Paranoia ;;DJ;;

[Nelly]

Stick to the shadows. Don’t cry – keep your cool, and they won’t find you. Don’t be conspicuous. Don’t be a baby. Don’t cry… Don’t cry…

The child’s inner chanting didn’t quite bring comfort, nor did it help her control her rapid breathing. Her feet carried her through dark streets, a fresh new wave of tenderness with each step – the result of roaming this impossible labyrinth for hours. The inky sky above her was alight with faint stars and a crescent moon, and the looming shadow of the Palace was black against it. She shivered; just the simple mental reference of the Palace, especially the Prison Fortress, chilled her to the bone.

Come to think of it, she was already shaking slightly due to the crisp air. The night was far from warm. Her sweater was thin, and did little to nothing as for keeping her warm. Its purpose was another matter entirely. The only light (not considering the strange crystal necklace that nestled snugly into the hollow of her neck) illuminating off of the tragically unpreserved walls was from the trashcan-retained bonfire that she found herself huddled so desperately close to. Not many people were about, but the red soldiers still watched the sleeping city. When one so much as glanced her way, she sank back into the long shadows among the walls.

Eventually, little Noel grew tired, and her eyelids became heavy with much needed sleep. She yawned quietly. With a quick glance around, she shook herself back to awareness. She’d find somewhere to sleep. Yes, a nice deserted building with maybe an old sofa to sleep on.

Hastily, Ellie wrapped her arms around herself and hurried through the Slums. Before long, she'd found a building front with a boarded-up door. A couple of the wooden planks came off easily when she tugged on them hard enough. Noel slipped through the gap, unsnagged her jacket from the nail it had caught on, and dusted herself off. Ignoring the single white feather that fell lightly to the ground in the doorway, she yawned again. A quick glance around told her the room was empty except for a staircase. So she stole onto the second floor, where a whole hallway of doors opened up to her. She opened a random door, where she saw an old, uncovered mattress shoved into the corner of the dark room. "That'll do," She said to herself. Her voice, though soft, seemed way too loud in the thick silence that hung there. Nonetheless, Ellie sighed gratefully and sauntered over to it, shrugged out of her jacket, and curled up on the mattress.

And even considering how exhausted she was, she found that she couldn’t sleep. Every tiny sound made her jump like cat in a dog kennel. She half shrieked when she heard a whispering above her, only to open her eyes to see tattered curtains billowing in the chilling wind that drifted into the broken window. So Ellie gave up on sleep and pulled herself up against the wall and wrapped her arms around her knees and just sat there in silence, trying to shrug away the constant feeling of paranoia that gnawed at her mind.

[Darkjak87]

He moved silently, quickly, under the cover of darkness.

He was reporting in. A mission. It would only be him. That was all he knew.

It was cold. Very cold. But the night's chill had no grip on the soldier, as his Kevlar-lined armor was like a blanket around him.

He stopped. He stopped to look up at the KG fortress towering above him.

The night was cold, but the trail was hot. He was closing in, he could feel it.

The building was a sign of oppression and fear as much as it was power and protection.

He was using the cover of darkness. Moving in the shadows, to avoid notice. His black armor made the perfect camouflage in this darkest of nights.

He entered the fortress, taking a moment to relish in the heat, before continuing forward.

He halted, for just the barest of moments, when he heard a slight rustle in the night. A man clad in an overcoat, not noticing him, moved quickly, probably off to his home after a late night. The soldier waited for a few more moments after his footsteps faded.

He entered Krimzon Guard Central Command, a large, bustling center of activity in the center of the fortress. Guards, warrant officers, secretaries, cubicles, and computers. He did not pause in his walk, as the man had seen it many times before.

The man continued walking, making use of his suit's night vision equipment to enlighten his path.

His journey continued for only a moment longer, as he stopped outside the Briefing Room of Special Operations Command

His orders still rang clearly in his head, running through his mind again and again to constantly remind him of his goal. His drive. His purpose.

He entered the room, and snapped to attention, as Lieutenant General Issac Drekker stood calmly in front of him, his hands behind his back, with an expression that clearly showed that this was a time for all seriousness. Only one other person occupied the room, a man in armor identical to his own, who served as the General's protector.

He still remembered his incredulity at them, his disgust at what was viewed as a waste of his talents.

"Staff Sergeant James Zrion reporting, sir!" Zrion barked.

"At ease soldier."

Zrion relaxed, if only slightly.

The man hid himself in the shadows of a nearby alley, as he heard a pedestrian moving past. As he waited, he continued to muse the circumstances of his mission.

"The KG have a very unique situation on their hands at the moment, and our superiors felt that we needed a man with...Unique skills. I offered them my best man for the job."

Zrion frowned. The best? But surely the General had seen his latest scores for the monthly Squad Level Stimulated Combat Excercise. Even he had been disappointed.

After the night was quiet once again, he continued forward on his quest, keeping in the shadows as he had before.

"I know what you're thinking soldier. But trust me, I know your potential. Your drive and determination are like nothing I've ever seen. And your specialty is exactly what is needed here."

That got Zrion thinking. He had two specialties. His 'official' specialty, and the one that appeared on his file, was stealth and tracking. He considered himself to be quite good at that, and so far he had never failed a mission. His other 'unofficial' specialty that few knew about, was the fact that he was an ecoist. A master yellow eco user, and reasonably good with red eco, Zrion typically used these skills only when absolutely necessary.

The man paused in his search to gaze down at his hands. His eco abilities. They were his greatest power, but also his greatest shame. The Baron had implemented a massive search for all eco users in the city to be experimented on for his weapon projects. He had been devastated. Certain it would be the end of his career, Zrion lived in fear for several weeks, thinking that every day would be his last. Before he was arrested. Before he was sent to go through God-knew-what. But Drekker saved him when he discovered the ability, and worked out a deal with the KG leaders. In exchange for the unlimited use of Zrion's talents in the Special Operations Force, Zrion would still have his freedom and be able to continue to serve in the KG. The price was that he had to conceal these powers at all costs. If he were found out, the KG would have no choice but to arrest him, as even Praxis had no knowledge of his powers.

"Your skill at stealth and tracking is of utmost necessity here. Your talents with eco are an added bonus, as we have a general idea of what to expect here."

Zrion closed his eyes for a moment as he considered. It sounded serious. He opened his eyes again, and looked at Drekker. "Sir, I think I am up to it, whatever it is."

Drekker allowed a small smile. "Of course you are Zrion. After all, I chose you."

His expression hardened, and he closed his fists. He would not fail. He again began walking.

"Your mission, Staff Sergeant, is to track down, and capture, alive, a 16 year old girl."

Zrion froze. "Could you repeat that sir? I think I may have misheard you."

The General's face hardened. "You heard me Zrion, but you didn't let me finish. She's a tricky one. She's crafty, and so far she's eluded all the Krimzon Guard patrols. We think she may be armed, but reports from the Prison Guards have stated that she is very timid, and unlikely to use weapons."

But Zrion barely heard him. He couldn't believe it! All that talk of his talents being needed, and this being an important mission...It was a fluke! God, what had he done? What had he done that deserved putting him on the worst missions, that only the most useless of the Special Operations KG were sent on?"

The man appeared at another alley, only this one wasn't deserted. Three men, homeless and poor by the look of them, were all lying and sleeping around a barrel, a dying fire burning inside it. The soldier toyed with the idea that they may have seen his target, and he decided to go for it. After all, he had found in his experiences that the homeless, or at least the sane ones, could be a wealth of information if...persuaded.

"...Zrion!" He jerked, as he was brought from his musings to look up into General Drekker's face. He wasn't happy.

"Are you listening soldier?" he demanded. "I'm not talking for aerobic exercise here, so you had damn well better listen, am I understood?" Zrion nodded sheepishly. Just because Drekker had taken him under his wing didn't mean he wasn't tough.

"Now, soldier, since I have your attention, may I continue?" His voice was softer now, perhaps realizing how ridiculous the mission sounded so far, but his voice was still tough.

"Yes sir." He was ashamed of himself. He had panicked, and he hated himself for it. He shouldn't have let himself slip up like that.

"Good. Now as I was saying, this girl is very crafty. She's armed, but timid, and she may or may not have limited eco abilities. This is why we need your talents here." Ah, so that was why.

He quickly moved to the nearest man, asleep, and one of the many that Zrion had questioned that night. He shook him gently, attempting to wake him. The man groaned, but rolled over to look at him. He froze, as he could see the color of the soldier's armor in the firelight. "Shh!" Zrion hissed. "Follow me. You're not in trouble, I just need to ask you a few questions."

The man nodded, obviously terrified, but stood up. Zrion led the way, the man following, still rather groggy from being awoken, but went with the soldier. Zrion walked further down into the alley, and around the corner. After verifying that the place was empty, Zrion turned to the man.

"Now, I'm looking for someone. A girl. About 15 or so. Wearing a sweater, jeans, or maybe a trench coat. She's about 5 foot three inches, blue eyes, thin body, and blonde hair. Heart shaped face. She may have some...Unusual features." In his mind, he meant the wings that Drekker had told him about. But he didn't feel like releasing that information.

We've been told that she escaped from the fortress several hours ago. We're not sure how she did it yet, but she's obviously nothing to sneeze at. We recovered her during one of our Wasteland patrols a few months ago. Normally we would have offered her citizenship, but she had some...Unusual features and the Baron decided that a few experiments would be a good payment for saving her life." Drekker's face hardened at the last part. He was well known for his hatred of Praxis' experiments, and Zrion couldn't help but to share his sentiments.

The homeless man thought for a few minutes, before he began to recall. "I'm not guaranteeing anything, but I think that I MAY have seen a girl like that in here just a few hours ago. Down there, in fact. She left, went down that way" he gestured in the general direction that Zrion had been going before. "My guess is that she was either looking for a place to sleep, or heading home, one or the other." A grim smile from the soldier. Finally, some luck.

Zrion nodded. "Alright, that's all. Can you show me exactly where she was?"

The man gestured for him to follow, and he did so, keeping close.

"General, if I may ask, what 'unique features' did she have that made her so valuable to the Baron?"

Drekker shook his head sadly. "Staff Sergeant, I have to order you not to reveal this information, both as mandated by High Command and as a personal request."

Zrion nodded.

"Simply put soldier, she has wings."

Zrion stopped at the place where had been sleeping, and silently knelt down. He glanced at the man. "Alright, you can go. Thank you for your help." As the man left, Zrion couldn't help but to feel some pity.

However, he focused on the matter at hand, examining where she had apparently lain. His eyes searched the ground, before he spotted a glimmer of white on the ground, reflecting the moonlight and catching his eye. He reached down, and gingerly picked it up, bringing it up to eye level and examining it.

It was a feather, and a large one at that. He couldn't help but to admire it's beauty, but he focused on the more important things. This feature showed that she had been here. And now he knew which way she went. He closed his fist around the feather, and stood up again, before continuing on his way.

He was shocked. That was to say the least. "Wings, sir?" He sounded skeptical.

"I know it's difficult to believe soldier, but it is true. I have a picture for you, to help in your mission." Drekker walked to a table at the side of the room, and picked up the picture. He walked back, and handed the picture to Zrion, with a warning look in his eye.

Frowning, Zrion looked at the picture, and quickly felt a burning rage.

A girl, beautiful, but terrified, was clad in chains in a cell. It seemed to be pulled from security footage. She was thin, almost skeletal, and seemed to show the time that she had spent in prison. Zrion clenched his fist around the picture, crumpling it. This? This was the Baron's price for rescue? However, he calmed himself. He took a deep breath, and tried not to think about the fact that he would be bringing her right back to that place.

He instead studied the picture, and took in the details of her appearance. She did, indeed, have wings. It was hard to believe, but it was in front of his eyes. He handed the picture back to Drekker, after memorizing it. "I understand my mission, General. I am to capture the target, uninjured, by any necessary means. I am to bring her back here, to be returned to the fortress. Am I correct sir?"

Drekker nodded. "Indeed you are Staff Sergeant. Take any weapons you may need from the armory, and begin your mission. Dismissed."

Zrion stood in front of the building. It was uninhabited, and relatively close to where he had questioned the homeless man. It was here that he expected to find the girl, or at least some traces of a past presence. The door was boarded, but a few planks had been yanked away. Not big enough for him, but just wide enough for a very thin person. He examined the boards carefully, before he spotted something. A piece of cloth, hanging from the sharp end of a bent, rusted nail. It was small, very inconspicuous, but it matched the color of the sweater he had seen in the picture. She had been here, there was no doubt. He set about removing the rest of the planks on the door, as slowly and quietly as possible, and cursing under his breath whenever he made a noise. Hopefully, she wouldn't realize he was here until it was too late.

With the gap now large enough, Zrion quietly slipped into the building.

He reached behind himself, and gripped his AK-47, which up until that point had been slung over his shoulder. He brought the weapon forward, and pulled it up to his shoulder, safety off and bolt cocked. He took in his surroundings, and began to quietly and carefully search the building.

[Nelly]

Noel flinched each time the old floors creaked. She could’ve sworn she’d heard footsteps… or maybe it was just a big rat thing. She failed in convincing herself that it was nothing to worry about. Everything was fine...

So cold… and dark…

She glanced around nervously, thoroughly unconviced.

What was this place? There was too much pain… So tired.

Ellie shut her eyes, trying to block out the eerie sounds echoing through the empty house.

She looked at her hands. They were fastened by the wrists with heavy shackles, as were her feet. Her whole body was caked in dirt and God knew what else.

Instead, she focused on herself. Her whole body hurt… but her wings were the worst. She didn't dare move them.

Little Noel glanced over her shoulder to see why she couldn’t move her wings—and cried out in horror. A double-barred spear had been shoved right through the mid sections. And because they had been folded neatly in on themselves, both the greater and greater primary coverts had been skewered. Blood stained her white feathers and pooled at her feet.

Noel didn’t quite mind, though. Nothing was eternally damaged. She would heal. Eventually. She could forgive and forget… like most people wouldn’t. Well, she would still – under any matters – be deathly terrified of that man. His Voice still rang in her ears.

Her awareness was still impaired, the numbness of anesthesia still tingling strangely in her veins. She could only see a few feet in front of her. She could see that she was in a tiny room with one window. That window was in an airlock door. The only other thing in there was a camera, wired stealthily into one of the dark corners near the ceiling. As soon as she saw it, she knew she was being watched, but she tried to ignore it. Instead, her eyes locked with the auburn ones that also watched her through the window.

“Ah, so you have recovered after all,” said a static-y Voice from the intercom beside the door. Noel saw the cold amber eyes narrow. She didn’t say anything.

Ellie didn’t want to think about what had happened only hours before hand, didn't want to think about him, but the fresh memory came rushing into her head.

“One of my Wasteland patrols discovered you, unconscious. Quite close to Spargus, in fact.” She heard a humorless chuckle. “I’m surprised those dogs they call their Warriors didn’t find you.”

She couldn’t summon the courage, or strength for that matter, to ask where she was and why she was there. But he answered for her.

“So they played nice and brought you back to Haven City. Both Praxis and I decided we want to keep you as our ‘guest’ for a while. For different reasons, of course.” He laughed again, this time sounding slightly insane. Guest? That was bull—

The man left before she could say anything.

Ellie tried to think about something else, to focus her attention on the hushed, muffled noises she was starting to hear. They were small and she could barely hear anything, but they were definitely there.

Slowly, very carefully, she rose and stepped lightly off the old mattress. The agonizing memory still danced around in her conscience.

Hours passed. And eventually, those hours turned into days. The days turned into weeks, turned into months. Her arms and shoulders were covered in bruises, the worst ones from the times she’d struggled away from the needles they’d shoved into her flesh and either taken her blood or tainted it with their own vile solutions. She’d eaten rarely, and she felt like any sudden movement would snap a bone.

The man had spoken to her few times more, with her only having spoken little two-word responses like ‘Yes, sir’ or ‘No, sir.’ She didn’t want to piss him off. He was already mean enough. At one point he’d introduced himself. She never gave him her name.

But then, the most sickening thing happened.

Ellie squeaked quietly when her foot set down on a loose floorboard. Gritting her teeth, she quickly crossed the room, bloody wings folded stiffly behind her. She peeked around the corner and down the hall.

She didn’t see anything at first, but when she saw a shadow move from around the corner, she ducked back into her room, her heart fluttering. She didn’t want to be found, to be brought back to Erol…

The door suddenly opened with an airy hiss. Noel glanced up, blinking past the blinding brightness that poured through. A man stood there, a black silhouette against the light behind him.

“Don’t say a word,” he hissed, making haste to cross the small room and start working on her restraints. She was confused. Who was this man? His Voice sounded so familiar…

Then it hit her, like a brick from the sky (not that there was any sky around). It was Erol’s Voice, minus the feedback from the intercom. He had those same eyes, she noticed vaguely. Pretty, auburn, goldish eyes. She sat there silently, confused, scared, as Erol pulled the locked bars from her wings. It their place, a gaping hole was left right through the skin and muscle.

Erol helped her up. Then he suddenly grinned, and he shoved her against the wall. She cried out in pain as her ravaged wings were smashed behind her.

The red soldiers were so scary, so violent. She couldn’t stand the sight of them. They had no will or thought, no emotions. Only orders. And she had no idea if anyone at all, let alone the whole city, had been alerted of her escape. She wondered what Erol would do once he got her back. She shivered.

Erol held her wrists against the wall above her head, and she could only give feeble little struggles when he forced a kiss onto her lips. Ellie tried to scream, to call for the prison guards, but no sound came. The little red light on the camera wasn’t blinking. It wasn’t on. Erol had this planned out.

“You have intrigued me,” he murmured into the kiss, “…for so long. I figured you might need a rescuer.” He grinned callously, a dark glint in his eyes. “Praxis has had his fun with you. Now it’s my turn.”

Ellie ran to the broken window and tried its hinges. They whined loudly, but wouldn’t budge. It would make far too much noise to open it or simply break it even further so that she could get through.

She looked around, trying to control her breathing. Her eyes found a door that somewhat blended into the peeling wallpaper.

She squirmed, eyes huge. This guy was what, like twenty-something? Freaking pedophile!

This being her last hope, she opened the door. It was a closet. Only a couple dusty old coats hung there, but she pushed them aside and closed the door silently behind her.

As soon as Erol released her wrists to hold her by the waist, she lurched to the side, out of his grasp and away from him. Noel gasped heavily, clearly dazed, and just plain terrified half to death. The commander stepped toward her, still grinning. Fighting with all she had, she lifted the heavy double-barred restraint that had impaled and immobilized her wings for so long, and flung it at him.

She didn’t stay and watch and see what happened after that. Instead she took off to the nearest air duct and yanked it open. The alarm was never set off. She made it out of there and to the streets before long.

Ellie curled up in the far corner, making an effort to calm her breathing. She couldn't be heard. She counted, One-two-three, one, two, three. One. Two. Three. One… two… three. Warm tears had spilled down her filthy cheeks, and were falling onto her knees.

She clutched the pouch that hung on the leather string around her neck, telling herself that at this time it was all out necessary to use the dagger that was sheathed within it. The only light in the tiny dark closet was the crystal that hung beside the white feather on her necklace.

Noel waited in silence, wishing to be anywhere but there at that moment. She continued to try to comfort herself, but hardly prevailed. She was there, and so was somebody else.

[Darkjak87]

His movements were quiet, careful and slow. Anything to prevent making noise. His rubber-soled boots made little noise as he almost tiptoed through the house. He needed to find his target, and he needed her alive. For that to happen, she could have no time to escape, arm herself, or hopefully even wake up. He would open doors very carefully, before poking the muzzle of his rifle in through the crack, seeing if she was there. Upon finding nothing, he would then open the door all the way and advance in, aiming carefully down the sights as he swept the room. He looked thoroughly, checking every room for movements. His helmet's Night Vision was a huge advantage, as he was able to see everywhere with ease.

He despised being alone. He knew it was necessary, as a squad for backup would only slow him down and make more noise. As long as he was alone, as long as he was quiet, he would have the advantage of surprise.

He still wouldn't mind having someone else to watch his ass while he searched.

He heard a noise, a thud, and his heart jolted.

He spun around, while at the same time dropping into a kneeling position, with the elbow of his supporting hand resting on his knee for support, to steady his rifle. With a snarl on his face, he was already aiming down the sights in the direction of the noise, ready to release a round from his magazine.

A cat. That was all it was. A tabby, who had apparently been sleeping in the room before Zrion had intruded on it's rest. With a hiss, the cat darted out of the room, and Zrion allowed it to go, glaring at it in annoyance.

His rapid reaction would have made anyone proud. However, Zrion knew that for all the noise he made getting himself into position, it was more likely than not that his target knew he was there. Stealth hadn't been his number one priority just now.

He frowned. Since it was possible he had been detected, speed should be his priority now. Otherwise, he risked her escaping.

He stood up from his position, and began to advance quickly, not paying attention to the fact that his now heavy footsteps were making considerable noise.

He continued to check room after room, giving each a sweeping glance before checking any rooms that branched off of it. It felt like he had searched the entire building before he finally had some luck.

On his Night Vision, a white object stood out against the greenish tint. Another feather. He picked it up, and looked closely. The right side of the feather was perfect, just like the others he had found. The left on the other hand was uneven, with parts of it seeming to be missing, or damaged.

So, that was a plus for him. It was possible that his target was injured. He wouldn't bet money on it but the odds were in his favor.

His confidence renewed, Zrion continued to advance down the hall, rifle ready, and thrust open doors, now making no attempt at all to be silent.

It was one of his favorite tactics. When searching a building, being as loud and fast as possible could make the target believe that there were more soldiers than there actually were, therefore making them fearful and less likely to put up a decent fight.

At the end of the hallway, Zrion reached the last door. She had to be here, it was the only place he hadn't checked. With a deep breath, and a shout, Zrion flung the door open and advanced into the room. The muzzle of his rifle swept the apparently empty room. He looked suspiciously at the sofa for a moment, before moving quickly to check behind it.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Now very frustrated, Zrion considered kicking the innocent piece of furniture, but decided against it. Emotions in combat always lead to defeat. He took a breath to calm himself, and looking around the room again. The window was down, and when he checked it, it was jammed. He hadn't heard footsteps, so the target must still be here.

His eyes found the door, to what most likely was a closet. His eyebrows furrowed. There. She had to be.

He walked slowly and cautiously, in a combat stance, towards the door. It was probably a closet, so he decided to place his rifle gently on the floor. It's length would only slow him. He would disable her in hand-to-hand combat, or with his pistol, if necessary.

With a final cry, Zrion threw the door open, and shifted into a perfect stance for hand-to-hand fighting.

And then he waited.

[Nelly]

As the girl sat there in a terrified waiting, she heard a dull thud, somewhere in the hallway or one of the rooms. That noise was followed by another, which was certainly not random. Somebody was definitely in the building, and they were searching the rooms. She had left too much evidence of being there. She wished she'd been more sneaky about all of it.

When she heard real footsteps, heavy and metalic, her heartbeat hitched and fluttered rapidly. She was shaking, trembling, as if she knew this was the end of the road. And it probably was. There was no time to run, to escape and flee, because the sounds were coming closer, and whoever they belonged to was coming down the hall, checking each room as they passed them. She bit her lip, so hard that she drew blood. Think. Think!

The window! Yes, that was it. There was no need to be quiet now, no need to hide. She just needed to escape. She could break the window and hopefully jump safely, because her wings were of no use as they were. She'd probably left a smudge of blood here and there. They hurt so bad, but they were the least of her worries right now. Ellie got up and had her hand on the closet doorknob when suddenly the door to the actual room burst open, a battle cry announcing somebody's entrance.

It was quiet for a moment. She heard heavy boots crossing the room, and a shadow blocked out the moonlight that poured through the window and between the cracks in the door. Noel, with a cold sinking feeling, sat back and pressed herself to the wall, burying her face in between her knees. And then the door was yanked open with another shout.

Whimpering to herself, Ellie squeezed her eyes shut and waited for further pain, or perhaps just black unconsciousness. Her tears fell endlessly, staining her already filthy jeans. When nothing happened, she slowly lifted her head to look up. She tightened her hold on the dagger sheath, but didn't pull it out. She knew she had no chance.

Noel just stared at the man who stood there, craming herself as far back as she could. She didn't, and couldn't say anything. The man was dressed in black armor, looking vaguely like a red soldier. Her big watery eyes never left the man. He's come to take me back, she thought in sheer terror. Hell, she'd rather have him kill her. That was the best alternative right now. She didn't want to return to Erol. No. Never.

But he's come to take me back.

[Darkjak87]

Zrion was taken aback, to say the least. He had known she would be there, but he had expected her to scream, in either rage or fear, or try to attack him. He was completely prepared for the possibility of being attacked. If she had attempted to do so, he would have ducked, and caught her by the abdomen. He would then have tossed her backwards over his shoulders, and he would come around with his pistol out and pointed at her face, and demand her surrender.

Yes, he had had it all planned out. Every detail, every possibility.

But he had not prepared himself for this.

A crying, fearful, and frankly terrified girl. His eyes ran across her body. Thin and skeletal, just like in the picture. His eyes spotted the slight tear in her sweater that had marked her presence in the building with a small thread on a nail. Such a small insignificant thing had completely given her away. After taking in her appearance, his gaze traveled to her wings. Large, and beautiful, but tattered and injured. It made Zrion sad to look at them, and his anguish at the damaged beauty of them was difficult to comprehend, even to himself.

He shook his head clear of those thoughts, and stood up a little straighter. He left his combat stance, and instead stood tall, upright, his usual posture. He crossed his arms.

"I think you know why I'm here." His voice was calm, not warm, but not cold either.

"The question remains. Are you going to come quietly, or am I going to have to force you? I don't know if you're familiar with my organization, but I'm one of the best KG the city has to offer. Resistance is futile, that I can personally guarantee. So why don't you take that dagger from around your neck, hand it over, and we can do this more easily for the both of us." His expression was unidentifiable under the mask, but one could assume it was neutral, like his voice.

Despite his facade, on the inside Zrion was struggling. He presented himself to the world as a neutral, mindless man who followed his orders and fought for the city. He was always one of the nicer KG, but his kindness never extended far beyond common courtesy. However, he did have a heart, and right now it was fighting with his mind.

His mind was the logical side, demanding that he arrest this girl, and throw her back into prison without a second thought. They were his orders, and they would help him live longer. That made sense.

However, his heart was battling just as furiously. Just look at her! it screamed. What kind of monster are you to take her back to that place? All for some orders? What's wrong with you!

It was a difficult conflict, to say the least. There was no doubt in his mind that, if he went through with this, he would hate himself for much time to come. But at least for that time he could say he had followed his orders.

Most would consider it a choice. But to Zrion, it wasn't.

Orders were orders.

[Nelly]

For a few moments, she was unresponsive. Noel didn’t quite know what to make of this man. If he was one of the red soldiers, why hadn’t he just seized her without any exchanged words? That’s what his colleagues would have done, and she knew it. That’s how the prison guards had treated her. She noticed the large firearm that had been set onto the floor a few feet away. She hoped he wouldn’t suddenly decide it would be fun to use. Her gaze never left the expressionless mask that made him seem so unfeeling.

Noel’s presumptions about this officer melted into pure uncertainty. Nevertheless, she didn’t like him, she feared him, and she did not want to talk to him. She wasn’t sure if she could recover her voice, either. Damn… Had she really forgotten how to speak?

She hardly gave him a response when he told her to accept arrest and to not resist, but when she was told to give up her dagger, she shook her head vigorously. Both hands, pale and gaunt, reached up and clasped around it, holding it close to her chest.

The relic had a gift been from her Aunty before she’d died, passed down in Cherokee history from mother to daughter. And Aunty had been the only person in the world she could take as an excuse for family. She had promised to keep it close, and use it only when needed. But in this case, she couldn’t. First off, she hated causing pain to people, however nasty, and secondly, it would have no effect on the armor, if she managed to get that far. The officer seemed like a very strong man, and she had no doubts of it.

But what could she say? That she didn’t want to go back? That she’d rather die? That was probably what they all said.

Ellie stayed where she was, not speaking. Her hands never moved from the sheath around her neck. Naturally, she took to the defense as she always had. Her bleeding wings came around to shield her body, though four nasty holes gaped, up to three inches wide. Her whole body was trembling. She would put up a fight if she had to, but it wouldn’t last long.

Noel wouldn’t generally call this ‘resistance,’ per say. Nor was it childish defiance. It was simply a last effort. If she went back, she would surely not last for another week. Be it because of Erol’s… cruelty, or due to her obvious need of medical attention, little Ellie would die within a very minimal amount of days.

She didn't want to return. Not to Erol, not to the Prison. No.

[Darkjak87]

Zrion simply continued to stand there, unmoving, with his arms crossed. She was a stubborn one, he could tell, but her fear was unmistakable. I can't blame her really, he thought to himself. I wouldn't want to go to the fortress either. Which is exactly why I have to do this.

Zrion didn't say anything for the longest while. He wasn't worried at all about losing his focus on her to think. He was blocking the only way out, and his armor was resistant to bullets up to 7.62x39mm in the torso, from a decent distance at least, and he really doubted that the dagger could breach it. Nonetheless, he couldn't exactly say he was comfortable allowing his target to have a weapon.

So he just stood there, calmly, knowing that he was untouchable, as he studied her. She was very protective of her dagger, that was obvious. He didn't know if it was because it was her only defense, or because it held its own personal significance to her. Well, he could sympathize with that last one. He cast a fleeting glance towards his rifle. It had been his father's.

He shook those thoughts out of his head. Now was not the time for grieving.

"You know this will end the same way, whether you resist or not. You're going to the fortress, and I don't want to hurt you. Really, I don't. But I will have to apply force if you don't move, and you won't like that."

He was bluffing, to a point. He would have to use force if need be, but he was under explicit orders not to harm her, as she was still needed.

Anger flashed through his mind at that thought.

That she was still needed.

How horrible.

But it mattered little. He decided to take a more gentle approach. Anything to get her to move. Perhaps if he could get her to trust him, just a bit, or even to see that he was just not a typical KG soldier, then she might be more willing to comply.

Not really one for small talk, Zrion decided to ask a question first. "You seem to be very protective of that dagger. Why is that?" If he could just find an opening, he could exploit it to gain her trust, or at least something resembling it.

[Nelly]

Ellie flinched when he delivered the indirect threat. She was going back to the prison? Not while she still breathed, she wasn’t. She wouldn’t give Erol the pleasure. Her thoughts skittered around in her head like a hive of bees that had been persistently disturbed. The girl just closed her eyes and tried to shove the officer and the pain and Erol out of her mind. She would center herself, then maybe she could find the courage to make a move.

When the man was quiet for another several minutes, she could almost pretend that he wasn’t there. But then he spoke again, and what he asked of her hit a very emotional spot for her.

Her dagger? Why would he care? What was so important about it? Her eyes opened and she peered at him through battered feathers for a minute. Then she looked down at the sheathed blade in her hands. It was small, and carved into the hardwood hilt were feathery designs. She remembered how her aunt had taught her how to whittle Osage Orange sticks into arrows and what not.

She had been so happy then, being with the only person she loved.

Ellie parted her lips to say something, but hesitated. Why should she tell this man anything? What was he trying to accomplish?

She narrowed her still watery eyes and shut her mouth, trying to be stubborn.

Noel was doing better than she’d planned. But apparently he was being stubborn too. Orders were orders. He wasn’t going to let her be. She bit her lip, feeling that she had no way of getting it this man to understand. After all, he worked under Erol, though he belonged to a different faction than most other red soldiers. A desperate thought slithered into her mind, and she clung to it.

Her gray-blue eyes flickered briefly by the door behind the officer, then the window She didn't want to stay and chat, nor did she want to go with him.

[Darkjak87]

Zrion sighed. She really was stubborn. Timid yes, but determined. He had to admire that, even if she didn't really show her courage. Obviously, it was going to be quite hard to try to gain her trust. Most likely, impossible.

"I see you're going to be a difficult one." He said this quietly. "Despite what you may think, I don't want to do this. I have no vendetta against you, and I have no desire to see anyone like you in prison. But you must understand that I truly have no choice. I have myself, and my friend, to think about. If I fail to do this, then not only will I have shamed the KG, but also my division and the memory of my Father. On top of that I will be thrown into prison myself, and my best friend will probably either be shot, or starve to death in the streets, like he was when I found him."

He was trying to get her to work with him, by opening up slightly. If he could somehow connect with her, by revealing a little about himself, then perhaps she would reveal something about herself, and allow him to sweet-talk her into coming with him peacefully.

But he had another motive for this. Zrion really wasn't a bad guy, and he wanted people to know that. He wanted people to understand that the KG were not all bad, and that he was the exception. He felt stronger about that than most anything else, and perhaps without even fully realizing it, he was going out of his way to try, maybe, just maybe, to get this girl to see him for who he really was.

"I really don't want to hurt you." He said, as gently as possible. "It's just that I have my own problems and concerns. I only want you to understand that I don't want to do this."

He kept his distance though. Getting closer, or moving any moves, would frighten her and likely cause her to attack him with that dagger. He was sincere when he said he didn't want to hurt her, but he was resolute in his belief that he had to do this. To send her back to that place. He really did have no choice.