There were sudden gunshots, BANG! BANG! BANG! They rang in her ear so clearly but Morgana stood firm, whipping her head toward the sound instead. It sounded like it came from the other side of the museum. She looked around once more, still no one . . . “Shots?” she questioned through the comms, but another set of them confirmed shit was going down. Morgana hastily began rolling up her sleeves, unbuttoning the first couple of buttons on her dress shirt so she wasn’t so constricted, and pulled down her suspenders. Shame, she didn’t have much time to change after a long day of nonstop work but she managed to pack a small backpack that clung to her back with her after-party clothes and a few other things. So there was that and the thought of a little someone . . . It still annoyed the shit out of her though, being late. “I’m going in dickheads, anything I should know about?” she spoke again through the mic, beginning to make her way around the building towards the sound of fighting.
Before rounding the corner of the museum, the chaos that she heard unfolding was about to be right at her feet. There was a short whiz and then a loud crack that instantly made her freeze right where she stood. A bullet, that was a fucking bullet! It landed in the concrete right behind her head, chipping some in the process. With her brows furrowed and heat rising to her face, brown eyes darted around her vicinity and before she knew it she was staring down a masked man a yard or so away with wild blue eyes and brown hair peaking from beneath his mask. The gun shook slightly in his hands but it wasn’t fear, he didn’t look scared. He stood and watched her, gauged her reaction before letting off a few more shots in her direction. There wasn’t much time for Morgana to react other than to pull a few quick hand movements lighting up the night with purple sparks and yell “Halt!”. The bullets stopped right in front of her, in mid-air before falling harmlessly to the ground. That's when she felt the sting. She raised her hand to her left ear, touching lightly enough to smear blood across her fingers. Just the feeling of warm and wet was enough to confirm her thoughts and with her anger rising, the witch took her bloodied fingertips and pulled her staff out from her chest with a purple glow and a wince. Like a bandaid, if you pulled it off fast, the pain would end fast and then you were okay. But other times the pain . . . lingered in her chest.
Without missing a beat she took a few strides to gain momentum toward the man thinking about how she now has to show up to an event after this with a bleeding ear. “Are you fucking serious!?” she yelled before launching her staff like a harpoon and having it strike him dead in the chest. The masked man crumpled into a heap while holding his chest and trying to desperately breathe but Morgana only held her hand out calling her staff back into her hands like some magic boomerang. “I’m heading over to the basement. If someone could come along and cover my back, that would be amazing.” ”I’m right behind you.” Hearing both voices, Morgana’s attention was snapped back to the mission as she looked for a faster way in. “Aha, my precious.” she sung out doing a grabbing motion with her hands towards a service door on the side of the building. “I’m heading in, see you guys soon!”
After making sure she knocked out the guy with a good kick to his face, Morgana examined the keypad next to the door and then lifted her finger up to it, a small purple shock of magic making it all go wonky before giving her the green. Alright, that was easy enough. Slipping through the door, Morgana could now hear the screams clearly, her feet already moving in its direction and her breath picking up. It wasn’t long before she began shoving past people, gripping her staff tightly. The first hand that was laid on her shoulder was met with a swift jujutsu submission where the person's arm was twisted and now they sat on their knees in front of her. Another dickhead in all black. With a further twist of his arm, there was a pop and a loud yelp cut short by Morgana hitting him across the face with her staff. She looked down and found a bit of blood across her white shirt and a slight look of utter blasphemy took over her features. “What the fuck, can anything white of mine just stay clean for more than a few hours?” she complained to herself. There was no point in trying to wipe it now, she’d only smear it more. Thud! Ow. The fuck? People were now pushing past her, bumping into her, and stepping on her toes. Wait, was that a person? She could have sworn he was carrying a sword? Okay, hell no.
The witch took off again down a crowded hall of people where she decided to piggyback off a few shadows making her trip into the exhibition hall twice as fast. Once she got there there was no hesitation in sweeping her first opponent's feet from beneath them with her staff. A swift blow to his face with the bottom of her staff and he was down for the count. “I’m in the exhibition hall, where do you want me?” The witch jumped back into the fray to help a couple cornered. She used her shadows to appear behind the assailant in an instant tapping his shoulder ever so gently from behind to grab his attention. “Hi, hello! Have you ever heard of the phrase to fuck offeth?” Before the guy could raise his gun at her Morgana kicked it from his hands thwacking him in the face with the end of her staff before uppercutting him with the bulky part.