<span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-style: italic">Pandora</span></span><br/><br/>When Roland said something about a nickname Pandora sighed. Well, that sort of defeated the purpose. She waited for him to think of one and when he did she listened intently. She saw the look on his face when he spoke her â€œnicknameâ€. He seemed... sad. When Roland gave the explanation Pandora understood. His sister...<br/>Pandora gingerly reached over with her left arm and touched his shoulder. Moving her arm and shifting the bandage slightly hurt, yes, but the sympathy she felt ignored the pain. She knew there was nothing she could say, so she just smiled. She could tell him that it would be okay but in truth it never would. She could tell him that she understood his pain after seeing her own brothers murdered before her eyes but that would be selfish and seem an attempt to draw attention to herself. He was a stranger and he had no desire to know her personal problems.<br/>â€œI'm sorry...â€ was all she could force herself to say to break the silence. To change the subject would be disrespectful and uncaring. To ask questions would be prying and rude. All she could do was wait for him to recover from the memory on his own.<br/>Pandora slipped her hand off his shoulder and looked away from him. Even with the best intentions she couldn't quell his miseryâ€”they were strangers. She knew but his name and nothing else. He knew not even that.<br/>Thoughts drifting, Pandora realised something about Roland's armour. It much resembled that of the Crimson Lance soldiers she had just escaped. Though her memory wasn't perfect and she hadn't been paying much attention to his attire. She tried not to look back at him, tried to stay her curiosity by taking her mind elsewhere. The only distraction that sufficed was thinking of her brothers.<br/>Pandora was aware she was rather unstable emotionally, but since her mind was still intact she attempted to suppress her tears with willpower. Beaten, bloody, alone in the world and the only comfort she had was the sun rising the next day to see no change in the world as a whole and feel only indifference to Pandora and her strife. Having taken no comfort from her thoughts it was hard not to cry at the memory of her brothers. The event was so fresh in her mind that she could still recall Ajax's dying expression. He had completely given in, his eyes showed resignation.<br/>Digging what she had for fingernails into her left hand with her right, Pandora struggled to conceal the warm teardrops that begged for freedom from inside her eyelids. She drew her knees up to her body, rested her face on her legs. Tears silently trickled down her cheeks and absorbed into her worn jeans. Even through the crushing misery she still felt rude for breaking eye contact.<br/>â€œI'm sorry I'm acting so weird. I think I might just be in shock. Meh, it happens after things like that. Just don't mind it; I'll be fine,â€ she managed to say without choking on any words, without a hint of her melancholy. Truth was it'd never be fine. Her brothers were<span style="font-style: italic">dead</span>.<br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-style: italic">Tsura</span></span><br/><br/>Tsura ignored his gaze. She felt filthy when she read his feelings and intentions. Attraction was something easy to feel and hard to mistake. Hell, she cared more about the<span style="font-style: italic">bird</span>than that guy. After he asked if they were gone, the bird reacted. Tsura sensed someone behind her. She closed her eyes, remote-viewed the area out of her line of sight. With her eyes closed, the full marking around her left eye was revealed. It was a pointed swirl with the curving end below the eye itself and four dots around the exterior: three on the curve itself, and one above the curve and under the top point. Almost heedlessly she took her gun from her â€œbackpackâ€ unit again and aimed it over her shoulder. The silenced blast sounded more like a<span style="font-style: italic">pop</span>sound as the man behind her crumpled to the ground, a single bullet lodged in his head.<br/>Tsura opened her eyes, slipped her gun away, then looked up to the poacher. He would probably ask about her pistol; it was rare. Very rare. Tsura couldn't have cared less, however; it was a gun that worked nicely for her purposes. Very little recoil, bullets that could easily take down a target in one shot, decent magazine size; those were all things she needed for... well, the only thing she had interest in killing. Disgusting monsters... Flesh-eating formerly-man beasts...<br/>Tsura responded to his first question, â€œNow they are.â€ That last one had probably been a reinforcement called when they were still chasing the dude. Little late to show up, guy. Then he asked her name. She almost didn't want to tell him. Tsura sighed. What harm could it do? Not like knowing her name was any great honour. â€œI'm Tsura. What's your name, fugitive?â€ she asked in an almost neutral tone. The only noticeable hint in her voice was one of condescension. She didn't like the guy, nor did she like speaking. The two didn't mix well.<br/>She felt unclean just<span style="font-style: italic">talking</span>to the criminal. Not that she had anything against criminalsâ€”just fucking poachers. Normally she felt indifference toward the law, finding it all to be an interpretation of common belief and emotionâ€”which was unjust and falseâ€”but to kill something which didn't deserve its life to be taken from them for something as trivial as money was just fucking gross. Sadly enough, that logic was the same she used to justify saving the jerk.<br/>â€œAnd you don't need any more help, do you?â€ Tsura added in the same tone. She<span style="font-style: italic">really</span>didn't feel like helping him any more, but as a child she had been taught by her mentors to help those who needed it regardless of the situation. Damn gypsy morals. Tsura may have been quite different from the other â€œgypsiesâ€, but she still had to submit to the values she'd been shown as a child and come to fully agree with once she grew.<br/>Regardless of whether or not she felt she had to help this man she was still strongly annoyed at the thought of assisting his survival. Tsura walked the rest of the metre or so to the bottom of the hill and behind the man. Jove followed, growling quietly in apprehension. He didn't trust the guy. Very smart little puppy. Tsura waited for the poacher to speak.<br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-style: italic">Lilith</span></span><br/><br/>Lilith studied the woman when she noticed the approach. God, she was weird. Lilith was startled when the woman got up and ran. She nearly jumped when the first arrow landed. She could tell that the chick hadn't been aiming for her. The next arrows hit and confirmed her suspicion. That made Lilith angry.<br/>â€œGet back here, you bitch!â€ she yelled and ran after her. After running far enough that she should have caught up and not seeing the woman, Lilith went into phasewalk. She would travel faster that way. Still, even traveling as fast as she was, Lilith couldn't find that bitch. What the fuck!? When Lilith decided she had gone too far to not be ahead of the chick she stopped and exited phasewalk. A burst of fire surrounded her as she entered that dimension once more and it cleared up after a couple seconds.<br/>She had followed the exact path the woman had takenâ€”so why wasn't she there? Lilith was angry. It must've been some sort of trickery; an illusion. But how...? Lilith had only ever heard of Sirens having the ability to hide like that. This was... insane.<br/>â€œYou don't know who you're messing with! I will find you!â€ Lilith called to the hiding woman. She was around there somewhere; Lilith knew that much. It was some sort of weird trick. She would initiate the chase, then hide and follow Lilith as she searched up and down for her. No, Lilith wasn't falling for it. â€œI'm not playing your game! Show yourself!â€ she yelled, staring straight down the canyon.