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Most people would call her paranoid, do call her paranoid. It’s a label she’s grown used to, the way people outside of her tiny circle look at her actions. Those that don’t know her reasons. To be fair only a couple do - Orion and Roxy and perhaps Leona if Raphael told her anything. She’s made sure Arwyn and the others have no clue, just that they know to call her before they decide to drop by. Today has definitely been a day people would call her paranoid over.
She’s been on edge the entire day, through training at the dojo to her time at Sly Fox. She can feel eyes on her, making her skin crawl and itch, and it’s shown a little in her actions. She was a bit hard on the poor kids today on top of not paying as much attention as she should during the group training. She’s used to this feeling by now but it still makes her want to keep one hand on her swords at all times. She doesn’t do that however. Better for these assholes to not realize she’s onto them, to not notice how she tracked them moving through the streets behind her or in the bushes around the dojo. Her phone rings, briefly jarring her out of her reverie and she puts on a normal voice as she answers. “Hey. No, I’m heading home for the night. Alright I’ll see you in the morning. Bye.” It’s a good distraction she thinks as she turns her feet down a small alleyway. Sure enough the people take what they believe is a lapse in her focus to begin to close in on her, surrounding her by the time she makes it to the middle. They think they’re cutting off her escape.
Three against one. She’s had far worse odds. “You can make this easy or hard.” She doesn’t even try to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the guy’s words. “If you’re here then you know I make nothing easy. But you can. Leave and tell them nothing and you can escape with your pathetic little lives. Take one more step toward me however, and I’ll butcher every single one of you.” Her little smile is in direct odds with her words, her hand resting easily on the handle of her blades. She knows they won’t. The families pay far too well and probably didn’t warn them that no one sent after her has ever returned. Well that’s their problem.
The dance she partakes in could be considered beautiful if it wasn’t for the blood that sprays the pavement. All purple light and sprays of red as she twirls and catches them between the two deadly blades. She’s done this for far too long now and she’s growing weary of it. Two die on her blades before the third manages to close in effectively, their bodies slumping lifelessly to the ground. The last one she has pinned to a wall before he can land a strike. Her eyes are hard, the edge of her blade pressed to his throat. “I would tell you to deliver them a message… but you’ve been so ineffective that I’m sure you don’t even know who hired you.” She feels nothing as her blade severs the neck from the head and the body slumps. A decade ago this would have horrified her. Now she just feels… numb to it. The sound of footsteps at the end of the alleyway catches her attention and she whirls, just in time to see the figure standing there, staring at her. Oh wonderful. So there were 4 after all. This one must not have been expecting her to finish off his buddies so quickly. “Don’t run. I’ll catch you and all you’ll do is piss me off more.”
It was a fairly calm day for the young Initia. Work at the farm was slowing down a bit; as he had kept ahead of schedule to get everything ready for the colder months ahead; that his employers had given him a few days off as a reward. Otherwise, the city wouldn’t see much of Scott-as he was always hard and busy at work. Something that had been embedded into him, from a fairly young age; to work hard and achieve what needed to be done; as he spent his youth working at the family farm-between school and studying. And often than not, keeping busy was better for the blonde Initia, then to be bored.
Scott spent a portion of the day, running a few errands for his apartment and exploring a bit of the city. Liking to find new places in Evermore; that called out to him. Places that he could visit and make memories. Finding his way to a museum in Evermore; Scott decided to try and enrich his mind a little bit, with a bit of culture. Seeing what the Evermore Museum had to offer. He brought himself a ticket and soon was exploring. Time flew by, and before he could even blink-it was into the evening hours. Scott didn’t even realise, it was so late; till he saw the giant clock on the wall, by the museum exit. “Time flies, when you’re having fun.” He muttered to himself.
People were piling out of the museum, giving back their little head-sets; they had them on them for the duration of the museum tour. Scott gave a slight wave to the museum tour-guide on the way out. Deciding to head back home, for the rest of the evening. Taking his usual route, but little did he suspect he’d stumble upon something dangerous and unlike, what he knew Evermore to be like-in the past year or so, that he lived here.
Lost in his thoughts; Scott soon snapped out of whatever had been running through his mind; when he heard what sounded like a struggle, a violent struggle. Passing by the familiar ally...he stopped dead in his tracks. Eyes wide...as he saw the scene end before his own eyes. Someone had killed a bunch of people? Before he could even think about running, the female that caused all of this spoke. Scott looked confused. Did she think he was somehow involved? He could sense the anger, from her words. Raising his hands up-it was almost as if on cue, a reflex.
“I honestly have no idea, what you’re talking about. I don’t know you.” Scott told the red-head. Why would he piss her off? What is it, that she thought he had done to her? “Look...I was just on my way home. I don’t mean any harm to anyone.” Scott was rambling nervously...looking even more nervous...and maybe a bit freaked out. Swallowing. Still glued to spot...scared to move an inch...in case she’d sink her blades into his neck or guts.
Her normally bright blue eyes have a strange tinge to them from the glow of her blades, casting them in a lilac that’s not unlike a Nephilim’s which almost causes her to laugh. There’s no doubt that were she one of the angel children she’d have lost her wings years ago. She stares the man down, slowly advancing toward him as she speaks. She’s so damn tired. How long has it been since she slept? Two days? Three? She forgets, maybe she’ll be able to get some rest after finishing this mess off.
His confused and terrified reaction is nothing new to her. People tend to have that reaction when they realize their numbers mean nothing and all their ‘friends’ are dead at the end of her swords. Normally she’d never pause in her advance, taking advantage of the hesitation to put an end to the situation as fast as possible. So then what stops her a couple feet from him? Later she’ll blame the exhaustion she’s sure but she does stop, eyes scanning his face as he looks upon her with genuine fear. She says nothing to his first stammered out sentence, gazing up at him impassively. It’s impossible to read anything on her face, all emotion blanked as she holds both swords loosely in one hand. Then, slowly, her face changes, shifting from completely blank to slight confusion. He seems… like he’s being honest and normally she’s really good at telling when people are lying to her.
The anger seems to drain from her form slowly as he continues to speak at her until finally she cracks a smile and starts to laugh. Actually laugh at the absurdity of the situation. In the back of her mind she’s positive she looks like a lunatic but she can’t help it. She nearly murdered a poor guy for being in the wrong place and she’s not even sure why she believes him! Probably how tired she is. The sharp metallic sound rings through the alleyway as she sheathes her swords, her laughter dying out. “.... You’re being honest, aren’t you?” It’s not really a question and the sigh that follows seems to come from her toes, a soul weary sigh as she looks back over her shoulder. “.. I can’t exactly let you go without a promise you won’t report this… you know, after seeing that.” Yeah, she looks like a complete lunatic. “I was sure they had a friend waiting to gang up on me and kill me… you just happened to come along at the exact wrong time. Sorry.” She doesn’t expect him to believe her, she actually expects him to haul ass. She won’t stop him if he does. She can handle the cops as much as she really doesn’t want to.
The Initia found himself glued to his spot. Almost terrified to move, in case the female would strike him with her blades. Seeing that her eyes held a slight sheen of purple. He could have mistaken her for an Angel child, but he didn’t see any wings on her. Maybe it was just the lighting? Almost holding his breath, he was waiting for some sort of a reaction from the mystery female. When she all but laughed at him. Scott raised an eyebrow-confused and unamused. She was laughing? Seriously? Was this chick insane? Who in their right of mind, would be laughing in a situation like this?
“Do I look like I am joking?” Scott questioned, eyebrows still raised. Of course he had been serious. Why would he joke, about something like that? Scott meant no harm. Heck, he didn’t want to stumble upon this scene...but it was too late. His eyes slightly flickered over to the dead bodies and then back to her. Hearing her sigh, he could only hope that she believed him. Of course, he was expecting her to say something like that. Why would he tell anyone? Scott wasn’t that crazy and he wanted to keep his life. “Look. I didn’t even mean to see this? I was just minding my own business on my way home, when I came across this...But I want to keep my life. I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone...about this. Because, I am pretty sure, you’d kill me...and I’d like to keep my life.” Scott was rambling, his nerves still very much on the edge. “So you have my word. I’ll keep this...secret.” He was good at keeping secrets. This would just be, between them both. No one had to know, right?
But she was right, they probably had friends. “If they do. Maybe we both should get a move on.” Scott suggested. Not wanting to hang around more and see another blood-bath, if someone else would come their way and decide to cause havoc, for seeing their comrades dead. And anywhere would be better, than him being around dead bodies.