A/N: Note that I don't have any reference as to Toxa's personality. This is all just from how I imagine him to act. He is, of course, property of Weneegee and if I got anything wrong about Toxa then I'm sorry!
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He paused, listening hard to make up for the lack of one of his eyes. His long trench coat billowed out behind him as he continued on his way. Small flickers of something green seethed from the exposed skin on his hands every now and then. It writhed and squirmed on his skin like a demented liquid, and eventually seeped back into his pores before starting it all again.
Toxa wasn't phased by this at all. In the dark, he simply kept moving. That's all he was really concerned about right now; he was accustomed to the acid working it's way around his system. What was more important to him was that he got away from those damn people following him...
They didn't know he knew they were there. As far as those few Militia were concerned, Toxa was completely unaware of the coming threat. There was only five of them; not enough for the young, dark-clad man to truly worry about.
He'd been on the run from them the past few weeks. It's started during his trip down to New Marais, when that creature that had been all over the news had caught up to him. He didn't remember much from that day; but since then he had worked to practice better control over the toxic acid he had been gifted with.
Then it turned out that New Marais had been seized by the human-purist Bertrand. True to any human-purist, Bertrand was now doing everything in his power to eliminate any 'freaks' he came across.
Freaks. Monsters.
Conduits.
He was familiar with the concept of Conduits. He knew he was one and he understood what it all meant. He knew he wasn't the only one; he'd seen that Electric Man zipping around on the power-lines above, doing good deeds for the people of New Marais. Toxa wasn't a bad person, there wasn't any doubt about that, but he did know that it'd be better for his survival if he were to stay out of attention. He didn't want to have to pick any more Militia bullets out of his skin than he already had.
Now, with those five orange-clad men following after the familiar gasmask-smiley logo on the back of Toxa's coat, he kept his ears attentive, hearing each and every little sound their boots made as they crunched softly on the gravel.
He ducked into a familiar alley, not breaking stride as he moved towards the barbed-wire fence blocking his path. Instead, he simply raised a hand, and smiled softly to himself as the green acid ate through it. It didn't take much effort to step through the hole left.
The following Militia hesitated slightly, but pressed on. They couldn't get a clear shot; not in this bad lighting, and most certainly not while he was trotting along so fast.
Toxa knew this.
The thing with the Militia was that they just weren't smart. Not enough for him, anyway.
And so he walked on.
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He paused, listening hard to make up for the lack of one of his eyes. His long trench coat billowed out behind him as he continued on his way. Small flickers of something green seethed from the exposed skin on his hands every now and then. It writhed and squirmed on his skin like a demented liquid, and eventually seeped back into his pores before starting it all again.
Toxa wasn't phased by this at all. In the dark, he simply kept moving. That's all he was really concerned about right now; he was accustomed to the acid working it's way around his system. What was more important to him was that he got away from those damn people following him...
They didn't know he knew they were there. As far as those few Militia were concerned, Toxa was completely unaware of the coming threat. There was only five of them; not enough for the young, dark-clad man to truly worry about.
He'd been on the run from them the past few weeks. It's started during his trip down to New Marais, when that creature that had been all over the news had caught up to him. He didn't remember much from that day; but since then he had worked to practice better control over the toxic acid he had been gifted with.
Then it turned out that New Marais had been seized by the human-purist Bertrand. True to any human-purist, Bertrand was now doing everything in his power to eliminate any 'freaks' he came across.
Freaks. Monsters.
Conduits.
He was familiar with the concept of Conduits. He knew he was one and he understood what it all meant. He knew he wasn't the only one; he'd seen that Electric Man zipping around on the power-lines above, doing good deeds for the people of New Marais. Toxa wasn't a bad person, there wasn't any doubt about that, but he did know that it'd be better for his survival if he were to stay out of attention. He didn't want to have to pick any more Militia bullets out of his skin than he already had.
Now, with those five orange-clad men following after the familiar gasmask-smiley logo on the back of Toxa's coat, he kept his ears attentive, hearing each and every little sound their boots made as they crunched softly on the gravel.
He ducked into a familiar alley, not breaking stride as he moved towards the barbed-wire fence blocking his path. Instead, he simply raised a hand, and smiled softly to himself as the green acid ate through it. It didn't take much effort to step through the hole left.
The following Militia hesitated slightly, but pressed on. They couldn't get a clear shot; not in this bad lighting, and most certainly not while he was trotting along so fast.
Toxa knew this.
The thing with the Militia was that they just weren't smart. Not enough for him, anyway.
And so he walked on.
