Crowley had grown weary of reading the books he'd gotten to take to Aziraphale in the clinic, so he sauntered into the rec room to do battle with the bookshelf. He had always believed that Good and Evil were just names of sides, but that was until he'd encountered the shelf and the jukebox. Leave it to Knowledge and Electronics to prove to him
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She'd noticed Claire lying on the floor, and at least she seemed to have found what she was looking for (... Violet had never been interested in romance novels- or perhaps she'd never had the time.)
Her brows knit as she made a noise of frustration, and then the radio started blaring some- some music-If you could call it that. "Eugh." She stood, and turned without realising that there was someone behind her, and she found herself nose-to-chest (why had she stopped growing when she was thirteen?) to ( ... )
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Because Violet was a smart girl, she cut that particular line of thought short. "H-Hello. I'm- I mean, I'm okay." She flashed a smile, her arms full of the books she'd rescued. "Sorry- I mean, I didn't mean to crash into you. Even though I didn't."
... Her brows knit. "... I should just start over. I'm Violet Baudelaire."
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He had a few scruples. Not many, but some.
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Oh, and her cheeks just got redder. "R-Right. Sunny. She's my sister." Sister. Sunny. Good to talk about instead of just looking at the guy who was talking to her and seeing JOHNNY DEPP out of the corner of her eye talking to- to some guy who looked like what would happen if you took the guy from Titanic and actually made him- well. Able to beat somebody up in a fight.
She swallowed, blinking as she looked back up at Jack. "Do you know her?" It seemed her sister knew a lot of people, which was a little sad. Not for Sunny, certainly, but-
Her two year old sister had a better social life then she did.
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He enunciated her name through the unending smile, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from her cheek. "Sorry, your hair got a little mussed."
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She looked a little bit like a deer in the headlights at the moment. "It's okay. The hair, I mean. It... usually gets... mussed." She wondered who actually used a word like 'mussed', anyway?
... Obviously, he did.
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"I- err- I was- I mean- The- the supports. Since we're closer to the beach I wanted to either sink them deeper to account for the instability of the ground and the increased windshear coming off the water, but I can't dig that deep- and I was thinking about making cement, and I can find the pumice but the bookshelf won't give me the right books, and finding enough wood for stairs- I'd originally hoped to make them out of metal, but there isn't any here ( ... )
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She almost wanted to ask him if he could help- she wasn't strong enough to get the supports to do what she needed them too, but he probably was- but Klaus would probably have a cat.
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