[after the clinic, being holed up in her room for just about a week is all she can take. Finally feeling like she can walk around without falling apart-- physically or otherwise --she wastes no time in setting out.
...but not before she takes care of a little something, first. Sitting down, she takes a breath, and begins. No preface, no introduction, she just dives in before she can change her mind.]
I'm going to say this once.
No one is taking me to jail; I'm not going on trial.
...If anyone has a problem with me, they can deal with me themselves, in person.
[former Apostles]
[she doesn't know what they're really like, doesn't know anything about them... but she's decided that it doesn't matter]
Cowards. Where are you?
[yeah. she totally just went there.]
[/filter]
[with that done, she grabs her smokes, her journal, and her gun... and heads out]
((ooc: She's heading down to the clinic to get her stitches removed, and then heading out into town. Anyone is more than free to run into her, in any manner they wish, anywhere along this path))