((Link goes to a post in Mayday's journal. Didn't want to spam the comm with a socking.))
After a shower, a good night's sleep and
another awkward meeting, Jaime managed to get some breakfast and make his way to the Owlery without further incident
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Comments 54
That would be great, actually. There aren't many people here I can make fun of B.M.talk shop with! And I really appreciate you trying to find out more about my friends' situations.
I'm sorry too, but it's not your fault.
-Steph
P.S. This note is being delivered by my pet, Buff Orpington. You'll probably get to know him pretty well, because he gets jealous when I send things by regular owl. Don't let him near your food. Or pillowcases.
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I don't think there's anybody I can talk shop with at home. Nobody who gets it, anyway. You're welcome. Can't promise anything, but if anyone can find out this kind of thing, Nadia can.
I know, but... seems like every time I open my mouth lately, somebody gets hurt. Be nice to give someone GOOD news for a change, you know?
You free tomorrow? Let me know where you want to meet. Somebody offered to show me around, so maybe I'll know where it is and not have to ask a paranoid crazy guy for directions.
-Jaime
P.S. Did you know your chicken is a cannibal? That's just WRONG.
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It was such a change for me, coming here. I grew up on the flipside of the hero-gig, and capes were practically all my dad talked about. Then I sort of joined up with the B. Clan, so there were always people to talk to about it when I wasn't excommunicated.
Oh, man. Do I ever know that feeling.
I sure am! How's the Quidditch Pitch work for you? The season hasn't started yet, so there won't be a lot of people around.
-Steph
P.S. Well, he's technically a tree, in an existentialist sense. I don't think he considers the chicken his brother bird.
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Sounds like a long story. I was just stupid enough to pick up a rock that wasn't a rock... okay, that one's a long story too. Never mind.
Yeah, sometimes I think I just need flavored shoes.
Sure. Be nice to get outside.
-Jaime
P.S. ...A tree. Would you believe that explains a lot? Trees are a lot more vicious than people might think.
((Can we start a new thread in a day or two? Just to keep things in order.))
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Lola
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-Jaime
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I'll be there! Get ready to be dazzled by my tour guiding skills.
Lola
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Yeah, I guess it'd be hard to fly if an owl got too stuffed. But it's not the owls I'm worried about. Someone I met here uses a pet chicken to deliver mail. A chicken that eats like a Hoover and won't budge til you feed it. Or it'll try to eat your sleeve.
Bet I will. See you soon.
-Jaime
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The wind was making Lola's hair whip around her face, making her wish she had put it up in a ponytail or something, but it would just have to do until they could find a place to sit. It was a good thing that she wasn't cold. Angels didn't have to freeze, though sometimes they did forget that and got cold purely out of habit. She gave her hair an angry little glare and tried to keep it down as best she could, though it wasn't really behaving at all. Gah. Stupid hair.
She shrugged at his question. "Well, there are shops. I haven't checked them out yet. I'm pretty sure there's a clothes shop, but that's definitely robes and things." Because it wouldn't have been like Lola to not know where the nearest clothes store was. She nodded solemnly. "Not really my style." Oh, such a pity... Because hot new clothes within walking distance? Would have been sweet. Hm, they would have to go into London for Jaime's new clothes, probably... Oh, Lola had plans for him. Many, many plans ( ... )
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Hair blowing in the face? Now how could Jaime possibly identify with that? For his own part, he was used to it and could ignore it. His hair wasn't that long no matter what certain sociopathic invisible guys said. But he did have the brief, irrational urge to reach over and brush a strand of hair out of Lola's face as she fussed with it. He quashed the urge, but had to smile a little bit as she pushed it away again and glared at it ( ... )
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Not to mention that it was harder to think clearly on an empty stomach. And his mun was braindead last night. The last people he'd explained the story to who had no real frame of reference were his family and his two best friends, and those explanations hadn't gone too well. (Dani Garrett didn't count. Aside from the fact that her granddad was the last to use the scarab, the lady was so bugnuts the story barely fazed her.) He might explain some of it to Steph tomorrow, but she already at least understood the superhero part of it ( ... )
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