Harvy

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LifeAsALittleSister

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The young woman jumped from one building onto another. It was an unbearably cold rainy night and she knew that she was running out of time.
Life was becoming tough and the young Miya McAllen needed to do anything she could to survive in this harsh city.
Wearing a purple hoodie and some black rain boots, along with jeans of course she saw what layed ahead of her. This was another jump from one building to another, farther than what she was trained to do.
To her, there was no way out of this, her job needed to get done.
She took a deep breath and backed up, getting ready for the leap.
Within what felt like an instant, she jumped and reached her hands out for the ledge. She felt a yank on her arms-she had made it....barley. Her fingers were clenching onto the wet cement, desperately trying not to slip off, if it did, it would be sending the young girl to her death.
Usually she would steal things from convenient stores just to get by leaving no evidence behind. This time though it was different, she decided that she was tired of living the street life. She wanted to get some money, just enough to get away from this miserable city. With that in her mind she was determined to either go big or go home.
 
Today was probably the most productive day of Alec Emel's life.

I'll date this day with the ranking of 1,760.
Alec Emel was a man who would write page upon page when he was alone.

Since he first had believed he aced that interview, was able to retract and have a thick reflection on many things having to do with a new acquaintance with details.. So many details. Even on the thinnest strand sticking out of place in the interviewer's hair to the slightly scratched tip of her classic pumps. He wasn't a writer who wrote to have it published... Not even any type of story. It was a thick outline of all the people he's met and himself. Close to everything he could think about others and himself. He's come up with a large amount of specific things, either it be, what he assumed, was opinion or fact. It wove thin strands that broke in half, and their halves broken in half. An endless cycle of 'what if' and 'or' woven those strands until they actually were broken.

No one has ever graced their eye across the now six inched binders of his. Of his life, or each and every individual day. If people were to know about it, they could have called it a diary, but no. It was eerie. Ominous. It gave off bad vibes and gave Alec bad vibes. Truth is. Alec loves to record each and every day, and each and every one. He wants to know everything about them so they can be entered into his 'journal'. So he can read so much about them and only them. Oh, did these binders have given his the deadliest sense of superiority. If others can over come it or not, well, that's up to them. It was almost scary who good the male could write about you, to know about you, to fiddle into the wrongest of places with out even having to bother you about it.

Our flame haired writer was now on the decrepit and slimy roof of his job at a rather large tattoo parlor. He loved this job, unlike some others he had. It was his turn to lock up, and he has, but was just too lazy to go home just yet... He decided to do some roof top writing about his day. The first sign of a droplet of water had made him scurry for his plastic back pack, shoving in his material without hesitating the slightest. He has already spun on his heel to go, the now wet cement making the most peculiar noise underneath his boots. He had heard something, and he was positively sure he wasn't hallucinating. Looking over his back, he made out the fair outline of straining hands, digging it's nails into the rotten rust and meat of the side of the parlor. Not sure what to even think of the situation, Alec nonchalantly walked over as if the other wasn't in danger of slipping, and peeked at the young woman. All he did was bore his ocean teal eyes into hers, cold droplets flickering down the sides of his face and down his frame-less glasses.

(ooc: sorry for the occasional typo and such, I got so lazy trying to proof-read it! xI)
 
((You know what, it's okay because your a wonderful writer and person))

The young woman fell and at the last minute, grabbed the railing of some stairs leading up to the rooftop. Her firey red eyes staring back at him for a moment before she slipped. She finally reached the rooftop once again and stared at him in curiosity
 
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Alec watched as she glided back onto the stairs with ease and started darting up back to him. He began to back away once more, fearing that she might have the audacity to hurt him. He began to power walk over to the door, leaving her to her business trying to get back to the roof. With enough speed, he'd be out of here in no time. Jogging down the steps, he walked out the side door connected to the alley way right below the set of rotten stairs she had just witnessed her fall on. Alec was twitching slightly, wanting so badly to write about this awkward event, but couldn't due to the accursed rain.
 
The woman wasnt sure what just happened but he didnt look like he worked for Harvy which was good enough for her. She saw the tattoo parlor sign and momentarily stared at it. Tearing her eyes away from it, she looked at the view of the city, knowing that she needed to focus on her mission.
A vent was found leading into the Harvy building. She looked down and saw a ledge, she took out a grappling hook and shot it over the cooperation sign, hooking it onto the edge of it. She yanked a couple of times, making sure it was secure and dropped down. On the grappling hook there was a button, she pressed it and it zip lined her up. She grabbed one of the railings of the sign and put the hook in her backpack. She noticed the sign that Harvy was hiring and crawled into the vent. Hours later she came out with a card smiling. She used her grappling hook and dropped down, this time hooking to the tattoo parlor. The zip line was jammed and bracing herself she crashed through the window slamming into a desk. She was on the ground unconscious
 
Alec found himself a in a small state of panic, the mere thought of forgetting the details or even forgetting to write about this encounter made his blood turn colder than the pouring rain. He was so deep into his thoughts, picking up even the most microscopic attributes to her, her stance, posture and facial expressions. He was about to jog out the tattoo parlor, checking behind himself to see if she was even near. Alec jumped at the loud crash, following it sound in an instant, his mind veering and ready to remember yet another event. His teal eyes canning around in a fluid motion, almost missing the target of the same exact girl who he was just thinking about. Did she... Just crash through that window? Alec's thoughts were correct, seeing the now dripping wet shards left of the window, following the still girl. Hey, you can even say corpse now. He walked to her side and stared at the young woman for a bit. She would've rung a bell the first moment he laid eyes on her, so he didn't know her. He pressed two fingers to the side of her rained ridden neck, frowning at his warm hands having to brave the elements of the weather. Still alive. Unconscious, it seems.
 
The beautiful young woman laid there motionless
 
Alec tapped his chin, looking off. What was a good way to wake up an unconscious person? He decided to guess and pinch her nose together tightly.
 
The girl struggled, trying to breathe, her eyes finally opened. As Alec let go the girl looked around, her vision was fuzzy
 
Alec raised an eyebrow as it actually worked. Well, maybe. The girl looked like she was about to pass out once more. He sat back unzipping his plastic bag and pulling out one of his many thick binders. He snatched a pen and threw open the binder, starting to date and write about this peculiar event. What was the time? He briefly checked his watch and began writing rather feverishly, the pen glided through the paper with ease. "Your name." Alec said, in more of an demand than a request.
 
The girl finally gained control of her vision once again. "M-my name?" I said looking around.
"What happens if I don't tell you?" I said looking around the parlor.
I started looking around for my grappling gun. "Now where the hell did I put it...?"
 
Alec did not miss a beat, underlining some things to untangle longer strands of information. "I highly doubt that you won't tell me your name." He paused for a moment, watching the girl look about. "It slid towards the salon chairs... That is, if you're looking for that hook-thingy-majig."
 
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