05-07-2018, 10:53 PM
Jacinda Cross was correct. There was something off about this place. Fire and blood. Amy Pond was ahead of the elder Atharim and her partner. Charred blood. She caught the scent off an alley wall pushed toward her by the draft let through shoddy construction and broken buildings. It caught her unprepared and a sudden flash of a car fire from long ago gleefully danced free from its cage.
Another gust hit her like a sucker punch as she was shoving the first offender back where it belonged. Stronger. She could smell the man’s cooked flesh-boiled blood-it was in her nose.eyes.hair. Blood was matting, slicking, soaking through her hair, clothes...soaking in...running down her face into her ear… slicking her neck. She closed her eyes tight. She’d never wear her long hair again. Neveragainneveragainneveragain.
What the fuck? Where the hell had that shit come from? She’d dealt with all of that years ago. Years. Sure, she still had the occasional nightmare. There were the inevitable quirks from being trapped under a body for six hours like, she couldn’t stand top sheets or comforters on her bed. Stuff like that.
Nika dug a thumb into her eye for a good number of seconds.
When again she faced the alley there was a man in front of her. Staring. He kept his distance though, wary of the newcomers but the bottle in his hand made him curious.
“You’ve gone all white, myshka…” He was graying, more gaps than teeth in his mouth.
Nika swallowed around a suddenly dry throat and managed to croak something out. “I’m looking for my sister...she’s missing.” She patted numbly through her pockets before allowing a particularly distraught expression to settle on her face. One that wasn’t hard at all to manifest at the moment.
“I had a picture of us…” She swallowed an annoyingly real scratched throat. “She’s um, as tall as…” Her hand leveled out around her own height. “Pretty though and a delicate face…long hair...” The assassin gave the rest of Aria’s description accurately. “She’s just, I think she’s fallen in with the wrong guy. I’m worried and the driver...he said she came around here.”
“Da...da…” He turned and called out toward a shadowy doorway draped with plastic and bits of cloth. Shapes had already started moving toward them though. Murmurs echoed, an empty bottle was kicked into a corner, boots crunched and shuffled along. The group was a motley bunch of disheveled faces, bright with drink and their recent victory. They sensed no harmful intent from Pond and the two forms farther back in the room, if the shambling group even saw them.
The old man introduced her as his little mouse. “Myshka is looking for her sister…” His words were thickly slurred either from vodka or his missing teeth. Nika went with it all, since she knew somewhere behind her Jacinda and Ten would be backing her up. Possibly. Also there were the drones. Plus this was getting interesting and she would rather show momentary vulnerability to a bunch of vagrants than turn and face two Atharim she couldn’t know. Compromised. Sure it was backward but it made sense to her.
Don’t get close to anyone. Not ever again. Never hurt again.
Alone is safe.
The old man and his ragged army, that’s how his story unfolded; the greatest army since the Germans were turned back! - they fought off the evil… It was piecemeal but coherent for the most part, complete with interjections from those gathered. Aria’s fate -her attackers- ...murderous dogs...the whole story was woven into the night air. Bottles of clear liquid courage were passed around. The old man had actually hugged her when he got to the part about her sister’s demise…a stiff Russian hug but one nonetheless. That was a military affair really. Justice was served...the dogs run off...celebration afterward. Possibly some minor looting. The group started up full-time again with the celebratory drinking. Tomorrow they’d go back to squabbling over rights next to drum fires and doorways but tonight they were united.
Nika whispered something to the old man and pressed hard notes into his palm. Channelers. She turned toward where Ten and Jacy had been. Her face was tired now, eyes hard but behind fatigue. Fucking channelers. They had to find the body. Disappeared into the ground? More likely a dumpster if at all. Still, the group consensus maintained a woman matching Aria’s description had been murdered there earlier that evening.
Nika called in BB for an intense scan of their location as she made for her team.
Edited by Nika Raskov, May 25 2018, 06:01 PM.
Another gust hit her like a sucker punch as she was shoving the first offender back where it belonged. Stronger. She could smell the man’s cooked flesh-boiled blood-it was in her nose.eyes.hair. Blood was matting, slicking, soaking through her hair, clothes...soaking in...running down her face into her ear… slicking her neck. She closed her eyes tight. She’d never wear her long hair again. Neveragainneveragainneveragain.
What the fuck? Where the hell had that shit come from? She’d dealt with all of that years ago. Years. Sure, she still had the occasional nightmare. There were the inevitable quirks from being trapped under a body for six hours like, she couldn’t stand top sheets or comforters on her bed. Stuff like that.
Nika dug a thumb into her eye for a good number of seconds.
When again she faced the alley there was a man in front of her. Staring. He kept his distance though, wary of the newcomers but the bottle in his hand made him curious.
“You’ve gone all white, myshka…” He was graying, more gaps than teeth in his mouth.
Nika swallowed around a suddenly dry throat and managed to croak something out. “I’m looking for my sister...she’s missing.” She patted numbly through her pockets before allowing a particularly distraught expression to settle on her face. One that wasn’t hard at all to manifest at the moment.
“I had a picture of us…” She swallowed an annoyingly real scratched throat. “She’s um, as tall as…” Her hand leveled out around her own height. “Pretty though and a delicate face…long hair...” The assassin gave the rest of Aria’s description accurately. “She’s just, I think she’s fallen in with the wrong guy. I’m worried and the driver...he said she came around here.”
“Da...da…” He turned and called out toward a shadowy doorway draped with plastic and bits of cloth. Shapes had already started moving toward them though. Murmurs echoed, an empty bottle was kicked into a corner, boots crunched and shuffled along. The group was a motley bunch of disheveled faces, bright with drink and their recent victory. They sensed no harmful intent from Pond and the two forms farther back in the room, if the shambling group even saw them.
The old man introduced her as his little mouse. “Myshka is looking for her sister…” His words were thickly slurred either from vodka or his missing teeth. Nika went with it all, since she knew somewhere behind her Jacinda and Ten would be backing her up. Possibly. Also there were the drones. Plus this was getting interesting and she would rather show momentary vulnerability to a bunch of vagrants than turn and face two Atharim she couldn’t know. Compromised. Sure it was backward but it made sense to her.
Don’t get close to anyone. Not ever again. Never hurt again.
Alone is safe.
The old man and his ragged army, that’s how his story unfolded; the greatest army since the Germans were turned back! - they fought off the evil… It was piecemeal but coherent for the most part, complete with interjections from those gathered. Aria’s fate -her attackers- ...murderous dogs...the whole story was woven into the night air. Bottles of clear liquid courage were passed around. The old man had actually hugged her when he got to the part about her sister’s demise…a stiff Russian hug but one nonetheless. That was a military affair really. Justice was served...the dogs run off...celebration afterward. Possibly some minor looting. The group started up full-time again with the celebratory drinking. Tomorrow they’d go back to squabbling over rights next to drum fires and doorways but tonight they were united.
Nika whispered something to the old man and pressed hard notes into his palm. Channelers. She turned toward where Ten and Jacy had been. Her face was tired now, eyes hard but behind fatigue. Fucking channelers. They had to find the body. Disappeared into the ground? More likely a dumpster if at all. Still, the group consensus maintained a woman matching Aria’s description had been murdered there earlier that evening.
Nika called in BB for an intense scan of their location as she made for her team.
Edited by Nika Raskov, May 25 2018, 06:01 PM.