rename and cleanup later

[22:56] F-01-57: Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
A gloved index finger rhythmically beating against a bandaged forearm produced the sole noise in the cramped containment room. Slow, lingering, the mere beginnings of impatience stewing in the pit of the young woman's stomach. Hurried footsteps bustled by outside, but she remained still, supporting her weight against the back wall with her head pointed towards the floor.
Tap tap tap tap tap.
Her pace quickened. Something was going on out there. She was sure of it. Pistol shots, swords cutting the air, the sound of bells and wind chimes, the sound of someone vomiting and roots growing out rapidly... and then, after a clamor of footsteps, Silence. The young woman remained in her spot, tapping the crook of her elbow and refusing to budge from her pose of cool resignation, but her golden eye was now fixated levelly at the door, as if expecting the offending creature to come bursting through any moment. Moments passed. Nothing came through. A few more... and...
Now.
The door beeped frantically to signal its unlock, a small detail Little Red could hardly process as she shot through like a bullet and drew her gun from its weathered holster. No sooner did her outstretched arm pass through the door did she start blasting blindly, pumping the limp bodies of the few living clerks with lead while those who succumbed to the flowers spilling from their lips stood rigid and still. No time to worry about it. Keep moving. Keep shooting. Not once did her finger lift from the trigger as she moved through the halls, smattering their surfaces with fresh sprays of blood & gray matter while she moved forward to her target. That ceramic abomination was out, and so were a couple hungry hungry bastards she hardly looked forward to suppressing. Mercifully, she only had to move up one floor to come face to face with the pink thing, its black eyes staring blankly back at her as she chipped off bits and pieces. Flowers, pottery shrapnel, bits of its cloth hat--a few grunts of pain came out from behind the damn thing as her bullets pierced through its fragile body and embedded themselves in the vest of whoever was wailing at its backside, but a huntress cares little about casualties. She only keeps her eyes on the target. She only focuses on raising her scythe to cut it off for good, delivering one last bullet as she approaches, and... damn it! Teleported away. The employees she'd been pumping full of bullets had fled. She only had one thing to do. It had gone up to the hallway above Information, judging by the ringing of those infernal bells. Just cross through the back way of Central, dart across the lift room, barrel through the doors... and... huh?
     For the first time since she had arrived, Little Red skidded to a halt, scrambling to regain her balance among her momentum, and fixated her eyes on the dark. Eyes. She was almost certain that, in the flash of her gun as she fired it instinctively down the hall, she saw a pair of amber eyes staring right back. While her mask concealed the bulk of it, a scowl crossed her face and her target immediately switched. The guys with those big meat swords could handle the llama. This was far more important, as evidenced by the way she used her rasping voice for the first time in weeks, demanding one simple answer out of the stranger with her scythe drawn and raised above her head, ready to come down at the slightest provocation. "Who the hell are you?"
[22:56] F-01-57: (( Wew sorry about that I really am rusty it should -not- have taken that long ))
[22:57] Neos ilios tis Romis: (a gigant wall of text?! i like this!)
[22:57] Neos ilios tis Romis: (relax, i am really like all this!
[23:11] Neos ilios tis Romis: (man, if your rust, then i am just made of scraps)
[23:12] Neos ilios tis Romis: From the end of the hallway, slowly crawling from one of the very vents that plagued this rotten facility, used to vent the smell of death and blood that floated, a tall, towering man made it's way out, a long mane of pure silver hair, that would normally remained anyone who saw him to the guardian angel of this cursed place, a pair of amber eyes just as her stared with pure hate in to the red hunting girl, as it slowly presented itself in the hallway showing how he was dressed, wearing what is just your average new employee suit, but much more ragged, showing it's use and by how it hardly fit in his body, it's age, but the more distinct feature was a tattered strip on his arm, wearing a letter that no other sephira used.
As he heard the question from little red the only response he could give her was a small grunt before, before a fully fledge war cry as it rushed towards the huntress, not wanting to let her have a single second to retaliate, as he knew, lacking any powerful gear would make his fight hard, but far from impossible after all, at this point he had turned in to a hunter himself since living on this cursed place for so long would do that to any man, avoiding the bodies on his way he pulled what could only be describe as a knife made of pure scrap, and immediately attempted to stab the huntress in the neck

[Notes] F-01-57:"Woah-ho! Not the talking type, huh?" With the practiced movements of a girl whose entire livelihood hinged on her ability to slaughter an eight-foot tall wolf, she managed to dodge to the side, but the narrow hallway sent her skittering to create some distance, from which she fired off a couple shots and hurriedly returned her scythe to its makeshift leather sheathe. Beneath the mask, a manic grin split her face and her tongue flickered across her mangled mouth while she watched smoke curl languidly from the barrel. She should have known better than to take time for theatrics, though, given the sting against the side of her bandaged throat and the freshly tattered hole in her beloved cape signaled that he managed to graze her, if not more. A touch to the site of the wound brought back results she more than expected: a smattering of bright, sticky blood against her gloves, picked up from where it had soaked through her turtleneck. Enough to make her back off a bit as she offered another taunt muffled by her mask. "Good. Because neither am I."

Bang! Bang! A couple more shots from her blunderbusses, whose bottomless ammo she didn't take the time to question. Her tremulous hands struggled to hold the veritable goddamn cannons aloft, but the bleeding scratch had nothing on what had already been done, the mangled meaty mess lurking beneath the long shadows cast by her hood. Bang bang! With each pair of shots, she darted forward another fair distance, her gaze straying tellingly towards the handle of her compact scythe. Bang bang! Missed bullets ricocheted off the walls and clattered against the displaced vent grate still sitting on the floor where he had emerged. Despite her prior claim, Red couldn't hold her tongue as she moved in close again, a gap of about two feet standing between them. She resumed her earlier position, legs spread, guns smoking and poised to send another shot echoing throughout the facility. "It's not like I'm exactly on speaking terms with any of the people here, so you can just spit it out already."