G O O D • N I G H T A dance, indeed. We had stayed outside, speaking of this and that, and it had become a rather pleasant conversation that the both of us could enjoy in a different way. He was a different person, somehow, when he had let off on his usual raging intensity. We would have to dance another time, it seemed, but that was entirely fine with me. He still wanted to know about that morning, in the kitchen, but I wasn't letting him have his way so easily. No, he would have to perform a little to be rewarded . . . So far, he was doing quite well; I'm thoroughly enjoying myself. We lingered in silence for a long time, but eventually, I noticed a slow pattern to his breathing. I look over, and, of all things, I see him asleep. I let out a soft laugh. Monsters sleep peacefully, do they? I should have thought as much. An idiot such as himself would have the grace of falling asleep in such a place where he could very well get sick. I look out to the drive and see my car, then open the door. He's not so very heavy, is he? For a beast, anyway. I lay him in the back of the car, and then drive back home. As both of our clothing are terrible death traps, I strip him to his underwear, taking no care in noticing what he looks like, and then drape a blanket over himself as he snores on the living room couch. I'm not sure which of him I like more; his sleeping self, or his awake self. I laugh again. ❝Spokoynoy nochi, zverya. Happy New Year.❞ I hang away our clothing, grab a blanket of my own, and comfortably snuggle up on the couch opposite of him, then removing my glasses and fall.
⎛ DAY 11 ‖ 4/4 ⎠ ☁ ⎛ DATE ‖ DECEMBER 31ST ⎠ ☁ ⎛ LOCATION ‖ BEDROOM • PIERCE'S HOUSE ⎠ ⎛ MOOD ‖ SULKING / EMOTIONAL ⎠ ☁ ⎛ ❤!! ‖ 0% ⎠ ☁ ⎛ WEARING ⎠ ❝ＹＯＵ'ＲＥ ＤＲＵＮＫ，ＳＯＰＨＩＥ ＢＥＮＮＥＴＴ.❞ A part of her was disappointed to see Oliver go. She had come to think of him as more than a nuisance to her relationship with Pierce. It hadn't been clear to Sophie before, but this situation in front of her was definitely that of "divide and conquer". Since he had left, Pierce might actually be upset with her — and not in the usual way that Sophie could smooth over. That was fine; she wasn't happy either. They would both be in bad moods for the rest of the night. Would this threaten their date to the spa tomorrow? She hoped not. The rest of the night was quiet, short as it was, and Pierce cleaned up her hand. She then got sick, but Sophie said nothing. She wondered what was wrong and tried not to think of how she might have messed up her friend's night with a boy she obviously liked. No regrets. Divide and conquer. she told herself, but couldn't bright that to lighten her mood or make her feel better. Originally, Sophie planned on sleeping on the couch in the living room, but she let off on that when she saw what a terrible state Pierce was in. The two girls eventually climbed into bed together and lights went out. Sophie turned off the playing television after Pierce bid her goodnight. With a sigh, she leaned over Pierce and planted a kiss on her cheek. ❝Good night, Pierce. . . . I'm sorry.❞ Before drifting off herself, she hoped that Pierce had been a sleep by the time she said the last part.
⎛ DAY 11 ‖ 4/4 ⎠ ☁ ⎛ DATE ‖ DECEMBER 31ST ⎠ ☁ ⎛ LOCATION ‖ KITCHEN • PIERCE'S HOUSE ⎠ ⎛ MOOD ‖ SULKING / EMOTIONAL ⎠ ☁ ⎛ ❤!! ‖ 0% ⎠ ☁ ⎛ WEARING ⎠ ❝ＹＯＵ'ＲＥ ＤＲＵＮＫ，ＳＯＰＨＩＥ ＢＥＮＮＥＴＴ.❞ When footsteps were cautiously nearing the kitchen, Sophie was once again cleaning her hand. It would have been a good idea to look for bandages, maybe, but she wasn't in the mood to even get up. Before she went to bed, after Oliver left, she would ask for bandages. They were probably in the rest room, but she didn't want to go anywhere near them . . . Not for the moment. Someone padded into the kitchen just as she licked some blood off and then took a drink of milk. ❝Oh, ugh. It's you.❞ Why Pierce, you sound like — She looked over the rim of her glass before setting it down. That wasn't Pierce. Oh, how wonderful, it was Oliver. She gave him a wave with her bloodied hand, not even registering that she used the wrong hand. ❝It's Sophie.❞ Oliver's face turned red, he turned away, and Sophie frowned. What was his . . . Oh. she thought after looking down at herself. She heaved a sigh and then rolled her eyes, but didn't bother to fix her dress since she only had one hand available. Blood was a hard stain to get out, only Lucas seemed to know how, and he never let her watch. ❝Forgive my indecency.❞ she told him, gazing at his back. ❝But I can't fix it at the moment.❞ She stood from the counter, grabbed the milk from the fridgerator again, and then poured more into the cup, setting it back into the microwave for thirty seconds. Beep. Beep. Beep. ❝Pierce, I accidentally broke a bottle of vodka. Forgive me. There wasn't much left in it anyway . . .❞ She sighed, and reached for the cup with her uninjured hand. ❝It will help me sleep.❞ she then said, pouring a different type of alcohol into it, just a table spoon or so. ❝S - Sophie, I thought — ❞ Sophie turned around and saw Pierce gripping Oliver's sleeve. She didn't reply immediately, but Pierce moved to fix Sophie's dress. ❝S - Sophie, you reek. Is that - Is that vodka?❞ ❝Yes. It will help me sleep.❞ she answered plainly. Pierce glanced back at Oliver and Sophie momentarily narrowed her eyes before returning to her bored look. ❝Wh - What happened to the p - party?❞ ❝Pierce, I said I wasn't going to the party.❞ she replied patiently. ❝Y - You should pr - probably lie d - down . . .❞ Pierce tried to grab her. ❝Pierce, I can walk. I fell off the counter.❞ She showed the other girl her bleeding hand. ❝I have a high tolerance for alcohol, unlike — . . .❞ She cleared her throat and grabbed her mug of milk. She scanned Pierce's face; the girl was obviously embarrassed. Embarrassed because of Sophie? Embarrassed because Oliver was witnessing this? ❝. . . Sorry for interrupting your -❞ What would she call it? A date? Get together . . . Time? Sophie didn't know. She glanced between Oliver and Pierce, ❝- . . . Whatever you're doing. Would you like me to leave? I need bandages . . .❞ She cast her pale eyes to the ground, almost like she was sulking, and bit the inside of her lip, the burning feeling in her nose coming back God, what was with her emotions tonight. She sniffed and began walking out of the kitchen. Her dress fell open again; the clip must have been broken from the fall. She rolled her eyes, the tears starting to retreat. Suffice to say, Sophie didn't feel great, and her hand was still bleeding. Lucas . . . She thought about calling him but he was probably too busy with . . . something else.
⎛ DAY 11 ‖ 4/4 ⎠ ☁ ⎛ DATE ‖ DECEMBER 31ST ⎠ ☁ ⎛ LOCATION ‖ KITCHEN • PIERCE'S HOUSE ⎠ ⎛ MOOD ‖ VARIOUS ⎠ ☁ ⎛ ❤!! ‖ 0% ⎠ ☁ ⎛ WEARING ⎠ ❝ＹＯＵ'ＲＥ ＤＲＵＮＫ，ＳＯＰＨＩＥ ＢＥＮＮＥＴＴ.❞ Sophie wasn't sure where she had spent the day, but it had gone by quickly. She moved from place to place, from park to store, from here to there. It all passed in a blur. She had taken a shot or five and was now parked in front of Pierce's house, ready to walk in. She had thought about going home, but the thought of looking at Lucas, and him looking back at her, with that face, with those eyes. And the dining room . . . She violently shook her head, and leaned back against the car, taking a deep breath. She really needed to pull it together. How was Pierce? The empty bottle of rum she once found . . . Drunk together, eh? There was nothing better than being drunk together with a friend, and . . . . . . Whose car was that? Sophie straightened out and narrowed her pale eyes at it. Her mood shifted to a more negative scale, and she made her way up to the door, grabbing the spare key from the small black handbag and unlocked the door, and immediately taking off her shoes. There was noise coming from the living room — the television was on? Her fingers worked at the large black buttons of her dress-coat and she stopped short of the living room to peek around the wall. No one there. The sound was more distant and she walked toward's Pierce's bedroom. The door was slightly cracked open, and light was coming from in there. She tilted her head to get a better look. Oh. It was Oliver. Pierce invited Oliver over. Emotion suddenly washed over Sophie and a tight feeling grew in her throat. She played it up to the rather emotional day, but seeing Oliver here was giving her unacceptable feelings. Unacceptable. Unacceptable. She didn't want him here. She wanted Pierce here, sitting next to her, and holding hands or something. She needed human comfort, and it was only Pierce that could give her. She considered the methods. No, she was far too exhausted to consider the methods. The black dress-coat was hung on the coat rack, and the black heels were set there by the door. Perhaps it was a bad idea to come here. Sophie thought to herself, walking into the oddly-designed kitchen. Still . . . I have nowhere else to go. Well, that wasn't true. She grabbed a mug and the jug of milk, and poured herself some, then set the mug in the microwave. Her eyes scanned the area for vodka. Did they have vodka? Surely they would, if they had rum enough for Pierce to drink. Aha. There, on top of a cabinet. Short little Sophie climbed on top of the counter and grabbed the clear bottle, sat on the counter, and hopped — CRASH. Sophie laid on her back, on the kitchen floor, staring up at the dim light. My hand is bleeding . . . she thought to herself, looking over. The microwave beeped. Her hand burned; the vodka bottle was broken open and some of the liquid seeped into the cuts on her hand. What a waste. Her black dress had become undone and was now open at the front, clearly showing her lacy undergarments. Whatever . . . Her mood turned even more sour as she salvaged what she could of the bottle, poured the liquid into the mug of hot milk and set it on the counter, inspecting her mess. Ten minutes later, she had it cleaned, and was washing off her bloodied hand. You're drunk, Sophie Bennett. she thought to herself, not bothering to redo her dress. She took a seat at the counter and began to drink her spiked milk.
Maybe! KHV has a lot of wonderful artists/GFX artists, but I think you'll fit in just fine, especially since you have such a great avatar. If you're into roleplaying, you should definitely check out some of the ones linked in people's signatures, or in the RPA, where Jayn-hime is regnant. Since you're competent enough, it should be fun to have you join!
N*Sync-kun, it's you! I'm late on this, but I didn't see you join, I'm really glad you did. ♥ If we ever watch The Box again god forbid this please, you should definitely join us. I hope we see you around. c:
I'm forced to recall the time when it was about 1:00am, and I looked over to my door just in time to see a large roach enter my room and then nearly head into my closet, which would have been awful. I then spent the next four hours trying to kill it, panicking, and not going near my bed, which it had crawled under. What a terrible night. I hate bugs.
P A N T H E R • A N D • T I G E R I watched TORVALD mutter something to MARIA, which he meant for me not to hear. Most likely something ridiculous, but I stayed and smiled where I was. ❝I know well enough why you are here, you bloody murderer. WE SHALL, AS THEY SAY, DANCE.❞ I laugh. ❝Dancing with a beast? They say that, in their own ways, beasts have grace. Do you, tigr?❞ The monster grasps my hand tightly and I'm pulled up from the couch, and then let myself be dragged out of the living room and towards the door. Such ferocity, this one has, but I suppose we are both eager to tear at each other. The door swings open and we are stopped short by the sight of a young man with cherry-red hair. TUCKER, yes. That was his name. I immediately recall that he spent much of the night with MARIA during the Christmas party at home. It makes sense that he would come. We didn't stop to say hello. I was thrust out the door, but did not let go of the beast's hand. The momentum forced us both to the ground. Apparently, we were not the only to to go down. TUCKER was laying in the snow, next to us, but his presence was of little matter to me. MARIA began to yell at the two of us, but her annoying voice was drowned out by my not caring. I valiantly held on to the beast's hand. There was a door slam, and then it was quiet. I laughed. Perhaps they looked silly, laying in the snow as it were, but it was such an unexpected turn of events that Lucas felt the need to laugh. ❝See what you've done, you ungraceful feline? Now we're both turned out.❞ He laughed again. Not that I mind. He sat up and finally let go of TORVALD's hand. It had been warm. He was a hot-blooded creature, so what else did Lucas expect? A car pulled up, and the two young men were still ridiculous. Lucas stood and reached for TORVALD, grabbed his hand once more, and forcefully pulled him up. ❝If we're going to make a spectacle of ourselves anyway, we might as well begin with looking respectable. Perhaps we could settle this elsewhere?❞ He looked at him square in the eye, ❝You do, after all, owe me a dance.❞ He waved at the occupants in the car, not knowing who they were.
E M P A T H Y • A N D • A P A T H Y The funeral had been rather damper and emotional, for the families who had attended. I spoke to none of them, and seeing as none of them truly knew the full story, they hardly paid mind to myself. There was nothing I could say to them that would ease their pain, and there was much matter in wasting time for nothing. FATIME wasn't here, although I had called her this morning. She was speaking to no one, trapped in that small sphere of her own creation that was filled with regret, shame, and torment. She might have wished me to be there for her, and I would not mind that in the least, but what have I to say to her? We did not intend for them to die, it was not even in our line of sight, but it happened, and now it has passed. I decided I would call her soon. Towards the end of the service, SOPHIE and myself were the final pair to make a speech, each separately. I somehow found myself dissatisfied with SOPHIE's speech, perhaps because she was outwardly displaying far too much emotion, but that was a part of her character; to sometimes appear to have the deepest regret for what has happened. My speech was far less emotionally constructed, and more logical, though I did appeal to them, spinning logic that so many emotional humans hate into something they could bear to hear — want to hear, even. MARIA HARTWICK having a party this evening. Who would have a party after a funeral? I come to think of Dias de los Muertos, a holiday where the Mexicans celebrate the dead; as if passed lovers, children, parents, relatives, friends were not something to mourn, but something to be joyous over, as they have moved on. I rather enjoy that perception. Still, to throw a soireé only hours after a funeral has taken place seems rather unorthadox. Perhaps it was pre-planned. Lucas uncrossed his legs and stood from the leather-bound seat in the library, giving a stretch. It echoed off the walls and the numerous shelves of books, and perhaps even throughout the house. No one else was home besides himself; he assumed SOPHIE was returned to PIERCE's house, though for what, he didn't know. There wasn't much else for him to do, so he would be rather bored without any company. Briefly, he considered attending MARIA's party; who would be there? He almost — almost — wanted TORVALD to be here. There was still so much for them to do together, to talk about. He loathed that beast, and it was his dearest wish to see him put down — no, to put him down himself. What pleasure that would bring him. Chain up the beast, discipline him, and if all else failed, destroy him. Destroy his purpose, his whole entire being — everything about him. Lucas rather liked the thought. . . . It would probably be better to know more about his enemy before working him inside out. Lucas decided he would attend MARIA's party, just to see the beast, and if he was there. I have to force myself to remember this is not my home, and that I must not attend to the needs of everyone present. It's fine. I'm able to control myself. The car door opens, I walk the path to the door, and then knock. It's answered a few moments later, by MARIA, herself, and she lets me in, showing me to the living room. Ah . . . I smile. There he is, the foul red monster. My focus is completely on him; I hardly notice that anyone isn't present. ❝Good evening, tigr.❞ I greeted, and take a seat on the adjacent couch. The home is nice, and I particularly like the living room. The color scheme avidly reminds me of my sister, save the actually color in it, perhaps. ❝I didn't expect you to come, considering you might want to do something to bolster our fallen comrades, rather than sit about. It's not like you.❞
⎛ DAY 11 ‖ 1/4 ⎠ ☁ ⎛ DATE ‖ DECEMBER 31ST ⎠ ☁ ⎛ LOCATION ‖ FUNERAL HOME ⎠ ⎛ MOOD ‖ WEARY ⎠ ☁ ⎛ ❤!! ‖ 0% ⎠ ☁ ⎛ WEARING ⎠ ❝ ＩＦ ＯＮＬＹ ＦＯＲ ＰＥＡＣＥ ＯＦ ＭＩＮＤ . ❞ Sophie had been spending a lot of time with Pierce, and nearly no one else. Every now and then, Lucas would check in with her, and warn her of getting "too attached" to the girl and the other side not being able to make up. Suffice to say, Sophie wasn't happy with him. What did he mean by telling her that? It was upsetting. Annoying. They had plans for New Year's Day, she and Sophie, and . . . Well, while Pierce wasn't on guard ( which was when she was either showering, sleeping, or completely busy with something else ) Sophie had decided to take a peek through her phone. What harm could that do? None, as it only helped Sophie to find out that after they went to the spa together, she and Oliver would go ice skating the next day. Wouldn't it be just wonderful if she had coincidentally showed up at the same ice rink? Sophie thought so. Maybe. She had left Pierce's house early that day for preparations for the funeral. Her parents would have no say so or complaints about anything because she paid for it out of her own pocket, with her own hard work. Morbid as it sort of was, she was proud that she was able to fester something like this out by herself. With a little help from Lucas — but only a little. . . . Walking into the funeral home had been very strange. The weight of what had happened in her home didn't exactly feel heavy until she saw the four bodies displayed, and the families in attendance morning. When she walked down the side wall to avoid attention ( for once ), she felt weak in the legs and sat down for just a moment and took a deep breath. She had to remember to count to calm down, and then when she stood up, there was Lucas. ❝When did you get here.❞ she murmured, more as a statement than a question. ❝I was the first here, Nico.❞ he replied, and offered her his arm. Reluctantly, she took it. He led her across the hall, to one of the further back pews, and he sat down, but she did not join him. ❝I was heading to give my condolences. You know, where you express emotion?❞ She didn't catch it, but after he took her coat, and began walking towards the front again, his face flashed with a glare. Sophie walked towards Ms. Duvont, and saw Richie's twin brother, Ryder. She didn't look at him, but quietly offered her apologies to the mother, who received them coolly, but still hysterical. She tried to remain unfazed. Next was Seraphina's parents, the mother of which lashed out at her, and said many terrible things about her and her family ( Sophie had to agree with most of them, but it was better not to provoke, this once ) until her husband wrangled her in and accepted Sophie's well-wishing with a small bit of haughty gratitude. By the time Sophie returned to Lucas, her face was jaded and her person was weary. She suddenly craved comfort, and found it in the form of Lucas holding her hand. His were cold, but that was fine. Anything was fine right now. The service would start soon.
My computer is having serious issues, and I'm not going to be able to post pretty much . . . at all until I figure out what the **** I'm supposed to do, so my activity will be seriously lacking until the problem is solved. Sorry for any and all conveniences. ; ~ ;
As known, my computer is having serious issues, and I'm not going to be able to post pretty much . . . at all until I figure out what the **** I'm supposed to do, so my activity will be seriously lacking until the problem is solved. ; ~ ;
* dies all over profile *
W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I C MOOD ※ SIGH ✖ DAY 11 ※ 3/5 ✖ DATE ※ 10/02/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ LILIAN'S HOUSE • ALBANY, NY [/url]❝I do not have a stick up my butt. There's just kind of a lot going on if you hadn't figured that much out.❞ Hay Sun snorted, and grabbed three more cookies after finishing her first two. What could she say — her mom used to bake her these kinds of cookies when she was little. They were her favorite. Red and Cass talked of a more private place to go. Hay Sun caught Cass glancing at her phone and saw that she was searching up something on Google, something starting with "Meta". Before she could get a better look, the phone was pocketed and the two of them followed her to another area where a bunch of comfortable looking seats were. ❝Ugh, I hate whispering . . . You can talk as you normally would in here because of the glass windows . . .❞ Hay Sun looked at them and then shrugged. She hadn't planned on whispering anyway, even if there were kids sleeping. A cookie was grabbed by Red and eaten, then she began to talk, using that sugar sweet voice of her that made Hay Sun kind of want to cut out her tongue. ❝Do you know who you are, Cassandra? Hay Sun is the Archangel Uriel - ❞ She rolled her eyes and bit into her cookie with annoyance. ❝ - My real name is Xathanael. I go by Hana for convenience's sake. Humans use . . .❞ Something about nicknames that Hay Sun didn't care about. Then again, she had a nickname, too — and it wasn't Uriel. Hay Sun leaned forward, and put out her hand, ❝I probably won't be much help here, but I did come all the way from France to see if any of this crazy shit is true — granted, I was basically kidnapped, but that's beside the point.❞ She sighed, ❝Even I gotta admit, there's something kind of nutty going on, and there's this guy named Danel who's bad news, and he might be after us.❞ She sighed and rubbed her face. Was she actually trying to convince Cass to come with them? This was getting ridiculous. She stood from the couch and motioned for Red to keep talking while she strode about the room in an anxious fashion. There was a lot to think about here, and some of her questions had been answered. Red said that the rest was up to her, that she needed to believe in order to tap into the so-called 'powers'. Secretly, she had been trying. Part of her believed that she could do something. There had been things, every so often, that kind of just . . . happened, without explanation. Mostly when she was hopped up on her emotions or something she liked. When she drank too much tea, or maybe coffee. Candles would randomly light, or go out. She would jump in the air and maybe hover for a split-second longer. Small bits of frost, barely there, would appear if she hit something with anger. Since there was never really much to explain these things, she didn't have much reason to take stock in them. But now there was this, and where was her doubting resolve? Slowly dissolving. ❝What I mean is, if you decide not to come with us, he might get to you.❞
Because Saxima is in terrible shape and is on the verge of dying, each of her characters went to sleep in respective places that would be elaborated on when her health was far more acceptable and less feverish. She hopes that you will understand.
W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I C MOOD ※ SIGH ✖ DAY 11 ※ 3/5 ✖ DATE ※ 10/02/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ LILIAN'S HOUSE • ALBANY, NY [/url]As much driving as there had been, Hay Sun enjoyed it, even if it was along side a bunch of freaks and their angel nonsense. Paris was a big and mostly crowded city, and trips to the country were rare; she never had so much time to speed along an empty, inactive highway on her motorcycle. If she had to guess, it was the next best thing to flying. It what felt like almost no time at all ( it had actually probably been a few hours ), their misfit group was pulling up to a neighborhood and Hay Sun slipped her keys into her pocket and put the lock code on without Paco seeing it. She didn't trust him to not run off with it — after all, if she was him, she would, too. She fell instep with Red. ❝. . . I think it would be good for just Hay Sun and I to go.❞ Hay Sun shrugged in reply, but that probably was the better option, considering that not all of them looked presentable. She looked back at Red and saw her wince while shrugging on her backpack. Considering her pale complexion, she probably had a sunburn. ❝Got any aloe? I hear it helps.❞ she commented as the two of them began to walk. The rest of their short trip was filled with silence, but Hay Sun didn't care much. Red didn't want to talk, that was fine with her. They stopped in front of the door and neither of them moved. Was she going to knock, or what? She was taking too long, and Hay Sun was getting irritated. I thought pickin' up the 'angels' was important. A few sleepin' people shouldn't stop you. Eventually, Red knocked, and the two of them waited for a moment. The door opened and the two girls were met with a pale, smiling face. Hay Sun thought it was Cass and nearly allowed herself to smile with excitement. ❝You must be Cassandra's friends . . . Come on in ~ ❞ Her sister? Must've been a morning person. She ran over to another girl down the way who was far prettier and had more vibrant eyes, though she looked more tired than the other. They seemed to argue about something, and then the second girl ( who Hay Sun was now guessing to be Cass ) ran back into the kitchen. Hay Sun glanced at Red and then shrugged, simply walking into the house and through to the kitchen. ❝Sorry . . . I'm not sure how long you've been driving or if you have eaten yet, but would either of you like a cookie?❞ Hay Sun looked at the platters of cookies. Christ, that was a lot of cookies. They looked, they smelled freshly baked, too. . . . Not to mention, they were snicker doodles. She smiled, ❝Don't mind if I do,❞ she replied, grabbing two of them, and then she looked back up at the girl, ❝You're Cassandra, I hope?❞ she asked, and then extended her hand, ❝I'm Hay Sun. It's really great to meet you. This is Red, but she prefers Hana, the head of our little god squad. She's got a bit of a stick up her ass, but maybe you'll get along with her better than me.❞ She grinned.
W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I C MOOD ※ SIGH ✖ DAY 11 ※ 2/5 ✖ DATE ※ 10/02/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ GAS STATION • NEW JERSEY [/url]There was a long silence, and for a angering-long moment, Hay Sun thought Cass was going to hang up. Her face went hard. ❝Do you all want me to cook you something?❞ . . . Was that a genuine response, or was she just being a smartass? Hay Sun forced herself to remain calm, trying to see which one it was. Considering their last conversation, Cass didn't seem like the smartass type, and she wouldn't be overtly rude to Hay Sun, would she? Okay, probably not. ❝. . . I wouldn't sweat that.❞ she finally replied, her tone controlled and casual, ❝But so long as you're willing to hear us out, that's good enough to get Red over here off my ass. Albany, you said?❞ She glanced over at the magical compass Red had, ❝Don't worry about an address, we'll find you. See you then, Cass.❞ With a farewell in place, Hay Sun ended the call, and then looked over to Red, ❝Albany, she said. She's staying with a friend's family. Looks like we're hitting the road again?❞ She popped open a can of Dr Pepper.
W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I C MOOD ※ SIGH ✖ DAY 11 ※ 2/5 ✖ DATE ※ 10/02/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ GAS STATION• NEW JERSEY [/url]❝Oy Hay Sun, I am glad to hear from you again, I really am, but it is extremely early in the morning.❞ Cassandra was whispering and Hay Sun surmised that she was with someone else. She internally cringed. Like she said, the timezones thing was still taking a little getting used to. ❝I know, I know,❞ she replied, slightly sheepish, ❝United States timezones are very strange to me.❞ Cassandra said something to someone else, and then there was a bit of rustling. She then explained that there was an attack in Manhattan, and that they had evacuated the city. Hay Sun bit her lip at this because it seemed like it had been a pretty shitty experience. When she was told that Cass was taking up refuge in Albany ( the capital of New York, Hay Sun learned ), she mouthed that to Red, and then continued to listen. ❝. . . about me, though . . . You said you were looking for me? Are you in the US? Where are you? You don't have to answer any of it, of course, but if you are in America, that must have been one hell of a flight check . . .❞ Hay Sun openly laughed, switching leaning positions against her motorcycle. ❝It's a long story, but yes, I'm in the US. New Jersey, actually. Not too far from yourself, I think? I don't know the specific geography very well.❞ she said, filling up a bit of conversation. A short silence lingered, and then she continued after sighing, switching modes, ❝Look, this is gonna be a tough pill to swallow, I'm here with a ragtag team of secret agents who are bent on saving the world. Remember when I first called you, about angels? Yeah, they — we — I . . . think it's all true. Turns out, you're like me, and the rest of us.❞ She laughed with irony, tiredly running a hand through her black hair. God, she really was starting to keel over on this damn thing . . . She glanced over at Red and repressed a glare. ❝Either way, we're coming to see you, and we should be there, soon. You won't have to come with us, but the situation will be explained more.❞
"Prepare your anus," the malevolent Prince Saximus says with a grin as she whips out her most secret weapon. A mighty sword known far and wide by one name . . . The Strap On.
And get this, here are some rules for pulling off a filibuster in the Texas Senate: Which is what makes Davis all the more admirable, to have pulled that off for as long as she did.
