"You look a little lost," which has the virtue of being true and starts off as pretty inoffensive. Of course, coming from me, the likelihood of being offensive is pretty high, but here's hoping he doesn't know that.
"Well, you've got a few options around here," I point out as I lean back against the counter.
"There's Timeslips, which are nasty buggers if I do say so myself" and I do because trust me, I've seen some nasty things while stuck in them, "and then there's just your average, run of the mill dimensional weakness. This place has about as many holes as a wet paper bag, so you probably just wandered through one of them.
"Uh. Very?" Wyn glances up, slightly irritated. She knows she's short, no need to point it out all the time. (It gets old.) "Short enough to actually need three-inch heels, anyway."
Comments 57
More music, more sounds. More...people, even if only half of them smell as human as Carlisle would expect.
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"I'm not entirely positive how I ended up in such a place." After a beat, "The neighborhood, not the diner."
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"There's Timeslips, which are nasty buggers if I do say so myself" and I do because trust me, I've seen some nasty things while stuck in them, "and then there's just your average, run of the mill dimensional weakness. This place has about as many holes as a wet paper bag, so you probably just wandered through one of them.
"Got a name?"
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She rummages in a pocket for a coin, but-
"... dammit."
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"How short are you?"
Because I'm not really a fan of what's floating through the air either.
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"For the jukebox, lady," and point to the massive monstrosity of neon and paneling.
"How much do you need for the jukebox?"
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