Mary woke with a start, gasping for air as she was released from the slimy grip of her nightmares. They haunted her, the memories of her victims. The ethereal visits did little to deter her, however. She would put up with any amount of unearthly pestering, so long as she went to sleep with a wad of cash resting neatly under her pillow.

She hadn't been used to the luxury provided by the flight- it was almost uncomfortable. For a large portion of her life, she had lived from paycheck to paycheck (or victim to victim, if you prefer). She felt glad to remove herself from the sickeningly soft seats, stretching out as she stood. Taking a brief glance around, she took a moment to catch the faces of a few people.

Mary didn't catch much of the intercoms speech, but she retained a few important things... Mostly that Eden looked like somewhere she wanted to be, preferably uninvited. That's what makes it fun. Lagging within the plane for awhile longer than most others, she took a moment to check her luggage. She hadn't really had anything that she could take with her. Simply her knives, a few bottles of assorted hallucinogens and booze, and a small photograph of sentimental value. She kept these items with her at all times, not willing to let them go.

Upon securing her possessions, she stepped out of the plane, into the sun. Her eyes were forcefully jammed shut by the rough grasp of unwelcome sunlight, as her hands raised up instinctively, covering her face. Even without having had a 47 hour flight before, Mary wasn't exactly a fan of bright lights. Most of her time was spent in the dark, where she thrived. For her, daytime was more often a time of rest.

As soon as her eyes adjusted, and she could see through squinted eyelids, she took a look around, waiting for someone who sounded like they knew what they were doing to say something. She swept her eyes around nervously. These people were all trained to... Do their things. Antsy, Mary took one of her longer bladed knives out, and began idly flipping it through the air, watching the sun bounce off of the polished steel in erratic patterns, while still keeping a cautious eye on the others.