Tamara was the first to come to, the napoleonic dress was in tatters, revealing fresh wounds - but not from any of the personas that had struck her. With the fan gone, her eyes were wide with fear, mascara smeared around. "Please! Don't! You can't take those!"

James' tattered state revealed a previously wounded state, the man staggering up, holding his arm limply. "Heathens! Thieves! Just because you have beaten us and taken our bands doesn't mean we are letting you go anywhere but hell!"