Heartthrob

Kell sighed as she stared at the phone. Perfect. Fucking perfect.

She, of course, got Purity's message - the one telling her that she, EJ, and Est would be preoccupied for a bit, that they were busy somewhere with new friends. She got that one, just like she had gotten the one from her that they were off to that scummy bathhouse: what was it, something about Onigashima? It was about Momotaro, she remembered that much... The name had only mattered so that Kell could let her eyes and ears know about it.

Of course, she had plenty of those... Eyes, ears, teeth, claws... But the latter two weren't required for simple surveillance. Cinna was enough. Still first-living, still innocent and innocuous... Still in the same line of work he seemed to gravitate towards... Everything had been going fine. Three girls show up, don't get bothered or do anything crazy... A blonde, a pinkette, and a girl with steel fangs...

And then? A supercar had rolled up. Jet-black. Tinted windows. Not theirs, not from anyone that she knew. Said they were looking for the women inside. Cinna had folded and run, just as he always did... Just like he was good at. Kell allowed herself a wry, bitter smile at that. Cinna wasn't the best at his role, but he always knew how to keep his head down and avoid danger; he'd never been caught, not once. Not like some of her people.

She couldn't help but think of the IRE site over on North Kashina - the one with the mass break-out. It had been a fucking mess, so she heard... but whatever had done it had helped her get some of her heads back in the field. None of them knew why the cell doors had all just opened like that - why the guards had been on lunch simultaneously. They had told her that there was a Tsang hit-squad there, though, in the main building... One that fired first, asked questions never. For every five people who made it out the front gates, a woman in a suit and her entourage had taken three.

The crematoriums worked a double-shift that night, though it hadn't made the news. Likely, it never would. That was typical - the news was for what Tsang wanted Vitus to hear. But that was a topic for a different time - she was getting distracted. Right now, her three girlies (though she considered them 'recruits in training') were off somewhere with unknown forces, being sheltered. That was fine... but not knowing where they were, or what they might be telling their new patrons, was the worrisome bit.

Kell stood from where she sat, looking around the empty breakroom. The scent of life still clung to the sleeping bags and the fabric of the couch; it smelled like them, the two true-living, and Esper James. Her wry smile lingered, though the bitterness within it only grew as the thought more on her new friends. They had no idea what the truth of this all was, did they?

Esper James wasn't so special, but she was just special enough that Tsang wanted her. Kell hadn't known why at first, but back then, at the Kehler Complex? EJ and Purity had been in need, and seemed like they were sympathetic to her cause, so she had done what she could to get them out. Recruiting was hard when your entire movement was about disassembling the corporatocracy that controlled your entire city - if not your entire nation. That latter part put an acrid taste on her tongue, dark and awful as eating fresh ash; she spat on the floor.

She didn't need to look down at it to know it was black, and thick - thick like every fluid that still lay within the second-living.

Her hand went to her pistol as she paced the room, considering how to proceed. Est had gotten in contact with the other Waywards in the city, more Knights to host the trio. The Knights would surely put EJ through her paces - trying to figure out what she knew about Tsang, what she knew about herself. It was funny, in a sad way - the Knights knew only a little less about the second-living than Vitus's majority populace knew about themselves. The very company that drove them to death would never pull aside the curtain, not in a million years.

After all, a magician never reveals his secrets - and Tsang Liwei wouldn't reveal his secrets even if you had a gun to his temple. That old bastard, sitting in his high tower, lounging therein on a diet of blood and flesh... There was a belief, in Vitus's undercity, that some of the disappearances in the city's more shadowy corners were to feed the First Vampire's appetites, regardless of their nature. Another heaping helping of bitterness was dished up, along with a garnish of regret - regret that she knew the truth of it all.

She wished she could forget. She wished she could scrub her eyes and forget everything; it may be better to just not know, to go back to being a normal citizen... A normal person. But, that wouldn't be possible at this point - and even if it was, this city needed her, even if she hated everything it stood for.

Combat boots thudded upon bare concrete as she paced out into the hall, towards the main production room of the vacant factory. Hundreds of dead machines, barely beginning to rust even after so many years of disuse... They made her think of Vitus's populace, in a way. Dead, and worse for it, but still able to function if you really tried. They could still do the work, still do what was expected of them, even if a little rust flaked off here and there.

Her phone rang, then - she flipped her phone 'round in her hand, going to check who it was. 'Eddy Jacobs'. Fucker knew she was busy right now - what did he want? The phone was unlocked and set to speaker, so that Kell could keep stalking the empty production lines as she spoke. The phone almost immediately burst into sound. "Kell! Kell, where the fuck are you?! Like, ok, you're at the factory, yes, but- fuck, can you make it home?! Kehler is swarming with guys, and...!"

Gunshots filled the momentary silence of Eddy's trailed sentence, a loud cry of pain from some distant source rippling through the smartphone's speaker like thunder. More gunshots followed - automatic, fired indiscriminately, just trying to hit something, anything. Kell felt her muscles start to tense up, heat pouring into them from an unseen font; a familiar feeling. She rolled her eyes, playing the bitch - despite her body's reaction, and the anticipation in her heart, she was trying to do some thinking right now. Eddy knew how to win the fight, if it came down to it.

"Eddy. I'm at the factory. Do you need me? Do we want that? Pandora's box can't be shut once it's opened, you know... Tsang can't cover it all up. Too many people will die, first and second timers both. Do you really need me?" Her words carried the sort of gravity that young black holes hope to accrue when they grow up big and strong. Eddy was silent, only breathing heavily for a few seconds, considering what she had said without any immediate response. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse.

"Fuck it, Kell, please! Otherwise Kehler goes down, and like-! Our guys are good, but I know some of them're gonna squeal! These guys are the real deal, Tsang Riot Ops, we can barely even punch through their-" More gunfire, a rapid spray just as horrid and hateful as the last. Kell could practically feel the recoil of the weapon, imagining herself being the one firing it all... Imagining herself back there, on the front lines of yet another fight with corp-sec. It excited her.

She sighed, successfully hiding the shiver that ran through her body at the promise of violence. "Fine. I'll be right there; just hole up somewhere. You know where the fire extinguishers are; you know where the scab-solv is if they use silver. Hold tight. It's about time we had a real wake-up call for this fucking city." And then, before Eddy could respond? Kell threw her phone to the ground, looking at it for only a second. She leveled her pistol towards its screen, and pulled the trigger.

A grim satisfaction came from seeing a new hole form in the center of her phone. Then another, then another... gouging the concrete from the floor, and replacing it with hot lead. Tsang would've been triangulating their call... They would've had someone monitoring all calls originating from within Kehler. She wouldn't be surprised if corp-sec was already on its way to her location, armed to the teeth, armored to the gills. They knew what she could do - or at least, so they thought.

She dropped the clip from her pistol, catching it in her free hand. Back pocket always held all her ammo, and normally, she didn't need that many rounds anyways... All it took was one shot to kill a man, if she aimed right. She had good aim, so she'd liked to have thought. The two bonus shots at her phone were for her own benefit - to feed the beast which lay inside, and to calm her quaking heart.

The brunette began to make her way out of the factory, walking rather than running - restraining herself, and giving Eddy more time to try and figure this whole mess out himself. Why were Tsang at Kehler, anyways? Probably some kind of inspection, to see how that little blonde had managed to escape so seamlessly... To quash any dissidence within the populace, through removal of hostile elements. And of course, they'd found exactly what they were looking for: Eddy, and the others.

Unlicensed civvies with stockpiles of guns and ammo, and more than enough stored gasoline and chemical supplies to make any kind of bomb or trap they'd need. Even if Eddy and his hadn't been guilty, it would've been oh so very easy for Tsang to leverage the courts into just... pinning all the recent assassinations and firebombings on him. Even if he'd just been a normal citizen, one with a fascination with guns and chemistry but no history or intent of terrorism? They could put him away without a second thought, and throw away the key.

Ugh. So now there was a firefight - one that was heated enough that, while she couldn't hear it from where she was right now, she was sure plenty of other people could. That was good, in it's own way: political violence was something of an undercurrent within Vitus, an unspoken but accepted truth. Most citizens just looked the other way, tried not to think about it... Tried not to think about why their neighbor might get snatched by men in black armor, and then never be seen again.

The front door of the factory was passed; out into the darkness of Vitus night, moon blocked by smog as per usual, streetlights the only way to see for a first-living. Kell's eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness of the city, though - her pupils flared to monolithic proportions, eyes reforming in an instant to become almost entirely black. It hurt, just a little, a soreness that words couldn't properly describe. She liked that, though... she liked the reminder that this wasn't natural, that it wasn't something she was supposed to be able to do. Her body wasn't made for this sort of action, reforming itself on the fly like that.

Up in the sky, distant but drawing nearer by the second, she could see a chopper. Jet black, to blend in with the pollutant clouds... The only tell that it was there at all was the swirl of airborne particulates it left in its wake. Just as planned, just as she suspected: someone had been tracking her call, and now that they knew where she was? She'd get company. Fuck it, though; she was already going to be hilt-deep in a fight in about ten minutes. Why not take these guys right now?

The freedom fighter walked towards her bike with a nonchalant gait, silently willing the helicopter to get that much closer to her before she could hop on and start her drive. When she made it to her cycle - a sleek little sports-bike, off-white and gold, with a decal of a grinning skull - she was almost reluctant to put her key into the ignition. The first gunshot to pepper the parking lot, however, reminded her of what she was doing and who she was dealing with.

It had been a warning shot, she knew that much - and much like every other warning shot in history, there wouldn't be a second. She had to move quickly. The jagged key pushed into the ignition slot, turned to send the beast between Kell's thighs roaring to life. The headlight had long since been purposefully smashed, so that she was just that much harder to hit when night fell... She didn't need artificial light, anyways, at least not more than the city already gave. At her lap, the cycle howled like a wounded, metallic beast.

And then she was off. Through the dingy gates of the factory, out onto the pitted, unused back-streets of the industrial sector... Her machine carrying her like Apollo's chariot, though with less flame and more malice. The gunshots began in earnest once she began her planned escape, each measured shot meeting a less measured target amidst the rusted bones of the city. Kell swerved left and right, dipping and dodging unseen gunfire, knowing without seeing just when there was a bullet being sent her way.

The exterior speakers of the helicopter lit up with sound, that airborn abomination now close enough that she could hear the rotors whir. "Female on a modified motorcycle, pull over now! Cease and desist! You are required for questioning in relation to a variety of crimes perpetrated around the city! Deadly force will be authorized if you do not comply!" Bang. Bang. Bang. Kell couldn't help but grin at their wording.

Deadly force? What did that mean, anymore? A concept like that would've just meant they'd shoot you, fifty or so years ago... They'd shoot you, kill you, mark you down for resisting arrest, and charge your family a fine for raising such a little brat. Nowadays, however, it meant they were loading silver - or, if you were in close quarters, incendiary. Dragon's breath had come into vogue for breaching teams that needed to take down second-living criminals, after all... Luckily, there was no fucking way a heli would get close enough for that.

Her right hand left the handles of her steed, drawing up her beloved pistol. Sure, they may be loading silver... but she just had full metal jacket. There was no reason for her to send them to a true death, and anyways, she liked knowing she could just punch through Tsang corp-sec armor like paper. That was more than enough for her... And enough to ward off most combatants, when a full-on fight arose.

The pistol was aimed by instinct and sound, her visual focus retained upon the road. Three trigger pulls, and one sound of a metallic crumple as her shot rang true against the chopper's chassis. Hopefully, there was something important where she was aiming - like the fuel tank, or some mechanism with the rotors, or whatever the fuck. What made helicopters work? Who the fuck knew, really? She wasn't a chopper engineer; she was just a criminal who wanted to see social change.

Bang, bang, bang bang bang. Gunshots continued to ring out, rapping out a drumbeat for the two vehicles' marches to war. Up ahead, Kell saw the glimmer of street lights - and the concrete walls that surrounded the industrial district. Tsang had put them up to control the flow in and out of the mostly-derelict section of the city, to keep people like her out; all they had done, in the end, was make criminals more creative.

And then, the street lights began to disappear as figures stepped out from behind the walls. A small box was set down, and kicked - from its rectangular form extended a long strip of metal, jagged spikes raising up out of its length. The figures took aim at her, but didn't fire yet; they didn't think they'd need to, of course. Good boys, Kell thought... Following orders, adhering to Tsang corp-sec training and policies. For an operation like this, they'd never fire on her unless she somehow made it past the spike strip. That was good.

She couldn't repress her smile anymore, tongue rolling along her teeth behind the ivory barricade they formed. Each one had reformed itself, from the flat dental structure of a true-living, into the alabaster spikes of a ghoul. Her tongue, too, was now pointed... More vampiric than ghoulish, but still every bit an indicator of her nature. Her pupils drew themselves inward, ocular flesh molding itself back into the amber rings of irises, set about ebon slits.

She fired again, and this time, glass cracked as it was punctured. The sound of the helicopter's rotors became more sporadic, more random and wobbly; they were having difficulty keeping it aloft, and its trajectory was changing by the second. Wicked laughter burst upwards and outwards from Kell's chest, a maddening sound reflecting sadistic joy at her own actions. She always thought of this sensation, this excitement, as the thrill of the hunt - and while her pursuers surely thought her the prey, they had no idea what sort of predatory demon they were tangling with.

Finally, a gunshot hit her - piercing her torso, puncturing both her lungs, the force of it throwing her spinal column into disarray. She screamed in pain with what breath remained in her lungs, feeling the rough cauterization of silver-tipped ordinance cap off her injuries before they could even begin to bleed. Her bike wavered, and she nearly spilled; through grit teeth she held fast, brow furrowing in determination, forcing herself to stay aloft despite the pain.

All it took was a little focus... A little bit more than usual, just a bit of singular attention. She could feel it within her, in her long-dead meat... the cauterized bits, blackened from sudden flame, begin to flake away like so much rust. By the time she made it to the spike strip, her body's regenerative factor had sloughed nearly all of it away - the exterior wall of her lungs was fixed just enough for one more push, one final breath, one crowning exertion. She drew the city air deep into herself, adrenaline thrumming in every synapse and muscle like electricity through a horrible machine.

Inches from the spike strip now. She could see the faces of the security forces waiting for her; see their smug grins, the casual way they stood, guns far from readied. They knew she was going to hit the spikes and spill - she was going to end her run here, and be secured, and brought in. That would be the end of it, they knew... or so they thought they knew.

Her grip on the handle of her bike intensified, white-knuckle, so forceful that she could feel the metal begin to bend beneath her hand. And then, her feet went down, twin bolts from the blue. Lightning never strikes twice, but tonight, something so similar as to be interchangeable went through. The soles of her combat boots ground against the rough asphalt for a microsecond before pushing on through, generating enough force to leave indents in the ground - blackish-grey material compressing on itself from Kell's motion.

She caught air - just enough air to clear the spikes, but that was plenty. The gunshots began in new force once she touched down, but they were too bewildered to aim well. That was fine. She was just as shocked as them that that had worked. Within her body, she could feel the coarse sensation of the last bit of cauterized flesh flake away to be replaced... her spinal column fully righting itself, setting her back straight upon her bike.

Alright. To Kehler Complex, then. It was about time this little private war became that much more public invite, she thought.