one-hundred-seventy.
So, City. You send me to some goddamn backwater town with monsters... spitting at me and fog of all things, and then you drag me back to thunderstorms and Christmas in June.
What do you want me to say, here? Other than make up your mind. Do you want me here or not? Jeez. I've said it before and I'll say it again: there are just too many people who want a piece.
I guess this isn't so bad. It's not like we're reaching Callisto levels yet.
And, hey, look, Ed made you, Spike.
Now, if anyone so much as touches me with a piece of snow...
((ooc: she's laughing at all you phools while she's outside. this makes me wish it was December. D:))
What do you want me to say, here? Other than make up your mind. Do you want me here or not? Jeez. I've said it before and I'll say it again: there are just too many people who want a piece.
I guess this isn't so bad. It's not like we're reaching Callisto levels yet.
And, hey, look, Ed made you, Spike.
Now, if anyone so much as touches me with a piece of snow...
((ooc: she's laughing at all you phools while she's outside. this makes me wish it was December. D:))