*Light black market flags via supplier (if that economy reform thingy is ever implemented)
*MP7 Silencer
*Moderately worn/torn medium-grade body Kevlar
*Black combat boots
*Crude metal bracer (left arm)
*Crude metal faceplate

*Crudely made wooden spear w/ metal tip
*Light black market flags via supplier (if that economy reform thingy is ever implemented)

“God, I can’t stop thinking about how helpless I was when Overwatch came tearing through the pass…” a woman said, standing, looking off into the river below. It was about midday, in the middle of Ineu Valley. Two figures stood along a cliff, a calm river flowing along in the deep gorge below. As she finished speaking, the second figure kicked a stone into the figure, walking out of the shade.

“Hey, least you didn’t get killed. Or even worse, caught” he said, walking towards the side of cliff, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“But that’s not really the point. I mean, it’s everything; Overwatch, antlions, the occasional insane figure who pops their head in. Sure, I’ve got this knife and my hand-to-hand skills, but that’s not really useful when you’ve got a barrel pointed at you from fifty feet away” the woman said, pushing herself off the rock.

The male pulled his hand out of his pocket, adjusting a black duffle bag along his shoulder. He rubbed his chin, pondering for a few moments before speaking, saying, “Well, Alisa, you got any ideas? I mean, guns don’t really grow on trees.”

Alisa stopped, raising her hand to her head. She rubbed her forehead before running her hand through her ragged brown hair, sighing with disappointment after a few long moments of silence. She turned to the cliff once more, bending down to grab a palm sized rock from the grass below her. She tossed it into the hair, starring at it for a few moments before tossing it into the gorge below. She tapped her left foot on the grass for a bit, the man merely waiting in silence as he stared at her, waiting for some vocal sign of what she was thinking. Finally, Alisa’s eyes bulged out, and she slowly lifted her head, turning to the man.

“I know just the place we can get some” she said, a slight smile growing on her face.

The man narrowed his eyes at her, curious of her idea as the expression on her face. “Uh huh, and this place is safe, right?...” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

She shrugged, turning back towards the gorge as she looked off into the distance. “Can’t say for sure. I don’t know /too/ much about him. All I know is his general area of operation, and that he’s supposed to supply everything from weapons to vintage drinks from before the occupation.  We figured out about him during a heavy raid back in my time in City 38. He was supplying a resistance movement there, so I’m assuming he’s got the goods.”

“And how exactly can you be sure that this guy really exists?” the man asked.

Alisa chuckled a bit, “Well, if the hours’ worth of torture on multiple resistance figures didn’t do it, I’m pretty sure the truth serum did the work. Also, Overwatch was able to confirm his existence, just weren’t ever able to catch him. He goes by the name, ‘Wholesale’. Ever heard of him?” she asked.

The man shook his head, looking at Alisa with curiosity, “No, never heard of anyone with that name before. He around here or something?”

Alisa shook her head in return, “No. He operates closer to the City 38 region.”

The man frowned, striding closer to the cliff side. He kicked another stone into the gorge before turning to Alisa, “Well, that’s a pretty long trip to make, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah, it is quite a trip. But me sitting around here isn’t going to do a whole lot, to be honest.” Alisa responded.

The man paused, shaking his head once more. He slid the duffle bag off his shoulder, dropping it to the ground. He then proceeded to roll his aching shoulders, massaging them with both hands. After sighing in a form of relief, he turned to Alisa, sighing once more as he looked upon her. “It sounds dangerous. Going so close to City 38 by yourself. What happens if you get seen by someone you don’t wanna’ get seen by?” the man asked with some form of concern in his tone.

“And what if that was to happen here? Look, everywhere is dangerous out here, for me especially. This’ll give me a chance to make things, well, less dangerous” she stated firmly.

The man nodded his head to the side a ways, agreeing with her. “Well, when are you headed out then?” he asked.

Alisa shrugged, adjusting the backpack on her back. “Well, I’m gonna’ stock up a bit, and then probably head out as soon as possible. I don’t want to be gone any longer than I have too.”

The man nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He turned to the gorge once more, kicking another stone down the large drop. Alisa narrowed her eyes at him for a bit, watching before adjusting her backpack once more, pivoting on her feet towards the forest behind them.

“Well, I’ll be heading out then. I’ll probably be back in around a week I guess” she stated in a monotone voice, somewhat disappointed.

“Alright, see you then…” the man said, continuing to look out over the gorge. Alisa paused for a moment before shrugging, walking along towards the forest. The man turned to face her, silently watching her for a few moments before looking to his duffle bag, and back to her. He shook his head, mumbling to himself as he hoisted the duffle bag over his shoulder, jogging along after her. As he reached her side, Alisa turned, cracking a slight smile.

“You tagging along, Paul?” she asked.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

After the short meeting near the cliff side, the pair headed to town, gathering some supplies for the trip, including needed items like food, water, and some medical supplies. Of course, it’s also good to let their companions know they’re going to be gone for a bit as well, so they did that too. But soon enough, they were off, taking the day trip through the footpath that led out of the valley, and headed in the general direction of City 38.

For a good two days, the pair walked and walked, taking short rests and sleeping when they found proper shelter. They restocked supplies when they were able too, and ate when they rested.  The landscape was quite nice, not as spectacular as the valley, but still a sight to see (being compared to Soviet built cities, after all). At around midday of their fourth day of the trip, though, the pair came upon a small town, somewhat like Belles’ back in Ineu Pass. It seemed odd, though. It was very quiet, and seemed unoccupied, something quite suspicious…

“I don’t know, Alisa. I don’t like the looks of it” Paul said, gripping the strap on his duffle bag tightly.

Alisa narrowed her eyes at the buildings in the village, trying to get some view of the insides of some of the structures. She sighed, not getting the kind of results she expected. She turned to Paul, rubbing the back of her head.

“We can pass around it if you /really/ want to, but it’s getting pretty late. And I don’t really want to go over that small mountain in the middle of the night” Alisa responded.

Paul sighed, giving a slight shrug in agreement, “I guess you’ve got a point there”. He dropped the duffle bag from his shoulder, sliding the zipper down the bag. He then pulled it back, withdrawing an AR2 pulse rifle, resting it over his shoulder as he zipped up the duffle bag, tossing it over his upper shoulder before resting the pulse rifle in his hands.

“I still don’t like the looks of the place” he said plainly.

“Just keep a lookout, and be ready for anything” Alisa responded, cautiously looking around at the entrances and windows of the buildings as the pair walked down the street of the small village.

All the buildings seemed vacant and dead, a few eerie creaks and cracks being the only sound aside from a slight moan of wind. The sun was setting over the hills, and it was quickly getting darker in the village. The pair looked around for what seemed to be the best choice for shelter, with Paul finally making the choice.

“Hey, this one looks good” Paul said, gesturing to a multi-floored building. Alisa shrugged, following behind Paul as he raised his rifle, slowly walking into the building. He pushed on the surface of the door, it opening without any resistance. The two walked in, slowly proceeding to move to a closed room on the first floor. Upon entering, they found a few worn couches, a dresser, and a fireplace with some old firewood sitting beside it.

“Well this is pretty nice, I guess” Alisa stated, walking around the room, checking it out.

Paul relaxed his posture, allowing his rifle to rest against his stomach, “Yeah, it’ll do pretty nicely.”

Alisa nodded, dropping her backpack on the floor next to one of the couches. She dropped onto the couch almost immediately after, letting out a long, deep yawn, “Jesus, I’m tired. We should get some rest here then.”

Paul chuckled, resting his rifle against the other couch. He dropped his duffle bag on the floor, plopping down on the couch. He yawned as well, closing his eyes, quickly falling asleep…

“Alisa, wake up! Come on, wake up!” Paul said in an aggressive whisper as he shook Alisa’s shoulders. She jerked awake, jumping off the couch.

“What’s going on?!” she asked in a hushed voice.

“No idea, but there’s some guys outside. They’re armed, and they don’t look very friendly. They’ve got bones all over em’, weird tattoos, ragged cloth clothing, paint, and weird shit on them!” he said, gripping his rifle tightly.

Alisa yanked out her combat knife from side sheath, flipping it around a few times before sneaking over to the window, looking outside at the group. Like Paul had said, they were wearing torn cloth clothing, and had paint, tattoos, and bones strewn across their bodies. They were armed with clubs, spears, and hatchets, with the one having some kind of gun upon his back. Alisa pulled her head back from the window, walking back over to Paul.

“Look, they’ve mostly got melee weapons. But something isn’t right about the gun on the one’s back. It doesn’t look real enough to me. It looks like it’s got a faded orange tip on it…” Alisa said, turning her head back to the window for a moment.

“I don’t really want to take the chance, Alisa. There’s four of them out there right now, and who knows if there’s more?” he said, somewhat concerned.

Alisa sighed, nodding in agreement. She hoisted up her backpack, throwing it over her shoulders.

“Alright, lead the way, then” she said, sticking close to him.

Paul nodded, raising his rifle up as he slowly moved towards the doorway. The pair stepped outside, quickly, yet silently, making their way out the door and down the street they came. No sign of any of the strangely attired men so far. They made it to the tree line, hoping up the ledge into the thicket of the forest.

“Alright, it looks like we might be goo-“ Paul began to whisper as he turned to Alisa, only to be stopped by a loud screeching war cry and a jab to the back. He let out a yelp in pain as he stumbled forward a ways. Alisa yanked out her knife, sidestepping around Paul and driving her knife towards whatever figure she’d meet on the other side. She was met by the slam of a human body, and a screech of pain in her ears as her knife contacted the stomach flesh of one of the oddly attired men. She stumbled back in pain herself as she was met by a head-butt from a metal faceplate.

Paul immediately rushed forward, bashing the injured man in the neck with the tip of his rifle. The man began to gurgle, falling to his knees as he gripped his throat, proceeding to struggle with his breath as he writhed upon the ground. Paul grabbed Alisa’s arm, pulling her up from the grass. Alisa rubbed her forehead for a moment before driving the knife into the center of the man’s back. The gurgling stopped, followed by the clanging of a crude wooden spear against the tree immediately to Paul's left. He crouched, hoisting it off the ground, quickly standing up to take a look around. A faint sound of yelping and familiar war cries quickly became evident in the distance, and Paul gestured in the general direction. Alisa yanked her knife out of the man’s back, sliding it along her shirt.

“Come on ,we gotta’ go right now!” Paul yelled, sliding his rifle along his back while jogging backwards a few feet. Alisa quickly wrestled the faceplate off the dead man’s head, gripping it underneath her arm before turning to flee deeper into the trees. Paul watched behind them for a few moments before turning, running along after her.

The chants and crying continued as they ran downhill, receiving various cuts and scrapes from branches and roots that littered the forest. As they reached the bottom of the short hill, they saw an overgrown dirt path, with a tunnel at the end of it. The pair stopped for a second, Alisa tilting her head to the side a bit, unsure.

“Look, it’s either we go in there or face a horde of angry tribal men. I pick the tunnel” he said, adjusting his rifle strap, the spear in his right hand. Alisa nodded, breaking off into a sprint towards the tunnel, with Paul right behind her. As they made in halfway through the clearing,  a group of about ten tribally attired men and women broke through the brush, waving spears, hatchets, clubs, and knives as they stormed across the grass towards the two. A mad spree of chanting, cries, and curses began as the group slowly closed in on the two.

Just as the two made it into the tunnel, the horde stopped dead in their tracks, Alisa and Paul still running deeper into the tunnel. After a few moments noticing the lack of any continued sounds of the group, Paul stopped for a second, taking a peak behind him.

“Hey, Alisa, they stopped following us…” he said, catching his breath.

Alisa stopped as well, turning around to confirm the lack of the tribal men following them. She sighed in relief, leaning against the tunnel wall. She pulled out her water bottle from the side of her backpack, flipping back the cap, chugging down some of the water.

“Good thing too, I was starting to get ti-“ Alisa started to stay, stopping as she heard a click, followed by a drop onto a slide of some sorts, falling into darkness.

“Alisa? Alisa?! Where in God’s name did you go?” Paul asked, quickly looking around. He then noticed the dark hole in the wall, looking down into it, yelling, “Alisa?”

A muffled yell came back, “Ow.”

Paul rubbed the back of his head, looking back down into the hole, yelling once more, “Uh, can you see another way down there, I don’t really wanna-“

Suddenly, an all too familiar bug like hiss echoed through the tunnel. Paul’s eyes bulged out as he gulped, looking into the small sized hole, “Try going down this thing your bastards…” he said as he leaped down the hole into the darkness as well, landing with a thud at the base of the slide.

“Ow! Jesus that hurt! Alisa, where you at?” Paul asked, stepping up off the ground. It was pitch black, impossible to see. Paul looked around in the darkness, feeling the open air around him, “Alisa, this isn’t funny, where are you?!” he said once again, feeling the air before touching something, something fleshy.

“Alisa?”

Slam! Darkness.

A sudden burst of light leaked onto Paul’s eyes as the bag was yanked off his head, a rather painful headache coming upon him. He groaned, squinting his eyes shut as he tried to curl up his body to keep the light out as much as possible. Eventually, a bucket of cold water was dumped over his head, causing him to jerk up, his eyes bulging out from the cold shock.

“Gah! Ah! So c-cold! What the hell d-do you want?!” he yelled, looking at his surroundings. He was in a dirt room, some kind storage area in a mineshaft by the looks of it. He was sitting in a small wooden chair, a bed and a small wooden end table next to him. Directly in front of him, however, stood a massive man in a tank top, easily around 6’5” and close to 300 pounds. He breathed heavily, starring down with anger at Paul.

Paul swallowed, looking up at the huge man in front of him. He leaned back, the chair screeching across the floor. He blinked his eyes a few more times, adjusting his vision to the lighting. He quickly looked back to the large man, who simply kept a silent watch over him. Paul nervously tapped his left foot, gazing around the room. After a few short moments, Paul turned to the large man, “Sooooo, where am I, exactly?” he asked.

The large man let out a long, exaggerated breath, flexing his arm muscles as he kept a close watch on Paul. Paul leaned back in his chair once again, resuming his scan of the room. He continued to tap his foot idly on the dirt floor, jerking his head over to the right side of the room as he heard the creaking of a door opening. In stepped two figures, one being a male of an average height, with greased black hair and a worn pre-war suit. The other seemed to be female, wearing a brown hoodie, jeans, and a crude mask over her face. The pair spoke for a few moments quietly before turning to Paul, who merely watched silently.

“Ah, Mr. Haynes. It’s a pleasure to meet you” the man in the suit said, walking over to Paul. The female figure merely crossed her arms, hanging back for the time being. The suited man extended his hand gingerly, Paul cautiously extending his own hand to shake it. The suited male shook it firmly, smiling.

“My name is ‘Wholesale’, and welcome to my base of operations. My apologies for the conditions you’re in, I never liked having to keep my guests like this. But alas, precautions are necessary in times like these.”

Paul slid his gaze over to the female figure, who slowly began to chuckle, walking towards Paul. As she got within a few feet, she slowly removed her mask, revealing a familiar face.

“Alisa!” Paul said, sighing in relief. Alisa cracked a smile, calming her chuckling. She extended an arm to Paul, pulling him up from the chair. She patted him on the back, gesturing towards Wholesale.

“We stumbled into his base after being chased by those rather odd tribal fellows outside. They found me and dragged me in, but Bubba here got a little bit offended when you touched his, er…”

The large figure narrowed his eyes at Paul, breathing heavily as he watched him intently. Paul sidestepped a ways away from the figure apparently known as ‘Bubba’, swallowing quietly. He turned back towards ‘Wholesale’, raising an eyebrow.

“So, uh, ‘Wholesale’. Did Alisa talk to you about the, uh…”

“Yes, we’ve spoken already. Unfortunately, I cannot supply any firearms at this time. However, I have supplied your friend here with a change of clothes and some Kevlar in return for the quite useful medkit she supplied me with. It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen such a fully equipped first aid kit, outside of City operations, of course” the suited man responded.

Paul nodded along, looking around the room curiously for his gear, “Say, where’s my stuff?”

The suited man raised a finger, turning his body towards the large man, “Bubba, would you mind escorting Mr. Haynes here to his equipment, please? That would be wonderful!”

The large man grunted, giving a firm nod. He walked across the room, grabbing hold of Paul’s arm, practically dragging him along as he squeezed down on the flesh. Paul yelped slightly in pain as he was dragged along the dirty floor through the tunnel towards a larger mess hall area, in which various uniformed and equipped people ate, talked, and worked on various tasks. A few turned to look at the pair as they passed, but paid no special attention to them.

Bubba stopped at a beaten green cabinet, releasing Paul from his grip. Paul rubbed his arm in pain as Bubba wrapped his arms around the green cabinet, sliding it over with brute strength, revealing a carved out whole in the side of the tunnel. Inside it was a black duffle bag and the crude wooden spear. Paul smiled, quickly retrieving his equipment. As he turned around, he noticed Alisa and ‘Wholesale’ approaching them.

“Well, Ms. Hallows, it looks like you’ve got all that you’ve needed. I can give you some supplies for you to make it back to the Valley, along with my contacting information” ‘Wholesale’ said, his arms folded behind his back.

Alisa nodded firmly, turning towards Paul, “That’d be great.”

‘Wholesale’ nodded, sliding out a clean handheld radio from his pocket. He turned a few knobs, speaking into the radio, “Yes, supply depot two, I’d like two travel packs sent up to the mess hall ASAP, if you would be so kind.” He lowered the radio, tapping his foot for a few moments. He tilted his head to the side, raising the radio to his mouth once again, “Supply room two?”

Alisa raised an eyebrow, starring curiously at ‘Wholesale’, who pursed his lips, looking at the frequency along the device. He rubbed his chin, impatiently tapping his left foot as he spoke into the radio once more, “Supply room two, please respond immediately!”

As he spoke, the wooden door at the far left side of the mess hall broke open in a loud bang, a bloodied human body flying in screaming, followed by the buzzing of wings and hissing. Figures in the room jerked their head towards the door, jumping up from their tables as a small pack of antlions began to rush into the room.

Gunfire almost instantly began to go off in the direction of the bugs, hissing and screeching filling the room along with shouting and crashing of various objects. Alisa rushed towards the weapons cabinet, kicking off the lock with her foot, followed closely behind by Paul and Bubba, who was carrying ‘Wholesale’ over his back. Alisa tossed a Mac-10 to Paul, taking out a SPAS-12 for herself. She slid over to the bar counter, aiming the weapon over at the nearest antlion.

A loud bang echoed through Alisa’s ears as she was splashed with blood, flesh, and whatever else happened to fly about when an antlion’s head is blown apart. She pumped the shotgun, wiping her eyes off in a swift motion. Paul, crouching next to her, fired a volley of rounds into a pair of antlions ripping apart an already mutilated figure next to one of the tables across the room. Alisa gritted her teeth, firing a shell from her shotgun into the nearest bug.  Again, flesh scattered throughout the room as the flesh from thee antlion was torn apart.

“Alisa, Paul!” a familiar voice shouted. Alisa jerked her head around, seeing ‘Wholesale’ motioning near a doorway opposite the entrance the antlion’s were flooding in from. Alisa tugged on Paul’s shoulder getting his attention. She gestured towards the doorway, “Go, I’ll cover you!”

Paul tossed the Mac-10 aside, gripping his spear as he adjusted the strap on his duffle bag, hopping over the counter in a mad rush towards the doorway. Alisa fired two rounds in the general direction of a pair of antlions before rushing backwards, ducking to allow ‘Wholesale’s men to fire a volley of their own into the horrid creatures. Alisa stumbled towards the doorway, dropping the SPAS-12 as she tripped over a mutilated human corpse. She grimaced a bit at the sight, shaking her head as she continued to sprint towards the open doorway.

The group hooked a right along the tunnel, followed by a larger group of ‘Wholesale’s armed soldiers rushing into the mess hall. Alisa propped herself against the wall of the tunnel, sighing in some form of relief. ‘Wholesale’ breathed heavily, speaking into his radio, “I need a sitrep, now.”

Static emitted from the radio, following by a male voice, “We’ve got the leak closed off. All we’ve gotta’ do is kill the wandering bugs around, sir.”

‘Wholesale’ sighed in relief, sliding down against the wall, pulling his knees in towards him. Bubba stood at his side, holding on tightly to a large assault rifle, peering down the hallway towards the mess hall door for any straggling antlions. Paul gripped the spear tightly in his hands, peering down the hallway as well.

“Thank you for helping out there, we always worry about stuff like that happening. And, truth is, it happens more often than I’d like it too…” ‘Wholesale’ said, rubbing his forehead.

Alisa nodded slowly, adjusting her backpack, “Well, I guess you’re welcome…”

‘Wholesale’ nodded back, reaching into his suit pocket. He rummaged around for a bit, shakily pulling out a small, black cylindrical object, along with a card. He extended the two items to Alisa, with her curiously accepting them.

“A silencer for an MP7, if you ever get one, along with my contact information” he said, pulling himself off the ground.

Alisa looked to him, smiling, “Thanks.”

Paul turned to ‘Wholesale’, gesturing down the tunnel, “That the way out of here?”

‘Wholesale’ nodded, “Indeed it is.”

Paul sighed in relief, gesturing towards Alisa, “Come on, let’s get out of here. I don’t want to be down here anymore”

Alisa chuckled, shaking ‘Wholesale’s hand firmly, “We’ll stay in touch”

The pair turned, walking down the poorly lit tunnel, Paul with his duffle bag and spear, Alisa with her pack and newly acquired apparel. Eventually, they made it to the outside, being immersed in the bright light of the sun. Alisa stopped, clasping the armband onto her right arm. She grabbed the crude faceplate, sliding it over her head.

“Trying to bring back the good old days, are we?” Paul jokingly asked.

“It’s gonna be a long trip home…”

*Ability to obtain shipments of food, medical supplies, radios, etc
*Can supply people for good
*Can make a profit off supplies

*Silences the weapon, making it quieter if she’s in need of stealth.

*Provides protection against pistol rounds to SMG rounds (SMG rounds being a moderate distance away)
*Provides some protection against piercing weapons (knives mainly)

*Provides warmth and protection for her feet
*Gives traction in rugged areas, as well as solid ground
*Black color allows them to blend with darkness

*Can be used as an armband
*Looks cool, attracting all the peeps in the area
*Can be used as a light form of shielding against melee attacks
*Can be used to an extent as a melee weapon (closeline, anyone?)

*Conceals her face from being seen
*Possible fear element when dealing with enemies
*Provides protection for her face as well.

*Getting the supplies costs money and time
*No guarantee she can sell/trade the supplies
*Could make her a possible target

*Obviously doesn’t make the weapon completely silent.

*Kevlar is worn, and torn up a bit, so it isn’t fully effective
*Doesn’t fit perfectly, so it may be uncomfortable
*Adds an extra layer, and with the weather getting warm, yeah.

*I can’t really think of any defects for combat boots, other than the fact they’re slightly worn and might get uncomfortable if worn for too long.

*Only really fits on left arm
*Crudely fashioned, might not fit perfectly/be uncomfortable
*Limits movement slightly
*Could cause problems if she's injured in the arm (IE: Shot through the bracer, with it possibly getting stuck on her arm)

*Faceplate is crudely fashioned, so it’s not like it’s fitted and all comfortable.
*Limits breathing to an extent.
*Would need to be removed to eat or drink.
*Might get hot behind faceplate during warmer weather.
*Might scare away friendly people ?

The following passages from 091's diary are kept on her person in a small, worn, leather bound book. None of this information is to be used ICly for any purposes unless you are told by someone with this knowledge, or somehow gain possession of this diary.

Note for reading through these passages. Anything in italics is her personal writing, and can be found in the diary. Anything not in italics is describing a memory/event in her past, whether it's from City 45, City 38, before the war, etc. Again, don't metagame that information unless you were there or heard her/someone who knows about it has told you so. I'm sure you guys all know that.

A useful reference page for a small backstory in regards to a series of events for 091 going rogue can be found at the following link: http://www.catalyst-gaming.net/index.php?topic=21951.0

I'll be making updates with passages as significant stuff happens on the Outlands server, or when I have outside time to write some more stories. Hope you enjoy these!

It seems like I haven't stopped running for days, now. All I remember was loud, piercing cracks, a dead weight  falling from my arms, and a sudden collapse deep inside. 422 was shot, fell behind, and I left him. He fell behind, and I left him. I left him. I always told myself I'd never leave a friend behind, that I'd never allow anyone to fall behind. I remember back in City 45, during a flood, a unit braced the onslaught of waves to bring me to safety. He was swept away, carried towards the deep, dark tunnels of P3. I went in and saved him. But I left 422, dropped him into the grasp of the very thing he wanted to escape; death.

I keep telling myself it's better he died that way, better he died with a sense of being and life about him. He still could care, still hoped for better times with a sense of joy about him. I can't remember what feelings truly feel like. I don't know love, happiness, joy, sadness, anger, loneliness. All I feel is emptiness. But he had it all, he had the ability to embrass human emotions. Yet, he died, and I remain.

I remember spending my mornings as a young unit looking out along the skyline of City 45 during dawn, watching with pride and a sense of freshness as the sun came into view, giving light to the world. But now, I sit watching the sun rise with nothing. I have no sense of pride for my actions, no hope for the future, nothing new about me. I can only think about all the people I've hurt, all the people I've treated like a body of flesh to put together, or to blast apart. But in the end, I'm the simple body of flesh tied to a robotic mind.


I left him behind...

Alisa Hallows. The woman I took the clothes from, along with her CID card. Age twenty-three, 5'10, brown hair, green eyes. CID numbers 22761. Loyalist status confirmed, tier four. Home city, 38. Home district, number 2. Apartment complex number 3, floor A, room 12. Married to citizen John Hallows, CID number 12448.

The new me. Alisa Hallows. I've decided it's not worth trying to fix the old me. I don't even know Hailey McLinn anymore. All I know is three numbers, and they're 0, 9, and 1. Trying to bring Hailey back will never work. She died long ago, and was lost in memory. Besides, knowing that Overwatch is bound to be after me, running around with my old name or digits isn't a smart idea. Alisa Hallows will have to do. She'll represent me, the new me, that is. Whatever that happens to be. I haven't figured it all out quite yet.

I've come to the conclussion that I'll never be able to fully embrace human emotions again. I'd say it's sad, but I still feel indifferent at the thought. Maybe Alisa will manage to find out the truth.

“Flower? Flower?! Are you down there?!” The voice echoed through the gorge. It was a cold winter’s evening in at a small ridge outside City 45. A darkened figure stood in the midst of falling snow, shouting to the darkness before him. “Flower! Come on out now! It’s alright, really!” he shouted once more. Again, there was no response. With a sad sigh, he turned around, departing into the cover of the trees.

As soon as the man was engulfed by darkness, a small head peaked over a small rock around 25 feet away from his original position overlooking the small gorge. After a few silent moments, the head grew into a full figure as a small, young woman slowly withdrew from the rocks. She looked around, shivering in the cold weather. Soon, she began to stray away from the direction the man departed to, only for something to latch onto her arm.

“Gotcha!” a different, deeper voice shouted as he jumped from the brush, latching onto the woman’s right arm. She screamed, attempting to jerk her arm away from the man as she smacked and kicked his large, muscular feature. After a few moments of thrashing about, the man lunged his fist over the woman’s head.
Darkness.

---

After Flower’s departure from City45 into the Outlands, she quickly became lost in the harsh wilderness. After wandering for a few days aimlessly, she managed to stumble into a small pack of antlions. If not for a brave yet small party of three, she surely would have been eaten. The group consisted of two men and one woman. The first man and the woman were about equal in size, and seemed generally average at first glance. The pair were husband and wife, and went by the names ‘Dog’ and ‘Cat’. The other male was a large, muscular man in his late forties. He wore biker’s attire, and was simply called ‘Johnny’. With nowhere to go and no one to stick with, she instinctively joined the group for protection and companionship.

As the months passed, however, she realized how big of a mistake it was. Cat and Dog were arguably insane, and druggies as well. While they were off wondering where to get their next hit, Flower was stuck with Johnny, who used her for his own enjoyment. If she refused, she was beaten. If she tried to run, Johnny made sure she paid for her mistake. One event, however, set her off and changed the course of events.

The group was staying the night in a cave, one that Johnny had been looking for, apparently for a good while too. Nobody questioned the stay, but when they found a stash of assorted narcotics, problems arose. Dog and Cat wanted to use it, while Johnny wanted to sell it. After a heated debate, Johnny had enough. In a swift movement, he withdrew a four inch combat knife, driving it into Dog’s throat. Cat immediately began to claw at Johnny with her long nails, but merely met a similar fate as her husband.

Johnny chuckled, dropping the knife next to the two bodies in order to rummage through his plunder. Flower could only stare at the bodies in horror and silence. “Hey, girlie, get yer’ ass over here and help me with the stuff!” he commanded, still looking through the loot with glee. Flower reached for the knife, slowly moving towards Johnny.

“God dammit girlie, how many times do I need ta-“

Johnny screamed as the knife entered his shoulder. Flower began to scream out in rage, yanking the knife from his body. She continued to thrust the blade forward, this time connecting with Johnny’s center torso. Johnny shouted in pain, clutching his chest.

“W-What are you doing?!” he yelled.

Flower drove the knife towards Johnny once again, an expression of complete rage upon her face as she ripped apart his body with the blade. She repeatedly stabbed his body over and over again, continuing long after the screaming stopped. Finally, with blood coating her t-shirt and body, she stepped back, breathing heavily. She wiped a single tear from her eye, wandering out of the cave into the snow, searching for a new home…

Description: A white male of an average height, with brown hair/eyes. He wears a thin, grey hoodie and faded jeans.

Accent: Spanish-Basque Fusion

Eye Colour: Brown
Hair Colour: Dark Brown
Height: 5'11"
Facial Features:
   *Average nose
   *Stuble along chin
   *Thick scar along left cheek
Body Features:
   *Long scar along right arm.
   *Black tattoo of the word, "Aurre!", near right shoulder blade on back.
Clothing:
   *Medium grey hoodie made of thin cloth, no markings.
   *Worn, faded dark blue jeans, with a tear below the left knee.
   *A brown 'Navarre' t-shirt under hoodie.
   *Worn, white Nike tennis shoes with black stripes along the sides.
Accessories:
   *Antique pocket watch, "Eloriga" engraved on outside cover.
   

**Will add at a later date**