Hurt. Things hurt. So many things hurt it was hard to pinpoint which one hurt the worse. Then her fingers twitched causing the raging pins and needles sensation which led to her arms jerking and she knew what hurt the most right now: her shoulders.
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A lithe, pretty woman rises and steps forward. She looks to be in her early 30s, but there's an intensity in her eyes that belays that.
Her wrists and ankles are bleeding. It's obvious she's pulled herself free from her shackles, and that the process was not without pain.
"I was afraid you'd not wake up," she says. Her accent is vaguely Trans-Atlantic, a little American, a little British. It's hard to tell. "That wouldn't have done at all."
She smiles, and there's something supremely confidant in the smile, something totally in control.
"I'm afraid we've never been formaly introduced, Ms. Zatarra. My name is Rose Psychic."
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She's wary as well. She knows she's heard John mention someone named Rose before but for the life of her she can't remember in what manner it was, though with John she can take a wild guess. But for all she knows, Rose could be working with Wotan and putting on a good show.
"Pleased to meet you. Um....where am I?"
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"Fawcett City, at a guess," she says. "Wotan was terribly disappointed that Richard wasn't carrying the actual Symbol of the Seven. Mind, he can only get it back if you freely give it, so it was a bit of a risk, but then, he's always doing foolish things like that."
She pulls a pin from her her hair and begins picking at the locks.
"Seems a lifetime ago he was a detective and I was his Girl Friday. Suppose it was."
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"Ok I'm trying to keep up with you here and kinda failing miserably. Where is Occ...uh, Richard?"
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