(Untitled)

[easybreezyidiot]

[This evening, a girl is lying at the edge of one of the cornfields. She is dirty, her arms and legs are scratched and bloody, and her shoes are completely wrecked. At first glance, she appears to be passed out or - if you're a naturally paranoid person - maybe dead. :| Do you investigate?]

((eta SLOWING WAY DOWN and probably stopping for the

Comments

[easybreezyidiot]

My roommate, probably.

[easybreezyidiot]

No.

[runstowardsfire]

So what are you mad about?

[easybreezyidiot]

I'm not mad.

[runstowardsfire]

*take sin all your scratches and injuries--yeah, right*

You were angry at something . . .

[easybreezyidiot]

Just some douchey new guy who showed up.

[runstowardsfire]

Oh? And what did he do besides be unpleasant?

[easybreezyidiot]

... Nothing. I just don't like him. That's not a crime!

[runstowardsfire]

Yes, but everyone has reasons for disliking other people.

[easybreezyidiot]

Maybe that's true.

[runstowardsfire]

[Going to let this rest for now because it'll pop up again, she's sure.]

I can get you a hot drink while you change your clothes. It will help with the healing.

[easybreezyidiot]

Oh, hey, thanks, Hermione! That's real nice of you.

[runstowardsfire]

Tiffany. *goes to fix up a hot milk drink that should knock you right out*

[easybreezyidiot]

I know that!

[going to get changed /o/]

[runstowardsfire]

So why do you keep calling me Hermione?

*the cool thing about living here is that no-one has to start a fire to warm anything up*

[easybreezyidiot]

It's a nickname.