<span style="font-style: italic"><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;">Pandora</span></span><br/><br/>Pandora sighed when he asked who had hurt her. Those fucking Crimson Lance. The very thought of them made her want to shoot something. They'd taken everything from her since her childhood and they continued to do so even to that day... Those<span style="font-style: italic">fucking</span>Crimson Lance. She shook her head, clearing the anger from her mind and started to explain.<br/><br/>â€œIt was those Lance bastards. They found my brothers and I before we could get to them and...â€ she paused, unable to continue momentarily. During the silence, Roland offered her help with her wounds. That was nice of him. Pandora took his hand and stood. She stumbled a little, dizziness returning. She stood up too quickly.<br/><br/>Pandora steadied herself, brought her hand to her forehead. She thought of a rational, calm, and realistic way to describe her experiences. Painâ€”both mental and physicalâ€”clouded her ability to think clearly. She came up with an explanation, though, and started talking again.<br/><br/>â€œWhen they found us it was an immediate shoot-out. No â€œhands up!â€, no warnings issued. My brothers and Iâ€”oh god, my brothersâ€”we defended ourselves as best we could. Their three friends, fellow bandits, were killed first. It was ten Lance on six of us. Long story short, the fight ended with me and three Lance men. One tried to rape me, he took off his helmet. I hit him, stole his gun, shot him in the face. I ran out, shot one of the others in the head and his friend in the torso. That one flew back but didn't die. I guess they called in reinforcements because more than one ended up chasing me when I got a decent distance. I took that shortcut through that path and ended up on the road. You know what happens from there.â€ Pandora choked up when she mentioned her brothers but cleared her throat and continued softly and almost emotionlessly. She didn't look Roland in the eye, couldn't.<br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-style: italic">Tsura</span></span><br/><br/>Tsura listened to him speak. Yes, his sarcasm made her angry. She wasn't going to play his game, though. She was not there for his amusement; she didn't have to help him, after all. She'd just be as boring as possible which wasn't hard since she rarely ever voiced her thoughts. Not many people interested her, so she didn't have many conversations. Simple as that.<br/><br/>Tsura waited in silence for the apparent hilarity the man felt to subside. She couldn't give a serious answer with him giggling about her every word. A humourless tone had conveniently befallen the odd two-person caravan as they neared the Catch-A-Ride station. Tsura stopped a few metres from the platform, eyes directed at the ground in front of her.<br/><br/>â€œI know you're not sorry; you're a poacher, why would you be? To you, I seem weak for flinching at the sight of the Skag being killed. Yes, I do have a soft spot for most living creatures. Call it empathy, call it weakness, call it what you will, I am what I am. Just the same, you are what you are. I accept that, angry as I might seem,â€ she told him. Her voice was quiet but strong, beautiful. â€œTo clarify, there are two creatures I will kill without much guilt. One of them is the most vicious beat of all: humans. The other? Well... that's more of a closely-guarded secret,â€ she added, paused. â€œAnd even the sickest of beasts I will only kill if necessary.â€ Tsura's voice contained no hostility, no anger. On some level, she wanted him to know that she wasn't just an angry bitch with no regard for another's feelings, but on another she just didn't want to be goaded. She hoped that speech to be the most she ever spoke to the man in one discourse. It was the most she'd said in a single monologue in a while.<br/><br/>Finished speaking, Tsura walked up onto the Catch-A-Ride platform and stood before the vehicle station. She stepped back from it and nodded as if to say â€œwell, get oneâ€. Tsura didn't prefer driving; like most gypsies she was comfortable walking everywhere she needed to go. She was rarely in a hurry and even more infrequently did she have a set location to travel to.<br/><br/>Tsura looked Mordecai in the eyes but her expression betrayed nothing of her thoughts or emotions. She had resigned her anger for the most part and just accepted her situation. Escort to a poacher, cool. Forced kindness, guilty assistance. Such was the life of a sympathetic gypsy.<br/><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-style: italic">Lilith</span></span><br/><br/>Lilith was about to pull the trigger when the woman showed herself. Smart girl. The Siren listened to the strange woman speak and frowned at her explanation of her actions. Weirdo... The bitch had just wanted to show her something all along? Who even said Lilith wanted to see it? Furthermore, twenty years? What, had the chick been born in the canyon?<br/><br/>Lilith ignored the strange thought and stared at the girl, watched as she turned around. Well, at least she'd be easier to kill if she decided to fuck up. Lilith lowered her gun but didn't put it away. She wouldn't be the one caught off-guard.<br/><br/>â€œWhat exactly do you want to show me, anyway?â€ Lilith asked as she followed the woman. She rather wanted to know where she was being led to; who knew? Maybe it was a trap. Sure, she could just phasewalk out of danger but just the thought of being led into an ambush didn't sit well with Lilith.<br/><br/>The Siren looked around. She saw nothing, sensed no one. Maybe the girl was being honest... Doubtful, but maybe. Lilith decided to trust the woman for the moment but not fall into a false sense of security. She kept her gun out, pointed to the ground in front of her. Lilith's expression nearly hissed â€œdon't fuck with me. I'll fill you with holesâ€.