Private RP x2

[[Q]]

Another Private RP. No, you cannot join. Any (RP) posts made in here that were not from invited people will be deleted. Sorry.

Also, since this became a problem the last time I had a private RP, Don't PM the people in this RP to join YOUR RP. 99% of the time we don't want to. But thank you for flattering us.

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HERE'S MY SETTING STORY IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT I GUESS YOU'LL FORCE ME TO EDIT IT LATER LOLZ ( stare @ Ven)

Dexterity. A "thriving metropolis". Its borders are adorned with walls. Broken down and riddled with decay, but walls nonetheless. Dexterity was the city in times past where the cruelest of the cruel were thrown and imprisoned. Since those times, the culture here has been different. Outsiders can come in, but they don't often get out. Murders are an everyday occurance and the Bill of Rights has a disclaimer. Standard law does not apply here.

Most of the population is comprised of visitors, as no one with a healthy mind would settle down and have a family here. Full of crime, Dexterity is probably the worst place to live and an unsafe place to travel to.
So why is the population of this city not sparse? The black market. It is not only the drug dealers and outlaws who come here to buy and sell. It is also government officials and corrupt businessmen. Dexterity has the latest and greatest technology, wares, and services. The cruelest of the cruel reside here and the most wanted list is often the same as 'best customers'.

Because of this, many bounty hunters come to Dexterity. Many do-gooders and vigilantes try to "save it". But this place can't really be saved, can it? Many would say it's too far gone.

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This will probably be more of an info post later.

Next post begins RP.
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[[Q]]

It was a dark hotel room, situated at the edge of the building. All the lights were off, the curtains were all closed, and sitting on the floor behind the scope of an M40 sniper rifle were two people.
Aside from a few whiskey bottles and open flasks, the hotel room had not been touched.

Of the two people, one was male, the other female. The male had grey hair and bright green eyes. A silver locket hung from his neck, with a green jem inside it. Normally it was hidden inside his collared, button-up, black-sleeved and red-torso shirt. But it had found its way out earlier, as the girl had been playing with it. It glinted slightly in the dark room as the man adjusted the aim of the rifle. His hands wore fingerless gloves. It was clear this man had no sense of fashion. But, compared to the girl, he was well-dressed. His dress pants were black, as were his boots. Aside from his premature grey hair, the only thing that could be awkward about him was the fact that, below his belt, a dark brownish-grey, almost black tail of a dog waved about haphazardly in a semicircle.

The woman, her skin so pale it probably could reflect moonlight, swatted at it playfully. The both of them were drunk, but the man - Q - seemed to be holding himself much better than the girl. The girl was an albino; so her eyes were an ugly pink. She claimed to be a zombie, and worked at a night club for exotic fetishes. She was off for now, however. Her hair was a wild forest green, and cropped to just her ears. It was almost as if she never bothered to brush or wash it. The bright green didn't stop at her hair. She wore a grass skirt and strapless bra, as well. Both the same shade of green. One could only wonder what her favorite color may be? Her name was Meru.

Q sat up, holding the rifle in place. "Here," he said. His voice was raspy. He was young, but anyone who heard his voice could tell he had been smoking profusely for the better part of his life. His alcoholism probably didn't help matters. He turned his head to face Meru's. He had tanned skin, black "whisker" tattoos on the bottom of his cheeks, and a diagonal scar across his face, which he attempted to hide by having his grey hair cover one eye.

"What?" The girl was giggly but still hesitated, putting a hand to her chin. "But I didn't think you were serious!"

Q grunted slightly. "C'mon. I said I'd let you come with me since you bailed me out. I brought you. I have aimed for you. It is all ready. All you have to do is pull the trigger. It will be fun." It was as if he were talking to a child, almost. "You will see his brains splatter everywhere. Isn't that what zombies like? Brains?"

Even though Q was smirking, he was still all business. He exhaled loudly through his nose and let one of his hands wander from the gun, waving Meru over. She obliged, sitting herself behind the butt of the rifle. Q carefully made his way behind her, guiding her hands to the right places.

"So, look through the scope. What do you see?" he urged her.

"Uhmm..." Her high pitched voice was almost annoying in contrast to Q"s prickley deep one. "Two men in suits. One has a hat. The other one's bald." She giggled at the word bald.

"The two lines that meet in the middle, they're crosshairs. When that is on the head of the guy with that hat, just pull the trigger." He leaned into her back. "But take your face away from the scope before you shoot, or else you'll hurt yourself."

Meru nodded, breathing loudly. "Will I really get to see brains?"
Q narrowed his eyes, trying to see into the scope from the distance behind her. He couldn't see much. "Yes. But pay attention. If you wait too long I'll have to do this for you." His voice was stern, as if he were becoming annoyed. "She'll mess up the shot before too long," he thought to himself.

"Then no brains?" She asked, putting her face to the scope once more.
"No brains," Q repeated dryly. He placed one of his hands on Meru's left breast with a snicker.

She pulled the trigger, the knockback frightening her to a point where she jumped and gave out a small shout, falling back into Q, who laughed.
The window in front of them shattered, and with any luck, Meru had just killed the mayor of a neighboring town who had come to Dexterity for 'business'.
Q gave Meru's naughty bits a slight squeeze before grimacing and pushing the girl aside, making sure she had killed the target. They would have to pack up and move quickly either way, but he had to be sure.

[Raine_Hinata]

"A dark night in an even darker town." a quiet female voice coined poetically. "God, this place is pathetic."

A scuffing sound echoed through the empty alleyway as she lifted one of her heavy, black leather boots and kicked aside an empty, rusted can that lay dented on the sidewalk. "A town of refuse, what a perfectly quaint little place you find yourself in this time, Anasti." she goded herself quietly. A soft sound reached her well-trained ears, a sound of footfalls echoing through the alleyway behind her. Two people, both men by the weight of thier steps, and one with a slight limp. Both behind her, both running in an unerring path that would intersect with her own, and neither to survive thier brief encounter. She stopped, turning slowly into the shadows of the alley and she heard her stalkers steps cease.

A single pale grey eye pierced the darkness, peering out from beneath a swatch of crimson colored hair. To the left of that single eye lay gullies of flesh, three long scars that crossed her otherwise unblemished visage, leading into and out from a black eyepatch that covered a gaping hole where her left eye had once been.

"You might as well come out. I promise to kill you a bit quicker, if you reveal yourselves, and being that you're after me, you should realize what that means." she spoke softly, barely over a whisper, her voice a drawl of monotony. But her apathetic words had an obvious effect as two bulking figures stepped from the shadows. She surveyed them silently, as they did her, the only sound echoing around them was the flapping of her long black coat as it caught in the breeze. Her right arm moved slightly and instantly a pistol appeared in the hand of the man directly to her left. She laughed then, unable to hold back her amusement at this man who thought he could kill her! The gun dipped slightly, held in a trembling hand as the man cast his associate a terrified look.

The other man stares back at him with bleeding, empty eyes. His mouth worked slowly, chin held tight in the grip of a pale hand with pointed nails painted the same crimson as her hair. "Pathetic." the woman's voice laughed, but it was the other man's mouth that made the movements, jerked about like some macabre puppet. A soundless scream rose up in the living man's throat as she dropped his partner and advanced, the last sight sketched before his dying eyes was a glint of silver and a pair of bat-like wings atop a head of streaming crimson.

Pulling a cloth from her pocket, she wiped the still warm blood from her curved dagger's blades almost lovingly, tucking them back into thier holders beneath her long coat as she stepped from the alley. Two men passed in front of her, one bald and the other wearing an ugly black hat, and she paused so as not to run into them, a small smile still lit on her cheeks. A whizzing noise hit her ears and she instantly ducked. The hatted man was not so lucky. He stumbled backwards, reeling from the shot that had pierced the side of his face, tearing off a hunk of flesh on its way in and exploding out the back of him, showering the woman with a veritable cornicopia of blood and brain matter. He took a step towards his companion and then another, electrical impulses still firing in his dying brain, before sinking to the sidewalk in an ever-growing puddle of his own body fluids. Anasti grimaced, standing up and walking out into the street, ignoring the bewildered screams of the bald man. She ran a hand down her jacket front, wiping away the gore, her heavy boots crunching bits of bone beneath them as she eyed the direction the bullet had come from.

"Dammit. I'm going to need a shower." she muttered.

[The wandering mind...]

In every rotten hole of a town like Dexterity, there was a particularly large rodent. A rat or roach that feed on the disease and decay of the world around them, growing fat off it's consumption of others' dreams and riches. Power to match size. With a string of nests that infested the entire city, holding it's occupants under his control. The name of Dexterity's vermin was Louis Marino. A foul man of every sort, unfamiliar with the word, much less concept of morals, Marino was still an incredibly intelligent man. While a figure more befitting of the pudgy man waltzing beside him would better suit his position in this world, he had a lean figure, the bulk on his body consisting more of disguised muscle than indulgence in the fats and sweets of the world. He was a man that feed on something even more delicate. Money. Even so, he didn't over display his wealth like the fat mayors and 'gentlemen' around him, wearing only a large emerald in a gold ring on his left hand and gold pocket watch in his right pocket. The man just reached six feet, pushed by the slight raise of the shined shoes he wore. Everything was of course black, color not fitting of a man of his occupation. He had a sharp face, deep emerald eyes, competing with the gem on his ring for depth, though obscured by a heavy brow, from years of serious expression. His hair was a dark black, lightly peppered with earned grey.

He was in the middle of a business transaction with the man beside him, a mayor of a local town, who barked more than he could back up, and thought he had the balls to pull something over Marino. A foolish mistake, and as he was considering a method to dispose of the problem the man was causing, it seemed to take care of itself as the gentleman's head exploded in a red confetti next to him. In less than an instant men that were moments before unseen appeared around the now crimson speckled man, words not needed in exchange as he nodded at the tall thin figure that appeared directly in front of him.

Within seconds the figure was racing toward the building the shot came from, the shot gun strapped to the back of brown duster she wore made it's way to her hands by the time she burst through the door. The occupants of the room would have to move fast to not be caught, for as she headed up the stairs, two burly men also in Marino's employment were quick to follow.

With that business being handled, Marino turned now to the girl who'd shared in his shower of brain matter. Pulling a white cotton handkerchief from his inner breast pocket, he dabbed at the red fluid as if it was as everyday as sweat. Once his brow was clean, he smiled, though it was ill looking, and offered the cloth to the young woman.

"I'm sorry miss. It seems my companion here has made a mess of himself." His voice was low and smooth, flawless, and the way he spoke seemed to flow. He was a man who knew how to speak and speak well.

[[Q]]

Q looked through the scope, noticing that the mayor had, in fact, been killed. There were brains, and most importantly, a woman looking straight at him. Or was that the most important part? Q could see something at the edge of the scope move quickly. He couldn't tell what it was from sight, but he could guess. "s**t," he grumbled.

The woman looking toward the scope must be one of the bald man's goons. They were both standing together, though he didn't see her before this had gone down. Not even moments later he could hear stairs being climbed at a speedy pace. Q wasn't all human, the things that came with him allowed him slight advantages. Such as, good hearing. Although it helped he didn't blow out his eardrums like most others from loud music.

Regardless, that didn't matter right now. Q had to pack up his things and leave. He quickly began dismantling the removable parts of the rifle, and tossing them into the gun case. Meru looked worried. "What's going on?"

"Killing's the fun part. Running's the working part," Q hastily replied. The things were all in the case. He slammed it shut and clipped the two locks. He couldn't tell how many people were running up the stairs, but he was sure one was enough.

"Running?" Meru questioned. "Q, why are you--"

Q turned around, the case in one hand, and slapped her with his free hand. "Shut up and just follow me," he growled. "I guess I underestimated his guards,"

Q grabbed an open flask, closed it and shoved it in his pocket before rushing out the door to the hotel room. Not the wisest exit, but he wasn't about to jump down three stories. He didn't have seven lives, here. Just one.

Meru was already lagging behind, and they weren't even completely out of the room yet. It was a mistake bringing her. Obviously this wasn't as easy an assignment as he had previously thought.
He stopped momentarily to look at her, then made the administrative decision and left her there. She couldn't run fast enough anyway.

The stairs were at the end of the hall, after the elevators. He rushed to the elevator and pushed both the up and down buttons. Whichever one came first would be fine.
It looked to the stairs, then the elevator.

[********, I am an idiot!" he cursed to himself, kicking the elevator and running back down the hallway to his room, just as he could see out of his peripheral vision some shadow coming through the fire stairs' door...

He wasn't a cat, he was a dog. Dog's didn't have as good reflexes as cats. But he had no other choice at this point. Inside the room he went to the bathroom. He threw the gun case at the window with all the force he had, the window shattering outside. After kicking the wooden frame out he threw the case out the window. Climbing atop the toilet, he let himself go feet first out the window as well.
"Q, what are you doing?!" Meru screamed. She obviously didn't follow his reckless behavior, and stared at the window. It really was a mistake to bring her. She'd already said his name twice and she'd probably just look dumbfounded at his point of exit. What a stupid girl. She wasn't worth the money she was paid.

His feet hit the ground first, and immediately collapsed, rolling on his back with a groan of pain. He'd be surprised if his legs weren't broken. They didn't feel broken. But they did hurt like hell.
He grunted, trying to roll to his feet again before the others on the street noticed he had jumped from so high. He managed to get on his knees but the shock of the fall prevented him from doing much else. His legs felt like tree trunks. They just wouldn't move.
"This is what I get for not being born a cat," he mused to himself.

He'd have to hope he could recover before the others thought to look at the street corner.

[The wandering mind...]

Her name was Cassandra. She was Marino's top guard, and most trusted of all his crew. She was tall, taller than the man himself, and thin, her figure only barely female, a hint of breasts, a hint of hips, made less by the leather she wore binding her body. She was incredibly agile though. She was a close distance killer however, if you were twenty feet or more away from her, you were safe, but an inch less and you were dead a hundred ways before you realized. Or so her reputation went, of course such things were exaggerated, but it fell close to the line of truth, she'd been killing from the time she could walk. Braided back, brilliant orange hair bounced behind her as she took the steps two at a time, hitting the door with enough force that it swung open in a spectacle. Her eyes sharpened on the case the man at the elevator held, too familiar for it's meaning to miss her. This was the man she was after. He darted back through the room and she went after him, shoving the strange looking woman out of her way. The men following her would take care of her. Instead Cassandra followed the sound of the crash of the window. As she moved across the room, her hands moved as smoothly as her feet, shotgun sheathed again with one hand, the other slipping under duster to the back of her waist, producing a small length of rope. Three stories was not a terrible drop, however the initial shock would delay her, more of course than the time it took her to quickly tie an end of the cord around the plumbing before tossing herself out the window after him. The rope ended two thirds the way down and with a smooth movement she landed on her feet, bending her knees to distribute the shock of the landing, recovering easier than the man she pursued.

Drawing the gun again, she pointed it straight at the man's head, now taking a moment to look him over. Silver hair, but a young face. A peculiar fellow. She wondered if he'd get to live long enough for her to learn more about him. "Your move." She pulled the hammer back, mostly for effect, as the action was unnecessary.

[Raine_Hinata]

Anasti's predatory eye followed the bullet trail up, her heightened vision being able to catch just a glimpse of glint on a gun barrel before she suddenly found herself face down on the blacktop. Several people had detached themselves from the shadows and she cursed under her breath for failing to notice them as she pulled herself back to her feet. Her mind had still been in its post-killing haze when she had stepped from the alleyway and she had allowed her sense to be confused. A few of the men who had appeared had broken off and headed straight for the building from which the shot had come. One of them had obviously knocked into her and, her mind occupied on stretching her vision to its limits, she had fallen.

As she stood up, she noticed the other man who had been with the mark approaching her, handkerchief outstretched. When he spoke, his words were those of someone who has spent alot of time having people do exactly what he wants. His smile wasn't exactly charming in her eyes, either.
"Thank you, but no." she declined the offer, casting him a wary glance. He looked like the kind of person who worked for the kind of people she was running from. Best to keep a safe distance. "I'll be on my way then, the night's not a complete waste." she drawled in a derigatory tone, making it very clear to him that he wasn't worth wasting her time. Turning away from him quickly, she started to walk towards the hotel, grimacing slightly as she picked a few street pebbles from the palm of her hand.

Her low-brimmed hat had gone flying when she fell, and she spotted it now, a few feet away in a gutter. Picking it up, she brushed it off, casting it a disdained look. "******** it." she said softly, throwing it to the ground. She ran a hand through her long crimson hair, careful not brush the pair of black bat-like wings that sprouted from the top of her head, nor the fins which projected from where her ears should be. Anasti Resistalion wasn't quite human either. She skirted the edge of the group, not anxious to draw any more attention to herself then she already had, unconciously heading toward the tall hotel while she peeled off her long black coat, now covered in blood.

Beneath it, she wore a tight, red spaghetti strap shirt which faded into fishnet along her well-toned stomach and arms. A spiked, black belt held up a long black skirt, slitted to her waist on either side. Two perfectly formed holders attached to the belt, each containing a single curved dagger. Beneath the skirt's back hem, seven small pouches were cunningly concealed, each containing a poision more deadly then the last. Her skin was pale beneath her clothes and contrasted well with her blood-red hair which traced down her back in a single, thick braid bound with a long black, silk ribbon. She dropped the now ruined jacket on the ground as she slipped into the alley behind the building.

She was intruiged, and couldn't help getting closer to the scene of the action, so as not to miss anything. A small smile pulled at the corner of her painted lips as she leaned against the brick building and pulled a pack of cigarettes from her shirt. Popping the box open with a flick of her wrist, she extracted a small, red lighter and a single cigarette. Listening to the shouts and thudding footsteps inside the building, she leaned her head back and held the fire to the end of the tobacco.

"Q! What are you doing!"

The scream reached her ears only seconds before the glass in a window a few stories above her shattered and a large case fell into the alley, barely missing her. She stubbed her cigarette along the bricks and slid sideways until she was mostly hidden behind a large dumpster further into the alley. Seconds later, a large figure landed with a thud almost exactly where she had just been standing, and instantly crumpled to his knees. She watched, slightly amused as he forced himself to his knees with a loud groan of pain but didn't continue to move.

Before she could make a move towards him, a second figure dropped into the mix, this time a relatively good-looking woman sporting a nasty-looking gun. This was getting more intertaining by the second, and Anasti couldn't help but enjoy it.

'This is going to be a good night, after all.' she thought, allowing a smile to cross her lips as she unhooked her daggers and soundlessly pulled them into her hands. Sliding out from her hiding place in one smooth movement, she came up behind Cassandra, her pale, thin arm snaking around the woman's neck until her viciously curved dagger pressed into the skin. Her single eye glinted silver in the moonlight as she stepped out from the shadows, echoing Cassandra's words.

"Your move, girly."

[[Q]]

Q's legs quivered involuntarily beneath him. He looked to the woman who now had a gun to head. Then from where she came form.
"A rope," he thought. "Why didn't I think of that?"
This would be the last time he would underestimate such a mission. He shouldn't have drank and brought a whore along with him. He should've guessed that would be his downfall. For the second time, he mused. Oh, he couldn't do his business without his pleasure, could he?

His attention went back to the girl, who had him cornered. Q put his hands up slowly. "Ah, Sorry; sorry," he mustered. A genuine, thick french accent came from him. He hoped she would believe he knew little english. Sometimes, people pitied foreigners. Innocent contractors, foreigners were. They did their deed and they left.

But a new actor came onto the stage, then. Another woman. This one had fins for ears. He would've snickered at the prospect had he not been trying to pass off as an innocent frenchman.
She put a dagger to the first woman's throat. There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments. Q flexed the muscles in his legs. He felt he could move.

With a grimace, he swung his arms around, grabbed the gun case, and threw it at the first woman's face(the one with the gun). He didn't wait for her response. As soon as the case left his hands, he sprinted in the opposite direction from the both of them. The gun was inexpensive. Just an M40. He needed better anyway.

[The wandering mind...]

A thousand curse words ran through her head. Cassandra was pissed. She was the best. She does not get caught off guard. And yet there she was, cold steel against her throat. That girl will die. She didn't know when, but at some point in the future she'd smile as the woman bleed on her hands, gasping for her last breath.

She of course wasn't worried. They were in the middle of a big deal, walking out in the open. Of course Marino had men everywhere. She didn't move. She didn't have to.

Though of course Cassandra had to move when the gun case came flying at her. She leaned back, away from the blade and into the girl that held it, letting it fly past their shoulders.

Marino didn't take lightly to being brushed off, but he, unlike his right hand, was above the need for revenge. Everything was business with him. Money came first. It was without even quickening his pace that the man followed in the direction the strange girl had gone. Another foul smile cracking his face in two evilly as he spotted the situation. A pretty little standoff, his Cassandra with a gun to the man's head, and the girl with a knife on her throat. She had to be good to pull that one off. Still.. she wasn't good enough.

"I believe the move is now yours." Marino stood behind her, hand casually in his pockets as five or six men surrounded them, a range of weapons clasped in their hands.

"Then again, maybe we can all play nice and just chat for a little while?" He smirked, a look worse than his smile. "Of course, I would not think twice dropping you here."

As the silver haired man threw the case and took off, he was stopped by the two men from earlier, who were holding the albino woman between them, ignoring her fussing.

[[Q]]

If legs could scream, Q's would be a shrieking louder than a thousand sirens. The pain shone on his face but for the most part, no where else. He thanked the gods for his legs not breaking; a few strained muscles and tendons were a good substitute. He didn't know exactly where he would collapse, but he hoped it was some place not here.

Two men forced him to stop momentarily. They held Meru. She, of course, was shouting 'let me go' and the like. But once her ugly pink eyes spotted him standing there, gritting his teeth in pain, she did something he'd hate her for, "Q! Help me!" she leaned toward him, trying to get him to help her.

As if he would. Not after she used his name for the third time. Even an idiot didn't need his full name to figure it out. Not many names in the world started with a Q. Even if, by chance, none of these people had heard his name before, they definitely had now. He would've punched her in the face had he not been on the run.

Then he remembered. A shaky leg took a step back, and Q unholstered the glock at his belt. This and a dagger were the only weapons on him. He hardly ever used either. He was a long distance type of fighter.

Before the two men holding the 'zombie' could react, he shot her in the head. She became dead weight, and whether they went down with her, or they let her go to allow her to fall down, Q didn't care. He ran between the two men who had been holding her, jumping over Meru's body.

It would've been a cinematic sequence, if all had gone correctly. The perfect escape route for such a hopeless mission that had gone so awry. The jump was almost picturesque, Q could see his new getaway... Until his feet landed on the ground.

He managed to land running, but by the second stride he crumpled over, his hands saving his fall. He rolled onto his back defensively, panting in a mix of anger and pain. The grimace was apparent on his face, his teeth bared in a silent growl. He wanted to scream in both agony and embarrassment. He knew he wasn't going to be able to stand up this time. Anticipating the men coming back to him, he slid the gun away from his body and forced himself to sit up with a grunt followed by a tired groan.

He interlocked his fingers behind his silver head, and said, "Don't shoot." The french accent was there, but not as thick as before. Q didn't have the energy. What was more apparent was the pain in his voice. Both that and defeat. He assumed a lesser man's face would've turned red, or at least would begin to start trying to barter for his life.

Q just laid himself back down with a sigh, trying to slow his breathing. His hair split and revealed both his eyes. They were squinting, as his pupils were cat-like slits that appeared thinner than a hair. Daylight was not Q's best time for work. He normally had sunglasses, but he wasn't expecting to have to jump out a window today. The scar on his face went over his nose. It was thin and precise; something old that was done years a go by someone who knew what to do with a blade. More learned people would be able to tell it was from a rapier. Whomever had made the wound, had intended for it to scar, not just to injure.
The man himself was six feet tall, and couldn't be older than 28. Truthfully, he was only 25, but his sinful habits had aged him.

He hid his tail near one of his legs as laid down on his back. It was just that and his eyes that would give away he wasn't human. And really, not many people noticed his eyes. He hoped whatever the men were going to do to him would be quick, as he closed them with a sigh.

[Raine_Hinata]

((small edit))

Anasti smiled as the girl before her froze. She was intelligent, this one, and she knew that this pretty little dagger would have her head off of her shoulders before she could even think about firing. When the case came flying towards them, she felt Cassandra lean into her and the gun case flew over thier combined shoulder.
She tightened her grip around the woman's neck, but this time her sensitive ears had caught what she should have heard all along, the echoing footsteps of several men coming into the alley and surronding the small group.

Her smile faded. She didn't have time to pay attention to what was happening to her interesting quarry, although her well-trained mind did register the shouts from the same iditiotic voice she had heard inside before a single gunshot silenced them. Even an idiot could put two and two together. But she didn't see Meru crumple to the ground, one pink eye laying haphazardly on her right cheek, brain matter leaking from the back of her head. Nor did she see Marino's two men, temporarily stunned as they released the quickly cooling body and turned toward Q, who had just jumped between them. She didn't see but she heard the thud of of footsteps on pavement as he landed, and groan of pain as his weakened leg muscles dropped him to his knees.

No, all she saw in that instant when she realized she was surronded, was Marino himself. She released the pressure on Cassandra's throat and spun on the spot, dagger flying from her hand in one smooth movement and embedding itself in the skull of man nearest Marino, spraying his jacket once more with a fine spray of blood.

"Don't shoot." the voice, rippling with the obvious vestigaes of a French accent floated over his shoulder as she gave Marino a small smile before lacing her fingers together behind her own head of streaming crimson and dropping to her knees.

"Don't shoot." she echoed. Even now her voice held the echo of a taunt, of a challenge, somewhere in the traces of a russian accent that popped to the surface when she was angry. She cursed herself silently for allowing herself to become distracted by these events and so captured. Without her coat and hat it was impossible to hide the fact that she was anything but human. Her red fin-like ears protruded from the sides of her head, and two black bat-like wings jutted from either side of her forehead, normally expanded but now they had curled into themselves and lay flat. Her single eye flashed silver in the fading darkness. She had an inkling that this might make her more interesting to this man, Marino, standing before her. At least it might keep a slug from making a permanent visit to her brain...at least for the time being. "Don't shoot." she repeated, echoing Q's movements and laying on her back on the sidewalk. Her well-toned and pale body gave away nothing of her age,as she stretched out her full five foot seven frame, but her face betrayed her. Her eye, scars, and skill spoke of someone with years of training, heartache, and death. Her slender face revealed her youth, a woman of twenty-three.

The single silver eye that marked her as what she was even more clearly then the fins and wings on her head shifted sideways to look at her quarry. She wasn't sure why she found this whole situation so interesting, but at the very least Q owed her a new coat. She'd rather liked her old one.

[The wandering mind...]

Though the action had initially stunned them, after working for a man like Marino long enough, nothing gets to you for long. They were not about to let the man get away, turning for the chase, only to find to their delight he'd incapacitated himself. It's great when your prey makes your job easy for you. The taller of the two, though both were giants on their own, pulled the man up and to his feet with ease, more dangling him above the ground and letting his feet drag as he brought him over to his boss, while the other shoved a gun in the man's back. Just in case the a*****e decided to pull something funny again.

Marino didn't flinch as yet again someone next to him met their untimely end, probably deserved several times over. With a grace that seemed alien in the grimy alleyway, he once again removed his handkerchief from his vest and dabbed at his face. The blood barely shown on his clothing, no need to address it for the moment. He would change in his limo.

Cassandra smiled as the tables turned back in her favor. She turned her shotgun now on the girl laying down, not missing the tone of the girl's 'Don't shoot.' She cocked her head to the side and looked at her as if she was some pathetic sick puppy, whimpering for someone to put it out of it's misery.

"Please... give me an excuse to." She grinned, not as foul as her employer's, more mischievous than anything. She'd love to show this girl just how much she pissed her off. Though using her gun was her nice way to do things, strapped to her legs were a dozen or so throwing knives, and in her tall mid-calf boots were two six-inch blades. She was one to not understand the concept of under packing.

Marino shook his head at his first mate, she just had that sort of charm to her. Dramatically he placed a hand on his brow as in thought as his goons brought over the other prisoner.

"Now now... what to do..." He turned his site first to the silver haired man. "You see, that man whose head you burst a few minutes ago was a business associate of mine. I tend to not appreciate having their brain matter split on my good coat." He brushed a bit of skull off his shoulder in emphasis.

"And as for you," He turned to the girl on the ground, nothing in his head her strange looks, though his expression didn't let it slip."I appreciate it even less when it's someone who works for me." He placed his hand back in his pockets and took a few steps around them, looking toward the sky as if it had the answers. "So please, tell me why I should let you two live?"

[[Q]]

Q grunted as he was picked up, a hmph escaping him as the muzzle was pierced into his back. Well, at least he didn't have to walk.

When Marino asked his question, Q hesitated. He tried to think of what to say, and looked over to the fish-for-brains woman to see if she would answer first. After confirming she wouldn't, he looked back to the ground and closed his eyes again, squeezing them shut. The light was getting to him; he had a headache now. Just one more pain to add to his woes. He briefly hoped the goons wouldn't drop him down to his knees. That would probably make him scream at this point.

"I do small claims," he finally mustered, his pains apparent. Still, he struggled to hang onto the french accent. It wasn't fake - Q was French, but he hadn't spoken anything but English for a very long time. "If I had known who I was dealing with, I would not have accepted. My contractor will be reprimanded."

Q didn't know who the man in front of him was. He knew of Marino, that was for sure. But Q had never seen his face or heard his voice. All Q knew was that the man in front of him was someone who was out of his league. He wasn't expecting this, and if he had, he wouldn't have taken the job. Or at the very least, charged much more. The contractor would have a lot of explaining to do if Q survived this. Did he think he could squeeze money out of Q just because he was a hybrid? That a**...

Although it strained him, Q still attempted to hide his tail against one of his legs. It was easy to miss, since the colors of his pants and tail were nearly identical. He didn't know how racist this man was, and considering the position he was currently in, Q didn't want to push the wrong buttons.

[Raine_Hinata]

Anasti gave Q a sideways look as he was carried over next to her. She ignored Cassandra's taunts, knowing better when to kepe her mouth shut. However, her body did do the smallest of double takes when Marino insuinated that she worked for him. Her? Work for him? The idea was hillarious at the best of times and rather annoying at the moment. She glared darkly up at him and bit her lip against a smart-a** retort which most likely would have landed her very dead a** in the gutter right next to Mister Silver Hair, here.

She even went so far as to let him have the first word when it came to saving thier scrawny hides. It was, how you say, his party. These man was obviously some sort of local kingpin and she had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

'More like STUCK yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time, sweety. You could have just left.' her irritating, and yet truthful inner voice goaded her. It was right. She could have just left. But life had been boring as of late, and this all seemed MUCH to entertaining to pass up. And when she saw the mystery man's tail, although he had tried to hide it, she thought that there must have been a reason why she had decided to hang around and even go so far as attempting to save the guy's neck. It had been a long time, years even, since she had seen another one even remotely like herself. And now, here in a dark ******** alley that stank like fish guts, at the point of a gun that WASN'T friendly, was another one.

And he was a ******** merc. Thats just lovely.

"Look." she spoke up suddenly, leaning up on her elbows but making no move to attack. " I don't know who Mr. ******** Silver Hair here is. I don't know who you are either, buddy. And I most definetly don't work for you." she grinned sarcastically, the wings on her head flaring out. "I came. I killed. I'm leavin'. So if you'll just be so kind as to hand my dagger, Lil' Miss Stick up Her a**..." she addressed Casandra with a pausing glance. "..I'll be on my merry way. Off to kill things another day. Besides..." she cast a look around at the circle of armed men that surronded the two of them and uttered a low chuckle.

"...I've got some nasty people after me and you really don't want to get caught in the middle, Mister Suave." she grinned.

[The wandering mind...]

"Small claims?" Marino repeated after the man. "I'm interested in who signed your check. Though maybe I should write you one myself." He laughed, a short 'hmph' with a pitch above his voice really, too cold to be called laughter. It got a smile out of several of his crew, as hopefully Q would get the joke. "You're a lucky boy," He chose his words purposefully, the man before him long past such a term, but he wanted him to think, no, wanted him to know that he was a man with power enough to call him anything he wanted. "I was going to waste the rat myself. But now that you've done me this little favor, maybe I'll do one for you, and not make the last memory you have this filthy little alcove."

Marino turned his attention to Anasti as she spoke. He merely lifted an eyebrow at the girl. It seemed like those scars across her hidden eye, should she still have one beneath the patch, ran rather deep, and harmed more than just her vision. Work for him? She must be dense.

"My dear, I meant the man whose cranium you rudely misplaced your knife through. He works for me, and do you understand what that means? You owe me a body. Now despite your..." He paused and stepped over to her, a hand lightly tracing the edge of a wing and down a fin, "...differences, I'm sure I could find several ways for yours to repay me." He of course meant in selling her off. Not to himself, no, he never mixed pleasure with business, that was just bad ethics.

There was a small huff as Cassandra thought of what she could do to the little b***h's body. It of course involved various tools and levels of pain, but then again, so did many things in her world.