Run For Your Life [Leice]

[Vladimir Stanton]

A raven-haired man was running through the streets, footsteps thudding against the ground. It was funny what adrenaline could do to a person. When fear took over, some of the things humans could do were unimaginable, stuff you’d only see in the movies, like lifting cars of outrunning hideous monsters. It would leave you weak as hell after, but during that moment, that one single moment, you could do just about anything, no matter how impossible you thought it was.

This is where the man’s insane speed was coming from; adrenaline. The substance pumped through his veins as he ran, giving him the strength he needed to escape the vicious corpses, which were now far behind him. Panting, the man finally came to a halt, seeming to realize that he had put more than enough distance between himself and the bloodthirsty creatures that were chasing him. He had long ago left the city behind.

He wore dark colors, covered from head to toe in black. He wasn’t dressed like this to look badass or anything, not like some of the idiots out there who called themselves zombie slayers. His clothing choice had to do with camouflage. Black was a dark color, a shade that helped him blend in with the shadows. Of course, it wasn’t to help him hide from the undead, as they were pretty much blind, having no better vision than a person’s elbow would. It was to keep him hidden from other humans, people that were still alive with functioning brains. They were the real danger out here. They’d turn against each other in a second, stabbing their friends in the back, stealing their food, their supplies, all to save themselves. They were selfish bastards. Not that he thought he was any better.

In fact, it was because of the human scavengers that he was here in the first place. He'd just come from a brawl with a group of them. Now, normally he would be the one to come out for the better, kick everyone's asses and be victorious. However, this time, there had been six of them, and even with his sword he hadn't been able to fend them all off. They'd come seemingly out of nowhere, like a bunch of wolves, swarming him. Stupid fucking kids. They'd knocked his weapon away and then grabbed all his supplies and ran. He'd chased them for a while, shouting insults at them, but then he'd stopped, realizing how stupid he was being.

Sure enough, not long after he'd started shouting, the zombies had come. They were as blind as bats, but their hearing exceeded that of any human. They'd heard his shouts and come out of the shadows, drooling at the mouth, starving like always. Vladimir had been smart. He had ran. The kids, on the other hand, hadn't been so lucky. A few of them had been picked off by the zombies. Watching it had made him feel a little sick, but there was nothing he could do. It was their own damn fault for being so stupid. Besides, they had stolen from him... Did they actually expect him to assist them? Still, even now, he was haunted by their terrified shouts as they called for help, begged and pleaded for their lives.

The dark-haired man finally stopped. He took a few deep breaths, trying to even out his breathing. His lungs were fighting for air, making his chest feel tight. He had been running for a long time now, trying to leave the shouts of the scavengers behind him. He was used to death, to dying, but still... He just wanted to escape. That's why he had ran so far, all the way into the destroyed region of the city. He had just wanted to escape, and escape he had. He was far away now, far away from the dark alleyways of the city. He liked it here better. There were no huge buildings towering in the air. They had all fallen, making the landscape flatter surfaced, making it easier to prepare for an ambush.

He started to walk, suddenly feeling anxious. He should probably keep moving. He needed to find a place to rest for the night, a new hideout. And he needed to find supplies. He had no idea if there'd be any useful crap out here, but he figured he might as well look. He started to shift through the rubble, hoping to find some old weapons, some trash, anything really. Something shiny caught his eye and he bent over, wincing slightly. He touched his hand to his side in reflex and then lifted it to his face. His eyes narrowed as he saw blood. Fuck. He gritted his teeth together, silently cursing the damned kids. One of them must have stabbed him or something. He hadn't even noticed before. Probably because he'd been so angry, so scared. Pissed, he kicked a wall nearby him, only to cry out as his foot hit it the wrong way.

[/blockquote]

[Annaliese LEICE Kilroy]

Outfit

Leice glared at the boys that chased each other through the streets of the District. Part of her realized that they were only trying to brighten up a little bit of their lives. She couldn’t blame them. In such a time, you learned quickly to take a hold of whatever happiness you could find. It was the reason many people she saw in the ghettos had reverted to drugs. It made reality slightly easier to deal with. She understood it. But just because she understood the why, didn’t mean she had to agree with it. Drugs dulled her senses, made her slow. And she had to be fast to live with many of these people. She snorted at her thought. And being such an attractive girl myself, I have to stay on my toes to fight off all these strong men! Yeah, that was only slightly out of character for her to think. It was a good thing no one could hear her. It was embarrassing enough to not be able to control herself when she cried in front of others. But not having a hand on her thoughts? That there was dangerous.

No, the main reason she was so annoyed with the boys was that they were bugging her. And she was bone tired. Her insomnia was robbing her of precious sleep, that, even when she did get it, wasn’t much, and did little to restore her strength. Just three days ago, she nearly had her hand cut off for snatching a loaf of bread out of the oven of someone’s makeshift home in a deserted bakery. It didn’t matter. She had dropped the loaf while running, and had gotten a burned hand in the process. She glanced down at her still red hand. It tingled still whenever something even lukewarm passed over it. She couldn’t believe how dumb she’d been. And now she was so hungry, that she could hardly think. She hated it. Hated it! She wished that she could somehow get her hands on those sleeping pills she’d heard of. It would’ve made it all so much easier. She could sleep again. She would’ve been able to escape the sounds of the crying, the gunshots, the constant skittering of the awoken dead looking for a meal. At night, they were mostly all safe. No sounds, no way they could find you.

She heard shouting coming from down the alley. Instinct told her to get out of the way, and she automatically skittered up a rickety fire escape ladder. She watched as the boys and a man dressed all in dark clothing sprint down right where she’d been. Good thing she’d gone up to the roof. When she saw what was chasing them, she thanked whatever gods may be that she’d found a high place to hide. Until she saw one of the boys trip, and scream for mercy. Leice covered her ears, shut her eyes, and pressed her body against the roof of the building. The cries eventually passed, but they continued to ring in her head. Goddammit, what the hell was wrong with the world?? She wished she had done something, pulled out her gun and shot one of the zombies! But the sound would’ve drawn more, and she didn’t have many bullets. Besides, her aim wasn’t great. She was better at hand-to-hand combat. When she was able to clear the tears from her eyes, she stood and slid down the fire escape.

Leice patted down the grey chiffon dress she wore over a black camisole that had white lace detail at the top and the dark blue short destroyed denim shorts. It wasn’t a practical outfit for the cold nights, but she had a weakness for looking good, even in her circumstances. Her feet were shod by slightly oversized military boots, and her wrists were covered with leather cuffs. On her neck, she wore a tiny bird skull on a chain she’d stolen from a dead soldier – she’d shoved his dog tags in his mouth, so he could still be indentified. Checking around the corner to be sure she wasn’t tailing him too closely, she began to follow the man. She’d never seen anyone like him in these parts, or ever, really. At least, she hadn’t seen someone with his good-looks walking around that wasn’t in military uniform. He made her curious. When she caught up with him, she found him rummaging through a pile. To her annoyance, her pile. That was where she kept all of her extra supplies, like jackets, boots, blankets, cooking supplies, and such. Leice stomped out to stand behind him. She tapped him on his shoulder, then pointed to the alley from where they’d both just come from.

”Leave. Now.” She wasn’t really one for manners.

[Vladimir Stanton]

Vladimir heard the sound of heavy footsteps behind him and froze, his muscles tensing as he prepared himself to make a run for it. Shit. One of the kids must have survived and followed him. Before he had a chance to turn around, a finger tapped him on the shoulder, jabbing against the bone. The gesture sent him jumping backward, eyes wide as he tried to shove the person away from him. He hated being scared like that. He stumbled a step, tripping over some of the rubble, and then managed to catch his balance, quickly straightening himself out. As he did so, a girl’s voice echoed down the narrow street: “Leave. Now.”

He spun around, hand immediately dropping to his katana. He grabbed the handle with his blood covered hand, fingers squeezing it tightly, ready to unsheathe it if she made any sort of threatening move. His dark eyes watched her, full of suspicion. She wasn’t a zombie, no, but that didn’t make him feel any better. She could be some scavenger, and any second now she was going to try and kill him like those punks earlier. Knowing his luck, she probably had a gun or something. The guys with daggers were easy to fend off, to get rid of, but when his opponent had a gun it was a bit more difficult. If it was a small one sometimes he’d be able to knock it away from them, however if it was one of those big ass army ones… yeah, he was pretty much screwed.

“Get away from me,” he growled, taking a step back. It wasn’t in retreat. It was to give him more room to draw his sword if he needed to. She’d told him to leave like she owned the place…but that wasn’t true. No one owned anything anymore. “Why don’t you leave?” he questioned darkly, eyes watching her every movement. Maybe he was being too suspicious, too wary, but you could never be careful enough in this day and age. If you trusted people it usually got you killed.

Vladimir looked the girl over, sizing up his opponent. She wasn’t half-bad looking, but that didn’t change anything. He’d fight a girl. It didn’t matter if you were male and female. If it was kill or be killed, he would fucking kill. Well, that’s the impression he gave off anyway, the way he was standing with his lips pulled back in a snarl. The truth was he probably wouldn’t be able to kill her. Before this had all started he’d been a soldier, and before that he’d been a prisoner… but… a long time ago, somewhere way back in time, he’d just been a normal guy, and there was still some human left in him. Killing for no reason? No, he couldn’t do that. Killing to keep himself breathing? Then he’d pull out his sword. He never attacked someone unless they attacked him first. Well, unless of course you were a zombie.

[/blockquote]

[Annaliese LEICE Kilroy]

Leice continued glaring at him as he jumped and spun to face her. Normally, she would’ve laughed at him for being so fucking jumpy, but she was pissed right now. And it wasn’t even his goddamned fault. He’d just run into her at a bad time. Okay, so she had technically run into him, but she really wasn’t a fan of technicalities. They got in the way of the actual, logistic facts. Actually, they got in the way of her winning, but she’d never admit that. Her eyes flickered to his hand gripping his sword. She curled her lip at that. She didn’t like swords. They hurt like hell. Although they didn’t make the same god awful sound as guns, they were a bitch to fight against. Her brain registered that his hand was covered in blood, and the cut at his side made her assume it was his. But the fact didn’t connect with her thoughts, so she ignored his injured state. She rolled her eyes at him, and gestured with her arm again down the alleyway. Just get the goddamned picture, already, kid! she thought angrily. You don’t belong here!

Get away from me

Lecie didn’t budge, looking at him with bored annoyance. Her anger was slowly dying down, but she still wanted him to leave. He didn’t belong here, and he made her nervous. The way he held himself was military-like, but he wasn’t military. Neither was he a militia member. His lack of a gun proved both. If she wasn’t so set on standing her ground, she would’ve bolted down the alleyway and away from the man. She was afraid he was a renegade. And the last time she’d seen a renegade had been in the South, when he’d killed her mother after raping her. And that was one of her biggest fears. Instead, her bull-headedness over him being in her property was overriding her want to run and hide.

”Why don’t you leave?”

Leice snarled. “Why don’t you stop jamming your nasty little grabbies in places where they don’t belong!?” She snapped, narrowing her eyes. She absently brushed the gun that was tucked into the waistband of her shorts. It wasn’t the best place to keep it, or to hide it. Even though she was wearing a light dress over her clothing, it was light. Meaning, transparent. Not that she wanted to hide it. If people saw that she was packing heat, they typically left her alone, and she liked that. Leice nodded to the pile that the man was standing in front of. ”That there is my pile o’ shit. This here,” She jerked her head to the side, indicating the used-to-be courtyard they were standing in, “is my courtyard. And that” She jabbed her finger down the alleyway again, “is your exit.” She pronounced each word as if he were dumb. She figured he wasn’t, but if she annoyed him enough, maybe he’d leave. Probably not, but maybe.

”Besides, I’m a refugee. I have the right to claim any vacated area as a place of residence.” She knew that was total bullshit. Even though refugees had the right to housing, no one wanted to house dirty little war-rats. It was like there was some sort of disease hanging on refugees, like if anyone let them stay in one place for too long, they’d bring with them all the terrors and horrors of war. Hopefully, the man standing in front of her wouldn’t know that, though. She took a step back, clearing his way to the alley and curtsying to him with a mocking look on her face. ”So, if you would please…” She bowed to him, gesturing with her hand to leave. Except her hand only had one finger up. And it was her middle finger. And it was directed at him.

[Vladimir Stanton]

“Why don’t you stop jamming your nasty little grabbies in places where they don’t belong!?”

“What’d you say to me?” he growled, leaning forward a little, taking a threatening stance, baring his teeth. He noticed that as she said this she brushed her fingers against something near her waist. His eyes travelled down, and that’s when he noticed the gun. What, was that supposed to be some silent threat? Get lost or I’ll shoot you? He narrowed his eyes at her, keeping his hand firmly on his katana. Well, two could play at that game. He hated people who carried guns. Unfortunately, that was most of the population. A gun seemed to be everyone’s prime weapon choice. Oh well, her gun was small, his sword was long, if she made any movement to draw it, he’d cut it right out of her hands in an instant. He started to unsheathe his katana but then stopped himself, taking a breath to calm down.

His side was starting to hurt now, but he didn’t show it. If he was lucky, she hadn’t noticed. It was bad to let other people see your injuries. Some of them would take advantage of you if they saw you were hurt, thought you were weak. He kept his expression the same, hard and cold, not letting on anything, and then slowly moved his arm down, aiming to cover the wound. He would need to look at it soon. He didn’t know how bad it was yet. It hurt though, and he didn’t like pain. It was annoying. Plus, things like cuts and wounds out here could kill you off pretty fast, seeing as there weren’t many medical supplies, especially if they got infected. Then you were as good as dead.

”That there is my pile o’ shit. This here is my courtyard. And that is your exit.”

The girl spoke, and he resurfaced from his thoughts. He let out a long sigh, holding her in his cold gaze. He thought it would probably be a good idea to leave. After all, there was nothing that would be useful for him here. He would have left if she wasn’t being such a bitch about it, but…just to spite her…he stayed. Besides, she was standing right in his way. That…and he didn’t like letting people get the last word in. His temper prevented him from backing down from fights. It was a dangerous quality to have. “Yours, huh?” He lifted an eyebrow at this. Since when did anything belong to anyone anymore? Then she said something being a refugee, but he wasn’t really listening anymore. She talked too much.

She was starting to piss him off. Vladimir’s lips curled his lips back in a silent snarl, his eyebrow twitching in irritation. Why couldn’t she just shut the hell up? He wanted to punch her. Of course, he didn’t do this. Starting fights for no reason was stupid, and while she was being an absolute bitch to him, he doubted that she would try to kill him, even if he refused to leave. See, this, this right here…this was why he just stayed away from people. Even if they weren’t out to kill you, they were pretty damn rude. Well, not that he was any nicer… “Eh, well, you know what they say,” he told her and flashed a grin, a gesture he was sure would tick her off, “Finders keepers.” He had no interest of staying here long. He hadn’t found anything that would really be of use to him, and if this loudmouthed girl hadn’t shown up he’d probably already be heading off again, going his own way.

“So, if you would please…”

“Okay, okay, get your panties out of a wad,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. He took a step, about to leave, but then changed his mind. He bent down, wincing as he felt a stab through his side, and then grabbed something out of ‘her’ pile and started to walk off. As he moved past her, he returned her gesture, sticking his middle finger up in her face. It was a childish thing to do, he knew this, but he didn’t really care right now. “See ya.”

[/blockquote]

[Annaliese LEICE Kilroy]

”What’d you say to me?”

Leice rolled her eyes. Boy, was this guy dumb. She’d told him to get his hand out of her pile! Could she have been more clear? She didn’t think so. He obviously wasn’t around from these parts if he didn’t know the unspoken rules of never touching someone’s pile. Not that anyone listened, but no one was stupid enough to try and take something in front of the owner. Although he wasn’t taking anything now, and when he’d been rummaging through, he hadn’t known she was there, but that was besides the point. Point was, that was her shit, and he shoulda never messed with it! She saw his eyes travel down to the gun pressed against her hipbone. She saw his grip tight on the long sword at his waistband, and duly noted that he was probably someone worth of respect she used to have. But since she no longer carried that respect, she kept her grim gaze on him. Besides, like hell he could move 850 feet per second like her bullet could. Not that she’d ever shoot it, but…

The man’s lips curled back in a snarl, his eyebrow twitching. If Leice had any humor in her at the moment, she would’ve laughed there. He looked comically angry. Instead, Leice kept her face stony still. She braced herself against the settling cold has the sun sank below the line of the still standing tall building towards the west. Leice scolded herself for opting out of wearing a jacket that day. It wasn’t as if it had been warm all day either. But she was such a victim of fashion, that she didn’t want to ruin the one good look she’d had in so very long with a mismatched jacket. Leice scuffed the toe of her boot against the ground. Leice had stolen them from a dead soldier, as they were nice and dry, in good condition, and only a little bit of explosive power and blood on them. Many people that saw them assumed she had no morals, but she did. They just happened to be lower than someone who had all of their needs met for them. When she ran the risk of dying any day from a multitude of causes, she didn’t worry about respect for the dead. Besides, they were all the same decaying organic matter.

”Okay, okay, get your panties out of a wad,”

Leice’s face reddened in anger and embarrassment. She hadn’t ever had such a phrase used against her, and even though she was twenty, she hadn’t really dealt with men that much. In a military setting, yes, but none of them had ever thought of her as anything more than a sister-in-arms. The man began to walk away, and she followed him with her eyes, continually glaring. Before he was too far, he grabbed something out of her pile. Leice gaped at him. He had done… what?? She could hardly believe it. First, no one, and she meant NO ONE, had the balls to steal right in front of her. Second, how goddamn stupid was this kid?! Leice stared at him as he returned her gesture, shoving his own middle finger in her face. She just looked on shocked. This shock broke before he was out of attacking reach. She slammed her forearm into his chest, pulling out her gun and jamming it into his belly. ”Don’t… you… dare…” Lecie growled.

As she glanced down to check what he’d taken, she saw the unmistakable color of copper. Her eyes felt they were growing as wide as dinner plates. He was planning on taking from her something she valued more than life on occasions?!? She jammed the barrel of the gun into his belly, sure to leave an impression, before she snaked her hand and yanked the copper coil from his grabby. She scuffled back, curling the coil against her chest, hunching over slightly to try and hide it. Her eyes were filled with rage as she glared murderously up at him.

”WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” Leice screamed, waving her gun wildly around. She was beyond pissed. ”DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THIS WOULD PAY FOR?! DO YOU HAVE ANY FUCKING CLUE?!!?” She protectively pulled out a tattered blanket from the bottom of the pile, wrapping the coil in it, along with other pieces of copper he’d somehow brought to the top in his rummaging. She was positive she had set them all at the bottom, hidden from plain view. She turned to face him, rising with anger. “That coil alone can pay for a month’s worth of food, water, and shelter when paid the right price. You wanna know why?? Because it shells the bullets in the fucking damn war, that’s why,” she murmured.

[Vladimir Stanton]

As Vladimir walked by the girl, her arm slammed into him, hitting him in the chest and stopping him in his tracks. He couldn’t say he was surprised by the gesture. He doubted she would’ve let him leave with her valuable coin, or whatever it was he had taken. To be honest, he hadn’t really looked yet. He’d just done it to piss her off. It was stupid of him and immature, but he didn’t really care. He wasn’t exactly the type of guy who stopped to consider what people thought about him, or how his thoughtless actions might affect others.

Vladimir snorted at the girl, silently laughing at her. He was about to attempt to shove past her arm when something hard slammed into his stomach. The impact sent him back a few steps and his dark eyes widened in surprise. He tried to speak, but he couldn’t. She’d hit him so hard it had knocked the breath out of him. Not to mention it had freaking hurt. The raven-haired man gritted his teeth together, hunching over slightly. Bitch. That’s what he wanted to say. God what was her problem? He hadn’t been serious. He’d been planning on giving the stupid item back to her. He really had no interest in keeping the old coin. Money had little role in today’s society. Well, for him anyway. Some people probably still found value in it, but he didn’t. He didn’t use money. He just stole stuff.

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THIS WOULD PAY FOR?! DO YOU HAVE ANY FUCKING CLUE?!!?”

Vladimir ignored her. “What the fuck was that for?” he choked out when he finally was able to speak again. He knew perfectly well what it was for and yet he found himself asking anyway. He glared daggers at the girl, who was making a similar expression at him. They just stood there like two angry cats, glaring each other down. If Vladimir hadn’t been in so much pain, he might have found this situation amusing.

Ow. Yeah that hurt. Partly because she’d hit him so damn hard, and partly because it had been so close to where his wound had been. The pain nearly floored him, but somehow he managed to keep standing on his feet. He swung his sword from over his shoulder and rested it on the ground like a cane, using it to help hold him up. “I was gonna give it back,” he muttered to her, trying to block out all the shouting she was doing. “What’s the big deal anyway? It’s just – Hey. There’s no need to shoot anybody.” For the first time Vladimir realized the girl had a gun. He hadn’t seen it before. This made him slightly more wary of her, but only slightly. If she tried to fire it, he’d have his sword out in an instant and off would go her hands with one swift swing.

Despite himself, Vladimir let out a half-laugh. As annoying as the situation was, he found something funny about the way the girl was acting. She was so overdramatic. It probably wasn’t a good idea to laugh, seeing as that’d probably just piss her off more. He should really be more careful. She had a gun after all. “Calm down. Jeez. I don’t want your stupid coin anyway…”

[/blockquote]

[Annaliese LEICE Kilroy]

Leice began sorting through her pile, sorting out the different metals into one pile, then into sub-piles, and placing clothing, like warm jackets and jeans, into another. She’d slipped her handgun back into her waist band, trying to ignore the man behind her. She couldn’t believe how little worth he put into something so damn valuable. And he kept calling it a coin. It wasn’t a goddamned coin, it was a coil. She couldn’t get over how little he knew. Leice went about setting up her sleeping arrangements, placing a thin blanket on the ground for a place to sleep, then wrapping a medium sized rock in a jacket that was filled with too many hole to actually consider it ‘wearable’. She pulled an army flak jacket over her wiry arms, zipping it up halfway. She rubbed her hands together, blowing warm air from her mouth onto them to warm them up, and then slapping them against her thighs before jamming them into the deep pockets of the jacket.

She kicked the remaining ‘junk’ left in the main pile, trying to find something decent to eat. She noticed the plant of mint she’d picked earlier. Picking up an old tin cup, she filled it with rainwater from a nearby puddle. Setting it on the ground, she scraped out a small pit, throwing twigs into it. Leice began rummaging through the pockets of the flak jacket, looking for the matches she knew were in there. She also found paper in the form of an envelope with a name written on it and a heart next to it. She tore it up, placing the below the twigs. Lighting the match, she caught the paper on fire, making sure the twigs caught the heat, then added a few larger sticks. She placed two bricks close to the pit on either side, then grabbed a sheet of junk metal and placed it over the flames. She then placed the tin can on to of the metal, setting it to boil.

She turned to face him again, looking at him with suspicion. ”Where the hell are you from?” she demanded. ”No one around here would put so little worth into copper, especially a coil….” Leice took out the mint plant and began to grind it against a rock, careful not to tear the leaves too much. She’d learned over the years that mint, if made strong enough in a tea, could stave for hunger for at the most, a day. That’s all she needed for now. Not to mention the scent of mint calmed her. Leice popped a bit of the plant into her mouth to kill her current hunger. Soon, the water began to boil, and she dumped the rest of the plant into the water. She picked up a relatively clean stick and stirred in the plant, then waited.

When the can was cool enough to hold through the sleeves of the jacket, Leice curled up against a crumbling wall, sipping her tea and glaring at the man. ”Do you honestly have it so easy that you don’t have to worry about the selling price of metals?” she asked, grumbling. She wanted to know how someone could live so easily while she had to fight for every scrape of food.

[Vladimir Stanton]

The girl started ignoring him after that, sorting through her stuff, setting something up. Vladimir watched as she put away her gun, relaxing a little. He wasn’t sure it was the smartest thing to do, and if it had been him he would have kept the weapon drawn and fully accessible. He could have been a scavenger for all she knew, someone who killed mercilessly for their own personal gain. Luckily, it wasn’t often that Vladimir actually swung his sword in a killing blow. He preferred to avoid taking lives with his own hands, and while he would injure someone, he would rarely kill.

“Things like that are worthless to me anyway,” he muttered with a slight shrug of his shoulders. This girl said the coil he had taken was worth something, but that was meaningless information to him. He didn’t need to sell things, he didn’t need to buy things. Cash, money, whatever people were calling it now, it was completely worthless to him. Vladimir survived by scavenging, by searching through old buildings for remains, by leeching from safe camps, by stealing from other survivors like himself. He might have considered stealing from this girl right here in front of him. However, she had nothing that he saw valuable, nothing he could use. Just a bunch of junk, this and that, not anything that would prove useful to him.

The girl began to cook something, or that is what it looked like she was doing anyway. She filled a cup of tin with some water, grabbing a few leaves from her pile. What the hell was she doing anyway? Vladimir watched her through narrowed eyes. She took a match out and started a small fire. “You’re not going to eat that, are you?” he asked, making a face. He got his answer a second later as took a small bite of the leaves and then put the rest in the cup. Well, he supposed that was a yes. It didn’t look like the most appetizing meal. He knew that food was scarce, but he wasn’t sure if even he would eat that. She must have been hungry. She seemed to know what she was doing though, like she had done this many times before. He watched her work, now silent. He wasn’t sure why he was still standing here. The girl was acting as if he wasn’t even there, and he had better things to be doing than watching another survivor boil leaves.

“Where the hell are you from? No one around here would put so little worth into copper, especially a coil…. Do you honestly have it so easy that you don’t have to worry about the selling price of metals?”

Vladimir was slightly surprised when the girl spoke. She was still talking to him? He studied her for a moment, thinking of how to reply. “Does that really matter?” he asked under his breath, though he was losing his focus on her. His mind had drifted off as he watched her cook the leaves over the fire, a distant look reflected in his dark eyes, as if he wasn’t all there. He rested more heavily against his sword, using it to support his weight. He felt his legs getting a little weaker, and he knew it was probably because of blood loss. The katana wobbled little, and he swayed with it. He closed his eyes for a second, longer than he had intended, attempting to focus his dancing vision. When he opened them, he saw that the girl had moved over to a wall, little can in hand, drinking that leaf stew or whatever it was she had made. “I steal shit. I don’t need to sell metals,” he added. There was still a scowl on his face, though his voice wasn’t as cutting as it had been before, the growl weaker.

[/blockquote]

[Annaliese LEICE Kilroy]

”Things like that are worthless to me anyway,”

Leice snorted as she stirred the water in her tin, watching the leaves twirl around in the darkening waters as the tea grew more potent. She took a sip of it, letting its warmth reach all the way through her. ”Lucky” she muttered into the cup, breathing in the steam that was rising from the waters. She wished things like her coil were still worthless to her. She wished she never had to know what the running price for copper was. She wished that this goddamned government had never taken away her father, her whole family. Leice wished for a lot of things, but that didn’t mean one damn thing. She was still a little street rat, scavenging for food, fighting her own war by herself to just stay alive for one more night.

Leice eyed the man’s sword that he was using to support himself now. She took another swig of the tea, trying not to choke as it grew more potent. At least her hunger pangs were dying down. She imagined what it must be like to not have to scavenge, like this man did it. He must have been a killer-for-hire. Leice stared off into space, imaging the occupation. It was all fine and dandy, up until she had to blow some kid’s head off. Leice shook her head. Nope, she’d stay where she was on the executive food chain for now at least. At least she didn’t let herself fall lower and turn into a lady of the night. Leice knew a couple of those girls, and frankly, they were bigger bitches than she was on her worst days. And that was saying something.

”You’re not going to eat that, are you?”

Leice glared up at him, one brow raised in question as she bit off another stem of the mint plant. ”So what if I am, asshole?” she said, munching the leaves and ignoring the slightly bitter and sharp taste of the mint. ”It’s mint. It staves off hunger pangs.” she swallowed, then cleared her throat. ”And it gives me fresh, clean breath!” Leice threw her voice into a falsetto to try and mimic the lady of the old Orbit gum commercials. Oh, what she wouldn’t do for some gum, at least. That would do much better at staving off her hunger than this mint plant. And it would taste better, to boot. She looked up at him, watching his eyes sway a bit. ”What? You too good for some mint?” she asked.

Leice eyed the man carefully as he swung a tiny bit, like a pendulum. She inched a bit away from him, drawing her knees closer to her chest. He was beginning to weird her out now, not that he hadn’t before, but now more so. He seemed to be losing energy as time went on. He wasn’t as vicious as before. Her eyes traveled up and down his sword as he put more weight on it. ”You dyin?” she asked plainly. ”Cuz just so you know, if you do die, the first thing I’m doing is searching you for loose change…” she went back to sipping her tea, which had begun to cool down considerably.

”I steal shit. I don’t need to sell metals.”

Leice snorted. So this man that thought he was so high and mighty actually resorted to stealing? That was great. ”What? From the live, or the dead?” she asked. ”Cuz even I’m not so low as to steal from the living. I take from the dead, keep what I can and sell all the other shit.” Her sense of right and wrong was screwy, and she knew that. But she considered it better to take from the dead than from the living, because, hey, the living were still using their shit. The dead at least had no use for whatever they still had in their possessions.