[There's a whole lot of jostling noises before the 'Gear, turned on in the hubbub, tumbles out of a small pile of clothes and lands on the bed, showing a jumble of items and ... general junk that Heather's allowed to accumulate in the hotel room.]
[There's a few crumpled paychecks, unfolded clothing, spare Potions and Pokeballs, and more than a few
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[Fang wouldn't mind being that Noctowl. :|a]
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And... yes.
... This wouldn't be a problem if I didn't need that bag.
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I don't want another bag.
She needs to get out.
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[... There's a pause, and then she figures she should probably give a more detailed answer than that.]
I have to head back to Violet.
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Going back to meet someone.
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[In a tone that says THAT kinda someone...~]
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A FRIEND. Of my DAD'S.
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[That tone doesn't believe you, Heather.]
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I'm just messin' with ya, kiddo.
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Yeah? Well-- that wasn't funny.
[Man, Heather's sense of humor seemed to disappear whenever she talked to Fang, didn't it? ... Or maybe it's just that THIS particular subject was touchy.]
[In actuality, it was that. Dead-daddy's possibly-also-dead friends were off-limits to joke about, man.]
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You like pull stuff on other people, but can't take a bit of your own medicine?
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[... Which was an incredibly flimsy argument, jeez Heather.]
Anyway, I'm meeting a friend of my dad's who just got here a few weeks ago.
Happy?
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