So, where was I? Oh yeah, Miranda. It didn't turn out well. Like I knew it wouldn't. We made it to [city]. I was finally tracking a group that could take her in, but things went south, fast.
We were in a hideout I found, when something felt wrong. You know that sinking feeling you feel right before everything goes to hell?
I pulled my revolver out, just in time for a figure in the shadows to strike my arm. The gun went flying. I backed toward the light, where Miranda was still asleep. That's when I saw her, S.
She stepped into the light.
"[S], is that really you?" I asked as I stepped toward her. Next thing I know, there's a knife in my gut. I looked into her eyes, expecting to see hatred, or sadness, or...anything. All I saw was nothing. No emotion at all. She ripped the knife out and pushed me. I was in shock, I didn't move as she ran over, grabbed Miranda, and held the knife to her throat.
I was wandering around, tracking down leads, when I came across a familiar voice. It was the girl from before--in an alleyway--with two men. She definitely was in distress, from her screaming. I intervened, can't just walk away, I guess.
The one guy was large, one of the biggest I've seen. Distracted them, they came at me, so I did my best to play against their weaknesses. Small guy had a gun, when he tried shooting, I grabbed big guy, threw him off balance to make him act as a shield. It worked. Little guy ran off as big guy was draining blood and Azoth.
That stuff still makes me uncomfortable, even after all this time. Anyway, as he was dying, I leaned down and asked his name. No one deserves to die alone. He told me his name was Gnome. When he was truly gone, I said that I hope he finds rest, and I added his name to my list of those who've died.
It's another year of this. Another year of this...existence. I just wander. See the sights. Live. Or whatever it is. Those words always in the back of my mind.
Ran into a new runner a couple weeks back. She was young. Stumbled across her in NYC. She was scared and alone.
Said she was new to it all, that her family was all dead, and that she hasn't seen any friendly faces.
"Why don't I tag along with you?" She asks
"Because I'll just get you killed, kid."
"How? Having someone watch your back is a good thing. Especially another runner." - her
"That's where you're wrong."
"Yeah. I'm no runner. I'm not a runner. I'm not a servant. I'm just a man on his own. An immortal man. One who will paint a target so big on your back that you might not survive the week. There are parts of this world I avoid now, to keep the people I care about far away. I don't want to be the cause of their suff…