[@Perse]
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Muerte pulled up to the wreck cautiously as he had seen movement in the area a few seconds before-hand. He parked his bike several feet away and approached the rest of the way on foot, raising the alien rifle as he got closer. It was then that he noticed the group of soldiers nearby. He fired on reflex, melting the target instantly, before realizing that they were not moving. He froze, as the reality of what he was staring at sunk in. He was staring at incredibly life-like statues of the invaders, immobilized mid-combat. Muerte stood there, dumbfounded for several seconds, as his brain tried to make sense of what had caused their making. It wasn't until he heard a noise behind him that he snapped out of his stupor. He wheeled around, rifle at the ready but this time he didn't fire immediately. He waited a few seconds before edging around the corner of the ship that had been sheared off in the crash landing. He was taken aback by the sight of a very human-looking woman laying in a heap inside. He hesitated, considering the possibilities before his curiosity got the better of him. He hid his Latino accent as he called out to her, rifle still raised. [color=39b54a]"I've got two questions for you: Are you human? And are you ok? And don't worry, I'm not going to shoot you if you say no to the first question."[/color]

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[@Terminal]

Jackie's hands shook slightly as she hung up the phone in her small Chinatown apartment. One of her girls had just called her to inform her that a man had stopped by The Parlor looking for her. They had tried to lead him off but he'd threatened to get rough. When they told him she wasn't there he'd simply nodded and left. He obviously wasn't selling girlscout cookies, but he hadn't asked where she was. Being so long in the biz, Jackie had some idea why: he already knew where to find her. Cussing under her breath she snapped into action; lighting a cigarette, sticking it between her lips, and then retrieving the gun from her purse and placing it in her pants instead. While she ran around puffing and swearing, her eyes kept glancing over the small metallic communicator Al had given her a few months back but refused to pick it up.

She knew that pressing the small red button on the side would have him running to her faster than flies to a cow pie on a hot desert day. Even after she broken up with him he was still at her beckon call and she f*cking hated it; however today she may not have a choice. If the guy was a sup it wasn't a guarantee that her gun would be enough. That and there were still these god damned aliens all over the place too. Getting to Jesus's would be tricky to say the least, and that was IF she was going to go there anyway. How DARE that motherf*cker tell her to get to safety while he gallivants around like Mexican Batman?! She finished and ashed her smoke in the tray on the table before scooping up her bag she'd just finished throwing together. She hesitated, then snatched up the communicator and went to the door. She peered through the peephole to check if the coast was clear and froze as she saw a man enter the hallway.