Kennedy & Elia & OPEN
Elia had been outside the burlesque tent when the commotion began, grabbing a breath of fresh air before she readied herself for her final performance of the night. At first, the chaos seemed distant – a popping sound toward the front of the Cirque that could have been anything, maybe a child with firecrackers or someone's brief pyrotechnics.
But then the screams reached her – not the usual shrieks or abruptly-stopped sounds that she was used to. It took only a few seconds to draw from her deep well of power, using the darkness all around her to create some helpers – and she could do this on the move. The lions were a match set to the ones guarding the front of the Tunnel, but these were inky black in color, shifting with the shadows that fueled them. Still, they seemed solid enough, helping the witch push through the stampede of people and toward the entrance.
She saw Kennedy, the brief confrontation, and while she didn't doubt the Lamia's venom, she didn't want the attacker getting too far. In the next second, one of her lions had pounced upon the gunman from behind, knocking him to the ground. Shadow-claws ripped at his back, shredding clothes and flesh and bringing up a wellspring of bright blood. Elia herself maintained a low murmur of spellwork, weaving the deaths around them into sacrifices in order to feel the accompanying boost to her dark power.
Kennedy got no more than a tip of her head, a 'come on' gesture as she moved away from the tents. If the gunmen had gotten beyond the Tunnel, they had hunting to do.