Mel grinned. Doughnuts were good. There was a guy in Versi who made 'em on the street, in a fryer. So good. Even better, he stayed open after the bar's last call. Few things were better than a doughnut once you were a pitcher of beer into your evening.
Physical therapy. Mel made a disgusted face. That sounded like a huge pain in the ass.
It was also something she would never have to contend with. She didn't heal faster than, say, vampires like Phaedra might. But she did heal faster than a human. The only time a slayer ever spent an extended amount of time in the hospital was when Faith Lehane landed herself in a coma. There wasn't a lot that slowed slayers down for long.
But being hurt DID suck. Mel remembered a dozen times she'd take a swan dive off of a building or a car and landed wrong. Often on her face.
She nodded emphatically.
Behind her, the slides were now in order. The machine was almost back together, thanks to the effort of one of the guys with an AXP on his chest. Mel was fuzzy on her Greek, but she knew that something about these guys had to do with blackbirds. Crows? Some had t-shirts with birds on them. She really didn't understand Greek life, and broke organizations into brackets based on their mascots, often deciding who she liked based on who'd win in a fight.
So far, she really liked the unicorn girls. Mainly because of her mummy encounter.
Unicorns were rocketship.
Mel started to wonder if the cane would make a decent weapon. It was weird--she missed the scythe when she didn't actively have it with her, or in her hand.