Emily (
iluvroadrunner6) wrote in
roadrunnermuses2013-11-23 04:34 pm
Entry tags:
the EMILY HAS CONQUERED NANO open post

Comment here with a character. Any character. If you want a specific one of mine or verse put that in the subject line. If you have a particular prompt, leave it in the comment section. If you leave it blank, you will be subject to my
Have fun, kids.

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Probably not for the reasons you're thinking.
See, the problem with bars not putting big, neon, "NO WANDERER ALLOWED" signs on their front door, is that when a Wanderer sympathizer (though it's a really like Wanderer apathetic, Alexander doesn't particularly care one way or another) and his Wanderer friend walk in, looking for a drink and find big heaping glasses of animosity instead. Alexander doesn't really do well with animosity.
Probably why he's sporting the black eye he is right now. At least the cops were nice enough to get him an ice pack.
He leans back against the wall with a groan, trying not to focus too much on how he hurts. That will heal up soon enough. He takes a breath, and then glances over to Billie. "You okay?"
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She's used to being the black sheep -- she was at home as well, there was a reason she didn't tell anyone what she could do, she doesn't actually enjoy being blamed for the earthquakes and other natural disasters she accidentally causes. But in Chicago people hat ever regardless of that, just because she exists. There is something incredibly disheartening about that.
Her palms are flat against the bench she's on, the slightly smell of burning wood surrounding her. Her handprints are going to be etched into the bench when she moves. "I'm fine. I'm sorry I insisted we go out tonight. Beers and Breaking Bad was a better plan."
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"It's the douchebags who can't keep their mouths shut that were the problem."
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She sighs softly, brushing her bright hair back from her face and tips her head back. Lockup is not a good place for her -- she needs a cigarette, she needs a drink, she needs something to do with her hands and her mouth or she's going to set the jail on fire and kill everyone in it, including her and Alexander probably. "I lied, not okay. Can you... distract me or something, like quickly. Before I do something... fucking impossibly stupid."
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"Alright. Let's play a game."
He isn't sure what that game is going to be yet, but he's getting there.
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"Maybe it's 'cause I've got brothers but a 'game' in county seems like it could end badly." Granted most games in the Mosse family ended with booze and bloodshed, but still. A game in jail... okay, she is definitely interested.
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"I Spy. But with stakes."
Gambling stakes, not life threatening stakes.
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His eyebrows climb a little curiously at the mention of a kiss, a smirk crawling across his features as he nods. "Works for me. Do you want to go first or should I?"
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"You, so I can get a hang of the game."
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He rubs his hands together glancing around the room. "I spy something that is ... brown."
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"The bench we're sitting on?" A beat. "Oh, if you mean the uniforms I'm going to punch you. That is too obvious, it shouldn't count."
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