Musings of a Feather

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[disclaimer & author’s note]

The dining cavern appeared to be unusually crowded for an evening when nothing of importance was happening. Salah paused for a moment as she gazed around her, wondering if she’d missed something that had been announced earlier that day.

‘Tith’s rider requested everyone be in the dining hall at the dusk candlemark.’ Kraykth supplied.

‘And you didn’t tell me this because…? I’m a sharding Goldrider what if I hadn’t come!’ Salah sent back along their mental link, irritation sparking in it.

‘You would have. I knew, I brought you. You never miss a meal.’ Kraykth’s response was slick and smug, content that her jibe had hit its mark when Salah’s escalating emotions reached her.

‘And neither do you, barrel.’ The nickname was fond, despite the icy way in which it was said.

Salah continued to make her way through the hall, stopping off to greet some riders on her way to the high table.

“Ah, Salah! We wondered where you were. V’hau is not with you?” The Weyrwoman’s voice was smooth and warm, just as her hands were as they grasped her arms from the side.

“No Weyrwoman, should he be?” Her lips pursed into a hard line, brown eyes staring the Weyrwoman down despite having to look up at the tall, willowy woman.

Priscilla saw the sharpness in her eyes and dismissed it with a wave of her hand, gently steering Salah to her seat. “Of course not, it was simply an enquiry. Now Salah, I wanted to talk to you sooner, but fate would have it you be as hard to find as a firelizard clutch. I have decided it is time for me to retire as the Weyrwoman of High Reaches.” Here Priscilla paused, her eyes searching the fellow Goldrider’s face for a reaction. Horror rippled across Salah’s face, causing Priscilla to flinch somewhat. “Salah, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing, nothing Weyrwoman.” Salah spoke quickly and stumbled slightly, her knuckles white as she grasped the edge of the table with all the strength she could muster.

‘Kraykth! Kraykth you’re not due to-‘

No. The Gold’ s chiming voice soothed Salah somewhat, though the tension and anxiety that buzzed along their mental link didn’t cease.

“Salah, my sources tell me that Kraykth isn’t due to rise for a while now. Sarkth however, appears to be soon to rise.” Priscilla continued to watch Salah, carefully gauging her responses, wary of the rider’s apparently strong emotions.

“Mirale? She’s barely out of her weyrling training!” Salah protested, more out of logic than desire. Inside her heart was skipping beats, as her mind warred with the potential consequences. An extremely young rider pair could lead an entire Weyr, or herself and Kraykth could, a pair who quite simply, had not a care for the politics of a Weyr.

“Yes, I understand that. Would you like to take my place then?” Priscilla chose her words well, as Salah’s face was drained of its emotion, fear flashing over it momentarily before she regained composure.

“N-not exactly, Weyrwoman.” Her eyes dropped from the woman before her, staring idly at her plate for a moment before they began to rove around the room.

“As I thought. I’m sure you remember the words said about yourself as a weyrling having Impressed dear Kraykth, ” Salah’s eyes halted, staring furiously at a drudge making his way around a table of rowdy male riders. “I understand that Weyr politics and the duties of a Weyrwoman aren’t exactly your cup of klah, and as such I must out all my faith in Mirale. Of course I shall be guiding her every step of the way, and I wish I could stay in my place for a few more Turns but… Tith isn’t going to rise to mate again, she’s confirmed that and we pushed it long enough waiting nine turns since her last clutch.”

Salah relaxed, shifting her gaze away from the drudge who was beginning to glance around uneasily. “I see. I will out my faith in Mirale as well. Hopefully Sarkth will catch well.”

“Mm.” Priscilla murmured her agreement, turning to the Weyrleader beside her to continue their previous conversation.

With a sigh, Salah picked up her fork, absentmindedly stirring the food on her plate about, a whole mix of emotions swirling about in the depths of her belly. It felt like dozens of candlemarks had passed before the Weyrwoman rose, her arms held out wide in a command for silence. Food barely touched, Salah turned her gaze up to her, but not before stealing a glance at Mirale, who wriggled in excited anticipation.

‘Why are you worried?’

‘Because the other weyrs won’t like this. They’ll mutter that Priscilla should have waited for you to rise.’ The mixture of feelings running through her body spilled onto the mental link, and a sharp dragon bark was heard outside, though perhaps Salah was hearing it through their bond.

Stop worrying. Tith’s rider knows what she’s doing. The other Weyrs will not realize for some time. Kraykth had a point Salah mused, the Weyrs were autonomous, and very rarely stuck their noses into each other’s business. As such, it could even be turns before they realized a young woman of only twenty-one was leading the weyr. She shook her head to rouse herself from her thoughts, glancing around the room as she tried to grasp where Priscilla was up to in her speech.

“-time then, for myself and Tith to step down from our leading position in the Weyr. Whoever rises next out of Kraykth and Sarkth, will take my place. I shall guide them until they are confident to lead on their own, and will always be there for a consult. That is all.” The Weyrwoman seated herself, turning to talk to Y’don, choosing to ignore the whispers that were flying around the dining hall. Salah stood, food left on her plate uncharacteristically, and approached Mirale, holding out her hand.

“May the best woman and dragon win?” False mirth fell out of her mouth with her words, her eyes barely masking the dread she felt welling up inside. The young woman stared up at Salah from her seat, honey coloured hair falling back from her face as she shook her head lightly. A smile cracked her face open wide, the fleeting confusion at Salah’s words having left her face. Reaching out she grabbed her forearm in the typical dragonrider fashion, blue eyes dancing. “Indeed! Good luck.”

Salah held back a snort, only an inexperienced rider wouldn’t realise that luck had nothing to do with it. She forced a weak smile out before letting go of the woman’s arm, turning on her heel and striding out.

It wasn’t till the cooling night air hit her face that Salah gasped, and realized she had been holding her breath for most of the walk out into the weyrbowl. Kraykth roared in anxiety, swooping down to land dangerously close to her rider, loping forward awkwardly and pushing her snout into her rider forcefully. Stumbling backwards Salah landed on the ground with a thud, and sat there for a moment before she burst into tears.

‘Salah! Are you hurt? Oh I didn’t hurt you did I?’ Kraykth continued to push her nose into her rider, snuffling about to trying and find any injury she might have inflicted.

Salah shoved her head away with a bit more force than she intended, growling as she did so. “No I’m not hurt you sharding buffoon!”

‘Buffoon?’ Kraykth stopped stock still, satisfied that her rider hadn’t been hurt by her, as curiosity filtered along their bond.

“Uh… silly person.” Salah explained weakly.

‘I am no person! And I am not silly either! What if you were hurt?’ Kraykth lifted her great head to stare down at her rider with yellow eyes, her soft voice indignant.

“Well then a silly dragon. You’re silly for thinking I was hurt when you should have felt that I wasn’t.” Her brown eyes glared up at the Gold dragon, though her voice betrayed the relief she felt at her dragon’s concern.

‘What if you were hurt where I can’t always feel?’ The Gold continued to stare at Salah, clearly pointing out her habit at locking her harmful emotions away from the dragon.

Salah sighed, resigned to the fact that she wasn’t going to win this argument. Reaching out to the dragon she grumbled when the Gold didn’t move from her disapproving pose. Standing up she dusted herself down, before walking around to Kraykth’s side.

“I think it’s time we retired.”

‘But I will still rise!’ Kraykth protested, misunderstanding her rider’s choice of words.

“No no, no. I meant that it’s time we returned to out beds and slept.” Salah swiftly mounted her dragon, managing to wipe her face of the damp tears that still lingered there. Kraykth pushed off from the ground, beating her wings furiously to rise into the sky before she turned and made her way over to their weyr. Landing gently on the ledge she crouched to allow her rider to dismount before she slunk into the outer weyr and curled up to sleep.

Salah ran her hands gently over the golden hide, admiring her work from earlier that day. Sighing contentedly she pushed her way past the hanging separating the outer and inner weyrs and made her way to her bed. Stripping down her clothes swiftly she almost literally dove into the pile of furs, wrapping herself in their softness and wriggling until she found a comfortable niche. Sleep then claimed her exhausted mind, all the worries of her day slipping away into the black.

[[first chapter | previous chapter | next chapter | last chapter]]
[disclaimer & author’s note]

The harsh summer sun had sunk well below the high rim of High Reaches Weyr, though the air still lingered with a thick heat. Salah paced nervously in her weyr, her bare feet making loud slapping noises on the floor as she did so.

‘Salah stop pacing.’ Came her Gold’s strong mental command. The Goldrider stopped as she was bid, sighing as she turned and approached the hanging that separated her inner weyr from the outer weyr where Kraykth was resting. Pulling the hanging to the side she passed through and sat beside the great head of her life partner.

“V’hau isn’t my weyrmate, I don’t enjoy his company.” Salah grumbled, reaching up to rub Kraykth’s eye ridges.

‘So don’t be his weyrmate.’ The Gold rumbled soothingly, though her voice was filled with a crisp sternness in the hope to pull Salah out of this anxious mindset she was in.

“But it is expected of me! You are a Gold dragon…” Kraykth snorted at this, seemingly offended that her rider had to state such an obvious thing. “That means I should have a stable relationship, more than a Greenrider. Uloth sires grand clutches with you, and you seem to enjoy his company.”

‘I will enjoy any dragon’s company if his or her rider pleases you.’ Kraykth interrupted, turning a swirling yellow eye to gaze upon her rider. Looking up Salah noticed this, and shook her head.

“I know. I’m sorry for worrying you. I’ll go talk to V’hau now, this is just silly.” Salah stood, Kraykth nuzzling her softly in encouragement as green filtered into her eyes. “Can you take me to his weyr Kray?”

‘Of course Salah.’ Kraykth shifted slightly, moving her closest foreleg so that the woman could climb up onto her back. Once she was settled, the Gold walked out to the ledge, launching herself out with a powerful jump. Beating her massive wings Kraykth rose quickly up to the right height for the Bronzerider’s weyr, and glided over to where it was located. Bugling quietly to announce herself she landed on the ledge, shuffling around slightly to allow Salah to dismount.

“I’ll call for you when I need to leave.” Salah slapped the side of the great dragon affectionately before she launched off the ledge to find a suitable place to doze in the evening heat.

Stepping into the outer weyr Salah called out, somewhat nervously. “V’hau? Are you here?” It was only then she realised that the outer weyr was devoid of Uloth. “Shards, he’s probably not here.” Pushing aside the hanging separating the weyr space she peeked inside, starting when she found V’hau standing there lacking clothing of any sort.

“So you do want to be my weyrmate Salah!” V’hau’s voice was deep and suggestive, mirth dancing in his eyes as the Goldrider gave an awkward squawk and dropped the hanging. Rubbing at her eyes furiously Salah spun around and made her way back out to the ledge, trying to ignore the laughter that was ringing out behind her.

“Oh come back Salah, please?” V’hau pulled the hanging just enough to peek his head out, but keep the rest of his body hidden from sight. “It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”

“But you still must have heard me call out for you! You could have at least warned me.” Salah’s face was a furious shade of red, and she refused to turn around, believing that V’hau was most likely being as immodest as he could possibly be.

“Well you didn’t come up to my weyr for no reason at all. Wait a moment.” V’hau dropped the hanging and Salah heard him walking back into his weyr. Standing relatively still she gazed out into the Weyr, it was buzzing with activity after the hot day, the evening meal was likely to be served soon, and everyone was making up for the time they had spent relaxing during the intense midday sun. Lost in thought she jumped, making a squawking sound again as V’hau suddenly embraced her from behind. Her eyes wide with shock she froze, before noticing that the body behind her was now clothed, as a light tunic was rubbing against her bare upper arms and with a quick glance down she could see trousers instead of bare legs. Sighing and relaxing into the embrace she then realised what was occurring and she jumped again, stiffening as she tried to turn around in V’hau’s tight embrace.

“Yes my darling?” He purred into her ear, causing her to shiver in disgust.

“Get off me V’hau!” He did as he was told, a grin plastered across his tanned face. Salah stepped away and turned to face him properly, glaring up at the smiling man.

“So, would you like to come in?” V’hau offered as politeness dictated, his arm gesturing towards the inner part of his weyr.

Salah’s face reddened again, as she mumbled something along the lines of ‘might as well’. Pushing the thick hanging to the side, Salah glanced around the Bronzerider’s weyr as she walked in. It was simple and like the majority of other weyrs for the most part; a large bed, chest, and a table with a couple chairs, as well as an opening leading to a personal bathing room. There was a detailed quilt on the bed, depicting a Bronze dragon curled up with his rider with the Seven Spindles of High Reaches in the background.

“I see you like the bed.” V’hau commented, causing Salah to jump yet again, her eyes instantly trying to seek something else to stare at.

“No, no! I was just admiring the quilt! It’s very well woven, do you know who wove it?” Salah tripped over her words as they were lost and muddled between her brain and her mouth, her cheeks burning red with embarrassment.

“No, I don’t know. It was a gift from my parents when I graduated my weyrlinghood.” V’hau strode over to the table, picking up a kettle of klah and pouring a mug for himself. Offering the kettle to Salah she nodded, taking a seat at the table and accepting the mug she was given. Blowing on the steaming liquid she kept her eyes focused on it, avoiding making contact with V’hau’s. He smiled at this, blowing on his own klah in the silence that sat over them. After a while V’hau had managed to down about a third of his drink, and upon noticing this he placed the cup down with an audible thud.

“I know you’re not here just to sit and drink klah with me Salah. What is it you want?” He winced somewhat at his last words, hearing the harsh intonation of them well after he’d blurted them out. Salah looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, to which he smiled half-heartedly at.

“I’m here to discuss weyrmates.” Her words shook slightly once she managed to get them out.

“Alright. You don’t appear to desire me as your weyrmate, so what is it about weyrmates exactly you need to discuss with me?” This time it was V’hau’s turn to raise his eyebrow.

“As you know, I was weyrmates with Tor’c.”

“As does the entire Weyr Salah, Sprilth caught Kraykth for about 10 clutches.” At this Salah shot V’hau a venomous glare, to which he decided it would be wise to stay silent until she bid him speak.

“Yes. I’m clearly not weyrmates with him anymore. I wanted to make it clear that just because Uloth caught Kraykth, doesn’t mean that we’re weyrmates. I don’t particularly enjoy your intimate company, and do not wish to be in your general company alone often, if at all.” Salah paused, somewhat lost as to where she should continue, and wondering if her words had been too harsh.

“If I may?” V’hau ventured, proceeding when Salah nodded her head at him somewhat. “I apologise if I’ve offended you with my habits, it’s somewhat of a habit of mine, as Uloth isn’t often a winner of flights.”

“That’s not what the Greenriders say.” Salah snorted, but her mood appeared to be picking up somewhat.

V’hau chuckled at her quip. “Alright, you got me there. Perhaps it was a bit of an assumption on my part that we would become weyrmates after Uloth and Kraykth mated twice, as that’s usually you know… a hint.” His eyebrows raised somewhat, wondering if she understood his train of thought.

“I suppose it usually is. Kraykth seems to enjoy Uloth’s company though, since I haven’t really tried to sway her flight outcomes since I broke it off with Tor’c.” Salah’s words made it clear she understood V’hau, and his eyebrows relaxed to their usual position.

“So let me get this straight… You’re not looking for a weyrmate since you separated from Tor’c, and Kraykth is mating with Uloth because she enjoys it, it’s not your own influence in the choice?”

“Yes.” Salah’s eyes lit up somewhat, this conversation wasn’t as bad nor as awkward as she had imagined it to be.

V’hau smiled, reaching out to take one of her hands in his. “Well then, my not-weyrmate, I shall leave you be then.” Salah rolled her eyes at his words, before she quickly downed the rest of her rapidly cooling klah. Standing she gave him a brief smile, nodding somewhat as she thanked him for the klah.

“Anytime Goldrider.” V’hau stood, nodding in return.

‘Kraykth, I’m ready to leave now.’ Salah sent out to her Gold as she made her way towards the outer weyr. Almost simultaneously with her words there was a slight thud and the scraping of claws on that could be heard on the ledge outside. Passing into the outer weyr Salah was greeted with a great Bronze head, slowly whirling green eyes turned to watch her.

“Oh! Hello Uloth.” The Bronze dipped his head in acknowledgement of her greeting, shifting to the side and moving further in towards his stone couch, allowing Salah to make her way out.

Standing just inside of the ledge she watched as her dragon glided in to the ledge of V’hau’s weyr, landing gracefully along with a similar thud and scraping sound that Uloth had. Walking out she ran her hand along Kraykth’s hide, smiling at the smooth and soft feel the oiling from that afternoon had given it. Reaching her foreleg she hoisted herself up onto her neck, settling herself and giving the signal that she was ready for flight. The Gold propelled herself up with a powerful jump, wheeling around to glide across the weyrbowl.

‘The evening meal is almost ready to be served, shall I take you there?’ Kraykth offered, beating her wings a few times to keep a decent height from the ground.

‘Yes, that would be lovely Kray.’ Kraykth turned somewhat, making her way to the entrance of the dining cavern. Landing gracefully she turned a spiralling blue eye to her rider, deep and clear in colour.

‘You are happier now.’ The chiming voice was gleeful in Salah’s mind, despite the somewhat commanding statement.

‘Yes Kray, I am happier now.’ She responded as she slid down the Gold’s side. Slapping the dragon heartily she grinned, turning and making her way into the cavern as Kraykth launched herself up to make way for another dragon to deposit their rider for the evening meal.

Disclaimer

I do not own Pern, or the concept. All the characters I am using however, are MINE. Some elements are not what is regarded as ‘strictly canon’.

Author’s Note

Due to many roleplays that I have participated in, I am accustomed to there being female Brown and Blue riders. I have worked out a ratio however for this, and it works that for every 1 female Brown rider, there are 9 males, and every 3 female Blue riders, there are 7 males.

I noticed that a lot of people use different meanings for the colours of dragon eyes. As a reference, this is what I go by:

Dark Red: Enraged, furious.
Red: Angry, provoked
Orange: Irritated, frustrated
Yellow: Worried
Green: Calm, surprise (if bright)
Blue: Happiness, the darker the happier
Violet: Lusty, ready to rise
Purple: Confusion
Pink: Excitement
Grey: Pain, the darker the more intense
Black: Extreme, potentially unbearable pain. Said to be seen in the eyes of dragons before they go between.
White: Terrified, scared

That’s about all I have to say thus far, so please read on and enjoy! :)

Chapter 1: Hide Doesn’t Cause Death

The skies of Anthem City were grey, coated in thick clouds and stewing in dense muggy heat. Scotia hated this weather, it made for unnecessary sweat and unruly hair. Nagira hated it even more, as it came with storms that lasted for hours upon hours, something the cat Pokemon was terrified of. Scotia stared out the window of her apartment, silently hoping she wouldn’t be assigned a mission which required her going outside while the weather was so stormy. There was a light knock at the door, a muffled voice calling out ‘room service’. She turned to face the door, knowing full well that apartments in this building did not receive room service, as it wasn’t a hotel. Sighing she stood, tucking her vibrant hair behind an ear and making her way over to the door. Upon reaching it she stared through the peephole, which showed her a nondescript man, wearing a grey coat and hat, hiding his face. Narrowing her eyes she opened the door, quickly noticing the platter he held before him, which was covered with a cloche.

“Ma’am, your room service.” His deep voice was soft enough that anyone nearby couldn’t hear him, but quite clear so that Scotia could. She turned her nose up at him, having taken in his somewhat drab appearance. Even resting in her apartment she wore a robin egg coloured blouse with a short black cardigan and pencil skirt, a streamlined pair of glasses resting on the end of her nose. “Ma’am?” His voice brought her out of her mental criticism of his attire.

“Mm, yes.” Scotia took the proffered platter, turning to return to her apartment.

“Excuse me ma’am, I require your response.”

She turned back, raising her eyebrow at his words. “Response?”

“Yes ma’am.” Sighing she held the platter out to him, indicating that he should hold it. Lifting the cloche she took the envelope that was sitting inside and opened it neatly. Quickly scanning the letter she groaned slightly, she was to retrieve some electric Pokemon that were currently visiting Anthem City with their masters. Electric Pokemon combined with the current weather meant only one thing; thunder storms. Turning the letter over she pursed her lips at the illustrated reward, and sighed as she put the letter back onto the platter with the envelope.

“My response is yes.” Scotia deemed the reward to definitely be worth the trouble to go out in the storms that would result, but doing it wouldn’t be any pleasure at all.

“You don’t require the letter, ma’am?” He asked, putting the cloche back onto the platter.

“No. Is that it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” At his confirmation Scotia turned, disappearing back into her flat and closing the door promptly in his face.

“Oh Nagira, we have to go /outside/. In this weather!” The small Pokemon looked up at her from the chair she was curled up in, her lips curled back in disgust. “I know, disgusting isn’t it? The reward is substantial though.” Nagira growled faintly, still displeased despite the promise of a decent reward.

Scotia went to her wardrobe, picking out some more suitable clothes for the mission she’d been given, including of course, her Team Rocket uniform. Quickly glancing outside her windows to see if anyone was looking in she stripped off her clothes, pulling on her uniform as well as a second belt and a thick black jacket. Looping her hair up into a bun she tugged on a black hat to hold it there, wrapping a scarf around her exposed neck. Reapplying her make up she grabbed a charcoal sling bag, stuffing in the items she needed for the job. Pulling a pokeball off her primary belt she went over to Nagira, gently stroking the feline and murmuring some soothing words before she returned her to the ball. Looking around she checked that she had everything she needed before flicking the television on, only then proceeding to leave her flat. Locking the door she turned around, sighing at the thought of the storm she would no doubt have to endure.

-

Rain had begun to fall over Anthem City, covering it in a dull haze as it fell heavier and heavier over time. Scotia shook her head to rid the brim of her hat of droplets again, staring out across the street. There was a small huddle of people there, trying to avoid the rain by standing under an insufficient amount of umbrellas. It was these people Scotia had spent the better part of her afternoon tracking. She hadn’t seen them interact with a single Pokemon once yet, but they kept their hands close to their belts and in some cases necks or bags at all times, a tell tale sign of something extremely precious being kept there. Their plain and simple attire proved that there was no clothing, jewellery or other non-Pokemon related items of value on their persons.

Staring at them Scotia sighed, they had been standing there for the past thirty minutes, and she’d had to constantly find new places to observe them from. Her time standing in blatant sight watching them was beginning to err on the side of making them uncomfortable, and she wasn’t particularly interested in finding another place to stare at them. It was a group of about a dozen people, more men than women, and the women zealously guarded by all the men. This and other actions had tipped Scotia off as to the women holding the more valuable Pokemon. Suddenly an idea popped into her head, and though it was somewhat unorthodox, she was going to run with it because she was sick of waiting around in the rain. Turning she walked off and ducked down the first alleyway she saw, making sure she was well out of sight before releasing Nagira.

“Alright girl, time for you to do some undercover work.” Nagira yowled in displeasure as the rain soaked into her fur, Scotia petting her fervently to soothe the blue feline.

“Shhhh, it’s alright. Come on now, you need to pull your weight too.” Reaching forward she unclipped the emerald collar from the Purrloin’s neck, shoving it into her bag before reaching out again to ruffle Nagira’s well-groomed fur. She growled vehemently at this treatment, having been pampered her whole life, she was now being turned into a filthy alley cat. Scotia gave her head a stroke before she rubbed the fur there and around her face in all different directions. She reached into her bag and pulled out a plain grey collar, a tiny stone, also grey, embedded into it, clipping it onto Nagira as she spoke.

“I need you to go over there to that group of people, and play the poor lost cat. Hopefully they’ll think you’re a higher level than you are and take you in. Play up to the women, it’s them that hold the Pokemon I need.” Thunder cracked above their heads, the alley around them lighting up simultaneously. Nagira caterwauled pitifully at the sound, Scotia attempting to soothe her. “Go quickly now, I’ll be watching.” Nagira mewed, nuzzling her owner and pressing up against her legs. Scotia pushed her away, standing up and pointing out of the alley, a dark glare residing on her face. Hanging her head the feline trudged out of the alley as she was commanded, shivering violently as the rain intensified and drenched her to the bone. Pulling her jacket tighter around her Scotia watched the unfortunate Pokemon’s departure, creeping forward slowly to watch her progress.

Keeping as much out of sight as she could from the people she was targeting, she watched as they noticed the Purrloin, one of the women darting out from the meager umbrella cover and approaching the Pokemon cautiously. After assessing that she wouldn’t be bitten or scratched, she swept the cat up in her arms and rushed back over to the group she was with, the two disappearing from Scotia’s sight quickly. Having done all she could Scotia turned back down the alley way, making her way back to her apartment to wait for her Pokemon to be returned to her.

[EXPLICIT. Contains SWEARING]

Jeremiah flicked yet another card at his helmet, sighing as it spiralled and landed beyond it, joining the rest of the deck on the table. The Shar Barracks weren’t exactly known for their entertainment facilities, and it definitely showed. Flicking the last card of the deck at his helmet he rose, grunting as he did so. Walking around the table he picked up the cards, peering into his helmet to see only one had managed to land inside. Rolling his eyes he picked it out, adding it to the pile in his hand. Returning to his seat he sat down with a thump, sighing.

“Nothin’ teh do in this shit hole but throw cards at a helmet.” His voice was rough and deep, not the most soothing of things to listen to. Putting the deck down he grabbed his glass, drinking the remaining mouthful of liquor and sitting back in the chair with a sigh. There was a mechanical click to one side of the room and a sharp grating noise as the door to his quarters opened, the woman standing in the doorway noticeably wincing at the sound.

“Jeremiah you really need to put some oil on that, it’s nails on a chalkboard.” Jeremiah snorted at the old-world saying, nobody even knew what that sounded like anymore, chalkboards hadn’t existed for eons.

“Sure, find me some decent entertainment and I will, Rosette.” He grunted, not even looking up at her as she walked over to him.

“There’s plenty to do. Have you checked your roster?” Rosette held out a small electronic device that had a flickering screen and a somewhat ominous hum to it. Jeremiah didn’t give it a single glance, instead choosing to pick up the cards and flick them at his helmet again.

“Don’t need teh. It’s the same fuckin’ shit each week girl.” Rosette promptly whacked the device over the back of his head, thrusting it in front of his face.

“Read it bastard.” Her voice was icy cold as she spoke, her blue eyes narrowed venomously. Muttering under his breath Jeremiah rubbed the back of his head, taking the reader in his other hand.

“Transfer to Ibar Command Center at 0800. And I want to go to a command centre… why?” His voice drawled with boredom.

“Who cares! It’s 1000.” Rosette snatched the reader out of his hand, turning and making her way to the door.

“Like they care if I’m late I’m just a marine.” He put down the cards and stood up despite his seemingly careless attitude.

“They care enough to alert me. Meet me in the wings in five. Full gear.” With that Rosette left the marine’s quarters.

“Full gear? What does she think this is, a war zone?” He muttered, picking up his helmet and emptying it of the card that had landed in there.

-

Rosette stood leaning against her Banshee, watching the door where Jeremiah would be entering. Glancing down at her wrist she rolled her eyes, turning and getting into the cockpit. Strapping herself in she turned the mighty machine on, then proceeding to put her headset on.

“Shar Barracks, this is Rosette, Banshee Pilot, designation two zero alpha nine, requesting exit.” Her voice was clear and loud over the engines of her Banshee.

“This is Shar Barracks, Banshee two zero alpha nine, request granted.” Came the crackling reply through her headset. Flicking a few more switches Rosette stared at the door, waiting. Mere seconds passed before it slid open, Jeremiah walking through in his marine armour, helmet tucked under his arm. Leaning forward Rosette pressed a button, and held it down as she spoke.

“Get your ass in here Marine or I am leaving without you.” Her voice was projected out from the Banshee, Jeremiah visibly rolling his eyes, though he did approach the jet faster. As he arrived at the machine he clambered up into the cockpit somewhat awkwardly due to his bulky armour.

“Banshee two zero alpha nine, exiting.” Rosette then directed the Banshee up and out of the hangar.

The Shar district wasn’t anything pretty to look at. Most districts that contained barracks weren’t, as they had been through warfare at some point in their past, and as such were mostly barren lands. All the food was imported from more arable districts, those usually located around command centres.

“We’re in for a long flight, there’s some light refreshments behind the seats.” Rosette’s voice was somewhat resigned, this wasn’t a flight she was looking forward to. Jeremiah was tolerable at the best of times, and to have him riding shotgun in a Banshee with full armour on… there was going to be complaints.

“Oh yeah perfect. Food behind the seats. You know I practically can’t move right? Why did you get me in full gear anyway?” Rosette sighed at his sarcasm.

“I didn’t want you in it, the auths did. If you bothered to check your roster you would have known that.” Jeremiah chuckled, and Rosette stared at him in dumbfounded awe.

“Oh I checked the roster alright. Checked it twice, and you’ve been naughty.” His rough voice held no charm, and the sexual pun was clear as daylight. Rosette gagged at his words, a shudder running down her spine.

“Filthy bastard. Why didn’t you get on the 0500 dropship then?” She inched away from the marine as much as she could afford to without compromising the flight.

“Didn’t wan’ teh. Not like a war depends on me getting on that dropship.”

“It could.”

“It doesn’t.” Rosette sighed, giving up on conversation with the grizzled man.

-

Three hours had passed before any kind of civilization came into view, and with it Rosette sighed gratefully. Jeremiah chuckled again, earning him a strange look from his pilot, which he didn’t see, or chose to ignore.

“Ibar Command Center. It’s been years.” Jeremiah gazed down at the sprawling city that they were rapidly approaching.

“What were you there for last time?” Rosette ventured, not expecting a serious answer.

“Auths called me in to give me my brother’s junk. First and last time I was there.” His voice seemed to hold no emotion, just its usual gruffness. Rosette peered at the man, wondering if he was being serious or not.

“What happened to him?” She looked away instead choosing to look for the hangar, even though she knew exactly where it was.

“Died in the war. Took on one too many ‘lings. Or so they say.” Darkness crept into his words as he scowled down at the command centre.

“My condolences.” Jeremiah shrugged at her words, continuing to scowl out the window.

“Ibar Command Center, this is Rosette, Banshee Pilot, designation two zero alpha nine, requesting entrance.” She spoke hastily, desperate to get out of her jet and away from the marine beside her.

“This is Ibar Command Center, Banshee two zero alpha nine, request granted.” Came the crackling response from within the hangar. The awkward silence that filled the air in the cabin grated on Rosette’s nerves, causing her to pull into the hangar faster than she should have, the resulting jerk as she came to a halt robbing the two of their breath momentarily. Gasping somewhat Rosette quickly landed the Banshee, powering down the machine as quickly as it would allow her to. Un-strapping herself she unlocked the door and jumped out, not looking back to see if Jeremiah had managed to exit her vehicle all right.

[1033 words in 30 minutes. 1165 edited.]

Mier shifted slightly, opening one of her beige wings to its full extent before bringing it down to shield her sister beside her again. Tan eyes peered out the entrance of the small cave they sheltered in, staring into the never-ending storm of snow that had kept them curled up in the cave for hours. Sighing she rested her head on the cool ground, pressing against Frai for warmth. Waking from the slight pressure, Frai raised her head, eyes blinking repeatedly as she tried to gain focus. Frowning out at the snowstorm she turned to Mier, nuzzling her softly.

“Hnnn…” Mier groaned, opening one eye to stare at her sister.

“Mier, when do you think the snow will stop?” Frai asked, her voice cracking as her vocal chords struggled to warm up after such little use during the snowstorm.

“I don’t know Frai. When whatever god there is decides we’ve been tortured enough.” Mier snapped, closing her eye and pulling her extended wing close against her body.

“Oh…” Frai whimpered, afraid of her sister somewhat in her aggravated mood. Lowering her head she stared out the cave entrance again, rustling her wings slightly. Mier muttered something under her breath, standing and stretching out her limbs.

“Sorry. Come on. We need food.” Mier nuzzled Frai, stepping back as much as she could in the confined space to let the younger wolf up. Frai stood, though somewhat reluctantly.

“I don’t want to go out there Mier… it’s cold and wet.”

“We need to eat, Frai, you know that. Listen to the rumble in your belly.” Mier stared at her sister, a loud grumble coming from Frai’s stomach. She looked away, knowing her older sister was right. “Come on.”

The two approached the entrance to the cave; Mier taking the first steps out into the sheer cold. Her wings flicked up and out with the fierce wind, causing her to cry out in surprise and pain. It took all of her strength to pull her wings back down to her body and to keep them pinned there. She turned back to warn her sister of the wind, but found herself staring into the black gaping hole of the hillside she had just been curled up in.

“Frai! Frai where are you?” Mier dashed back inside, circling the small space with her eyes wide open, despite knowing her sister couldn’t be in there without her noticing. Darting back outside she ran up to the top of the hill, glancing around for any signs of the smaller wolf. The snowstorm was quick to erase tracks however, and if she had opened her wings and been lifted up there wouldn’t even be tracks to erase.

“Fraiii!” Mier screamed into the snow, despair riddling her voice. Taking a deep breath she gazed up into the air, sighing as she came to terms with what seemed to be her only viable option.

Growing up she’d always been told the stories of wolves dying in the snowstorms when they tried to fly. But there was nothing else she could do, she had to find Frai. Crouching down she steeled herself for what she was about to do, focusing on her breath and keeping her power in her hind legs. With a deep breath she launched herself off the hill with a powerful leap, letting the wind tear her wings open and then carry her into the torrential skies. The winds flipped and spun her around despite her wings being fully open, sending her careening through the storm. Fear welled in her belly, seemingly weighing her down like stones. Mier narrowed her eyes against the wind and snow, trying to gain control of her wings to steer herself somewhere more useful than just tumbling through the sky. By chance there was a momentary lull in the ferocious winds and she managed to get her wings out straight and strong, right before a wind came to lift her upwards. Suddenly she was in the clouds, her fur and feathers becoming damp as what minimal visibility she had was stripped from her. Mier panicked for a moment, her wings beating furiously to escape from the clouds. Then everything was clear. There were clouds below her and a few scattered ones above, but there was no snow and very little wind here. Holding her wings steady she glided for a moment, attempting to gain what bearings she could.

“Frai? Frai are you out there?” Mier called out hopefully, hoping her sister had managed to rise above the clouds just as she had. Silence followed her words, and sadness began to throb in her heart.

“Mier?” A faint voice called out.

“Frai?” Her voice was shrill in pitch as she beat her wings furiously, steering herself towards where she thought she had heard the voice emanate from.

“Frai is not here.” The voice spoke again, somewhat louder this time.

“Then… who are you?” Mier asked hesitantly, halting her forwards progress somewhat, struggling to hover on the spot.

“My name is Limile.” It sounded even closer this time. Mier glanced about worriedly, as a streak of green burst from the cloud cover below her. It was another winged wolf, but this one was much more dainty and lithe than a normal wolf.

“Limile? How do you know my name?” Mier stared at the wolf, studying the green patterns on its fur.

“That doesn’t matter now. What matters is Frai.” Limile’s voice was deep and somewhat musical, charming almost.

“Do you know where my sister is?” Mier asked optimistically, her eyes sparkling with hope.

“No.” Mier’s face fell instantly, her gaze dropping to the clouds below. The thought crossed her mind to just drop back down into the snowstorm underneath, to let them unleash their full wrath upon her.

“Dropping into the storm will do you no good. To find Frai you need to think clearly.” Limile’s pale green eyes stared at Mier until her tan eyes meet the stranger’s gaze.

“Think clearly? What do you think I’m doing? Thinking of mud?” Mier snarled, aggravated at the seemingly stupid suggestion.

“No, I know you’re not thinking of mud. Calm down and think clearly. That’s how you will find Frai.” Limile then turned and dove back down into the cloud cover. Mier dove down straight after the wolf, calling out as she did.

“What do you mean? I don’t understand! Limile come back! Help me, please?” Mier was surprised to find that the snowstorm had begun to wane, while snow still fell heavily, the winds had become much less fierce. Despite this there was no sign of Limile, nor Frai or any other soul in the snow. Gliding down Mier landed somewhat roughly, skidding through the snow and collapsing in an exhausted heap, sorely taxed from her flight.

“Oh Frai… Where did you go?” She whimpered quietly, before despair and fatigue caused her to pass out in the snow, snowflakes beginning to cover her as the wind ruffled her fur and feathers.

[Tegan decided she’d talk to me tonight, this is what ensued. Quotation marks are her speech.]

How are you?

“Tired, I’m so over this.”

Over what?
“This war. I’m over being on edge, covered in blood, sweat and god knows what else. Sleeping in my clothes.”

Do you think you can win the war?

“To be honest I’m not sure anymore. I thought we could, but the zombies get smarter every day… Or so it seems anyway. Maybe we’re getting stupider.”

I don’t know how you can stand to sleep in your clothes.

“I can’t haha. I never really got used to it, but you learn quickly that there’s no other way. You can’t be woken up in the midst of an attack and have to fumble around pulling on pants while you try to shoot a gun. It’s something we’ve had to sacrifice. Luxury. Damn what I’d give for a shower!”

That explains well… to be honest that smell.

“Yeah great thanks.” She rolled her eyes.

Sorry, just letting you know haha.

“Whatever. Why did I agree to this?”

To what?

“This interview, or whatever it is.”
I’m not interviewing you, just talking.

“You’re writing it all down, I’d say that’s an interview.”

I can stop then, if you like.

She shrugs, staring at the door while her finger idly taps the trigger of her gun.

What kind of gun is that?

“This? Oh this is my baby.” Her face glows with happiness. “It’s an AK-47. I found it about a month into the apocalypse after going through too many shotguns to count. This baby just works like a charm. I love her.”

I can tell. Why don’t you like shotguns?

“Too clunky. Sure they make for great damage, but I can take out zombies with ease with this, so long as I concentrate and aim properly. I was going to take a sniping gun, but they’re not too good in close combat so the AK was a better choice for me.”

Is it your only weapon?

“Of course not. You’d be an idiot to walk around with one weapon these days. What happens if you run out of ammo, or it breaks or is lost or stolen?”

True…

I don’t get a chance to say more before she continues on.

“I’ve got two pistols, here,” she shifts her AK-47 to tap at two pockets on her thighs I hadn’t noticed that bulged, rough metal handles peeking out the tops. “And then I’ve got a knife strapped here,” she taps her AK to the side of her calves, the metal tinging slightly despite the fabric barrier, “on each leg.”

You seem well equipped.

“Usually. Sometimes I pick up whatever’s around, frying pans, branches, whatever.”

I heard the zombies travel in packs.

My comment is greeted by grinding teeth and narrowed eyes.

“Yes.”

Do you?

“Wish I didn’t.”

Then why not go it alone?
“Because only idiots ‘go it alone’. Duh.” Her voice is taught with restrained anger, I can see her jaw clenching and unclenching.

It’s mostly silent for a while, only the finger tapping of her trigger and aggravated breathing interrupting it.

“Fuck I hate that prick.”

Who?

“Briar, who else.”

Why?

“’Cause he killed Dante that’s why. Cause he suggests stupid stuff and only cares about his own hide. Dunno why the hell he stays with me.”

I’m sure there’s a reason.

“Yeah he’s a dumb jerk that’s why.”

There’s more silence as Tegan seems to stew in her hatred of Briar.

—-

I don’t know how you can sleep in a bra.

“It’s not that bad. I wear sports bras all the time now so they’re fairly comfy.”

Still. –shudder- I can’t stand it, it’s all painful. Then again I put it on once I’m awake almost straight away. Hurts to move around otherwise.

“That’s cause you’re bigger than me haha.”

Not by much.

“Enough that it makes a difference.”

S’pose so.

—-

What was it like losing your family?
“I didn’t realize at first. Emma and Jason had moved out, Emma went interstate to Western Australia and Jason went a couple hours north. I kept somewhat regular contact with them, same with my parents. I didn’t move too far from them, but once the apocalypse hit, everything became further away than it was to start with. Actually… I don’t know if Emma’s gone yet. It’s easier to pretend they’ve all gone, honestly. What it was like though… it was hard. The entire process from going from a normal world to an apocalyptic one was hard. Is hard. You just don’t know where to turn anymore.”

Tegan is silent again, her strong façade wavering as she sits and reflects upon the pain that is her life now.

—-

“I think… I’m going to head off. I’ve been here too long.”
Oh, but we’ve barely been here an hour.

“Too long. Can’t stay long in any one place. Sleeping is dangerous enough, you gotta keep moving in the day.”
Hmm… Alright.

“You’re a lucky bitch you know?”
How come?
“Sitting there all curled up and warm with one of your cats, the most of your worries is if they fight. No life or death for you.”

Yeah I guess you’re right.

“Well, gotta go now. Stay here, they can’t see you. Unlike me.”

She gets up off the end of my bed, holding her gun up, poised to shoot if a zombie comes close.

Good luck…

I trail off, not bothering to utter the rest of the phrase; have fun.

“Sure whatever.”

She doesn’t say farewell as she slips out of the room like a shadow. There’s no evidence she’s been here, asides from the faint smell of blood and dirt, fading by the second.

When I was a child, I would always ask my grandfather to tell me the story of the colour we couldn’t see. He’d happily oblige, sitting me down excitedly on his knee, exaggeratingly clearing his throat and launching into that deep mystical story-teller voice all our grandparents seem to possess.

“A long, long time ago, there was a planet called Earth. On Earth, was where our ancestors, Humans, were born. Nobody knows how they came to be, but it’s said that they created our great colours. They coloured the waters blue and the skies a pale yellow, and their star, Sun, a bright yellow dot in the sky. The trees were brown, with leaves that started red and turned purple during the Autumn years. It was a marvellous place, with mountains of sheer diamond and volcanoes studded with rubies. One day, Humans decided to make another colour, and that colour, was Green. But they had nothing to colour green! So they went out from their homes and prayed to their gods, asking them to send something down for them to colour Green. The gods heard their plea, and seeing this vibrant, beautiful colour, sent them something called Grass. This mystical object was beautiful, and rare. They say it was so beautiful that to see it would render one blind from the beauty. Humans soon found a problem with this though. If looking upon Grass, how would they see their colour Green? They grew mighty with rage, angry that their gods had given them this object that robbed them of their creation. They went to war with their gods, blind in their rage to the power their gods truly had.
“The war raged for centuries, and while the gods aged Humans birthed new generations, stronger and mightier than the last, and with an even greater fury than their mothers and fathers. With this new strength and fury the children Humans fought tooth and claw with the weakening gods, and eventually the gods were defeated. Embarrassed at the defeat they had suffered, Humans’ gods retreated, allowing the Grass to be seen without blindness. It was then with fresh eyes Humans gazed upon Grass, and the colour Green. But when they stared at it, they saw nothing. Reaching out they checked that yes, they could indeed touch Grass but… it was not there to be seen. It was then Humans realized that their gods had not been truly defeated, but instead they had by trickery! The gods took away the ability to see Green from Humans, as punishment for going to war with their gods for their own selfish goals. That’s why we cannot see the colour Green.”

Today however, I know the story was false, for I see green grass.

[[EXPLICIT. contains SWEARING and SUGGESTIVE THEMES.]]

The night was fading away swiftly; something Saiko hated every single day. The night was her escape, a land where nobody could see her and what she did. With a snarl she stubbed out her cigarette, exhaling her last breath of the sweet, sweet smoke. That was something everybody always had a piece of advice to give to her about. ‘Smoking is bad for you; it’ll rot your teeth.’ ‘You’ll get lung cancer!’ ‘Yer never gon’ get any tail if you always smokin’ that foul shit.’ that was what they all said. But hey, she was getting plenty of ‘tail’ and had perfect teeth. Well, as perfect as a smoker could have.

The skies were now grey, tinged with small streaks of gold as the sun strove to rise like it did each day. Saiko rummaged in her pockets, pulling out a crumpled packet and a lighter, swiftly taking out a cigarette and lighting it to replace the previous one. Cold violet eyes narrowed, something they almost always were doing, as she gazed down the street of the city which was so famed for being a ‘perfect, crime-free’ place. Well that was bullshit; nobody reported the god damned crime that’s why it was ‘crime-free’. And why didn’t they report the crimes? Because the exact same people causing the crimes to start with would hunt then down and tear their throats out. That was what the kind ones did anyway. As the seconds crept by and the sun rose higher and higher Saiko scowled, her breath exhaling a mixture of smoke and frosty air in the winter morning. Tugging at her trench coat slightly she strode off down the main street, having decided that she wasn’t in the mood to see the cheery folk greeting her a good morning. Big surprise there.

Varsalle was a shit place. The kind of place that would never get you anywhere. That’s what Saiko’s closest friend had said before she moved there. Why? Well because the crime there was easy. Getting in with the thieves and the murderers was like breathing and becoming top of the pack? Well that was easy too, just murder the pack leader. None of them really guarded themselves that well, incompetent cocky assholes as they all were. Each one killed their predecessor, claiming in their mind that they would be different. That they would never be murdered and betrayed just like they had done. But that’s what Varsalle crime was like. Sneaky, filthy habits led to sneaky, filthy murders.
“Ahh Trin. If only you could see me now, sneaking around in the night being the filth you had warned me about. Should ‘ave listened to you mate… should ‘ave listened.” She muttered, her voice thick and cracked, mostly from the smoke that practically lived in her lungs. Taking a long drag from the cheap cigarette she turned down an alley way, glancing about before she bolted down and into the labyrinth that she had entered. She knew exactly where to go, after all, she had been following this path for nine years to get to her damn house. Well, her flat. There was no such thing as a house in Varsalle, hell there were barely houses in the ‘outlying’ towns. These days towns were just slightly shorter cities. The whole planet was industrialized, jungles, forests, all those wild things, they only existed in captivity. And nobody ever went there, even the creatures failed to thrive in them. The trees were cared for by the people employed by the government, solely so that they could keep up an adequate amount of oxygen for the people of Lark to breathe. Lark… ah, that name had been given to the planet in such hopes, that the vivid, fertile planet wouldn’t become like the grey concreted planet Earth and Korvin were. Seems it was sentient nature to corrupt and overtake what they’re given.

Saiko came to a halt, staring at a brick wall that had been painted black. There were graffiti tags all over it, including many crude messages and of course, death threats. After all, Saiko was on the second rung of Varsalle’s crime ladder.
“Little shits I just painted this two days ago! I’m gonna rip their fucking guts out and feed it to ‘em.” Saiko snarled, her lips curling back to reveal serrated fangs. Walking to one side she moved a few trash cans, shoving a lever up into the wall before moving the bins back into place. As the lever clicked into the wall there was the sound of many mechanical pieces whirring and clicking into place. After a few moments of irritated waiting, Saiko found herself staring into a hole in the wall. Stepping in she pushed her hand into a small screen on the right wall, tapping her foot impatiently as a green light flickered up and down, scanning in her pads. A tiny green light flicked on, and more mechanical whirring started. This time Saiko could see the wall breaking apart and shifting in front of her, hiding the process like the outside door did cost way too much money in this screwed over society to bother with. Hell she was lucky she had the padprint access to her flat, that has cost someone quite a pretty face. Striding inside in somewhat of a huff she threw her satchel to the floor with a grunt, not even noticing nor caring where it landed. Inside was a small room, crammed with well… a whole assortment of shall we say, not nice things. If you get my drift. Saiko seemed to wade amongst the furniture and other assorted items, grabbing a long cigarette holder as well as a box of matches. Moving over to a shelf on one of the walls, she tapped her lip with a clawed finger as she stared at the assortment of cigarettes. Reaching out she pulled down a blue packet and turned to deposit her handful of smoking items onto a small kitchen counter.
“Stupid government releasing details about my bloody smoking habits to the public. Now I can’t smoke properly in public anymore. Fuckers.” Her muttering words descended into simply incoherent sounds, mostly filled with a quiet, grunting rage. Pulling out a cigarette she placed it into the holder, placing it into her mouth while she took out a match and struck it on the edge of her boot. Carefully lighting the cigarette she took a drag from it, taking her previous one out of her mouth and putting it out on the counter. She then dropped it amongst a pile of cigarettes, though let’s be honest, the whole flat could be considered a pile of cigarettes the way they littered the place. She turned, picking up a small pistol and opening it, checking to see if the bullets were still loaded. They were of course, nobody entered this flat except for her, but nervous habits stayed with one for a lifetime when they saved your life. Saiko had seen too many people point a gun and have it simple click when they tried to fire, having had the bullets removed by someone else while they weren’t looking.

Walking into the miniscule kitchen she squeezed past a tower of papers, careful not to knock them over and create more mess in the cluttered apartment. Placing the pistol on the counter she crouched down and opened a cupboard. Rummaging around inside, she eventually pulling out a pot and a bowl. Standing up she reached over a pile of disks and grabbed a packet of noodles, quickly emptying the contents into the pot and filling it with water. Lighting the single burner beside the sink she put the pot down, resting the lid on top to half cover it. Sighing she leant back against the counter, her eyes closing as she tapped a rhythm out on the bench with her claws.

[[I sincerely apologize for the bullocks you are about to read, no backspace is well… hard.

Also, CONTAINS CURSING.]]

The night was fading away swiftly, something Saiko ahated every single day. The night was her escape, a land where nobody could see hoer and what she did. WIth a scarl she stubbed out her cigarette, exhaling her last breath of the swee,tt, sweet smoke. That was something everybody always had a piece of advice to give to her about. ” ‘smoking is bad for you, it’l rot your teeth.’ ‘You’ll get lung cancer!’ ‘yr er YER never gon’ get any tail isf you always smokin that foul filth.’ that was what they all said. But hey, she was getting plenty of ‘tail’ and had perfect teteth. Well , as perfect as a smoker could have.



The skies were grey, tinged with small streaks of gold as the sun strove to rise like it did each day. A faint breeze ruffled her fur, eyes narrowed in her bad sentence. A Saiko rumaged hin her pockets, pulling out a crumpled packet and a lighter, selecting a cigarette and lighting it to replace the previous one. S NO BACKSPACE IS HARD. Cold iviolet eyes narrowed, something they almost always were doing, as she gazed down the street of the city which was so famed for being a ‘percfect, crime-free ’ place. Well that was bullshit, nobody reported the god damned crime that’s why it was ‘crime-free’. And why didn’t rethey report the crimes ? Because the exact same people causing the crimes to start with, would hunt thenm down and tear their throats out. I A That was the nice ones too. As the second screeped by and the sun rsose higher and higher Saioko scowled, her breathe exhaling a mixture of smoke and frosty air in the iwinter morning. Tugging at her trenchcoat slightly she strode off down the main street, having decided that she wasn’t in the mood to see the cheerlyy folk greeting her a good morning. Big surprise there.



Varsalle was a shit place. The kind of place that would never get you anywhere. That’s what Saiko’s closest friend had said before she moved there. Why? Well because the crime there was easy. Getting in with the thieves and the murderers was like breathing, and becoming top of the pack? Well that was easy too, bjust bmurder the pack leader. None of them really guarded themselves that well, incompetent cocky assholes as thyey all were. Each one killed their predecessor, claiming in their mind that they would be different. That they would never be murdered and betrayed just like they had done. But that’s what Varsalle crime was like. Sneaky, filthy habits led to snekaaky, filthy murders. “O

“Ahh Trin. If only you could see mye now, sneaking around in the night being the filth you had wanrne d me about. Should ‘ave listened to you mate… should have listened.” She muttered, her voice thick and choked, mostly cfrom the smoke that exited her mouth with every word. Taking a long drag from the cheap dcigarette she turned down an alley way, glancing about before she bolted down and into the labryinth that she had entere.d . She knew ecactyl where to go, after allm , she had been following this path for nine years to get to her damn house. Well, her flat. There was no such lthing as a house in Varsalle , hell there were barely houses in the ‘outlying’ dtonwns. These days towns were just slightly shorter cities. The whole planet was industrialized, jungles, forests, all those wild things, ovnl y existed in captivity. W And nobody ever whent there, even the creatures failed to thrive there. The trees were caered for by the people employed by the government, soeley so that they could keep up an adequate amount of oxygen for the people of Lark to breathe. Lark… ah, that name had been given to the planet in such hopes, that the vivid, fertile planet wouldn’t become like the cgraey conrcreted ea planet Earth was. Seems to be human nature though.



Saiko came to a halt, staring at a brick wall that had been painted black . There was ta graffit i tags all over it, including many crude messages and of course, death threats. After all, Saiko was second in command in Varsalle’s crime ladder.

“Little shits I just paitnted this black two days ago! I’m gonna rip their fucking guts out and feed them to them,.” Saiko snarled, her fangs showing as her lips curled back. WAlking to one side she moved a few trash vcans, shovinga a leaver up into the wall before moving the tra the m back into place. As the lever clicked into the wall there was the sound of many mechanical piereces whirring and clicking into place, wh. After a mfew moments of impateient waiting, Saiko found herself staring into a hole in the wall. Striding inside in somewhat of a huff she threw her satchel to the floor with a grunt , not even noticing nor caring where it landed. Moving throughout the corridors of what tseemed to be a second labryinth she finally approached a door and mentered. Insdie was a small room, crammed wihth well… a whole assortment of shall we say, not nice things. If you get my drift. Saiko wad seemed to wade amongst the furniture and other addo assorted items, grabbing a long stick as well as a box of matches.

“Stupid government breleasing sdetails about my bloody smoking habits to the public. Now i can’t smoke properly ain public anymore. Fuckers.” Her muttering words descended into simply incoherrent sounds, mostly filled with a quiet , grunting rage.  Lighting the end of the elegant smokingdevce, she took a drag from it, putting out the cigarette on a counter top. Dropping the cigarette amongst a pile of cigarettes , though lets be onhonest, the whole flat wocould be considered a piele of cigarettes the way they littered the place. She turned, picking up a small pistol an d opening it, vchecking to see if the bullets were still loaded. They were of course, nobody entere this flat except for her, but nervous habits stayed with one for a lifetime when they saved oyour life. Saiko had seen too many peopke point a gun and have it simple flclick when they tried to fire, having had the bullets removed by someone else whyile they weren’t looking. Walking into the miniscule kitchen she squeezed past a tower of papers, careful not to knock them over and create more mess in the cluttered aparetment.