Thread: Forsaken

As the Greyhound bus approached the depot, Lydia's amber colored eyes blinked several times after the squeak of the brakes brought her back to reality. Even in the rapidly moving coffin that was the musty bus she judged it unwise to try to catch a bit of sleep, no matter how much her aching body protested that it was a fantastic idea. It was a simple matter for an assassin to board the bus behind her and simply wait her out until she was at her most vulnerable and cleanly complete his task before slipping off into the night. Besides, even in the best case scenario the escape paths were deemed by her suspicious eyes to be lackluster at best. So here she was, she thought with a small sigh, at the tail end of another 12 hour sleepless journey. She didn't know who was after her, only that there were certainly people trailing her. She knew vaguely what they wanted while doing her best not to think about some of the specifics. When failure wasn't an option and there was no one you could trust your home tended to become buses and trains. Snatching up her messenger bag Lydia slid into the line inching towards the doorway. Her 5'6 kept her below the eye level of most people in the crowd luckily, together with her nondescript blue jeans and purple hoodie meant that she could blend pretty much unnoticed into a pack. The werewolves can keep their strength, she thought with a smirk, sometimes the best way to win a fight is for there never to be one. The moment her sneaker hit the pavement she sidestepped cleanly to the left and around the front of the bus. Taking a pause to get her bearings, her eyes scanned the crowds milling about the bus depot for the misplaced glance that would let herself know that someone recognized her. And in New York City there was a dreadful lack of pleasurable reasons for anyone to catch the slightest bit of her true identity. Just a random girl on a random bus heading towards a random destination. Nothing to see here and definitely no reason to look any closer. It was her mantra, on repeat inside her head for most of the trip here and the countless journeys before it. It was along the lines of 'Repeat a lie enough times and it becomes truth.', but hey, silver linings needed to be grabbed whenever they became available. If anything it didn't hurt and gave her the idea that she was actively helping herself along in her travels. Much like those silver linings, hope was a thing best grabbed where Lydia could find it. But something else grabbed her immediately, not a Warlock or a creature of the night this time, but an equally dangerous and inescapable New York hot dog cart. Throwing caution to the wind in the wake of the rumblings from her belly she was across the parking lot in a hurry with her dollar already in hand before she could rethink what havoc a chili cheese dog would wreak on her empty stomach. The first gooey bite elicited a small moan of pleasure as her chipped black painted fingernails collected a stray bit of processed cheese from the corner of her lips. Lydia was midway towards tearing into her next bite when the familiar tingle at the back of her mind caused her to freeze rock solid. With a loud exhale she forced herself to relax, and after a moment to collect herself she took a casual glance at the mid-morning crowds moving around her. Letting her intution guide her, her amber eyes settled on a figure across the street, an otherwise non suspect looking man who rather suspiciously looked away immediately when he realized he was being watched. Crap crap crap she muttered to herself, taking a last bite before slipping the uneaten half in the nearest trash can. Someone tailed her halfway across the country, probably another passenger on the bus. Gods, it sucks being right all the time she mumbled to herself as she caught the pace of the people walking down the sidewalk and attempted to blend in. She had seen one, but how many more did she miss?