in the wind of a hurricane.

I used to skate a lot during my teen years, but never barefoot 😲

he stopped . he begins to pause and scan the area. he pushed a button on his neck. he can hear beeping from his own system. randy seemed to just stop. there was blood on his hands and face. he killed those people.

he did it because of self defense. there was a slight mechanical tone to his voice. " area is safe from bad humans." randy frowned. there was no emotions in his voice. he did not know how to handle emotions. robots do not have those, he cannot feel pain either.

he did felt a little hiss escape his throat -- though he felt he was not alone. he felt a tingle in his head. a growl escaped the viper droid. randy felt a shake, a tingle. his hands were shaking. his processing was slow. " w-what have i done?" his voice still monotone. he stopped, he shuts his human eyes.

So, the premises were safe? From... bad people. Couldn't that be a loaded term, though? To a being that had been in the midst of a slaughter, morality didn't matter in situations such as these.

Trembling like a leaf, Svetlana edged towards the railing connected to the rickety fire escape, wincing when it creaked softly and a small dusting of rust cascaded to the ground, freezing like a gun had fired in the seconds before she tried to escape again.

Even if she was an innocent bystander, the wailing of police sirens blaring through Night City's streets and the rumble of a hovercraft scuttling towards the alleyway meant companies like Militech would be on the scene soon, not just NCPD that was a bought out guarantee.

It wasn't the first time they'd incarcerated innocent parties just for the sake of furnishing falsified records, and Svetlana wasn't about to be the next. Glancing at the brick wall of the aged apartment building, noting the stately window surrounds cast in stonework that would make for the perfect footholds to pick her way to freedom.

Perching on the railing, Svetlana gave one more look back before vaulting to one of the stone sills, timing it just right as the momentum made for sound purchase. Now, she just had to descend without getting blasted...

that night had been long, grueling, and terrifying - something leon scott kennedy would never even wish on his worst enemies.

head tilts at the sound of the voice, blue eyes capturing her appearance for a second, focusing on her question, registering her words. he'd forgotten to grab a candle, or perhaps he'd purposely not done so. lives were meant to be remembered, but were the vigils doing more harm than good?

Every year was changeless, a winding spiral that never seemed to untangle the web of lies and deceit the country had been blanketed in within, steel wool drawn over the eyes that chafed and bled each time someone tried to lift that veil. The way Svetlana saw it, the grief never really lessened. All that the general public was allowed to know was that the unfathomable fear of the undead rising from their graves in untouchable dreams of apocalypses had come true. Like science fiction that commonly became science fact, the horizons of mortal hubris had once again expanded too far and engulfed the hapless in its voracious maw.

Svetlana turned over the taller man's remark in her head, a few near them casting conspicuous looks, but otherwise focused on the mayor and his administration delivering a sermon like preachers rotating the Sunday pulpit.

Like a bullet expertly fired, the observation hit home. It wasn't even a bitter or malicious statement, just a benign observation, like noting the color and condition of the sky. "Yeah... can't deny that much. Guess it's no big deal whenever the government decides they want to nuke a whole city to kingdom come and bat away everyone wondering why." The brunette scoffed bitterly, the candleflame flickering on her breath. A few headlines, a few observances, then swept aside like a bloodstain under a thick rug.

"In an indoor skatepark? Nah, man, I've been shredding these bad boys since, like, high school," Svetlana replied with a crooked smile back at the man, watching for an opportune moment to take her turn, trying to be considerate of those who had also been waiting. "Heh, yeah. It's my first time here, at least." Not that the brunette was against skateboarding outside when it was a little nippy, as the rush of cold air could be invigorating, but she preferred to avoid black ice. Cruisin' for a bruising wasn't her idea of fun during a winter season just barely begun to thaw. At the sly egging about the transition, when an opening finally availed itself, Svetlana positioned her board on the lip of the half-pipe, foot firmly on the back of the deck. Then, without preamble, she alighted to the deck and tipped off, keeping her body slightly folded as she accrued speed up the ramp and soared in a sideways arc before connecting with the ramp again and rolling back. The momentum on the upward angle propelled her back to the platform she'd begun on, landing on her feet with a slight flourish.

No warning in his body to tell this area is 'off', he made haste to seek a place of escapism, and no thought was put in to warn the possible danger ahead. It's every day he's watched, and that feeling is numbed to a standstill, preferring not to think about it or else he'll be bothered by that revelation. He can pretend as much as he wants if it means protecting himself.

"I was definitely barreling down to Main Street where the devil occupied, but you are not his messenger to send me there yet." Unfortunately, "Lucky, and more so that you're still here with everything still intact. You know how it hurts to bend your elbow in a certain way? I wouldn't wish that on any fucker, not even my own older brother."

He doesn't have an older brother…

But as he was distracted by his own thoughts, the area drove him into a state of confusion.

Roots under his feet swayed, and erupting from the muck came the base of the stem — it's humongous in size, and he doesn't remember that the tree behind him was this massive before. It was a normal-sized tree, innocent and just like all the others around them before. However, it was towering in a way that's abnormal. The bark is protruding a thick sap oozing out of it. It's dark in color, spilling across the ground below. Various holes spilled out as a result of the trunk shedding its skin. If one were to look closely at the branches above, they were pulsating a yellowish glow, but inside the glow were bulbous veins, reddish with each beat housing blood.

Suddenly, one of them exploded to splash down into the dirt. It was hideous; that smell was fresh to his senses, and he could vomit from the potent scent of pure ammonia mixed with a sweetly decaying aroma of rotten flesh.

Manny squeezed his nostrils as tight as he could while backing away from the tree and nearing close to her.

"You'd better check your drive, because I'm no longer a fan of these woods anymore — hurry, does it have a second seat? I'll run if I have to. Break a knee if needed. Don't care."

"Okay... but seriously, if you're hurt, please don't hide it. I mean it when I'm saying I'll take responsibility, an' stuff." Thankfully, Svetlana tended to keep physical maps on her person, what with the trails being risky even without the majority of its trailblazers to utilize it in the off-season. Growing up in the Catskills the way she had, in a tiny hamlet with little for children to do, they'd been forced to entertain themselves. Probably for the better, but when other kids in her neighborhood began joining the Girl and Boy's Scouts, survivalism was something they'd passed on to her for the sheer fact that it had been something to do. And unlike her difficulties in school, she'd taken to it like a fish to water.

However, the brunette startled when the root lashed out and entwined around Manny's leg in a vice, instantly spurring Svetlana to action as she shouted in surprise and began digging through her backpack for her wicked-looking Bowie knife. Pulling off the leather sheath, Svetlana ducked and found a safe distance away from Manny, gripping it with the spine trained downwards where serrated grooves indented along its length, perfect for sawing as opposed to hacking.

With some consternation puckering her brow, Svetlana stood on the prehensile root and squatted, sawing through the relatively skinny limb that sprang free once she finished. Falling back on her rump from the recoil, she was about to unwind the offending root but decided against it, as she doubted a perfect stranger would appreciate being manhandled without permission. She blinked in surprise, standing slowly and gawked at the root as if it withdrew like a dejected tentacle.

Backpedaling away from the menacing looking-tree and sheathing her Bowie knife, Svetlana craned her neck as her gaze raked over the contorted, malevolent tree an mute horror. At the very least, it seemed almost like a trail marker, but without any signage nailed to the trunk. "Jesus, what the hell is going on?" she thought aloud in disbelief, stashing her knife away back within her backpack. Noticing that her bike was still at the base of the tree she'd collided into, her mind reeling as she righted it by the handlebars, the chain clicking as she walked back to where this new, distorted trail awaited them.

"Um... are you okay?" she asked the man with an uncertain expression, mind reeling. If she could locate the direction the sun shone, she'd be able to at least ascertain a sense of direction. Failing that, going by the stars could also work. But, as she glanced up at the sky, she couldn't pinpoint the location of a sun anywhere; it had probably already set. Worse still, it being so overcast meant she couldn't navigate by the stars, either.

"God dammit," Sveta swore an oath, wracking her mind with a solution. Sure, maybe this stranger wasn't her responsibility, but he seemed like a decent guy. And she wasn't about to let someone suffer the consequences of her fuck-up, despite the elephant in the room that demanded to be acknowledged: the very real, very supernatural goings-on that was a page from the legends of old Appalachia. No, she had to focus.