Minty
Legacy Name: Imminent

I pulled my car into the garage and the heavy bay door closed behind me. Without a word, I went around to the passenger side door, opened it, and dragged the still unmoving contents to a worn looking couch that sat up against the wall of the garage. The thief groaned slightly in her unconscious state but was otherwise quiet- I had to admit, I was thankful she was still alive. I'd had my doubts.

I looked up to see Tony hovering nearby, his face a mix of worry and anger.

"Woah, T... who the hell is this? Look, I don't even wanna know. Just get her outta here. She ain't staying' here."

I ignored Tony's protest and handed him the keys and the pink slip to the newest addition to his garage. He stared at me for a moment- I could tell he wanted to say something, but instead opted to walk back to his office where he flipped through some documents stuffed into an old ratty folder. I followed him and sat down in one of the rickety folding chairs in front of his desk. While he searched through his lists of potential buyers, we discussed percentages and prices- I wanted to get my money and get out, but I also wasn't about to get ripped off.

Finally, we came to an agreement I could live with. Tony's brow furled almost as if he was in pain as he handed me the cash for my share- a sign that I'd gotten at least a fair deal. I stood up, about to put the money in my pocket but thought better of it- I had to put this money somewhere safe. At that moment, an angry yell startled both Tony and I- one of the mechanics was in the process of yelling a string of obesnities at his coworker for snapping something within the inner workings of the blue car's engine. Tony jogged over, yelling obsenities of his own while I glared at the three of them for a moment. How petty. I rolled my eyes and turned back to my car- there was no need to stay here any longer and I had to figure out what I was going to do with my new found friend. I walked past a few other glittering cars in the garage to the beat up couch... only to find it empty. My head snapped up and I scanned the room- no movement other than the three men near the blue car who were now all yelling at each other. I growled under my breath and walked back to my car... only to find the driver's side door slightly ajar and my wallet, which I'd wedged between the two front seats, missing. That little rat had done it again. Apparently the first lesson about not stealing from me hadn't stuck- but if round two was what she wanted, round two was what she was gonna get. And I had a pretty good idea of where to start looking for her.

Thankfully, the late hour kept most people inside and away from the dangerous city streets. The few souls that lingered probably had secrets of their own that they didn't want coming to light and melted into the shadows at my approach. I wandered aimlessly for a few blocks, the buildings all starting to look the same- each with tired facades that people had long ago lost interesting in being proud of. Eventually, I found a low stoop, its darkened steps inviting and hidden thanks to the overgrown bushes that threatened to overtake the hand railings as a trellis. I watched the occasional passer-by, most of them not even noticing me lurking in the darkness. Those that did notice startled slightly, but didn't bother crossing the street as some of the more sensitive people in more upscale neighborhoods might have. They'd have their guard up, but they wouldn't start anything. As the minutes passed by, I began to lose faith in my choice to come here. The eternal night seemed to get darker as the wee morning hours crept up. The dog had stopped barking. There was no music playing in the apartments any more.

It was at that moment I saw her- purple hoodie pulled over her head, her walk suggesting that she was both on edge and exhausted at the same time. She walked on the sidewalk across the street from my perch, her head swiveling to look behind her now and then but her eyes never catching mine. I stood quietly after she'd passed by, and slunk along out of sight, avoiding the street lights. It wasn't long before she glanced around one last time and darted into an alleyway comprised of two looming apartment buildings. I jogged across the street towards where she had disappeared- this could turn out to be the chance I'd been waiting for.

My eyes adjusted to the dimness as I crouched behind a nearby dumpster towards the start of the alleyway. As I got my bearings, I saw that the alleyway was nothing more than a dead end with dimmed or darkened windows running up the three walls that enclosed the dirty concrete walkway. An assemblage of dumpsters, dented silver trashcans and other debris containers were hastily pushed against the aged surface of the buildings. The thief quickly maneuvered to a corner of the alleyway where a large ventilation shaft crawled down from the height of the structure. I made my way closer, until I could see what she was doing- removing the bolts holding a tired ventilation shaft cover until it hung open, creating a dark passageway. She glanced around briefly before beginning her deft accent, her body quickly disappearing into the vent. It was now or never.

I sprinted towards the vent and threw myself partially inside, arms extended, grasping at the pitch black void. The palm of my hand connected with a soft leather boot and I wrapped my fingers around the ankle within. I let my body drop out of the vent, the mixture of momentum and surprirse causing my target to lose her grip on the metallic interior. She landed on her side with a startled grunt, her eyes widening when she recognized me. As she tried to get her feet under her, she let out a startled screech that reverberated off the surrounding walls. Without a second thought other than a need to silence her cry, I drew my foot back and kicked her in the stomach. Hard. The thief's scream instantly turned into a wheezy gasp as the air was forced from her lungs, her eyes squinching shut as she curled up in a weak attempt to protect her core. "Look at me" I demanded. She didn't respond. I racked the shotgun, the satisfying sound of the round being chambered almost drowned out by my own roar. "I SAID LOOK AT ME!" Her eyes slowly opened to see the shotgun's muzzle aimed directly at her. I could see her tense up, her focus slowly moving from the shotgun to my face. "You just can't seem to grasp that there are going to be consequences when you steal from me" I growled in a low tone. She didn't make a sound, so I continued- "I was nice enough to keep you from the mercy of the streets after I caught you the first time. And how did you repay me? You stole from me... AGAIN!" I thundered. I stared into her terrified eyes, a tinge of angry red dancing at the edges of my vision. With incredible slowness, her trembling hand reached into her hood and produced the wallet she'd stolen from me. She set it on the ground as though it might bite her at any moment, her eyes glued to shotgun's muzzle. I looked to the wallet and back to the thief. She had tried to scoot a few inches backwards in a meek attempt to put some distance between us. "No." I sneered at her, "We're not done here yet."

A chill suddenly raced down my spine as I was about to advance, the uneasy feeling of being watched following closely behind. A split second later I felt cold metal pressing against the back of my head, followed by a raw, masculine voice. "I recommend that you aim that shotgun somewhere else." he stated cooly. I froze, a sudden surge of panic racing through me- I was no longer just on the stock end of a gun, but now the muzzle end as well. Someone had gotten a jump on me. My eyes automatically darted to the thief still on the ground. Her eyes were no longer focused on me, but over my shoulder towards my assailant. And she looked almost... relieved. I could feel my heart sinking in my chest. I hadn't expected two of them.

I let the muzzle of the shotgun cautiously fall towards ground near my feet. In a flash, the thief was up and walking away out of my field of sight, her soft footfalls growing more distance with each step. The unknown man behind me hadn't moved or spoken another word. I tried to push aside the growing terror that I might not walk out of this dingy alleyway alive. I was going to be another statistic, a warning to city kids to stay in school, and... My spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a simple demand from somewhere behind me. "Don't follow us." With that, the muzzle of the gun disappeared and I was left standing, staring at the corroded wall of the apartment building. I could hear his slow, purposeful steps fading. I finally took a risk, and slowly turned to look over my shoulder. There in the opening to the alleyway stood a young man, a steely gaze in his blue eyes and a rifle in his unwavering hands. The thief was standing next to him. As I turned to look at her, she pulled her hood up over her head and turned away. "So long, Hawthorne...." she mumbled, just as she disappeared behind the corner of the apartment building. His watchful blue eyes that had turned briefly to the thief had darted back to mine. That cool demeanor had diminished- a strange mix of anger and sadness in its place. And then without a word, he turned and walked briskly in the thief's direction until he, too, was out of sight.

I released the shaky breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding in. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before. I was usually far away by the time there was any real danger. But not this time- this was too close, too real. I looked down at my feet to my wallet, still sitting where the thief had left. I should have never done this. I shouldn't have risked everything for that which could easily be replaced. Risks like that should only be used for big gains, the things that can even out a skewed playing field or put me far ahead of competition. Without any further hesitation, I bent down to pick up my property. Wallet safely tucked under my arm and shotgun brandished to ward off any potential trouble this run-down city had to offer, I headed out of the alleyway. I'd forgotten why I'd started all this. Forgotten my goals. No more small stuff. A light breeze picked up, and the opened ventilation shaft cover swayed and squeaked its approval.

I flopped down on the soft overstuffed couch and sank down into the worn cushions. It was one of the many home furnishings scattered throughout the condo that my neighbors wouldn't be caught dead with- but where they saw 'threadbare', I saw 'comfortable'. I opened my laptop and skimmed the day's news. Not surprisingly, there were multiple articles about Apollo Enterprises and the steady price increases the city was seeing on sunlight. It had been the hot topic for a few months now- the price of sunlight had increased nearly five-fold in a three month period. Many small farms outside the city limits had gone under because of it- the light from electricity was a joke, and the even the artificial sunlight with its overly blue hues left crops with far less to harvest. And so down the supply chain it went- fewer farms meant less food being shipped in, and less food meant higher prices at the grocery store. There was still plenty of delicious food to be had- if you could afford it. Restaurants were raising their prices on a regular basis. Even the stale snacks contained within vending machines were more costly.

I closed the computer and sighed as my mind wandered back to the past. I'd been thinking about my forced move to the city all those years ago... and a lot more in recent months. About the dark circles under my dad's eyes, and the worn look in mom's face. About Kyle's determination every time he left the house without a word, truck tires skidding out of our driveway to some unknown place. They'd profited off of what they'd done... but who'd profited off them? The thoughts in my head swirled back to the farm I'd visited with Kyle, the first and last trip of its kind for me. That angry man as he'd burst out of the farmhouse, and the sad look in the dark blue eyes of that boy as he emerged from the greenery of the fields surrounding his home. Those light boxes, filled with freshly captured sunlight that could chase the dark sky away and illuminate the plants that would someday help feed a city. That blinding light... what must it have been like in the days before the darkness came?

My eyes closed, and I slept.

The days that followed rushed by in a blur as though that terrifying encounter in the alleyway had been a wakeup call to the entire city instead of just to me. News stations had been looping eye catching stories about the effects of skyrocketing sunlight prices and the rumors that the light was getting more difficult to capture. I shook my head and stared at the floor- isn't this why we'd moved to this city in the first place? To help find the light? If the news was right, the city was going to be plunged into darkness while the rich got richer.

Suddenly, the words "Breaking News" in large bold letters slithered along the top and bottom of the screen. The anchorman on TV was looking off camera as he received some crisp paperwork from the news editor and briefly glanced at it before addressing the cameras. "We've just been handed a press release from Apollo Enterprises in regards to the 'unsubstantiated rumors' regarding reduced sunlight capture and resulting price increases." As the anchorman continued speaking, a document with the Apollo Enterprises logo adorning the top appeard on the screen. I scanned the document as the anchorman read it out loud- an attempt at quelling the concerns of the general public, a request for the city to keep calm... It was the last few sentances that caught my attention- "We're doing everything we can at the moment but rest assured- our long term plan ensure humanity’s survival will be begin in the next few days."

I read the sentance twice more before the screen flashed back to the newsroom- but I didn't see the newscasters or hear their voices anymore. I was too lost in my own thoughts. 'Long term plan'... it was a phrase my father had often muttered under his breath as he poured over paperwork in the late hours of the night. It hadn't meant much to me then... but now? Now I had a strange feeling that I couldn't shake. Questions about what my family had actually been involved it and how much of it had actually been their choosing nagged at me more loudly than they ever had before. I turned off the TV, sitting in the silence of the room for a brief moment. I had to find out what had happened back then... and what was going to happen now.

*********

Within the hour, I found myself driving down a busy highway, towards the waterfront. The eternally darkened sky did its best to dim the headlights surrounding me, but the neon of the city bathed everything in a cool electric glow that kept the darkness at bay. I glanced towards the passenger's seat, eyeing the heavy pair of bolt cutters that I'd borrowed from Tony. The neon began to fade as I got further from the city's heart, giving way to warehouses and other industrial buildings that made up the waterfront district. At end of the road, huge bright lights cast a glow against the night sky- a signal that I was close to my destination. I pulled into a non-discript parking lot, and parked well out of view. I stepped out of the car, pulled my favorite purple hoodie over my head and walked in the direction of the lights- bolt cutters in hand.

It's amazing what memories the mind is capable of pulling back from years gone by. The jingle from a nine year old gum commercial. The finale of that one TV series that no one else remembers. And in my case? My memory was the Apollo Enterprises loading docks- back from when my family first moved to the city. It wasn't a main enterance to the AE grounds, so most people weren't familiar with it unless they had a delivery to make (so we were told), but it was one of the quickest ways to the offices which had been our destination. The tide had been low that day, so low that you could see a few feet of sandy shore exposed beyond the low slung concrete barriers- before gental lap of waves consumed what remaind of the land and dragged it down into the depths of the bay. Today was no different- the receding waters offered a small shoreline that hadn't aged well. I stepped around bits of plastic and other debris that littered the shoreline as I made my way towards the harsh lights, concealing myself in the shadow cast by the concrete wall. A rusty chainlink fence that clambered downfrom the top of the concrete down into the swirling waters marked the boundry of the property. A few snaps of the bolt cutters provided an easier than expected access. I pulled the fencing back and propped the bolt cutters up against the concrete wall- it would be easier to leave them here and get them on the way out than to try and carry them with me on my mission. My mission- it wasn't even a mission. It wasn't even a plan. It was a desperate grasping at straws, an unvetted call to action because of words on a TV screen. But there was no way I'd turn back now- there had to be something here. Something in the offices, some documentation, some hint as to what these "long term plans" consisted of. I carefully looked up over the top of the low slung wall to get an idea of who I'd risk encountering on my way to the offices. Luck was on my side it seemed, as most of the activity seemed to be focused on a series of huge metal cargo containers much further down the docks. A pair of huge picker trucks were slowly hoisting and adjusting the placement of the massive containers, stacking them for what I could only guess was pick up at a later time by another crane. I visualized climbing up over the wall and walking with purpose towards the office buldings in the distance- just another nameless worker going about their business, and...

The loud screech of the big chain link gate blocking the main drive snapped me back to attention. I ducked for a moment, not wanting to be seen by anyone who may have turned to seek the source of the noise as I had. After a minute, I heard the low rumble of a truck pass by, followed by the hiss of its airbreaks as it came to a stop. The sound of vehicle doors opening came next, followed by two voices, discussing the logistics of their delivery. The urge to sneak a peek over the top of the wall was overwhelming, but it would be too risky. I could see the top of the truck from my shadowy vantage point- it looked like a black box truck upon first glance, but... there was something different about it. Even from my limited view, it looked much more sturdy than a little rental truck. It looked like something that could take a hit. Maybe even two. My plan to find some documentation in an office was replaced by my need to know what was contained within that truck- a vehicle so subtle that it wouldn't draw attention to itself the way an armored truck might, but that could still protect its contents. As I considered my limited options, I could hear more voices joining the original two. Overlapping conversations made it impossible to decipher what was being said, but more people were coming and I was getting more nervous. It would only take one of them to stray away from the group, to wander over to the wall, look down at the shoreline, and spot me lurking in the darkness. My eyes followed the shadowy wall and the edge of the murky water that was already creeping back up to reclaim its sand until my gaze settled on where I'd seen the cargo containers moving earlier. The picker trucks were still now, their crane arms still partially extended as though they were taking a short but well deserved break. I slunk along the wall towards them, the low rumbling of their idling engines droning out a greeting as I approched.

A quick glance over the concrete barrier confirmed that the the area was empty- making it the perfect place to cause a little distraction. The smirk that formed on my lips quickly turned into a grin as I approched one of the 33-ton picker trucks. I couldn't believe my luck- the silver plaque prominently baring the name 'Hawthorne' on the vehicle's side that identified it as part of our old construction brand glittered at me welcomely. I shook my head, laughing to myself... the real irony here wasn't the fact that it was a Hawthorne crane, but that it had been one of my favorite cranes to watch when I was a kid- to the point my dad had taken me up into one and taught me the basics of its controls under his careful eye. It was one of my most treasured memories, and now it was coming back to serve my purposes years later. I clambered up into the cab of the vehicle, the engine masking any sounds I made. The heavy steel cables were still attached to a dark red cargo container, ready to pick up the load and transfer it to nearby stack of other containers nearby. But this container wasn't going to be stacked with the others. A large white pickup parked nearby had caught my eye, the Apollo Enterprises logo running across its door. Possibly the work truck of the dock supervisor. It wasn't going to matter who it belonged to in a few mintues- I'd already pulled one of the levers in the vehicle's cab and watched as the metal container quietly lifted up off the ground. A few more adjustments and the crane's arm was nearly at its maxium height, the cargo container high above the white pickup. I watched the container sway just slightly in the light breeze that was blowing in from the water. That's when I pulled the lever to release the crane's draglines, sending the container plummeting 40 feet down to its target below.

The container seemed to drop in slow motion, the slack draglines floating around the massive object as it it fell back to earth. It was the ground shaking crunch that jarred me back to reality as the cab shook from the impact. The white truck was a twisted, mangled mess under the bent and splitting cargo container. The force of the hit had sent peices flying from both objects in all directions, a debris field expanding out from the impact site. Almost immediatly I heard voices yelling- far enough away that I couldn't make out the words, but close enough that I could tell they were reacting to what had just happened. I glanced out the cab's window and to my dismay, saw workers running towards the picker trucks along the concrete wall. There was no way I could use that as an escape route now without being spotted. I pulled the cab door open, hearing more startled voices coming towards me. I darted past the chaos I'd caused and flattened myself against the shadows of the other stacked containers. I held my breath as the first of the workers approched the site- they'd appeared much more quickly than I'd thought. I slunk around to the far side of the shipping container stacks, my heart racing as I watched more employees appear in the doorways of other buildings as if summoned by the sound. I quietly cursed at myself- this is what I deserved for rushing into a dangerous situation without a plan. I tried to push the growing fear in my stomach away. The longer I stayed here, the more likely I was to get caught. And if I was caught... I couldn't finished the thought. My imagination turned my fear into a sheer panic, willing my legs to move and sending me running through the scattered cargo containers in an attempt to get back to the hole I'd cut in the rusty fencing. If it hadn't been swallowed up by the incoming tide already. I pulled my hood tightly over my head, listening to the startled shouts of a few employees who had already spotted me and my feeble attempt at a daring escape. I could hear heavy footsteps as a few started to give chase, the sound urging me to run even faster. I had to find a way out, I could climb something and....

My frightened gaze fell on the black delivery truck I'd been so curious about a mere 15 minutes ago. It's doors open. It's engine running. The driver and his associate were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they'd run with the rest of the workers to see what had happened, to possibly help out... in any case, their altruistic behavior was going to be my salvation. I lept in the truck, putting it into gear without even bothering to close the doors. The truck sprinted forward as I slammed on the gas, a surprisingly powerful engine roaring under its hood. The doors crashed shut with the force of the sudden acceleration, all other sounds drowned out by the sound of the engine and my ragged, terrified breathing. I saw figures in the rearview mirror. And the chain link gate in front of me, it's doors already closed with a heavy looking padlock. I floored the gas pedal.

I was doing about 65 miles per hour when the truck hit the gate. Worthy of a Hollywood movie, the thick chain fencing buckled and one of the swinging doors ripped off its hinges as it was flung aside by by bulky vehicle. I stared stright ahead as the warehouse district buildings flew by on either side of me, the harsh glow of the docks receding as I made my escape. The reality of what I'd done was already starting to sink in- this had gone from an impromptu fact finding mission to multiple felonies. As if on cue with my derailing train of thought, a set of headlights lit up my rearview mirror. Three more sets appeared and joined the first, catching up to the truck desipte my already fast rate of speed. Those cars had come through the ruined gates in persuit- it was clear that Apollo Enterprises wanted whatever was in this vehicle and was willing to accomplish that goal by any means necessary.

I watched the other motorcycle drop back and keep pace with the two remaining cars- they still followed closely behind, but now stayed out of striking distance. The steel cables around us were sinking lower now, signaling the end of the bridge and the beginning of the maze of city streets. Suddenly, the truck and road around me lit up brightly, as the unmistakable whir of helicopter blades echoed off the tall buildings that surrounding us. The blinding light skittered across the road, following the truck and bouncing off other vehicles that were already veering off to the sides of the road as if startled. I took the chance break in traffic to take an unprotected left turn against a red light, hoping that perhaps those that persued me on the ground would be distracted by those who watched us all in the sky. To my dismay, the three remaining vehicles all made the same turn and stayed on the truck's tail. The glaring light above swooped across buildings and sidewalks as the helicopter made a lazy left turn in the air in order to follow us. As I glanced at the aircraft as it flew parallel to me a few blocks away, its blue and yellow yellow body prominatntly displaying "Channel 7" on the side. It was a damn news chopper. I weaved my way through the slowing traffic and unconsiously tugged the hoodie I was still wearing down over my face. The last thing I needed was to appear on the evening news- which, if this was a live broadcast, could already be the case. I took a sharp right across an additional lane of traffic, catching and ripping the bumper off of a dark sedan that was waiting at the stoplight. The sedan jolt slightly as the bumper was thrown in the middle of the street but the big truck's subtle armored front was enough to just push through the mess and keep on going. The persuing headlights behind me slowed for a moment in an attempt to avoid the debris, but didn't stop. A fairly clear path had opened up on the new street and I gunned the engine, hoping to put some distance between the other vehicles and myself as the news helicopter's light illuminated the eternal night around us. I flew through three green lights, approching a fourth that turned yellow. I was going to make it.

It happened in slow motion- the light was still yellow, it's glare a warning to oncoming traffic. The other lights at the intersection should have been red. I can only assume that they were, and that the huge semi that appeared in front of me had simply slammed on its breaks too late to stop before the intersection opened up. I wrenched the wheel as hard as I could and felt the tires slipping again. This time however, they continued to slip. The momentum of the delivery truck sent it up on two wheels for briefest of moments before the vehicle landed on its side and came to a crunching halt as it slammed into the semi. I remember seeing sparks on the asphalt as I was thrown down from drivers side to the passengers side. There was another jarring thud, then a second from the exposed belly of the truck. My head felt like it was on fire. There was a dimness at the corners of my eyes, but the adrenaline that was still coursing through me kept it at bay. And then there was a light, glimmering at me from above. My first assumption was that it was the news helicopter again or just a drift away from conciousness. My eyes settled upon upon the real source of the light- the glimmer was coming from inside a small wooden crate about two feet wide by about a foot and a half tall. The small slits between the wood making up the crate's body were letting an unmistakable light shine through, almost as though the box itself was glowing. The straps that held it in place were still connected, keeping the crate nestled between the drivers and passengers side seats- hardly noticable upon first glance. My curiosity and the need to justify my past actions was stronger than my reactive fear of passing out before I could get away. I pulled at the box's restraints and freed my prize, the crate feeling surprising lighter than I'd expected as it tumbled into my arms. The dimness was starting to encroach on my vision again, but the crate's mysterious light encouraged me to continue. Under the box I found a small moving blanket, still neatly folder where it had orginally been placed to give the crate something to siton. I grabbed the heavy woolen fabric and threw it over the crate, the crate's light disappearing under its new covering. I pushed wrapped crate out of the broken windshield and dragged myself out after it.

The cool night air hit my face, pulling me out the numb decent into unconsiousness that kept dogging me. I could hear sirens coming. I could also smell smoke. The delivery truck had partially pushed its way under the semi, the remains of the driver's side now ripped open where the steel frame of the larger vehicle had slammed into it. My escape through the windshield put me directly under the semi truck's frame, the sound of its diesel engine still rumbling in the direction of the cab. The darkness made me want to close my eyes and sleep. But no, I couldn't do that. I had to get some distance between myself and.... all of this chaos. I continued to the far side of the semi truck, noticing the smell of smoke was stronger now. I waited a few seconds before half running, half staggering to the darkness of the nearby street corner with the wrapped crate, hoping that any passers by would be too focused on the accident to notice a shadowy figure leaving the scene. I continued my trek, unsure of where I was going with this stolen crate. Waves of tiredness were washing over me, my walk resembling that of someone who'd had too much to drink at their favorite local bar. Apartment buildings loomed on both sides of me, shielding me from the mess I'd left a few blocks away. A dark alleyway opened up next to me and I found myself stumbling down it until I reached a strangly familiar dead end. That old ventilation shaft that I'd pulled the thielf out of a few days before greeted me, its cover still partially attached as it had been left. Garbage cans still overflowing with filth lines the alleyway walls. I had very few options- I stashed my crate amonst the scattered debris, piling a few garbage bags over the top to hide it as best I could. Once the crate was hidden from view, I walked back over to the ventalation shaft- the thief was trying to climb this thing originally- perhaps it led to one of her hiding spots. Climbing it and possibly encountering her was risky, but staying on the ground was worse- I could still hear the sirens, though they seemed to be getting further away. I craweld into the ventilation shaft, doing my best to support myself on my climb up in my sorry state. Twice I nearly slid back down but managed to catch myself before doing so. I felt a sense of relief when I reached the roof of the building, which increased when I realized that I was the only person there. A small, closet-like room sat to my left, the tattered bit of fabric someone had placed over a broken window fluttering lightly in the mildly smoky breeze. I made my way over to it- the dim space offered up an old mattress, a tattered box full of wallets, and a faded poster of a sunset. A few small trinkets were scattered on the floor, but I took no noticed of them. I remember hearing a distant explosion- a few car alarms from vechicles on the street went off. The darkness that had been threatened the edges of my vision was now overtaking me, the little room seem like it was getting further and further away. I hadn't even hit the mattress before I passed out.

Street Name: T.
Birth Name: Unknown- she refuses to tell anyone what her real name is.
Appearance: See reference photo above.

Personal Characteristics

Birth Date: September 10th
Age: 28
Birth Place: Palo Alto, California
Hometown: I'll always consider Palo Alto my home, but I moved away a long time ago. I doubt I'll go back.
Primary Objective: Monetary comfort- I want to have the ability to acquire the things I want. Despite what you may think of my lifestyle, I'm accustomed to a certain... standard of living. And I intend to keep that standard.
Secondary Objectives: Respect and also power to some degree... but not if it means giving up my primary objectives. I'd rather have money and be unknown than be powerful and be forced to watch my back more than I already do.
Desires:
Secrets: I don't talk about it, but I'm a Hawthorne. You've probably never heard that family surname unless you're in the construction business- we started out small and made a name for ourselves with big workhorse vehicles. Bulldozers, cranes, that sort of thing. Our machinery probably built that office tower you begrudgingly drag yourself to every day. The family business moved into tech, so now you never hear the name Hawthorne in every day conversations. But if you ask the rest of the family, they'll tell you that they're the reason ya'll are able to live your happy little lives. It's no secret I didn't agree with them. Or that they cut me off. These "dangerous endeavors" they accuse me of? They're simply a way of funding the lifestyle I'd become accustomed to.
Quirks: I don't like loud noises. Which is sorta ironic, given that the only weapon I trust is a shotgun. But shotguns are like those cheap little cameras you carry with you on your modest vacations- just point and shoot.

Mental Characteristics

Known Languages: English
Lures: I won't lie, I often end up working harder to befriend those I feel might help me accomplish my goals. I also fall hard for a good burger joint.
Savvies: I found out early on that I've got a skill for driving. Racing for pink slips quickly became a past time, and I found myself the owner of a few nice cars. I sold most of 'em. I kept my favorite one.
Ineptities: I don't understand how some people can be so willing to follow others blindly. I also don't understand the desire own rabbits. The two are unrelated. Probably.
Temperament: I'd like to tell you that I'm phlegmatic- that I'm calm and composed, that I can just figure it out and deal with it. In reality, I'm just really good at hiding my feelings, because feelings can get you in trouble out here. If there's one thing I don't hide, its my unbridled cynicism for society in general. Don't pretend you're here to help, you're here to gain something.
Hobbies: I really enjoy watching nature documentaries. It reminds me that everything (and everyone) out there is always engaged in some sort of struggle.

Intellectual Characteristics

Logical-Mathematical: I like to think I'm logical, but I know I've got my moments where I'm anything but.
Spatial: I didn't major in direction, so don't ask me.
Linguistic: Yeah, I'm great with communication- so long as the other person speaks fluent sarcasm.
Bodily-Kinesthetic: I guess I'm kinda average. But if I'm behind the wheel of a car, it'll become an extension of me and I can do amazing things.
Musical: I use music to drown out the sounds I despise. A good beat can send the real world far, far away.
Interpersonal: I won't lie- marginal at best. I know I have a tendency to judge people before I get to know them and I generally don't stick around long enough to see if my judgements were right or not.
Intrapersonal: There's nothing wrong with me. It's everyone else who's got the problems.
Naturalistic: There isn't much 'nature' around here. But it *is* an environment- and just like any environment, you can either use it to your adventange or wait for it to be used against you.
Existential: It's all bullshit, and I dare you to tell me I'm wrong.

Philosophical Characteristics

Morality: Morality is just an excuse people give themselves to justify their actions. If you claim to do something "for the greater good", it suggests that you're willing to hurt a select few. And to go even further... those people who sacrifice *themselves* for what they think is "right"? What they think is "just"? Those are the people who lose everything. The downtrodden, the forgotten... those who look up at others with sad eyes, when it was they themselves who caused their decent into the moral pit without a means of escape. This doesn't mean we should all be monsters to each other, but it *does* mean that we should do what it takes to protect ourselves.
Perception: Yeah, I'm suppose to tell you how I view the world here. Like "is the glass half full or half empty". Well, I'll tell you this- any one person's perception is partially based on the perception of others. If there's a literal glass of water and you drink half of it, I'll see you as an opportunist. If you throw a paintbrush into the glass of water, I'll see you as an artist. Or a person who doesn't know how to put shit away. I guess if you've gotta label me, you can call me a realist. I calls 'em like I sees 'em.

Spiritual Characteristics

Religion: I moved away from religion a while ago. Though I do sometimes tell people I'm a Satanist to make them leave me alone. It works more often than not.
Superstitions: I do have a lucky rabbit's foot that I keep in the center console of my car. I mean... I guess it works, I'm still here after all. I guess I can't say the same for the rabbit this thing came from...
Virtues: I can exhibit Kindness. But only under the right conditions.
Vices: I suppose one might say Greed is my vice, but I prefer to call it "adhering to personal standards".

Supernatural Characteristics

Ability: I dunno how to even answer this one. Who exactly do you think I am?
Element: You're barkin' up the wrong tree here. Consider this strike two.
Strengths: Eh. I've been around this long, clearly I'm doing something right.
Weaknesses: I guess I can be a little shortsighted. Bu don't blame me, it's not my fault that the "big picture" doesn't seem so big sometimes.
Restrictions: Restrictions to being myself? I doubt it, but who knows. Maybe I'm you and I just don't know it yet.

Likes and Dislikes

Likes: Ramen, burgers, coffee (but only the things that sounds like a sneeze when you order them), cars, peace and quiet, the finer things in life, the feeling of safety, fancy drinks, wine
Dislikes: People who take themselves too seriously, pollution, speeding tickets, rum, most of my family

Apparel

Equipment: I've always got some cash on me, you never know when you're gonna need it.
Wardrobe:
No outfit found

Social Characteristics

Emotional Stability: (How much emotional inflictions can your character take before they break? Lots? None at all? Negative amounts?)
Humor: (What does your character think is funny? Blond jokes? Death? Farting?)
Reputation: (How is your character viewed by their peers? Are they held in high esteem? Do they think he's pure stupid? Do they think he's an alien?)
Status: (What is their social status? Quiet? Popular? Dead?)