[so, somewhere in one of the streets, there is a girl. she looks a bit confused-- and has been, for a while-- but it's fairly easy to notice she's mostly pretty frustrated. and upon holding up the "weapon" given to her on entry, she mutters one of the (many) reasons why:]
... What am I supposed to do with a fishing pole, anyway?
(ooc: aaaas a
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-- Oh, my name's Maka Albarn.
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