Kal
Madam Stabby-Stab
"No bullshit, if either one of us tries anything, all of the others turn on him. And if there is another freak like us that tries to hunt us down...we'll give him hell."
Hearing the words, Vivan's left brow raised slow till it reached its peak, her gaze on the archer's, Alexi's, hand. Held out as a sign, an indication of his commitment to the 'alliance'. Her gaze swiftly shifted to his eyes, her own dark orbs boring into his. "You put a lot of confidence in people you just met," she spoke with the same hard tone of earlier. "This sick... game rewards the last one standing. You can go on and kid yourself but- ..."
Vi faltered. A moment, a fleeting one, where she saw the four of them, in a different circumstance, in a different setting, could have just been four normal teens chattin' it up in some school yard, the burdens on their shoulders no more heavy than air itself. The fantasy passed as quickly as it came, dashed and stuffed away in some remote corner.
"...But I-"
Loud, booming words shook through the morgue, demanding everyone's attention. Each word could be heard clearly, some more emphasized than others. Somehow, someway, she heard the coded message through the words. Who could be... Her eyebrows furrowed, mouth drawing into a harsh line as the fingers resting on her left side gathered together in a tight fist. "The man," she hissed. Calling them all to one place to duke it out, no doubt. Well, Vivian had other plans.
The blonde grabbed up her spear, ready to head out. Only, the sheet dragged on the cold floor below her. I can't move in this... or with this, she thought with a glance at her weapon. Her eyes shifted from the lengthy weapon to the entirety of the morgue, sweeping the vicinity before her eyes settled on the body next to her. "I better not catch some disease," she muttered to the deaf ears of the dead. Grabbing the cloth and exposing the poor, deceased man, she tore it in half. Taking the half, she tore it into two uneven, large strips. Turning her back on the three others, she let the sheet around her fall and tied the two smaller torn strips onto herself. Looking down at her work, she frowned. Looks like some half-assed swimsuit. But it would have to do. At least it was easier to move in. Grabbing the remaining torn cloth, she tore a small strip off of it, then she wrapped the large part around her spear. The tiny strip she tied in a knot around her cloth to hold it in place. The knot tied in such a way that pulling on one end would loosen it.
Her makeshift attire and spear-concealer done, she ripped through the exit. Wait right where you are, she thought darkly, I'm coming for you.
Hearing the words, Vivan's left brow raised slow till it reached its peak, her gaze on the archer's, Alexi's, hand. Held out as a sign, an indication of his commitment to the 'alliance'. Her gaze swiftly shifted to his eyes, her own dark orbs boring into his. "You put a lot of confidence in people you just met," she spoke with the same hard tone of earlier. "This sick... game rewards the last one standing. You can go on and kid yourself but- ..."
Vi faltered. A moment, a fleeting one, where she saw the four of them, in a different circumstance, in a different setting, could have just been four normal teens chattin' it up in some school yard, the burdens on their shoulders no more heavy than air itself. The fantasy passed as quickly as it came, dashed and stuffed away in some remote corner.
"...But I-"
Loud, booming words shook through the morgue, demanding everyone's attention. Each word could be heard clearly, some more emphasized than others. Somehow, someway, she heard the coded message through the words. Who could be... Her eyebrows furrowed, mouth drawing into a harsh line as the fingers resting on her left side gathered together in a tight fist. "The man," she hissed. Calling them all to one place to duke it out, no doubt. Well, Vivian had other plans.
The blonde grabbed up her spear, ready to head out. Only, the sheet dragged on the cold floor below her. I can't move in this... or with this, she thought with a glance at her weapon. Her eyes shifted from the lengthy weapon to the entirety of the morgue, sweeping the vicinity before her eyes settled on the body next to her. "I better not catch some disease," she muttered to the deaf ears of the dead. Grabbing the cloth and exposing the poor, deceased man, she tore it in half. Taking the half, she tore it into two uneven, large strips. Turning her back on the three others, she let the sheet around her fall and tied the two smaller torn strips onto herself. Looking down at her work, she frowned. Looks like some half-assed swimsuit. But it would have to do. At least it was easier to move in. Grabbing the remaining torn cloth, she tore a small strip off of it, then she wrapped the large part around her spear. The tiny strip she tied in a knot around her cloth to hold it in place. The knot tied in such a way that pulling on one end would loosen it.
Her makeshift attire and spear-concealer done, she ripped through the exit. Wait right where you are, she thought darkly, I'm coming for you.
