on-the-rooftop
Blood dripped steadily onto the floor. Three men collapsed around him, all sharing the fate of a sliced throat. Plastic bags were strewn on the table, containing a blue compound inside. Noir held a bag in his hands, allowing the camera attached to this suit to analyse it.
A voice caught his attention. He turned his head slowly.
It was a normal day. For him, at least. It wasn’t his fault she had decided to come close as he was finishing up. He stepped over the nearest criminal’s corpse then paused to gauge her stance. She didn’t seem affiliated, judging from the fact she had opted to call to him rather than attempt a sneak up. But people were funny like that. They made silly decisions.
He dropped the bag to the floor and held a knife in its place, waiting for her next move.
Liliya eyed the knife in his hand and the readiness of his stance, and with a roll of her eyes she held her hands up just enough so that he could clearly see them and the fact that they were empty. Even if she was reasonably sure she could manage it, fighting one of Vought’s darlings wasn’t exactly something she was keen to give a shot, especially considering the scene all around them.
“Easy there, big guy, I’m not here to stir up trouble. If anything, I should thank you; you saved me a bit of hassle by doing my job for me.”