Jurdon Srunn

Kim scanned the wall pipes as she ran, stopping when she found a particularly thin one that was rusted over. Maintenance was only really required on Aria's level anyway, she tested it briefly, touching the cool metal. There wasn’t much time to debate just what was going to come out of it, she pushed and pulled the pipe until it loosened enough for her to yank out of the wall. Well, one side of it anyway.  Water began to spill out, judging by the smell it was sewage water, lovely. Kim worked on twisting and pulling the bar until it came off with a pop. Wasting no time she rounded on the loud footsteps behind her,  using the sharper end of the pipe to impale the first of the men to catch up to her. His scream was loud, pained, the shocked look on his face made Kim chuckle as she slid it out without much difficulty and bashed the man in his skull sending to the floor with a satisfying thud.

Kreet jumped a bit and covered himself up “How’d you get in here?” His face turned red

It wasn’t the first time being chased down, evidently the guy was popular. Or so she assumed with six or so jerks hollering and hooting behind her. One more ahead of the pack than the others was right on her ass, Kim turned a corner, turning immediately to punch the asshole in his throat. The chocking gargle told her she had done her job and she took off again not wanting to chance the others catching up to her just yet.

…What’d you just call me?

"Look in my eyes. Do you see it dilating? This reads negative for dope. And I slept seven hours and have no history of mental illness, thank you very much. But I do have dreams. Very real ones. Ones that make me wish were reality." He dropped his hand down then looked away, up. "Wait.. I think she’s coming right now.  Oh… Oh, that weirdness in the periphery I told you about, it’s starting."

"It gets me, you know. Like Thor’s hammer." His body rocked when he hit his back against the bench and tapped the picture on his datapad. "And the angel that comes to see me looks like her, but in a white dress flowing in the wind, swan’s feathers… They don’t practice abstinence. Angels. Ask me how I know."

"You want to sit here so bad? Have it," he said. Yunru’s nose flared and he started. "I was at some sodden, runddown church last night, scoped out my friend’s new beau. We find him, of course, but now her traitor finds out. And so, he’s absolutely livid, a Category five hurricane, waving his arms about demanding a fight and the last thing I remember before knocking out cold is looking into the copper-painted-gold eyes of My Savior. And now, every night, I see angels, magnificent-winged creatures, surrounded by a choirboy of cherubs, pouring in from the bright light of my ceiling and hovering five feet above my bed singing hymns and all that jazz. Gets my peripheries crazy." He turned to her, face dull. "What’s your deal, sister?"

Hey… tell me somethin’. What do you guys do when you stain the pretty fabrics on your suits?

Yunru fixed his hair and, at her threat, his face flashed. “Get your own seat,” he retaliated quickly, throwing his arm across to shield his datapad. “Find something else to revolve around that hulking mass. It’s not going to be me.”

"I sit. Where I want to sit." She plopped herself down gracelessly and sat back.