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Kijani came back to consciousness slowly. She felt like she was in the midst of a dream, and not a very good one at that.  Blind, deaf, weak. She slumped forward when the pods were opened, landing on her hands and knees inelegantly.

She saw figures in front of her. As her vision came back into focus, she realized that they were all about her age. Interesting. Tensing a bit, she realized that her sword was still tucked neatly under her coat. Chicago winter was nothing to mess with, and her heavy woolen trenchcoat had kept her sheathed blade from being discovered. Her go-bag had been frozen along with her. That was either sheer luck or poor planning on the part of her enemy. Either way, she would gladly take the advantage.

She stepped forward, looking at some of the others who had gathered. Her golden eyes darted from person to person. They all looked decent, and she had the slightest instinct of danger from each. Some more than others. There was a young woman who seemed to know what the hell was going on, so she listened in as she approached the small group.

It seemed introductions were in order. The only one who had a lick of sense was “Speed”. She definitely didn’t trust any of these strangers. After all, one of them could easily be an enemy spy, or running the show entirely.

[color=gold][b]“You all may refer to me as Origami. You won’t be getting me to sing kumbayah anytime soon either.”[/b][/color] Her voice was cool and neutral as she eyed the group with distaste, especially the two boys who were openly eyeing each other. Such trusting, idiot [i]children[/i]. Already, she could sense that she’d have to make her own way. Oh well, what else was new?