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luckyvalentine.livejournal.com) wrote in
paradisalost2011-08-28 08:32 pm
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Entry tags:
-66- Where Have All The Good Times Gone
[there's a big unladylike sneeze-- but luckily not on the journal itself. Don't worry. She at least has the decency to turn her head first.]
...I thought you can't get sick here! What is this... [cough. hack.] ...Isn't this supposed to be some sort of mysterious paradise, with a side of big scary monsters thrown in every once in a while?
Getting sick just doesn't fit any part of that image!
[another sneeze, and some metallic rattling]
This is just stupid. ...And who drew on all the walls?! Did we get another visit by robots who have nothing better to do with their time than sneak in and mess up our stuff? [wait, was that right?] ...Robot-suits, whatever. It's obnoxious. I hope this shit washes off...
And these castle-brand pills are worthless. You'd think a magical wish-granting fairyland would be able to come up with something better than this crap. [sniffle. groan.] ...It's cold in here... [and then the delightful sound of a cleaned and reassembled handgun cocking. Summer colds put someone in the mood to visit the shooting range. Watch out.]
...I thought you can't get sick here! What is this... [cough. hack.] ...Isn't this supposed to be some sort of mysterious paradise, with a side of big scary monsters thrown in every once in a while?
Getting sick just doesn't fit any part of that image!
[another sneeze, and some metallic rattling]
This is just stupid. ...And who drew on all the walls?! Did we get another visit by robots who have nothing better to do with their time than sneak in and mess up our stuff? [wait, was that right?] ...Robot-suits, whatever. It's obnoxious. I hope this shit washes off...
And these castle-brand pills are worthless. You'd think a magical wish-granting fairyland would be able to come up with something better than this crap. [sniffle. groan.] ...It's cold in here... [and then the delightful sound of a cleaned and reassembled handgun cocking. Summer colds put someone in the mood to visit the shooting range. Watch out.]
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She'd heard the rumors, skimmed past telling entries in the journal, couldn't quite forget what she'd seen from the windows of where she'd been holed up in her room in town that day... and still, the sound of that voice causes her stomach to chill dead and sink.
She uses a little bout of coughing to cover up the lengthy uncertain pause that would have been there otherwise. And then she just answers-- she tries not to think, tries to keep her voice light through the sniffling]
...Can you really blame me this time?
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Or were you even paying attention?
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[her only answer to all of it]
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[ It's not an offer he makes lightly. Not anymore. ]
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[she doesn't know why she could possibly want to know, and kicks herself a little after she asks. It's not like she has any intention of visiting him]
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[sounding extra pathetic with that stuffy nose]
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Nevermind.
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It's useless information unless you can get into the Peace Patrol's prison... I assume that's where I am, anyway.
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[again, she couldn't quite define why that would be the question she's asking. It almost made her sound concerned for him, when in reality it was maybe just seeking some sort of closure to the scene she'd glimpsed out her window.]
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Also interesting how futile that was, though.
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[she rubs her sore head]
They took your horns? [that certainly didn't sound like it that was currently the case]
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...How?
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It doesn't make any sense.
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