Thread: E R R O R   <  I D E N T I T Y  > // Leviathan +  worldeater

A flurry of white blankets and sheets were violently tossed aside at the jarring thump that echoed throughout the small, two-story building. In the midst of the disarranged fabric, a young woman sat straight up in a state of alarm as if her mattress had suddenly turned into a pile of hot coals. She stood absolutely still, counting the seconds that passed with the help of the sharply ticking clock on her nightstand. Perhaps she had imagined it this time Perhaps it was nothing more than a hypnic jerk Her heartbeat quickened abruptly and outraced the passing seconds as softer sounds continued to resonate from the first floor. Obviously, the noise hadnt been a figment of her nightmares as shed first hoped. Abigail swore inwardly, trying desperately to untangle the mess of bedlinens wrapped around her legs while her hands pushed away the long mass of dirty-blonde bed-hair that had fallen across her face. Again? They were trying to pull this bullshit on her again? The lack of disturbances in the past year had convinced her that those damn thieving bastards had finally decided to leave her alone. Evidently, they werent quite finished with jacking up her anxiety and massacring her sleep schedule. She could feel the adrenaline surge through her system as she clumsily slipped off the bed and stumbled towards her dresser. Shaking hands desperately searched through folded blouses and t-shirts, tossing the clothing to the side as she reached for something hard and cold. A pistol was easy enough to get your hands on if you knew where to goit might have been old tech but it worked just as well when properly aimed. Patently, this wasnt Abigails first experience with home invaders. After her initial fall from grace three years ago, people had been breaking into her laboratory, ransacking her files, and hacking her computer systems. Even after shed moved from her uptown house near the university to this shitty back-alley neighbourhood they still managed to find her. Initially, she had been concerned that people were trying to break into her laboratory in an attempt to steal money or technology worth selling worse yet if they were a repo-gang who planned to murder her in her sleep and individually sell her body parts at the black market. The repetitive nature of the attacksand the fact that she was still breathingmade her realise that they were nothing more than pathetic attempts to steal her work and remind her that she was utterly powerless. How many times had she woken up in the middle of the night to find shady military thugs stealing her journals and tearing apart her lab? Of course, all attempts to contact the police ended in utterly futile tug-of-wars with the bureaucracy. Whoever these assholes were, they had most of the damn city under their thumb. It angered her to no end that she couldnt even put a face or a name to whatever vile facility had destroyed her livelihood. They hadnt simply taken away her single greatest achievement, they taken everything away. Her dignity, her reputation, her friends, her home... All of it in tatters. Ever since they had stolen him . The university shut down her funds and stripped her of her status, what few investors she had seemed to fade into mist, and her friends and co-workers started calling her mentally ill and delusional behind her back. With all her money gone along with her lifes work shed been forced to move into this crumbling two-story building the top floor serving as her entire living space while the first floor accommodated her office and minuscule lab. It had been a pretty steep fall from Dr. Abigail Carlisle Genius Inventor in University With a Promisingly Bright Future to Dr. Abigail Carlisle Robotic Limbs and Biotech Councillor, Have a Seat While You Wait . Yet even when she had gone from breaking scientific barriers to installing mechanical limbs and repairing broken androids, they still felt the need to scare her. It all served as a stern reminder that she was helpless, and that any attempts to change her position would swiftly be thwarted and crushed. Well, maybe so but she could still shoot whatever bastard they had sent to harass her this time around. There was a slight click of metal as she checked the guns cylinder and pushed down the hammer. Taking in a deep breath, Abigail realised that she was still in her nightclothesand as comical as a slender 53 female might seem when holding a retro-age gun, the effect was multiplied when she was wearing only a tank-top and a pair of shorts. Deciding to mind her modesty at least slightly, she quickly shrugged on her workplace lab coat and slipped past the bedroom door. Olive eyes scanned the surrounding living area cautiously, the pistol held firmly in both her hands. Her breathing was still coming out rather ragged and she bit her lip sharply to keep from swearing aloud. They hadnt managed to make their way upstairs yet, but going down the steps in the dark with a gun was going to be a challenge especially considering that her view of the lower floor would be blocked. She pressed her back against the wall beside the staircase, but just as she reached the bottom step, a screeching creak of wood below her feet unceremoniously announced her presence. Fuck... she swore aloud this time, mentally cursing her lack of carpeted stairs. Well, she certainly wouldnt be catching anyone by surprise. With her back still to the wall she braced herself, holding out the pistol at arms length and desperately scanning the surrounding darkness of her office for any signs of life.