Unforgivable

[Miranda Frost]

The Tavern's atmosphere was something the pale soldier had grown accustomed to. The thick clouds of cigar smoke clouded the woman's features, leaving her appearing much like a dark spectre drifting in the mists of old. The heavy scent of alcohol in the air seemed to mask her rather metallic scent and the haughty laughter and boasting of the miners, bounty hunters, and mercenaries shrouded the mechanical whirring of the servos and gears in her prosthetic as she reached for the crystal glass full of the all familiar amber liquid she'd been abusing.

 The red light of her eye glanced over towards the bounties bulletin. The old flyers pinned to the wall donned both faces familiar and not so familiar, though one in particular struck deep within the confines of her memories. Its true that she had difficulty sorting out the muddled mixture of her past experiences. Memories of multiple worlds contradictory to one another, weaving a chaotic line of time from the recesses of her mind. The disappearance of the Mysterious Nealaphh had drowned her hopes of sorting them out.

 However this may be....

 One of the faces seemed to have a place in both of her memory lines. Her eye narrowed on the flyer in question and reached out, a single tug of her claw tearing the thick paper from the sheet metal bulletin. The dark sketch dictated a man in a dark coat with a pristine white mask with thin, curved eye slits. The man also wore a ragged wide brimmed hat that covered other features. Though this alone didn't catch Miranda's attention, the name inscribed below the portrait did.

 "November Frost", she'd read aloud, yet her voice was nothing more than a whisper when faced with the intense beating of her heart. This name rang synonymous with both of her memory lines. This man held the name of her older brother. This man had once held Miranda's admiration and served as the goal that she would have achieved. Because of him she became strong, but now he was here.... and committing atrocities no less. From what she remembered of him, he held the ability to do what the paper had described.

 This man had wiped out North Village, and apparently only one had escaped. Perhaps it would do Miranda well to pay this man a visit.