| The Family Tree |
[28 Apr 2008|12:35am] |
One, two, three... sliiiiiide.
One, two, three... sliiiiide.
It was ten o'clock and the lights in Searchlight's tiny bowling alley had gone dim. The only staff member left behind was Whistler, entrusted with closing up shop. He was in a back room, probably locking cash in a safe; She didn't really know. Hannah was too busy fulfilling a childhood dream.
Using the polished, wooden lane as a slip-n-slide for her socked feet.
New and improved control over her solid form allowed her this childish joy. It also supplied a heapin' helpin' of pain when she lost her balance. "Whoa-- shiiit!" Thunk. "Oww... my ass." Hannah rubbed her posterior and waited for the sensation to subside. She wondered if she could bruise.
One, two, three, four, five... "Ugh."
Why anyone would pay for their shoe rental in pennies was a mystery. They were intrinsically evil. 'Give a penny, get a penny' wasn't for anyone's benefit. And the mix of more nickel than actual copper meant it held residual energies. Get enough of them together and they could disrupt electronics. Batch 'em up in a plastic thingee beside a cash register, and no one's cash out was safe. It could bring down governments.
Evil.
Six, seven, eight, whoa shiiit!
Whistler ran out of the back office after the thunk and couldn't help but laugh as he spied the spirtely Hannah rubbing her backside. Served her right. He'd just waxed the alleys. If she'd asked, he would've recommended waiting another hour. The Agent learned the hard way the first time he tried it. "Hurts like a sunovabitch, doesn't it pixie?"
"Uuuughhh." She flopped like a fish, limbs akimbo. "All these months, I've been pursuing the feel-goods. Now I remember why I avoided pain." Hannah propped herself up on her elbows. "Still, I'm proud of myself. Doing pretty well with the old body, if you ask me. Now if I could just convince them to give me my mortality back..." Her face was a comical mixture of hopeful and smirking. It was highly unlikely.
"How's tricks?" she asked her hatted friend.
( Meg and Aaron Melone )
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| Credit Squeeze |
[28 Apr 2008|10:17pm] |
"What do you mean 'declined'?!?" Julie Sanchez demanded incredulously to the pimply faced cashier at her favorite coffee shop. She knew she didn't have huge sums of cash in her bank accounts, but she had enough to pay for a damn mocha ice and a chicken salad wrap! "I've got money in that account, it should be going through!"
"I'm sorry miss," the teenager replied, not sounding very sorry at all to the werewolf's ears and smelling like he hadn't showered in days to her sensitive nose. "It says 'card declined' -see?" He held up the credit card pad, which had the aforementioned words burning out of the display accusingly. and she restrained the urge to snatch the device out of his hands and throw it into the wall.
Julie huffed, frustrated, and pulled out her billfold from her purse to try and dig up enough cash to pay the bill. "I don't believe this," she muttered, face bright red from embarrassment.
"Here. Let me."
The voice came from just beyond Julie's right shoulder, and a wadded-up twenty dollar bill landed on the counter like a wounded bird. "Keep the change," Oliver said through a smile he didn't mean as he balanced his own large black coffee and roast beef sandwich. He had been at the opposite end of the counter getting his own order when the minor commotion took place, and his mouth was tight at the corners as the high school dropout behind the counter picked up his money and scuttled off.
"Having a day, are we?" he asked the werewolf archly, gesturing towards the table he'd intended to claim. "On second thought, you wouldn't mind eating outside, would you? I'm kind of expecting someone, and she doesn't like crowds. Besides, the people in here --" He jerked his head at the counter guy, who studiously avoided the spellcaster's attention "--leave a lot to be desired."
( One of those days )
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