<strong>Cassie</strong><br/><br/>The wall of muscle looking at Cassie looked confused by this, at least, glancing at the booth, then back to her, then back at the booth, somehow missing the ghost that was sitting there, doing everything he could to look innocent short of whistling. Really, he looked rather miserable, murmuring a quiet ‘Sorry’ that no one else seemed to hear.<br/><br/>The guy stares you down for a moment, then shrugs his massive shoulders. “Hmm. Sorry to bother you, miss,” he says and sits in the booth, sliding through Steve, which is vaguely nauseating to look at and pulling out his phone. “Just going to make a quick call, if you don’t mind.” Belinda is still across the club, dealing with some customer who, from the movements of his hands, is quite irate about something. You can hear him make the call, “Excuse me, Mr. Irons? Uh, no, sir, but we've got people all over the club, should only be a matter of time. Spoke to a woman who looked right, but she says she wasn’t the one he left with.” It seems like being a thug doesn’t call for any particular amount of brains or discretion.<br/><br/>What do you do?<br/><br/><strong>Xiaofu</strong><br/><br/>Man, it would have been such a cool move–but it seems like Mr. Jackie Chan got some training you missed out on, because there’s suddenly air where the man–creature?--was and one of his long hands is around your arm, hauling you toward him, and those scissors are coming down toward your face, too fast, inhumanely fast and it’s weird how your entire field of vision is now this one giant smile.<br/><br/>What do you do?<br/><br/><strong>Bryn</strong><br/><br/>Whatever this thing is, it’s fast–you’re teeing up to swing and it’s already twisted around in a way a human spine generally doesn’t, avoided the trashcan and grabbed the girl who tried to help you. You’ve got a split second to decide–you could take the swing for the head, you’ve got a nice clean shot, but those scissors are coming down awfully fast–or you could redirect, bring the bat down on this freak’s hand and knock the scissors away.<br/><br/>What do you do?<br/><br/><strong>Ellie</strong><br/><br/>Your bodyguard, unfortunately, has surveyed the situation and seen only the possible danger to you, though it doesn’t seem like anyone else in the room has noticed you exist. He’s got one arm and most of his body in front of you like he’s barring you from going any farther and he’s pulled his gun with the other, but he’s trying to back you out of the room. “Principessa, we should get out of here,” his voice is a desperate whisper, watching the bizarre melee in front of you play out. “You can’t be involved in this.” Because, his tone clearly communicates, if you so much as get hit with a flying wastebasket, your sister will have his head.<br/><br/>What do you do?<br/>