𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡. 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰.
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For as long as she keeps running, death will always follow.
Onyx knows this, but still she...
cloaking / cloaker - the ability to render oneself invisible / someone with the ability to cloak. Anything a cloaker touches, or holds with or on them, is also unseen. They may still be injured in this state however as they still obtain a solid form.
unmasking - the act of returning to a state of visibility
tel-net - (teleportation network) a mode of quick and easy transport that can get you from a to b using teleportation. It functions as a speed-of-light tube or pipeline, entering it as if you would an elevator, pressing what tel-net station you would like to travel to and submitting the required payment. Tel-net services usually vary in price depending on travel distance. In the underbelly they are usually dirty cheap and are often taken over and run by gangs. They can only be used to travel to and from other tel-net stations. Currently there are no tel-net services that link the underbelly with the high city.
the underbelly - the slums of Thunderlash, consisting of tightly woven dirty streets, buildings stacked on top of each other and pollution-filtered light. Due to the absence of law enforcement, crimes such as murder, assault and illegal meta human farming/trafficking are frequent and basically considered legal. However the lack of order means that they are a difficult populace to control, so the government often excludes the underbelly in any form of public opinion whatsoever.
the high city - consisting of the middle and upper class, with majority of residents living affordable and modest lives in a busy and lively metropolitan paradise. -----------------------
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U N D E R B E L L Y - t h u n d e r l a s h c i t y .
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A bloody nose and a black eye.
For all her work, for all the exertion it took to overpower a man several times her size, that was the only thing she walked out with. But it wasn't the worst that had become of her following an assassination. At least it had been successful. Fortunately for her that meant she would live and get to fill her pockets another day.
The photo, evidence of her target's death, sat idly in the pocket inside her coat as she slipped out the back of his apartment and into the graffiti-sprawled laneway. A pistol secured itself in her other pocket.
Cloaking to mask her presence from any onlookers who may have a bone to pick, Onyx left all traces of the man's body to rot back to bone inside his junkie home. For all anyone cared, his corpse would likely remain there until future squatters came across it on their search for a dry place to sleep at night. No one else cared enough to remember there'd been someone living there that hadn't left for weeks. No one cared enough to compile evidence, let alone take the body away for examination, or move it at all. It could stay there for the rest of all time and no one would ever say a word. That certainly made her job swift and easy, not needing to clean it up or obscure any evidence.
