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Post by Artemis "Spirit" Jacobs on Nov 11, 2009 10:42:45 GMT -5
She stood quite alone, hands on the rail, leaning over the balcony and closing her eyes against the gentle caress of the twilight winds. Against the fiery backdrop of the setting sun her slight figure was illuminated; dying tendrils of sunlight alighted upon the soft ridges of muscle in her arms, deepening the shadow of the scars that had been branded into her skin. Her red trainers were balanced on the lower bars of the rail, and as she stood between the crumbling clock tower and the scarlet horizon, she allowed her worries to remain suspended. For a few brilliant minutes, Spirit allowed herself some peace.
For there were several things bothering her. While the continuing feud between Shorts and her team was enough stress in itself, Spirit had unconsciously been unearthing more trouble. For one, she was certain that the city was up to something; only a week or so prior, she had witnessed the death and coverup of a very sickly man, whose symptoms were alarmingly dire and unfamiliar. Whether it be a mutation of an experiment or medication gone wrong, the city officials were aware and attempting to cover it up. Biological warfare even flickered briefly through her mind.
Secondly, Spirit had recently encountered a young hacker who, besides being armed, claimed he was working for a third party. While he seemed unfamiliar to the term 'Running', it seemed he and his boss were operating separately from both the Red and Green gangs. This introduction of a new, unstable obstacle made her uneasy.
Silver eyes slid open and for a moment Spirit looked out at the fading sun, feeling her problems fall as a dead weight upon her shoulders as she stepped down from the rail. Running a hand through her hair with a sigh, she thought longingly of her previous boss, turned on the spot, and was staring down the stairs when she heard the clocktower door bang open at the bottom.
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Post by Dominic "Shadow" Blackwood on Nov 11, 2009 13:35:48 GMT -5
Shadow pushed open the door, trying to be gentle with the old wooden thing but a gust of wind caused it to slam against the wall and create a huge bang that echoed up the tower. "This place has been abandonned for longer than I thought." He muttered to himself. He stuffed a hand in his jean pockets and brushed a small bit of dust that had collected on his navy tank-top and shoulders. He began to make his way up the stairs but stopped suddenly in the middle. A girl was looking at him from near the top, he looked at the red that adorned her clothing. "Huh, you runners aren't too subtle about clothing ar you?"
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Post by Artemis "Spirit" Jacobs on Nov 12, 2009 12:40:02 GMT -5
From the top of the stairs Spirit stared at the newcomer through narrowed eyes. He wore no marks distinguishing him as a Green, and he spoke of running in a tone that suggested he thought the practice beneath him. For a moment, the thought of his being a Blue crossed her mind, but she dispelled this notion; the only blue he wore was in the form of a navy tank top, and he did not seem to be carrying a weapon.
"Blues know my face; I could dress like a commoner and still they'd recognize me," Spirit said in response to his sarcastic inquiry. "What of you, though? I take it you're a seeker?"
She backed slightly away from the staircase, silently inviting him to join her at the top. On the platform, at least, they would be on equal ground.
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Post by Dominic "Shadow" Blackwood on Nov 12, 2009 14:27:49 GMT -5
Shadow shrugged slightly and rubbed the tatoo on his right arm absently. "I'm kind of a seeker but I've not been searching the market for too long." He looked up as Spirit began to walk up the stairs. "One second." He muttered before stepping out of the tower for a few minutes before bringing in a homeless man wrapped in a blanket, coughing up blood onto the floor. "Stay here for a minute mate." He patted the man's shoulder before walking onto the platform and standing next to Spirit as he stared absently at the view.
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Post by Artemis "Spirit" Jacobs on Nov 12, 2009 22:34:17 GMT -5
Spirit's heart missed a beat; she couldn't breathe for the few moments in which she watched the retching, trembling man totter unsteadily inside, sink to the floor and disappear beneath the large blanket he had wrapped around him. Even when the seeker returned to her side, the young woman's eyes did not leave the crumpled figure at the bottom of the stairs. She finally looked at the newcomer.
"Do you know this man?" from behind wind-buffeted bangs her stormy eyes were softer, nearly pitying; it was with both a trill of panic and empathy that she wondered if she knew what to come. "Do you know what's wrong with him?"
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Post by Dominic "Shadow" Blackwood on Nov 13, 2009 13:50:11 GMT -5
Shadow sighed and shook his head as he glanced at the man with slight pity. "I don't know him and I don't know what's wrong with him." He turned back to look at Spirit. "But I know the blues are behind it all. As soon as they saw him they pulled out their guns and ran towards him. I just did what any decent person would do and helped him." He ran a hand through his short black locks and gritted his teeth together. "I just wish... I could help him with whatever is going on."
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Post by Artemis "Spirit" Jacobs on Nov 13, 2009 19:23:58 GMT -5
Spirit caught herself gaping faintly. Snapping shut her jaw, she turned so that her entire body was facing him.
"A week ago I encountered a man in worse condition," she said quickly. "He showed similar symptoms; sores along his face, spitting up blood. He had lapsed into a state where he was unable to string together coherent thought or speech." She hesitated now, ashamed to reveal that she had fled. What any decent person would do...helped him. The man she encountered was far past her aid; what was she to do?
"A few Blues shot him dead and hid his body in the subway station," she finished quietly, conveniently leaving out the part where she and Bullet had been forced to flee. "Ever since, I've been searching for leads on what this is."
The wind picked up as dusk fell, the dying hues of light submerging the clock tower in soft tones of orange and red. The breeze toyed with the runner's open hoodie, pulled playfully at the strands of hair around her face. Her silver eyes were clouded, again, distant; she did not know whether or not to be elated that this stranger suspected the same as she, or horrified that her fears had been confirmed.
"What's your name," she asked quietly, looking out over the city. She was, of course, referring to his running name; with a shadow of a smirk she recalled Bullet's incident. Luckily for him, she wasn't the malicious type; little Andrew Stewart and his relatives were in no danger from her.
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Post by Dominic "Shadow" Blackwood on Nov 13, 2009 19:50:58 GMT -5
Shadow smiled slightly as the wind began to tug playfully at his hair and the setting sun made vibrant heus of orange and red mix together. "You can call me Shadow. You?"
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Post by Artemis "Spirit" Jacobs on Nov 14, 2009 0:38:35 GMT -5
"Spirit." It was said softly, as her thoughts were distant. Her head was myriad of confused thoughts, and the worries she had banished only minutes before had assailed her with renewed force. She rubbed at her eyes, feeling suddenly weary and far more aged than just the seventeen years she had earned. It's funny, came an unrelated thought, how many runners have names beginning with 's'. Spirit, Shadow, Shorts....
"I hate them," Spirit thought aloud, raising her head from her hands and gazing again out into the darkening horizon. The twilight hours were quickly giving way to complete darkness; already the sun's dying display of color was barely more than a halo encircling the far horizon. "I've always hated them, but...not like this."
The Blues war had always been with them, Runners. And, hell, Spirit couldn't blame them, really; runners were rule-breakers, the beginning of a new era, and as always, those in power looked to quell the alarming uprising. Yet a new fight was starting. The Blues were now targeting the common people, those that kept their head down and obediently shuffled through their days. Happy or not, these people had known better than to go messing in things that would only come to trouble; now the trouble's found them.
"It has to be a mistake," she thought out loud. Seeing as she was sharing only a conscious stream of thought, Spirit allowed the man named Shadow to listen in, contribute, even, to what she was mulling over. "Think about it- the mayor doesn't want another problem on his hands. His people dying from underneath his rule is not only bad for his image and chances of re-election, but its another thing he's got to focus on. If you ask me, its a project that has been compromised, leaked." Where would only homeless people come in contact with it?
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Post by Dominic "Shadow" Blackwood on Nov 14, 2009 7:29:06 GMT -5
Shadow nodded absently. "I hate them too. Always have and always will, I don't think I could hate them anymore than I already do." He listened quietly to Spirit before responding. "And of course he doesn't want it out there because people will get scared. Fear's a powerful way of getting people under control but instill too much and they'll lash out." He mulled over his own words for a moment before nodding. "That's why he takes the homeless. They have no family and if this is something dangerous then who better to use it on? Then everyone else can carry on not knowing. Well, that plan went badly as we can see. I don't mean to sound uncaring about this but we can use that to our advantage."
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Post by Artemis "Spirit" Jacobs on Nov 14, 2009 11:35:14 GMT -5
Spirit chuckled humorlessly, crossing her arms across the front of her black tank top. "Yeah, advantage. I'm not sure what we're supposed to do about this; we need concrete evidence. If we can get our hands on the documents the Blues have, we could bring the mayor's campaign down...." she trailed off, her eyes suddenly snapping to Shadow's face. She was on the brink of saying too much- this would come down to a race with Shorts, whoever could get the documents before the other would have a devastating advantage over the other. Should this man be friendly to the Green, this conversation was over.
"Tell me, Shadow," Spirit said slowly, quietly, "how serious are you in stopping this?"
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Post by Dominic "Shadow" Blackwood on Nov 14, 2009 12:12:24 GMT -5
"Deadly serious." Shadow replied in a grim tone. "I didn't break out of jail for nothing. And I didn't protest for years against the government for mothing either. If this makes a difference then I'll do it. I don't particularly care who becomes mayor afterwards or if you and the greens keep fighting each other. I just want the blues stopped."
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Post by Artemis "Spirit" Jacobs on Nov 14, 2009 14:55:05 GMT -5
Spirit rubbed at her arm, averting her gaze again. He had touched upon her point; through even a dire crisis, the Greens would be an obstacle.
"Are you willing to take a side?" she asked quietly. "It's nice to think that Shorts and I will join forces and bring this crisis to a close together. Fact is, if anything is going to get done, its going to be a competition. You can't ride the line in an issue like this."
The young woman rolled back her shoulders, refolding her arms across her chest and resuming her gaze over the town. Night was falling fast, and the skyscrapers were all alight, bright eyes amidst the gloom. "What I'm asking is that, should you really be set on this, you swear your allegiance to me. I am just as determined as you are to see this blow over; just as desperate, too, if you ask me." Her silver eyes found him.
"You broke out of jail; I head a rogue alliance of fugitives. Either way, the Blues are going to be looking for us. Your foot will be one step in your grave, should you help me. But they do say nothing worth having ever comes easy."
She extended a gloved hand; it was old, traditional, but the gesture felt far more intimate to Spirit and any other Red than an outsider would understand. Runners, though swift, witty creatures, had their lives and their honor. Losing the latter would cost you not only your reliability, but your title, job, and even protection from fellow Runners.
The depths of the eyes Spirit fixed the Seeker with were stern, hard, and seemingly wise beyond their years. "My conversation is over with a Seeker. Take my hand, only if you believe in the city's renewal. If you're willing to die for it. And if you won't turn your back on me." He would know what she meant. By taking her hand, the Greens were only a step below the Blues. She would not blame him for turning her down, but, were that the case, they had nothing left to say to one another.
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Post by Dominic "Shadow" Blackwood on Nov 14, 2009 15:25:40 GMT -5
Shadow looked at her out streched hand anxiously. On one hand he could leave Spirit alone, try and find Shorts again, and most likely be kept along for a while and only have a possibilty of getting accepted as a runner. Or he could go with Spirit who was practically handing him a job and the chance to help people, even though it would probably ensue a beating from the green leader later.
He mulled it over for a minute before taking Spirit's hand in a firm grasp and smiled at her. "What have I got to lose. On the run from the cops, no job, no family, no friends. I might as well wing it."
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Post by Artemis "Spirit" Jacobs on Nov 14, 2009 20:48:26 GMT -5
A small smile worked onto her features. She chose to glaze over his comment, "what have I got to lose". He had so many things to lose...then again, it seems he may have sacrificed his freedoms long before Spirit had anything to do with him.
She let drop her hand. "We should see what we can do for him," she muttered, nodding toward the stairwell where the dry retching of the homeless man echoed up toward them. She didn't expect him to miraculously recover; rather, Spirit wanted to make him comfortable for as long as he had left. "Here- help me move him, I'll show you the base. Wait-" she froze, looking minutely fearful for an instant, "you...don't have any of his blood on you, do you?"
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