Motel Room de Cheap, Thursday, Late at Night
Z being the only girl and all, she'd somehow rated her own motel room. For privacy or something. She was currently sitting cross-legged in the middle of one of the beds, staring at everything she'd brought with her, spread out on the other bed. Because Z Delgado had just come to an important conclusion.
She wasn't doing this any more.
She just wasn't. This latest thing was just one thing too much. No parents, yeah, okay. Ostracized, used to it. Cop or jail, hey, that one was a no-brainer. Oh, yeah, we accidentally gave you powers, sorry, these things happened. But now there was no accidentally about it. They'd made her to a purpose and then they'd left her on the street. She'd take her chances with 2008, thanks.
Old habits died hard, and even though this was just supposed to be an overnight jaunt, she'd packed for at least a couple of days. You never knew what might happen. But she hadn't brought everything she'd need to run properly. She'd left her favorite jacket, and most of her money, for instance, was still in her underwear drawer back at Fandom High. But she had some, and she had her music player, which she was sure she could pass off as some off brand if she had to pawn it or whatever. It would do, she decided, tossing everything into her backpack. There were always ways to get what she needed.
She took a phone book out of the rickety wood laminate nightstand and paged through it, pausing only briefly in the Ds. She could call them, she thought, hear their voices, but she could also screw with history. Safer not to. Instead, she found the address of the bus station and set off, pausing only at the lobby to hand in her key before heading for the first bus for anywhere away from here.
((NFB, NFI, OOC OK, OMGWTFBBQ.))
She wasn't doing this any more.
She just wasn't. This latest thing was just one thing too much. No parents, yeah, okay. Ostracized, used to it. Cop or jail, hey, that one was a no-brainer. Oh, yeah, we accidentally gave you powers, sorry, these things happened. But now there was no accidentally about it. They'd made her to a purpose and then they'd left her on the street. She'd take her chances with 2008, thanks.
Old habits died hard, and even though this was just supposed to be an overnight jaunt, she'd packed for at least a couple of days. You never knew what might happen. But she hadn't brought everything she'd need to run properly. She'd left her favorite jacket, and most of her money, for instance, was still in her underwear drawer back at Fandom High. But she had some, and she had her music player, which she was sure she could pass off as some off brand if she had to pawn it or whatever. It would do, she decided, tossing everything into her backpack. There were always ways to get what she needed.
She took a phone book out of the rickety wood laminate nightstand and paged through it, pausing only briefly in the Ds. She could call them, she thought, hear their voices, but she could also screw with history. Safer not to. Instead, she found the address of the bus station and set off, pausing only at the lobby to hand in her key before heading for the first bus for anywhere away from here.
((NFB, NFI, OOC OK, OMGWTFBBQ.))