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"Maybe," she said mysteriously, neither denying it nor confirming it. She also put away her phone, then turned to him. I can escape. I can escape. I'm not trapped. "So, why are you on the run?"
hey fellas im starting a new roleplay ((one on one, closed but open to stalkers))
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"i'm media!" he puffed out his chest slightly, grin returning.
"all those articles about stories you thought the government had under wraps? i wrote 'em! but the watch hates my guts, so i have to run." he gave a small laugh, but it quickly turned into coughing and retching as he leaned over, holding his stomach.
when he recovered he popped back up, smile slightly forced. "what about you?"
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She narrowed her eyes at his little fit but didn't comment on it. "Well, you already guessed half of it." She did a little two-finger salute with a smirk. "I break into secret government facilities, expose them, sometimes burn them down to cinders if I'm in the mood. Murderer, thief, just a general public nuisance and one of the most wanted criminals. Also wanted by mad scientists."
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"rad." he chirped, starting to rub his wrists. "if you ever need a hideout, you're always welcome down here. you'd be a legend among the media, but i figure you don't want to reveal yourself. i don't work with them anyway." nik winked, going from his wrists to popping his knuckles.
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She snorted. "Practically everybody knows me. Theresa Hunt, the poor, poor child that got beat to shit with a crowbar by her foster brother when she was 12. Theresa Hunt, the savage murderer that killed said foster brother for no apparent reason. Theresa Hunt, the bloodthirsty killer that would kick a puppy and watch a building burn for the hell of it. Theresa Hunt, a danger to society that should be mowed down for her sins." Her voice was sarcastic, and she rolled her eyes. "Basically what all the headlines said over the past few years. If I were worried about revealing myself, I've certainly done a shit job of keeping my exploits under wraps."
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"oh, let me correct myself. theresa hunt, you're already a legend among the media, and they'd trip over themselves just to get an interview." he pulled a pen from behind his ear, tapping it on his lips for a moment.
"although… i'm honestly surprised you haven't seen me before. i've documented quite a few of your crash-and-burn situations."
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"I don't pay much attention to the media. It's usually just slamming me," she said simply, shrugging and darting her eyes around the space. I'm not trapped. I can escape. "When's your friend coming? These freaking stitches are startin' to burn like crazy."
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"he should be here right about… now."
two thumps echoed through the room as two people dropped down. nik jogged over and embraced the tanner, taller guy, and shook hands with the smaller, pale woman.
"here they are. this is zan, my friend-" he gestured towards the male. "-and my friend's friend, dr. rose. she'll be the one to do your stitches."
(timeskip?)
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(Sure, but you'll have to start it. I don't know exactly when you'd want to skip to)
Tess offered a small wave. "Just focus on the stitches and nothing more, and we won't have a problem." She really hated doctors, but she supposed she could make an exception just this one time.
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(timeskip like,, to after the doctoring is done i guess? are you good with that)
rose smiled gently. "got it." nik grabbed zan's hand and fled to the ledge above them, sitting and talking quietly with him while rose worked below.
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(Yeah)
Time Skip
Once Rose was done bandaging her back, Tess rolled her shoulders to get a feel for her limits. Her now bloodsoaked shirt was tossed on the floor beside her. "Thanks," she muttered. She wasn't uncomfortable with the amount of exposed skin, just a little self-conscious of all the scars peppering her torso–especially the thick and nasty one that ran straight down her middle from just below her chest to her navel. That one was caused by multiple sloppy incisions made in the same place over and over again. Reason why she hated doctors and scientists.
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nik peeked down from the ledge.
"you good?"
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"Yeah, just need a new shirt." She stretched out her arms, still testing the limits of the stitches.
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his face disappeared, and after some rustling he threw a blouse down to her. he jumped down after it, waiting for zan to pick his way down.
"hopefully it fits. i have uhh… two more options if it doesn't."
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She raised a brow as she caught the blouse. "Should I question or not?" She pulled it on. It was a bit bigger than her actual size, but she didn't complain. Whatever works.
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he dusted himself off and cocked an eyebrow.
"you could, i don't think you'd like any of the answers i give you."
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"So that's a no." She placed her hands on her hips. "You know my name. I have yet to get yours. You are responsible for my being here and torn stitches." Okay, she was still a little pissed about that.
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he gave a theatrical bow. "i'm nik, media extraordinaire at your service."
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"Nik, " she said, trying out the name. "Nope, don't believe I've ever heard of you." She looked around, crossing her arms to hide the slight shaking. "Well, I appreciate your friend fixing me up, but I gotta go and conclude some business. Unless you need me for something?" She raised a brow.
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"nothing's needed here. good luck with the business. you know the way out, correct?"
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"Yup," she said, popping the P, and already on her way out. She paused though and turned to Nik. "I'm bored, so feel free to track me down should you want to cause some trouble." And with that, she left with a mocking salute and smirk.
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(timeskip to when he tracks her down?)
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(Sure)
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on some roof in the corner of the district, nik lay on his back and hummed. nothing had happened for a while, and he was swiftly running out of resources. he didn't love mooching off of zan, but he was about to have to if he wanted to live.
it was boring, too. if only…
wait.
he leapt up, leaning over the edge of the roof and listening hard. maybe she'd be near the estate apartments?
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Today was a really good day.
She pulled the clip out of the grenade with her teeth and tossed it into the window of the building she was near. She had found a hit on some guy that lived here and took it. The best part? It was one of her old foster parents.
Karma, bitch.
She backed away as the apartment blew, covering her face with an arm to protect her eyes from flying debris.
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nik had been wandering the borders of the neon district when he heard a teeth-shattering boom. he saw a distant explosion to go with it.
must be her.
he tightened the strap of his camera bag and took off towards where the sound had faded, reaching the area after a few minutes of hard running. nik surveyed the wreckage, pulling out his camera and turning it on.
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Tessa was perched on a nearby street lamp, one leg dangling off of it as she watched Nik with vague amusement. "I see the local picture boy has shown up to see my masterpiece. Don't feel too bad–the dude was a douche. I should know."
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"oh i'm not feeling bad. only rich folk lived here." he eyed the destruction with an out-of-character glint in his gaze.
after he had taken some pictures, he turned to tessa. "so, you said to find you to cause some mischief?"
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She grinned and leaned forward, holding her body up and keeping balance with her hands wrapped around the street light. "What kind of mischief did you have in mind?"
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"the mayor's son, noah. he needs to be taught a lesson. no death or crippling involved, but…"
he finally took off his hat, erasing the shadow it cast across his eyes.
"this could be fun. you in?"