Chapter 1 "Bullet"

[Andrew "Bullet" Stewart]

East Subway - Chapter 1 "Bullet"

After the death of my cousin, Ciara, I abandoned all hope of joy ever returning to me. my life was dull as ever, my mother died when I was 9 and my father abandoned me a few years after.

My name is Andrew Stewart, I am 17 years old, Black hair, hazel eyes and average lips. my build is athletic and almost muscular. Anyway, back on track. I was taken in by an orphanage at the age of 15 and it's a dump and I like it that way. Everything in this city is too clean, white, bright. The orphanage just makes things contrast a bit, that didn't mean I wanted to stay there though.One night after a long time of thinking I decided to escape or run away.

When my mother was still alive, i used to practice a sport known as Parkour. It helped me get by in my school years, especially in high school, the bullies were brutal, every where you look you saw senior students patrolling the halls looking for helpless victims of their evil schemes. One day at school i bumped into a senior student. The effect of my actions was that he tried to punch me, with my knowledge of Parkour i dashed past him, vaulting over a fountain then jumping over a fence. I knew i could do more in this world with Parkour, but...what?

As I ran away from the Orphanage, I heard a cop say.
"LOOK A RUNNER GRAB HIM!". As my adrenaline increased I ran as fast as i could vaulting over objects like fences and such. I out-runned them but, as I looked up I saw a shadowy figure on the roof tops following me. I decided to see who it was so i followed it. The figure zip-lined down a cord of wire and landed on the next rooftop. I screamed out.
"HEY! WHO ARE YOU!?" But no answer. The figure then turned left and was out of sight. I followed the figure in the same direction which led to an alleyway. The alleyway was dark and humid, i knew something was lurking about in here. I called out.
"Is anyone...here?". No answer, I decided that I would not ask again, afraid someone might assault me. It was getting dark. It said '10:30pm' on my watch. I found an open door which led into the subway, so I snuk in without anyone noticing, i found a place away from prying eyes and went to sleep.

[Artemis "Spirit" Jacobs]

Sharp, storm-grey eyes darted around the station from below the shadow of her crimson hoodie, the sleeves of which were pulled down over slender fingers and shoved into its pockets. It was late; the few travelers that loitered in the halls innocently pretended not to see her. Blues rarely came down here, especially at this hour- it was common procedure for them to complacently ignore the petty crimes that ruled the city's underbelly.

Spirit stood by as the train rumbled in to place, considering her warped reflection in the vehicle's dirtied windows. With her white pants and vibrant, blood-red jacket and shoes, she certainly stood out, and any passerby that paid the least bit attention recognized her for what she was. Unworried, and feeling the least bit reckless, she quietly noted the way their eyes flickered over her as they departed the train, then quickly darted away, as if determined to forget they had seen her.

The seventeen year old's migration from the Red's base had been merely for clearing her head; not entirely considered a person that liked to deal with large gatherings, she felt the confines of the warehouse to be suffocating and tiring. She had wandered the streets to the underground, alert for any late-night blues but unworried on the whole. She had no intention of catching the train, and stood a few minutes longer to watch it rattle out of sight, blandly wondering where its occupants could be going at this hour, if they had any family to return to.

Turning slowly on her heel, Spirit took a sharp left and meandered down the near-deserted station, scuffing the soles of her shoes on the concrete as she walked. She was aiming for the less-traveled side of the subway, where it wound into a labyrinth of unused or service rooms and she was unlikely to encounter anyone else. It was a foolish thing to do, especially for a woman alone, but a faintly stubborn pride falsely assured her that she was in no danger.

Lazily rounding a corner, the young woman was continuing down the sickly-yellow illuminated halls when an open door caught her attention. Cracked open just a tad, enough illumination had filtered through the space and was lying over a shoe- a shoe she noted, quite obviously, attached to a foot.

Curiosity getting the better of common sense, Spirit cautiously crept over and pressed open the door, bathing a boldly-dressed figure in the faint light. Runner, she thought immediately; judging by the colors he wore, she would have suspected him to be a member of the Reds. Being its leader, however, she did not recognize him.

Walking cat-like to his side, Spirit frowned down at the sleeping boy. Foolish, she thought. Though they would rarely come down here, an occasional wandering Blue would be all too happy to set his arse in the slammer, for being seemingly homeless, if for no other reason.

She nudged him forcefully with her foot. "Hey, get up."

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[Andrew "Bullet" Stewart]

The Endlessness of a dream, imagination which anything can occur. My dream was nothing special but it had occurred many nights before, my dream is that i am next to a family dressed in red, their faces were all darkened except for mine and a woman, she had a messy ponytail from what i could see and all i could see of her, other than her hair, was her red trainers, weird as it was, it was true. I wished i had a family to belong with, whether they be wearing red or green, I just wanted one.

My sudden unconsciousness had been taken away with simple words of a female.
"Hey, get up." said the unknown woman. As i got up i saw a woman with a crimson hoodie, cargo pants and red trainers, the same trainers from my dream.
"Wha...Who are you?" I asked wearily and sleepily, still asleep in my head.

[Artemis "Spirit" Jacobs]

"I could be just about anybody, really; a Blue, ready to toss your ass in jail for sleeping on the street, or a Green mistaking you for the enemy," Spirit said evasively, stepping out of the doorway so that her features were lightly illuminated in the hall's sickly yellow glow. She set her hands on her hips.

"Seeing as I've got the higher ground, I reverse the question- who are you? And why are you dressed like a Red?" Her eyes strayed over his sneakers, a faint frown marring her brow. She knew every runner under her command; and he was not one of them. True, it could be a simple preference of color, but to be accidentally affiliated with this unknown kid could be dangerous.

( OOC: you're getting the hang of this! :] )

[Andrew "Bullet" Stewart]

"A Blue? The cops you mean? I don't think a 'Blue' would be wearing 'Red' so that rules what you said out of the question and me? I'm Andrew, Andrew Stewart and What's a 'Red' anyway? I thought 'Red' was a colour, not a team or person....?" I snapped back at her, but staying content as well.

(OOC - Thank you! (^w^))

[Artemis "Spirit" Jacobs]

Spirit felt a flare of annoyance; she rolled her eyes at the new runner.

"I mean your runner name, kid," she said irritably. She had realized what he said about the Blues was true, sadly for her pride- she also wasn't liking the tone he was copping. "I am Spirit, and yes, like there are Blues, we call ourselves 'Reds'. I am their leader," she finished cooly, moving her hands from her hips so that they rested over her chest in a quiet, intimidating fashion.

[Andrew "Bullet" Stewart]

"Runner name??" I asked. But then I wondered...
"What's a runner?" I said dumbfounded in the midst of Spirit.

[Artemis "Spirit" Jacobs]

Spirit looked down on him, a look of mingled incredulity and amusement on her features. The young woman shook her head, and bent, offering the boy her hand.

"Follow me," she said when she stood and, flicking a glance down the dimly-illuminated halls, passed through the door and started down them, hoping the boy would follow.

"A runner," she said, whether or not he decided to, "is a messenger who delivers and steals top-secret information by means of Parkour- you must have heard of that, at least," Spirit cast him a sideways glance; it just occurred to her that he could be an undercover Blue. Tracing his slim figure with her eyes, however, she detected no weapon. Still, no reason to be careless.

"As you rightly guessed, we call cops Blues," she said, returning her silver eyes to the hallway in front of her. "They're a huge pain in the ass; running, as you see, isn't exactly legal."

At this the pair had come to a flight of darkened steps, the length of which looked eerie and hardly inviting. Frowning up them, Spirit hesitated a second before ascending. It's really weird that no one seems to come down here.

Eyes flickering at the darker corners of the station, Spirit continued. "Even though its not what you'd call being a model citizen, we run because be believe the government is at fault for the poverty and oppression here. There are two running teams vying for power here; the Greens, and mine, the Reds. Lame names, I know, but what can you do?"

[Andrew "Bullet" Stewart]

As Spirit gave her hand...I accepted, she told me about what 'runners' were.
"Parkour!" I instantly noted, grinning mildly in the flickering absence of the light in the darker corners of the station.
"Well at least the name isn't about ponies and crap!" i said laughing at my own stupid joke.

[Artemis "Spirit" Jacobs]

Spirit smiled at his joke, despite herself. "'Runner names' are to protect the identity of the runner; more importantly their families and other acquaintances they may have left behind." She quieted for a second, pensive, before continuing.

"As you can imagine, 'Spirit' isn't my real name. If you want to be dressing like that," she nodded toward his loud clothing, "and doing Parkour as a living, you better have a title for yourself."

[Andrew "Bullet" Stewart]

I wondered about what she had said....a name for myself. what does that really mean in this city? Another person in jail, another blue, another green or maybe...another red!
"well I don't really have a runner name...seeing as how i'm not a runner, i wouldn't need one." i said still thinking about the whole of the situation.

"why don't you give me a runner name? or nickname, whichever you prefer" i said smiling with-out my knowing it.

[Artemis "Spirit" Jacobs]

(ooc: your runner name is the 'middle' name in the quotations you picked :])

"No." Spirit said flatly, an edge returning to her voice. "Listen, guy, you seem ok. But as I do not know you too well and you're not one of my runners, that's not quite gonna fly.

"Pick something that you can live with. If you want Blues to know your name, make it bold. Something to do with running, being fast, or whatever would help, too."

[Andrew "Bullet" Stewart]

"okay..." i thought about things that were fast...like running.
"how about...Bullet?" I asked timidly.

[Artemis "Spirit" Jacobs]

Spirit shrugged. "Dunno why you're asking me," she said indifferently. She didn't say it meanly; often, people mistook the young woman as uncaring. In reality, being the leader of the Reds for a few months now, she had learned how to set up a barrier between herself and other runners; their jobs were risky ones, and lifespans uncertain.

"But it sounds fin-"

The runner cut off short, coming to an abrupt halt in the middle of the darkened hall. In front of her, the far wall was plastered with flickering lights from just around a corner. And, she couldn't be sure, but she thought she had seen a figure illuminated against the uncertain glow.

Taking a few hesitant steps forward, placing her steps carefully so that her trainers were nearly silent on the concrete, Spirit advanced. It was an unwise decision, for many reasons- rule number one of the unwritten Runner's Law was to not investigate strange things. It was to quell the instinctual curiosity, put your head down, and keep moving. This was in strict violation of rule number one.

Secondly, Spirit had baggage. No matter how eager the boy was, or how lithe he appeared, he was not an experienced runner. Furthermore, his shoes were a beacon that linked him back to Reds; clearly unwittingly, he had allied himself with the Runner group. Could this be a rival Green, or even a Blue, there could be issues.

But the figure silhouetted against the flickering light was bent, and looked to be shuffling incoherently from side to side. There was a low, minute whimpering and groaning, and once or twice Spirit heard a dry retching echo down the hall. Despite rule number one, despite her better judgment, the runner felt a stab of pity for the fellow and rounded the corner.

A man stood there, clothed in a tattered and stained suit. His back was turned from her and he was bent slightly over, gulping in large, heaving breaths and trembling violently. A shiver ran the length of Spirit's spine; she took an uncertain step towards him.

"Hey," she said gently, "do you need-?" an unconscious gasp interrupted her as the man turned on the spot, fixing her with watery, bloodshot eyes. His mouth hung open at a vacant, strange angle and there was a spot of dried blood that had trickled from its corner; he was wringing his hands in a desperate, agitated manner, though his eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the young woman. Spirit took a step back.

"Are you ok?" she said, her voice a bit louder. "Do you need help?" he blinked at her, an awful, twitching motion that seemingly required the full use of his head. Unnerved, Spirit turned to her companion.

"Bullet, I need you to go back to the main subway and find someone to help- not a Blue!" she added in earnest. "I-I'll stay here, just don't be too- shit!" The man had suddenly lurched forward, seizing the unsuspecting woman by the front of her hoodie.

"Help me," he groaned, dark blood bubbling from his throat. He staggered to his knees, pulling Spirit so that she was hunched over awkwardly, yanking helplessly at his fingers. The man had a grip like iron.

"Sir, let me go," Spirit said forcefully, all her self-control bent on remaining calm. Her eyes had begun to water; the man smelled like death. "Let go of me, I- we'll go get you help...."

But the man only shook his head, sinking weakly further toward the floor. "Please," he begged; he was now reaching a hand toward her face, a movement that visibly panicked Spirit; she writhed and twisted in his grip. He was seemingly fading in and out of conscious thought.

"Such a pretty girl," he gurgled next, a dimness in his eyes.

[Andrew "Bullet" Stewart]

"Shit...what a mess!" I said to Spirit, who was still panicking at the man who was in the midst of death.
"We cant help him now, he's gone." I said. suddenly I heard Footsteps coming to our location...was it a blue?
"Shit, Spirit, we need to get out of here....now! follow me!" I said without thinking.

I ran to a door and rammed it open, in the next room were pipes and boxes lying about in a formation which allowed me to launch myself upwards and forwards to be able to grab the pipe leading to a vent. As I did, i grabbed the pipe wondering if Spirit had followed.