So Many Times

so many times …

She’s used to running far distances, often trying to find a perfect position to take aim. The memory of running through the woods constantly practicing, or to save distance and time before a wind flare consumed the whole of the woods. This was just another memory of when she had to run. She surmises this will happen again should she be careless again.

She keeps her pace, continuing to shoot warning shots whizzing by their ears and legs and eventually she has enough distance where she can lose them

She skids on the side of the rooftop sliding down through the debris onto the ground of the ruins. She looks back and forth, trying to reclaim her air, before pushing a button on the side of her mask, causing air to hiss as she pulls it back revealing her face. With an all-black cybernetic hair, she musses her black and white hair to allow it to fall free down her face. 

She inspects the ruins before checking the contents in her bag before she glances over at her shoulder, blue-ringed black eyes glaring as she slowly pulls her rifle out, holding it, but ready to fire if given a chance.

In the Field of Paper Flowers

Listening to Post Malone’s new album like...

XNot my gifsX

Most of the time, as a model, I feel like I’m just a doll. They control how I should move.