She drags a hand across her forehead and squints her eyes shut. Afternoon light needles her head with pain. Drums beat behind her temples, loud, constant, pulsating rythyms. The sounds of footsteps and conversation invade her alley perch with an overpowering tsunami of sound. The normal, alley smells of mildew and rotting paper turn her stomach.

She leans her head back into the wall and breathes - carefully, for her weak stomach. Her own damn fault for overdrinking, and she knows that, but somehow knowing that doesn't console her much. She has two options, really. She can either go curl up on a motheaten water-stained mattress until the sun goes down and her strength goes up, or she can jack money for aspirin off one of these rich idiots and go on with her day.

She slits her eyes open and follows the path of her shadow toward the alley mouth. Ease her eyes into daylight, if only by trickery. She frowns and tilts her head to the side. Are her eyes blurring too much or are there two shadows? Her on a rickety crate and a taller one...

She jumps off her seat and stumbles standing as a sword cuts through the air where her head had been. A woman smirks audibly behind her ear. "Hello, Midori."

"Screw off." Adrenaline floods her body and transforms pain into energy through natural alchemy. She straightens her back slow and careful while running through all the possibilities for escape. Her fingers twitch.

"You look pale. Not feeling well?"

Crowd's too thin to hide and too thick to get her bearings. Back alley building door’s locked too tight to pick quickly and window’s too narrow to break and climb through without slicing herself up. Fire escape?

"That would put you at a distinct disadvantage, wouldn't it?"

Doesn’t matter where it leads, fire escape it is. Midori ducks another swipe and kicks out while she's on the ground. The woman dodges without trying and twirls the sword to adjust it in her grip. Show-off.

Midori rises slowly and stays low and ready. Fuzzy vision makes her opponent's black clothing blur into the dark alley, but she can just decipher legs. Legs are helpful. When they lead to the left, she springs to the right and lunges for a cool metal rung. Her weight sags harder than she expected and it takes a precious minute before she can pull herself up into climbing range.

Her opponent anticipates the delay and aims for the hand on the ladder. Midori’s forced into gymnastics that make her stomach churn so she can kick the sword away while grabbing for the next rung and getting a foothold. Somehow it works. Once she makes purchase she's up and running. The metal pings underfoot and she heads up past two landings without looking back.

She stops to breathe when she reaches the roof although it does little to still her rabbitting heart. Too much exercise with too little in her. She sways with the effort of standing and looks around.

Fuck. Flat gravel landing, no door inside, no building close enough to dream of leaping to other than back the direction she came. She peers over the edge down at glass tables and striped awnings that wouldn't break a fall well enough to walk away from.

Trapped.

She reaches down her boot and pulls a dagger from its hilt. Back the way she came, then.