justsookie: (son of a... mother--)
The moment I step into the Winchester for my weekly cooking shift, it's pretty clear: people know. If you think that gossip spreads quick in a town like Bon Temps, you should remember that there are still a whole more people in that podunk town than there are on the island— a couple thousand, last I checked. So it takes a whole lot less for everyone on the island to know that Sookie Stackhouse, one of their Council members, isn't at all acting herself these days. Most people probably know about the fact that I got attacked, too. Nothing serious, nothing really even leaving more than a bruise here and there, and I certainly didn't have to go to the clinic. (Actually, I adamantly refused, because there are people that need the attention more than me, and because I was definitely used to coping with threads by then.)

But still enough to all stare at me like I'm this time bomb waiting to go off. I kind of hate it.

The thing is, though, that when the whole town starts looking at you like they think you're crazy, sometimes that just makes you want to prove them wrong. So I head into the Winchester with my head held tall, glad that I get to be in the back today, that I don't gotta put on a smile for everyone and pretend like everything's alright just so that they can have their peaceful meal. By the time I reach the kitchen, though, it's getting pretty clear that my hands are shaking just a bit.

Not a big issue, right?

Until I drop one of the porcelain bowls I keep around to make oil and water easy to reach, and it shatters on the ground, my breath immediately catching as I try to blink and calm the heck down.

"Shit," I say anyway. My eyes squeeze shut and my hands ball into fists, and suddenly I just can't hold it back. "Shit, fuck, son of a... motherfuck."

I sit down on one of the step stools and just run my fingers through my hair, feeling ragged.

[Note: I was thinking of setting this to March 30th, but if you'd like for it to be April 6th instead, that's totally fine!]
justsookie: (like a stream of consciousness)
A couple of days after Sookie's unexpected trip to Bristol, and she was back to working with a renewed vengeance. No matter how long she dwelt on what happened there, on her renewed encounter with death on a scale all too large and far too wide, there was really nothing to be done. She couldn't go back to fix everything that had been broken, and no matter how many times she tried to talk to her three friends on the island, there was only so much that she could convince them of, being someone who only saw Bristol and the situation there for two days. Not wanting to feel so lost, hating the feeling of being helpless, Sookie had decided to take up her work on the island again. She fashioned flashcards out of cutouts from a blank, worn notebook she found on the bookshelf, first focusing on Italian, the bulk of which had felt like it all disappeared from Sookie's mind after all the hub-bub. As she sat on the front steps of the Compound, she flipped through the cards now and again, while also writing in some spare pages of the notebook, of the plan that she wanted to roll out for new arrivals.

"L'italia è un paese meraviglioso," she said with a flourish of her hand, giggling afterward to herself as she raised an arm over her head to stretch. "Well, at least, I'm sure it is, if I'll ever get to visit it in my life, but I'll take George's word for it."

That was when she heard approaching footsteps and looked up, beaming as soon as she saw the familiar face.
justsookie: (don't get too excited)
For some people, waking up from a dream started with eyes opening wide. More often than not, Sookie woke up in the exact same way herself, lids flying open and the entirety of the world in front of her, dreams disappearing as easily as the darkness fled with the rising sun. But this time, it was different. She could feel sheets under her hands, the soft pillow below her ear, and these things she clung to desperately, afraid of what she'd see when she woke up. She'd forgotten so much. The way that her bed felt at home, how soft the mattress is, as opposed to the bed she had on the island, remarkably normal in spite of the way it was on an island that no one could explain. And in those few seconds after she was awake, Sookie didn't know what she wanted to open her eyes to, already feeling a tear creep down her cheek as she wondered if she'd wake up to Mitchell, or if she'd wake up alone, or somewhere else altogether. Once, remembering the island alone was enough to convince herself that she was still there, living her new life.

No longer.

Sniffling, Sookie buried her face further into her pillow, not yet ready to wake up, gripping the pillowcase as she took a deep inhale.

"Anyone there?" she asked, voice quiet.
justsookie: (I will marry you)
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Thank you!
justsookie: (you're better than they'll ever be)
It had been exactly one week since Sookie Stackhouse had happened across George Sands leaning over a body on the beach, eyes caught on the sight of a large, gaping hole in the man's chest and slowly weeping wounds all along the throat. She had not intended to wait seven days before approaching George after the event, and had Sookie acted completely on impulse, she might have visited him the very next day in his hut. Fortunately for both of them, their shifts at the Winchester provided a good excuse for a grace period, time for both of them to calm their nerves and find some amount of calm before facing each other again— Sookie hoped that it was enough, that he would not yelp upon finding her heading toward the kitchen where he worked, but still she approached cautiously, not yet having donned the apron that signaled the start of her shift. In all honesty, it was unlikely that Neil would be angry with her for lagging several minutes behind anyway, not when she was working without pay and minded her job conscientiously once on the floor.

Hesitantly, she lingered by the counter next to the kitchen, peeking over her shoulder before she turned to face George fully with a wave.

"Hey, George," she greeted with a nervous smile, folding her arms neatly and watching him cook. Somehow, even though Sookie wasn't sure whether or not George was having any doubts to begin with, it seemed important to let him know that what she saw that evening didn't affect her impression of him, for better or worse. Even without Mitchell being thrown into the equation, Sookie appreciated all three of them, the group of former supernaturals who lived less than a quarter of a mile away from her own hut, and hoped that the friendships she had with all three would only strengthen. "How are you doin' today?"
justsookie: (I am so embarrassed I could die)
While Sookie wasn't precisely the sort who believed that perfect attendance was necessary in order to do well in school, careful coaching from gran had taught her to respect those who took the time out of their day to impart their knowledge, especially when teachers seemed to get a lot less of a dollar value for the amount of effort that they put in. Combined with the fact that her teacher was one Buffy Summers, and Sookie had managed to make every effort to attend the biweekly martial arts courses, scheduling her shifts at the Winchester around them, always begging off a day early if she was somehow ill. But that week, she had missed the Wednesday lesson. No prior notice. No rushed explanation on the day after, no knocking on Buffy's door, none of that.

Because, quite simply, she'd forgotten. Spitting out pseudo-curses, Sookie quickly rustled through the clothes box, finding a pale yellow and pink striped jumpsuit, relatively innocuous until she realized the 'KISS ME' splayed over her behind in white block letters. Groaning, Sookie rushed off to the classroom regardless, tying her hair up in a high ponytail as she went, scampering up flights of stairs and hoping that she was early enough to catch Buffy before all the other students filed in. Once she arrived at the door, however, she wondered how exactly she was going to explain.

My boyfriend and I were unexpectedly busy?

Getting ass takes precedence over kicking ass?

Mitchell and I were having dance lessons?

Slapping both of her cheeks, Sookie decided just to wing it, pushing through the door and predictably finding Buffy there, laying out the materials that they would be working with that day. "Hey," Sookie greeted, expression slightly hesitant. "Need a hand?"
justsookie: (just got its first vampire!)
Two days had passed since Mitchell spent the night in Sookie's new hut, and the novelty still had not worn off in the slightest. There was an added bounce to her step as she hopped around the Winchester, a flush on her cheeks not at all aided by dusting of make-up, and every other customer that Sookie served that afternoon received, at least, a completely complimentary five minutes of one-on-one conversation, the waitress sliding into the nearest seat to ask about the customer's day. In theory, Sookie knew that it must have been irritating to some, having yet another person on the island fall into the commonplace trap of falling in love and starting to build a new life around their significant other, but she couldn't give half a damn to try and suppress the behavior. Not when it had her wearing flirty skirts with a bit more of a flourish, when she no longer lingered at the bar until everyone inside decided to head to bed, and more importantly had learned to let go just a little of the people who clutched so tightly at her heart and weighed her down.

More than anything else, what she had with Mitchell was an affirmation of the fact that new lives could be had on Tabula Rasa, and that they didn't only play with the notion of love or affection. They were real.

So when another person entered the restaurant, it was with that brilliant smile that Sookie rushed up to help seat her, feeling all of sixteen again. "Hi, welcome to Mer— I mean, sorry, welcome to the Winchester! I'm Sookie, and I'll be your server today, and if you let me know whether you'd prefer a booth or table, I can get you seated right away." Her eyes narrowed slightly in vague recognition; although the two of them had never been formally introduced, Sookie fluttered around the dining area often enough that she caught the names of most regular customers. "Veronica, right?"
justsookie: (don't feel right without a tan)
The first thing that Sookie Stackhouse had done, after finally moving all of her belongings into the hut that Miguel had passed onto her, was drop her relative location off with her big brother, so that Jason could find his sister at any given time. But when it came to the matter of inviting someone else over to share in the fact that she had finally settled, letting her roots stretch into the ground to keep herself anchored on the island, she wasn't sure that Jason was the best first option. As much as she loved her brother, the notion of showing him her attempts at a makeshift house or home seemed like it was asking for disappointment in one way or another. The two of them could never be home, not really, and the more they tried to shape it for themselves, the more they would miss the home that they'd spent decades in with their gran.

Besides, she wasn't exactly keen on letting Jason know that she had been sharing a place with a man before finally moving out on her own. No doubt that he'd call that living in sin, and Sookie just didn't want to find herself constantly wondering at the different standards her brother set for the both of them.

So instead, she had insisted that Mitchell come along to the small little area in the middle of the island that she could now call her own. Perhaps it was a bit presumptuous, even a little suggestive, inviting her boyfriend over to her place, a place that was solely her own and where not even the threat of supervision lingered. Then again, she told herself, it had been almost a month since the two of them decided to try and see what they could mean to one another, a month of taking things slow, so much that she could hardly believe that she had been with Mitchell for nearly twice the amount of time she'd been with Bill. That she had known him for over three months, several times the length of time that she had known any vampires back in Bon Temps. The very thought made her a mix of giddy and impatient as she led him by the hand to her hut, all laughs and bright smiles as wings beat against her ribcage.

"This is it," she announced, grinning from cheek to cheek. "It's not much, but I've finally got a place of my own."
justsookie: (he told you about that?)
Doubts were the sorts of things that tended to flood in whenever the source of distraction left one's immediate vicinity. Over the past few hours, Sookie's eyes had started wandering all over the place as she found difficulty settling on any single thought in her mind, the blonde rushing from room to room and back again within the Compound, trying to settle what she could only see as ridiculous, possibly hormonally girlish behavior. Every now and again she found herself laughing, often at nothing in particular, and at other times she jumped at any sudden sound or sight in her near vicinity. In the end, she had settled on sitting in the kitchen, lightly bouncing on her seat as she waited for a familiar face to come by, preferably one who she could talk to about the events of the previous evening and to finally determine whether or not she should have been feeling those flickers of guilt, and given that answer, how best to progress from there.

Sighing, she leaned forward over the table, foot still tapping incessantly on the floor as Sookie's fingers wove into her hair, gripping strands and tugging as though she could pull reason and logic out from within herself. She had been on the island for over two months, and so many others saw the place as one where everyone could start over, live the lives they'd never had a chance at back in their respective worlds, and Sookie supported that notion. Had begun to act as though she planned on using it for herself to justify drawing close to new people and breaking away from habits borne of the belief that her disability was one that she would never escape. And yet she still had to wonder if she was being the equivalent of a little girl newly allowed to peruse the candy store, and dwelled further on the fact that others were possibly affected by her spur of the moment actions as well. It was all a bit much, churning through all of those thoughts on her own, and so when Sookie finally did see a familiar and welcome face passing through the door, she jolted straight, waving.

"Rahne! Rahne, over here!"
justsookie: (I'm not sayin' it's the same)
When Sookie opened her eyes, she couldn't remember where she was. Couldn't remember what had brought her to that very point in time, laying on that very bed, staring at the perforated texture of the ceiling. Her heart was racing, her body ached, but her mind was a blissful silence as Sookie found herself with absolutely nothing but her senses to anchor her, hands balling into fists around corners of a soft blanket pulled up to her shoulders.

Slowly, the memories trickled back in, as they always did. She was on an island, one that had become a home of sorts over the past couple of months. The room was the clinic of a building called the Compound, one that most residents wove in and out of, because it contained most of the conveniences they were accustomed to from home. She was laying in the clinic after having spent a few days out in the open, exposed to the elements all while wearing very little, having relinquished her clothes to help someone more in need of it. It was with two other people, the sudden move out into the territory roamed by dinosaurs, all areas drenched by rain and there being no real way to navigate out of the area. What had been more terrifying than any of the details, however, was the sudden nature of it all, no warning or force for Sookie to grapple with, just something larger and more powerful than her that brought everyone to their knees. Made Sookie feel small, weak in ways she had long since vowed not to be, again.

But there she was, safe and warm in a bed, and what right did she have to complain about a nice ending like that?

She remembered other things, too, vague hints of murmurs passing through the clinic, people talking about the miraculous end of the rain, suggesting that the island had ceased its activity for now, letting people enjoy the status quo. Seeing no gazes lingering on her person, Sookie slowly sat up on the bed, wrapping the blanket tightly around herself and slipping to the floor, padding slowly out of the room. She didn't like hospitals. And she hated rain of the sort the island had gone through in the past month— Sookie didn't like rain to begin with, but being stuck in the thick of it reminded her of the weather those twenty years ago, the flash floods that led to the death of her parents. Rather than moping, what she wanted was the sun, to feel the rays on her face and maybe even find Jason just to enjoy it with him, the new weather that would hopefully help to push everything else out of her mind and place it solidly in the past. Sookie took to the sides of the hallways, one hand carefully lingering on the wall to keep herself steady as she made her way to the front entrance of the Compound, hoping no one would haul her back before she could take a breath of fresh air and enjoy it in full.
justsookie: (it's not even right to ask)
July 27, 2010

Dear Bill

Gran

Bill

I should write in this diary more often. Sometimes, it's like I'm just running through a tunnel and hardly even notice I've moved until the scenery changes suddenly. Drastically. I look at the way I wrote a month ago, two months ago, and it's hard to remember exactly how I came to be standing here, in this very spot. Things aren't the way they were when I left Bon Temps. I'm no longer that person. I said something a little while back, when I was talking to Mitchell, about the fact that I haven't just had Eric's blood. I've had Bill's blood, too. And I think it's different, I think that what Eric did is despicable, and I don't think I'll ever forgive him for that. But if you think about it, Eric's blood already did so much that I wonder, with Bill... I've had his blood many more times. What might that have done to me?

How much of that all was real?

I hate doubting him like this. I hate it, because sometimes I still miss him so much that I don't know what to do with myself. When I was out there in the jungle, I thought about him, the fact that back home I wouldn't even be stuck anywhere like that for ten minutes after dark. It's like there's this hole that's been ripped into my heart and there isn't anything I can do to fill it up. What I'm trying to do is just get used to it. There's no point in hanging my hat just because a man isn't here — what kind of fool would I be to be that attached? A fool in love.

It's been crazy. The island magically swept me away to the dinosaur territory. I saw one with my own eyes, tried to help fend it off. I found Jenny and a man named Rory in short order, so I wasn't alone, and yet at the same time I felt like I was, at times. Like I could've just ended up getting killed out there, and the people I love most — it's ridiculous.

I'm safe now, though. I think I terrified Jason a great deal. Even Mitchell, too. I'm running a fever now and Rory seemed to know that I was coming down with a bit of hypothermia. The weather's getting all lovely again, but I can't even go out so much to enjoy it. All I can do is feel weak and wear the surgical mask I found in the clothes box and hope that I don't get anyone else sick. It was terrifying, though. I don't want to admit to it, but it was. No matter how ridiculous the idea is, there are some people I just want to see again, so that they know that — we don't leave things up in the air in a way that might be later regretted. Probably most by me. Cal is

How can you fight a force so arbitrary and completely untraceable?

Part of me (and the rest is fighting against this impulse like it's the weakest part of myself) wishes Mitchell would just hang on and never let go. Never let me be alone like that again. What I need to figure out is if that's because I want him. I think I do. I know that I really, really like him. I just don't know what it might be beyond that.

Fortunately, he's patient.

Once I get better and out of the clinic, I think I'll get my own place.
justsookie: (thinkin' creepy foreign stuff)
I don't think I ever consciously meant to keep Cal's gun for so long. Actually, I never intended to take it back to the hut with me-- I wouldn't have needed it, with the island being how it is and with a soldier living right next door. But after that breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and bacon, all practically drowning in syrup, the gun had just stayed safely tucked away under the belt of my shorts as I returned home to try and make sense out of everything Cal had said. Only to find out, of course, that Cal had actually been in Jason's body the whole time, so all those talks about loneliness and just wanting a normal life weren't his admissions. Possibly weren't even true.

Maybe, with my faith in the ability to read Cal so shaken, I was just keeping the gun as an excuse to talk to him again. Who knows how the mind works?

All I knew was that when I ended up being woken by the feel of my head slamming against the gun for the millionth time, it was high time to return the thing.

An hour later, I found myself at the front of Cal's hut, dressed in a camisole and shorts-- feeling somewhat dowdy for it, actually-- and wondering how I was supposed to call his attention without a doorbell. Maybe he was busy, maybe he wasn't even at home, maybe he didn't like being awake at eleven in the morning, maybe with my luck I'd come across Niko with his Eric Northman in Hawaii face.

But I tried anyway.

"Cal?" I called out, the gun still carefully tucked away under a belt. Well, as much as it could be, anyway-- it was a pretty large gun. Possibly overcompensating.
justsookie: (but yours? I can't get a handle on)
Although relatively petite and blonde, Sookie Stackhouse was far from helpless in defending herself; between having a sharp tongue, skill in wielding heavy chains, and knowing her way around a gun, most people in Bon Temps didn't dare cross her path when she was in one of her moods, mind-reading abilities notwithstanding. But time on the island without a shotgun propped against her wall and with the ever-present reminder of the fact that no matter how many times she prayed for her grandmother's arrival, Rene's was just as likely, had driven Sookie to the point where she needed to find a more disciplined way to go about it. Something which didn't require a quick sprint on over to the weapon.

Which was why, in addition to the secret meetings she'd planned with one Alice Cullen, Sookie also found herself hovering around the twice a week martial arts classes at the Island School. The fact that Buffy Summers was the instructor was just the icing on the cake, Sookie's face barely containing a wide grin as she bit down on her lower lip, standing outside the classroom about fifteen minutes before the scheduled start of class. And if there was one thing that Sookie could say, it was that Buffy was a million times prettier up close and personal.

(Even if a bit shorter than Sookie always imagined.)

Steeling her nerves, Sookie knocked on the propped door and peeked inside. "Um, hi? You're Buffy Summers, right? I was wonderin' if it'd be possible to join this class at all."
justsookie: (I'm not sayin' it's the same)
June 18th, 2010

When I wrote my first entry in here, I decided to start each entry with just a date. Because it isn't really like I'm writing to anyone. The diary doesn't know what I'm penning in it, and I get to talk to my gran when I pray every night. But now I'm feeling like I need to be able to talk to someone frankly about all of this, and it didn't take me very long to figure out who I'd give this to, if he ever came to the island. So let's start over.


Dear Bill,

It's been over a month now since I've arrived on the island, and everyone around me seems to think that I should be able to find a new life here. I know that gran wouldn't want me to be wallowing around, and time is — well, it's limited for me, so I guess I'm trying to live it as well as I can. I've moved in with someone — Walt Hasser — because the Compound basement feels too much like a prison, and because I don't think I can handle living on my own. He offered first, and he's a really sweet guy. I think you'd like him, if you kept your mind open long enough to get to know him. I also got a job at the Winchester, waiting tables like I did back at Merlotte's, although it's never quite as busy as rush hours were there.

Jason's been strange. Overprotective and a fair bit clingy, as well. I guess absence really does make a heart like his grow fonder, but if he keeps this up, I'm going to start feeling like I have to sneak around to squeeze any sort of fun in.

There are a lot of vampires on the island, turns out. Not only those I once watched on television — Angel, Spike... did you ever watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer when it aired? I feel like it's one of those shows that Eric some vampires would watch just to laugh at, so maybe you've seen an episode now and again. I was such a fan when it was still airing. And then there's Alice and Mitchell — and Mitchell's friend Annie, who was actually a ghost. I feel like there might be something more going on between Mitchell and Annie, or at least the potential for it, now that they're on the island. It makes me miss you so much more, and I didn't think that possible after I arrived.

Despite everything, though, I'm just tired. Always on edge. I did something that you wouldn't like at all kissed a guy, something I'm not entirely proud of. But I'm pretty sure that's now over before it began, because — well, actually, I won't say any more yet. You never really know how things will go in life.

I do miss you, though, and I pray every evening that you'll make your way here.


Love,

Sookie
justsookie: (nobody's forcing you to watch)
One of the rules that I generally live by is that it's criminal to waste a good bathing suit. They're kind of like shoes — it's really hard to find one that fits in a flattering way, and sometimes also difficult to find the right color for your complexion. Human bodies aren't really designed to be perfect, and even if I bought into the idea that people shouldn't mind those imperfections, that didn't mean that I wouldn't try to dress myself up. Fashion's all about emphasizing your best features.

So when I'd found a cute little set with cherries and blossoms speckled all over, clearly that meant my day would be devoted to both laying on the beach and taking a dip in the water. And for the latter, I headed to the waterfall by the Compound, one of the things Louisiana really didn't have too many of. The water was almost unbelievably clean, not at all murky like the marsh ponds I was accustomed to. With a stifled laugh, I ended up taking a running start, tucked into a cannonball, and splashed right in.

In that moment, it was sorta hard to keep my mind on any of my greater worries. I guess a lot of stereotypes really do have some truth in them.
justsookie: (like a stream of consciousness)
May 9th, 2010

Well. Here I am. I'm still not sure where 'here' is in the big picture, but it's kind of an island paradise, and since I've always dreamed of heading to Hawaii one day, I guess I could have a lot more to complain about. I've heard it said that sometimes people come and go on this island, and usually when they come back, they don't ever remember having been here before, so I'm keeping a record in hopes of preventing that from happening. Hopefully, it'll be kept safe somehow — maybe I'll make a note on the cover that it should be given to the bookcase, if and when Sookie Stackhouse ever leaves the island.

I still can't believe all of this is happening.

Jason doesn't remember a thing that's happened since I killed Rene the incident at the graveyard, which I'd happily been able to kind of put into the background with everything else that was going on. Now, though, I'm starting to think about it a lot more, and I don't like it one bit. It's like being on this island puts all of my doubts together in this one big, negative bundle of energy that has my hair standing on end all the time. I worry about Bill, Tara, Sam... and what's worse is that I'm still having dreams the stuff that went on between me and Eric? It's still going on. Sorta.

I just don't have an excuse for it anymore. Which makes it worse, I guess. I feel guilty as all about it. But I'll just keep praying that Bill makes it on the island, somehow.

Because if he does... gosh, I can't even imagine. He'd be able to stay up with me during the day, he'd be able to eat with me. I could start wearing silver jewelry again — not that I've got anything with me other than the Rattrays' chain. Lord, we could even start a family.

But I'm getting way, way ahead of myself. These are only my fantasies, after all. If he really did come, there'd be issues, and in the end I feel like all of us from Bon Temps do want to get home, no matter what kinds of problems might pop up, there. Jason's... he's better off in home field. I'm still trying to get to the bottom of everything he's got to have been up to over the past year without me, but it's taking a while. It always does.

Oh, and of course I need to mention — Buffy and Angel are here. And Spike. And I'm sure there must be others of their group, too, I just... can't really ask without probably seeming like a creep. It's a little weird to be hiding so much from them, the fact that I know about their lives and that they were basically from a television show, in my world. But I think that with everything else that's gone on in their lives, they deserve not to feel trivialized (looked that up in the dictionary) by hearing that they're a source of entertainment for audiences in my world. It's still so neat to get to meet them, though. I wonder what kind of magic allowed that to happen. I wonder what the magic on the island is really being used for. Kind of scary.


Notable people:

Angel: Memory. Knows I dated a vampire.

Buffy: Memory.

Cal: Full name Caliban, but I don't think he likes it — and he shouldn't. Good at pool. Seems like a guy with a lot of secrets, though. Has a sense of humor that reminds me of the guys back home.

Gus: Real sweet, seems kind of clueless when it comes to street smarts, but probably well-read and good with book smarts. Knows when skirts are short and won't hesitate to point that out.

Mitchell: KNOWS. Vampire, kind of lived a similar life as Bill. British, but doesn't like tea. Seems really nice for a vampire, but also seems kinda... what's the word? Worn out? Jaded. Was in love with a human woman named Josie. Need to try to babble a little less around him.

Niko: Has Eric's face, which is really weird. Can't really read him at all. He's kind of... how should I put it? Like a statue. A polite statue with a poker face that he doesn't really want you to see past. And if that's what he wants, I don't really see a reason to fight it. Seems decent enough.

Rahne: KNOWS. Really sweet, also calls herself a mutant. She can could change from human form to wolf and back again. Misses her powers. Could be a good person to keep talking to about my telepathy.

Spike: Memory.

Guy in the orange spandex: Real jerk. Real narcissistic jerk. Misogynist. Stares at my tits and even lower, is completely unapologetic. Struck him on the face; would do so again if he doesn't learn his lesson. At least he didn't hit back, but that's still not saying much for him.


I'll update more as I wrap my head around everything.

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