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Aleksei

[Halcyon] little lamb

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While in Renovatio to get something that belongs to her, Yonatan becomes side tracked to help the needy. Someone or something is starting fires in Nu Martyr, destroying what structures still stand and adding more to the body count caused by the plague. There's been talk that a wisp has been sighted around these fires, though there is uncertainty if there's truth or not behind these assumptions. A man is willing to speak, help Yonatan find him and get answers to stopping the fires. 
 
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[float=right]Yonatan1_zps47ab6468.png[/float] 
 
Yonatan felt the blood bubble up her throat and test her tongue, threatening that if it didn't move it will make the struggle worth the small life it has. She would have preferred the struggle, because the feeling of dying - falling, falling down - was enough to give her life again. The taste of her own blood is a foreign thing, something that she rarely has the delight of knowing on a good basis and a small piece of her actually wondered why it has taken her so long to enjoy a randomly simple pleasure. 
 
She lifts herself up into a sitting position, the blood from her throat finally trickling down the corners of her mouth. The world does a bit of a dance in front of her bruised eyes; the trees laugh at her and the clouds hang their heads at the sight of the broken doll. Not that she really cared right now, the last thing on her mind is her good appearance that won't get her out of the situation she is in now. Blinking away the madness of her fractured mind, the woman is able to see beyond the fog that she is in the same room, in the same building ravished with dead bodies and broken whispers. For that she gives a brief, thankful prayer. No one has thought to take advantage of a sleeping beauty. 
 
Torn hands rub at the corners of her mind, easing the ache before she tries to stand on two broken legs - or so it feels like. 
 
"Shhh~" Giving a bit of odd humor she hushes the bones scattered next to her. 
 
How many days has she been in Renovatio? Three? A week? Two weeks? If two weeks, she is a world of trouble. She had promised the crew that two weeks was the longest she was going to stay home, because at the time that was all she really needed to rightfully acquire her property. Her expectations had been cut to shreds once she stepped foot onto promise land. The once glorious hue of pride and strength that drowns the hills and treetops, is now a black mass hanging high above their heads. 
 
The old woman told her not to go, that things have been declining for the last month or so. Something about a sickness and the loss of their Grand Kommandant ... a flash of white blinds her, she slams her back against a welcoming wall. The last is something she won't accept until she sees the proof for herself. Just she had to see someone before going to the castle. Merida can always wait and upon her arrival she will bless Yonatan with a smile, something the two women share in common. In her denial she knew that whatever has ruined Renovatio will go away, like the war, it will just go away and never bother them again.
 
Blood pours beyond the fabric wrapped around her tiny thigh. The warmth makes her look down in a bit of interest, further kicking up the dust of her lacking memory. The fight had only lasted a few minutes before she got knocked out, apparently stabbed repeatedly, and beaten to a pulp. None of it really mattered though, she will die over less and the wounds will heal over time. 
 
Her tiny right hand presses against her chest, right where one would usually feel their heart beating. It has always been an empty part of her, not having a heart really hadn't bothered her at all because the deal had been made to keep him alive. So the loss wasn't much of one. Yet through all her suffering and getting over the pain, she feels that she at least deserves to have it back. All the sins have been paid for, all these years she has lived with her decision and lived every day learning her lesson. Apparently she just isn't ready to have it back yet. When she first stepped into the apartment the attack happened, almost as if they knew she was coming with demands. 
 
"So close."
 
Now she's alone to nurse a bleeding wound, a broken arm, and fragile pride. Outside the broken building is a ruined place.
 
Slowly she begins to walk down the steps with her arm thrown across her chest to ease the ache of the broken bone. A few shock waves force her to take refuge against the wall while the steps underneath her booted feet tremble. Renovatio is surely crumbling without the support of their Overlord - who is only gone from the eyes, not from the mind. Someone must have taken her away, severing the link she has with her home and people, which has caused their land to be thrust into turmoil. The sickness is spreading, and slowly they are starting to float down to the earth beneath them. 
Edited by Aleksei

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"Is she alive?"
 
"How am I supposed to know? I'm no doctor."
 
"Well, poke her or something."
 
"You poke her!"
 
Yonatan listens in on the conversation with eyes closed and a quivering mouth. The children have been fighting over what to do with her for at least five minutes, neither one coming to a solution they both agree upon. Why they fuss, she has no clue. Perhaps she is blocking their way upstairs, though she isn't very sure that it's safe to go up there and she doubts there's anything left. She had slipped and fallen down the stairs, passing out from the pain and exhaustion flowing through her veins. Again she loses hours, not at all sure how long she has hung around the stairs. 
 
"Look, she's moving!" 
 
"Stand back!"
 
The woman slowly opens up a bruised eye to get a look at her audience. Two children at least ten or so, one girl and one boy, maybe brother and sister since they do seem to share a few things in common. They look at her in wonder and fear, not exactly sure if she's really alive or just another rising corpse, even if she were a walking dead why would they stare at her so and not run? 
 
"It's okay ... I fell." Dirt coats her throat.
 
"She can talk!"
 
"Because she's not dead, stupid."
 
She forces herself up once again in a sitting position, a stair catching her body while she struggles to really feel comfortable. Everything previously broken is still broken, nothing new so she has nothing new to really worry about. Just how long she has been out and how long she's been gone are about the only two things she can really care to know right now. Not wanting to make their little minds too eager by asking them questions, Yonatan stares at them while all three take a moment to really get to know their company. Their clothes are filthy, just like their precious faces, but she can tell that they are high born by their thick accent. And their eyes. Large, bright with pride and the proper upbringing, they stand up to anything in their way. 
 
"Are you two alright?"
 
They look at her still, sizing her up and for a moment she reaches to touch her hip, thinking that maybe she should at least protect herself if these two wish to get a little frisky. Somewhere in her mind she had a knife there, maybe it got lost during the scuffle. 
 
"What are you doing in here?"
 
"The mean man left, so we wanted to see if he had any food left." The girl was ready to talk, even though her brother gave her a disapproving look.
 
"He doesn't. It's not really safe to go up there anyways." The woman smiles, trying to soften the air a bit.
 
"What are you doing here?" He speaks! With some sauce slathered atop his words.
 
"I was visiting the mean man. Shouldn't you two be at a shelter?" She tries to avoid the question, not at all wanting to go into details about the visit. Instead she tries to focus the world on them.
 
"The last two were burned down." 
 
"Oh? The plague I am assuming?" Families began to burn their loved ones, fearing they may rise.
 
"No, something else."
 
The way the little girl spoke made Yoni want to comfort her, but she doesn't want to give these two any sense of hope when it came to her company. They're already giving her looks of desperation, their need to tell their story obviously clear by the way they lean in close, making sure there is little air between them to make sure she has to eat their words. She fights with what she knows is right and what is right - they need help and she's pretty much the only one there to give it to them. But she can't let them cling to her as if she has all the answers to their problems, she is there to settle an aching pain and they're just in her way to that success. 
 
"What's that something?" Inwardly she curses herself.
 
"A monster!"
 
"A wisp!"
 
A ship! She holds back from saying the last, only giving a small nod to show she is listening to them. 
 
"Where is the next shelter?"
 
"On the other side of the city."
 
"... I'll take you there." What other choice is there? Leave them here and let them get eaten or die or whatever else horrible, making her feel guilty. 
 
She might as well make her death an adventurous one. 

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[float=right]Yonatan1_zps47ab6468.png[/float]
 
"Where are we?"
 
"My apartment."
 
Her tone holds the same amount of excitement and awe as their own. She didn't expect to see her usual home away from home still together, though it's obvious that it is hanging on by a wish and a few prayers. Maybe it always looks this way though, as she hardly ever came here, only on times to do a little reflecting and a change of clothing. You'd think she would remember the way the land made the building lean off to the side, almost like it's trying to peek over everyone else. Then there's the large shape of the windows, why were they so intricate and why would she happily be so exposed? Slowly she touches the face of the nearest window, the glass smooth and cold against her warm touch - a fever? Impossible. 
 
Tapping the glass, she thinks a bit. It would be easy to just go through the front door, but how much noise would that be? The two children have been willing to keep quiet, their discipline to show respect for their elders has helped them today, and her. Yonatan loves children, she hates disobedience. 
 
"Will you have food?"
 
"Yes."
 
Years of being a ucissore on the go has taught her to properly prepare your food stuffs for whatever catastrophe is thrown your way.
 
Yes, the building has always leaned that way and the windows were to help her see. Rubbing the cut on the back of her head, the woman looks around the ground to see if any more of her memories had dropped out around her. She slowly begins to remember the reasons and the memories locked away in her four walls. They should be fine for the night here, giving her some time to think through her random mission. 
 
She turns her head off to the right, a hint of smoke wafting her way, carried by an easy breeze. Those fires. Tonight they'll be safe, tomorrow they have no choice but to move, no matter what her plan may be. From her point of view she can tell that those flames are moving towards them, with no one to put them out they are destroying whatever dares stand against them. 
 
"Alright, hop on."
 
The two look skeptical. Yoni can't blame them, she's about the same height as they are and maybe just as small. Right now isn't the time to hesitate though.
 
"You on my back and you on my front. So hop on."
 
Lowering herself to one knee, she waits for them to follow her orders. A glance of uncertainty is lazily thrown between them, not wanting to argue the strength the woman has but not wanting to die for trusting her. Yonatan simply waits, jaw tight, teeth clenched against the pain in her thigh and her broken arm, which is wrapped closely to her chest. 
 
"Okay."
 
The girls wraps her arms around the woman's neck, her brother doing the same on the other side. She has to take a moment to balance their weight on her worn body, knowing that she could have just slipped through the shadows to bring them to the roof, but she fears that all her energy will be depleted. They're now counting on her to take them to safety, they need her alive for at least a few more days and if she does die, she'll die knowing that they're going to live thanks to her help. With all that in made her decision to take the hard road is worth it. Climbing this building is just a bump in the road, a very long road covered in ash and flames, leading them to hell before salvation. 
 
"Don't move." 
 
She releases her broken arm from the restrains, by doing so a wave of black streaks across her sight. Fingers curl, so they're still useful, maybe not so much afterwards but she has very little to work with right now. On the instant she stands to her full height, she leaps at the building. Their weight crushes the air from her lungs, causing her to close her eyes as tears of pain threaten to escape - no weakness, not now. The climb is a long one, only a few times had she lost her footing and those few times she was able to quickly recover and get some speed. 
 
Once they reach the top she throws her body over the edge, landing gently on her side to make sure her passengers are kept unhurt. The two scurry off her, their eyes looking at her with adoration and absolute love. It makes her smile, because she doesn't feel all that wonderful and great right about now. Just a dog nursing fresh and old wounds on the dirt. 

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[float=right]Yonatan1_zps47ab6468.png[/float]
 
"Why were you looking for the mean man for?"
 
Yonatan takes her time answering this question, going over various alternatives to shift the conversation to something that really matters. The bandages between her teeth helps the silence grow between her and the little girl. A poor attempt at wrapping her arm close to her torso, but it'll have to do until she can find the shelter and at least this way the pain isn't so bad. Satisfied with her amazing work she begins wrapping her thigh, noticing that the bleeding has begun working again, creating a dark waterfall of dark red down her lean leg. 
 
"He took something from me that I wanted back."
 
"What was it?"
 
She looks over at the boy with a piece of dry meat dangling from his mouth. Even though they have been near starving, the two have come to appreciate the ways of survival, taking only enough to stay alive and leaving the rest when death is near. She had made it clear that she doesn't care how much they eat or drink, that there's more than enough for them to live on and she has no problem hunting down some more.
 
"Nothing too fantastic to be honest. Enough of that though, tell me more about the fires."
 
Or how come the sky appears blue, or maybe how they came to be, where are they from, all that stuff?
 
The day she got enough strength to travel back home was the beginning of lost feelings. Underneath all that dirt and sunshine she had buried bones of her past, knowing that they are always there but never caring to pick them up. When she was picked up and drawn to her feet, she decided to never mourn the loss of that someone because life is too good to give up on, and she has many things to live for. Be it to taste the best cakes ever made, to make her friends smile, or be a companion to those in need, her life is worth living. Those feelings still hurt, though. The unnerving way they make you feel as if you're slowly sinking in quicksand, unable to do anything to save yourself. 
 
"We heard an old man talking about seeing a wisp around the fires."
 
"A little odd for that, but not too unusual. Did he say why?"
 
"I don't know, we were rushed into a car before he got to finish."
 
Her intentions are torn. It's already hard enough to travel around this place without being attacked by undead, the last thing she needs is to deal with hauty wisps. Find the man, figure out what's going on, then deal with the problem so she can get these two out of her net. She'll then have time to heal in peace before tracking down the mean man. Tonight she'll leave the two alone to lurk in the shadows, because if anything she is wonderful at pressing her ear to the ground. 
 
"I guess I'll have to find this man then." A sigh escapes her.
 
"You can't go out there alone!"
 
She takes a moment to examine the man face on the young boy. It's always such a wonderful feeling to know that at least someone is worried about your well being. She doesn't care if it's because she is their only salvation, at least he appreciates her. 
 
"I can't die just yet! I have you two to consider, besides I'll have you know I was trained by one of the best ucissore to ever live!" Cheer them up.
 
"Really?! The Lion herself?!"
 
"Yes! I can guarantee you both that I am well equipped for such situations as this and it's my duty to protect my home. I will find this man and restore order, as we ucissore are meant to do."
 
In all the excitement she is starting to believe herself. 

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Suddenly, the windows of the building begin to rattle. A hum as deep as the depths of the sky can be felt in the bones and in the teeth. Any citizen of Renovatio would know that sound/sensation. The unmistakable thrum of mana-powered impellers. There was an airship nearby, and from the depth of the rumble in the walls, it was right above the building.

 

Captain Sinestro Platt stood on the railing, gripping tight to the starboard rigging lines as he leaned over, peering down at the ruined city below. Billows of smoke drifted past the sleek hull of The Uccisore’s Kiss. The airship was packed to the gills with refugees. They had already filled the hold, after emptying it of most of their cargo. A decision that would cost Sinestro later, no doubt. A crew never liked dumping their cargo, least of all a pirate crew. The ill-gotten gains they’d tossed over the railing was their pay for the month.

 

It had taken some convincing, but in the end, the screams of women and children from below had given his crew the last push they needed to pick humanity over wealth. They weren’t happy about it, but as soon as they’d started picking up sooty faced children, his crew had stopped their bellyaching.

 

“Lower you cracked-headed cloud seals!” he bellowed. The building they hovered over was still 20 feet below their keel. They needed at least another 10 to be able to lower a ladder to load more refugees. That is, if there was anyone still alive down there...

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[float=right]Yonatan1_zps47ab6468.png[/float]
 
Unable to really fight against what her body needs, Yonatan had slept peacefully for a few hours, only to wake up to the children huddling close to her. The warmth was a comforting feeling, something a little different when sexual desires are not involved, just pure love and admiration. Not wanting to disrupt them she sat in silence, looking around her beaten down apartment with a gaze akin to boredom. She had never put much worth into the small room. Very little speaks about her personality and the lack of pictures tell a story about the kind of person she is. 
 
They woke up with a handful of questions that make her mind spin. Is this what it feels like to casually speak to a person? Besides the members of the Valiant, she hardly speaks to anyone if they're not willing to pay the right coin for her words - and body. So when the two feed off one another, tempting that little lull of peace to ask her what her life is life, where she really comes from, and how she knows Leoa, she freezes. 
 
"How old are you?"
 
"Very old."
 
"I was asking for a number."
 
"I know."
 
They didn't have time to really carry on their idle attempt to start a conversation. So far she has done a wonderful job to keep her intentions hidden, but children are curious creatures and they know more tricks than her to get a person to speak. They just look at her with those large eyes ... her words the only food they care to eat. 
 
"Twenty-five."
 
"You're not old at all!"
 
She'd beg to differ, but keeps silent. Maybe not old when it comes to age, she's just absurdly tired. What she'd do for a comfortable bed and actual food right now - what all three of them would do. 
 
"Are you really going out there alone?"
 
"Of course I am." His concern touches her.
 
"But what if you don't come back?"
 
"Then you follow my instructions that I'll leave behind."
 
She hopes they're able to read her tangled mess of a note. Quickly she had wrote down every hiding place, every shelter, and every name for them to run to. There is no real guarantee that they'll live that far or if those shelters are still standing, but at least they have a resource. It's always a comforting to know that you are being guided by the right hand, even if it's to the bottom of a black pit. 
 
"What's that?!"
 
Yoni rushes to her feet the instant the windows began to rattle. She had assumed it was another earthquake and where they're all leaning up against an already fragile wall, she wants to get them across the room to safety. Once her mind accepts her panic, washing her nerves with the cooling touch of calm, she knows that it is not an earthquake but something else. Putting a finger to her lips she silences the children, their faces ruined with fear, the sight making her heart melt. They have put all their hopes and dreams atop her broken shoulders, so now it's up to her to let them know it's all for the right reasons. 
 
Waving them to come close, the group makes a very steady path towards the roof once more. She goes first to make sure that it's not an eager enemy taking the opportunity to wreak havoc against an already fragile situation. 
 
The gust of the airship teased her hair and worn smile to something genuine, full of absolute relief. 
 
"It looks like your rescue is here."
 
She speaks to the two children, yet they don't seem nearly as excited as her. 

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“Ho there!” Sin yelled as soon as the woman and the two children appeared on the roof. “If there are more in the building, tell them to get their asses up here because this is our last stop!” His voice was rough and deep above the sound of the impellers. The moving air tossed his ebony locks like an unruly tide, occasionally obscuring a handsome, if scarred, face.

 

A first glance might make a refugee consider taking their chances on the street. Despite being handsome and presenting a dashing figure hanging from the railing, Sinestro was also clearly a man of violence. He was armed to the teeth. Swords, daggers, pistols, and a long-barreled rifle slung across his back. His clothing was black, and over it he wore hardened leather armor inscribed with runes of protection. His belt shimmered in the smoky sunlight, giving off the distinct vibrations of a SlowFall device.

 

The ship itself did nothing to give the impression that humanitarian aid was its primary purpose. It too was bristling with weaponry, and the few members of the crew visible from the rooftop had the hard-edged appearance of pirates.

 

As the ship hummed to a stop, a ladder was thrown down and thumped onto the roof.

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[float=right]Yonatan1_zps47ab6468.png[/float]
 
"Are you going to come with us?"
 
"No, I have to stop the fires. Remember? I made a promise."
 
Though the sight of the handsome man hanging over the edge of his ship was temptiing enough to change her mind. How willing was she lay down without him paying up first? Well, there isn't enough time to really tell since he has marked this moment with a bit of urgency. Removing her little thoughts to a dark corner of her mind, the woman reaches down with her free hand to pat the two children on the head. They may have been a bump in the road, in the end they proved to be resourceful and a calm to her raging seas. She wishes them nothing but wonders for the rest of their lives, and hopefully she'll be able to save their home. 
 
The little girl grabbed Yonatan's hand, squeezing her fingers till they almost turn to dust. Smiling, she wiggles her fingers out of the hard hold to usher the girl up the ladder, watching until she disappears over the edge of the ship. There her eyes linger for a bit, wanting to make sure that she wasn't randomly ambushed or harmed by the brutish men glancing their way. Tough men with hearts fashioned from the finest gold to ever bless Valucre. Maybe later on she'll give a proper thanks, but for now she has only has enough strength to wave up at them. 
 
"Now you!" She was about to help him up the ladder, but the boy evades her hold. 
 
"I don't want to go."
 
"You have to go."
 
"But what about you?"
 
"What about your sister?"
 
She hit a nerve. His face was a mixture of uncertainty and raw pride, not knowing what option would be the best choice to pick. A squeeze to his shoulder made up his mind, nodding he began to climb up the ladder, taking his time to glance over his shoulder every once in awhile. Yonatan would have reassured them that it wouldn't be the last time they see her, but she has made enough promises today and they were heavy enough. With the two of them now out of harms way she can operate a little better.
 
It's a little bit lonely being on the roof by herself. It's necessary though. 

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Sin tried his best to offer a friendly smile to the children as they climbed aboard, but he could tell by the way their faces blanched that he’d failed miserably. A scar bisected his lips on the left side, and it always made his smile a gruesome thing to behold, no matter how warmly he meant it. The crew paid no attention to the children, other than to nudge them toward the hold where the other refugees could look after them.

 

Satisfied that they were taken care of, Sin turned back toward the rooftop. “Now your turn lady! Come on, we ain’t got all day to float here…”

Edited by bridgeburner

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[float=right]Yonatan1_zps47ab6468.png[/float]
 
The brother and sister squeeze in between the rest of the refugees. They were not at all happy about the decision to leave Yonatan, even knowing that it is for the best, that she can't do much with them hanging around, yet they would have liked to be part of her adventures into the flames. What if she can't find the man? How will she know where he's at, what to look for? 
 
"Go ahead and leave!"
 
She gave him a flick of her wrist, attempting to move the winds to shift the ship away, but she has no such power. The children were more important than she, this is nothing compared to most missions and she is a willing participant when it came to dancing with death. The dull ache in her arm made it so she stayed aware of her surroundings, and the wound on her thigh was enough to keep her moving. Besides, all this will only lead up to new scars, the very beginnings of wonderful stories. 
 
Before entering the building again, she takes a moment to better examine the smokey horizon. Just along their borders she can see small spots of fire trickling from one place to another. An odd way to make a point, if it were a person really making these fires and not a wisp. Perhaps it's just a story to cover up someone with a very hateful agenda to continuously ruin their home. For what reason though? A constant question plaguing her thoughts. Going this far meant that feelings were hurt and pride was slashed, the event so traumatizing it brought on a fit of the most hateful of rages. Hopefully she will meet this person, if they exist. It'll be a wonderful pleasure to beat them to a pulp.
 
Bright eyes give the ship one more look as it hooks itself on the edge of a cloud. It screamed pirate in every way, from the way it dripped with weaponry to the large men stomping around it, their looks ranging from the rather handsome to the extremely questionable. Amusing to see them ushering the helpless around, their actions mechanical, stiff to the point it actually hurt to watch them. These men are not made to be soft and fresh as flowers, seeing them trying to be kind almost makes her laugh. 
 
Shaking her head, Yonatan enters the building, disappearing from view.

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Confusion passes across Sin’s face, quickly chased away by anger and annoyance. “Ambros!” He yells, turning toward his first mate at the helm. “Take the Kiss to the nearest shelter and start unloading the refugees, then swing back around and find my locator.” Ambros opened his mouth, likely to ask “what the fuck?”, but before any insubordinate words could leave his mouth, Sinester let go of the rigging and stepped off the edge of the ship.

 

Wind rushed past his face for a few seconds before the SlowFall took over and slowed his descent enough that he could step lightly onto the roof. He looked up, to make sure Ambros was following orders. Sure enough, the ladder was retracting even as the Kiss slid gracefully into the sky, turning even as it picked up speed.

 

Sin checked his weapons, making sure knives, sword and pistol were all loose in their holsters, before heading down into the building to catch up with the woman. She hadn’t gone far, and he saw her as he turned the corner. “I didn’t just spend the last two hours of my busy life picking up refugees to leave a half-crippled woman on the ground to get eaten. What are you playing at?”

Edited by bridgeburner

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[float=right]Yonatan1_zps47ab6468.png[/float]
 
"I didn't get half crippled for nothing."
 
Yonatan was so close to getting to her apartment, there she'd have a few minutes to sleep and maybe she'd even indulge by eating. She has always made a show about her love for sweet things, warm teas, and the ever wonderful hot chocolate which she constantly drinks. Though she can't remember the last time she could actually taste all those things - what does cake even taste like any more? What does sweet actually mean? Somewhere in her mind she had built up a picture to compare to the tastes she had lost many years ago.
 
Her wounds beg for a little bit of rest, asking her to sit down by forcing little shocks of pain to run from her head to her toes. Sleeping was a necessary process if she plans on running around through fires with a broken arm, a very unfortunate loss of a limb. 
 
"Those children asked me to help them. I plan on keeping my promise."
 
She was able to see his scars and handsome face a little closer now, her eyes taking a moment to better the picture she is slowly building inside her sultry head. If he was going to chastise her, then so be, but he could at least put a little pep in his step so she can get to business. Or at least follow her, since she had taken a minute to explain her purpose before turning on the heel of her boot to continue her descent down the stairs. Crippled woman - ba! She could kill him with her mind if she wasn't so fuzzy on the details. 
 
"What's a pirate doing saving people?"
 
Yoni looks over her shoulder, throwing him a glance filled with question and slight concern. He better not be planning on selling the children and adults for labor somewhere, or else face her wrath. She has dealt with slavers before, they come in many shapes and sizes, and he fits a certain mold. Bad on her though, for assuming, judging his character on a simple evaluation she deemed worthy enough to sway her thoughts. By appearance she didn't look very capable of much, her pointed tongue really the only sharp weapon on her body, her mood dark enough to drown the least capable. 
 
The tiny woman lingers in front of the door to her apartment, waiting for him to give her an answer she can trust. 

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If asked, he couldn't tell you why he was here. For all he knew, this place was as empty and vacant of souls as the last twenty he'd checked. He couldn't even tell you what had brought him back to this area to begin with.

Nostalgia?

But nostalgia for what? Some lost, forgotten and abandoned city he called home once? Maybe some kind of displaced guilt or linger of responsibility and duty to the place he used to reside? Standing in some abandoned apartment wasn't doing him much good now; he had no idea whose aparment it was, and they definitely weren't here anymore, hell even his own apartment was demolished.

And still something drew him back. Lost souls he was intended to rescue, perhaps? But it'd been so long since he left that particular life behind and had moved on to... different things. He couldn't tell you why he'd given up his previous existence and had settled for something far more meaningless and unfulfilling as a business venture when compared to the things he used to do... but, alas.

He's wasting time in this apartment and wasting himself. He might be stalling. But for what reason? There is no one here to rescue, and nothing to be found to take with him as some form of keepsake, just as there had been nothing in any of the other places he'd checked.

"Hrm... nice little apartment though, I suppose, for what's left. And still in pretty good condition, considering."

Ah well. Nothing left here but the stale air that clung to the pieces of furniture and past lives that would continue to lurk until destroyed out of existance once and for all. Burned to a crisp in the fires, crushed against the ground upon the fall. Either way, it'd be all laid to waste.

Snatching a random little tea cup from where it'd been left to dry once upon a dream whenever it had last been washed, his eyes caught glimpse of a picture frame tacked on the nearby wall. A cute little thing, the woman in the picture, the frame cracking in places around the edges from neglect and dust and ash from surrounding infernos laying siege to the glass and intricate design of the frame. He used his thumb to smear away the layer of ash that had betrayed the woman in the photograph by attempting to hide away her attractive features.

The pretty woman in the picture smiled grandly for the camera and for whoever was taking the photo, guaranteed much happier then than she probably was now, wherever the poor soul was. She was dazzling, truthfully, and she showcased a small tea cup in the palm of her hand and seemed to be in preparation to sip from it, though she'd obviously been distracted by the presence of the camera and opted for a flashbulb moment in time and life.

Beautiful. But then again, he'd always liked the meaning behind photographs. He wasn't too surprised to see the tea cup in the photo was similar - if not part of the same set, or perhaps the same exact - as he held.

"Well, then. Here's to you, ma'am." Lifting the tea cup from where it'd been balanced in his palm, he raised the cup towards the picture frame on the wall and motioned it at the woman. "Cheers."

Closing his fingers around the little cup once more, he turned away from the wall that held the picture - that would always hold the picture until at some point in the near future a fire raged within and brought it collapsing down just like everything else - and casually strode from the opened apartment door and out into the hall.

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“I’m a thief, not a murderer. Unless I’m murdering my competition that is…”

 

Sin picks up his pace so he can catch up with her, finally stopping a few feet away as she stops in front of the door to her apartment. Despite stopping his legs, Sinestro doesn’t stop moving completely. He settles into an alert stance, as if ready to bounce in any direction at a moments notice. One gloved hand falls onto the handle of the pistol strapped to his hip.

 

“What exactly are you planning on doing down here by yourself in your condition? You look like you’re ready to fall over and the streets are full of--”

 

At that moment, the door behind Yona began to open. In a blur of practiced, prepared motion, Sin had his hand around the handle of his gun and the gun out of its holster. He didn’t fire. He had better instincts than that, but the barrel was aimed at head height and his finger was on the trigger, should the person on the other side of the door turn out to be the unfriendly sort.

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[float=right]Yonatan1_zps47ab6468.png[/float]
 
It was the only thing she made herself keep. It had been a tough thing to throw his clothing away, to forget what he smelled like, and the way he said her name with so much that it made her heart melt. He talked to her, sang prettily in her ear when they danced, he considered her something more. But there are only perfect love stories in the mind of broken men and women, she was just willing enough to cross that road of broken dreams and hopes, bleeding for a better tomorrow. 
 
The teacup had been a present. When they first met he had paid her to have lunch with him and then of course a night full of created passion - since that is her job and all. The cup was to mark the beginning of a fruitless love. He wasn't the first to claim their rights to her, constantly paying to be in her warm company, if only to speak and share lunch. No one ever expects such things to go beyond that border, to take that first step over the prearranged line drawn in the sand. Too much of a good thing and they both paid very dearly for it. Though, who is paying the most? Who has spilled the most blood and tears? How much more do they have to live on their knees before they can be forgiven? 
 
Slender brows push together, the air in her lungs completely lost as she struggles against the waves of emotions long lost. 
 
"Sorry ... the dust."
 
Yonatan gives the Pirate an explanation for her sudden struggle. She parts from the door to slam her back against the wall right next to her, finding comfort in the support and familiarity. This isn't happening - this can't happen! With her brief action, tears form and fall down her dirty face, tracing the trembling of her usually stiff jaw. Dizzy, feeling like she's drowning under the weight of her past  mistakes, the inability to love her imperfections, even though she has accepted her torn life. 
 
Casually he steps into the hallway, suffocating Yonatan in his presence. Leaning forward she puts her hands on her bent knees, gulping at the air. Lifting one hand she waves at the Pirate to lower his weapon. The woman keeps her gaze down to the floor, tears dripping while her breathing begins to calm itself to a reasonable rise and fall. Absolute pain and agony, of all days this has to be the situation. Running away isn't such a bad option right about now, but she knows that ghosts can follow you anywhere. 

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