Who: War and Open When: One dark and stormy night.. Where: The Buildings of New York Rated: TBA
Her barefeet stuck out just a hint over the edge of the skyscraper that overlooked the bustling streets of New York City. Even with the rain and thunder that she felt so close to she could still hear the blaring of overplayed rap music coming from the radios of cars. As if each individual was trying to show that their speakers were better and thus they could be louder then any other. How any person actually found sleep in a hotel, an apartment, hell even the streets was a mystery to her.
War held in her hand a penny, a dime, a nickel, and a quarter. It was a night for contemplating revenge upon those that had done her wrong. Those that had hurt her but somehow still remained breathing. They had put bullets through her car, ruined her dress, and perhaps the worst thing they could have done was ruin her pride. Revenge was on her mind and men had gone to war for less then a 200 dollar suit.
It was the fact of betrayl that crawled under her skin like maggots in a corpse. She was the one to betray, the humans were there for her to control, and yet they had disobeyed her orders. They had killed her master scheme. And worst of all, if she did not kill them soon, her alias would be announced dead. That just would not do. Already rumours was spreading that they had bumped her full of lead, bullets meant for her high paying clients, and now a new name was going to surface to replace her.
Sickening. The penny slipped from her hand and she watched it fall, shining in the violent lightening that reflected her mood. The only thing that could bring her solace to a head filled with too many plots was perhaps the pain of others. She was wondering how cheap it could be to kill a person from this hieght.
Or at least wound them.
She was so high up in the dark it was near impossible to see her figure. Her toes, whose nails were painted a dark red, wiggled in the wind. Anyone that did see her would likely think her a jumper. Suicide wasn't her style. Not when homocide was so much more fun.