The Renegade [OPEN]

[ceedee]

Giselle sneered at the little Moscow boy in her way. She retracted the claws in her right hand, pointed one at him, and growled a, "Move," in Russian. The boy's eyes widened upon realization of her species, but he immediately vacated the premises.

In retrospect, strutting down one of Moscow's busiest streets in broad daylight without discretion toward her werecat attributes wasn't the best of ideas, but Giselle had always been a rebellious one. She sure as hell didn't want to be here, and she warned her mother, Darla, that if she had to come, she wasn't going to make an effort to conceal her eyes or claws.

Moscow disgusted her. People in general disgusted her. Damn the Russians and their damned genetic experiments. The world didn't need a race of super-humans, they were doing just fine without werecats for centuries. Werecats were an unnecessary problem, and a growing one at that. Giselle was a werecat by default. She could have been a perfectly normal human, but no, she was a werecat. She refused to allow bad DNA to ruin her life. She was prepared to fight for her rights to live as a normal human, and if that meant risking her life so she could walk down a street, then so be it.

She looked forward to returning to Paris. Her mission here was a simple one: locate Darla's cousin and bring her back to Paris. So far Giselle was having no luck, and she already managed to get herself spite bitten, which she still wasn't completly recovered from. Luckily for her, she'd befriended another werecat who was able to pull her unconscious body underground. The said werecat friend was discreetly sweeping the other side of Moscow for her. It truly amazed her, the capacity of kinship from werecat to werecat in even the grimmest of situations.

Presently, Giselle's desire to not die in this particular city outweighed her boldness. As she stalked down the busy road, she kept an eye on the boy she revealed her identity to. He ran to an older man, presumably his father, and pointed out Giselle. The werecat appropriately spat some profanity in French and changed her direction to a side street.

She walked at a steady pace until she heard consistent bootfalls behind her. Once again, she managed to make herself a target. As soon as she fell into place amidst a crowd, she made a break for it. The claws came out involuntarily. Then there was mass hysteria, pounding bootfalls, and screams to stop.

Giselle darted through the chaos and dove into a back alley. she lurched for the fire escape on the side of the alley, climbed to the window, and peered in. No one was home. Giselle broke the glass, and slinked inside.

She raced out of the room, down the hallway, and to the stairwell. She went up to the roof, looked over the edge, and watched officers attempting to calm the crowd.

"Turn around!"

Giselle's blood went cold. Slowly, she turned with her claws behind her back to a lone officer...

[Russian Agent]

The officer raised his trembling palms, eyes squinting with the hostility he had been born to hold for this filth. It, this thing, was a mistake. And it was time for it to go back to hell. Click, snap. Shot.

[rayna]

Moscow. James what have you gotten yourself into? It is one thing to be curious, but as a cat that’s never a good thing for you now is it? It means death for you. Death and destruction. We can’t have that now can we? Shaking my head, I strolled quietly down the Russian street, not paying too much attention to anyone in particular. It was this nonchalance that made me blend so well. No one looked each other in the eye in this place, the Tsar would have no such thing. Not in his country. A quiet smirk curled my labrums at this thought.

Such patriotism, now I had truly begun to cater to the generalizations that followed someone whose voice sounded even vaguely like my own. Of course I wasn’t in the garb I usually sported – I had made adjustments following some research. The point was to blend in and that’s what I did. Frankly I was grunged down – I looked something like a bum in my opinion but appeared very much “in the now” for the current crowd. The current crowd as slightly less formal than he would have expected. Then again there was always something to stand out and catch my eye.

And there it was. A faint smirk quirked my lips at Ms. Thang who was wandering down the sidewalk, though the expression faltered as my gaze traced her progress and that of her…entourage? Was this wanted attention or was it not? Somehow I doubted that she could desire such a hard looking person to follow at such a distance. He meant business. And she had noticed that she was no longer on a safe wandering. A fellow werecat in need? Now I really was the patriot. Clearing my throat, my brows lifted as she made a break for it after disappearing in a small gathering.

Screaming, wailing, shrieking and then the inevitable parting of the Red Sea. It was evident to me now that she was in trouble, and with a sigh of almost resentment I took after them both. Having run around New Mexico in jeans, boots and a button down, a chase in tennis shoes and a tshirt was something like a joke. As she reached a dead end he continued on and I observed, watching the “enemy” enter the building from the main entrance and therefore he could probably hear her as she scrambled in a window or whatever she found. My lips formed a perfect line beneath the slight bristle of my well shaped facial hair.

Sweeping into the alleyway I jumped up to the ladder and hauled myself up after her, though my entry was somewhat more stealthy thanks to the glass already having been broken. Biting back a groan as I nearly rolled off the countertop, I slid down just in time to hear her hit the floor with a thud. Then the approaching footsteps. Gulping back what could be called fear or intellect I leapt into action, scrambling out the door, talons growing to exceptional lengths just in time for me to lunge at the man who had been fumbling with his gun in an effort to reload.

I was in contact with him just long enough to throw him off balance and then I had fallen to the side, leapt to my feet and run to scoop her slight frame into the brawn of my arms. ”Pardon the familiarity.” I whispered to her unconscious ears, at that point the agent had begun to crawl to what would be assumed his feet but I was gaining on him again, a kick aimed at his chin to which he received a grunt of a response. Smirking at the sound I thundered down the stairs and out onto the street. A strange sight. Groaning at the attention we would probably receive, I kept to the shadow as much as possible.

Where? Where was safe? A hotel? My room? That seemed farfetched but I needed to grab my plane ticket in any case. And she’d have to wake up sooner than later or we would risk brain damage. Scowling thoughtfully, I moved towards the familiar place. Entering the hotel and slipping in the elevator silently. Six long stories later I strode down the hall and shouldered open my door, locking it behind me. I had not once looked down into her features. What she looked like hardly mattered. I was impervious to romantic notions at this point. She smelled of someone else. That made her no less valuable as a fellow in my species.

Pulling back the sheet I situated her and pulled the comforter up to her chest before moving back to find a washcloth from the bathroom which I wet under the sink with warm water and proceeded to crouch by the bed and dab at her features with, my brows knit together in a troubled manner though I did not speak or bat a lash as the minutes ticked by without response.