Expendable — Roleplayer Guild

Samantha



Samantha had just poured herself a cup of coffee when her co-worker popped into the doorway of the break room, her eyes wide and her smile wider.

"Sam! Are you ready for your date tonight!" 
"Rhianna?!" Sam replies, feeling her cheeks burning. "Yes, uh, thank you?"
"Brian said you had to change the time to 8:30?" she asked, coming over. "What's that about?"
"I have to run home to change, I can't go out like this!" Sam replied, stepping back with her coffee cup. "And there's an errand that might run a little long."
"An errand? Can't you just do it later?"
"No, there's been so many changes lately with their schedule, this is the only time I have to see them."

Rhianna froze, then turned to Sam with an anguished face. "Is it another date? Did you double-book on my brother...?"
"Oh! No, nothing like that," Sam replied, feeling the blush in her cheeks grow hotter. "It's purely professional. I have to see someone about a contract."
"Legal stuff? Are you being sued?"
"Just a small settlement," Sam says. 
"Oh, you were a marine before, is it that Camp Lejeune poisoned water thing... Wait, are you sick?!"
"No, no!" Sam said, waving her hands dismissively. "I'm fine, but there's some things I have to talk to them about, that's all."
"So late?" her co-worker asked, turning back to pour herself a cup of coffee
"They're doing me a small favor," Sam lied. "I really need to get back to my desk. I'll see you later."
"Well, if you're sure you're alright..." Rhianna said, turning with cup in hand, but Sam had already left the break room.

At five P.M., the office stirred to life as the assistants shut down their systems and gathered their things. Rhianna glanced over to Sam's desk, but the other woman was already slipping out of the door before she could get out a word. 
"Is that a marine thing?" Rhianna griped.

Sam's car drove west for several blocks before pulling into a storage facility. When she came out, she was wearing a trench coat over a Fratello pizza delivery uniform, carrying a pizza delivery bag. Keying in her code, she waited as the gate retracted before pulling back out into the street.

The guard looked up as the Fratello delivery driver entered the lobby, a blonde woman.
"You're not the usual guy," he said as she walked up to his desk. "Better looking than the usual guy."
"Yeah? Well, he broke his arm last night," Sam smiled, remembering the snap. "So they sent me, instead. A delivery for Mr. Temor?"
"Yeah, sign the book then go to the 47th floor."

The guard glanced down at the almost unreadable signature, then watched as Sam sashayed towards the elevator, shaking his head in regret.

The man who opened the suite door frowned at Sam, but before he could say anything her hand chopped at his throat. Eyes wide and choking, he fell back, and Sam strode in, her guns barely making any noise thanks to subsonic ammunition and her suppressors.

"What's... this about?" Temor demanded, still sitting at his desk.
"What's it about?" Sam repeated. "You really should be more careful when you poison your customers' babies, Mr. Temor."
"What? No, the courts cleared me...!" he protested.
"Your lawyers got you off on a technicality," she corrected, raising her pistols. "There will be no repeal, Mr. Temor."

"What?" the guard asked as another Fratello driver showed up with pizzas. "They having a party up there or what?"
"No, just the regular order. That moron broke his arm last night..."
The guard's jaw dropped, just before he hit the security alarm. 
"What the hell, buddy?" the pizza guy asked as the guard drew his side arm. Nobody noticed when a side door opened over the sound of the sirens.

She changed back at her car, driving off before the police arrived, heading downtown.

The parking garage was packed full on the lower floors, so Sam finally gave up and went to the almost deserted top deck. However, as she got out of her car, she saw the sign on the elvator. 

Sam swore, then headed towards the stairs. "I'm going to be late," she grumbled, running down the stairs. On the fourth floor, however, her shoe got caught by something and she fell through the window. 

"Whoa, look dude," the kid filming his buddy said as she came flying out the window, staring at the electrical wires below.

"I wish I could fly," she managed before landing on the wires, electricity arching as she shorted the power, then bounced to the street below. She managed to raise her head to see a horrified clown driving an ice cream truck before it all went black....

The others must be downwind, Cian surmised, thrusting her necklace through the neck opening of her boiled leather breastplate before she could slip her head through the hole. As she did, she could catch the scent of the newcomers, the metallic scent of their blood, the beating of their hearts as it rushed through their veins and arteries....

"I... thirst," she growls, then grabs ahold of her necklace above the seal. "Cursed thing! Leaving me all weak and unable to fight! Must I sup when others have sated themselves, leaving me the scraps?! Why can I not free myself of this curse?"

Turning, she glares at Sariel angrily as she splashes ashore. "They do not look to me to be willing to talk!"

"Guard yourself well, Lady Gaaaangraenah," Cian added, "Least they try to roast you in your armor!"

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...what falls from the skies is not the rain...

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