“just don’t fuck it up.”
Ready, aim, fire. She didn’t need someone to tell her how to do her job. When Reaper insisted in coming along, she didn’t argue, but the little seed of annoyance within her grew. She preferred to savor her kills alone. Who needs backup when you’re this good?The assassin followed her enemy in her sights for some time : it was clear that her associate was getting agitated. “Patience, chérie.”Her target had split off from their group. A smile grew on her face. She took a deep breath…And grinned as they fell. There was something beautiful about watching the soul leave one’s body. Amelie always watched their eyes. When the spark faded, when the colour dulled, that was the spirit abandoning the dead husk of a person. The way the body lurched backwards from the force of the bullet and the curvature of the lifeless lump on the ground were also very satisfying. She took a moment to look at her kill, committing it to memory, before raising her visor and rising from her crouching position.“I do not “fuck up”.” She stated simply, flashing him a look. “Now, how many times must I ask you to watch your language?”
