[Aya Brea] Introduction
Series: Parasite Eve
Character: Aya Brea
Timeline: Between the events of Parasite Eve I and Parasite Eve II
Even behind her closed eyelids, the world was still spinning. It was a sickly feeling; the kind of feeling one got when waking up after drinking way too much tequila - and perhaps a few jager bombs for good measure - and falling sleep in some poor stranger’s bed. She groaned, bringing her hand to her pounding forehead. Her fingers came away feeling sticky, and alarm rose in her chest. Her eyes flew open and she looked at her fingertips, ignoring the burning-hot headache pounding behind her eyes.
Blood, a few grits of dirt. But the wound wasn’t gushing, and that was a good sign.
Slowly, methodically, she crawled to her feet. For some reason, she was wearing her favorite black evening gown, and yet her shoes were gone, of all things to be missing. How strange. She briefly wobbled on unsteady legs before fully gaining her balance, and she looked around, squinting through the light.
Where on earth was this? This was a part of Manhattan she had never seen before. And she had seen a lot of Manhattan. More than she ever cared to see.
“Hel-Hello?” she called meekly; her throat was dry. She felt like she hadn’t used her voice in ages. “Wha-what’s going on here?”
A glint caught her eye; it was laying on a swatch of crumbled pavement beneath a city street sign whose name was indistinguishable. It looked like a cell phone, perhaps one of those fancy ones. Good, I can call for help. Maybe Daniel knows what’s going on here. She stepped towards it, ignoring the feeling of hot pavement against her bare feet; fatigue overcame her and she collapsed next to the phone. She picked it up.
It wasn’t any kind of phone she had ever seen before, but after staring at it for a few moments, and pushing some random buttons, she was sure she could figure it out…
Character: Aya Brea
Timeline: Between the events of Parasite Eve I and Parasite Eve II
Even behind her closed eyelids, the world was still spinning. It was a sickly feeling; the kind of feeling one got when waking up after drinking way too much tequila - and perhaps a few jager bombs for good measure - and falling sleep in some poor stranger’s bed. She groaned, bringing her hand to her pounding forehead. Her fingers came away feeling sticky, and alarm rose in her chest. Her eyes flew open and she looked at her fingertips, ignoring the burning-hot headache pounding behind her eyes.
Blood, a few grits of dirt. But the wound wasn’t gushing, and that was a good sign.
Slowly, methodically, she crawled to her feet. For some reason, she was wearing her favorite black evening gown, and yet her shoes were gone, of all things to be missing. How strange. She briefly wobbled on unsteady legs before fully gaining her balance, and she looked around, squinting through the light.
Where on earth was this? This was a part of Manhattan she had never seen before. And she had seen a lot of Manhattan. More than she ever cared to see.
“Hel-Hello?” she called meekly; her throat was dry. She felt like she hadn’t used her voice in ages. “Wha-what’s going on here?”
A glint caught her eye; it was laying on a swatch of crumbled pavement beneath a city street sign whose name was indistinguishable. It looked like a cell phone, perhaps one of those fancy ones. Good, I can call for help. Maybe Daniel knows what’s going on here. She stepped towards it, ignoring the feeling of hot pavement against her bare feet; fatigue overcame her and she collapsed next to the phone. She picked it up.
It wasn’t any kind of phone she had ever seen before, but after staring at it for a few moments, and pushing some random buttons, she was sure she could figure it out…