<div class="floatleft">(http://mimg.ugo.com/200906/22909/cuts/domino_288x288.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name/Alias:</strong>Domino<br/><strong>Origin:</strong>Breeding<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Parking Lot<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Any nearby<br/><hr/><br/>The words struck Domino as odd.  Faint, distant and certainly meant for her.  Those darkly painted orbs shifted toward the sound.  From a window there was a figure tucking himself back into a window set high upon the tower.  A puzzled expression crossed her seemingly painted features before the glint of a rifle scope signaled intent.  On the battlefield a sniper only lifted the cover of his scope at the last moment, the final seconds before a shot was to be fired for fear of signaling position.  The telltale sign forced her body to react while her mind gathered the needed information to respond.  Legs shifted before even a sound could be heard as she knew the bullet would land before the sound reached her ears.   The odds of dodging a bullet were slim to none, which was just enough for her to make the act possible.<br/><br/>Next to her the duffel bag hit the ground while her body lurched to the side.  Around her the probability of being struck by the round was reduced.  Forces behind her knowledge guided the bullet, slowly and subtlety away from her.  Those forces steadily grew stronger while the round came closer, the object of her interest softly brushed away from her moving body.  Synapses along her spine guided her body to the earth away from where the bullet found its non-existent target beside her.  That there was still no sound did not bode well as the rifle was obviously not some amateur purchase.  Her mind continued to spiral forward while her legs propelled her forward toward the tower.  Already she knew the floor and direction of his location.  The immediate concern of her safety fled her mind enough to allow her to recall the words and voice.<br/><br/><em>Spot.  Annoying vocals.  Holy fuck it's the Mouth.  Who the hell would let him in here?  <br/><br/>Same person that let her in here.  Somebody was getting fired at SHIELD today.</em><br/><br/>The thought of taking him down on her first day brought a grim satisfaction to her soul.  There were a couple of scores to settle, a bruised ego to reconcile between herself and that man.  The tower was too tall for her to simple scale via the stairs.  She would be out of breath by the time she got to the man and he would have ample time for an ambush.  So instead she moved for the express elevators, pressing the button to take her up toward his floor, but not there.  Instead she angled for one a flight or two below.  The elevator doors closed.<br/><br/>Shoulders rolled back beneath her black, leather jacket.  The woman's head cocked to the side with a resounding pop, a tilt to the other side brought forth another crackle.  One hand reached behind her to check for the grip of her weapon.  Soft and malleable, she had paid a pretty penny for this particular piece of equipment and the holster that made the weapon fit comfortably behind her.  Time to see if the money was well spent.  One round was already in the chamber, so no need to alert the security to its presence just yet.<br/>