Fate decides who comes into your life; your heart decides who stays.
"𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑛 𝑜𝑟 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟. 𝐼𝑛 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑠, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑢𝑝 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑎𝑟𝑑."
[X-Men: First Class - X-Men Apo...
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Running from the government is very different than running from the Gods. The former insights paranoia, mistrust, and constant movement; the latter elicits innate reactions that guide your every move and word.
Ria has run for thousands of years. She has stuck to the shadows and to the ever-changing waves of the ocean. The world was never kind to the girl who gave too much and expected nothing in return only to receive less than nothing.
The past few weeks were different. Sure, her own life continues to be in danger, but it's worse. She has never been good with confinement, and the very threat makes her shiver in fear. If she stays still too long, she becomes attached, and the last time she got attached...
The last time she got attached, she revealed herself to the world and threatened the existence of every mutant in Cuba's vicinity.
Lights span the length of the street as Ria hurries down it, constantly looking over her shoulder. Men in dark sunglasses have been following her all day from the elementary school she teaches at to the diner she stopped at for dinner. Something felt different today, just like it did the day they crashed in Cuba.
The men follow her still. Normally, they would be hidden better, but not tonight. Tonight, more and more of them creep out from the shadows until Ria can barely count them. Her strategist's mind had rotted over the years, but perhaps hope is not yet lost. After all, she is a runner. There is always somewhere else to go.
One fun fact about the streets of Miami—there are way too many places to slip out of sight.
They start shooting when she blocks the entire street with a wave of her hand, shimmering green crystal shooting up from the ground a moment before she runs. The barrier will hold them off, but she cannot risk leaving it up for too long lest they get any more information about her.
She slips through the shadows as she has always done. It wraps around her in a comfortable embrace as she searches for a vantage point of some kind—any kind—to look out for possible escapes. If she could get to the ocean, she'd be free.
If it weren't for the helicopters flying overhead.
Damn technology. Things were simpler when the most advanced weapon that existed was a bow and arrow.
Ria is never one to shy away from asking for help, but she still hesitates when she sees the payphone shrouded in shadow. A single quarter burns in her pocket as she considers what to do; shouting echoes through the sky as the thunderous helicopters scour above.
Racing forward, Ria dials the number by heart and waits, anxiously glancing around. She's too exposed here, it'll be a blood bath. Why is no one picking up? Someone is always at that house, right?
