The sun rose, tinging the pale-blue sky with orange-reds. Beatrice felt the wind playing with her hair, and thought it strange. Her braid, which once stretched to her hips, could not flutter in the breeze. But now, her mid-neck locks waved freely in the offshore gale of the Rooksbury morning. She sat with her feet over the rooftop's edge and looked out towards the city, towards the canopy of skyscrapers and the winding labyrinth of streets that engulfed her whole horizon. The city called to her with menace, as if beckoning with one hand and holding a knife in the other.
Her train of thought was interrupted by the scraping noise of the stairwell door being opened. Alex's moon-patched leather jacket waved in the wind, causing the knives stowed inside to rattle as she approached. The mercenary briefly observed Beatrice: her dangling, sun-shaped earrings, the black turtleneck and olive cargo pants she wore, and her hands, still scarred with Lichtenberg figures. She sat beside her.
"I can't keep hiding," the renegade said, breaking the silence. "I... Something has to change."
"You sure you're ready to start movin'?" Alex questioned.
"No,"
The mercenary considered saying something, considered telling her that there's no rush to move on. She decided against it. Instead, she asked:
"D'ya have any plans?"
"Employment," the renegade answered. "The mind tends to dull when one's hands remain idle."
"Ain't a bad place to start," Alex agreed. "Got a gig in mind yet?"
"None in particular. I'd... like to avoid risks, if possible," she responded. "Though, my competencies do lie mostly in combat."
After some brief consideration, the mercenary suggested:
"Could try somethin' with RUMA."
Beatrice paused, recognizing that name from her briefings. The Rooksbury University of the Material and Arcane, as she recalled it.
"The university? Meaning I'd work as a professor?"
"Shit, maybe!" Alex chirped. "You know magic, swordfightin', you're all disciplined... Could totally land a gig teachin' combat-castin'."
A smile, faint and brief, found its way to the renegade's lips. Alex had never seen Beatrice's smile before. Something about it made her smile, too.