Silvia Stone was a vigilante with only one goal in mind, to give criminals a swift and painful death. As one could imagine, Superman didn't exactly appreciate the bodycount that was mounting. After being thrown into prison, breaking out, and more en...
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Home was supposed to be a haven. It wasn't a place you should be scared to be at. It wasn't somewhere you would think of running from all the time. But Silvia preferred the streets. It felt safer than home. Out there she was always prepared, forever cautious of the dangers that may present themselves...but at home she felt tempted to relax. Letting her guard down for even one second could end badly, especially in Southside where break-ins were the least of her worries.
Silvia slumped down in the living room couch, one of her last remaining guns clasped at her side. The couch, though once might have been beautifully designed, was worn past the point of distress with small tears and holes. The once bright tan colour had been bleached by the sun that streamed in the window, the hue now tinted to a soft beige.
It was, in all honesty, the most uncomfortable thing she had ever had the miserable misfortune of owning, but it had been free so she could hardly complain about it. The urge was there though after spending the last few days laying on its lumpy cushions.
It seemed that she was taking quite a number of breaks lately, and most of it was because of Superman. She couldn't even breath without him rushing in and ruining her contracts. Silvia's determination still hadn't wavered but she hoped that planning her marks a little more carefully would get her back on track...and help her avoid Superman.
The last assassination attempt was burned into her skull. It had gone horribly wrong, and though she blamed Clark for that, she worried that he had been hurt. Silvia hated the idea of innocent people being in the middle of her fights, even if that person was the most agitating person she had ever met.
The thought never left her no matter how many nights passed. Eventually it got to the point where she was considering hacking into government files and finding out where he lived, just so she could go over and check on him. Silvia shook the idea out of her head, even she had a line that she wasn't willing to cross.
The blonde had just found a position on the firm couch that seemed almost tolerable before a knock echoed through her apartment. The girl's gasp of surprise quickly turned into a groan at the knowledge that she'd have to get up. Who could possibly be visiting her at that hour- no, at any hour? She didn't know anyone well enough to expect visitors, and she got her packages sent elsewhere.
Silvia pulled to her feet, holding the gun to her chest and sauntering towards the door. She had no peephole but she did have a crack, one large enough to show the shadow of a man on the other side. Silvia's jaw tensed.
Silvia pushed the chair away from its place holding the door shut. The hinges were still broken and grey as unburnished silver, dull and spotted with years of water damage. Where there should have been some fancy handle was only a square shaft of dark cold metal. She closed her fingers around it but they simply slipped over the coarse edges and came away blackened. Silvia cursed at the slick doorknob and opted to just pulling it open by the corner. The door never closed properly anyway...
