<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/RK9d9kH.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong><em>Evelyn Grant, aka, Evie</em><br/><strong>Date | Location:</strong><em>Late Evening  | AEC Security Safe House, Exterior Street</em><br/><strong>Wearing | Carrying:</strong><em>Mark III combat armor, heavy revolver, assault rifle</em><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong><em>All, but it's Naomi's turn</em><br/><strong>Warning:</strong><em>N/A</em><hr/><br/>Three men drop around Evie in a hail of gunfire from Kiyo’s SMG, the third squished as her favorite pretty-boy smashes feet-first, driving that pig-sticker through the enemy merc’s collar bone. Evie’s got one in a grapple, his gun ruined. He goes for his knife, but she goes for her gun, quick-drawing, firing into the soft armor at his gut. She hasn’t got Kiyo’s fancy optics, but she knows where an aorta is, and he’s halfway gone before he hits the ground.<br/><br/>Naomi rushes out the hole she made, headed for the exit and the only living man left is the one her shaped charge blew off his feet. He hasn’t even got his gun up, but Evie doesn’t let him—she backs up, her back to Naomi, front to the last living guy, ready to soak a bullet even as she fires twice more, all without lifting the revolver past her hip. She’s an artist at this range, one to the armor at the gut, one the throat.<br/><br/>She scoots out the door after Naomi and fans the hammer on her revolver, enough to get the attention of the asshole who just clipped Xeri, the one shouting orders at a woman he really ought to be more polite toward, in Evie's rich experience. “Who’s playing, you gonk-brain fucks!” They’re over fifty feet away, though, so the bullets aren’t quite so precise. A few hit—nothing fatal. But Evie’s got their attention off Xeri and Naomi.<br/><br/>They return fire in force—Evie’s already in motion, lifted her metal arm to cover her face and throat, bullets deflecting loudly off the shielded metal, dropping to a knee behind an auto’s engine block, which swallows up the rest of their rounds.<br/><br/>“Kiyo-Cat, I got a flank on them, they’re gonna move.” The mercs will split their attention between Xeri and Evie—they’ll have to reposition, leaving Kiyo free to find an angle and rip them apart.<br/><br/>She’s worried for Xeri. Sounded like she took a hit, but Evie interprets the salty language as a flesh wound. It would have been either a lot saltier or silent if the shot had been worse.<br/><br/>Evie angles her rifle over cover without sticking her head out and fires over the engine block just to remind folks she’s there and encourage them to do stupid things. To Naomi, she says, “You keep your head down, kid,” once again treating Naomi like she’s a child and not an adept netrunner with a drone.