Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-25924729-20150904075152/@comment-25924729-20150921000608

“Um… sorry?” Laura still had no idea what Shani and Azzie were talking about. She knew they had a close relationship, after a series of training exercise and missions together a while back. Maybe they were sharing some secret? It irritated her not knowing.

She started to say something, but a distant explosion cut her off, followed by a crackle of lightning. It came from where Vale attacked them earlier, that can’t be a coincidence.

‘So much for the coast is clear…” she muttered. “C’mon, bus stop’s only 2 blocks away.”

--

Vale sniggered at the blond’s comment. ''“Honorable” he said. What honor? Assassins get the job done whatever it takes, honor and fair play aside.'' In fact, she wasn’t even planning on fighting him… She just needed to manipulate him into her trap, and it worked!

She raised her left arm, palm opened, her other hand gripping the elbow for balance and aim. Tattoos on the limb started glowing bright yellow, lightning Dust, as she calmly took aim.

A few details of the trap didn’t go as planned. The bikers were more disciplined than she expected, keeping guard instead of gawking at the fight. Also 4 Whitecoats were captured, she couldn’t help them now. But the general idea was there, the rest had huddled into a tight ball, perfect...

She fired. Not at the blond, but behind him. Three shots of pure energy raced towards the cluster of Whitecoats, detonating with the force of three lightning strikes. In such a tight group, electricity passed through their bodies easily, frying all of them instantly.

She turned and fired the remaining two shots at the motorcycles, creating a small explosion and making sure the bikers couldn’t chase her. In the ensuing chaos, Vale ran for the nearest building, using her semblance to latch on and climb to the roof.

…46 loose ends tied, 4 more captured, unable to save or eliminate them… She hoped the 4 men were smart enough to kill themselves before exposing Cult secrets to the bikers, or at least hold out until she could mount a rescue mission later. …Which leaves one more priority, myself…

The assassin ran for her life, sprinting across fooftops with catlike grace. With all the Whitecoats dead, the bikers would try to capture her now, as a last resort for interrogation. Putting on a burst of speed, she prayed that without their bikes, they would be slow.