Cold blue eyes followed the progress of Nyx and the group that followed behind her as they advanced to the second level of the bar, leaving behind the continuing bustle of beings enjoying their time and their drink. Tightening her grasp on Janus, the silk of her glove catching against the leather grip, Dyxra'a moved forwards into the crowds, keeping her eyes locked on upper level. Out amongst the populous of the crowd, the Falleen's true lack of height was visible. The top of her hat, which added at least three inches to her height, barely graced the shoulders of others as she wove her way around the bodies that filled the lower level of the bar.
When the blaster fire began and the crowd began to descend from an organised mass of chaos into a disorganised mass that disregarded their fellows as they fought past one another in the attempt to escape the conflict that was starting, Dyxra'a held her position, a lone rock within a river as she lent her weight upon Janus, weathering the tide. Her right hand, the one holding the knife of which continued to shine in the lights that hung from the ceiling, was held firmly against the stetson, holding it in place as the bodies that pushed past Dyxra'a threatened to knock it from its perch.
As the thug wielding the automatic blaster emerged from his cover, screaming his anger, Dyxra'a finally moved. Stepping forwards, her right hand whipped forwards as the target she had initially focused on had finally stepped into range. The knife she had held cut through the air, blade and handle rotating, until the blade sunk cleanly into the thug's throat. Chocking on his own blood, the thug halted the stream of automatic blaster fire from the weapon he held as he dropped to the floor. Smirking in self satisfaction, Dyxra'a reached down to remove three more knives, throwing each of them in turn at another of her pre-chosen targets. Once again, each of her throws sunk the blade of each knife deep into the throat of one of the thugs, dropping to the ground as they choked on steel and blood, each of their own contribution to the blaster fire that rained down on Nyx's group being cut off.
Turning her back to the deaths that she had just caused, her smirk still spread across her scales, Dyxra'a made her way towards to the staircase to join her fellows. However, as the sounds of death and chaos began to flow in from the outside, Dyxra'a's smirk dropped as she turned towards the entrance. Cursing sharply in Falleen, Dyxra'a whipped Janus off to her side, letting the solid shaft of the cane unravel into a bladed whip which coiled along the floor. She hadn't factored in the possibility that the reinforcements that would have been called would be willing to cut through the civilians to get to their targets, hadn't considered that Akida would be willing to weaken her position to destroy the threat to her person. And now she cursed herself for doing so, she had been caught unprepared.
Spitting another curse under her breathe, Dyxra'a advanced towards the doorway, preparing to fight. As she was coiling her arm back, the reinforcements, face's shrouded in masks, burst into the bar, their attention fixed to the staircase. Grinning in anticipation for blood, Dyxra'a whipped her arm forwards, letting the whip curl forwards to slash across the neck of one thug, tearing it open and spraying blood across others as the thug choked on nothing.
[member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Nyx"] | [member="The Narrator"]
