#trinity vale

|| Trinity Vale || Faceclaim: Han Groo ||

The burning pain ripped through her side with every movement, her body groaning in protest to the ill treatment. Trinity’s breath came in fast, hard pants, the frigid air transforming them into clouds of rolling steam. She dropped quickly down the fire escape, pressing against the brick wall in case any of her pursuers had gotten this far. When her trained ears were met with nothing but silence, she elected to check the wound.

The bullet had buried itself deep into her side just below her tenth rib. In her desperate flea to evade her enemies, she had only succeeded in aggravating the already-angry wound, her side completely soaked in blood. She pressed her head backwards against the wall, taking only a moment to rest before rising again, ignoring the throbbing malady that threatened to tear her apart from the inside. Looking down to the street below, Trinity could see she was about four stories up, and in her present condition, she had no chance of making it to the ground.

Unable to conjure any other option, she slumped with the support of the railing over to the apartment window, the task of picking its lock prolonged by the numbness that was currently spreading through her fingers. Once the latch was undone, raising the window itself proved to be a much larger burden, the strain nearly toppling her with a new wave of anguish, and she knew for certain she felt the cascade of blood drip further down her leg. 

When the opening was wide enough, she climbed inside, pulling the dead-weight lower portion of her body into what she quickly realized was a kitchen. Drained of energy and nearing the end of her lucidity, she sat upon the counter adjacent to her entry, leaning heavily against the tiled wall. It was dark; the occupant of this residence didn’t seem to be home. Maybe she could rest for a few moments until-

The rattling of keys against a doorknob roused her from her semi-conscious state, her foggy mind only coming back to reality when the lights were turned on, rudely stabbing her retinas.

She heard the approaching footsteps and the rustling of a person doing the ordinary things one does when one arrives at one’s living place, and, acting on instinct in her state of delirium, Trinity did the one thing she always knew to do; she pulled out her gun.

Trinity’s blurry gaze remained stuck to the slightly cracked ceiling above her, but she aimed the weapon at whoever had just entered the room, knowing she had the right direction when their footsteps stopped and she could practically feel their pulse hammering in their chest.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she slurred with as much effort to be understandable as she could, though in truth this statement would have probably been more believable and more effective if she was not currently holding this apartment’s owner at gunpoint, her chest rising and falling laboriously and her head lolling slightly from the task of keeping it up, “I just needed somewhere to hide. I couldn’t let them find me.” She was sure by now her blood had dripped from the sink counter onto the floor, probably creating quite a mess for her new host that she had most likely already given a heart attack.

Trinity made an attempt to turn her head toward the person, the endeavor alone proving to be almost too much and her vision still far too bleary to make out the figure before her. “Please just let me stay a few minutes and I’ll leave, I’ll leave and never come back, please...I don’t wnt to hrt you...jst need a fw mre mntes...” Trinity was unsure how much of her words were intelligible, her awareness slipping rapidly from her grasp. Weariness finally her weakened form, she lowered her gun, distantly recognizing it clattering against the tile floor as it fell from her hand.

Her knees dug mercilessly into the gravelly stone floor, cutting through her worn jeans as she knelt by the fountain. Her breath came out in quick, frantic gasps as she splashed water into her face and soaked her arms, her jacket long discarded beside her. Dampened hair stuck to her cheeks and she shivered involuntarily against the cold breeze licking her skin raw. She continued her desperate endeavor, scooping and splattering more and more water against her skin as though trying to drown herself. A single street lamp cast the only desolate glow on the square at this late hour, but had it been high noon she would not have been able to see. 

     “So, tell me, do you deserve your life?”

Name: Trinity Vale

Faceclaim: Han Groo

Alias: Sulfur

Age: 19

Birthday: November 6th

Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Height: 168 cm

Weight: 50 kg

Species: Metahuman

Affiliation: None

Rank: Loner

Relatives: Unknown

Profession: Assassin

Place of Residence: Streets of Lompico District

Powers/Abilities: Acid Generation/Manipulation (specifically fluorosulphuric acid) + Minor Accelerated Healing + Weapons (mainly guns)

She inhaled silently, the cold air clawing at the sores in her throat. Releasing the breath, a small puff of condensed water vapor spilled mutely past her lips. She pulled up her hood, casting a shadow over her eyes, her fingers ghosting across the cool surface of the metal pistol she had tucked within her jeans.

She made no sound. Not even as her feet met the icy surface of the frozen ground beneath her as one by one she took her steps deliberately forward. Her target was in clear view now, the moonlight transforming him/her into an elegant midnight silhouette. She stalked her prey, each stride filled with purpose and masked with stealth. He/she was distracted. There was no one around. It was all too easy.