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IC: "I kinda assumed they existed as soon as I grew the fangs, myself..." I mentioned, a little miffed at having been sent on a snipe hunt after all. Hands feeding into my pockets, I promptly spun on my heel and ambled over to the pair once more, seeing as there was no reason to keep messing around searching for clues that wouldn't mean anything.

"I mean, once vampires proved to be real, all bets are basically off until I know better." he explained with a shrug.

helo frens

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IC: Ashley

 

When Dallas had returned she’d been overjoyed by the fact that he’d come back alive and not in a body bag. He had however broken his arm, and Ashley had spared no effort on making sure he was alright, she admittedly had babied him a little, at least for the first few days. Everything was rather blissful, until she learned about what had happened to Nicole, that was when everything went to ######.

 

When she found out that Nicole had slit her own throat in Dr. Thomas’ office, it hit her like a truck. Some people tried to tell her that it wasn’t her fault, that Nicole had brought it on herself. That was true, what she’d done to Dallas was inexcusable, and ultimately Ashley’s attack on Nicole had been well justified. But that didn’t stop Ashley from feeling responsible, even when she tried to tell herself that she shouldn’t feel guilty she did. She had drove Nicole to end her life, accidently or not she had. This drove her insane, she was supposed to be a ###### pacifist, she hated violence and death. She’d wanted to see Nicole behind bars, not dead.

 

Ashley couldn’t hide how torn up inside she was, she wore her heart on her sleeve. She definitely couldn’t hide it from Dallas. She had no choice but to suppress the feelings, the memories. She’d just forget about Nicole, she didn’t exist in her mind anymore. She wear her usual, cheerful smile and just forget it ever happened.

 

Then Sakuya...that was just too much. That was her friend. Sakuya had been there for both her and Dallas, and now she was gone. Ashley had wanted to get to know her better, and now she’d never get that chance.

 

This is what finally drove Ashley to find yet another hidden stash of alcohol that Ric had hidden throughout the school. It was like he left them there for people to find when they needed them. One night she just didn't go to sleep and drank...drank until she couldn't feel anything.

 

The next day she’d woken up in the greenhouse, laying in a pile of dirt in nothing but her pajamas. Once she managed to get up and rub her pounding head she found herself wanting to open yet another bottle...reality was just too much right now, she didn’t want to deal with it. There was an unopened bottle lying to the side of her, she picked it up and stared at it, looking at the reflection of herself that appeared on the bottle. She didn’t like what she saw, and she angrily chucked the bottle...sending it flying until it crashed into a nearby window and made a rather awful mess of glass and booze.

 

She started to sob, what was wrong with her? How had she come to this? Instead of being there for Dallas she was nowhere to be found, falling apart and getting drunk. She felt ashamed, she couldn’t even allow herself to go see Dallas, not when she was like this. He was suffering enough, and she was failing him miserably as a girlfriend. How could she help him when she couldn’t even help herself?

 

It was then that it dawned on her that there was someone who could help Dallas, far better than she could. Alex…

 

She pulled out her phone and began to text the technopath, he was Dallas’ best friend...he could help Dallas.

Hey Alex...could you check up on Dallas for me? See if he’s doing alright? I’d do it myself but...I can’t. She sent it.

Edited by Leonard Bones McCoy

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My Bzprpg ProfilesGhosts of Bara Magna

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Ic:

 

"Problems?"

 

Kristen Hailey strode into the greenhouse, taking a look at the mess. Then at Ashley.

 

"You know, we're pretty similar. You and I, we're good friends with Dallas, and I know friends isn't the right word to describe you two. And we- Actually, we're not similar at all. You're nice, the plant-lover who has a heart, and no one can say a bad word about you. I'm a who doesn't even deserve to be here," Kristen said with a frown, tilting her head at Ashley.

 

"Want to talk?"

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IC: Mikhail

 

The SHIELD agent sat patiently outside the examination room, leaning himself back against the plaster wall. For many, seeing the powered field agent waiting there, arms folded and signature bucket hat shadowing his eyes, would be a surprise; why would he, a man who rarely ever succumbed to sickness, ever visit the medical wing?

 

There were no illnesses biding their time in his body, of course. Mikhail's body was rather superhuman in nature - there were few diseases that could overcome his immune system.

 

He was merely here for someone else.

 

Waiting.

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IC: 

 

Ashley's crying stopped once Kristen spoke up, she hadn't expected anyone else to be there, and she was a bit mortified to be seen like this. More the broken glass and booze then being caught crying. There was no real use in denying that she'd been drinking and was distraught, it was pretty obvious. 

 

She stared at Kristen for a moment, she'd never had the pleasure of talking with her much, but she was well aware of who she was. She was one of the people from the alternate universe, had lost her arm, switched from a lizard creature to a girl, pretty normal stuff as far as Ashley was concerned. That sort of stuff happened everyday. 

 

"Well I..." She wiped her face with her sleeve, though it was covered in dirt so it smeared her face. "...sure, I think I could use a good talk right now..." 

 

IC: 

 

Aella whimpered as they arrived at the doctor's office, or place of horrors as far as she was concerned. Did she really have to go in there? Her legs didn't want to move and she definitely wasn't going to let Tera go, she held on to the other girl's arm as if her life depended on it. 

 

I hate pointy things!

Edited by Leonard Bones McCoy

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My Bzprpg ProfilesGhosts of Bara Magna

Skyra | Hakari | Oceanna | Taleen | Arisaka | Zanakra | Kaminari | Drakkar

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IC: 

 

"Well it's...it's um...oh god..." She found herself tearing up just thinking about it. "...you know who Nicole is?" Most people did, but it didn't hurt to check, she was having a hard enough time forming the words anyway. 

Edited by Leonard Bones McCoy

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My Bzprpg ProfilesGhosts of Bara Magna

Skyra | Hakari | Oceanna | Taleen | Arisaka | Zanakra | Kaminari | Drakkar

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IC: Ashley

 

"The truth is...I didn't like her at all...not after I found out what she did to Dallas I..." She shuddered involuntarily. "...when I found out that she'd...raped him...I attacked her and...almost killed her..." She put her hands on her forehead. "I've never been angry before...not like that...if Aleks hadn't tranquilized me..." She shook her head. "I didn't kill her...so I thought I could just forget about her...but then she...slit her own throat and I can't help but think that...that she wouldn't have done it if it wasn't for me...she's dead because of me." She started to cry again. "And that's not even the worst of it..." She sobbed.

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My Bzprpg ProfilesGhosts of Bara Magna

Skyra | Hakari | Oceanna | Taleen | Arisaka | Zanakra | Kaminari | Drakkar

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IC:

 

"Sounds like she got what was coming to her then," Kristen said sternly, folding her arms and grimacing as thoughts of Joey and Lynae kept the the forefront of her mind. It took her the briefest of moments to notice Ashley crying, and practically leapt to her side.

 

Ah... Crying person... What am I supposed to do? What would Dallas do? Probably be witty and tell her to keep it together...

 

"Hey... Don't worry, everything's gonna be fine... Please don't cry- I don't know how to handle crying people..." She said softly, gently patting Ashley's shoulder.

 

---

 

"Tera hasn't done a whole lot of explaining," Trinity said with a small frown, which quickly turned upside-down when she added, "But she showed me how to read my dictionary! Maybe it's a word in the dictionary? Like alias! Or alibi! Or alien!"

Edited by Landes'Rehn
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IC (Aramis):

 

With Lucky Charms and his unfortunate associate out of the building, he was free to actually notice the plate of food that had arrived on the table in front of him, which he did with enthusiasm, tearing strips off of the chicken tenders and sampling the array of sauces that accompanied them. He considered, briefly, mixing two sauces, but such blasphemy was beneath him.

 

While he ate, he glanced, occasionally, at his fellow witnesses to the spectacle that had just walked out. The cashier was nothing special; not bad, good-looking enough for a Tuesday night, but he was either not bothered by the Wild Wings breakfast menu, or perhaps worse, simply numb to it. Of far more interest was the pair that had settled in to torment some rich pretty boy's cell phone. Both of them had wings, but at least the lady's were clearly mechanical, sort of an... after-market add-on. The guy.... there's a lot of space between "mechanical wings" and "that guy was straight-up born with bat-wings", and if what Aramis was seeing was any indication, he'd ignored all of that space and gone for the far end of the spectrum.

 

So alright, Aramis wasn't glancing. He was staring. So what? The guy had wings. Not bad-looking, either, from what he could see across the restaurant. 

We will remember - Skies may fade and stars may wane; we won't forget


And your light shines bright - yes so much brighter shine on


We will remember - Until the skies will fall we won't forget


We will remember


We all shall follow doom

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IC (Alecto)

 

Alecto raised an eyebrow at Snow. It'd been...awhile...since someone had stared at the wings. New York was good like that. At least his wings weren't on fire, for one. That made him practically normal, by the standards of this city. "Looks like we've got a fan huh?" He gestured, at the out of the towner across the restaurant. And he was an out of towner, or Alecto swore he'd eat his shirt. For one, he looked like he actually cared about the weather.

 

When everyone in New York had long ago given up hope. Time to test out some lines, in other words. "I think I'll go with something like "Wild Wings at Wild Wings, whodda thought?" Alecto shrugged extravagantly. "You got any ideas?"

  • Upvote 1

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC: Jesika

 

The cyborg snorted into her phone, glancing up and over to the observer in question before returning her gaze to Alecto.  Self-consciously, Jesika shifted the unique appendages closer to her body.  So maybe Batboy was fine with the looks that came along with, and probably because he'd had them his entire life, but this was still rather new for her.  Mainly because when she got them there wasn't much time to consider anything remotely like that.  But now, with everything comparatively calm, these things started to come up.

 

"Wild Wings at Wild Wings, huh?" She repeated, shaking her head slowly, but unable to stop the grin from spreading across her face. "Sorry man, you're on your own for this one, I don't wanna be associated with that line."

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IC (Cynegild):

 

It had, broadly, been a good week. Last Monday, he'd gotten the idea in his head to procure a very specific item. Sort of a novelty thing, really. A collector's item. Maybe an ingredient for a dark ritual, but mostly, he just wanted to have it.

 

After doing some research, making some calls, and, okay, tapping an ex-HYDRA agent's personal phone, he got a lead on where he could acquire such a thing. So, on Tuesday, he chartered a single-engine Cessna, a little beat up but the paintjob was nice, to fly him down to Chile, to meet a man named Diego.

 

Diego didn't have what he needed. He knew that when he hired the plane.

 

Diego had a cousin in Canada who might have what he needed, but he needed Diego to put a good word in for him. To get that to happen, he had to do Diego a favor.

 

Diego, you see, wanted a necklace made from the bones of a parakeet that had died of natural causes. It wasn't for him. Diego's grandmother was weird, her birthday was coming up, and Diego didn't ask questions anymore.

 

On Wednesday, Cynegild caught a housecat that had run away from a woman in Santiago. The housecat stood accused of killing her sister-in-law's parakeet, and while she was, nominally, upset, the punishment waiting for the cat wasn't nearly as bad as it had expected - certainly not worth running away over.

 

After a little haggling, and, okay, maybe some begging, Cynegild was able to convince her to hand over the remains of the parakeet, which he then gave to Diego in exchange for a phone call and some advice on the flammability of powdered weasel hair.

 

On Thursday, he realised that he didn't have a date arranged for the gala the Hellfire Club was set to host, and began to suspect that it would be best if he found one.

 

Friday was considerably more productive, as he arrived in Ottawa, and introduced himself to Diego's cousin, Alfonso. who informed him that what he wanted could not be found in North America.

 

Alfonso had recently moved to Canada, and got most of his information on certain small mammals from European websites. Cynegild had been to Canada before, and bloody well knew what he was talking about, thank-you-very-much. They argued the matter for a while, with Cynegild finally resorting to just Googling the bloody thing, pulling up the Wikipedia article, and gesturing triumphantly at it. Stony silence followed, after which Alfonso agreed to set out the traps, and Cynegild reminded him to watch for the right signs, and make sure the kiln was ready, and Alfonso irritably told him to do his job and let Alfonso do his.

 

After Alfonso returned from setting the traps, they had a bit of time to kill, so they played a few hands of poker, and Cynegild asked Alfonso's professional opinion on something.

 

Alfonso confirmed that yes, it would be super creepy to ask your employee to a gala. Like, really intensely creepy.

 

Oh. Cynegild asked another, semi-related question.

 

Alfonso affirmed that yeah, no, it would be a bad idea to ask any woman who's been described as having "the Cthulhu look."

 

A third question followed, and Alfonso told him that no, that would be stupid, how would you even make the bottles walk.

 

Cynegild nodded reluctantly, and set up his sleeping bag for the night.

 

On Saturday morning, progress was made in his quest, and Alfonso informed him that the ingredients were ready, he'd dug the mortar and pestle out of storage, and the kiln was being fired up. A few hours and Cynegild being fairly bad at Go Fish later, Alfonso excused himself for a few minutes, then returned to the room with a brown paper baggie.

 

"So, how much did you say you'd give me for the weasel dust?" he asked, shaking the bag for emphasis.

 

Cynegild peered at the bag over his hand, and squinted a little. It was smaller than he'd expected. "You're sure it's weasel dust?"

 

Alfonso looked at the bag uncertainly. "Yes," he said slowly, glancing at a few hairs clinging to his coat. "Totally sure. Abso, um... yeah, totally, definitely absatively sure. It's gotta be weasel dust, couldn't possibly be anything else. I think."

 

"Oh, good." Cynegild named the price, and walked out a few minutes later with the bag. He forgot his sleeping bag, but whatever, he'd stolen that from Alaric's stash of camping supplies like three months ago.

 

On Sunday, he arrived back in New York, and sent a small sample of the dust in the bag to a friend of his in Vermont, for genetic testing. He also briefly considered asking Lacey, but decided that the person who'd be getting the key to his liquor cabinet if he failed wouldn't have much incentive to say yes.

 

Plus he was pretty sure she was going with Romulus, and he didn't know how to dance with two people at once.

 

With all that settled, he resolved to ask Alaric for advice on Monday. Which was now today.

  • Upvote 1

We will remember - Skies may fade and stars may wane; we won't forget


And your light shines bright - yes so much brighter shine on


We will remember - Until the skies will fall we won't forget


We will remember


We all shall follow doom

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IC (Alecto)

 

"Your support touches me. Truly, I would be lost without you." Alecto's tone was roughly as dry as the Gobi desert. After a particularly hot summer. During a drought. Alecto shrugged extravagantly. "Fine. We'll try this another way. Let's see who blinks first." He turned about, and stared right back at their erstwhile 'fan'. Let's see how they liked being boggled at eh?

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC (Aramis):

 

Oh, hey, now Batman was staring back, and oh my, he was a pretty one.

 

Well, Aramis wasn't one to lose a game of silent chicken. Without moving his eyes, he dipped another piece of chicken - honey mustard this time, had to keep the rotation up - and took a bite. Keeping up just the hint of a smirk as he chewed, he resisted the urge to say something, and waited for Batman to start the conversation.

 

This was going to be fun.

We will remember - Skies may fade and stars may wane; we won't forget


And your light shines bright - yes so much brighter shine on


We will remember - Until the skies will fall we won't forget


We will remember


We all shall follow doom

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IC:

 

waga waga waga

 

jesiiiiiiikaaaaaaaa

 

ya basic ######

 

pick up ya phone

 

IC:

 

Dominik begrudgingly took a sip of orange juice and tried not to gag on the citrus taste. Least there's no pulp.

 

-Tyler

Edited by Luke Schwarz

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC: Jesika

 

#### jeezus

 

Her phone's sudden attempts to shake itself from her grip snapped her out of her singular focus on the events transpiring before her.  The image of a familiar hand four fifths of the way curled into a fist appeared on the screen.

 

"Heeeeeey."

Edited by hollow( )moon

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IC:

 

Alex had almost let himself forget how unpleasant wading into combat was, before the Second Battle of New York. Almost let himself forget what it felt like to be shot at, and shoot back. He had forgotten what it was like when the people trying to hit him where human too. It had made things more difficult. He had done his best to disable rather than kill, but he wasn't always so fortunate.

 

The armors, ironically, had been easiest for him.

 

After the battle, when he returned the Blackbird to the Institute under careful supervision from both Alec and himself, he had returned to his usual abode. Nicole's death had been... More than difficult. Sakuya's, too. John's death had almost been shrugged off; he had spent so long around the Ultimate version that he half-expected either one to drop at any time. But their demises pierced deep. He had rescued Nicole, way back when, with Dallas, and John, and Ashlynn, and Julia, and Alec... The team. She'd been so grateful when they freed her. Alex had truly fought back against another person for the first time rescuing her.

 

Sakuya had been a brief acquaintance, but one that burned brightly. And then... She was gone.

 

The text found the technopath, not for the first time, staring across the Institute's lawn. He hadn't been able to stay in the basement once he found out. Too many ghosts, too dark, too confined... He needed sunlight. He needed air. He'd slept in his dorm for the first time in months. But he wasn't surprised to discover Dallas was doing just as badly. Worse.

 

A quick affirmative sent to Ashley was followed by, with an ease he once would have envied, a hijacking of Siri.

 

"Do I have to break for you to call Alex anymore, Dallas?"

 

Siri said.

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC:

 

"And if the water dries up

And the moon stops shining

Stars faaaall, and the world goes blind boy--"

 

"Do I have to break for you to call Alex anymore, Dallas?"

 

Dallas, listless singing cut off by his device's once-shackled AI, looked towards his iPhone with wide blue eyes - he was so shocked at the interruption that the Omega e-cigarette he'd rolled to the corner of his mouth while he crooned nearly dropped between his crossed legs.. He'd gotten dressed and out of the shower for the day at a respectable twenty-to-eleven ayy-emm, and was lounging on the bed in black jeans and a backwards Oakland A's cap. He muffled a yawn in the crook of one bare arm and looked to the phone again.

 

"Do-Does he, uh...wanna chat?" he asked his iPhone. He took a quick drag on his e-cigarette and blew the vanilla bourbon-flavored vapours into the vent above his bed. He hadn't smoked since John died. It wasn't the same these days - and besides, vapour tricks were way cooler than any high. "I mean, nah. No. You don't."

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC:

 

Alistair’s day, as usual, began with a shower, a quick breakfast, a cup of coffee, and an incantation to a somewhat sentient sword dating back to the 5th or 6th century. Under its current name, that is, some relatives had theories about it being much older. Not that they mattered, when ensuring its continued cooperation had an equal amount of mysticism and frustration as operating the hotel’s temperamental coffee machine.

 

“The King sleeps in Avalon, awaiting the day of his return. I, his humble servant, of great need and noble purpose, shall wield you in his stead. I ask for your power, Caledfwlch.”

 

The same odd routine had been performed every morning, barring a few exceptional circumstances, since the blade had passed into his care. Every morning the blade answered his call, revealing its presence and filling him with strength. His father had done the same before him, and his father before him, going back dozens of generations. But the step was an important one. Excalibur, like the Sword in the Stone, demonstrated a degree of… Empathy. He could talk at length about how the two were not one and the same, but they did have that trait in common. The Sword could not be pulled from the stone by anyone but the rightful King of England. Excalbir would not permit itself to be wielded by anyone it deemed unworthy. That it might one day deem Alistair unworthy was one of his greater, and unvoiced, fears.

 

The British scholar secured its sheath to his bag as the sword faded from view, his morning obligations satisfied. He locked the door to his room behind him and descended towards the lobby, mind wandering back to Caledfwlch’s last battle…

 

Taking out soldiers with a magic sword was a pain in the ###### without backup.

 

He stepped out of the elevator and headed towards the door, smiling at the thought.

 

IC:

 

"I would, actually. People are worried."

Edited by Riku Tryon

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC/NPC:

 

It was cold in here. Far too cold. They didn't seem to mind, though. While she sat here, wrapped in a blanket and shivering, they just conversed like normal. Well, if normal was tense and hostile.

 

"No, and that's final!" the older woman snapped, eyes blazing. The man's frown deepened. "What makes you the authority on this? I can do whatever I want to with my own flesh and blood, dear." He drew out the last word, lips twitching into a smile with every enraged outburst of his wife.

 

She spluttered indignantly. "Yours?! So she just sprouted into being with no help from anyone else?!" She whipped her head to the side, focusing now on a young man who seemed to be trying to make himself invisible. He had dark brown eyes that were wracked with guilt, and his chestnut hair was falling over his rapidly redding face.

 

"And this! You turn up with a kid who is obviously old enough to have pre-existed our marriage! What the h***?!"

 

The man pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Can I just take her already? I kind of need her for something." One look at his wife's face froze him in the middle of his attempt at further annoying her.

 

"Or not..."

 

OOC: I'll make profiles when/if they actually interact with someone.

Edited by Blair the Cat
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IC: Shiloh

 

Shiloh seemed to be drinking her glass of orange juice with no problems, she raised an eyebrow at Dominik. 

 

 

IC: Ashley

 

"I'm sorry..." It took what seemed like an eternity, but Ashley managed to calm down, till the tears were but a trickle. "...S-Sakuya...she's dead...hit by a truck...it's not fair..." 

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My Bzprpg ProfilesGhosts of Bara Magna

Skyra | Hakari | Oceanna | Taleen | Arisaka | Zanakra | Kaminari | Drakkar

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IC:

 

"Fair."

 

Kristen tested the word, her hands clenching into fists. Her blood boiled.

 

"It's not fair," Kristen mimed, a foul chuckle erupting from her throat, before turning into a laugh. She was dimly aware that this was the first time she had laughed in a long while.

 

"Hate it to break it to you, but life isn't fair," Kristen spat, "Did I ask to lose an arm? Did I ask to get turned into a rampaging ball of hate and murder? Did I ask for Joey Walker to come along and use me? Trust me, if there was a way to make things even and 'fair' I would have gladly taken your friend's place, but that's life and things aren't fair."

 

As the words left her mouth, Kristen realized that she did mean what she said. And what she said hurt. Why did she say that? Ashley was already sad because of a friend's death, and Kristen had just laughed at her.

 

The revelation noticeably dawned on her face. Kristen's own eyes watered as she was hit by regret. Then she hid her face so nobody could see her cry. Well, nobody except for the person sitting in front of her, and the voices in her head.

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IC:

 

"waga waga waga"

 

Brooklyn had set the phone on speaker and left it in the counter of her hotel's bathroom while she used both hands to clasp her bra and tussle with her hair. Even after she'd gotten remotely dressed, though, the wayward Ultimate left her phone behind and went out into the hotel room proper. She still flopped onto the bed and stared sullenly at the suitcase of clothes she'd brought with her from California. The weird financial Houdini everyone seemed to be able to pull - being able to afford going out to eat twice or three times a week even though none of them were employed - had never quite come to Brook. She'd barely had enough to make it out to California, and by now the money she'd made in California by printing nude pinups of Zack Summers [she'd never tell] and slinging them up and down the PCH had nearly dried up.

 

This hotel was gonna clean her out.

 

To boot, Brook had never been much of a dabbler in magic. She'd found a weak link or two, just enough to know the ring was magic and that there were people in the world who dealt with sorcery, but a girl like her finding one of those chuckles? Inconceivable! And now, on top of it, Jesika ahd come literally face to face with an incarnation of her brother - probably wearing the Satan Stumping Sapphire Circlet himself - and been slow on the draw.

 

grrrrrr

 

She didn't even feel like getting dressed today. That's how grumpy she was. And she loved clothes.

 

pfffffffffffffffbubububub.

 

When she'd finished making disgruntled motorboat noises with her mouth, she turned her head around the doorframe to the bathroom and yelled at her phone.

 

"How's it hanging, Jesika?"

 

-Tyler

  • Upvote 1

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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