Post by TEAGAN TEAGAN TEAGAN TEAGAN TE on Aug 15, 2010 21:49:40 GMT -5
"Oof!" said Teagan, suddenly knocked down by an graceless drunk. Bags of groceries tumbled to either side.
Fuming, violet eyes glared at the fool lying prostrate on her lap. He had dark hair, was of medium build, and somehow gave off that faint scent of booze and cigarettes from Joker's.
Not one for words (or close personal contact), the Monolayre simply lifted one leg and removed this amorous being from her person by kicking him in the shoulder. Hard. Mercilessly.
"Watch where you're going," she chided, standing up and checking her bags and pockets. The frickin' pervert hadn't picked her pockets, so it seemed he was just some innocent drunkard running around at night in the village often plagued by vampires, lycans, zombies, and dark wizards. Riiiiiiight. Because a drunk couldn't do a damn thing logically.
Pffft. Teagan never drank.
She glowered at the busted eggs lining the stone road with their yellow and white innards, scrambled but not on a frying pan. Her busted eggs. The eggs she was planning to eat once upon a time.
As the Monolayre repacked her groceries--a handful of eggs managed to escape the slaughter--a sudden chill ran up her delicate spine and made her shiver. What was wrong? She hadn't turned her back on that guy, and she was ready to draw her wand at any given moment. What was so dangerous that it made a hard-core security guard like herself tremble? Was this a dire warning from her subconscious? Was the drunkard a great beast in disguise?
She looked at him slowly. Why did he give her the creeps? What was he?
And then, suddenly, it hit her like a llama riding a bacon sled at 99.3 miles per hour into a child's play pen.
Her bags fell from her limp and clumsy fingers.
The imbecile who wrecked into her like a bowling ball was none other than Sparky X Cobalt: pedophile, bipolar and bisexual pervert, and now professor.
Oh, f***.
Fuming, violet eyes glared at the fool lying prostrate on her lap. He had dark hair, was of medium build, and somehow gave off that faint scent of booze and cigarettes from Joker's.
Not one for words (or close personal contact), the Monolayre simply lifted one leg and removed this amorous being from her person by kicking him in the shoulder. Hard. Mercilessly.
"Watch where you're going," she chided, standing up and checking her bags and pockets. The frickin' pervert hadn't picked her pockets, so it seemed he was just some innocent drunkard running around at night in the village often plagued by vampires, lycans, zombies, and dark wizards. Riiiiiiight. Because a drunk couldn't do a damn thing logically.
Pffft. Teagan never drank.
She glowered at the busted eggs lining the stone road with their yellow and white innards, scrambled but not on a frying pan. Her busted eggs. The eggs she was planning to eat once upon a time.
As the Monolayre repacked her groceries--a handful of eggs managed to escape the slaughter--a sudden chill ran up her delicate spine and made her shiver. What was wrong? She hadn't turned her back on that guy, and she was ready to draw her wand at any given moment. What was so dangerous that it made a hard-core security guard like herself tremble? Was this a dire warning from her subconscious? Was the drunkard a great beast in disguise?
She looked at him slowly. Why did he give her the creeps? What was he?
And then, suddenly, it hit her like a llama riding a bacon sled at 99.3 miles per hour into a child's play pen.
Her bags fell from her limp and clumsy fingers.
The imbecile who wrecked into her like a bowling ball was none other than Sparky X Cobalt: pedophile, bipolar and bisexual pervert, and now professor.
Oh, f***.