[Feel free to jump in or PM me! No text talking or one liners. One paragraph is fine, but feel free to put multi paragraphs! If anything becomes sexual, please bring it to the DMs to not clog the forum and to respect other's playing. Some may not want to see it, Thanks 
]
It's dark and musty in the streets of San Diego at night, the subtle tang of coppery blood hanging in the air. A bloodied man leans heavily against a wet wall of a supermarket building, while standing over the mangled shape of a dismembered body. A light rain in the heat of the night begins to fall and wash away the pool of blood under the dead and injured man, his long black hair sticking to his scalp and clothes slashed open. Sirens in the far distance wail, sending a wave of mixed feelings of anxiety and relief over him.
*Falon sighs heavily as he feels the large amounts of blood leaving his body. Although numb to the pain, he's very aware of how close he is to accepting his fate* It's been a long time coming *he thinks as he sinks to the ground and sits lazily against the wall that's quickly becoming slick with his blood and the rain beginning to pour* Guess this is it.. man I really screwed up... I guess this isn't so bad though...... I just wish I could have seen him again and told him what happened so he's not to worried.... *Falon breathes laboriously while he fondly reflects on his father, eyes watering with the strong emotions*
]It's dark and musty in the streets of San Diego at night, the subtle tang of coppery blood hanging in the air. A bloodied man leans heavily against a wet wall of a supermarket building, while standing over the mangled shape of a dismembered body. A light rain in the heat of the night begins to fall and wash away the pool of blood under the dead and injured man, his long black hair sticking to his scalp and clothes slashed open. Sirens in the far distance wail, sending a wave of mixed feelings of anxiety and relief over him.
*Falon sighs heavily as he feels the large amounts of blood leaving his body. Although numb to the pain, he's very aware of how close he is to accepting his fate* It's been a long time coming *he thinks as he sinks to the ground and sits lazily against the wall that's quickly becoming slick with his blood and the rain beginning to pour* Guess this is it.. man I really screwed up... I guess this isn't so bad though...... I just wish I could have seen him again and told him what happened so he's not to worried.... *Falon breathes laboriously while he fondly reflects on his father, eyes watering with the strong emotions*
Meleck wrote:
Name: Aiyana "Whispers" Smoke
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Ethnicity: Native American
Height: 5'6"
Build: Lithe, wiry
Occupation: Healer, Shaman
Lifestyle: Nomadic, lives on the streets
Physical Description:
Aiyana has a strong, defined face with high cheekbones and a weathered, earthy-brown complexion. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes hold an intense, knowing gaze, often seen as piercing and wise. Her expression is calm, with a soft, mysterious smile that rarely reveals her inner thoughts.
Hair: Long black hair streaked with silver, typically worn loose or in braids. She decorates her hair with feathers, beads, and charms made from bone and wood.
Eyes: Dark brown, almost black, holding a deep wisdom and an ability to see beyond the surface. Her gaze feels ancient, as if she can read people's souls.
Clothing: Aiyana wears layers of earth-toned clothing—brown, gray, and green—made from practical, worn fabrics. Her garments are adorned with small trinkets, feathers, and natural symbols. She blends seamlessly into her surroundings, often moving quietly and unnoticed.
Tattoos & Markings: She bears subtle, faded tattoos on her forearms and shoulders, depicting spiritual symbols and animals from her shamanic lineage.
Posture & Movement: Aiyana moves with quiet, deliberate grace, her posture open and grounding. Her steps are fluid, and she has a presence that commands attention despite her unassuming appearance.
Personality:
Aiyana is quiet, deeply observant, and often communicates in soft, measured tones. She speaks in riddles and metaphors, offering advice only when needed. Though she lives on the margins of society, she holds an immense inner strength and spiritual grounding, which draws others to her. She is a deeply empathetic person, able to sense both physical and emotional pain in others, but she bears this burden lightly, releasing it through her rituals. Her presence is calm, and her wisdom is undeniable, but she remains humble, connected to both the earth and the spiritual world.
Abilities:
- Herbal Medicine & Healing Rituals: Aiyana is a master herbalist, using plants to create medicinal teas, salves, and poultices. Her healing methods include chants, smoke rituals, and touch, working both physically and spiritually to heal those in need.
- Empathic Healing: She possesses the ability to sense the pain of others through touch, both physical and emotional. Her touch brings relief, as she can absorb and release the pain back into the earth.
- Spiritual Visions: During intense healing sessions, Aiyana receives visions—fragmented, symbolic images of the past, present, or future. These visions guide her healing process and spiritual insight.
- Connection with Nature: Her bond with nature is profound. She can sense weather shifts, find hidden plants for her remedies, and read the land in a way others cannot. She’s deeply attuned to the earth’s energies.
Spirit Animal:
Aiyana’s spirit animal is the owl, symbolizing wisdom, intuition, and the ability to see through darkness. The owl mirrors her quiet, observant nature and her role as a spiritual guide. Its silent flight and sharp talons represent her power to heal without being noticed, while her vision pierces into the spiritual realm, just as the owl sees into the night.
History & Background:
Aiyana comes from a long line of Native American shamans, who inherited ancient healing practices and spiritual wisdom from their ancestors. Her family, once revered, faded into obscurity as the modern world moved away from such traditions. Aiyana embraced her roots and chose a nomadic life on the streets, believing her purpose is to heal and guide those who need it most.
Over the years, she has wandered through urban environments, offering her healing to the lost, wounded, and broken. Though she appears homeless, Aiyana is rich in spirit and deeply connected to nature, carrying her ancestors' wisdom.
Run-ins with the Law:
Living a transient lifestyle has occasionally put Aiyana at odds with the law. She has been arrested or harassed for loitering or vagrancy, particularly when she performs her healing rituals in public spaces. However, her calm and non-confrontational demeanor typically diffuses tense situations, and she is often seen as a harmless, if eccentric, street figure. Though the authorities may see her as a vagrant, many locals know her as a healer and leave her be, respecting her work and presence.
Tattoos & Markings:
Her body bears symbolic tattoos, including animals and spiritual symbols passed down through her shamanic lineage. They are faint and blend into her sun-worn skin, acting as a constant reminder of her spiritual journey and connection to the earth. Each tattoo tells a part of her story, representing a different stage of her growth as a healer and spiritual guide.
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Ethnicity: Native American
Height: 5'6"
Build: Lithe, wiry
Occupation: Healer, Shaman
Lifestyle: Nomadic, lives on the streets
Physical Description:
Aiyana has a strong, defined face with high cheekbones and a weathered, earthy-brown complexion. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes hold an intense, knowing gaze, often seen as piercing and wise. Her expression is calm, with a soft, mysterious smile that rarely reveals her inner thoughts.
Hair: Long black hair streaked with silver, typically worn loose or in braids. She decorates her hair with feathers, beads, and charms made from bone and wood.
Eyes: Dark brown, almost black, holding a deep wisdom and an ability to see beyond the surface. Her gaze feels ancient, as if she can read people's souls.
Clothing: Aiyana wears layers of earth-toned clothing—brown, gray, and green—made from practical, worn fabrics. Her garments are adorned with small trinkets, feathers, and natural symbols. She blends seamlessly into her surroundings, often moving quietly and unnoticed.
Tattoos & Markings: She bears subtle, faded tattoos on her forearms and shoulders, depicting spiritual symbols and animals from her shamanic lineage.
Posture & Movement: Aiyana moves with quiet, deliberate grace, her posture open and grounding. Her steps are fluid, and she has a presence that commands attention despite her unassuming appearance.
Personality:
Aiyana is quiet, deeply observant, and often communicates in soft, measured tones. She speaks in riddles and metaphors, offering advice only when needed. Though she lives on the margins of society, she holds an immense inner strength and spiritual grounding, which draws others to her. She is a deeply empathetic person, able to sense both physical and emotional pain in others, but she bears this burden lightly, releasing it through her rituals. Her presence is calm, and her wisdom is undeniable, but she remains humble, connected to both the earth and the spiritual world.
Abilities:
- Herbal Medicine & Healing Rituals: Aiyana is a master herbalist, using plants to create medicinal teas, salves, and poultices. Her healing methods include chants, smoke rituals, and touch, working both physically and spiritually to heal those in need.
- Empathic Healing: She possesses the ability to sense the pain of others through touch, both physical and emotional. Her touch brings relief, as she can absorb and release the pain back into the earth.
- Spiritual Visions: During intense healing sessions, Aiyana receives visions—fragmented, symbolic images of the past, present, or future. These visions guide her healing process and spiritual insight.
- Connection with Nature: Her bond with nature is profound. She can sense weather shifts, find hidden plants for her remedies, and read the land in a way others cannot. She’s deeply attuned to the earth’s energies.
Spirit Animal:
Aiyana’s spirit animal is the owl, symbolizing wisdom, intuition, and the ability to see through darkness. The owl mirrors her quiet, observant nature and her role as a spiritual guide. Its silent flight and sharp talons represent her power to heal without being noticed, while her vision pierces into the spiritual realm, just as the owl sees into the night.
History & Background:
Aiyana comes from a long line of Native American shamans, who inherited ancient healing practices and spiritual wisdom from their ancestors. Her family, once revered, faded into obscurity as the modern world moved away from such traditions. Aiyana embraced her roots and chose a nomadic life on the streets, believing her purpose is to heal and guide those who need it most.
Over the years, she has wandered through urban environments, offering her healing to the lost, wounded, and broken. Though she appears homeless, Aiyana is rich in spirit and deeply connected to nature, carrying her ancestors' wisdom.
Run-ins with the Law:
Living a transient lifestyle has occasionally put Aiyana at odds with the law. She has been arrested or harassed for loitering or vagrancy, particularly when she performs her healing rituals in public spaces. However, her calm and non-confrontational demeanor typically diffuses tense situations, and she is often seen as a harmless, if eccentric, street figure. Though the authorities may see her as a vagrant, many locals know her as a healer and leave her be, respecting her work and presence.
Tattoos & Markings:
Her body bears symbolic tattoos, including animals and spiritual symbols passed down through her shamanic lineage. They are faint and blend into her sun-worn skin, acting as a constant reminder of her spiritual journey and connection to the earth. Each tattoo tells a part of her story, representing a different stage of her growth as a healer and spiritual guide.
i love this character, would love to see you save it to your profille! are you planning on rp with her here?
The night was a friend of Owl. Silent wings moved in the night even as the rain fell.
The warmth of the day had been draining off as the shaman sat in an open entryway of a dive apartment building. It would be about another twenty minutes till the building manager checked the security cameras then he would call the police to move her along. There was a freshness to the air. All the pollutants of the day were being washed out of it. The old produce would soon be thrown into the dumpster. Old bread, apples, oranges, and exotic fruits. The produce manager would have left her a small care package behind the grocery store so she would not have to dig through the dumpster. Their first meeting was her exiting the dumpster with a bag of four three-day-old baguettes and an apple in her hand.
“At least I am not a rat,” she said trying to be playful to the surprised man.
The streets of the city were filled with rats, some with long tails, some walking on two feet. Owl disliked rats and so did she.
She had closed her eyes as she thought about that first encounter. In her ear, there was a sound of violence. It came from down the street and from the alleyway a direction she knew well.
“Come children,” she said to a pair of teenagers who had been smuggled across the border only to find that the land of opportunity was also a land of darkness. A problem she knew too well. Her life on the streets was better than her life on the reservation.
Like a owl, Aiyana moved silently through the rain-soaked streets, her weathered shawl pulled tightly around her shoulders. She sensed the anguish before she saw the scene—blood, the unmistakable scent of death hanging heavy in the humid night air. Her dark eyes flicked toward the distant wail of sirens, but her pace remained steady. The city’s chaos is a song she’s grown accustomed to. The sirens were heading for somewhere else, but soon there would be sirens as the scene was found.
Approaching the bloodied man and the dismembered body her senses sharpen. The rain mingles with the blood, trying in vain to wash away the evidence of violence. Aiyana kneels beside the broken figure with the gentleness of someone who has seen too much suffering. Without a word, she places her weathered hand on his shoulder, her touch cool against his fevered skin. She does not flinch at the sight of his wounds, nor at the life ebbing slowly from his body.
In the stillness of the moment, she whispers, her voice barely audible over the falling rain, but steady—like a thread tying him back to the world.
"Not yet, child of pain," she says, her breath warm and calming despite the severity of the scene. "There are truths still waiting for you to carry, burdens still to release."
Her touch deepens, almost imperceptibly, as if drawing some of his suffering away, into herself, easing his burden. Her eyes, black and infinite, look into his, searching, guiding him back from the edge of surrender.
"Your spirit calls for rest, but the earth is not finished with you yet."
Waving to the children, who had stayed back.
She said in a commanding tone, “Get ready to help me move him.”
Watching young eyes, “And no don’t touch that body.”
The rain falls harder, but within her presence, there is only calm. She waits, silent and patient, for Falcon to decide if he is willing to heed the call of life once more.
The warmth of the day had been draining off as the shaman sat in an open entryway of a dive apartment building. It would be about another twenty minutes till the building manager checked the security cameras then he would call the police to move her along. There was a freshness to the air. All the pollutants of the day were being washed out of it. The old produce would soon be thrown into the dumpster. Old bread, apples, oranges, and exotic fruits. The produce manager would have left her a small care package behind the grocery store so she would not have to dig through the dumpster. Their first meeting was her exiting the dumpster with a bag of four three-day-old baguettes and an apple in her hand.
“At least I am not a rat,” she said trying to be playful to the surprised man.
The streets of the city were filled with rats, some with long tails, some walking on two feet. Owl disliked rats and so did she.
She had closed her eyes as she thought about that first encounter. In her ear, there was a sound of violence. It came from down the street and from the alleyway a direction she knew well.
“Come children,” she said to a pair of teenagers who had been smuggled across the border only to find that the land of opportunity was also a land of darkness. A problem she knew too well. Her life on the streets was better than her life on the reservation.
Like a owl, Aiyana moved silently through the rain-soaked streets, her weathered shawl pulled tightly around her shoulders. She sensed the anguish before she saw the scene—blood, the unmistakable scent of death hanging heavy in the humid night air. Her dark eyes flicked toward the distant wail of sirens, but her pace remained steady. The city’s chaos is a song she’s grown accustomed to. The sirens were heading for somewhere else, but soon there would be sirens as the scene was found.
Approaching the bloodied man and the dismembered body her senses sharpen. The rain mingles with the blood, trying in vain to wash away the evidence of violence. Aiyana kneels beside the broken figure with the gentleness of someone who has seen too much suffering. Without a word, she places her weathered hand on his shoulder, her touch cool against his fevered skin. She does not flinch at the sight of his wounds, nor at the life ebbing slowly from his body.
In the stillness of the moment, she whispers, her voice barely audible over the falling rain, but steady—like a thread tying him back to the world.
"Not yet, child of pain," she says, her breath warm and calming despite the severity of the scene. "There are truths still waiting for you to carry, burdens still to release."
Her touch deepens, almost imperceptibly, as if drawing some of his suffering away, into herself, easing his burden. Her eyes, black and infinite, look into his, searching, guiding him back from the edge of surrender.
"Your spirit calls for rest, but the earth is not finished with you yet."
Waving to the children, who had stayed back.
She said in a commanding tone, “Get ready to help me move him.”
Watching young eyes, “And no don’t touch that body.”
The rain falls harder, but within her presence, there is only calm. She waits, silent and patient, for Falcon to decide if he is willing to heed the call of life once more.
*falon’s eyes fly open suddenly sharp with adrenaline. He tenses as he looks around, catching sight of the gaggle of children and the native woman in front of him. Anxiety hangs over his shoulders as he glances down to his bloodied body* um.. they probably shouldn’t be here.. it’s pretty dangerous. Plus… I’m not in exactly the state to hide my innards *he chuckles wincing at the movement, the large open wounds exposing deep inside of him*
"Go find a shopping cart, and look to see if there are any strange cars parked around her," she said then nodding her head at the boy.
"You go watch him," she said to the girl.
The young girl looked scared keeping her hands in front of her chest and her arms against her body.
Reaching for her bag, she undid the ties pulling out clean cloth and bandages.
Looking back at Falcon and in a cold and harsh tone, she replied, "We have seen worse."
The streets were full of violence, drug dealers, gangs, pimps, college kids looking for excitement, and people like them.
Whisper was not normally a woman of violence. Her facial expressions showed that she knew Falcon's type. The other body confirmed it. Even with that, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder making sure he laid back. She closed her eyes and asked the spirits to guide her with the thoughts, *What have I gotten myself into now?*
She exhaled and then looking into Falcon's eyes. She asked him the important question, "Do you want to go to your ancestors, or do you want me to save you?"
Her gaze was deep and piercing and she did not blink. She was not sure if she could save him, but she did know where she could get medicine to ease the pain.
She held up a small knife and bandages in her left hand ready to start caring for his wounds.
"You go watch him," she said to the girl.
The young girl looked scared keeping her hands in front of her chest and her arms against her body.
Reaching for her bag, she undid the ties pulling out clean cloth and bandages.
Looking back at Falcon and in a cold and harsh tone, she replied, "We have seen worse."
The streets were full of violence, drug dealers, gangs, pimps, college kids looking for excitement, and people like them.
Whisper was not normally a woman of violence. Her facial expressions showed that she knew Falcon's type. The other body confirmed it. Even with that, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder making sure he laid back. She closed her eyes and asked the spirits to guide her with the thoughts, *What have I gotten myself into now?*
She exhaled and then looking into Falcon's eyes. She asked him the important question, "Do you want to go to your ancestors, or do you want me to save you?"
Her gaze was deep and piercing and she did not blink. She was not sure if she could save him, but she did know where she could get medicine to ease the pain.
She held up a small knife and bandages in her left hand ready to start caring for his wounds.
*Falon huffed and peeled away his shirt from his scabbing wounds* just because you’ve seen it before doesn’t make it any more right or any less dangerous. Coiled snake is still a coiled snake. The kids need to go, I don’t know if anyone’s going to come looking for these 3 *his eyes flickered to the corpses and back to the woman* I’m sure they’re expected back and children are not off limits to them. *he grits his teeth, dizzy with nausea from bloodloss*
She pushed a little harder as she bandaged him to show her displeasure at his tone.
She snorted at the good and bad comments he made as she listened. This was the streets where people stole from others, drugs, violence, and sex were common. Even she was not above shoplifting and there was that constant pull to return to using. She had been drugged and trafficked as a child on and off the reservation. She had spent a year in juvenile detention for drug changes and prostitution. Returning home, she ran away from home. Her story was not unique on the res, and she did not discuss it.
"People live like animals. Snakes bring the rain," Whisper said pointing to the sky with her head and then moving him slightly.
" Snakes are tricksters and liars," She said as she tied the bandages in place.
"They try to scare you. You strike them and wait for them to bleed out," she said.
As she rocked and sat back to watch, he kneed and back wet from the rains as the kids returned with a Home Depot flat cart. They would be able to roll him without much more blood loss.
"You need food and a place to rest, and I can't carry you," she said nodding to the boy.
"If you try to do it yourself, you will bleed out. He can if I help him," she added.
"She is a rabbit that has had bad things done to her," Whispers said quieter.
She spoke in street Spanish to the girl, "Go get the food."
To the boy, "Bring the cart here. Use a plastic bag to pick up any weapons. Don't touch them with your hands."
She would turn them in later for gift cards for food in the winter.
The boy spoke back, "Can't I take their rings and get the money from his pockets?"
With a head spin like an owl she shot back, "No, taking things makes you part of this. The evil from here will follow you."
Then looking at Falcon, "I will send them someplace safe after I get you somewhere you can recover."
She snorted at the good and bad comments he made as she listened. This was the streets where people stole from others, drugs, violence, and sex were common. Even she was not above shoplifting and there was that constant pull to return to using. She had been drugged and trafficked as a child on and off the reservation. She had spent a year in juvenile detention for drug changes and prostitution. Returning home, she ran away from home. Her story was not unique on the res, and she did not discuss it.
"People live like animals. Snakes bring the rain," Whisper said pointing to the sky with her head and then moving him slightly.
" Snakes are tricksters and liars," She said as she tied the bandages in place.
"They try to scare you. You strike them and wait for them to bleed out," she said.
As she rocked and sat back to watch, he kneed and back wet from the rains as the kids returned with a Home Depot flat cart. They would be able to roll him without much more blood loss.
"You need food and a place to rest, and I can't carry you," she said nodding to the boy.
"If you try to do it yourself, you will bleed out. He can if I help him," she added.
"She is a rabbit that has had bad things done to her," Whispers said quieter.
She spoke in street Spanish to the girl, "Go get the food."
To the boy, "Bring the cart here. Use a plastic bag to pick up any weapons. Don't touch them with your hands."
She would turn them in later for gift cards for food in the winter.
The boy spoke back, "Can't I take their rings and get the money from his pockets?"
With a head spin like an owl she shot back, "No, taking things makes you part of this. The evil from here will follow you."
Then looking at Falcon, "I will send them someplace safe after I get you somewhere you can recover."
So you'd rather expose them anyway? That's some sick thinking. A child is still a child no matter their family or history. *he hisses at the rough handling, but glares defiantly. His irritation came in flashes, his body weak and tired and fighting against his instinct to shout as he's in no position. A sound of chattering voices down the street caught his attention and he froze in fear. Not for his safety, but the vulnerability of everyone in the alley* Go. If you insist on taking me with you then circle back, but do not be caught here. These are not people you want seeing your face. The clinking of daggers being picked up by the child made him cringe and he prayed he never had to see another child holding a weapon again. The rain began falling harder, completely drenching everything and masking some of their sounds in the heavy down pour*
She stopped and gave him a hard look.
"Children on the street end up dead. They are still alive and not users. So, What does that tell you?" She said in a tone with a bit of anger.
"I want to lead them out of this life. But, the system out there is broken. Foster care, juvie, rehab, all broken. They are not intended to give these children a hand up, but to keep them in their place," she said pointing out of the alley.
"I don't know where you are from but from down here six-year-olds push meth, twelve-year-olds are doing tricks, kids their age kill people for respect, all so some rich person can get their high, for power, or money. Yeah, it is sick! They did not choose it. None of us get a choice, but here we are!" She said pulling up her shirt and showing multiple scars and marks on her abdomen.
Hearing the voices she stopped. Turning she started yelling at the children. Grabbing the bag with weapons throwing it down so it slid near Falcon. Then grabbing arms, she headed with them for the street.
A gun appeared in the hand of one of the men hidden as he headed up the alley.
"We were looking for food," she said to the men as they approached.
Turning and looking over her shoulder, other men were coming into the other end of the alley.
Whisper pushed the children to the sides of the alleyway so they could hide.
"Children on the street end up dead. They are still alive and not users. So, What does that tell you?" She said in a tone with a bit of anger.
"I want to lead them out of this life. But, the system out there is broken. Foster care, juvie, rehab, all broken. They are not intended to give these children a hand up, but to keep them in their place," she said pointing out of the alley.
"I don't know where you are from but from down here six-year-olds push meth, twelve-year-olds are doing tricks, kids their age kill people for respect, all so some rich person can get their high, for power, or money. Yeah, it is sick! They did not choose it. None of us get a choice, but here we are!" She said pulling up her shirt and showing multiple scars and marks on her abdomen.
Hearing the voices she stopped. Turning she started yelling at the children. Grabbing the bag with weapons throwing it down so it slid near Falcon. Then grabbing arms, she headed with them for the street.
A gun appeared in the hand of one of the men hidden as he headed up the alley.
"We were looking for food," she said to the men as they approached.
Turning and looking over her shoulder, other men were coming into the other end of the alley.
Whisper pushed the children to the sides of the alleyway so they could hide.
*falon slowed his breathing and relaxed hoping to appear as dead as he felt. The group pushed past Whisper and walked around the bodies on the floor, giving one swift kick to Falon in the stomach. The pain alone put falon on the cusp of passing out, not to mention reopening the wounds that had begun to clot. They laughed and swore intermingling their chatter and walked away once satisfied with the current fall out. Once falon was sure they were gone he coughed to himself and began swear, tears pricking his eyes. His phone lit up against the dark as rain continued to fall and buzzed demanding attention. Slowly Falon answered and put it on speaker doing his best to steady his breathing. An older male voice responding in Korean echoing on the line," Son, where are you? It's late and dinner is cold. I know you're out looking for information on that girl, but i already told you its late and you can ask around in the morning."* Ba, I can't make it I'm sorry. Just put it in the fridge and eat it later. *the old man is heard scoffing," Excuse you, but you have to eat to. It's late and you need to come home and sleep. Try again in the morning."* Ba, No. *falons voice cracks* I'm fine. Save it for later. I'm gonna stay out and i'll get home maybe later. SarangHae *Falon ends the call abruptly, letting tears fall*
"They are all dead," the healer said to the men.
"He went into shock and died," she added, "The other men died before they hit the ground."
She looked the back of the men as they slowed.
"The police should be making a patrol soon. Normally, they would have come past by now," she added.
"He went into shock and died," she added, "The other men died before they hit the ground."
She looked the back of the men as they slowed.
"The police should be making a patrol soon. Normally, they would have come past by now," she added.
*the men leave the scene hurrying away before the cops get there leaving Fallon to sob into the falling rain and fall over. He lays in the puddle of water on the ground no longer leaning on the wall as emotion takes over him*
Whisper watches as the men do a quick examination of the area.
She watches their faces then turns and walks out of the alley when they do.
Whisper says to one of the men near her as they walked, "Can I bumb a smoke? I haven't had one for a week."
Reaching in his pocket he pulled out an open pack of cigarettes and tossed it to her.
She missed the catch and let it fall to the ground. Picking it up with her sleeves, she said "Thanks"
Still using her shirt, she pulled one out and placed it between her lips. Then she put the pack in her bag.
She did as Falcon had suggested. She went back around the block through several alleyways to ensure no one was following her and then returned to Falcon.
Her children were back watching from the shadows.
The weapon bag was missing.
"Dumb things," Whisper said.
She knew where the knives went and who had picked them up.
Looking at Falcon she asked, "Want to explain why you have some government agents or corporate security after you?"
The black suits, brown shoes shined like mirrors, the style of shoulder holsters, and one had a badge clipped on his shirt pocket.
Her children returned empty-handed.
To the boy she said, "You could not help yourself! If you touched them the weapons evil spirits are going to follow you. Bring them back."
Again she looked at Falcon trying to decide if she should help him or not.
She watches their faces then turns and walks out of the alley when they do.
Whisper says to one of the men near her as they walked, "Can I bumb a smoke? I haven't had one for a week."
Reaching in his pocket he pulled out an open pack of cigarettes and tossed it to her.
She missed the catch and let it fall to the ground. Picking it up with her sleeves, she said "Thanks"
Still using her shirt, she pulled one out and placed it between her lips. Then she put the pack in her bag.
She did as Falcon had suggested. She went back around the block through several alleyways to ensure no one was following her and then returned to Falcon.
Her children were back watching from the shadows.
The weapon bag was missing.
"Dumb things," Whisper said.
She knew where the knives went and who had picked them up.
Looking at Falcon she asked, "Want to explain why you have some government agents or corporate security after you?"
The black suits, brown shoes shined like mirrors, the style of shoulder holsters, and one had a badge clipped on his shirt pocket.
Her children returned empty-handed.
To the boy she said, "You could not help yourself! If you touched them the weapons evil spirits are going to follow you. Bring them back."
Again she looked at Falcon trying to decide if she should help him or not.
*thunder boomed with lightning as it illuminated the alley* it’s not a corporate… *falon murmured calmed after his good cry* they are a gang that controls the slave trade here.. they took a friend and killed her little sister… *talon all but whispered in response, feeling defeated in every way as his strength rapidly left him. With his Korean history, he felt the weight of shame on his family begin to sap what little bit of resolve he had* hey lady… can you call my ba later and tell him that I passed and won’t come home.. *Fallon asked deciding that his failure would really be his end*
"If you would like help now, we can get you to a warm place out of the rain. Maybe even get you some warm food and some pain medication to help you heal," Whisper said with a bit more compassion. She did not understand male pride and Korean Male pride made even less sense to her.
Looking at Falcon she asked the big question, "Did he pick up the bag with the knives?"
Looking at Falcon she asked the big question, "Did he pick up the bag with the knives?"
*falon shrugged* I did not see the group take the bag with them. I wouldn’t expect them to take it since they aren’t worried about getting caught. They have government connections and local police avoid them. *Fallon continued to lay on the ground and grunted as he slowly pushed himself to sit* but a nice warm place to lay down without giving my ba a heart attack would be nice… *he offers a small smile and eyes the kids in hiding* if your boy did take the bag there’s 3 knives that belong to me and it would be really kind of you to return them
Whisper gave the boy a look that could melt ice in the middle of winter.
The girl spoke up in broken English, "He hid them behind the dumpster over there." She pointed.
Walking over she picked up the bag and walked back.
"If you need the cart we can push you," she said with a head nod.
"Or if you think you can walk with help, he will help you and you can tell him about your knives as there are only four in the bag," Whisper said.
The girl spoke up in broken English, "He hid them behind the dumpster over there." She pointed.
Walking over she picked up the bag and walked back.
"If you need the cart we can push you," she said with a head nod.
"Or if you think you can walk with help, he will help you and you can tell him about your knives as there are only four in the bag," Whisper said.
*falon smirked and offered his arm to the boy and pulled himself up* if we don’t walk to far I can walk with him. I’ll even tell you all about how I got them… *he took his knives from the bag and first showed him an obsidian blade, looks almost military style but is just to thin to be one* this one is the first knife my ba ever gave me… *he grunts as they walk together in the rain* this blade *he then shows an emerald colored blade with the handle carved into that of dragon scales* this is a knife my friend Izelia gave me when we first crossed blades. She’s a good fighter.. she left the city a long time ago. Probably won’t hear from her for awhile.. *he becomes reminiscent and then shows a very small girlie purple blade with a bubblegum pink handle, a hello kitty charm dangling from it that’s been stained red from the battles blood* this one is one of my favorites. My friend.. the one who got taken gave this to me when she complained that self defense knives were to much and taking up space in her pockets… she learned I guess… *his voice drifts off as he stumbles along following the lady and walking with the boy*
Benito Secada, 13 M, listened with great interest.
"Maybe you can show me how to use them?" He asked quietly knowing that Whisper would not approve.
Officer Javion Wheeler and his partner Lt. Hernandez rolled by.
Whisper waved to them and gave the international "He's drunk" sign. Hoping that they would not notice the blood or bandages.
She slowed a bit to make sure she stood between the patrol car's dash camera and Falcon.
The routinely stopped her to talk about crimes that occurred in the neighborhood.
Whisper was not a snitch, but she might point them in the right direction at times for a warm meal and a hot cup of coffee.
They waved back while looking at Falcon and Benito talking.
Whisper took them down an alleyway to the back door of an apartment building and then down a flight of stairs. Pulling a wire out of her bag, she worked it through the latch and then pulled the door open. The room was warm and dry. There were no windows to the outside, but a pile of old mattresses, donated blankets, and boxes of donated clothes, and most importantly feminine hygiene products were on a set of shelves. A utility sink sat on one wall near the door.
"The apartment manager stores stuff for the mission," she whispered while holding the door.
"Through that door is the laundry room," she added.
"Maybe you can show me how to use them?" He asked quietly knowing that Whisper would not approve.
Officer Javion Wheeler and his partner Lt. Hernandez rolled by.
Whisper waved to them and gave the international "He's drunk" sign. Hoping that they would not notice the blood or bandages.
She slowed a bit to make sure she stood between the patrol car's dash camera and Falcon.
The routinely stopped her to talk about crimes that occurred in the neighborhood.
Whisper was not a snitch, but she might point them in the right direction at times for a warm meal and a hot cup of coffee.
They waved back while looking at Falcon and Benito talking.
Whisper took them down an alleyway to the back door of an apartment building and then down a flight of stairs. Pulling a wire out of her bag, she worked it through the latch and then pulled the door open. The room was warm and dry. There were no windows to the outside, but a pile of old mattresses, donated blankets, and boxes of donated clothes, and most importantly feminine hygiene products were on a set of shelves. A utility sink sat on one wall near the door.
"The apartment manager stores stuff for the mission," she whispered while holding the door.
"Through that door is the laundry room," she added.
I’ll think about it… don’t think someone your age should be wandering unprotected… *Fallon grimaces and shuts his eyes at the flashing cop lights hoping to appear drunk. As the cops pass he silently thanks his higher power for allowing them to make it here this far. The door swings open, musty air filling his nostrils* thanks… I honestly just want my insides to be inside now.. *he hobbles to a corner and grabs a blanket setting it down for a cushion and sits on it doing his best to relax* so mission for young kids or what exactly is your mission here? * Fallon asks as he looks around taking in the details of his hide away*
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