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Carmen had looked to the door that had Brian had pointed at before. The girl gulped at the prospect of having to go through the door in front of her, knowing that unknown thresholds were always the scariest to cross. The girl hastily walked up to it only to take the last few steps to the door at an exceptionally slow pace. Her whole body was quivering as she looked at the door in front of her, gulping every step of the way, and examined it. It was, at the end of the day, just an ordinary door. The kind that she had had no problem opening any other point in her life. And as she reached out her hand to open it, shaking as she clutched the handle, she would find that this time was no different either. Opening the door she would see that beyond the door was a hallway. And beyond the hallway, or rather as a part of it, was a split. To the left, she did not know. To the right, a staircase. The girl stood at the threshold, paralyzed at the thought of having to actually cross the doorway for fear of something - anything - jumping out and tearing her limb from limb. Or maybe some kind of spectral entity would make its presence known and mess with her in some kind of manner. However, it was just a hallway. There was nothing she could see and having opened the door it was possible that she had already caused herself to be permanently haunted. A downcast expression on her face as she stared the ground, shivering still, a wry smile appeared on her panicked face as she said, "I-I'm doomed anyway....heh..." Before gulping one last time and crossing into the hallway. The instant her foot went into the next room she immediately felt something off. She had every instinct to run away from the door but flight or fight was no longer an option as she had been locked into her choice to walk through the door already. Both gravity and momentum were working against her body and it wasn't as if she could react in any way other than simply noticing. And so she stepped through the door. Into a room. She looked to the right. There was the water cooler with the now oddly placed trash can in front of it. She looked to the left. There was Brian by the printer. The girl didn't say anything at first. Paralyzed at the idea of what had just happened. What had just happened? She had left the room and ended up in the same room, albeit at the opposite end of it. She knew what the hallway looked like and it wasn't this. A thought that she had entered a room that was the exact replica of where she was and now she was in some kind of bizarre copy space entered her head and to see if this was true the girl could only think to back up. Take a single step back through the door she had just come from. And now the hallway was in front of her again. Blinking rapidly trying to process the curse that this building seemed to be under, she simply looked over to Brian, who was in fact still in the same spot. With a terrified expression on her face the girl let out a, "ehhhhhhh?"

An announcement had rung out through the entire Fairgrounds, as Stalag had chomped into a large turkey leg. The President of the United States was landing, and his speech would begin at any moment. He ripped his mouth away from the leg, taking out a chunk of the succulent meat as he did so. He had finally found a good meal at one of these stands and now he was being interrupted. He now recalled his classes on human culture, where he learned that the President of the United States was much akin to that of his own village's chief. The chief was the best Specimen the village could produce, one who could take on all comers! However, Stalag's first impression of the President was rather poor. The Chief of the Mightjaw clan was enormous in stature, and quite boisterous. Stalag admired people like that! His opinion turned a complete one-eighty when the President had thrown away the magical voice boomer to instead speak naturally to the crowd. "Citizens and guests to the United States alike, I would like to thank you all for attending today's festivities. Now, all of you are surely eager to return to the rest of what this centennial anniversary has to offer, so in the interest of saving time, I will try to keep this brief." "If you would be so kind! I was in the middle of snacking, and I wish to return to devouring this Tur-key!" He shouted, presumably trying to talk to the President as an equal among the crowd. The speech continued on, and so did Stalag's snack time. His ears perked up at the mention of the wars against the New Aztec Republic, where he slightly shrinked. That was the Tribe that was sponsoring this mission of his. His people were a neutral faction, but they resided within the borders of the NAR. Would he be seen as an enemy by Americans? He pushed the thought out of his head. His mission was to make sure it was the opposite! His people were here to learn and be merry! "That is why I stare the future dead in the eyes, and why I promise to use every resource I have, and every power within my authority, to ensure that by the time I am forced to step down from my office, the United States will enter an age of peace an--" It sounded like thunder had roamed across the sky overhead, but he had seen no flash. It sounded like the battle cry of a weapon his people had unfortunately become familiar with, a gun. Had someone brought one of those tools of war here to a joyous occasion? It was enough to make him grimace. One thing he hadn't noticed until now is that he had not picked up the scent of gunpowder, a necessity to fire a gun. Was it an attempt on the President's life? He didn't have time to think, as the soft-skin's around him began to swell in a panic. "Calm yourselves my friends!" Stalag tried to reassure the masses, "Bullets do not even hurt! If anything, they itch very deep scratches! What are you all worried about?" However, the words coming from a walking tower of fangs and flesh didn't seem to be doing what they wanted him to do. There were shouts from all directions. Some shouts he could here were ushering people away from the commotion, but what was the fun in that. If that wasn't enough, fights were breaking out seemingly everywhere. It wouldn't look good if Stalag were to immediately jumped into the fray. That's when the he saw someone running away from the rest of the masses, away from the President. The flash of steel, and dodgy eyesight, was all he needed to begin pursuit. His predator instincts had taken ahold of him for a brief second before he realized he was chasing a frail, female smooth-skin. He called out ahead of him, keeping up in pace rather easily. "The excusing of me, but was it you who did the gun fire?!" He shouted. The girl turned when confronted, about to speak her piece. Until, that is, she noticed just what she was being pursued by. Magpie Harper, one of the greatest bounty hunters in the world... and a Meteor-Kin! As much as she'd always wanted to meet one, all this living fossil got out of her was an "Oh, shit," before she redoubled her escape efforts, moving herself away from the action while trying to stay parallel with the imposing walls of the nearby Air Force Zero. Seeing him must have really spooked her beyond belief. Stalag could only nod, it was the only acceptable response to seeing a specimen of his stature! But nevertheless, he needed to figure out why this soft-skin with a gun was running away! Maybe if he captured her, the reputation of the Meteor-Kin would improve! The thought made him put some effort into his stride, as the girl did the same. "I do not wish harm upon you! But I must do the asking of why you are doing the running away!" "Because she just tried to kill the President," Magpie interjected. "Very unsuccessfully, I might add!" With a flick of her wrist, a small knife appeared from out of her sleeve, which Magpie caught and promptly threw in the girl's direction. Her target, however, proved to be lighter on her feet than Magpie anticipated, as she sidestepped the flying blade quite effortlessly, before making a sudden turn in her escape route, now running directly for the nearby airship, where an open window was visible, albeit rather high up. "And if she gets in there, we're not catching her!" Stalag looked behind him to see that another woman was in pursuit with him. "Ah! I see we have the same goal! Then assist me in my doing of the interrogation!" He turned his head forward to follow the girl along the turn. He noticed that she was making a break for the flying machine ahead. "I cannot allow this! We must speak!" He turned back to Magpie. "Please, no more throwing! I shall intercept her!" Stalag grit his teeth, and dug his heel into the ground, before he launched himself into a full out sprint. He thrust his arms forward to try and latch onto a limb, trying his best not to use his jaws instead, making sure to gingerly grab the girl. As Stalag made his charge, the girl jumped up onto the near-vertical walls of Air Force Zero, and against reasonable expectations, was able to climb up it a short distance, just enough to get her fingers around the window frame. As she was pulling herself up to make her getaway, however, Stalag's hand was able to graze across her foot, the timing and weight of it being enough to make her slip, sliding her way back down the wall and landing on the dirt. "Well, well, well," Magpie whistled, strolling up to meet the would-be assassin and her newfound captor. "Start talking." "I'm not saying a thing." The girl's stance was defiant at first, but before long, her circumstances sunk in. The only reason she was able to make that climb was her running start, and these two were too close to make another escape. Shoulders slumped, she let out a long, resignated sigh, before putting her hands up. "...alright, fine, you got me. You can question me all you want, but I'm still not saying anything." "You did not shoot at the President. I know this. You carry a gun, yet I did not smell gunpowder in the crowd." The ridge of his left eye raised itself. "Then why run away?" She blinked a few times, surprised that Stalag was able to tell. Keeping one hand raised, she unholstered the gun with the other hand. She didn't point it at Stalag or Magpie however, and instead tossed it to the latter's feet. "Seems Meteor-Kin have pretty sharp snouts. It's a starter pistol, like they use at racetracks. My job was to shoot that and then run, and I can say that because I'm sure Miss Bounty Hunter over there already pieced that much together." "So you wished to start a commotion? A distraction?" The girl was not an assassin...yet she seemed to be in some shady dealings. "It does not matter. Why did you do this? I must know the reasoning. I was enjoying my meal, and wished to speak with the President! Yet you ruin this for me and my people." A large gust of air spouted from his nostrils. "I will forgive you this once, but I must know answers." He looked to Magpie. "Bounty Hunter will get hers too. I am assuring no harm will come against you while I am present." The spout of air from Stalag's nostrils seemed to take the spirit of defiance out of the girl. "You Meteor-Kin sure are intimidating up close, haha..." The compliment got a couple of wags out of his tail. Looking back over toward the scene of the crime, the girl considered just not answering, for a good while. After a long moment of nothing, however, she finally caved. "I'm here with a team meant to kill the President. That's the short of it. My job was to give the signal to get the show on the road." He closed his eyes in disappointment. "Kill the president? I cannot fathom such reason! Truly!" He literally couldn't. Politics were not his strong suit. He looked back to Magpie. "So what are your intentions with this frail thing? She did not commit crime, this I am sure of." Was she really not guilty? After all, she admitted association with a group of assassins. "She's definitely committed a crime," Magpie retorted. "She just confessed to working with a team of assassins here to kill the President. In fact, his orders are the only reason she's still breathing right now." "But the President is still alive? She just runs away..." He scratched his brow, but he could see how she was guilty after some thinking. "So what will you do, Miss Bounty Hunter? I, Stalag Mightjaw, will help in your endeavors! Will we save the President of United States!? Or shall we guard this perpetrator and make sure she does not do the escaping?" "I'll watch her. I have a lot of questions for our little wannabe assassin. You should go help the others." Stalag nodded. He looked back to the girl, this 'wannabee'. "What is your name?" "It's our policy to not namedrop ourselves on the job. But, it doesn't say anything against using our file names. So, you can call me Friend." "Your policy is the stupid!" He managed to flash a sly grin. "But this file name of yours...I like it." He knelt down to her level. "Friend...I wish you would not have gone down this road of violence. Perhaps we will talk more soon." Stalag stood up and turned towards Magpie. "As I have said, no harm is to come to her. Are we the clear crystal?" Stalag started another full sprint to lend his assistance. "I shall make short work of these assassins!"

As the ghoul got ready to move towards her, Lana locked eyes with the creature. Based on how it had moved before it was fast enough to get away from her swing and, unlike every other undead she had fought thus far, actually seemed to be somewhat aware. Annoyed at having to deal with an actually thinking opponent, Lana tried to slow herself down as well. She could feel the numbness in her arm hindering her a bit and knew that the straight forward approach didn't really work with the mindless zombies so it was probably not going to work against something that could think. Taking a deep breath, Lana shifted her grip up the haft of her great axe and readying herself as the ghoul made its charge towards her. Thrusting the axe head forward, the ghoul swiftly ducked under her attack opening its jaws and readying to bite down on her. Gritting her teeth she grunted as she swung her axe above her and as result the haft of the weapon into the ghoul's face. With the wooden pole stunning it the girl shouted, "just die again!" bringing her axe down onto the creature's shoulder. Her numbed arm was starting to lose the strength behind it, and even with gravity on her side she didn't manage to do nearly as much damage with her axe as normal. "Tsk," the girl could start to more plainly feel the weight of the axe, her still good arm straining more as most of the burden of carrying it started to transfer to it. Needing to use more than just her arms to dislodge her axe, the girl kicked the ghoul, pushing it away as she pulled her weapon back. The ghoul, however, wasn't stunned by this for long as it lashed its claws out at her. Off balance, Lana pulled her leg back hastily and as a result ended up falling on her face. Letting go of her axe, feeling that she couldn't properly get up if she was still holding it, and letting it fall to stone floor of the mausoleum she was at, Lana stood back up. Using her good arm to ready her hand axe she kept a watchful gaze on the ghoul. It, in turn, seemed perched up on all fours, as if trying to get a read on her. The two of them were both waiting for their moment to strike but, with a shorter weapon and a bummed arm the girl didn't think she would win a direct clash again. It was then that the girl thought of something. While she had won the last clash, that was mostly on instinct. But, what if she could plan to do something like that? This time, Lana had been the first to make the move, charging towards the ghoul. As the girl readied her axe to swing, once in range, the ghoul instinctively dodged away from her attack as it had each previous time. However, Lana had never swung the axe. It had never dodged an attack as there was no attack to dodge to begin with. Smiling as she caught the ghoul in its movement the girl said, "gotcha," and swung her axe for real this time, burying it into the undead's skull. Pulling out her axe and letting out a sigh she looked over to Chris shouting, "how's it going with the lock?"

What was a simple speech from the President turned into an assassination attempt. Needless to say, Neal wasn't too thrilled about seeing this turn of events occur. A gunman... someone using spectral hands to throw those in the crowd on the stage like they were rocks... thorns and roots appearing from the ground to trip up many in the crowd... oh and the skeletal arms that appeared by the stage trying to murderlize the President there and those around him. Neal wanted to curse himself for deciding to come to this festival just for this to happen. Probably should've just taken my chances with the cops... he thought, before overhearing something nearby. "This way, this way! I know a shortcut out of here, so let's not waste any time and get the escorting over with, okay~?" Oh that sounds reassuring... Neal thought, a sigh escaping his lips. Just his luck with this. He knew he shouldn't have attended this speech, let alone the festivities. Regardless, he followed the crowd that followed the green eyed girl. Though all the while, he was wary...something just wasn't sitting right with him. The woman led her entourage of followers away from the action, as promised, to a small shed, ushering everybody inside before following suit. Once she was indoors, however, the woman locked the door behind her. "Okay~! Now, Miss Babette here has a job to do, and part of that means giving you all a quick check. To make sure nobody's carrying any weapons or anything. Surely you understand, in these circumstances. Just step on up, and with a touch my hand, I'll make sure nobody here is a dirty, no-good President-killer wannabe! Now, you may feel a little woozy afterward, but don't worry about that~!" Neal wasn't buying this...she seemed too eager. Not only that, a small shed? This was hardly a spot for safety, this wasn't even a full on escape. No...this was more like... ...this is a straight up con. She's one of them...isn't she? The young man kept himself just in the crowd, waiting to figure out what the next move from her would be. The first pair of volunteers, however, were clearly buying it. As they stepped up to Babette, she placed four fingers on each of their necks. A few seconds passed, and they collapsed to the floor, albeit still breathing. "A bit woozy, like I said. But, good news! Neither of you are a threat! Next, please~!" "Would you simply like us to just put our valuables in a box for you instead?" Neal spoke up, trying not to be noticed by Babette. He hoped she was dumb enough to simply respond to that outburst. "Only if you think knives and guns are valuable," Babette smiled, taking on the next pair of volunteers. Those that followed her here were few in number, so the crowd was dwindling fast. "After all, I'm a security detail, not some mugger or bank robber." "Funny, cause a security detail...delivering a group of people to a small shed...not even fully evacuating?" Neal continued, knowing eventually he'd be found out as the crowd dwindled down. "Either security is doing something new nowadays here in Illinois, or you just think everyone here is as gullible as they look." At that accusation, Babette raised an eyebrow. "And you, young man, are a lot smarter than the rest of our little gathering." As the last pair of volunteers dropped to the floor, leaving just her and Neal in the room, she took measured, but confident steps forward. Holding up her right hand, with those same four fingers raised, she continued "I do like a guy with a bit of critical thinking skills. Hearing one person asking questions anyone who stopped to think for a second could come up with, making everyone else look like total idiots by comparison, is just hilarious! And yet, you also followed me! So, are you gonna arrest me or something?" "Arrest you? Hardly. I don't think I could honestly be caught wearing that uniform. It would simply clash with my personality and line of work." Neal snickered, moving slightly as he too sized up Babette. "As for the critical thinking...it's more of...common sense. After all, without that...and it would ruin a whole heist, now wouldn't it? But, alas I digress, my dear." He shifted the back on his shoulder slightly, beginning to snicker again. "Truth be told, was simply taking a gamble here when I followed. The moment you led us into a shed, I knew something was up. Though it seems that you...from the looks of it...knocked out all the people here. Quite the Psychic Ability if I do say so myself. Let me guess...hostage scenario? Potential leverage against your primary target of the President? Would be ingenious..." He paused, before holding up a single wallet, flipping it open to show the ID of the first 'volunteer', tossing it at Babette's feet. "IF most of these were actually of a higher class. The payout you'd get from the upper class folk would be much better than these middle to low class people. Basic stuff if I'm honest." "Hostages? Oh, no, nothing so barbaric! I was going to take them back with me is all. To do a bit of this." Babette kneeled down, resting two fingers from her other hand on the leg of one of the incapacitated volunteers. Although they were paralyzed, a look at their expression was all it took to tell that whatever Babette was doing, it was causing them pain. "Well... maybe not a bit of this. More like a lot of it." "Ahhhhh, so rather than hostages...you went for torture." Neal nodded, glancing at the situation at hand. "Seems like this little situation has escalated, but I suppose that's to be expected with terroristic threats, now isn't it?" He adjusted the bag on his shoulder again, before simply looking directly at Babette. "I don't suppose there's a chance you'd let me go, seeing as I'm not a cop or bounty hunter." "Of course not! And the only way out is locked, and you'll have to get past me to reach it anyway. You're just all out of options, aren't you? Now, hold still. This will hurt, but at least you won't scream your head off over it... this time." Babette reached forward with her hand, its four unfurled fingers fully prepared to grab Neal as they had everyone else in the room. He sighed a bit, immediately slinging the bag off his shoulder and slung it at Babette. "I have to say, if that painting in there gets damaged and I don't get my full payout...I'm going to be quite upset." he said, moving away from the assailant, moving to his left. "Then again, at this point, I'm fairly certain the buyer will understand at this point...I'd rather not be tossed into a world of pain like that, if I could help it." Babette caught the bag, almost falling over from it being heavier than she expected, before tossing it aside without much care. "Ohhhh, now you're in for it." With that and that alone as warning, she disregarded her previous, slower approach, lunging to her side in an attempt to catch Neal. Neal at this point, was just in a moment of keep away from Babette. "My dear, while I'm flattered at the desire to want to throw yourself at me..." he said, his eyes scanning around the room to see if there was anything he could snatch. "...I must decline. I'm a gentleman above all else!"