The last thing she remembers is fire and the not-so-ironic burning need to run. Run away, little girl. Little lost girl that no one knows, not even herself.
She had three crystals in her pocket, pretty little trinkets and baubles that were useless. At least until she found out one was a key but by then it was long gone and the Jaffa that demanded its return was lying at her feet bleeding out from the healed scars that once housed the potential for greater horrors than she remembers.
Pretty little baubles for a pretty little nameless runaway girl. Useless, all of them. Thrown away on the dirty street and ground beneath boot heels and ash. Like her.
She learned a new trick today. Old trick actually; timeless if you want to know the truth. And she does. And she does it more than once just to get herself inside the backgate and her hands on a computer console and watch her fingers fly. There's something funny about that, now if only she could remember the punchline because she could damn sure use a laugh right now since the information she needed wasn't where she'd thought it would be.
Fucking goddamn shitsucking lying Jaffa bastard.
If he wasn't already dead, she'd cut off his dick and feed it to him. Maybe she'll just do that to the whorefucker that told her that what she needed to know was behind door number one that the now dead Jaffa guarded for the Lucians. And to think she fucked that son of a bitch and called him 'daddy' for nothing.
She sighs and mentally ticks down to the next stop on her list.
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