Timestamp: Fall 14, 514 Location: Sunset Quarters Time: 13th Bell, Midday Syna was high in the sky as the ebony eyed woman was running for her life. Her pack was bouncing heavily up and down, her hands forced to hold the straps to keep from losing her precious supplies. She dashed around a corner, casting a quick glance as she turned, seeing the three angry gang members chasing her angrily, weapons brandished. They were all furious at her, for during their fight, she was helping to fix up their fallen enemies. One of the men she'd patched up managed to return to the fight and slay a friend. Now they were blaming her. Just her petching luck. She didn't quite know her exact surroundings, for she'd run away in a massive panic. She was in a more abandoned part of the Sunset Quarters it seemed. Many of these homes had doors skewed open in some fashion, some were crumbling, others were just ruins after fire. She could already feel her breath shortening, despite not having run for long. Turning another corner, she took another moment to look back, it appeared they were gaining on her. Her chest was burning from lack of air. She turned her eyes back forward, only to see the crumbled wall of a building in her path. She was going too fast to stop. She would have to try and jump it, an idea she had very little confidence in. Just as she came up on, it she powered up off her leading leg, extending her following to jump over the rubble. She thought that she was fine, when her hind leg clipped a large rock. Her foot hit hard, her boots probably the only thing protecting her toes from breaking on contact. She found her torso and head tipping down, slamming into the hard dirt, knocking the wind from her lungs. She struggled to pick herself up, not quite on her feet, as someone grabbed her pack. Being lifted bodily was a strange feeling, followed by the dread of having been caught. The man that had her must be incredibly strong, picking her up with one hand, turning her to face him, now her eyes at his, a large knife in his other hand. He pressed it to her face, taunting and teasing. "We caught the little bitch that patched up that scum that stabbed Freaky Franky. I think we should teach her a lesson about who she makes good with. What you think, carve our symbol into her face as a reminder?" Kechaiya was kicking out with her short legs, but her feet bounced harmlessly of the man's muscular chest. No matter how hard she wriggled, she couldn't get free. Then she realized that he was holding her up by her pack, not her cloak. She relaxed, as if giving up, "Look boys, she's accepted what we're gonna do to her." Raising his knife to her face, she raised her arms up, and slipped out of her pack. This change of weight threw the man off balance as she dropped down, just on the edge of the rubble. She drew her own dagger, slashing at the man's groin. She turned to try and run, but found herself backhanded by one of the man's companions, knocking her to the ground a couple feet away. The large man threw her pack down, much angrier now, brandishing the knife and an angry snarl, as he stalked toward her, silent now. |