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Anya Tavora

"I'm the angel of anarchy, bitch. Go on and try me."

0 · 760 views · located in Rune

a character in “Variant”, as played by Rhianoue

Description

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Bringer of goodness | Misfortune/Broken
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Warning: This whole CS contains foul language. And a lot of it.

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[ Name ]
Anya Tavora
"Yes, this is my name, but none of you little shits are allowed to use it."

[ Nicknames/Aliases ]
Angel of Anarchy ; Ann ; Tav
"Here's the deal: if you know me, I'll let you call me Ann or Tav. However, if you do not, you have no right to use my name and may only call me the Angel or Anarchy, because that's exactly what I am, baby."

[ Age ]
20
"I know, I've gotten many more compliments of how young and youthful I look, but that doesn't mean you call tell me that. Only at the club, hon."

[ Gender ]
Female
"Bitch, are you asking for a fight?"

[ ID Number ]
#00235
"I'm artificial, and there's nothing I can do about it. Those fuckers outside holding those stupid ass signs to get rid of us can go fuck off for all I care, because I'm still a goddamn person."

[ Occupation ]
Stripper ; Works in all three rings, although it seems as though she gets more of an audience in the lower ring...
"I'm not ashamed. Why should I be? It's not like I have sex with them or anything. It's a job. It's the only job I can do."

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[ Hair Color ]
Blonde
"Colorblind, are you?"

[ Eye Color ]
Bluish Green Hue
"It's an ocean color, as I like to call it; blue and green."

[ Skin Tone ]
Fair
"I get out of the house sometimes, so I'm not entirely pale."

[ Height ]
5'9
"I tower over most females, and I love it."

[ Weight ]
129 lbs
"Ask that question again and get slugged in the face, you rude motherfucker."

[ General Description ]
Anya has the body of a full grown woman, which is basically what she is. She has a large chest, a skinny waist, and beautiful thighs, the ideal paragon to men, thus explaining her job. Her hair is long, and straight, reaching just to her bottom and her eyes are a lovely sea color. As her main power is transmutation, most to the time she'll transform into an angel, whether it be when he's on her job or not, and two grand, white wings open from her back. Underneath her clothing, they're folded, and hidden.

The clothes that Anya prefers to wear, no matter the time of the day, will always be ones that she is comfortable with wearing. They'd better fit her curves just right, but also feel very comfortable and easy to wear. Some say she dresses like slut, but she only wears bikinis, or any sort of other intimate clothing, when she's at her job. Outside, as long as it fits nice and feels nice, she doesn't care. Clothes you'll often see her wear are biker jackets, tank tops, and shorts. These are clothes she'd wear out. When she decides to stay in the house, it's always sweatpants and sweatshirts.
"What I wear doesn't matter. Bitches outside are calling me a slut, but they're the ones wearing bathing suits in public out on the street. I wear it because it's my job."

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[ Likes ]
โœ” Winter || Winter is her break from her job, since she doesn't service in the cold months, and can wear warmer clothes to her liking.
โœ” Long Walks/Drives At Night || With a hood over her head or a helmet covering her face, she loves riding her motorcycle around the city at night, feeling the wind, and listening to the sound of passing cars and people talking.
โœ” Singing || Before becoming a stripper, she wanted to be a singer, with a beautiful, yet powerful angelic voice, but was turned down in the end. She still does it as a hobby though.

[ Dislikes ]
x Sex/Romance || Anya doesn't seem to take interest in either. Sex makes her feel like a toy for men. Romance makes her feel like a doll.
x Smoke || She hates the smell of smoke, whether that be campfire smoke, cooking smoke... but she especially hates cigarette smokes.
x Sweets || Sometimes, things become too sweet for her taste palette, which is many things. Anya even has a troublesome time eating cake.

[ Weaknesses ]
โ˜  Loyalty || Anya knows very little people, and has no family, but to those she still does favor, her loyalty is unquestionable, and would do anything for them.
โ˜  Flexibility || It's strange, but Anya is hardly flexible. This is only in a physical way though, but no matter how hard she tries, her flexibility never seems to improve.
โ˜  Stubbornness || Anya has a habit of cursing often, and it's from her stubbornness. She's very strong willed, and sometimes, it's not a good thing.

[ Abilities/Skills ]
โœถ Transmutation
|| Anya is able to change the characteristics of any item she chooses that she is able to touch, including herself. It is limited, however, to how large the object is, how much she wishes to change, and how drastic the change is.
โœถ Running || Anya would go on jogs as a teen, and still does. She's speedy and durable.
โœถ Perceptive || She has a thing for studying people and cross referencing things with each other, which leads to her having incredibly good insight.

[ Personality ]
There are two sides to Anya; the job side, and the normal side. To save the best for last, let's discuss the job side of her. As a stripper, she needs to gain an audience. It's her way of making money, so to do that, she must act seductive. Of course this is not how she desires to act, but deems it necessary. She acts sweet, like an ideal sexy woman, but also sassy and teasing. It leads all the men onto something, but because she is not their woman, nor their toy, she will always be out of their grasp, thankfully.

On the other hand, outside of her job, Anya is bluntly honest, lazy, and very strong willed. She doesn't care who you are, or what you want to hear from her; if you ask her opinion, she won't hesitate one bit, and she's incredibly lazy at the same time. She's only motivated to do something when she wants to do it. Don't ask her to do the laundry, because she won't. And last of all, she's strong willed. She's proud of her being different and not human, and will stand up for her life. She believes in what she believes in, and no one will tell her otherwise. She is strong, and will not back
down, even when threatened.

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Memoirs
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[ History ]
Even though Anya was born from an artificial fetus, something was slightly different about her. They discovered this a few years after she was born nameless, and during her training at her young age. She questioned, she wondered, she's wished, and she hoped. She carried very similar characteristics to a regular human, and it made scientists wonder if she'd be their ray of good luck, or plain disappointment and the bringer of misfortune, thus leading to her name; Anya, meaning bringer of good luck, and Tavora, meaning misfortune or broken.

Only at age 12 was she stationed in Nova. Before that, the training was brutal, but bearable at the same time. She still had some 'humanity' left in her at that time. She enjoyed singing, and dreamed one day, without knowing or accepting the true terrors of the world, that she'd grow up to become a normal singer. Of course, this dream was shattered when she was brought to the harsh, burning hot land of Nova, where she fought for what felt like an eternity in hell. Gun shots were fired, people were screaming, blood soaked into the ground... It scarred Anya at such a young age, and the shaking in her body, the vibrating in her ears, and the red in her eyes never entirely disappeared.

Four whole, horrifying years in the war finally ended along with it, itself. What had happened to her in that war changed what innocence was left in this artificial human. Anya returned back home, broken, shattered. She had killed many people, but not as many as the other mutants. Apparently, she wasn't a successful weapon. The features that scientists considered when she was younger proved to be wrong and only led her to be ineffective rather than more effective. However, she was still left with a deep wound in her mentality.

It took her a whole year and a half to get over this. Anya didn't go through any therapy or anything of the sort. She stubbornly dealt with it on her own, and sometimes, her way of coping with the PTSD became violent. She'd tug at her hair while crying her eyes out, begging for the noises to stop. She'd jam her eyes shut and plug her ears so that she wouldn't see another person die in front of her or hear the yelling. It was rough at first, but slowly, as if her mind began to accept what had happened subconsciously, she began to experiences it all less, and eventually felt more human, and more normal. When she was 18, she was offered a job as a stripper for her appearance. Anya told him that she was not really a person, but the mans said that the people who would watch her wouldn't care what she was. It's not like she'd find a job anywhere else anyways, and so she excepted. Despite the job not being entirely to her liking, she earned money, and continued to live. She was called slutty by many women, and was harassed by many men, but she had already gone through hell, and believed that nothing would be worse than that. Life is calm and peaceful again, and while the circumstances are shit, she knows she'd take it any day than to go back to that war again. Unfortunately, Anya still suffers from PTSD. Sometimes, it's triggered by a noise she might her, a face she might see, or something she might touch that will remind her of the war in Nova and cause a flashback to occur, and other times it happens out of no where. Anya still tries to find a way to cope with it, because now she has a growing fear that it will become worse with time, and an irrational fear that she may one day be taken back to a different war for the rest of her life.

[ Others ]
โ… Anya lives in a dirty, old apartment in the Lower Ring. It's a disgusting and very dark place, but she makes do with what she has.
โ… Anya calls herself the Angel of Anarchy because it literately means the 'Angel of Freedom From The Government.' This is mostly because she was made by the government and their scientists, and because of this, her life was ruined as an artificial person seeing how she went into a blood-curling war as a child. She believes in people being independent and thinking for themselves and supports when people take things into their own hands against the wrongs of the government such as the continuous abuse of artificial beings.


So begins...

Anya Tavora's Story

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Character Portrait: Anya Tavora
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Bringer of goodness | Misfortune/Broken
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ImageAnya left the strip club of the lower ring with her ears pounding. That damned music was blasting as loud as possible, as if the club owners wanted to make their costumers deaf so they wouldn't hear what a rip off they were paying to see a couple of half naked girls dance to electronic music.

Some guy nearly slobbered all over her arm, which was the reason why she decided to quit work so early that day. It was only sunset, and she only started an hour before. Who knew why the club decided to open so early, but they did this time, and Anya had no interest in staying any longer for full-time pay with some wet-mouthed man's lips on her arm. The one rule of the strippers was absolutely no touching.

Anya scowled when she remembered the slimy feel. It was disgusting, and not even much saliva was on her arm at the time, thankfully, or she'd have broken character and slapped that man right in the face, or maybe even punch him. 'Fucking hate this job...' Anya thought to herself with frustration. She not only had to wear eye-candy clothes, but they were uncomfortable as well. She was freezing when she left that packed club and pulled her arms in tighter to keep herself warm in the wool jacket. 'I don't care what season it is... It's always freezing whenever I come out of that building.'

Whenever she explained how much she hated being a stripped, no on believed her and only laughed, or shoved her around as if she was fishing for compliments or something. An artificial was always hated, which was exactly why she couldn't get a job anywhere else. Anya was violent, and besides singing, a job she gave up so long ago, she didn't have any other special characteristics. She was good at running, but becoming an athlete would only prove how much of a fake human she was. Plus, her behavior was violent too, and PTSD constantly hit her hard from the war. Who would give a job to a talentless, psycho? Being a stripped seemed like the only choice she had left, and so she took it. It gave her a hella shitty apartment, but at least she had a roof over her head. The walls were thin, but it provided her with silence, and took away the horrible memories and sounds of the guns being fired from the war.

The Lower Ring became her home, and not even those rumored gangs could scare her away from it.

She tilted her head upwards and went silent, simply listening to the sounds of the Lower Ring. Nothing sounded like bombs, or the screams of dying people. Nothing at all. Simple things like this made her feel safer, because on some occasions, she would forget that the war had ended, and would begin to fear for her life again. No one liked that feeling.

'I'm just thinking too much.' Anya thought to herself when her forehead began to cause her to feel dizzy. 'Heading home right now and getting some rest about be the best choice... And pray to the demons and devils not to give me a nightmare when I decided to actually go to sleep for once.' She sighed deeply, stuffed her hands in her pockets, and began to walk.

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Character Portrait: Anya Tavora Character Portrait: Wilson  "005"
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Wilson walked along the streets of The Lower Ring, to him tonight was a great night indeed. It was calm for once, no screaming or anything to that effect, just the loud music from the various slums about. He ran a hand through his blonde hair and sighed resting his hand on his pistol that he kept strapped to his hip. He knew there was no danger currently however his past, the war, these things make him wary of everything and everyone around that he doesn't know. Artificial beings like him aren't exactly welcomed with open arms, in fact they are sort of hated and treated as underlings by those who aren't constructed in a laboratory.
War had left it's toll on Wilson, it left him hurting emotionally and it wounded him permanently mentally by giving him a pretty serious case of PTSD. His heavy-duty boots made a slight rhythmic sound along the cobbled streets, they were falling apart but it's too expensive for Lower Ring to repair.
As he walked he hummed a tune, a happy tune his best friend has taught him during the war, as he hummed it he smiled sadly to himself. Wilson looked at the buildings around him and wondered how they even held together.
With a long stretch he concluded that maybe he could go visit Anya at her job, it wasn't very far from where he was at now.

He arrived at her place of work but when he got there Anya's boss told him she had left early because of some slobbery moron that had pissed her off. Great, Wilson thought as he thanked the gentleman, turned on his heels and began walking to Anya's home. Anya's house was a rundown little ground-floor apartment, and so Wilson had never had any issues locating it. Wilson was worried however that if she was in a mood she may attack him and that would ruin his night for sure.

Hesitantly at first but with more confidence he knocked on her door.
"Anya? You home kid?" Wilson called out from the outside of her door and waited for her to open the door and to see her signature fuck you and your dumbass worries. . . Blah blah blah speech she always gave him. As he glanced around waiting for her to reply or something he smiled to himself, he was glad he got stationed here in the Lower Ring, sure he was pretty far from his friend Enid but hey, she was only a transport away. Then that thought reminded him he had promised to see Enid's recital tonight. . . Godammit. . . I'm a jackass. . ." Wilson shook his head and watched the flickering light that hung over Anya's door.

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Character Portrait: Anya Tavora Character Portrait: Wilson  "005"
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Bringer of goodness | Misfortune/Broken
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Image'It's really fucking cold...' Anya shivered. Not even the furry, wool jacket could keep all of her warm. She knew her apartment wouldn't prove to be any better either; the walls were thin, mold was growing near the sink and bathroom, and the blankets she had were thinned than the stripper outfit she wore that night.

She approached her apartment and then found someone to be standing outside. Her eyes narrow from afar, just for safety purposes, and tried to identify this person from behind. It didn't work too well, and so she decided to take extra precaution. But... what was extra precaution? Tackle this guy from behind? Even as an artificial, it's not like she was superhuman or anything. Maybe try threatening? Try and find a different angle to see what this guy looked like? However, Anya didn't do any of these things. It was as if he mind went blank when she suddenly demanded, "Hey, turn around and show me your face, criminal-"

"Anya? You home kid?" Anya paused midway in her sentence and thought for a moment. Where did she recognize that voice from...? Oh right. Him.

Of course, this pissed her off. Quite a bit. "The hell are you doing, dumb-ass! Of all people, you should know that I always finish my job late- It's just plain stupid to try and find me at home this early in the night. Why are you in front of my apartment anyways, Mr. Patrol Guard?" She asked Wilson, also with her regular irritated suspicion. "You're lucky I'm here, else you'd probably wait here forever and be kidnapped by some freak gang or something. Didn't you have somewhere to be before this?" She waved that off, as if it didn't matter and explained why she was back at home earlier than before. "Some son of a bitch decided to try and suck on my arm or something and it was covered in his spit. I dried it off but I really just need a shower right now. I feel disgusting." She muttered.

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Character Portrait: Anya Tavora Character Portrait: Wilson  "005"
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Wilson heard a voice call out from behind him which made him to turn quickly on his heels pistol at the ready. Then the speech kicked in and he sighed holstering his pistol while Anya began her rant. Wilson walked over to her a little closer and then he chuckled at her irritation, she was getting more and more frustrated as she spoke and Wilson couldn't help but laugh.
"No gangs would be able to get me kiddo, honest I am tougher than I look. Were you worried for me?" Wilson leaned in and grinned. He saw her face get red, either from anger or embarrassment, Wilson didn't care at this point but he enjoyed getting reactions from her. "Also while I'm here, looking for you cause I worry for my little sister, how are you doing? I know I haven't visited in awhile, I have been busy. Patrols, hey I even busted a drug operation down by the sewers, I felt like a real cop. . ." Wilson stretched up and smiled happily, then as he came down he pulled Anya in for a warm hug.
"I know you hate affection and warmth and stuff but. . . You looked like you might cry, I care for you kiddo." Wilson mumbled into her ear before pulling away from the hug and handing her his heavy-duty coat."Take it, it's fucking freezing tonight, and"Wilson looked her up and down and frowned. "That outfit. . . Is it really necessary?"He looked at her puzzled with a little smile that he used to hide the fact that he didn't approve of her choices. Wilson knew though if he started that fight today, after all she's been through it may end up in an altercation.

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Character Portrait: Anya Tavora Character Portrait: Wilson  "005"
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Bringer of goodness | Misfortune/Broken
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Image"No gangs would be able to get me kiddo, honest I am tougher than I look. Were you worried for me?" Wilson laughed to Anya plain embarrassment.

Her face turned red, from embarrassment, frustration, and a lot of anger. She had an urge to punch his side - and roughly, not in any light manner - but stored this for now, unlike she usually would, and spoke, "You're a patrol man, and I saw you pulling out your gun when you heard me. Of course I'm not worried for you, you self-centered man. If anything I'm worried about this gangs accidentally grabbing a man when they meant to kidnap a woman." She sneered, although her comeback was not one of the best she's ever made...

"Also while I'm here, looking for you cause I worry for my little sister, how are you doing? I know I haven't visited in awhile, I have been busy. Patrols, hey I even busted a drug operation down by the sewers, I felt like a real cop. . ."

"Hmph. Well, your little sister can take care of herself, thank you very much. In fact, she might even be capable of kicking your ass if you'd try her in combat." Anya then quit it with the jokes when she began to describe her daily routine and life so far. "Nothing out of the ordinary. I'm doing fine, I guess. The apartment is shit, as you probably already know, and so is my job, but I don't really care at this point. PTSD is still a pain in the ass, but I'll learn to deal with it. All in all... Life, is shit, but I ain't gonna do anything about it." Her improper speech stuck out like a sore thumb, but she wasn't incredibly intelligent, explaining why she had such a vulgar and indecent job... "And good job, Mr. Patrol Guard. You should try to stop working so hard and lend me a hand once and a while or something, or at least take a break. I feel like your boss, or whoever the hell works this city-town-state-county-thing overworks you."

Just then, Wilson embraced her just before Anya's instincts told her to move away. It was natural behavior from her, because of the war, but now that it's ended, it's been slowly fading away. A jacket - Wilson's, to be specific - was then wrapped around her, providing her with more warmth since her jacket was thinner than ice."I know you hate affection and warmth and stuff but. . . You looked like you might cry, I care for you kiddo. Take it, it's fucking freezing tonight."

Instead of making her usual remarks about keeping hands off of her and not showering her with sibling love, Anya sighed and muttered, "Yeah... Yeah I got that. Sorry, and it's just the weather. When I cry I punch something or someone, and you don't see me about to punch you. At least, not yet."

She began to go through the pocket of her ripped up and dirtied jacket for the house keys, which she always kept in a separate one on the inner side of the jacket, that way it was only available to her. While she began to unlock her apartment, she listened to Wilson when he said, "-And, that outfit. . . Is it really necessary?"

Just as Anya unlocked the door, she turned around with a suspicious look on her face when she told him, "I. Am. A. Stripper. You know I have to wear this sort of shitty, slut-looking outfit. Those fat rich men who come to watch me dance on a fucking pole don't want to see a girl wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants. I won't get paid for that."

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Character Portrait: Christopher King Character Portrait: Anya Tavora Character Portrait: Wilson  "005" Character Portrait: Enid Tsianina
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Wilson smiled sheepishly his tough exterior, which wasn't that tough anyway, faded with Anya's words."I feel like your boss, or whoever the hell works this city-town-state-county-thing overworks you."
Wilson replied to her as she fumbled for keys in her little raggedy jacket, under his pretty badly torn up one.
"Well, I get paid decently, although they don't very much like to pay me at the end of the month. Hmm, I think I will buy you a warmer jacket. From the middle ring. Nicer yeah, and I mean it isn't much but I can't stop by as often as I'd like. Not with my new patrols. They've got me Lower Ring and parts of the Middle now. Guess they appreciate I have literally no life so I would work retarded hours. . . " Wilson ran his fingers through his blonde hair as he watched her when she told him about her job and how things were going. He was taken off-guard when she let him hug her, that had never happened before. It must be tough working as she does, being drooled over and on by fat rich guys. Wilson's brow crinkled in worry.

"Look, Anya, I know you are tough and all. . . But I also know how it is to suffer. You know that. Here," Wilson placed a little silver circular object in her hand. It was engraved with a falcon and on one side there was three little holes, almost like an instrument of some sort."Blow on this whenever you need me and I will come help you, alright? God, unfortunately. . . I still have to finish my rounds, I love ya sis. I just worry, and I'm sure you think I'm lame and annoying but," Wilson brushed her hair out of her face and smiled a stupid smile. "But, hey us freaks have to stay together right?"

With that Wilson gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, he felt sorta weird for doing that but he felt like she needed something. . . Wilson said his goodbyes and began walking towards the transport that would take him up to the Middle Ring. He needed to go and apologize to Enid for missing her recital. He had promised her he would be there.

Once the transport had docked he took off running towards Enid's place. His hand instinctively hovered over the rectangular box in his pocket. A gift he had gotten for Enid to give her at the recital. . . That he had missed.

He saw her at the door of her store but she was talking to some guy . . . Wilson thought she said "Christopher" was this man's name. Was that her boyfriend? Was it too late? Wilson stood up straighter, she was gorgeous tonight, absolutely gorgeous. He stepped into the shallow lighting of the street lamp across from her, he smiled shyly and waved. Hoping she would notice him, he didn't want to call out. . . Yet he did want to. He wanted to kiss her, but he wouldn't. They were friends first, practically the best of friends. . .

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Christopher King Character Portrait: Anya Tavora Character Portrait: Neptune Taylor Character Portrait: Summanus Anderson Character Portrait: Tristan Bellum Character Portrait: Wilson  "005" Character Portrait: Sin Amaterasu Character Portrait: Enid Tsianina Character Portrait: Pandora Inese Character Portrait: Darren
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By order of the Prime Minister and Chief Master Sargent of Rune, you are hereby required to report to Research Building A113A, located in the Medical District of the Upper Ring of Rune by the time of 1:00 PM on the day of 12/06/4897. This is mandatory and any Variant that fails to comply will receive capitol punishment.

Thank you,


Prime Minister Wesley

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Christopher King Character Portrait: Anya Tavora Character Portrait: Neptune Taylor Character Portrait: Tristan Bellum Character Portrait: Summanus A. Character Portrait: Wilson  "005" Character Portrait: Sin Amaterasu Character Portrait: Enid Tsianina Character Portrait: Pandora Inese Character Portrait: Darren
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Night had fallen, the soft tickles of pink and sneezes of orange in the sky had long since faded to the navy of twilight and silence had begun to wrap itself around the Lower Ring. There was a false sense of security in the air as gangs retreated back to their homes for the day, done collecting their payments and raiding other gang bases. Blood was being blasted off of the streets by sidewalk washers and mothers were calling their children in from minuscule front yards, telling them that it was time to come inside for the evening.

At the police station, Sin was angrily buttoning up her shirt. She had been given the duty of rounding up all Variants tonight and begin to send them to the Upper Ring for whatever it was the government needed them for. Suspicion was high, there were whispers flitting across the halls as she made her way downstairs with the two other Variants that would be assisting her. In Sin's hand was a small device, a reader that could find the bar code of a Variant within three hundred feet. They were not going to take anyone in by force, no their job was to simply inform and point them in the right direction; should there be resistance however, they were allowed to subdue, but nothing more.





It was a long night, Sin had gone into bars, knocked on apartment doors, and had crept through alleyways in order to inform Variants of the mandatory report. Only one had resisted, but Sin had stopped him before he could do any damage and brought him in to the police station so they could perform the transfer.

Currently Sin stood in front of Medical Research building A113A, her hands shaking a bit as she wiped them on the pant leg of her uniform. She strode into the lobby, the last one to arrive and the doors locking behind her. The deadline had passed and Variants were standing in the entrance of the building. A few Sin recognized, a blond that owned a bar she had frequented and his purple haired girlfriend who could often be found there, a stripper Sin had given a ride home to once on a cold winter night. There were others, the gardener she had seen beat up humans who stomped on his plants, Wilson and Christopher from the police department, the private detective Pandora she had helped solve a case with once, as well as the talented mute seamstress, and... Wait, was that a human? The person was handcuffed and two armed guards stood on either side.

Confusion rode her expression for a moment, but it wasn't any of Sin's business if the government wanted a human here. Unless they were actually a reporter that had gotten into the building for a quick scoop? She shook her head and turned to face the man standing on a mini stage at the front of the lobby. He cleared his throat, the sound coming over the loudspeaker. "I'm sorry to have to gather you all on such short notice, but-" he paused, hesitating. "War has broken out once more between the Americans and Koreans. I'm afraid you've all been recommissioned for a new assignment in Hoshii. You're all going back to the battle front."

Sin's heart sank, her knees began to shake and she felt weak. Someone in the room threw up, another few burst into tears. The Variant leaned against the wall, her head spinning as she digested this news.

They were going back to the war.