@deathblssms
BREATHE. EXHALE. FIRE. KILL. Four simple steps... and four she repeated without faltering. Easy. It was almost too easy now, even upon the streets of her own beloved France. Time seemed to move at a standstill for her, slowing to a narrow moment in the span between her very shallow breaths that came with the traveling of her bullet. Simple jobs - easy defense. A few kills and that was that. But she sees it before he does - high in the sky, with her gaze fixated upon the ground, the high powered rifle aimed near that dark shrouded hood. Another breath. The assailant’s hand is pulling the trigger, but she is faster - just in time to splatter brains on the cobblestones and a bit of gore upon her black-clothed partner as well. Oops.
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It’s dark in the hideout... a small home in the countryside, just a jumping off point before heading home, already far from the carnage they’d caused hours prior. Without her mask Amélie would look almost normal against the domestic French backdrop, were it not for the blue tint to her skin and lethal glow to molten gold orbs... and that ridiculous suit. “ Reaper. ” She does not have to see him to know him near - so it’s a silken lull of his name, but every word that comes from the sniper’s mouth is laced with a poisonous mixture of sultry and disdain. It is often hard to tell which is more prevalent until it’s far too late and she does so like to keep him guessing.
“ My little death... ” Like calls to like and were they not two harbingers of carnage and despair? The flash in her hues screams of danger but the single finger at his chest, over where his heart would lay, screams even louder. “ You are getting sloppy. Is there something on your mind or are you just getting old? ” She didn’t actually care, but malevolent behavior made it hard not to ask.
