Who: Melinda Bobbin, Kirley Duke, and random NPC Where: nowhere you can see When: Wednesday evening (slightly forward-dated) What: nomming the death. Warnings: violence, possibly language, probably blood
Melinda hit the ground on her upper back and slid a yard or two in the dirt and rotting leaves. Ugh, maybe if she wasn't with Inept Guitar Brother Fucker over there then someone would have had her back and she wouldn't be getting knocked around like a ragdoll right now. She'd felt the summons through her Mark and headed off, only to find she was paired with Kirley fucking McCormack (she would not call him Duke, what a stupid nickname). Even his name was a failure.
Still, no time to feel sorry for herself or berate someone she was pretending to hate in her mind. Melinda pulled herself up to her feet and kept running. Kirley was maybe 40 yards ahead of her now, their opponent maybe ten more yards beyond him. They were all running hell-for-leather toward a house another quarter of a mile away. Melinda grit her teeth and sprinted as hard as she could to catch up, wand clenched in her fist, throwing hexes whenever she caught a glimpse of her enemy through the trees, careful not to curse her comrade (although it was a little tempting).