((I think you deserve a lot longer of a response, but forgive me, I'm a bit stuck right now.))<br/><br/>@ Ome (Stella):  Oh, was that wolf fast; but next to the other two, he was practically wearing chains.  His snarl was childish and even as his feet failed him and you soared beneath, he spat curses that earned him no friends elsewhere.  The sound of his landing was a hooked slab of butchered meat dropping to the freezer floor.<br/><br/>“AH!” He snapped, righting himself.  He gets up smoothly but slowly, never taking his eyes off you.  The crowd is already against Kira easily; still, the other two are the biggest hit as well.  Somewhere past the wolf, a front-row face, a pretty girl with short hair and a fiery cheer, you swear you can vaguely recognize from all your underground matches, amidst a wall of Firin' Oziran and Dragoness signs – and she holds up a single piece of poster board with a few words of encouragement:<br/><br/>We can't stop here!  This is BAT COUNTRY.<br/><br/>@ Kavenbach (Santi):  “Thirty seconds!” The bald man planted a bullet frozen just before the ceramic plating of one man's chest, a surefire knockdown.  Walking past him, the soldier was floored instantly with a thunderous crack while he leaned into the chopper to clean it out.  Tim cradled the only person he had, and set her inside the backseat with a trembling lip.<br/><br/>“If you're hesitant to kill them, do THIS!” Baldy suggested and put one square into the knee of a frozen man, before stepping in and throwing him over onto his skull, and stealing his weapon.<br/><br/>@ TaciturnTiger (Jori):  ((Manipulate whatever you like within reason.  ^_^ ))  “I don't think you-” He stopped and before you both was a handsome, glaring bipedal mouseboy... his clothes gave him right away, as did his look.  Swiftly he puts a hand to the wall beside him and steps back, scraping the shellac in flakes to the floor, then running his mussy hair out of his eyes.  At his feet the scrapings start to tremble, then buzz in vibration... then melt away as something thick and viscous and quite clear rises to just above head level, discernible only as a wall of crystal-shimmering slime with a hint of blue.<br/><br/>@ Chiro (Onyx): The professor's torch creeps down the wall, his eyes trailing the orange glow.  “Nothing else.” He shakes his head.  “Why they'd even write it to rhyme gets me, or write it here.”  The  light from the surface was gone.  “Fog got thick again...” He groans, moving on.  “A house of will and a factory of gears... think we wanna find one of these places?  Maybe somewhere we can stay and use our gear or magicks?” He scribbles down the poem by torchlight and waits for input before trudging further into the sewers.