did you get insurance with that? [grant]

MARLOWE

I. Was. Dead.

"You managed to bump into someone walking slower than a grandmother... You tell me what I did." He starts before the features of his face change, shrugging his shoulders as he picks up the blame. My eyes narrow in suspicion at the quick change in demeanour, I took it to be a shady reaction, one that sent my senses into overdrive, my back starting to sweat nervously. What if he was a nark? What if he was one of those pathetic fools who ran to the peacekeepers with anything that seemed slightly out of the ordinary?

I couldn't get arrested.

I'd heard the stories, the rumours that had circulated about the cruel treatment by peacekeepers. By the experiments and torment inflicted in the detention center.

- "But you should watch where you're going."

Anger quickly evaporated the nerves, my eyes flashing dangerously as I turn on him once again, lips pulled back into a snarl. "You should watch you're going!" It was petty, a childish attack that left me feeling agitated and slightly embarrassed. But my nerves and agitation had got the better of me. Teeth snagging my bottom lip as I stare at the box that was crumpled on the ground. The buyer was going to kill me, they were going to track me down at skin the flesh from my bones.

Okay, calm down Marlowe, its okay, we can figure this out. Silently I make my plan, I needed to change my name. Find a new home. I still had a few contacts that owed me- "What even is... or was that?"

"None of your damn business," I snap, eyes snapping from the package to the boys. The ladies at the orphanage had always said that I was a feisty bitch. In fact, I was almost certain that was why I had no friends. That and I preferred my own company. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to lose the fiery edge. After all he had been right. It had been my fault.

"It's none of your concern, kid." Picking up the parcel I hear the movement of shattered glass. "It's better for you if you don't know." I pull the hood of my jacket further over my head, hoping to hide some of the more prominent features of my face.

MARLOWE

As I hold the box under the crook of my arm I beg Ripred that none of the contents leaks onto any exposed flesh. I had done the research before daring to find the items that the buyer had requested. I knew that some of the poisons contained in the tiny glass jars could kill a fully grown many almost instantly- let alone a smaller, leaner woman such as myself.

Poisons such as these were almost impossible to get my hands on, but the buyer had promised an amount of cash that I could not refuse, enough to keep me a foot for at least the next couple years. Cautiously my eyes travel down to the box, I had to get rid of it. Now. I had to dispose of it and disappear into the night, lay low for a while until the backlash of my failure calms down. My reputation will take a hit.

My income will become close to nothing.

I was screwed.

"Here, at least let me help." He holds out his arms eagerly, ready to take the parcel and for a moment I consider passing it into his hands. It was like he was a fisherman, dangling his hook with a nice piece of meaty bait, and I was very close to biting. It could be the solution I was looking for. Pass him the goods and bolt, leaving him to have to explain himself to a passing peacekeeper. Or to unfortunately be found the next morning dead, the package only an arms length away.

"I'm not a peacekeeper, I have a brain. I can probably help fix it."

Hand it to him.

Give it to him.

Then run.

For a moment I just stare at him, my eyes darting for his extended hands, then to his face, his eyes, then back to his hands.

I couldn't do it to him.

Sighing I turn away from him slightly, looking over my should my eyes catch sight of a trashcan. Maybe I wasn't the heartless bitch I liked to pretend to be.

"Trust me, you can't fix it. They are broken and need to be discarded immediately." Where was I supposed to go now, though? What if the buyer was able to track me? to find out where I lived? who I knew? Surely he had the means, he was loaded and had the right motivation. "Maybe you could help me, still..." I think aloud, trying to formulate a plan. "I need a place to crash," I say finally, maybe I was being too forward. But I would prefer to be forward, than dead.