Cities.

Sprawls of Cities. 

Dark alleyways, decrepit pits of trash.... People without homes or cares. 

She, too, was without a home. And this city was nothing like the glorious arching gates of her homeland. It was a tragedy.... not a place of hope and destiny. At least, it wasn't to her. Her bare feet padded against the streets of New York, the chill coming down from the overhead countries brushing right past her more heat and cold resistant skin. She still wore her slaves clothing, a long leather slit skirt slid down from her hips and a shirt made from the same material, sleeveless, stretching down only to cover her body until it hit between the rib cage, where it slanted into a V shape and ended.  Her back was left exposed, where a stylized 'S' was burned into her shoulder blade. 

She was one of the lucky ones.

Being a maiden of the ship was better than being a scully-scruber, the lowest of the slaves. They wore nothing but rags and spent all day in the darkness. She had barely kept her beloved circlet hidden, but was able to hold onto it and still had it within her possession despite her pod's crash landing. Those without homes eyed her curiously as she passed by them silently, stepping lightly as to avoid drawing attention to her steps. They usually 'clanked' when she walked normally, giving presence to her already strange air--what with her lack of pigments and grey eyes. She had taken refuge among these shadows and they hadn't seemed to mind. Some reacted with paranoia and left their sleeping stations, but others did not seem to give her the time of day. She had spent long enough in the shadows, however. Karmina was still out there. Somehow, she would need to find her and bring her home.

The pale young woman kept her pace until the streets became somewhat less of a ghetto, shops were actually open and people still walked around at this time of day. However, no one seemed to pay her mind. Instead, all of their eyes were turned to a storefront, where many televisions played an emergency news broadcast. Jump City was under attack. From the distance she was at, she could not make out what was on the small screens. She made her way closer only to see what was there, her empty stomach dropping like it had fallen into a pit. The screen also flickered, the broadcaster, who was recording live, also capturing footage of people with strange abilities forming a counter attack.

Spaceships. Images flashed before her eyes. Taalunia under siege. Red. Fire. Her bloodletters.... Her teeth clenched and so did her fists as she thought of the people without homes who had been kind to her on this planet. Would it too, fall under the whims of the next 'master race?'
[i][b]
"Move."[/b][/i] Her voice seemed to boom despite her small size. People began turning their heads in her direction and reacted simply out of shock when they formed a path for her. She stepped forward, crowding the view of the TV's as people stared, and put her hands on the glass. She stared at the screens of the TV's behind them, and waited until an image of a spaceship came up. There. 

She pushed her hands through the storefront's glass, a warbling sound emitting from it. A collective gasp formed behind her, but she continued pushing until she was through the glass entirely. 

New York would not see the likes of Marilyn again.