Graverobber
- Ingenious Pilot -
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It's quick. It's clean. It's pure. It could change your life, rest assured.%\0\%
Posts: 222
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Post by Graverobber on Dec 17, 2009 11:47:16 GMT -5
Why not? It worked for the cheese company.
*He stared at the man, a bit befuddled. He certainly dealt with his own variety of odd balls, but he wasn't accustomed to this sort of fellow. And it was becoming ever more obvious that delaying him was doing nothing for his business. He sighed, gesturing to the mouth of the alley.*
"Take a right and head down 3 blocks. There's a club there, though if it's one of a cow, I'm not sure."
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Eddie Izzard
- In the Duggins -
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Action Transvestite
Cake or Death?%\3\%
Posts: 68
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Post by Eddie Izzard on Dec 17, 2009 11:49:40 GMT -5
"Right, three blocks." Eddie nodded, trying to keep his thoughts in one place long enough to actually absorb the information.
He looked at the floor of the alley and sucked in a breath.
"Just glad I'm not wearing heels tonight."
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Graverobber
- Ingenious Pilot -
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It's quick. It's clean. It's pure. It could change your life, rest assured.%\0\%
Posts: 222
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Post by Graverobber on Dec 17, 2009 11:58:48 GMT -5
Me too. *He couldn't help but think, suddenly reminded of that other client that claimed to have been a woman once, only to find himself a man again. He'd been British too, in hindsight. Odd. Perhaps it was in the water.
The Graverobber waved him on, watching him round the corner before turning back to the alley and sorting out his plans for the night.*
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Miranda
- Ingenious Pilot -
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All that we see, or seem, is but a dream, a dream within a dream.%\1\%
Posts: 221
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Post by Miranda on Feb 18, 2010 23:20:02 GMT -5
***NEW DAY*** It was nice to have it and all, but honestly, sometimes Adrian didn't know what to do with downtime. She was still so used to being completely on top of things and controlling of management that when she wasn't it made her feel awkward. Despite this, it was a nice day. Unfortunately, she also had a talent for getting lost in the worst parts of town. Somehow, without meaning to, Adrian Andrews--manager extraordinaire--had found herself in the dirtier back alleys of Paris, which was saying something. Once she'd realized where she was, she'd been making for the exit when she'd been jumped, perhaps unsurprisingly. Speaking of which, she was currently in rather a lot of danger as she protested in rather feeble French that she hadn't any money on her (she hadn't) with a dagger thrust in her face. There were multiple Our Ladies of Paris in Paris. One of them was rather mobile and corset-bedecked, and, rather curious, bare-legged and masked. She swung down out of nearly nowhere and kicked someone harassing a blond woman, directly in the face. When they turned on her, an angry red riding boot-print on their cheek, she grappled with them. Her nearly vacant expression made it look easily, even when it looked at moments as though she was nearly overpowered - punched in the gut, knocked over, that sort of thing, even straddled at one point. But a kick upwards or a swift grasp of someone's throat helped her regain precarious balance, and finally, almost luckily, she hit a pressure point on the back of the neck that made the mugger drop like a sack, almost taking Miranda down with him. She wiped beads of perspiration off her brow with the back of her gloved hand and looked patiently up to the woman. "You poor thing," she said in sympathetic English, "are you perfectly well?" Ironically, she chose that moment - or rather, her body did, completely surprising her, which showed in the blue eyes behind the mask - to fall to her knees, which were shaking. She held up a hand, universal "just a moment, I'll be fine" language, and tried to catch her breath. It had been a very long night; she'd stopped a hold-up earlier and her reaction time was slowing. Blood sugar dropping, too.
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Post by Adrian Andrews on Feb 19, 2010 13:02:02 GMT -5
Well, that was unexpected. While Adrian had heard of vigilantes, she hadn't expected any of them to ever actually step in to save her, and she wished after a moment that she was strong enough to help. Maybe it had been a long night or something, but the, well, superhero, she supposed, didn't seem to be doing well herself.
"Oh! I'm...yes, I'm doing alr--" she began, scrambling for her facade, only to be cut off by the sudden incapacitation of he other woman. Adrian gasped, looking around for anyone to help her, ironically enough. Seeing that she was going to be alright, though, she crouched down, doing what she did best in tense situations--looking nervous and toying with her glasses.
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Miranda
- Ingenious Pilot -
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All that we see, or seem, is but a dream, a dream within a dream.%\1\%
Posts: 221
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Post by Miranda on Feb 19, 2010 16:59:53 GMT -5
Miranda nodded, reached a hand back for the wall and tipped over slightly to reach it, gently pulling herself up to standing. Her feet hadn't moved and remained precariously planted some distance away, leaving her leaning on her back with her knees out. For the time being, so long as she could breath and stand, it was all right.
"A long night," he said in a huff of air, trying to be helpful. "He is out. The police should be informed of his attack on you, Miss - "
She didn't mean to make it sound as though she were asking for a name, but she had paused there for an intake of breath.
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Post by Adrian Andrews on Feb 19, 2010 18:20:35 GMT -5
Anxiously, Adrian watched, wanting to at least hold out her arm or something but not wanting to appear rude somehow. After all, this woman, whoever she was, had just saved her! She--she would feel awful if anything bad happened to her now. So, she was relieved when she found that the other was at least able to speak.
"Uh? Oh. Adrian. Adrian Andrews." Yes, it was just a little bit embarrassing, but she was also proud to have some name recognition. "I'm sorry if that caused you any problems..."
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Miranda
- Ingenious Pilot -
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All that we see, or seem, is but a dream, a dream within a dream.%\1\%
Posts: 221
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Post by Miranda on Feb 22, 2010 22:07:46 GMT -5
Miranda had to pause and remind herself that Miss Andrews had offered her own name only because of Miranda's poorly-worded last statement, and that replying, 'Miranda' was not an option. Nor was replying 'Notre Dame de Paris', because presumably Miss Andrews already knew.
She also had to tell herself that 'I did not realize Adrian was a woman's name' was not likely to come off as polite, which was the first time one of her natural inquiries had to be silenced, and that was surprising enough to her in itself. She looked, very briefly, rather young, before the blinking behind her mask was subdued again.
"No, merely he did," and she knew at that that it had been a long night because generally speaking being thrown to the ground and straddled was all in a day's work. It did not usually produce this sudden nausea and inability to do anything properly... although granted, that was compounded by having been punched in the gut several times. "Did he interrupt you on your way to anything very important?"
She didn't want to sound so rude, and didn't realize why she'd said that until after it had come out of her mouth. She was about to ask Miss Andrews to help her home, at least far enough along that Miranda could get there by herself. Her... usual methods of transportation would not work now.
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