Post by Magda on Nov 3, 2011 18:48:26 GMT -5
At the farthest side of the beach where Luirenstrand Bay reached the ocean, a jutting strip of land rose well above the water and formed a steep cliff upon which was a lighthouse. This was Sangue Point. Magda liked this spot. It offered a panoramic view over all of downtown New York and a little of the Angel lands on the other side to the east, but she also had bitter memories of this place. Of throwing the corpses of Black Omega soldiers down onto the jagged rocks below, where, it was rumoured, a young woman had supposedly thrown herself off the cliff into the ocean. Magda ignored the old legends, even though they may well be true, because this place was valuable as a lookout point. And for someone whose entire life revolved around watching and waiting, keeping a wary eye on that ever-dangerous horizon, places like this made her life a lot easier.
Magda leaned against the decrepit railings that had been erected in an attempt to stop more people from throwing themselves off the cliff, and tipped her head back to stare at the velvety night sky above. Without light pollution, the stars were bright and plentiful, and the cool sea breeze ruffled her mane of raven hair. She smiled serenely, breathing in, then out. The wind worked its way up her leather sleeves and beneath the neckline of an oversized men’s sweater that concealed the preposterous number of knives she had hidden about her person.
She tipped her head back, turned to look out at the ocean. Her hair whipped around her face and ribbons of ebony licked at her ivory cheeks. Her emerald eyes bled gold and retreated to green again as the wolf stirred comfortably beneath her layers of wool, denim and leather. The animal prowled, the predator lurked, the genius smiled and knew that very soon the Angels would have hell on their doorstep and they wouldn’t know what hit them. She had everything planned out, she just had fine details to discuss and people to see.
A few teams to assemble.
Magda chewed her lip, frowned.
And a set of wireless throat mic radios to find.
Christ, this could take a while.
Magda leaned against the decrepit railings that had been erected in an attempt to stop more people from throwing themselves off the cliff, and tipped her head back to stare at the velvety night sky above. Without light pollution, the stars were bright and plentiful, and the cool sea breeze ruffled her mane of raven hair. She smiled serenely, breathing in, then out. The wind worked its way up her leather sleeves and beneath the neckline of an oversized men’s sweater that concealed the preposterous number of knives she had hidden about her person.
She tipped her head back, turned to look out at the ocean. Her hair whipped around her face and ribbons of ebony licked at her ivory cheeks. Her emerald eyes bled gold and retreated to green again as the wolf stirred comfortably beneath her layers of wool, denim and leather. The animal prowled, the predator lurked, the genius smiled and knew that very soon the Angels would have hell on their doorstep and they wouldn’t know what hit them. She had everything planned out, she just had fine details to discuss and people to see.
A few teams to assemble.
Magda chewed her lip, frowned.
And a set of wireless throat mic radios to find.
Christ, this could take a while.