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Post by Meg Giry on Oct 11, 2010 19:17:38 GMT -5
"No. And don't go digging for them; if you steal another girl's they'll find something really nasty to do to you.'
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Post by Basini on Oct 11, 2010 19:22:03 GMT -5
He made a face, shoving his thoroughly ruined handkerchief back into his shirt pocket.
"Then can you help me up?"
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Post by Meg Giry on Oct 11, 2010 19:28:37 GMT -5
"Do you think you can?"
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Post by Basini on Oct 11, 2010 19:37:15 GMT -5
What was he doing asking her for assistance? She'd admitted to throwing shoes at him, and she was giving him nasty looks, whatever her name was. If he steadied himself against the door, he could at least manage being upright. It wasn't any actual damage-- as the full symphony of interesting new forms of pain was just warming up, at least not that he could tell--but feeling completely out of sorts, weak and unsteady on his feet. Not that it didn't hurt standing up, thrusting out his chest in an effort to maintain some dignity. At least he hadn't fainted.
"Never mind. Just point me where to go."
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Post by Meg Giry on Oct 11, 2010 19:42:38 GMT -5
"Find your own way, and try to avoid doing the same thing with the boys."
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Post by Basini on Oct 11, 2010 19:49:03 GMT -5
Basini shot the little blonde nymph his very nastiest look and set to hobbling off.
His vision still swum (one had hit him in the eye, and he could already feel the little runnel of a scratch puffing up) and he wasn't even very sure of where he'd come in from any more. Funny how much more straightforward the dressing rooms had seemed when they were still the perfumed boudoir of mysteries seen from the other side of a locked door. Now he had to take pains not to trip over anything he'd been previously pelted with, and it was harder than it would have been with a head that didn't ache.
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Post by Meg Giry on Oct 11, 2010 19:57:24 GMT -5
Meg sighed, "Oh, you're hopeless!" and scrambled up to help him.
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Post by Basini on Oct 11, 2010 20:06:56 GMT -5
This just made him pull away from her sharply, on reflex, and consequently fall over. Stefan swore ineffectually and clambered up again.
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Post by Meg Giry on Oct 11, 2010 20:15:47 GMT -5
Meg sighed.
"Really, you're worse than the little ones-"
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Post by Basini on Oct 11, 2010 20:17:53 GMT -5
"So now you want to help--"
(He added some extremely unkind names to the end of this, at least in his head, but he didn't feel at all bold.)
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Post by Meg Giry on Oct 11, 2010 20:57:31 GMT -5
"I threw a shoe. You'll survive."
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Post by Basini on Oct 11, 2010 20:59:07 GMT -5
Stefan glared at her.
"They're hard--" Not that he had noticed during, being more preoccupied with AAAAAH GIRLS.
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Post by Meg Giry on Oct 11, 2010 21:02:48 GMT -5
"That's why they make good projectiles."
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Post by Basini on Oct 11, 2010 21:19:06 GMT -5
"I know-- I'm going to have to say I fell down again--"
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Post by Meg Giry on Oct 11, 2010 21:21:33 GMT -5
"...I didn't think you'd end up like this, though."
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