Mel yawned, stretching and arching her back as she walked out to look out over the-- really really weird-- city. She had been here for about two weeks or so, and by god was she not getting any more used to it. The whole kicking-robot-sentries-who-were-trying-to-kill-her in the face was fun, though. At least that was something.
   It would be nice if she had her motorcycle, though. Or at least something from Harlithell other than the clothes on her back and her phone. Or, maybe, the ability to actually leave without the threat of being hypothetically shot twenty times in the chest.Â
   Mel blinked and stared at the sky, which was, for the fourteenth day in a row, overcast. Didnât seem like it was going to let up any time soon. She pulled her jacket hood ( did it count as a jacket if it was sleeveless? ) over her head and just jumped from the building she was standing on to the one across the street, hopping vaguely ballerina-like ( weirdly gracefully for her ) over all the cars and all the people.
   She wasnât used to jumping quite like that, however, so her landing was far less graceful-- stumbling forward and sort of pinwheeling her arms for a second before just. Falling on her chest. Groaning, she sat up and dusted the dirt off of her and just sort of sat there, staring off into space, before pulling her legs into a criss-cross pretzel and looking up at the sky, which looked less and less overcast and more and more ready-to-rain.
