((Woot acceptedness. The following is meh))

I walked into the empty room. It wasn't empty, of course. One had to learn that in this world, rooms were never empty. I looked at the flowers,  white lilies, with fake plastic dew. So metaphorical. It was obscene, what these people were doing with the art of the spy. I stepped out the door, took out my gun, a Colt, of course,(Glocks are nice, but you gotta buy American) and shot the vase.  The fat wad of metal cracked the air and the vase disappeared, either because of the shot or because of the small explosion that followed, destroying all evidence of any bug that may or may not have been there. It had been a good vase, too. Someone was trying to kill me and my source, but not before gathering information. And it was a former Riner. The flower arrangement proved that. 

 The source was a jittery man when he came in(They all are, it seems), perhaps because half the room was gone and everything covered with the fine ash of C4. He had a small white handkerchief that he used for everything, from opening doorknobs to wiping the sweat off his face, and he tried using that to clean it up. It didn't work. I (Or Operative 147, as they called me) took the information,mostly worthless, but that wasn't up to me to decide, offered the obligatory thanks and bad coffee, and left, promptly. Catching the plane(private, sure, but not beautiful, early to Las Vegas from the closest airport, I had nothing to worry about except how in fact those blind fools had tracked him to an empty old hotel in an obscure Oregon town. I didn't want war, but if they kept accepting countermissions, nothing would stop it. I did not sleep well that night.

((Flower arrangments prove that people are from Innarine? ilu so much, Mecha. :'D

*works on her post* o 3o ))

Name; Erela Kibbe [Ere, Rela]

Age; 15 

School; Hawthorne High

Gender; Female

Appearance;

xXx

Personality; Erela is sweet and a generally all-around nice girl. She dislikes disappointing people, and as long as you’re kind to her she would be the kind of constant friend that would never be disloyal to you, unless you broke the rules or something. She’s not shy and she loves laughing, so no one ever has trouble making friends with her. 

Family/History; Blah blah blah sob story etc. ^o^

Other; NO :c

((D8 Like. Poor. Det. Omg.

Because I trust Det, I'll accept even if you didn't Rmail. o__o)) 

Corainder Faye

"Tell me, where are we going?"

Corainder's glare was fixed on the back of the driver's seat, as if she was trying to burn a hole through it.

"I said, where are we going?" She asked again, in an irritated tone.

The driver continued to further ignore the girl, so she just slumped back down in the back seat and stared out the window of the desert.

"Welcome to hell, Corainder." She muttered to herself. "Where little girls get kidnapped and driven into the desert to die of dehydration. Either that or to work as slaves."

As she rambled on about her misfortune, her eyes fell upon a small figure in the distance, and she peered out of the tinted black glas.s. As the small car neared the mansion, her heart almost skipped a beat.

"Seriously, a mansion in the middle of the desert?" Corainder asked the driver in a sarcastic tone.

"Yes," the driver finally spoke. "we're in Death's Valley. You'll be living here from now on." He signaled towards the structure. "Hawthorne High. Parents are permitted to take you back to your dwelling every year for two months when clas.ses are dismissed, if you would like. Otherwise, you would have to stay in our dormitories."

Corainder stared at him for the next six minutes.

"Okay, you don't just barge into my house, throw me in some weird car, drive me off to some kind of high school in the middle of the desert, and expect me to live there for the next few years! It doesn't work like that!" Corainder nearly yelled at him.

The driver just sighed, said, "We'll see about that," and turned on his heel, striding through the tall bras.s gates, knowing that Corainder would have no choice but to follow him inside.

And indeed she did.

((x3 Lol. I made a little avatar thing on Tektek, because I was too lazy to do freeform. Ask Lathie why I'm so freaked and tired right now, if you want to know. D:<))

xXx

Erela kicked the seat in front of her with a murderous scowl on her face. Gone was the sweet, generous and helpful little girl who did what she was told, usually. Now she was angry, very angry.

Ere, murmured the little voice in her head slyly, kicking the man driving you to your certain doom will not help you.

Pssh, was all Erela thought disdainfully, but she quit her kicking. Maybe she could just memorize her route...or something.

Smoothing down her black silk Qipao, she checked her appearance carefully. Her hair seemed fine, she tought as she looked in the mirror that was set into the chair before her. No make-up, as usual, and her clothing was as non-wrinkled as she could get it under these circumstances. 

The black dragon tattoo on her arm was a different story. Thanks to the man grabbing her, and her quick kick to his stomach, her left arm held an interesting variety of cuts and lacerations. What bothered her the most, however. The sinuous body of the dragon was now marred by a gash about 2 or 3 inches long.

Great, she thought sullenly, crossing her arms.

--A little while later--

Erela glanced out the window and sighed at the scenery. Just plain desert with some rock in the distance.

It is too oddly shaped to be a rock. Too...square. Or could it be...

She gasped as the black sedan neared the strange formation, pressing her pale white fingers to the immaculate window. It was a mansion...of some sort. 

((Well, you're the only one here who knows! D:<

Yus, Coar is meant to be a rude, lovable little fifteen-year-old. xD

Yay Det. <3))