[center][h2] - Aaron - [/h2][/center]
[center][@Kirra][/center]

Slow, purposeful grinding. Slight slithering, flesh over rock. A worm the length of a man's forearm slowly made it's way upwards through the crumbling concrete wall of a New York appartment building. Tiny hair-like legs pushed it ever upward, their structure allowing them to hold the far greater weight of the worm. It's teeth were large and blunt, twisting in a way similar to a drill as it worked it's way through the man-made structure. It had felt a tremor, a small one, a prey tremor. The slight movement that indicated that a large insect had landed on the side of the wall. It swiftly but patiently made it's way towards it's prey, before suddenly shooting forth from the concrete. It's mouth opened completely to reveal an extended sticky tongue like that of a frog, and it dragged the insect - a fly the size of a fist - towards it's waiting teeth. It struggled desperately but could not get away, and once it got too close, those same large teeth crushed it's head. This was a feast of a meal, and as the worm pulled it back into the network of tunnels from which it had emerged it knew that this one insect would feed it for many days. Perhaps this would be enough food to begin it's long-awaited metamorphosis, that it might soar through the sky that had been denied to it before now.

Aaron smiled beneath his mask as he followed the creature's small adventure. He could still hear it as it pulled back into a hollow spot to enter a hybernation state. Perhaps his tiny companion would finally leave, escaping into the great blue. As he mused he opened a can of beans, and began unwrapping a set of cutlery he often kept in his 'utility belt'. Had he had the supplies he might have found a better use for the pouch, but for the moment he got to pretend the world hadn't ended with every meal. The beans were cold, but to a hungry man they were like divine nectar, and he swiftly began stuffing his face. Eating was one of the few reasons he would remove his mask, and when he did, he had to make sure none of his peeling skin made it's way into his food. Luckily he'd been able to find a relatively shaded location, so sunburn wouldn't be an issue. Of course, he could always-

Screams. A single person, female. They were far away, faint, but he could hear them. There were calls of satisfaction, male, congratulations shouted to one another. She'd probably been hiding, running away from this group, for who knows how long. Maybe she'd even done something to anger them, stolen food or even killed one of them. But more likely she'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, too much food and too little protection. In the modern urban jungle people hunted people like animals, and only strength was the difference between predator and prey. And it was clear, in this case, what roles had been assigned. The beans were forgotten as Aaron made his way out of the small appartment building that had temporarily served as home. There was an abundance of suffering in the world, and much he could do little about. But he would be no better than the very men down there if he just sat there and did nothing.

As he walked, Aaron assessed the situation. They were loud, and there were multiple voices. That was bad. One bandit wouldn't have been an issue, but it seemed there were multiple, and their confidence implied competence. Those who announce their presence without being able to handle what came for them didn't live long in this world. He'd have the element of surprise, and hopefully whomever he was rescuing would be able to fend for herself, at least a little bit. Assuming that she didn't just take him for another bandit and shoot HIM while escaping, that is. But even then, there wasn't much he could do if this was a full gang like the Wolves. At least he hadn't heard a motor, implying they were on foot.

Walking out onto the streets, Aaron stuck to the shadows. He moved from building to building, making use of the many shortcuts he knew about in this area. Walls that had collapsed, windows close enough to jump, and in one case a series of roofs that had been connected through long steel cables by an enterprising but long-gone gang. The cries continued throughout, growing steadily louder as he approached. It seemed that they weren't planning on killing her quickly. Either they were taking her somewhere else, or they had plans to enjoy themselves before she died. best-case scenario: they wanted information, and she was safe as long as they didn't have it, probably the location of supplies of some kind, maybe whatever she'd stolen if that was indeed the cause of the conflict. Either way it was a good thing, as she'd probably still be alive to save when he got there.

Finally Aaron found himself hiding behind a pile of crashed cars, quickly unfolding his rifle. When he leaned out the side he could make out the struggling figures, a couple of hundred meters away. He got the scope into place, and then lifted it to his eyes. Lying down, he slowed his breathing, focusing. Through the scope he could see most of what was going in. Sight wasn't his best, but he was still a fairly good shot, even with his eyes in their current state. Seemed there were at least three of them, and from what he could see, he would need to take the shot if he wanted her out of there alive. A shame. But it wouldn't be the first time he'd been forced to kill someone, and this death would be far less regrettable than many others. With a slight squeeze of the trigger and a loud bang he fired, as the fellow holding Tia suddenly dropped to the ground, a bullet in his shoulder. Not what he'd been aiming for, the man wasn't dead. And the others were alerted now. Damn. This might become a rather unfortunate incident.

Calmly, Aaron shifted his weight, lining up his next shot.