[h1][color=olive]Franco[/color][/h1][hr] [hider=SABOTAGE][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=duPkzPwUlX4[/youtube][/hider] Franco was roughly awoken from his late sleep when the earth under him abruptly shoved his teeth down his throat. He was tossed from his bed at Site Haeda by the shockwave and landed on the hard dirt floor. The island continued to shake. He crawled to his feet and ran out of the front door. His quills instinctively rose as he looked to the northwest, towards what was once Site Aber. He could see fires burning over the treetops and helicopters raining down explosives. The island shook again as a missile impacted. He cursed and grabbed onto the building to steady himself. From the distance, he could vaguely make out an orange-ish blob on the side of the choppers. He knew one thing for sure: that wasn't an Adelon symbol. Franco looked around the site. All around, others were emerging from their cottages and were staring out at the warzone. The high stalks of corn trembled with the shockwaves. A fencepost cracked. Some people began to run northeast, towards Durahe and Borea. Franco stood his ground and watched the fires burn. A few workers began to bustle about the site, their colorful parachute-cloth robes and dresses blowing in the wind and quivering with the shockwaves. Franco recognized one of them, a pretty, blonde girl named Eve. She was standing above the pig pen, holding her hand out and talking gently. She was a pretty girl; pale skin, long platinum blonde hair, cool blue eyes, a real southern belle. She wore a dress made of a rainbow-colored parachute, like the one kids would play with at recess. her skin was covered in lines of different-colored paints. There were two stripes of light green under each of her eyes and a stripe of pink going from her bottom lip down her chin to the base of her neck, where it diverged into two streams and followed the lines of her collarbone. She was barefoot, and her nails were painted an assortment of colors. As she held out her hand, the pigs calmed. They sat down in the mud and stared up at her as if in a trance. She whispered something softly to them. Franco walked over to her and put his hand on the corner post of the pig pen. "Have you heard anything from Aber as of yet?" he asked her. She turned from the pigs and pouted at him. "Nothing yet," she said. She had a pleasing southern accent. "A few men are heading that way to scout out the damage. We're sending as much of our supplies to Borea as we can should those troops start marching this way. Clay is out strengthening our defenses. We're hoping that if we have enough supplies, the boys at Durahe will let some people in." "Not likely," Franco said. "Worth a shot, though." The earth trembled again, but this time for a different reason. An exceptionally tall muscular man in a tattered white tee shirt was pounding the ground nearby with his fists. A three foot wall of nine-inch rock began to resurrect itself around the site. "Can you do me a favor, sweetie?" Eve asked. "There are some new prisoners here, ones who don't really know the island all that well. I want you to take them over to Borea and relay what happened to the folk over there." Franco sighed. He hated dealing with newbies, but Eve was hard to resist. Sometimes he wondered if she had influence over him because he was a plant. Or maybe it was just because she was real pretty. "You like putting me outside my comfort zone, Eve," he said. "But I'll do it." She pointed him in the direction of the newcomers. "Thanks sweetie," she said. "Good luck." Franco walked off towards the newcomers. [i]I'm gonna need it,[/i] he thought. --- Sierra was already at work, messing around inside of Franco's generator. A cute redhead girl was lying in her bed, wrapped up in the sheets. A Beastie Boys song was playing on the stereo. The island rumbled ever so slightly. Sierra looked around the room and then shrugged. "Must be a meta freaking out or something," she mumbled. Then she went back to work.