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Something's Happening
Mind Is Dripping, Agony Inside Of Me.
My Pulse Is Racing
Mental Torture, Self Destroyer.
Can't Ignore the Paranoia.

Denying.
The rising

TRIGGER WARNING


“I don’t think you heard me!” she threw the now tattered belt, grabbing him by the neck, “You!” she punched him, “Owe!” again, nose cracking on her knuckles, “me!” and once more she slammed her fist into his face, feeling another break in his nose, “MONEY!” she raged, her fist pausing as he coughed on his own blood. “Now where is it?” she sneered, holding her hand high in cause another fistful was needed.

She felt a hand on her gut and her feel leaving the ground as he shoved her off and onto the ground. She looked up with surprise as he jumped her, holding up a fist and punching her square in the mouth. She felt the familiar sting on pain as her mouth filled with the remnants of her now busted lip. Levi grinned, teeth painted with smears, tucking her legs in and kicking him off and to the side. He may have the upper hand it his arms, but a woman was built to carry her strength in her legs.

Levi grabbed a fist full of hair, placing a sharp knee on his back. “Now…” she yanked his head up, spitting in his face, “Where’s my money?” she asked, slamming his head into the ground. “Whats that?” she slammed it again, hearing his cheek bone give a tasty snap, “You don’t have it?” again she slammed his face down, hearing the floor boards creak in protest. “Well I suggest you get it…” her voice was dark as she pulled out a knife from her back pocket. Levi pulled his hair, revealing his battered face, placing the edge at his skin, its blade glinting, “You have until next week to pay me the full amount.” She said, letting his head fall, putting her blade back into her pocket.

Levi reached into her pocket and pulled out a 20 dollar bill and threw it at him, “Cab fare, my treat. Make yourself pretty for when I come back~” and with that, she left the room, “Come along Nes, I’m hungry for some chili cheese fries~” she said, spitting out blood once more before leaving through the front door.

The crying.
I'm dying.

They lied to me
They shot at me
They hate on me
They're dead to me
And now they're all my enemy

The beeping of an alarm clock roused Raidan from his slumber. Well, time to get to work. The same thought that rang in his head every morning for the past 18 years. He looked around his apartment as he awoke, wary of any dangers. His job as a PI in this city often got him into trouble, and that trouble liked to pay him a visit. His place was clean, orderly, and nothing special. The overall coloration in the decor was a mix of grays and browns, nothing fancy. He had all the amenities he needed, A kitchen with food, a television and laptop for information gathering, a couch to sit on with a table in front of it to eat off of, a wardrobe that had multiples of the clothing he wore (He only had one style), a Washer and Dryer, and a bathroom with a shower for daily cleaning. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so he took a quick shower, going over his schedule in his mind as he washed up.

No Job at the moment, so a potential client may very well call or visit. Gather Intel on anything important that's occurred while I slept, and double check the place for anything unfriendly.

It was routine, which Raidan preferred. After his shower and drying himself off, he put on a black shirt, black jeans, and his shoes. He grabbed his black Duster off the coat rack, one of four he had (just in case), and checked the pockets. His phone was there, a smartphone he'd obtained recently after being able to upgrade on his phone plan. Seemed everyone had one, and Raidan needed to keep up. In another pocket was his Dagger, a custom one he'd had made years ago after a brief stint with the FBI. It was made of an alloy that was durable, and wouldn't break easily. The blade's design was simple, only slightly curved to allow for fast penetration and easy removal. He trusted this dagger more than any person he'd met,it was an extension of himself. Officers kept telling him that in this city you needed a gun, but Raidan disliked the weapons. He'd seen what having that power did to a man.

Dressed and satisfied that everything was in its place, he headed to the door that led to his office and public area. He didn't have a door that led straight from the Apartment to the hallways, anyone who wanted at him had to go through the office first. An added layer of security that kept his mind at ease. He checked over the files on his desk of a recently closed case. It had been simple, because the request was common. In a city this large, cheating spouses were a dime a dozen, and there were often requests to keep tabs on them. The woman had paid well, enough that he could buy food and keep up with the utilities bill for months, not including what he kept in savings. He'd paid off the Apartment and the Office a few years ago, owning them had been his highest priority. He could do whatever he wanted with the space, which mainly meant security in his mind. He looked over the camera footage on his office desktop, making certain there weren't any intruders. There usually weren't, but it'd been three months since the Walters case, and that one had involved arms dealers. Not a friendly bunch. Satisfied with the check ups, he browsed the internet for news stories, checking up on the latest events around the city. Things seemed as calm as usual for the big apple, nothing really jumped out at him.

He smiled a little, content that no surprises awaited him. He would often glance at the other door, the one clients came through. His business wasn't exactly booming, Private Investigators like him could be found throughout the city. But he made enough to keep up, and that was all that mattered. Besides, with his record he sometimes got cases that were beyond what other PIs would agree to. Those came in two flavors, Interesting and Troublesome. Rarely both. The Walters Case had been of the Troublesome variety, which was why he'd kept up his guard. He preferred the Interesting ones, cases that involved something unusual or different from the norm. One could find a lot of strange things in the city if they looked hard enough. It was a fact of life that people desired different things, and some of those things got people into trouble. It was the things themselves that sometimes intrigued Raidan. He liked routine, but the more he learned about the city and about people, the more capable he felt. And in this town, you really did learn something new every day.

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"That would be because I'm not in the habit of helping stalkers." Her voice flat, there was a brief flash of...annoyance? Amusement? Abhorrence? Sometimes Pepper wasn't even sure what emotion had made it's home on her face. It made her off-putting in social settings, but an excellent poker player.

She kept a steady gaze on Kaylin, she was a weird kid. Kaylin seemed to jump from emotion to emotion like a frog on a hot sidewalk. In the few hours since Pepper had met her, the girl had been bold-as-brass, a shy flower, tense and relaxed. It was exhausting just watching her. The notebook seemed to be the primary form of communication, but Pepper knew that she could speak too, although Kaylin probably wasn't going to win any singing contests anytime soon. The young girl seemed dressed well enough, there weren't any patches in her clothes and she was reasonably clean, if she was on the streets it hadn't been for long. And there was the love of books, which spoke of education, even though shouldn't she be in school right now? Kaylin's taste in books pointed to a bit of escapism, most people who read fantasy wanted to shut out life from time to time. Which made sense with the girl's behavior. Well adjusted people don't follow strangers around.

"I can ring you up at the register when you're ready." Pepper didn't realize her eyes had narrowed at Kaylin as she was considering the girl. People said that Pepper looked predatory when her features arranged themselves in such a manner. The truth was she usually was thinking, right now the debate was to either leave Kaylin alone with her precious books or stay in case the girl did anything else weird. Pepper was starting to suspect Kaylin's problems were much deeper than just a touch of muteness.

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Kaylin tilts her head slightly at the weird look she's currently receiving from the woman. She was usually fairly decent at telling what people were thinking from their expressions, but this woman was an intriguing mystery to her. Her head tilts the other way as she thinks about the woman's words, jotting down a question for her, 'What's stalking?' While her writing skills were fairly decent for a person with amnesia and recently waking from a coma, she was still struggling a bit with what some words meant despite remembering how to spell them.

Maurice had been quietly watching the streets pass by outside the cab window, occasionally glancing at the name tag he was returning. He was actually about to ask about the chameleon when she struck up conversation about his hair. It was a certainly conversation piece, and that was the whole point.

"I'm a boxer, it helps my face stand out to the crowd. You remember a guy with blue hair more than the other fighter!" He smirked, his ego peeking through, "I'll have to wash it all out when I go to Rio, though." He looked at the dashboard again. "So can I ask what's up with the reptile?"