The sky was burning with orange hues as the day started to reach its end and the streets started to bustle with life. That was Lyza's queue to dip the hell out and head home. Through a few alleyways she weaved herself through, knowing full well how to navigate the back alleys and roads of her home town. It was nothing impressive, just knowledge she had picked up from having been born and lived here for so long. Her general disdain for the callous crowds and insensitive people got her searching pretty early on for ways to make it home without dealing with the hordes of post-work rushes. That did, however, mean that on occasion she would find herself in rather unsavory positions. Today though? Today seemed like a good day.
Almost.
As usual, Lyza was dressed in just a tank top, jeans, and boots. Nothing special, just enough to keep her comfy while looking at least presentable enough to show up to work. No more, no less. On her person was just the essentials, her wallet (purses were a pain to lug around) and the clothes on her back. Today was just supposed to be an easy day hauling cargo and unloading boats, but it appeared that random chance had a completely different intention.
With her hands in her pockets Lyza casually strolled through the backstreets, on edge in case of any troublemakers. Her magic, while unimpressive, would definitely help her out in any sticky situations. At least, that was the point. It seemed she wouldn't need it though, as she was just a few corner turns away from ending up on the main road that her apartment was on, and-
*SNAP*
Lyza's stomach churned and every hair on her body stood up straight in warning before she even had a chance to see the horrid scene that was playing out in front of her. A woman, dressed in a maid outfit, had her hair wrapped around a man's neck in what she only assumed was a sort of chokehold. And the crackling pop that she had heard earlier... was the snapping of bones.
Never once in her life had she heard that noise before, but just looking at the sight of a man's lifeless body being dropped to the ground was all that she needed to know what was going on. But what would she do about it? Seconds passed and all that the poor snowy haired girl could do was stand and stare, her expression not changing much from its usual blankness asides from a new level of intensity and a bead of sweat gently rolling down her forehead. Should she fight? That was what mages were supposed to do in this situation? She was a mage, she had magic that could let her fight, and she was certainly versed in the art of streetfighting. Maybe, just maybe...
Yet her body still forced her to take a step back, as if it was reminding her of the fear that her heart was pumping through her body. Two sides, conflicted and unable to agree, kept her rooted in place. But the sound of a rock scraping against the pavement below her made everything that much more complicated. Her taking a step back had kicked it, and now the murderer knew she was here before her mind and body could find something to agree on, and far before the paralysis faded and she had the power to make a move consciously.
Almost.
As usual, Lyza was dressed in just a tank top, jeans, and boots. Nothing special, just enough to keep her comfy while looking at least presentable enough to show up to work. No more, no less. On her person was just the essentials, her wallet (purses were a pain to lug around) and the clothes on her back. Today was just supposed to be an easy day hauling cargo and unloading boats, but it appeared that random chance had a completely different intention.
With her hands in her pockets Lyza casually strolled through the backstreets, on edge in case of any troublemakers. Her magic, while unimpressive, would definitely help her out in any sticky situations. At least, that was the point. It seemed she wouldn't need it though, as she was just a few corner turns away from ending up on the main road that her apartment was on, and-
*SNAP*
Lyza's stomach churned and every hair on her body stood up straight in warning before she even had a chance to see the horrid scene that was playing out in front of her. A woman, dressed in a maid outfit, had her hair wrapped around a man's neck in what she only assumed was a sort of chokehold. And the crackling pop that she had heard earlier... was the snapping of bones.
Never once in her life had she heard that noise before, but just looking at the sight of a man's lifeless body being dropped to the ground was all that she needed to know what was going on. But what would she do about it? Seconds passed and all that the poor snowy haired girl could do was stand and stare, her expression not changing much from its usual blankness asides from a new level of intensity and a bead of sweat gently rolling down her forehead. Should she fight? That was what mages were supposed to do in this situation? She was a mage, she had magic that could let her fight, and she was certainly versed in the art of streetfighting. Maybe, just maybe...
Yet her body still forced her to take a step back, as if it was reminding her of the fear that her heart was pumping through her body. Two sides, conflicted and unable to agree, kept her rooted in place. But the sound of a rock scraping against the pavement below her made everything that much more complicated. Her taking a step back had kicked it, and now the murderer knew she was here before her mind and body could find something to agree on, and far before the paralysis faded and she had the power to make a move consciously.