[center][b][h2]Two Months Ago[/h2][/b][/center][center][color=red]Alexandria Svet-Yulia [/color][/center]

Idle footsteps meandered quietly down a dim alleyway, sparsely lit with the gray-white light of early morning, damp with puddles of collected filth and morning dew; the source of a foul smell wafting through the air. Though such abhorrent things were of no real surprise, should one find themselves strolling through the Russel City slums often enough to become accustomed to such things. Especially considering the sour scent of sweat and dirt accumulating on unwashed bodies, rife with illness and all the fixings of severe poverty. Such was the slum life, rotting away in ragged clothing, deteriorating away, reflecting the use society has for them. Where the unskilled come to mope, where the unemployed come to complain, where anybody without a true purpose in life comes to die. Slowly, letting death creep upon them, as the bags under their eyes darken, as their hair fades and their clothes fray. Here where wild dogs hunt, and the Guardians of Motum Diversum do not tread needlessly. The kind of place that the common man avoids at all costs, turning his nose up at the very repulsive thought of finding himself there.

Alexandria, however, was no stranger to this place, though she still did wrinkle her nose from time to time. The air had shifted dramatically as she wandered through the city streets and tight alleyways: From the sweet smells of perfumes, muddled with the scent of strong spice and bodies sweating off expensive cologne, to the repugnant zephyr gentle ruffling the folds of her scarlet clothes. She lifted one gloved hand lazily, letting it drift across the begrimed wall of cracked stone and peeling plaster. She drew a thin channel through the blackened grime, letting her hand trail off of the wall leisurely, flicking the muck off the tip of her finger. She smiled remorsefully, her empathy hidden behind the thin veil of her red bandanna, and the silvery orbs of her goggles. In a way, she was like the people here. Though she was not frail, or in no particular state of deterioration, she felt the burden of being ostracized by society, felt the backlash of fear and pride. No, society had left a bitter taste in her mouth, which is why she found herself once again in the slums.

The door creaked sharply as Alex eased it open, it's rusted hinges protesting with piercing wails. The bit of tarnished sheet metal gave way easily, and quickly enough Alexandria found herself in a room that fared no better. Splintered cracks wove their way across the floor of old, dusty desert wood. Tiny, dark particles flickered in the slivers of light creeping through slight gaps in the roofing, and through the decomposing layer of boards covering the single window of this second story room. She stepped through carefully, her eyes scanning the room for a specific individual. 

A shadowed form stepped soundlessly from a darkened corner, [color=cyan]”You have a bad habit of entering without knocking, Alex.”[/color]

[color=red]”What about being late, talking back, and evading the law?”[/color] She mused, closing the door softly behind her as she stepped towards the middle of the room, only slightly irritated.

[color=cyan]”And sass,”[/color] He chuckled, his thin, leather clad body becoming visible as he steps further into the light. His brown eyes watch Alex carefully, always aware of what she is, and what his usefulness means. A small cloud of dust whirls up into the air as he plants one wrinkled hand on an old, worn table by the window, his weathered body leaning against it. He moves stiffly, his age apparent even through his nearly entirely covered body. Only his face remains uncovered, plagued by wrinkles and age spots, his fatherly features enhanced by laugh lines and wizened by crows feet pulling at the corners of his eyes, partially obscured by thin, wispy locks of gray hair. [color=cyan]”What do you want Alex?”[/color]

[color=red]”Straight to the point, as always Eddie,”[/color] she answered, placing on hand on her hip as she looked up at him.

[color=cyan]”I go by Edgar now, it's more homely.”[/color]

[color=red]”I don't really care, [i]Eddie[/i],”[/color] She said vehemently, dropping her facade, [color=red]”You'd be surprised how word gets around about the information broker who sells out Immortals. That lead was a setup [i]Eddie[/i], and thanks to you I have my face on every corner of this god forsaken city of whores and liars.”[/color]

Edgar's eyes widened, and he tried to take a shaky step back, but he only scooted the aged table against the wall. [color=cyan]”L-listen Alex, you don't understand!”[/color] He retorted, his voice wavering, [color=cyan]”I have a family; A wife! Tw-”[/color] His voice caught in his throat, the folds of his old neck working inaudibly as he tried to form some sort of coherent defense. His bloodshot eyes stared at Alex, her hood down and her hair rising sporadically from the intense static charge emanating from the fluorescent, crackling blue energy swirling around her arms, arcing between the tips of her fingers. 

[color=red]”Where are the other Immortals Eddie?”[/color] Alex spat, emphasizing her words by letting an arc of energy tear from each of her hands into the floor, leaving behind smoldering, charred wood as she took a step forward threateningly,[color=red]”Where are they gathering?!”[/color] Another arc of electric energy jumps off of her arm, curving haphazardly into the wall. Chunks of stone and mortar explode from the wall, cascading across the room. 

[color=Cyan]”I don't know Alex!”[/color] He screams, the terror in his voice evident, [color=cyan]“I'm r-retired for god's sake!”[/color] 

Another tendril fires off violently from Alex's arm, controlled only by her boiling anger this time, [color=red]”LIAR!”[/color] She screams, the ragged table exploding into a shower of tiny, flaming shards. Edgar falls to the ground, desperately patting out a small flame that had begun to inch its way across the wrist of his sleeve.

[color=cyan]”Oh god help me!”[/color] The old man cries out pitifully, falling to his knees.

As if on cue the metal door erupts from its position, whirling violently into the room and sending Alexandria reeling into the far wall, her forehead smashing into the poorly boarded window.

[color=orange]”By order of The Executive, Alexandria Svet-Yulia, you are under arrest.”[/color] A large armored man states, the authority thick in his deep voice as more armored officers file in behind him. [color=orange]”Stay on the floor if you know what's good for you, whore.”[/color] He spat, jutting his chest out as if flaunting the emblem of the Winged Guardians, a golden shoe with its own set of wings.

[color=cyan]”You're late, the w-wretched bitch nearly killed me!”[/color] Edgar stammered, standing and dusting himself off. 

A narrow rivulet of blood streaked across Alexandria's goggle, a wider channel trickling between the two orbs, across the thick leather strap across her nose. The bitter, metallic taste of blood permeated her mouth, split by a sadistic, wide smile.

[color=red]”The only crime I've committed,”[/color] She started, rising to all fours slowly,[color=red]”Is being alive.”[/color]

[color=orange]”I said stay down you mutant bitch!”[/color] The large, brusque man half leaped, half stormed across the floor, his truncheon swiftly cutting through the air to crack painfully across Alex's back. Alex's face collided with the floor, her blood mixing with the dust and dirt as the breathe left her body. Another crack wracked Alex's petite body with pain. Emotional, haunting pain. A ghost from her past that haunted her constantly, a reminder of who she was. The ghost of her old self. 

Tiny motes of dust rose into the air as an emotional pain wracked Alex's body. [color=orange]”That's right!”[/color] The Guardian laughed,[color=orange]”That's a good--[i][b]Slave[/b][/i]”[/color] Greya's voice echoed the word in her mind, patronizing her with the fallacy of motherliness, tormenting her even after death.

The swirling vortex of anger and trauma within Alex externalized itself like a clap of thunder, a bright column of sizzling electricity firing off of her body, smashing into the ceiling and fanning out, the multitudes of electrical tendrils spanning across the metal roofing wildly, like a wild herd of sparks trampling over themselves. Dust fell from the ceiling in thick spires, bending away from Alex's body from the static force of her spark given phenomena. 

[color=orange]”Fucking whore!!”[/color] The guard spat, tossing aside the half melted truncheon in favor of his gun. Stray arcs of energy shot from Alex's body wildly, with no apparent direction or control. Two of which struck the guard, one right after the other, coursing through the reinforce metal threading of his vest, plunging into the depths of his body. He gasped, clutching as his heart as he fell to the floor, keeling over in cardiac arrest.

The four other Guardians in the room drew their weapons; a combination of well maintained handguns and a single automatic assault rifle. A flicker of energy played across the metal surfaces of the firearms as Alex picked her bloodied and battered self off the floor.  The Guardians flinched in pain, dropping their electrified weapons. One of them cursed, reaching for his secondary firearm, as the other three warily drew their melee weapons; each of whom wielded long sword-like blades. One charged forward, his blade raised high. He took three steps before the height and material of his weapon attracted Alex's energy. All of the electrical arcs firing from her body ceased, and became one thickened tendril of lightning.

The Guardian stopped dead in his tracks, literally, his lifeless muscles clenched in response to the current flowing through his corpse. A second later and the heart and pressure from the point of contact became to much, and his smoking corpse launched backwards in a spray of sparks and an audible blast that shook floor until it threatened to crack completely. Alex pushed up her dirty goggles, her pure white eyes falling on Edgar, cowering in one corner, a smoldering patch on his clothing giving off a winding stream of smoke, obvious that he had received a stray strike from her. Though her control didn't last long, as she gazed upon him her anger surged forward with renewed life. Sweat gathered on her brow, mingling with the blood from the dirt encrusted gash on her forehead.

The energy swirled around her again pulsating in tune with the rhythm of her heart hammering in her chest. A distant bang played across her ears, drowned out by the boiling sea of rage in her mind. For a moment, Edgar's face became Greya's, and Alex lashed out, both hands emitting a hot, crackling stream of white lightning, the heat of which set Edgar, and the entire corner he was cowering in, aflame. The stone wall cracking from force and intensity of the of the fire. The wave of heat immediately caused the Guardians to retreat from the burning floor. The one with the gun turning into the hallway, leaving his two comrades with their blades in the room, separated by the quickly growing inferno. It was evident that they no longer wished to try detaining, or even killing, Alex. One of them made a quick move for the window. A blue flash, and his smoking body tumbles through the weakened boards, rolling across the first story roof outside. The remaining Guardian silently drops is weapon, icy claws of fear clutching at his heart. He puts both of his hands up, and slowly backs away.

The stone wall behind him cracks with the force of his seared corpse hitting it. A thick blanket of black smoke begins to gather, bringing Alex out of her uncontrollable rage. She coughs as the swirling energy around her body dies down, a residue of small blue sparks jumping through her hair. She feels a wetness spreading across her arm, and a slight pain. The shot had only clipped the side of her arm, leaving a rather deep gouge instead of a bullet wound.

Alex coughed once more, the oxygen depriving smoke robbing her of sight. Her eyes watered, and all she could hear was the crackling of the fire, and the splintering of wooden boards. She turned and felt her way across the wall, hacking out the impure air she was involuntarily breathing. The broken edge of a board met her fingers, and she tore at the crudely made barricade, her fingers scrambling for purchase. She felt she had enough room to safely maneuver through, and the persistent lack of oxygen hastened her decision to launch herself out the window, tumbling across the first story roof. Her body hit the ground, rear first, thankfully sparing her face from further arm.

She rolled over, an ache rapidly spreading through her body. Sweat dripped from her face as she stared at the ground, her heart beating furiously against its prison within her body. She gasped for air, coughing out the scant remnants of the smoke left in her lungs. She looked up to the sky, still cloudless and pale gray with the coming dawn, obscured by a thick column of smoke. She picked herself up, resentment heavy on her face. 

[color=red]”Fucking Standards,”[/color] She hissed, wiping the blood and dirt from her lips. That was her derogatory nickname for [i]'normal'[/i] people, Non-Immortals. She started cautiously down the cramped side street, receiving only the curious looks from a few slums residents, peering out from their makeshift shanties and pilfered crates. It was going to be a long walk back to her safe house, a long, painful walk.