natasha.
π§ππ°π³π¦π΄π€π¦π―π€π¦
run for your life.
fated x natasha
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Futuristic β π³πΆπ― π§π°π³ πΊπ°πΆπ³ ππͺπ§π¦.
natasha.
π§ππ°π³π¦π΄π€π¦π―π€π¦
[div class=variables]
Then again, could anyone really ever feel ready about fleeing from the government and a mandated euthanisation? Skye had prepared for this moment ever since her brother had been drafted to become an Enforcer because she was in this alone, just like everyone else. While most of her peers had kids to take care of, so their legacies could live on, Skye spent her time working on softwares and creating tools that could help her with the plan she had in mind.
Today was her birthday. Skye had been in Division 3 for twenty-three years now. There had been good times and bad, but she felt it was up to her whether she got to experience more of that, instead of letting her life come to an end when she was still so young. It was a vile rule, and completely unfair, and all Skye needed to spur her on were rumours of there being other people like her. Runaways. Rebels. As long as Skye managed to find them, she'd be okay, but from what she heard, they lived a little outside Division 7, and that was a long way from Division 3.
Luckily for her, there was no way for the Council to effectively track her, thanks to a little trick she had up her sleeve. It wouldn't keep them at bay, but it would at least buy her some time. If she got past the border, then it would make things harder for the Council and with her luck, they'd give up trying to find her. She wasn't banking on it, but she could hope, at least. She hadn't heard much news about people successfully evading a mandated euthanisation so she was guessing that they wouldn't see this as more sign of a rebellion, but they obviously knew more about things than she did so she couldn't waste time thinking about it. It was time to get on the move.
Typically, after hitting their twenty-third birthday, citizens were given an additional two days to put things in order, say their goodbyes, etc. before needing to show up at their respective Divisions's medical centre. From there, Skye didn't know the full process, but she did know that if she failed to show up within 72 hours after her birthday, an Enforcer was sent out. Skye didn't waste time. She didn't have anyone she needed to say goodbye to except her brother, but that wasn't possible because he was currently stationed in Division 6, completely unaware of her plan. She didn't have any 'friends', per se. Most of those she got friendly with as a teen had been sent to different divisions so there was nobody left for her. She was living for herself, and nobody else.
A day before she was meant to show up for the procedure, Skye left. She packed a bag with only essentials β some first aid, a spare change of clothes, some weapons she had fashioned for herself in case she needed to use it (though she may not be successful in using it) and of course, her laptop. Her lifeline. The only thing that could buy her her life, if everything reached a boiling point.
Skye spent months mapping out routes and decided that leaving during the day was her best bet. The streets were busy, people would hardly pay her any attention. It'd take her a day or so, but she'd reach the border by night the next day, which would be perfect. It'd be dark, and it'd be tricky, but she had the added benefit of not being seen as long as she didn't make too much noise.
From there... she'd have to figure it out as she went along. [/div][/div] [/div] [div class=box3] [div class=icon][/div] [div class=details][div class=scroll2] [div class=tag2]location[/div] Streets of Division 3.
[div class=tag2]mood[/div] "Time to run."
[div class=tag2]outfit[/div] Grey sweatshirt + jeans.
[div class=tag2]tags[/div]
blackout
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[div class=title]skye reznor[/div]
[div class=content][div class=scroll]
Skye didn't feel ready.
Then again, could anyone really ever feel ready about fleeing from the government and a mandated euthanisation? Skye had prepared for this moment ever since her brother had been drafted to become an Enforcer because she was in this alone, just like everyone else. While most of her peers had kids to take care of, so their legacies could live on, Skye spent her time working on softwares and creating tools that could help her with the plan she had in mind.
Today was her birthday. Skye had been in Division 3 for twenty-three years now. There had been good times and bad, but she felt it was up to her whether she got to experience more of that, instead of letting her life come to an end when she was still so young. It was a vile rule, and completely unfair, and all Skye needed to spur her on were rumours of there being other people like her. Runaways. Rebels. As long as Skye managed to find them, she'd be okay, but from what she heard, they lived a little outside Division 7, and that was a long way from Division 3.
Luckily for her, there was no way for the Council to effectively track her, thanks to a little trick she had up her sleeve. It wouldn't keep them at bay, but it would at least buy her some time. If she got past the border, then it would make things harder for the Council and with her luck, they'd give up trying to find her. She wasn't banking on it, but she could hope, at least. She hadn't heard much news about people successfully evading a mandated euthanisation so she was guessing that they wouldn't see this as more sign of a rebellion, but they obviously knew more about things than she did so she couldn't waste time thinking about it. It was time to get on the move.
Typically, after hitting their twenty-third birthday, citizens were given an additional two days to put things in order, say their goodbyes, etc. before needing to show up at their respective Divisions's medical centre. From there, Skye didn't know the full process, but she did know that if she failed to show up within 72 hours after her birthday, an Enforcer was sent out. Skye didn't waste time. She didn't have anyone she needed to say goodbye to except her brother, but that wasn't possible because he was currently stationed in Division 6, completely unaware of her plan. She didn't have any 'friends', per se. Most of those she got friendly with as a teen had been sent to different divisions so there was nobody left for her. She was living for herself, and nobody else.
A day before she was meant to show up for the procedure, Skye left. She packed a bag with only essentials β some first aid, a spare change of clothes, some weapons she had fashioned for herself in case she needed to use it (though she may not be successful in using it) and of course, her laptop. Her lifeline. The only thing that could buy her her life, if everything reached a boiling point.
Skye spent months mapping out routes and decided that leaving during the day was her best bet. The streets were busy, people would hardly pay her any attention. It'd take her a day or so, but she'd reach the border by night the next day, which would be perfect. It'd be dark, and it'd be tricky, but she had the added benefit of not being seen as long as she didn't make too much noise.
From there... she'd have to figure it out as she went along. [/div][/div] [/div] [div class=box3] [div class=icon][/div] [div class=details][div class=scroll2] [div class=tag2]location[/div] Streets of Division 3.
[div class=tag2]mood[/div] "Time to run."
[div class=tag2]outfit[/div] Grey sweatshirt + jeans.
[div class=tag2]tags[/div]
blackout
[/div][/div]
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blackout
midnight reel
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[div class=back]
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[div class=header]casper
hutchingson [/div] [div class=line][/div][div class=image][/div] [div class=flexbox] [div class=flextag][div class=tag]mood[/div] "...what?"[/div] [div class=flextag][div class=tag]location[/div] division 3's countryside.[/div] [div class=flextag][div class=tag]outfit[/div] same as always. [/div]
[div class=flextag style="width: 133px;"][div class=tag]interactions[/div] well, the goat.[/div] [div class=flextag][div class=tag]tags[/div]
natasha.
[/div]
[/div]
[/div]
[div class=bkg2]
[div class=postcontent][div class=scroll]
In every sense of the word, it was just another day.
Casper's fingers curled around the grip of his coffee mug, warmth dully radiating through the ceramic and heating his palm as he wove his way through the busybodies crowding the halls of what had become his second home. It was, in truth, far from a home, but he owed his work his life, and seeing it any other way would mean that debt being payed for him. His eyes scanned the neat rows of desks diligently as he walked, view sharpened for the familiar sight of neat blonde hair tucked into a bun. His commanding officer, Julia, had never been his favorite person, but at least she was noticeable.
The familiar sound of harsh yelling and an acrid scoff brought a knowing smirk to his lips. Cas ducked out of the current of hurrying agents, stepping into the calm section of desks upon desks. Sometimes, he entertained himself with the thought of what it would be like: sitting down all day, crossing off names on a list and knowing that each task finished was a life ended. Then again, work never waited, and Cas would do anything to make sure that the next name to be crossed off on that list wasn't his. He approached the figure, suited in a black similar to his, before tapping her shoulder gently.
The look on Julia's face as she whirled around was one of pure anger, but it quickly relaxed at the realization it was just him. She grabbed his free hand from his side and shook it briskly, Cas wincing as a fresh wave of pain rose under the bandages carefully wrapped around it. The last one he had taken had put up a fight β it was usually a 50/50 with the runaways β but unlike most of them, he'd managed to secret away a weapon before making his last trip. Without anything but a tight-lipped smile, Julia shook her head and handed him a tablet, the familiar interface of somebody's file already displayed across the smooth screen.
As his eyes scanned over it, his brows furrowed and lips quirked in confusion. It was rare that somebody as high up as whoever "Skye Reznor" was tried to avoid the inevitable β weren't they supposed to be the smart ones? β but the long list of her resume was something that couldn't bother him. What caught his eye was the pulsing tracker at the corner of the screen, flashing coordinates displayed above the small map. Cas gave Julia a nod, and with that, he put his mug down, straightened his sleeves, and left to go catch his newest prey.
The longer Cas spent trying to track down Skye, the more he realized just how odd her case was. He wouldn't have expected someone of her caliber to take such a brash risk, let alone make the poor choice that taking a countryside route was. Sure, some knew how to navigate amongst the vast nothingness, but more often than not, it just meant they were in plain sight and ripe for the picking. As his car rattled down the rough gravel roads, he pulled his briefcase tighter into his lap, one hand idly undoing the latch and pulling a small taser out from inside. Most who got this far wouldn't go down without a fight. What they said was true, after all: the scariest people were those who had nothing to lose. Thankfully, Cas was also in that category. It's a easier to deliver people to their death when it's a bargain to avoid your own.
But even that thought brought back a chilling echo: no matter how many times he told himself he didn't have anything to lose, there was one thing. Carmen. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, lips curling into a frown as he skidded to a stop and stepped out, briefcase in hand. He needed to finish this so he could go back home and help her. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward, eyes scanning over the rolling hills and rows of tall grasses. No matter how many times he went there, the countryside air was impossibly cathartic. Maybe that was why people went here when they ran β so they could steal away a shred of peace before they died. It didn't matter either way.
He waded into the grass, stopping to pull out the tablet from his briefcase. A light wind rippled through the air, the stalks waving gently around his feet and brushing loose strands of hair back from his face. The tracker pulsed as a white dot. He was close, practically on top of her. With the realization, something clicked into place inside him, a familiar feeling, a rush of adrenaline. It was the feeling of a predator about to take down their prey, and it was exhilarating. His first course of action would be silence, and he'd only engage if needed. Preferably, he could take her down quickly and quietly without having to hear the usual crying and blubbering.
Taking a sharp breath, Cas let the taser crackle to life in his palm, ducking down as he heard the soft crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs in front of him. This was it. Just another day, and just another victory in the books. He closed his eyes. Gulped. This was it.
Leaping forward, he saw a flash of movement, and he lunged. His shoulder hit her as he tackled her, sending them both to the ground. Grunting, he jabbed the taser forward, stepping back as it made contact and she started to sputter. But as he stood, looking back on his handiwork, he realized that whoever, whatever he had just tased wasn't Skye Reznor.
In all his years of being an enforcer, Casper had never tased a goat.
His hands started shaking as he realized what was happening and he grabbed the taser back, kicking away the bleating goat and cursing. Of course he should've known. He whipped the tablet back out, eyes stopping on her resume. Skye Reznor, the one and only who had designed the tracking system for Octem. It wasn't hard to believe she would've put a decoy in, and now, her time had finally come to use it.
But as Cas waded his way out of the grass, the frustration turned into determination. She was last seen by cameras at the city's edge, so he could go from there, and soon enough he'd be on her trail. He would find this girl.
He didn't have a choice. [/div][/div] [/div] [/div] [/div] [class=back] height: 520px; width: 900px; margin: auto; cursor: url('http://i.imgur.com/ZOrzC.png'), auto !important; [/class] [class=bkg] height: 520px; width: 450px; background: #f5f5f5; position: relative; left: 225px; transition: all 1s; [/class] [class=bkg2] height: 520px; width: 450px; background: #f5f5f5; position: relative; left: 450px; top: -520px; opacity: 0; transition: all 1s; transition-delay: 0.5s; [/class] [class=header] height: max-content; width: max-content; color: var(--accent); font-weight: 600; margin: auto; text-align: center; position: relative; top: 40px; text-transform: uppercase; font-family: Josefin Sans; line-height: 26px; font-size: 28px; [/class] [class=line] height: 2px; width: 60px; background: var(--accent); position: relative; top: 60px; margin: auto; [/class] [class=image] position: relative; top: 90px; height: 180px; width: 180px; border-radius: 100% 100% 100% 0%; background: var(--image); background-size: cover; margin: auto; border: 1px solid var(--accent); cursor: url('https://i.imgur.com/8akxkMH.png'), auto !important; transition: all 1s; z-index: 10; [/class] [class=flexbox] height: 130px; width: 340px; margin: auto; position: relative; top: 130px; display: flex; justify-content: space-evenly; flex-wrap: wrap; [/class] [class=flextag] height: 75px; width: 105px; font-family: Josefin Sans; color: black; font-size: 12px; font-weight: 50; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; z-index: 15; [/class] [class=tag] font-family: Josefin Sans; color: var(--accent); font-weight: 800; letter-spacing: 2px; font-size: 14px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; [/class] [class=postcontent] height: 456px; width: 396px; position: relative; top: 15px; left: 15px; border: 2px solid var(--accent); font-family: Manrope; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify; overflow: hidden; padding: 10px; color: black; [/class] [class=scroll] height: 100%; width: 104%; overflow-y: scroll; overflow-x: hidden; padding-right: 50px; [/class] [class=moveleft] position: relative; left: 0px; [/class] [class=faderight] opacity: 1; [/class] [script class=image on=click] addClass moveleft bkg addClass faderight bkg2 [/script]
hutchingson [/div] [div class=line][/div][div class=image][/div] [div class=flexbox] [div class=flextag][div class=tag]mood[/div] "...what?"[/div] [div class=flextag][div class=tag]location[/div] division 3's countryside.[/div] [div class=flextag][div class=tag]outfit[/div] same as always. [/div]
[div class=flextag style="width: 133px;"][div class=tag]interactions[/div] well, the goat.[/div] [div class=flextag][div class=tag]tags[/div]
natasha.
[/div]
[/div]
[/div]
[div class=bkg2]
[div class=postcontent][div class=scroll]
In every sense of the word, it was just another day.
Casper's fingers curled around the grip of his coffee mug, warmth dully radiating through the ceramic and heating his palm as he wove his way through the busybodies crowding the halls of what had become his second home. It was, in truth, far from a home, but he owed his work his life, and seeing it any other way would mean that debt being payed for him. His eyes scanned the neat rows of desks diligently as he walked, view sharpened for the familiar sight of neat blonde hair tucked into a bun. His commanding officer, Julia, had never been his favorite person, but at least she was noticeable.
The familiar sound of harsh yelling and an acrid scoff brought a knowing smirk to his lips. Cas ducked out of the current of hurrying agents, stepping into the calm section of desks upon desks. Sometimes, he entertained himself with the thought of what it would be like: sitting down all day, crossing off names on a list and knowing that each task finished was a life ended. Then again, work never waited, and Cas would do anything to make sure that the next name to be crossed off on that list wasn't his. He approached the figure, suited in a black similar to his, before tapping her shoulder gently.
The look on Julia's face as she whirled around was one of pure anger, but it quickly relaxed at the realization it was just him. She grabbed his free hand from his side and shook it briskly, Cas wincing as a fresh wave of pain rose under the bandages carefully wrapped around it. The last one he had taken had put up a fight β it was usually a 50/50 with the runaways β but unlike most of them, he'd managed to secret away a weapon before making his last trip. Without anything but a tight-lipped smile, Julia shook her head and handed him a tablet, the familiar interface of somebody's file already displayed across the smooth screen.
As his eyes scanned over it, his brows furrowed and lips quirked in confusion. It was rare that somebody as high up as whoever "Skye Reznor" was tried to avoid the inevitable β weren't they supposed to be the smart ones? β but the long list of her resume was something that couldn't bother him. What caught his eye was the pulsing tracker at the corner of the screen, flashing coordinates displayed above the small map. Cas gave Julia a nod, and with that, he put his mug down, straightened his sleeves, and left to go catch his newest prey.
The longer Cas spent trying to track down Skye, the more he realized just how odd her case was. He wouldn't have expected someone of her caliber to take such a brash risk, let alone make the poor choice that taking a countryside route was. Sure, some knew how to navigate amongst the vast nothingness, but more often than not, it just meant they were in plain sight and ripe for the picking. As his car rattled down the rough gravel roads, he pulled his briefcase tighter into his lap, one hand idly undoing the latch and pulling a small taser out from inside. Most who got this far wouldn't go down without a fight. What they said was true, after all: the scariest people were those who had nothing to lose. Thankfully, Cas was also in that category. It's a easier to deliver people to their death when it's a bargain to avoid your own.
But even that thought brought back a chilling echo: no matter how many times he told himself he didn't have anything to lose, there was one thing. Carmen. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, lips curling into a frown as he skidded to a stop and stepped out, briefcase in hand. He needed to finish this so he could go back home and help her. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward, eyes scanning over the rolling hills and rows of tall grasses. No matter how many times he went there, the countryside air was impossibly cathartic. Maybe that was why people went here when they ran β so they could steal away a shred of peace before they died. It didn't matter either way.
He waded into the grass, stopping to pull out the tablet from his briefcase. A light wind rippled through the air, the stalks waving gently around his feet and brushing loose strands of hair back from his face. The tracker pulsed as a white dot. He was close, practically on top of her. With the realization, something clicked into place inside him, a familiar feeling, a rush of adrenaline. It was the feeling of a predator about to take down their prey, and it was exhilarating. His first course of action would be silence, and he'd only engage if needed. Preferably, he could take her down quickly and quietly without having to hear the usual crying and blubbering.
Taking a sharp breath, Cas let the taser crackle to life in his palm, ducking down as he heard the soft crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs in front of him. This was it. Just another day, and just another victory in the books. He closed his eyes. Gulped. This was it.
Leaping forward, he saw a flash of movement, and he lunged. His shoulder hit her as he tackled her, sending them both to the ground. Grunting, he jabbed the taser forward, stepping back as it made contact and she started to sputter. But as he stood, looking back on his handiwork, he realized that whoever, whatever he had just tased wasn't Skye Reznor.
In all his years of being an enforcer, Casper had never tased a goat.
His hands started shaking as he realized what was happening and he grabbed the taser back, kicking away the bleating goat and cursing. Of course he should've known. He whipped the tablet back out, eyes stopping on her resume. Skye Reznor, the one and only who had designed the tracking system for Octem. It wasn't hard to believe she would've put a decoy in, and now, her time had finally come to use it.
But as Cas waded his way out of the grass, the frustration turned into determination. She was last seen by cameras at the city's edge, so he could go from there, and soon enough he'd be on her trail. He would find this girl.
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