World so C O L D |Casey|

[ERIA HATEM]

To anyone passing by her on the streets, it would seem that Eria Hatem had either escaped from prison or got off from working as a welder. If they guessed the first choice, they were right. Eria had spent the last week stuck inside a New Order prison where she'd undergone countless sessions of "rehabilitation", or as it should have been called brainwashing. Were she anyone else then she wouldn't have been walking back to her home/place of work that very moment.

It had started last Friday, when on the underground newswire there was a report of the Order accomplishing a major raid on a safehouse outside of the city; about twenty people had been taken into custody. It had been too good of a chance to pass up; full infiltration into one of the major prison complexes in the tri-state area. How could she not get in on that? Getting in had been far easier than even she had thought; all she had to do was step in line at the prison gates. She'd dyed her hair and put on make-up so she wasn't recognized as the "leader" of the resistance movement.

At first all she had to do was sit in her cell and answer "yes sir" to everything she was asked and told. After a few days though she was introducted to the main population of the prison, as were all the others that had been seized in the raid. She hadn't expected what came next: classes where she and all the others were to be taught how to re-enter society as respectable citizens. She wasn't too worried about herself, but she was worried about everyone else that was going into that class. If they all became mindless zombies it would make it a lot harder for her to break out of there.

The next days consisted of classes and listening to the same crap over and over again while pretending to get the message and accept it. Thank god for years of lying to cops. Finally the time came when she was let out of her cell for a moment other than class; she was able to coax a guard to open her cell so that he could come in and she could show him something. Lucky for her she got the one prison gaurd in the Order that still had a bit of predictable male lust left.

It was easy enough to disarm him and grab his keys and gun; she then tore out of there like a bat out of hell and ran to the end of the terrace, stuck the key in a lock, and pressed a button that undid all the cell doors on the block. She then ran quickly up to the next terrace and repeated the process. And so it went for the next two terraces before finally she had to call it quits and get the hell out of there. Being on the third floor, it may have seemed like she was caught, but this was Eria and to her there was no such thing as getting caught.

After a bit of brawling and then jumping out a window to land on a roof a ways down, she was able to run back to the main entrance and throw the doors open, allowing the hoard of newly escaped prisoners to run into freedom. Of course some guards ran out as well and a few shots were fired, mostly at her, and in the end she was left with a bullet lodged in her upper left thigh and right shoulder. It was amazing that she was able to get away, but she was.

And now she was back home, standing outside the main doors with blood dripping from her fingertips and pooling on the ground below her. Stepping through the doors into the main floor of the base, Eria looked around. The place seemed quiet enough; no one really seemed to be around at the moment. Fine by her; she hated it when there were a lot of people. Making her way over to the living room she sat down on a couch and leaned her head back, staring up at the ceiling. Even though she was still bleeding, and she knew it, all she felt like doing was sitting and staring at nothing.

---

Outfit: Here

[CASEY BRIGGS]

Eria may have thought she was alone on the first floor of the base. She wasn’t, but it was understandable that she might have thought that, considering the hour and the person who shared that particular floor with her. After all, Casey’s success as a messenger somewhat depended on her ability to go unnoticed. It was amazing what dark clothing and her black hat to hide her bright blonde hair could do to make her practically invisible. And since all the citizens of the so-called New Order were down on the ground, eyes on the street lest someone think they had an ounce of free thought left in them, no one noticed one small, dark shape flitting across the rooftops. Occasionally she got careless, or unlucky, but not usually. The times she was seen was one in five hundred, maybe, and she’d never been caught.

As Eria walked into the living room, not bothering to turn on the lights, a pair of bright blue eyes watched her from one of the window nooks. Casey didn’t really like being inside—too much time on the streets, she supposed. The rooms in the base weren’t bad (though she refused to go in the basement), with plenty of windows and normal height ceilings, but she still preferred to stay by a window when she could. And in the dark of night, with the lights out, nobody saw her there, so it was safe enough. She just didn’t like the idea of getting stuck in the middle of the room if something happened; better to be able to kick out the window and get the hell out of there. She’d looked all around the base. The outside of the building was more than rough enough to be climbed, and if she could get on the roof she was nigh uncatchable.

She flicked the brim of her hat up a little to get a better look. Even in the dark, she could see that Eria was bleeding, as if the faint coppery smell in the air weren’t enough. Looked like two wounds: one in the leg, one in the shoulder. Casey shook her head slightly. She didn’t know where Eria’d been, but apparently she’d been messing with the New Order all by herself again. Damn stupid thing to do, but Casey wasn’t really one to judge. It was exactly the sort of thing she’d have done. Gone off on her own. She didn’t need anybody’s help to fuck with the Order. She watched silently as Eria flopped onto one of the couches and stared at the ceiling. Apparently she didn’t care that she was bleeding; at least, she wasn’t going to do anything about it. Casey waited a moment, debating whether to leave and give the message in the morning.

Fuck it, she decided. She wasn’t going to sit there and let the leader of this whole thing bleed out. She unfolded her short legs and hopped down onto the ground, sticking her hands Into her pockets. ”You look like hell,” she said by way of greeting, ”Been playing with the New Order goons, have you?” Casey wasn’t much one to respect the chain of command. She just wasn’t that formal. She’d do what Eria asked, but only because she believed in the cause, and she respected Eria enough to follow her lead. That was it. Anybody tried to order her around for anything else, they got a swift kick to the crotch and the cold shoulder. Casey wasn’t one to waste words. Actions spoke louder and all that.

”Got a message I been holding on to for you,” Casey continued abruptly. It was in an inner pocket of her innocuous black sweatshirt, which was riddled with such things (she had a few of them, all ones she had personally fixed up to have just the right pockets to hide all her shit in. All with quick-release drawstrings on them, to keep them secure when she freeran, but so that she could get them out quickly in a pinch. ”But I won’t give it to you yet. I ain’t Doc, but if one of us doesn’t patch you up he’ll cuss us both out in the morning.” She pulled one of the little medkits stashed all over the base (people coming back wounded was nothing new, after all) out from under an armchair and waggled it in the air slightly. ”I can fix up a bullet wound or two, yeah?” And that was as close as Casey got to asking permission to do anything; that pause as she waited for a response.

[ERIA HATEM]

Honestly she shouldn't have been surprised at the sudden sound of someone else in the rooom with her; it was only natural that another person be lurking in the shadows; someone always was. Even if their was their safehouse, there was really no safe feeling about it. Everyone was always on edge about who was coming through the door, and everyone was ready for the worst. Eria felt her fingers twitch slightly as the feet hit the ground; she wanted to reach for her gun that was at her waist. That thought left her though when the person spoke; that voice belonged to Casey, and Eria knew there was no need to pull a gun on that girl.

She was younger than herself, but Casey could handle herself well enough. She was a good mechanic, always fixing up Eria's bike, and good at getting messages to her as well. It was why she bothered to keep her around; someone needed to do those things and it sure as hell wasn't gonna be anyone else.

Looking back from the ceiling and at Casey, Eria noted for probably the millionth time how well the small girl was able to blend into the dark. It was rather impressive considering how bright her hair was, but that was easily taken care of by some cap that she always wore. Her eyes pierced through the dark pretty well, too. They were a bright blue, a shade she'd never seen on anyone else. Even if the rest of her was covered in shadow those eyes would always stand out.

Her greeting was one that only Casey could give; completely void of respect or concern. It made her smirk slightly and she shrugged. "Well y'know me. I can't pass up a good chance to fuck up their plans and everything." And that was just what she'd done; no doubt it would be all over the underground newswire tomorrow, if it wasn't already.

Now when that message was mentioned Eria would have asked what it was about, who it was from, all that jazz. But before she had the chance to she was cut off and railroaded by the fact that their resident doc, Isaiah, would be less than pleased to find her bleeding from not just one but two gunshot wounds, and as much as she hated to admit it she knew Casey was right and she really wasn't in the mood to put up with him chewing her out.

As she waved that kit Eria rolled her eyes. "Yeah yeah, I guess. Anythin's better than listening to Doc complain and gripe at me." She unzipped the upper half of the jumpsuit and let it slide off her arms, leaving her sitting with only her bra. She then reached down and pulled up the pant leg, revealing her bloody upper thigh. She grimaced slightly as the fabric pulled over it, muttering a few choice words. "Damn, didn't know they'd got me that bad...." She poked the hole, watching as blood continued to flow out in a seemingly endless river.

[CASEY BRIGGS]

As soon as it looked like Eria was going to say yes, Casey moved over to the light switch and flicked them on. They weren’t exactly bright, but it was better than trying to do something like this in the almost complete dark of the room with the lights off. It was good that Eria had realized the necessity of tending to her wounds before they bled any more. God only knew where she’d received the wounds, though likely not in the Underground, which meant she’d walked a fair distance with them. She’d likely already lost more blood than was good for her (not that losing blood was ever a good thing). And though Isaiah would yell at Eria more for not getting them treated, he’d give Casey a piece of his mind too if he found out she’d known about it.

She turned back to face Eria, just in time to see the Resistance leader shrug off the top half of the jumpsuit she was wearing (it looked like a prison jumpsuit, which gave Casey a better idea of what Eria had been up to for the past week or so), leaving her in just a bra. She paused despite herself, blinking a couple of times. Eria was a bit on the thin side – they all were – but she was beautiful. Casey had always thought so. And so strong… Casey shook her head slightly and mentally moved on. She wasn’t going to think about that right now; she needed to focus on getting the bullets out of Eria. Distraction was no good when you were trying to fix something, be it a machine or another human being. Still, she gave a perfunctory swipe over her cheek with her sleeve, knowing there was a grease stain there from working on her bike earlier.

Moving back to the couch, she took a quick look at Eria’s two gunshot wounds in the light and quickly decided that the leg wound was the worst of the two. It didn’t look like the shot had hit an artery, luckily – Eria likely wouldn’t have made it back to the base if that were the case – but it was bleeding pretty profusely. Casey swatted Eria’s hand away as the leader poked at the wound. ”Don’t poke at it, you’ll make it worse.” Duh, was the unspoken addition to the sentence, but Casey didn’t bother adding it aloud. Instead, she dragged another chair over and propped Eria’s foot up on it, then knelt down alongside the leader’s leg and opened the med kit on the floor beside her. It took her a moment to locate the forceps she’d need to pull the bullet out, as well as some stuff to clean the wound with.

She peered at the bullet hole for a moment. ”Looks deep. Fun.” She reached down and pulled her knife from its sheath on her leg, flipping the blade open in a practiced motion and handing it to Eria. ”Might want to bite down on that. This won’t be pretty.” She considered taking her hat off to see better, but then her hair would get in the way, so she left it where it was. She wiped the forceps clean with a little prepackaged alcohol wipe, then, with a glance at Eria to make sure she was ready, went to work digging the bullet out of the wound.

[ERIA HATEM]

The sudden flipping of the lights made her wince slightly; she hadn't seen real light all week almost. The prison had been dark and dreary and there were very few windows in the place, meaning really no sunlight. The lights from the base, even though they weren't that bright at all, were brighter than what she'd been seeing for the past seven days. As Casey moved next to her and put her leg up on the chair, she looked down at the blonde headed girl. How long had it even been since she'd joined the Resistance? Time wasn't something Eria had much of a concept of; never had.

As Casey handed her the knife she took it in her hand, staring at the blade. She looked at her reflection, staring at her brown skin and grey eyes and black hair. She didn't see herself; she saw another woman that had no place being where she should have been instead. Looking back at Casey she gave a small nod and put the blade of the knife between her teeth, biting onto the handle.

As the forceps went into the hole she drew in a sharp breath, feeling the cold metal inside her leg. She could feel them moved around inside her leg and every slight movement was a jolt of pain. She gripped the fabric of the couch and closed her eyes, biting into the handle of the knife to the point where she thought there might be impressions left. But never once did she scream or cry; that wasn't something she did, not even in pain like this.

[CASEY BRIGGS]

Casey could hear the sharp intake of breath as she dug the forceps into Eria’s leg, but she mostly ignored it. This was gonna hurt, and there was nothing either of them could really do about it. They didn’t have enough painkillers to waste on routine stuff like getting bullets out of people. That happened way too often. They had to be practical, and just suck it up when they had to endure something like this. Casey herself had lost track of how often she’d had to have bullets or something like that dug out of her skin, and she wasn’t as old as Eria (though she wasn’t that much younger, either). It hurt like hell, but it wasn’t unbearable.

She didn’t look up again as she worked; all she could do was go as quickly as she could without being careless. It took her a full minute or so to get a good grip on the slippery outside of the blood-soaked bullet, and another half minute to work it carefully out past Eria’s tensed muscles. She plucked a plastic cup from the medkit and dumped the bullet inside; there were bloodstains on the floor already, but might as well make it as easy to clean up afterwards as possible. Setting the forceps down on one of the rags from the kit, she gave her hands a perfunctory wipe and reached for a bottle of alcohol to clean out the wound. ”This’s gonna sting.” No doubt Eria knew that, but habit made Casey say it anyway. She wiped the blood away from the wound with another rag, then poured some of the liquid in to flush it out; god only knew where that bullet had been.

That done, she grabbed a roll of bandages and began to wrap the wound, making sure not to make it too tight or too loose. It took her much less time than digging the bullet out had; less than a minute later, she had finished wrapping it and tucked the end of the bandage in neatly. The multiple layers of bandage kept the blood from showing through, though the wound had still been bleeding sluggishly when Casey began to wrap it. Isaiah could check it over in the morning; for a quick ‘field’ job, it was as well done as possible.

She glanced up at Eria, noting the way the other’s hands had clenched into the fabric of the couch. But she hadn’t let out a single noise, apart from that one sharply drawn breath. Impressive; not even a groan had escaped the Resistance leader. Casey blinked once. ”Your leg’s done. Can’t really do your shoulder unless you sit on the floor.” She couldn’t do it when Eria was sitting on the couch, considering the back of the couch would majorly get in the way. She waited patiently for Eria to move, more or less oblivious to the fact that her hands were more red than bare skin. Wasn’t the first time she’d gotten blood on her hands or clothes.

[ERIA HATEM]

With her eyes closed Eria really didn't have much of a sense of what was going on, but she could feel well enough to have a slight idea. For a minute that seemed to drag on for thirty she felt the cold metal of the forcepts inside the bullet hole, and then she felt the forceps and the bullet being pulled out. That made her grip the fabric tighter, to the point she was certain that it would tear and she'd be left with a couch that looked like it had come straight from a junkyard. Thankfully that didn't happen and one the bullet was out she was able to relax her grip on the couch as well as not bite so hard into the knife.

As the alcohol was poured over the wound she winced slightly but other than that she showed no signs of having it bother her; she'd just gotten a bullet pulled out of her leg so how could a small stinging sensation like that hurt too much? Once the bandadge was wrapped around her leg she let out a small sigh of relief; she just needed a moment or so to get a hold of herself before the next part.

Without looking at Casey she moved from the couch and sat on the ground, her right leg tucked underneath her. Running a hand through her hair she felt the serious need for a cigarette; she'd be sure to grab one once this was all done, and then she'd either relax a bit or listen to the newswire for any info...probably the latter. And of course there was that message, how could she possibly forget about that? Damn, she was back for not even ten minutes and there was already too much to do.

"Alright, let's get this over with," she grumbled as she put the knife blade back between her teeth and closed her eyes. She remained relaxed and did her best to keep from tensing her muscles; she knew that would only make the job harder for Casey which meant it would take her longer to extract the bullet. It wasn't as if this were her first time to have to get bullets pulled out.

[CASEY BRIGGS]

Still no sound from Eria through the whole procedure. It took a moment for her to move down onto the ground as Casey had asked, but that was to be expected. No matter how many times you had to get a bullet dug out, it still hurt like hell, and the one in Eria’s leg had been quite deep. She shifted as Eria moved onto the floor, leg folded beneath her, and moved herself and her supplies around to the other side to get a better angle on the shoulder wound. There was blood on the couch where Eria had been sitting, she noted, but it was so stained already that one more would hardly be noticeable. She reset the materials on the ground next to her to make this second ‘operation’ as quick as possible.

She tried very hard not to be aware of her proximity to the currently shirtless Eria, but it was hard. She had never noticed a preference in herself for one gender over the other, and she’d had a few crushes over the years… but she still got a little short of breath whenever Eria was around. She didn’t know why. Eria was beautiful, but not the most so that Casey had ever seen. She wasn’t particularly kind or anything like that. Very few of the things she’d read about in books when she was much younger applied to Eria, except perhaps altruism and devotion to a cause. But even so, Eria was motivated by revenge, which had always been heralded as a bad thing. So why did Casey always feel this way around her? She shook it off resolutely. No time to be distracted now.

Once she saw Eria bite down again on her knife, she picked up the forceps again and placed a hand on Eria’s shoulder to steady herself and her ‘patient’. Then, with a short ”Here goes,”, she went to work once more, worming the forceps down into the wound as carefully as she could. It wasn’t as deep as the leg wound had been, so it took her considerably less time to find the bullet, get a good grip on it, and pull it neatly out. She wasn’t as fast as Isaiah, for obvious reasons, but she was a decent field medic when the need arose. Hopefully Isaiah would find her work satisfactory, when he inevitably found out about Eria’s injuries.

After depositing the bullet in the same cup as before, Casey went through the same routine, flushing the wound out with alcohol and wrapping it neatly in a bandage. She took a bit more time with the latter than she had before, making sure it wouldn’t impede Eria’s movement more than it had to. That finished, she sat back on her heels and wiped her hands on one of the rags, working at it to try and get the bloodstains off. ”Done,” she said, perhaps unnecessarily. ”You should probably get Doc to check them over in the morning, though. I’m no doctor.” She glanced at the couch, wondering if she should try and get at least some of the blood out. Or did it matter? Probably not.

[ERIA HATEM]

Even if this bullet wasn't as deep, it sure hurt like hell. Maybe it was just because there was still pain coursing through her body from the last extraction, but this one felt even worse. She had to try hard to keep herself from making any noises of pain, any signs that it hurt as much as it did. Showing she was in pain in front of anyone else was a strict no-no in her books. So she did all she could to distract herself from the pain; she pictured Amaria.

Amaria was the woman she'd been with before the Order came and screwed everything and everyone over. She could still picture her white skin, deep brown eyes, and hair as black as night. The image in her mind was the one she always saw: Amaria with that sweet smile on her face, wearing a sun dress of white and lace. It was a calming picture, one that helped her through almost anything and everything.

She almost didn't want to let the image leave her, but when Casey spoke she knew she had to. So reluctantly she allowed the image to fade and she opened her eyes to look down at her newly bandadged shoulder. It hurt, but that was to be expected. Reaching up she grabbed the knife from her mouth and let out a small sigh. "Thanks," she muttered after a moment, handing the knife back to the girl.

Though it may not have been wise Eria stood up, making sure most of her weight was on her good leg. She made her way over to the couch and sat down, wincing as her shoulder was jostled slightly. She looked back at Casey once she was settled in and comfortable. "So, what's this message you got for me? Something important?" It had better be, because Eria hated wasting her time on messages that were less than important.

[CASEY BRIGGS]

She waited again while Eria dealt with the remaining pain, then accepted her knife back as the other handed it to her. ”I’d say anytime, but that might give the wrong impression,” she said in response to Eria’s thanks. She wasn’t really comfortable being thanked for anything, especially something she considered her duty, in a way. Letting the leader of her current ‘gang’ bleed out wasn’t exactly being a good member, now was it? Even if it wasn’t technically a gang, it had the same sort of feel to it, in a way. She hadn’t been in a cutthroat gang for her teenage years. It had been different than that. Casey brought her mind firmly back to the present. She didn’t dwell on the past. It never helped anyone.

She stood up, picking up the cup and the remains of the rags she’d used to clean Eria’s wounds and tossed them into a trash bin across the room with remarkable accuracy. She gave her knife a quick swipe across her pant leg, then flipped the blade closed and tucked it away into her sheath. It was the work of a moment to repack the remaining supplies into the medkit and slide it away under its chair. Then she stood up, dusting off her pant legs absently, and looked over at Eria. She probably shouldn’t be walking yet (God knew Isaiah would likely have had something to say about that), but Casey didn’t say anything. It wasn’t her place to tell Eria what she could and couldn’t do, or for that matter, what she should or shouldn’t do. She didn’t like it when people told her that, so she wouldn’t do it to other people. She herself moved to one of the armchairs and flopped sideways into it, her back resting on one arm and her legs hooked over the other.

At Eria’s question, she slid one hand into her sweatshirt and pulled the release string on her message pocket, pulling out the small tube that contained the message. Retracting her hand from inside her shirt, she tossed the tube onto the couch beside Eria. ”I wouldn’t know if it’s important. The contact wouldn’t say.” A lot of people worked through proxies in the Underworld, since some of them pretended to go along with the New Order up in the ‘normal’ parts of Detroit. They couldn’t afford to be seen talking with people known to be Resistance, even if Casey was less well known than some. She’d made a career out of flying under the radar, after all.

She rubbed a pulled muscle in her calf absently. ”I ain’t looked at it. Not my place.” Leaning her head back on the arm of the chair, Casey pulled the hat off her head with a sigh, letting her blond hair cascade down behind her. It reached the floor, pooling slightly on the ground beneath her head. Apart from combing a couple strands out of her face, she mostly ignored it. It got in the way more often than not, but for some reason the idea of cutting it just… felt wrong. It was the one thing she still indulged in, like Eria and her cigarettes. Didn’t everybody deserve something like that?

[ERIA HATEM]

A sigh of annoyance escaped her; she hated it when contacts decided the play the quiet game with her. Just because she was the "leader" of the largest resistance group in the Underworld, a lot of the contacts she'd acquired through out the years had decided to keep more quiet now. It hadn't been like that before; a couple years back she'd been able to know what the info was the moment it was handed over. Now she had to play this stupid little guessing game, which she hated having to do.

Running her fingers through her hair she popped open the tube and pulled the paper out, tossing the plastic tube to the side. She unfurled the paper and her eyes scanned over the writing. It wasn't anything too fascinating at first; greetings and congratulations on how the effort was going. And then things started to become a bit more her style. Reading over the paper she smirked to herself; this was good stuff.

After she was finished reading she reached into her bra and pulled out a lighter, and once the flame was up she held it under the corner of the paper. It took only a few seconds for the corner to light and then she watched as the fire ate its way up the parchment. Before it could burn her fingertips she let go of it, and before it could hit the ground there was nothing more than ash. She stuck the lighter back into her bra, resting her head on the back of the couch. She thought for a moment before leaning forward, her elbows resting on her knees.

"Apparently my little friend up above has finally come through for me; he promised me months ago that he'd send me the blueprints for the capital, including all the little rooms that aren't in plain view. A couple days from now you'll go and meet with him in the same location and he'll hand them off to you; you're to bring them directly back to me and make sure no one else sees them." She looked at her, her grey eyes piercing into her blue ones. "This is the break I've been waiting for, so don't screw it up. Okay? I'm counting on you."

[CASEY BRIGGS]

Casey mostly just stared at the ceiling while Eria read the letter. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little curious about it, but if it concerned her Eria would tell her. And if it didn’t concern her, then the contents of the message were none of her business. After all, better that she not know all the workings of the Resistance. If she were ever caught, the less knowledge she had, the better off the Resistance would be if they managed to worm any information out of her. Though she was pretty sure she would die before revealing anything, she knew others who had felt the same and had eventually been forced to betray the Resistance.

At the sound of a lighter Casey opened her eyes and glanced over, watching as Eria put the flame to the paper and let it burn, dropping the remains to the ground before it could burn her fingers. Casey’s eyes followed the ashes to the ground, then flicked back up to Eria’s face for a moment, searching it for some sort of reaction to the message. She looked pretty pleased, if anything. Good. That meant it was good news. And that was all Casey needed to know; she would deliver anything she was asked to, but nobody liked being the bearer of bad news, even though Eria never blamed her for bringing bad news back to the base. Somebody had to. She saw Eria stick the lighter back into her bra and abruptly looked back at the ceiling. She’d seen enough scantily clad women in her day, but she didn’t want the awkwardness that might come if Eria thought Casey was checking her out.

But when Eria spoke, Casey looked back over at her, meeting her grey eyes with her own bright blue ones. Blueprints for the capital, huh? Those would be invaluable to their plans, to say the least. Casey couldn’t begin to fathom the sorts of operations they might be able to pull off if they got their hands on those. That made this message seriously good news. At the news that she would be the one to make the pickup, Casey sat straighter, her blue eyes widening slightly. Even though she was the fastest and most reliable message runner in the Underground… a part of her had thought this would be entrusted to someone older. Even though she was a legal adult, and more than capable of taking care of herself, and more trustworthy than many, she was still a teen. To be entrusted with this was a measure of how much faith Eria had in her abilities.

She met Eria’s piercing gaze squarely, her mouth set in a determined line. Part of her mind ran through possible routes, mapping out ways across Detroit’s rooftops from the pickup point to the base. What she would do if she was spotted. What she would do if an ambush was planned, if the information about the hand-off was leaked. The best ways to lose pursuers. Alternate routes if she was injured, to accommodate disabled limbs or impeded movement. Even as a part of her worked through the rooftops she knew like the back of her hand, she nodded once, sharply. ”I won’t let you down, Eria. I’ll get those plans here safely, no matter what.” Even if she was killed doing it, though the thought of that made her stomach flip-flop. She didn’t want to die, but she’d give her life for this if that’s what it took to get the blueprints back. They were too important to the Resistance for her to give this run any less.

[ERIA HATEM]

Eria stared at the girl as she gave her answer, and she knew she was right in chosing her to make this run. She was fast and good, she knew that much, but she was also reliable. Eria knew she would make good on her promise to get the blueprints back to her even if she was killed in the process. The thought didn't disturb her at all; she knew the likelihood of an attack was great and she knew that the chances of her being at least wounded were probably around eighty percent, if not more. If she was killed it would be a loss, but it was something to be expected.

Eria had no idea how many people had died while doing things for the Resistance; hundreds, maybe even more, had lost their lives while doing work for the cause. At first it disturbed her, but by now it was common. If she allowed it to disturb her after this much time she wouldn't still be in her position of power although that didn't really matter to her. She didn't care about being the leader of the group or not; she just wanted to have the chance to kill Dresdin with her own hands.

Leaning back on the couch she let out a small sigh and closed her eyes. She was tired; her body was sore and she was exhausted from her time in the prison as well as the walk back to the base. She was only in her twenties but right now she felt like she had to body of a sixty year old. Her bones ached and her feet were so sore it wasn't even funny.

She rubbed her forehead a bit before sitting forward and glancing around. She knew her cigarettes had to be somewhere in the room. Standing up she limped around the room, looking in every place she could think of. When the living room was clear she went into the kitchen and sure enough it was sitting on the bar along with her lighter. She grabbed the two things and glanced around the kitchen...as long as she was there might as well grab something. She snagged a bag of chips from a cupboard and a cold beer from the fridge; she figured she'd earned one after the crap she'd been through.

Making her way back to the living room she sat on the couch and pulled off the cap from the beer bottle, taking a long drink from it. It was nice and cold and perfect. Setting it down she stuck the cigarette between her lips and lit up, taking a long drag before blowing out a puff of smoke towards the ceiling. She glanced over at Casey. "You want one?" She normally didn't offer her cigarettes to anyone, but the kid kinda earned them; after all, she'd pulled two bullets out of her.

[CASEY BRIGGS]

Casey could see in Eria’s expression that the other believed her promise, and that was enough for her. She rocked back slightly, eyes going distant for a moment as she continued to map out possible courses in her head. Maybe she wasn’t the most educated girl, but she knew her rooftops, and she knew her machines. Not that the latter would come in handy in this case. She was naturally smart, and had been running the roofs of Detroit just about every day for years. She could barely remember what it was like to walk around on the ground like a ‘normal’ person, though she still occasionally took her bike out for a spin. That girl was too damn pretty to be left rusting in a garage all the time.

She glanced up again, momentarily snapped out of her thoughts, as Eria got up off the couch and started to walk around the room, checking in drawers and under furniture and a bunch of other places. Casey watched her for a moment, vaguely curious as to what she was looking for that was worth getting up with her leg injured. Apparently whatever Eria was looking for wasn’t in the living room, because after a couple minutes of looking she went off into the kitchen. Casey shrugged to herself and resumed her sideways position in the chair, chewing on a hangnail absently as she thought over plans and escape routes and the like. This wasn’t something she could just wing. She had to plan ahead, or risk not making it back with the message. And having never failed to deliver a message before, Casey wasn’t about to start with this one. Not something this important. Not only would she never be trusted with a message again, she likely wouldn’t forgive herself for it. No, she wouldn’t screw this up. She couldn’t.

By the time Eria came back in, Casey had a good deal of the planning done in her head, the fastest, most efficient routes in such and such a situation mapped out and set in her mind. She would likely run a few of them over the next few days, particularly if her other message duties took her near to the routes anyway. She wanted to have no surprises from the routes, so that she could concentrate on avoiding pursuit if there was any. Though, with any luck, the hand-off would go down without a hitch. Not likely, though, and Casey hadn’t lived on the streets as long as she had by being absurdly optimistic. She had to plan for the worst, and hope for the best. That was how she had always done it, and it had worked for her so far.

She noted the things in Eria’s hands as the leader came back into the living room. A beer bottle, chips, a lighter, and a package of cigarettes. The cigarettes were probably what Eria had been looking for, Casey decided, since looking around in the living room for beer or chips wasn’t exactly logical. She wasn’t much of a drug person herself, be it the sort you drank, smoked, injected, snorted, whatever. She’d seen what it did to other people in the past, seen the kind of wasteoids that came from drug abuse, and she wanted no part of it. Not that she had anything against people who drank or smoke; it just wasn’t her thing. So, when Eria offered her a cigarette, she shook her head. ”Nah. Not my thing.” She ran her fingers through her hair absently, picking out tangles as she found them. She could go for some chips, but if she got hungry enough she’d go get them herself. So she didn’t say anything more.

[ERIA HATEM]

Eris shrugged at her response; she was a bit surprised that Casey didn't smoke, considering the majority of everyone else di, but whatever. It was her choice and it didn't bother Eria none. It just meant that she didn't have to share. She took another long drag from her cig, blowing a stream of smoke up at the ceiling and watching as it slowly disappeared. Honestly cigarettes were the least harmful drug she'd done in her years.

Of course it was still harmful, but it wasn't as bad as crack or heroin or something. She'd done it all; LSD, ecsticy, even stuff that she didn't even know what the hell was. When she was offered something she didn't turn it down because being under the influence of any drug was better than dealing with the shitty reality. Although she'd been into all that before things had really gone to shit, she still had things she wanted to escape even then. Only difference was that before she ran from things; now she faced them head on without giving a damn about the dangers.

Grabbing the chips she stared down at the bag; she'd unconsciously grabbed barbeque. Those had been Amaria's favorite flavor. Wordlessly she tossed the bag to Casey before leaning her head back and closing her eyes, her cigarette dangling from her lips. "I'm not as hungry as I thought; you can have them. If you don't want them then either put them away or leave them there for someone else to take care of." Eria had never been one to care about things like chips being left out.