Money, guns, and more.

Looking through all the drawers you find a needle and thread and decide the best thing to do is to stay simple for now, then buy something as soon as possible. Finding all the knives to be frighteningly sharp, you opt to take a double bladed knife you are pretty sure is called a dirk that has about a 9” blade and rather simple handle in a black leather sheath. Using it you make yourself a rather simple halter top and skirt using a towel, as you don't want piss anyone off by cutting up their sheets or anything more valuable. You make both articles as tight as possible in the hopes that they don't fall off, and while the stitching isn't exactly professional, you are pretty happy with your work. Returning to the cabinet you guesstimate that there is around $20,000 in cash, and opt to take a fifth of that, hoping that is enough but not so much as to piss someone off, and put the stack of cash next to the knife on the desk. Turning your attention next to the little blue glowing cards in baggies you find a blank license and pull it out of it's baggie. The second you do it fills itself out with what seem to be your stats. According to the magic card you are 5'6” tall, 115 lbs, you were born on Halloween, and you are 22 years old with blue eyes, blonde hair, you don't need glasses, and you are now legally able to drive any motorcycle, car, or small truck. It seems to also have decided that you live in an apartment in Yonkers, New York, as there is an address listed as well. The only thing not filled out is the name, it is blinking apparently waiting for you to say it or something. Not sure exactly where the name comes from, a memory, an actress, your not sure but you blurt out, Katya Savchuk. Sure enough it card finishes filling itself out and the blue glow subsides. “Cool.” Not sure of how it is going to work you decide to open the little baggies containing a checking account linked credit card, a concealed weapon carry permit issued from New York state, and finally a passport, not sure what you will need. All of them fill out with your new name without you having to say a thing. The passport even indicating that you have apparently taken what you would guess are 5 separate trips to foreign countries, or more. Looking at the stamps and dates it says you have been to France, and Italy on one vacation, Russia, Romania, and Ukraine on a second, Japan third, as well as going back to Ukraine on two more separate trips. You have no idea what kind of credit you have or if the bank is even real but it is kind of comforting to have something normal, it just makes all this seem ever so slightly less insane.

“Well I have a permit, I might as well pick me a gun or two.” You seem to have to say it out loud before grabbing any of the weapons, as if to appease anyone listening. You pick up every last firearm point it, rack the slide, just play with them in general, to get the feel. It seems you aren't as strong as you would like to be, as the slide on the polymer 9mm proves to be way to hard to manage. Similarly the .44 and shotgun are just out, to heavy and you aren't sure you could handle the recoil. The .45 you can manage, but decide in the end that it is to much also. When it is all said and done you decide that as there are a total of 11 firearms you probably shouldn't take more than 2, settling on the snub nosed .357 that you see Smith and Wesson stamped on the side, and the little .380, which you discover is a Sig Sauer. Last you take all the magazines for the semi auto, 2 speed loaders for the revolver that you find with the ammo, and 2 full boxes of 50 bullets for each gun.

Next you make yourself 4 more sandwiches, and grab 2 little bags of chips, 3 bananas, 2 bottles of water, and a 20 oz generic soda you have never heard of and wrap it all neatly in a towel before heading into the garage to pick a vehicle. Feeling very much like you are doing something wrong as you stuff all the cash and newly created cards into one paper bag, and the guns and ammo in a second. Setting all your new things on one of the work tables in the garage, you can't resist adding a multi-tip screw driver, locking pliers, and a small set of 7 socket wrenches to the little pile next to the dagger, needle, and thread you used to make your clothes, stuffing all of that into yet another bag before you start looking over the vehicles once again. Hopping in and on each, they all have the keys and even the title inside of them, and every one starts effortlessly, so condition doesn't seem to be a factor. However carrying capacity is. There is only a small soft case on the back of the Ninja, so if you pick that you will either be carrying a lot of the things you plan to take with you, or leaving them behind. The larger Harley has two hard cases on either side of the back tire that while not huge, are easily big enough to carry everything you have, plus more. That said you aren't sure you want a motorcycle anyway. Mulling over the options you start to get a nagging feeling that you need to get out of here sooner rather than later.