Gabby: Time for Bloody Hands
La de da
La de da de da da da
Well you can bump and grind
If it's good for your mind
Well you can twist and shout
Let it all hang out
But you won't fool the
Children of the revolution
No you won't fool the
Children of the revolution
No no
She stood in front of the mirror carefully, making a private ritual that had come to define her moments of greatest violence. She lifted her hair from her head and cut it away with her scissors, right above the scalp, leaving only a small, uneven amount remaining. Then she covered her head in shaving gel and scraped the rest away.
She got in the shower, and for good measure she took off her eyebrows too, as weird as that might make her look. Then she shaved away the slight down on her arms. She had gotten the nurse at the hospital to help her do her legs and armpits the night before she "died" so that didn't need to be worried. She looked down at her pubic hair and sighed. She hated this part - the brown curls were proof in her eyes that she really wasn't a child vampire, no matter what anyone said.
She placed the regret aside, and lathered between her legs, shaving her pubis and labia carefully, viciously focused so as to catch every hair... and to avoid the bite of the blade. Right now, she didn't need to bleed.
Well you can tear a plane
In the falling rain
I drive a Rolls Royce
'Cause it's good for my voice
But you won't fool the
Children of the revolution
No you won't fool the
Children of the revolution
No no
She pulled the underwear and the sports bra from their fresh packages, pulling them. She hoped she was used to the slight change her breasts created in her center of gravity by now. Next came on the gear they had matched to the opponents. She had needed to spend a few hours painstakingly resizing hers, and she worried that the effort it cost her would attach to the clothing, even if she had found someone to use Cleansing Impression.
The armor remained a bit too big - she was not going to interfere with it's tailoring unless she was back in her own work shop. She'd just have to cope. She stared again at her blurred features in the mirror, and scowled, running a hand over her head to make sure she hadn't missed anything.
La de da
La de da de da da da
La de da
La de da de da de da da da
La de da
La de da de da da da
La de da
La de da
Gabby sometimes wondered what it meant that she never felt much fear in these exercises, that somehow her concern for existence seemed to drain away when the time came for action. Even when she had been a lone terrorist, burrowing into buildings to leave behind seeds of destruction, she had found in danger moments of peace.
She picked up the new bag for Kitten, feeling the stiff fabric under her fingers, checking to make sure the snake could get some kind of purchase against it for the tenth time. It still seemed acceptable, and Kitten had even demonstrated. Still, she wanted to check. She took the hot pack out of the microwave, and put it in the bag, and the snake crawled from the bed into it.
You won't fool the
Children of the revolution
No you won't fool the
Children of the revolution
No you won't fool the
Children of the revolution
No you won't fool
No no
You won't fool the children
No no you can tie
The photographic tight
You won't make it
Oh la de da
Quietly, she shut the door and pulled forth the illusion of a young man in baggy pants and a t-shirt, and made her way to join the others again.
At least, she thought, if she died, one of the ti moun would be waiting for her in the waters. The thought was warm, and wet... and safe.
La de da
La de da de da da da
La de da
La de da de da de da da
La de da de da da da
Well you can bump and grind
If it's good for your mind
Well you can twist and shout
Let it all hang out
But you won't fool the
Children of the revolution
No you won't fool the
Children of the revolution
No no
She stood in front of the mirror carefully, making a private ritual that had come to define her moments of greatest violence. She lifted her hair from her head and cut it away with her scissors, right above the scalp, leaving only a small, uneven amount remaining. Then she covered her head in shaving gel and scraped the rest away.
She got in the shower, and for good measure she took off her eyebrows too, as weird as that might make her look. Then she shaved away the slight down on her arms. She had gotten the nurse at the hospital to help her do her legs and armpits the night before she "died" so that didn't need to be worried. She looked down at her pubic hair and sighed. She hated this part - the brown curls were proof in her eyes that she really wasn't a child vampire, no matter what anyone said.
She placed the regret aside, and lathered between her legs, shaving her pubis and labia carefully, viciously focused so as to catch every hair... and to avoid the bite of the blade. Right now, she didn't need to bleed.
Well you can tear a plane
In the falling rain
I drive a Rolls Royce
'Cause it's good for my voice
But you won't fool the
Children of the revolution
No you won't fool the
Children of the revolution
No no
She pulled the underwear and the sports bra from their fresh packages, pulling them. She hoped she was used to the slight change her breasts created in her center of gravity by now. Next came on the gear they had matched to the opponents. She had needed to spend a few hours painstakingly resizing hers, and she worried that the effort it cost her would attach to the clothing, even if she had found someone to use Cleansing Impression.
The armor remained a bit too big - she was not going to interfere with it's tailoring unless she was back in her own work shop. She'd just have to cope. She stared again at her blurred features in the mirror, and scowled, running a hand over her head to make sure she hadn't missed anything.
La de da
La de da de da da da
La de da
La de da de da de da da da
La de da
La de da de da da da
La de da
La de da
Gabby sometimes wondered what it meant that she never felt much fear in these exercises, that somehow her concern for existence seemed to drain away when the time came for action. Even when she had been a lone terrorist, burrowing into buildings to leave behind seeds of destruction, she had found in danger moments of peace.
She picked up the new bag for Kitten, feeling the stiff fabric under her fingers, checking to make sure the snake could get some kind of purchase against it for the tenth time. It still seemed acceptable, and Kitten had even demonstrated. Still, she wanted to check. She took the hot pack out of the microwave, and put it in the bag, and the snake crawled from the bed into it.
You won't fool the
Children of the revolution
No you won't fool the
Children of the revolution
No you won't fool the
Children of the revolution
No you won't fool
No no
You won't fool the children
No no you can tie
The photographic tight
You won't make it
Oh la de da
Quietly, she shut the door and pulled forth the illusion of a young man in baggy pants and a t-shirt, and made her way to join the others again.
At least, she thought, if she died, one of the ti moun would be waiting for her in the waters. The thought was warm, and wet... and safe.
La de da
La de da de da da da
La de da
La de da de da de da da