Stag's P.O.V.:
The eerie navy hues of the sky and the night that surrounded us did not make my apprehension negate. This was a suicide mission and we knew it; SHE knew it. Gritting my teeth, I cast a side glance towards the subject of my thoughts unconsciously.
"If looks could kill, I'd been dead," her quiet but deep voice crashed into my thoughts.
I woke from my reverie, startled, at hearing her talk. She rarely talks. Hell, I may have heard her speak maybe five or six times. Her aura wasn't that powerful of a presence but, when she spoke, she made even the hardened, experienced warriors straighten up.
I put a casual smirk on my face. " If you're referring to me, Diabla, I believe you'll need to get your eyes checked." In response, she just dead panned me. Swear it on all good and holy, if looks could kill, this woman would have that power.
Diabla was not your run of the mill type of woman. HQ just dropped her in my squad and gave a sheepish excuse along with a warning: ' Don't Tell her what to do. Don't piss her off.' Piss her off, my ass. At least that was what I wanted to say.
She stood at 5'10" with jet black hair to her thighs that she would braid with spiked metal strings incorporated. Her copper complexion complemented almost blackened eyes. High cheek bones, a small flattened pug nose, and heavy brows made it hard to figure out what ethnicity she was. She was an enigma alright. A deadly one.
When she entered my squad, her attitude screamed tough guy who had no interests in other's. Just give her orders and the money and she'd set out by herself. Like she attempted to do this time around too. I rolled my eyes, lost again in my thoughts. Impatiently, I swatted at those thoughts.
" Don't know why you accepted this quest, Dia. You know it's, at least, a 12 man squad quest. What were you thinking?!"
With a belligerent laugh, she turned to me, taking her dual blades out. Ah fuck, shouldn't have bitched at her. I scooted a step back, ready with my hand on my plasma pistol.
" Because I can and I'll win. Plus, I was fucking bored in the barracks." Giving a tight lipped nod to me, she went to the edge of the tower and causally stepped off of the ledge.
My jaw should have unhinged at her blatant cockiness. Groaning as I got to my feet, I peered over the fifteen plus story tower that my ever so confident companion just yeeted herself off of. I sighed, "No way in hell I'll get in her way. Just keep an eye on her and pull her out before I have to fish for parts of her ass out of the sea. "
Again, I sighed and proceeded to finish my cigarette.
Diabla's P.O.V.:
If you're gonna bitch at me, why the fuck you come? My countenance darkened as I fell from the tower, safely away from Stag's gaze. I don't get this idiot. Though I'd made it clear as fucking day I didn't like people.
People, I snorted at the thought. Yeah we may walk on two legs, eat, sleep, fuck and shit like humans, but I guess scientifically, we aren't. Each and every one of the idiotic squad have been organically bioengineered in a science lab searching a way to enhance human physiology to withstand our environment.
We all have at least one power. These powers, we call them Attributes and we, ourselves are called Attributors. Worldwide, there are 560 Attributors. Our squad are only 20 of that 560. Each of us have been ranked class D and below. Except me. I frowned, recollecting the attributions collections, meaning testing, that I had done 3 years ago. Motherfuckers didn't seem to care for mine but still ranked me at Class SSS. What pathetic HQ would hire those bumbling, bitchass wastes of spaces? But, Contributors are supposedly as important as us Attributors.
Frustrated, I clapped my hands together, trying to forget what they had put me through that day, as I fell closer and closer to the murky bronze water below. Whatever. Kill the target. Grab it's heads. Get the money and then go to bed. These thoughts aren't helping.
Raising my hand towards the water, I began my mental incantation, " I seek the darkness hidden within the light. Guide these blades of hell to the heart of my enemy. I ask for protection from Zavick, Goddess of the scorned, so that I may vanquish foes that bring shame to her name." As I finished, a sizzling noise surrounded me as I becamed invisible, cloaked in the shadows of my first ever learned ability. I grinned. Can't breathe under water? No problem! Zavick has always had my back ever since I defeated her back as a kid. She's always pulled through for me and seems to appreciate I do these things in her name.
Hell, she's the one who dubbed me 'Diabla' and affectionately claims I'm her little murderer in the blackest of hell's armor. Not that I mind. That Goddess has some big ass kahunas in all the right places and she treats me well when she summons me. Maybe a little to well.... I flushed at the memory of our last encounter. Damn that bitch is horny.
Fuck! Focus Dia!