( There's a bit of a pause before anyone speaks. when the voice does start, though, it's pretty low. Flat, almost, like the speaker is tired, and her voice sounds pretty rough and husky-- and distinctly Australian. She sounds decidedly detached from what's just happened, considering it's her first entry. )So this place is Death City, huh?
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And you're not dead.
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Like you're one to talk about ridiculous accents.
( And a snort. ) Yeah, you'd say that, because if I'm dead, you're dead too.
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[Was that a horrible imitation? I think so.]
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( That directly conflicts with her incredibly bitter outlook on everything. ) Yeah, right. Australia's a real barrel of laughs.
( :| ) You shouldn't ever do that again.
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( Freaking Americans. )
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( . . . )
And who are you?
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I'm Santana.
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Santana. Great. Bugger off.
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Damn, girl, relax a little.
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( Le scowl. It is fierce. ) Ellie. I bet you weren't that relaxed when you turned up here.
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I didn't rant about dead animals. I didn't think I was dead, either.
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Hey, it's called Death City. I'm sure pre-death hallucinations could get this weird. Denial, or something.
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( Oh, well. ) Sounds a bit like a friend of mine, though.
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