Antoir Setrrin
I've Met My End
FONDOR:
Cress City, Apartment District
Drugs did their job. Calming nerves, slowing thoughts, and soothing rage. Twenty nine years of pain couldn't counteract the chemicals pulsing through her veins. Thanks to science, the mad merc was free. Free from mental chains that had once bound her. Now Kairo had left her past behind, focusing on one thing: The present. It was simpler now, without having to try and subdue emotions and memories. The change had took some time, of course, and not all easily adjusted to the reformed mercenary. There were still many who watch her with cold, wary eyes.
As always, there were those who called her a demon. Saying her yellow eyes were marks of a devil. Prior to her medication, she would have showed them how right they were.
But these days? A chuckle is all they get in reply.
The Protectorate was her family, and Kairo worked harder then ever to help them as they had helped her. In time she had been able to afford a better apartment, one with a nice view. On her off work days she worked at Telja's Tats, the tattoo shop she co-owned. Business was often slow, due to heavy competition, but was still enjoyable. Moving one's hand in slow, repeated patterns can be quite calming, as the merc had learned. Especially turns of the wrist required for abstract designs. Ever flowing, moving across the skin in such a delicate matter... Just the thought brought a grin to her face.
Kairo was a changed woman.
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"Night Telja! See you in a few days. Gotta do a job for OP. Try not to burn the place down while I'm gone," Kairo joked. Thin lips were pursed into sly smile, smoothed out over her facial features. Combat boots hit the ground softly, letting out quiet thuds with each step. A light breeze caused the merc to pull her jacket closer. Perhaps it hadn't been the best day to wear a tank top. Soon Kairo would be at her speeder, and the heater would warm her bones up.
Maybe even clear the odd sense of dread that hung in the night air. Had the feeling arose before her change, she would have stopped. Checked every system in her speeder, kept a gun in her hands at all times, and triple locked her apartment door. Unfortunately for her, and many others, drugs convinced her to ignore her gut. So Kairo merely shook her head and started to head home.
Music came out of the radio, blocking the upset hum of the engine. Once again mediation partially blocked her pilot's instincts. Slowing her speed was her only reaction, one only her subconscious had an explanation for. Later investigation would find that this action saved Kairo's life. However it wasn't enough to stop what was coming. As Ven'Rain would have said: Fate always seems to win.
A roar was unleashed as multiple subsystems failed. Every muscle in the merc's body was now screaming at her, wishing to pull maneuver after maneuver in a futile attempt to regain control. The speeder started to spin, the steering gone wild. Without the engine functioning the whole vehicle started to drop. Gears seemed to scream as they plummeted towards the ground. Safety systems kicked in last second, trying to decrease damage sustained. It wasn't enough to cushion the force of a two-ton speeder hitting the street. But instead of Kairo crashing straight into the controls, she was thrown to the side, her head's descent slowed to some minor degree.
Fire erupted from the speeder, and medics were alerted via its emergency functions. A few nearby citizens stopped to help, and pulled the merc's bleeding body out of the wreckage. There were cuts and scrapes along her arms and legs, along with a gash across her forehead. Further inspection would find numerous broken bones. The worst of the damage wouldn't be discovered until later.
Part of Kairo's brain had been compromised. There was a good chance that she would start suffering from amnesia.
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Time had passed. Long, quiet nights. For the merc had not awakened. Her heart still beat, her lungs still sucked in air, and her cells remained active. Only she remained in sleep. Endlessly still, unmoving. Practically dead. Doctors had agreed, it was a trauma induced coma. They had taken her off life support, but still monitored her. No one was sure if she'd wake up, or when she might. Visitors were allowed, as investigations had proved no foul play had been involved.
Most had been old military buddies, friends from darker times. A few of her tattoo clients had come in, thanking her once more before setting a small gift or handful of credits on the table. Once or twice someone from her apartment complex had come in, only trying to get out of the cold. They had been shooed away quietly and quickly.
Sea'Rain, Kairo's mother, had started staying at a nearby hotel. Most days she sat next to her daughter, crying silent tears.
The room's decor didn't help. Tan walls were adorned with locked cabinets, most blocked with machines that uttered constant beeps. In one corner was a sad little plant of unknown origins. It had been ignored by the nurses, and the leaves had started to turn brown and break off. Some of the posters regarding rules and procedures on the walls had started to peel off, and went untouched.
A sleeping patient required little assistance, it seemed.
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Today had started out as always. Sea'Rain had returned to her daughter, a nurse made sure all machines were properly arranged and in order, then other visitors were allowed to enter. Some would simply pay their respects, while others wished to speak to Sea about their neutral friend. The day held many opportunities, as every one did.
@[member="Circe Savan"], @[member="Ventasia Terana"], @[member="Domino"], @[member="Isis Fontana"], @Members of The Protectorate and people