Thread: The Fate of the world is in our hands (Max and I)

Patrols were in hot pursuit as the Vagabond made his way through the streets and crowd. People were shoved out of the way, many soon learning to make way if they wanted to keep their hands on their current wares or Shells. Stop the thief! Came one of the patrolmen's voice, which only seemed to startle much of the crowd. What startled people even more, even the patrol groups giving chase, was the fact that a woman zoomed past them and made her own way to the Vagabond. Even he knew that a particular pursuer was catching up to him, and considering his latest score, he wasn't in the mood for returning things. It was time to lose these clowns and make off with the revolver. The cloaked man made a hard left, leaping over a cart that barely blocked the alley way that he ducked under. But there were many obstacles in this alley with several people lining up against the wall. He seemed to change tactics now, slipping past the people, sometimes with just a hair's width away. It appeared to help him weave faster through the alley. In addition, he had an almost cat like grace as he leapt over or slid underneath carts and crates, still maintaining a fine amount of momentum that he could easily continue his sprint. And yet he barely broke a sweat, just a slight pant escaping the tall, hooded figure until he turned a corner to reach a dead end. Shit. His voice sounded rather smooth and soft, considering his predicament. However, tight situations like this were hardly a thing the Vagabond struggled with. So in a rather acrobatic display, he leapt up on to a high windowsill and made his way up, starting to wall bounce until he climbed on top of the roof to continue the chase there. Lucia would find a ladder against one of the walls, propped up against the wall and leading up to the roof. Upon the rooftops, some rather small, demonic or mutated birds flew up into the air, their gatherings disturbed by the Vagabond as he jumped from building to building. There came a particular large jump that forced him to land and roll since he launched his body forward. This, in turn, caused the ornate revolver to go flying out of his grip and sliding across the rooftop, something that earned another curse from the Vagabond. He easily retrieved it, but it cost him valuable time, and no doubt Lucia could take advantage of that. He couldn't dwell on the opportunity given to this woman that seemed persistent in catching him. So he willed his legs as fast and as far as they could travel and move. Though such a wish came to an end when the chase came to a slight pause upon a lone building rooftop. Even with his expertise in flight compared to fight in that equation, the man couldn't make that jump across the pathway even if he wanted to. Coming to the edge, the Vagabond peered over to look down at the street. No patrols down there, that was the plus side. The downside of this option was that jumping down there would probably hurt. A lot. In fact, he'd probably break a rib if he landed incorrectly. And Gods, did that hurt like a bitch. Turning to peer at the woman who chased him, along with some patrol guards several buildings behind, the Vagabond had a decision to make. Another peer over the side, and he did see small stall directly beneath him, covered by a cloth awning. It'd absorb his fall somewhat, but he still couldn't guarantee a soft landing at all. Still, something told him that dealing with this woman instead of the guards sounded like a bad idea. So, he played the cards he was dealt. Without a quick sigh, the Vagabond tossed himself over the edge to the stall below. Everyone would hear a loud snap and crash as the stall fell apart to the impact, destroying the wood and pillars holding the awning. They were weak and brittle, providing less for the thief, so his landing ended up hurting a bit more than he would have liked. It knocked the wind out of him too for a moment, so the Vagabond laid there for a brief second, coughing and gasping for air. He clutched his back as well, feeling pain surge through him for a moment as he rolled over on to his front, a fit of coughs kicking up the dirt off the ground. A pained groan left him as he managed to get on his feet, but anyone could see that he moved slower now, attempting to catch his breath. Even the jog he broke into seemed somewhat pained. He forced himself to stumble into another alley way, leaning against the wall as he clutched his side. The man had a feeling that he had bruised a rib, and he'd probably want to soothe that pain as quickly as possible lest future jobs be hindered by it. The Vagabond had lost his way though, still needing some time to learn the in's and out's of the Metro, a city who's streets seemed like a maze if one was not careful. His path earlier was his backup route, and it failed him. Now he was flying blind, and he didn't like that one bit. Plans were made for a reason, and it seemed that this one had come undone at the seams very quickly. Not to mention that he was a sitting duck out here. The guards were asking about him, and that meant he couldn't leave the cloak. It had to stay on. But they already had a good look of him in a cloak. They knew who they were looking for, both masked and unmasked. Great, just great. He groaned, quickly turning a corner and looking back down the way he came. That woman's gonna be on me any minute, and now I'm slower. This day could not get any better...