Without Phoenix lurking around in her mind, Martyr felt...exposed. Taking the alley was the fastest way home, but she knew Valcroix wouldn't like it. There was no armor to protect her, no voice in her mind telling her to grow a pair. It left an empty hole in the deep of heart and soul. Hugging her hooded jacket around her body, the woman walked on the tips of toes. A lip quivered lightly, as vibrant violets scanned the area around her. A soft, nervous tune hummed from copious lips while a hand left the zipper of the jacket to trace along the wall.
Her repairs were....Incomplete. Her exoskeleton form was clunky and heavy, but for the moment it served her purpose well. She had escaped her Mother's little hideaway, and had found herself once again in the exposed air of the city. The coldness of the early nights these days meant nothing to her, for the icy grip of death pounded against her struggling heart, and each passing moment brought her closer to death. A death, she could avoid, if she found a bountiful supply of the liquid she required. But she did not just need her legs, to move. Like her Mother, she was adept at moving vast distances unseen, stalking her prey upon the rooftops, using the telekinesis inherited by her Father to launch herself from tile, to tile across the way. And then she saw it. The one alone. Didn't they know there was a murderer about' She knew all about it. She wasn't dead to the world, just yet. She looked delicious, almost too much so. The way she walked. The way she hummed - the way, she pursed those lips together. Those beautiful lips....She wanted those lips, to scream those agonizing moments of pleasure before her fangs penetrated her neck. A shame really, her feet were now heavy, and no amount of Vampyric ability would stop her metallic feet from crushing tiles and causing all kinds of ruckus in her wake.
Everything about her screamed helplessness. From that rangy body, to the doe-eyed expression on her face. The all too chilling feeling of another's eyes upon her, made her chest tight, and froze her very pedestals in place. Mocha tresses that lined that seemingly fragile face swayed in the wind, clinging to lips and nose alike. With elevating brows and a gaping mouth, Martyr slowly spoke in those hiccupping lyrics. "H-hello' Is an-nyone t-there?" As if the lurker might come up, shake her hand and introduce itself. She turned slowly, spinning on the tips of toes with the grace of a professional dancer—which, she was not. Slender digits moved to claim those flawless locks, to push them away from those amethyst pools and allow pupils to come out and claim the unknown being. They scanned around almost frantically, as heels slid backwards. Yes, everything about her seemed helpless—but it wasn't as if Martyr didn't have one or two tricks up her sleeve. Strange how her slight movement caused the most noise. But from her drop from rooftop to ground, just as Martyr turned, May landed quite elegantly, and quite silently behind her, despite the heavy burden she must now carry around. What she wore over the top of her scarred, wounded shell was a long, tight PVC trench coat, tightly fitted against her form, ensuring every inch of her was covered in its embrace. Even her neck was concealed somewhat, by a collar that reached to just under her chin. It was obvious she had some kind of surgery. Bandages still wrapped the left side of her face, covering her left eye, her nose, and left cheek, but it allowed for most of her mouth to be revealed and with it the quivering lips, and the Vampyric fangs, drooling. But before she could easily make the stealth kill a mere attempt, she coughed, and then stumbled back right onto her rear. She coughed, heaving as blood splattered from her lips, and onto the ground beside her. She had the perfect chance. The perfect chance to....The array of noises below the trench coat, were like an array of machines moving. That whining whurr, that whining whimper of attempting to enact some kind of movement in a biological attempt. But it just made it all the more....Robotic.
The widening of eyes left the woman with two, tiny violet orbs staring straight ahead as the beast made a noise behind her. Not to mention the sticky vital that the woman sprayed near her feet....Copious lips parted to allow herself a whimper, "Un...!" Was the only noise that her body allowed as the fear-frozen girl slowly, carefully turned. It was then that she saw the face of her probable-attacker. Still, Martyr was never one to judge a book by its cover. Taking one or two steps backwards, she offered a smile that could be described as anything but confident. "O-oh, h-hello..!" The woman chimed in those stammering lyrics. Another step back was taken as she felt her heart begin to pound within that boney cavity kicking against lungs and ribs alike. Nostrils flared as she took in another breath. "A-are y-you alright?"
Her repairs were....Incomplete. Her exoskeleton form was clunky and heavy, but for the moment it served her purpose well. She had escaped her Mother's little hideaway, and had found herself once again in the exposed air of the city. The coldness of the early nights these days meant nothing to her, for the icy grip of death pounded against her struggling heart, and each passing moment brought her closer to death. A death, she could avoid, if she found a bountiful supply of the liquid she required. But she did not just need her legs, to move. Like her Mother, she was adept at moving vast distances unseen, stalking her prey upon the rooftops, using the telekinesis inherited by her Father to launch herself from tile, to tile across the way. And then she saw it. The one alone. Didn't they know there was a murderer about' She knew all about it. She wasn't dead to the world, just yet. She looked delicious, almost too much so. The way she walked. The way she hummed - the way, she pursed those lips together. Those beautiful lips....She wanted those lips, to scream those agonizing moments of pleasure before her fangs penetrated her neck. A shame really, her feet were now heavy, and no amount of Vampyric ability would stop her metallic feet from crushing tiles and causing all kinds of ruckus in her wake.
Everything about her screamed helplessness. From that rangy body, to the doe-eyed expression on her face. The all too chilling feeling of another's eyes upon her, made her chest tight, and froze her very pedestals in place. Mocha tresses that lined that seemingly fragile face swayed in the wind, clinging to lips and nose alike. With elevating brows and a gaping mouth, Martyr slowly spoke in those hiccupping lyrics. "H-hello' Is an-nyone t-there?" As if the lurker might come up, shake her hand and introduce itself. She turned slowly, spinning on the tips of toes with the grace of a professional dancer—which, she was not. Slender digits moved to claim those flawless locks, to push them away from those amethyst pools and allow pupils to come out and claim the unknown being. They scanned around almost frantically, as heels slid backwards. Yes, everything about her seemed helpless—but it wasn't as if Martyr didn't have one or two tricks up her sleeve. Strange how her slight movement caused the most noise. But from her drop from rooftop to ground, just as Martyr turned, May landed quite elegantly, and quite silently behind her, despite the heavy burden she must now carry around. What she wore over the top of her scarred, wounded shell was a long, tight PVC trench coat, tightly fitted against her form, ensuring every inch of her was covered in its embrace. Even her neck was concealed somewhat, by a collar that reached to just under her chin. It was obvious she had some kind of surgery. Bandages still wrapped the left side of her face, covering her left eye, her nose, and left cheek, but it allowed for most of her mouth to be revealed and with it the quivering lips, and the Vampyric fangs, drooling. But before she could easily make the stealth kill a mere attempt, she coughed, and then stumbled back right onto her rear. She coughed, heaving as blood splattered from her lips, and onto the ground beside her. She had the perfect chance. The perfect chance to....The array of noises below the trench coat, were like an array of machines moving. That whining whurr, that whining whimper of attempting to enact some kind of movement in a biological attempt. But it just made it all the more....Robotic.
The widening of eyes left the woman with two, tiny violet orbs staring straight ahead as the beast made a noise behind her. Not to mention the sticky vital that the woman sprayed near her feet....Copious lips parted to allow herself a whimper, "Un...!" Was the only noise that her body allowed as the fear-frozen girl slowly, carefully turned. It was then that she saw the face of her probable-attacker. Still, Martyr was never one to judge a book by its cover. Taking one or two steps backwards, she offered a smile that could be described as anything but confident. "O-oh, h-hello..!" The woman chimed in those stammering lyrics. Another step back was taken as she felt her heart begin to pound within that boney cavity kicking against lungs and ribs alike. Nostrils flared as she took in another breath. "A-are y-you alright?"