Ada Wong

Her manicured nails traced along the golden strokes painted on her grappling hook. Those eyes of hers followed each person who sauntered by. A click of her tongue bounced off the walls, echoing through the walls encasing an empty street.

Part of her ached when she found herself recognising faces, whether they be from television reports or files she’d read… or simply someone she presumed she knew. Every time she thought she knew a face, she had to convince herself that it was just a false sense of familiarity.

That was until she saw a face she knew all too well. Someone from Raccoon City, to be precise. Dare she make herself known?

They stood with their back flush against a wall, fresh bandages around their bleeding bruised knuckles. Fresh from a fight, she assumed. The occasional hiss escaped their lips, and Ada found herself tilting her head in amusement. Even when they uttered a strand of curse words under their breath, Ada found herself holding back a chuckle.

Her fingers wrapped around the handle of her grappling hook, her arm pointing up towards an apartment balcony, the scratch of metal forcing her to wince. Those leather boots she wore — only a small wedge this time for simple convenience — collided with the ground silently, the only noise coming from her being a short exhale through her nostrils.