[ooc: I am sorry for spamming the comm, guys. >< But this might be the last weekend or week in general where I'll get to tag heavily, with school/work on the way. So I...decided to be crazy and make a multi-pup post. Tag in as many times as you'd like, with as many characters as you'd like! It's open like burning. ♥]
Anne Hamilton is wandering the
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She had been wandering through the city, trying to get a feel for her new home without actually interacting with people much. She had hoped to go as unnoticed as possible -- just wanting to observe more than anything else -- and for the most part, she manages to do just that. However, once she landed in the elevator, she not only isn't alone anymore, but stuck with someone she doesn't know.
It's starting to make her feel just a touch claustrophobic.
After about fifteen minutes of silence, she glances over and can't help but ask. "Does this happen often?"
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It's wrong. It's such an invasion of privacy, and people buy these books for entertainment when it's their lives.
She looks up when Bela speaks, giving her an apologetic smile. It moderately resembles a grimace, too. "I can safely say this is the first time it's happened to me."
She sets the book to the side. "Then again, the way this city likes to operate, it doesn't surprise me."
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"How does the city like to operate, exactly?"
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It frustrates her on occasion, to put it mildly.
"I take it you're new to Chicago. How long have you been here?"
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...well, whatever's going on, she clearly needs help. It's just there are so many people around and he can't exactly fly up there without calling unwanted attention to himself.
This has resulted in Ryo pacing back and forth underneath Phoebe's legs, wondering what he can do.
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These things always happen to her and she is not sure why. She could write a book about them all and would quite possibly have to split the book into two volumes.
"I AM NOT A CRIMINAL!" she assures him, still trying to wiggle her way back out of the window. It's working, for the most part.
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Well.
He can at least stand here and watch her just in case she falls. Which--
"You're going to fall," he points out helpfully.
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"Not if I'm careful!" she says reassuringly. She doesn't know why she is reassuring him since he doesn't seem all that concerned, but that's Phoebe for you.
"Just gonna move a little bit--"
The window budges and Phoebe falls directly into the dumpster nearby. A banana peel is on her head now.
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"And baby! You better believe I'm back! Back in the New York Groove!" He sings loudly and slightly off key as he walks. "Back! Back in the New York -- whoa!"
He spots Anne wandering just as she is about to step in front of a particularly fast vehicle speeding down Chicago's streets, and realizes that he clearly has no choice but to act. He lunges forward, throwing his arms around the girl's chest from behind, and yanks her out of the way of the oncoming car, placing her down on the sidewalk gently.
"You okay? That guy nearly ran you down."
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The emotions aren't her own and they feel foreign in her body. They're fading, but they fade too slowly for her liking. The guilt chokes at her, and at first she can't speak. It clogs her throat. She's only faintly aware of being pulled somewhere. "Uh...I don't--"
Sounds and street lights are distorted. Shawn's face is blurry, like she is seeing him through burning glass. It all undulates in her vision, blurring together to form a kaleidoscope of foggy colors.
Her feet are solidly placed on the ground, and Anne looks up at him, scarcely avoiding his gaze.
"I don't know how I got here."
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Shawn leads her over to one of the parked cars and helps her sit, before checking her eyes, trying to see if there is any kind of injuries he's missing. "I'm Shawn. What's your name?"
His mind is very quickly jumping to the different reasons for that particular reaction -- head trauma, drug use -- but there doesn't seem to be and bleeding or visible damage to her head, and she also seems pretty coherent. Which means it's just something he's gotta figure out.
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"...Anne." She swallows thickly past what feel like shards in her throat. She wipes at her wet cheek with the heel of her palm.
"I didn't--" Anne winces at the rough quality to her voice. "I didn't mean to."
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He figures that either way a dangerous creature is dead. Pride is something that can be repaired a lot easier than some body parts can. Castiel raises his hand and with a flick of his wrist, the dog is lifted off it's feet and tossed into the nearest wall, hopefully disorienting it long enough to make it somewhat easier to deal with.
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A perceptostatic Rift materializes once more within a world of brightness, engulfing Julian whole and spitting him back out for the last time seconds later. The man curses in Spanish before he unfurls to his full height. The wings push out of his back in one fell swoop, and he stands there in amazement as Castiel knocks the creature out with little to no effort.
"...That's one hell of a gift you have there, hermano."
They may be different sorts of angels, but an angel is an angel in Julian's mind.
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"It can be helpful on occasion." He lets his hand fall to his side when it seems that the dog isn't going to get up again and turns back to Julian with a nod. "Are you alright?"
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He keeps one eye on the three-headed dog, his attention mostly on Castiel now.
"...What day is it today?"
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Phoebe lets out a small eek at his question. She'd been hoping against hope no one would see her. Phoebe's hands are flattened against the floor of the room. She can't smooth down her skirt. Ianto may be getting an eyeful.
"I'm okay!" Phoebe assures, craning her neck to try and get a good look at whoever is asking. She fails horrifically. "This totally not what it looks like, by the way."
Only it is.
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"...Uh." Grimacing, Phoebe keeps wiggling furiously in place. The window is slowly, slowly starting to budge. The problem is she doesn't notice, as she is now ranting. "Well, yes. But! I used to live here. I left something in one of the closets. One of the landlords hates my guts so she wouldn't let me inside. There really is no reason for her to dislike me. I'm perfectly nice. Okay, so I called her a seventy-year old virgin with the face of a lizard one time but I totally apologized later! I still think if she ever got laid--"
The window budges for good and Phoebe shrieks, falling abruptly down below. It is a good thing Ianto is there to catch her!
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