Angeline Strauss (Sᴛᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢ Aɴᴀʀᴄʜʏ) (
sugarslice) wrote in
savetheearth2013-12-25 07:06 pm
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[text, handwritten]
[ working at a grocery store means working christmas day. working at a bed and breakfast means working christmas night. working, in this case, means being sociable with a pleasant-enough elderly couple who lost their condo in the earthquake and are rolling in enough dough to stay at a b&b for now.
after everything is cleaned up and put away, angeline squirrels away to her room, only to experience the hollowing sensation of an echo before she gets inside. perplexed and just the slightest bit concerned, she continues to her bedroom, only to find a set of clothes lying haphazardly on her bed. given that her room is locked in her absence, their appearance strikes her as doubly odd.
was it... blood keys? the only other time she had experienced that hollowing sensation had been in their presence. she nervously creeps to the window, as if she could detect an intruder if there were one, but comes up with nothing. she searches the room, but finds nothing missing.
finally, she glances at her notebook.
grabbing it and a pen, she leans against the headrest of her bed and writes her network number down.
in slanted script: ]
Someone left some clothes on my bed. They must have done it within the last hour because the clothes weren't there the last time. Is this the work of Blood Keys?
Are any of you Blood Keys?
Sorry, I'm new.
after everything is cleaned up and put away, angeline squirrels away to her room, only to experience the hollowing sensation of an echo before she gets inside. perplexed and just the slightest bit concerned, she continues to her bedroom, only to find a set of clothes lying haphazardly on her bed. given that her room is locked in her absence, their appearance strikes her as doubly odd.
was it... blood keys? the only other time she had experienced that hollowing sensation had been in their presence. she nervously creeps to the window, as if she could detect an intruder if there were one, but comes up with nothing. she searches the room, but finds nothing missing.
finally, she glances at her notebook.
grabbing it and a pen, she leans against the headrest of her bed and writes her network number down.
in slanted script: ]
Someone left some clothes on my bed. They must have done it within the last hour because the clothes weren't there the last time. Is this the work of Blood Keys?
Are any of you Blood Keys?
Sorry, I'm new.
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[ RIGHT?? she kind of has a lot of clothes built up over the past several years.
but what if? ]
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but what if they really aren't...
NO, GONNA FIGURE IT OUT ONCE AND FOR ALL. ]
What's my hair style?
[ an unwise question. in the event that this person is speaking the truth and answers correctly, angeline will have allowed herself to be potentially identified in public by her unusual hair style.
go angeline! ]
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wait. ]
Then how could you know my size!
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I've got better things to do with my life and bigger jobs in my future! Ones with benefits and a retirement plan.
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[ if this assturd makes more per hour than her... ]
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[hello jovan i'm sorry, angeline has somehow managed to convince Russel that you are responsible for swapping him into a dress in the middle of downtown last Sunday]
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Well, the joke's on you because there is no pulse fairy. You're full of it.
[ she takes what she can gets. ]
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[ though the idea is tempting, she is, at the moment, more bark than bite. ]
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