Welcome to Gaia! ::

A figure holding several bags from a cafe moved quickly through the streets. Not that odd of a figure except for the fact it was dressed in a leather jacket with fur trim and an aviators hat. But the figure looked far too little to be a pilot. Standing a petite 4'10'' she barely looked capable of carrying the several bags and boxes she had in her arms...hell, she couldn't even see and kept peering out around them to find her way, soft brown eyes scanning everywhere and all but jumping out her skin at the sight of Imperial soldiers.

The street was clear- the imperial parade was on it's way. The cityfolk of the general district crowded around the shoulders of the main road, some eagerly awaiting the noble display, and some loathing it's approach.

The one doing the most loathing, though, was nowhere in sight. Peering out from under a manhole cover in the middle of the left lane (to the parade), was a young rebel. The parade wasn't only beneficial to the empire- a fiasco wouldn't look good at all.

"And the more of these cunts I can bruise up, the better," the foulmouthed rebel said, clutching with both hands the metal ladder that lead down into the sewers. Two daggers hung from a leather holster wrapped around his waste, covered by a loose, hanging manteu that clung to his neck and shoulders. It was raggedy, like the rest of his clothing. The way everyone dressed in the slums.

Still glaring out from the narrow, dark space between the manhole cover and the road, the boy waited for the right moment. Knowing that the disciplined soldiers, even if they did notice the slightly open manhole cover, wouldn't dare stop to inspect.

He envisioned himself springing out of the whole in the middle of the entire parade and causing havoc. He grinned, excited.

And as she heard the music, the bags dropped.Now height wise, she wasn't an intimdating figure in the least. However, her rack was. She was a D-cup at least...just for Stryphe's character's benefit. She was dressed in a leather jacket and an aviators hat over her mop of white curls.

She reached for the pistol at her side. She may not be an actual rebel...but the Empire wouldn't look good if it lost control of just a little bitty parade. So she fired off all of the bullets in her revolver aiming for nothing in particular, but accidently hitting one of the horses, causing the others near it to rear up and scatter, dragging several carriges about, ladies screaming.

With that done, she then ran for it, quickly finding an deserted alley to duck into.

The machine wasn't insanely big, but big enough to merit a room dedicated to the engine, as well as a small quarters for the coats on board. The underside the youth was clinging to would have two two hatches. One would lead into the engine room, the other would lead under a table. The engine room would be near empty except for an imperial engineer manning the thing. The table on the otherhand, would be surounded by three coats having coffee.

With that the parade marched from the Central district into noble's row.

In the croud there would be a strange man in a non-military black leather coat. He was making his way through in an atempt to keep up with the parade wherever it went.

"Excuse me. Pardon me. Sorry Miss. Excuse me."

Then the man stopped when the horses went out of control. He saw coats go into action right way, acting with ropes to restrain the horses and brute force to restrain the people. These weren't the coats in the parade though they were the coats acting for security. There were enough of them to restrain the horses, and locate the direction of the fire.

Whoever just shot in the air now had two coats on her a**, strongarming their way through the crowd.

The parade though, would go on.

((Gonna post in Noble's row.))

The woman would see the coats run by the bakery, slowed down enough by the crowds not to see her go in. They would be back eventualy, but for now she had time to breathe.

There was a buzz about the central district now, people talking about what they saw and began waiting for their second look.

The crowd cheered and the parade once again returned to central.

It was already heading in the general direction of the business district. It wouldn't be very long.

One dying, one dead, one knocked out, and barely any sound. The boy certianly was percise. Pretty much all he had to do was retreive his knife from the man pinned to the gun rack.

Knock knock knock on the door.

"Is everything all right in there." It was another voice from the outside, "I thought I heard ******** get in here!" The man who was blessed enough with a slower death gurgled out. Hey, maybe he could be saved. Who really knew. Except he was starting to spit up blood and stomach acid now. That could lend itself to the dying hypothesis.

~-------------------------------~

Waving crowds, all that jazz. The parade continued through central.