(While most OOC should be kept in the OOC tab, small amounts of OOC can be added to the beginning or end of your post if necessary by using the parentheses symbols '( )'. Also, I do not expect your posts to be this long, please do not feel the pressure to perform like this at all times, but do make a good entrance post!) [color=007236][b]New York Slums: Alley Between 12th and Porter[/b][/color] The sound of heavy breaths echoed softly through the alleys of the slums. Large boots over tiny feet pounded the puddles of the murky corridor, frantic, unknowing. The desperate gasps belonged to a young girl, no older than flowering age, likely just entering the cusp of adulthood. Tears cascaded down from her red eyes, her lip quivering, rain and teardrops alike painting her face with each desperate slam of her boot. She was adorned with torn, filthy rags; it was clear she belonged to the one of the countless orphan groups of the slums. [b]*TAK TAK TAK*[/b] Trailing behind her by no more than a few bounds length was one of [i]them[/i]. Dark, mysterious, lanky, deadly, just a few of the words used to describe the towering Seekers. The race for freedom was hopeless for the frail girl, even in hurling refuse bins into the nightmare's path while, it simply hurdled over them with ease to continue chase. Rounding into the final neck of the alley, it seemed the girl might actually make it to safety. Closer and closer she inched towards the dimly lit avenue, hoping the crowd of the street would save her, until... [color=fff79a][i]A soft crack echoed through the alleys of the slums[/i][/color] The frail girl let out a faint yelp before falling silent. The large, craning hand of the metal apparition had crossed paths with her skull. Crimson splatter misted into the atmosphere. The victim ragdolled onto the pavement, her face colliding with the cobbled alley floor with a sickening crunch. She was defenseless. The looming figure ripped the delicate body from the pavement by one of her unkempt hair-tails. Slinging the body over its shoulder, the metal contraption returned to the depths of the alley, the light of the street vanishing once more... --------------------------------- [b][color=007236]4 Hour Later. Location: Abandoned Apartment Complex 149[/color][/b] [i] Where am I... Why does my head hurt so bad...[/i] Slowly opening her blood-crusted eyes, the feeble girl glanced about the room. She was laying on a decayed mattress in a derelict apartment. Trash pooled to nearly the counter tops, vermin scurrying through the refuse. The girl went to move, only the find her injured body bound to the mattress frame with chain and wire. Her lips were silenced with several layers of packers tape. The young fawn struggled with all her might to escape captivity, but to no avail; She would remain audience to her captors for the time being. Craning her neck, the girl let out a muffled yelp as the bloody scab on her head injury ripped from her skull, remaining with the mattress where it had dried. A small tear escaped, but the had to be strong. She could not show it fear. From the shadow the beast came lurking. Tall, thin, sophisticated. The violet plating of its armor absorbing the rays of light that poured in from the broken window pain, casting no reflection. It lumbered forward, slowly, step by step, stopping at the end of the decayed bed. The girl squirmed, frantically, the bindings digging into her flesh as she tried with every fiber of her being to escape. The creature did not respond. The towering giant emitted strange, indecipherable sounds. Out of the blue, without hesitation, as almost if it was completed it one fell swoop, the beast raised it's metallic arm high into the air, its mechanical fingers uniting into a menacing blade, preparing to crash down. The sound of glass shattering echoed through the air, accompanied by the terrified shrills of the small girl. But nothing happening. Her eyes peeked open a moment later. The creature lie twitching, the remnants of its head painted onto the adjacent wall. [i][b]FFFFFWWWWWOOOSSSSSSHHHHHCHCHCHCHHCHCH[/b][/i] The soundwave of the high-caliber round boomed through the air, catching up with its projectile seconds too late. The girl knew she was safe. They had come for her after all. --------------------------------- [color=a187be]"Good work Sierra, keep an eye on the girl until the extraction team arrives. Once they get back to base, clean the girl up and let her rest before debriefing. She's got a lot of valuable intel if our scouts are to be trusted." [/color] "Of course Miss Lyn, right away." [color=a187be][i]Why do they call me miss, I hate proper titles...[/i][/color] Lyn spun in her pivot chair several times before hoping out in a dizzy-stupor, stumbling over to the guard rail overlooking her compound. Covering the overlook to her small room was a one-way, bulletproof glass. To everyone below it just looked like another sheet of plate metal on the ceiling of the base. Little did they know the figure they all idolized was right above their noses, literally. Of course this was not her permanent base, almost nothing POLTAVA did was permanent, in the interest of security. This forward base was deemed useful for looking over their supply lines in and out of the east wing of 'Midtown', the name given to the cities middle-class ring. From this post Lyn could provide feedback to the surrounding bases on what supplies they could expect to receive, leaving the occupants confused and grateful, wondering how The Thinker obtained such knowledge 'without ever stepping foot outside her tree.' Near the rail was a bowl of one of her favorite 'indulgences'. When Lyn invited someone to visit her, it was always for hot chocolate, never for a meal. Why? Because hot chocolate was much more appetizing than sardines and mandarin oranges sprinkled with poppy-seeds. [color=8882be][i]But ohhhh is it good,[/i][/color] she thought, letting one of the preserved fish slide down her throat. Turning her attention back to the base, Lyn thought about venturing out to greet her comrades. Lyn was a very 'hands on' type of person, always stopping to give the younger girls a hug or peck on the cheek. Lyn was considered the mother figure of The Three Kings, and was treated as such, being the most highly respected. In return Lyn was always kind to the girls she met, whether just for her love of the girls to be happy or free, or for her own personal motives (Lyn proverbially 'walked both sides of the street')**. But for now she would just watch... And eat a few more sardines. (**Left this in here because even though I completely overhauled almost every sentence of my old, atrocious writing, this is just hilariously me from over 5 years ago. And who knows, it could always open a romance route!)