Setting
The structures themselves reflected a long history of turmoil. In some places buildings were patched from explosions, in others just the foundation remain. Between the deli's sat bunkers, and even the yards of the residents boasted doors to underground escapes, their roofs holding turrets high. Either way, it was apparent by the architecture that Wing City would be standing for a while.
Like any suburbopolis, the traffic was horrible. The only real time to drive was at night, when the hover-bike gangs and hot-rodders took their wheels for a spin.
Sophie rolled over in her seat and buried her face in the cushion, continuing to mutter to herself.
Of all the horrid luck...
Sophie's alcohol-addled mind took a good thirty seconds to put two and two together, but after those few moments she did reach the eventual conclusion of four.
"Shit."
Sophie slowly inched her eyes open, blinking blearily at the bar, and the multitude of armed men. "Shitshitshit..."
With a lack of stealth, the Rune Scrit dragged her bag (laden with three or four expensive books) and hooked it over her shoulder before peering about from beneath her table. As soon as the men left, she was out of here, and she would never leave her house again. Never ever.