Lyss' Insanity Lair - ALC Punk! | Sublime: Forever Pie

[Original Char/Marvel uni] Sublime: Forever Pie shree-@yahoo.com Mar 29, 2001 13:18 PST
Disclaimer: Marvel owns the universe, I'm merely playing in it. No money is being made.
Warning: some bad language. And this (so far) contains no Established Characters. Yes, people who abhor Original Characters should run. Booga-booga!

Sublime: Forever Pie
by ALC Punk!

On the couch lounges another woman. Straight brown hair, bowl-cut around a pixie face. She'd shoot me if she heard that, of course. She's Cara. And she's got this thing for grundge; I don't get it, personally. But, y'know, she's got the whole look down. Baggy pants, funky high-tops, flannel shirt... Oh, yeah, and the McCartney glasses. Today they're purple tinted.

Becky, the owner of the bra under the window, is sitting--well, lying--under the coffee table. She's just wearing pajama bottoms in red cotton with little teddy bears on them. And a bra not unlike the one under the window. Her red hair is spread all over the rug sort of messily. And Jennifer's painting her toenails pink and blue.

Now, Jennifer, she's sitting in the other chair, half in front of the TV. Which is great, 'cause I can't stand the movie they're watching. J forgot to wash her hair this morning, so the black mess is sticking up all over the place like a bird's nest. And don't get me started on those filthy jean shorts she's wearing. Or the--well, fuck, that's MY Depeche Mode Tour shirt. Bitch is getting it more dirty.

It's signed, y'know.

And they don't do that often, y'know. Nope. It got signed ages ago, back when rock was cool, and David Gahan was actually sexy.

But I digress. I'm Rita. And, like normal, I'm perfectly pressed from my sleek blonde hair to the tips of my black sable Keds.

And it's time to get ready for yet another fun mission. Oh. Joy.

"Mandy, get your boots out of my way."

Looking up at Rita, Mandy flashed a grin. "Make me."

Rita shrugged, "Fine." She stepped back and narrowed her eyes in concentration. For a moment, nothing happened. And then Mandy's legs jerked sideways, sending her sprawling out of the chair as the precarious balance was overset. With a triumphant smile, Rita strolled past where Mandy lay and perched on the edge of the windowsill.

Rolling her eyes, Cara sat up. "God, do you two EVER stop?"

A moment of silence filled the room. Becky was rubbing her forehead where she'd bumped it on the coffee table in her haste to get up. Mandy sat up, indian-style and grinned at Rita. The other blonde grinned back.

"No, they don't," Jennifer replied boredly. "Remember? They're both *blonde*. They never stop. Duh."

"Blondes 4-Ever, the new porno from Lackluster!" Becky cracked.

"Yah." Cara muttered.

Mandy snickered, "Two blondes doing it. Now, you can get behind that, can't you Becky?"

With a wink, the redhead half-hung over the back of the couch and smooched Mandy. "If you say so, bay-bee."

"God, we're pathetic," Jennifer flopped back in her chair, "All we think about is sex, sex, and more sex."

"And killing."

"And missions!"

"And perfecting ourselves through the use of orgasm." Rita said.

"And chocolate?" Mandy asked hopefully.

"Yeah, and chocolate," Cara said. She pondered, "Hey, anyone for Tippins?"

"Pie run!"

Don't ask me why I'm here. You people set this up, y'know? I mean, really, what'd you want, someone to come and smoke pot all day? Hey, I may wear this shit, but I don't do it. Fft.

Maybe it's that I like doing what I do best--oh, bite me, that's not copyrighted to anyone.

Anyway... Yeah. I'm in the living room, right? We all are, well, almost. Rita's standing in the kitchen doorway lording it all over us. Becky's trying to get Mandy to jump her while J's painting her toenails. I swear, Becky would do anything that had two legs and decent tits.

I've got the couch, right between the two exuders of much sexual tension. It's not that Mandy isn't bi, or anything, it's that she likes the chase. You should have seen how long that guy Darren once chased her. I swear he got no sex for six months.

Y'know, I think Mandy and Rita once dated the same guy. Wonder if he got sex.

Not that it matters. They like to play fight all the *damned* time. It's irritating. Maybe it's because they're both blonde. Or something like that. Eh. It doesn't matter.

Several Hours Earlier

Shawna Williams finished filling in the form and quickly double-checked that she'd gotten everything right. She winced at a few of the mistakes she'd had to scratch out. Blobs of black ink just look wrong on a job application.

"Are you done, dear?" The nice blonde lady sitting across from her was smiling in that way that Shawna new spelled disaster for her chances of being hired.

"Yes. Hang on." She reached into the large bag that sat next to her chair and rummaged. Sweat started out on her forehead. The silk and velvet she was wearing was damned hot and getting worse. And the woman across from her was waiting with an air of impatience that made Shawna feel a massive blush coming on. "Ah, here." She pulled out a sheaf of white papers and peeled off the top two. "My application, and my resume." She held them out.

"Thank you, dear." Ms. Phillips smiled even tighter, "I'm sure it will be helpful. We'll look over these, and let you know." She stood, "I'm sure you can find your way out, can't you, dear?"

"Y-yes. Yes, ma'am. And--thank you!" She squeaked as the stately woman left the small conference room.

"Oh, *that* went well." Shawna banged her forehead on the table top and sighed. "C'mon, doofus. You can do better than this."

"Excuse me."

She looked up. It was another one of the perfectly coiffed women in the office. "Yes?"

"We need this room, if you could please leave."

"Ah. Yeah. Hang on." Scrabbling her papers and files back into the bag, she stood, and then swore as she up-ended the chair. "Erk. Sorry about that. Um. Bye. Thanks!"

I'm not sure why I'm writing this. Y'know, journals and diaries aren't really my style. So. Me. Yeah, about me I'm supposed to be writing something. Um.

I'm Jennifer. I make illusions. That about covers it.

I can't believe it went that bad. I can't believe I was such a clutz. Oh, God, no one's ever going to hire me and I'm going to disappoint my parents, flunk out of school and never do anything with my life. I should just go walk in front of a train.

Shawna was miserable.

Being miserable required rain, which there was in abundance. It also required morose and slow, trudging steps. Which she was attempting, but her natural stride was more free and it kept breaking into the slow sludge. She'd forgotten an umbrella, and her rain coat. And she was wearing silk.

After leaving the interview, she'd gone home. Acted bright and cheerful and happy. Ate. And then left after midnight when she couldn't sleep. It had seemed a good idea at the time to wear her silk blouse...

It's all going to be ruined, and I haven't money to dry-clean it. The only thing I have that looks decent for interviews, and it's ruined. Shit. Shitshitshitshit.

"SHIT!" She yelled. "It's fucking unfair, dammit!"

The words echoed around the street. A few people looked up from their uninterested lives and then continued ignoring one small, huddled, miserable young woman. The echoes laughed around her and she swore again, wishing it made her feel better.

"Somethin' wrong, honey?"

With a start, Shawna stared at the woman approaching her. She was short and fat, her hair greasy and piled under a rancid gray shall. A black dress hung from her frame. "I-I..." Backing away from the peering black eyes that seemed to *know* her, know things they shouldn't. A shiver ran down her spine, "I'm fine, thank you. I've got to-go. Thanks." She turned and began walking the way she'd come.

It was then that Shawna realised she wasn't really sure where she was.

I walked too far, feeling sorry for myself. This must still be Eighth Street. But... Where?

She sped up, attempting to locate a cross-street, a sign, anything. Behind her, there was a soft muttering, whispering. Something about "pretty, she's so pretty. She's running, why is she running away?"

I'm running away. I'm running away because you frighten me. Because you know things about me--or, seem to. Or... I don't know. I'm running, I'm always running...

With a start, Shawna turned and looked back at the woman. "Who are you?"

"Pretty-pretty. She's pretty-pretty, granny." The voice came from a tall, thin man. He was almost completely white, even the fluffy hair on his head was that colour, floating around his head like an aereole. "Pretty-pretty. Can I have her?"

"She ran from us, my lad, of course you can have her." Granny flashed sharp teeth at Shawna. "That was silly, my dear."

"I don't understand." Shawna was backing away instinctually, something akin to dread filling her. The rain was falling more steadily, soaking her to the skin, making her shiver.

"She smells so sweet, Granny." He stepped forward and oozed at Shawna.

The young woman continued backing up as they advanced. Her hair was plastered to her skull, sticking up in places. And she was sure her mascara was running, along with her eyeshadow. "What are you?"

He smiled, flashing fang, "Can't you guess, little pretty-pretty?"

"Oh my god..." She jumped as her back hit wall. "You're... You're going to suck my blood." A whimper escaped her throat as he leaned closer. "You're..." She put her hands up, trying to stop him, but he was so strong. Her right hand was over where his heart would be. As if sensing her regard, the organ pumped, once. "...vampires."

"--erk.""

Eyes wide, he staggered back from her, pawing at his chest. Finding nothing as his face turned pale, he slowly collapsed. Life faded from the pile of bone and rags that he'd become. Granny looked at her, hatred shining in her eyes. "My baby boy. You've killed him, you little bitch."

"I--he--"

"For that," A flutter of wind passed them by, and Granny was leaning against Shawna, breath gusting past her face as she talked, "you die."

"Aw, dayam!"

"I can't believe it's closed."

"Fuck." Cara said with a heartfelt sigh.

"No pieee," Mandy whined. "That bites." She kicked the side of the door.

Rita nodded, "Indeed."

The five stood in front of Tippins and peered wistfully in at the racks of pies. They sat gleaming and luscious behind the cashier's stand. Calling, beckoning almost. The front of the restaurant contained two sets of glass doors. An outer, and an inner seperated by a short foyer.

"I can't belIEVE this!" Becky stamped a clogged foot.

"Well, it's your fault," Cara pointed out, "You had to get all dressed and couldn't fucking make up your mind."

Becky shrugged her black lace clad shoulders, "Well... Y'know, a girl's gotta look her best when going out on the town." She was clad in a fire-engine red leather mini and green fishnets. Brown clogs were her current footwear.

"Don't they look lovely?" Rita asked.

"They do," Cara replied.

A smile crossed Mandy's face. "Becky, how long?"

"Ten seconds, tops." The redhead replied after a glance at the lock on the doors.

"There's a camera behind the register," Jennifer said, "It probably covers the area you'd have to cross."

"Can you keep it covered?"

"Duh."

"Rita?"

"The inner door has a bolt." The sleek blonde replied. "Hang on." She stepped up to the outer door, palms at waist-height and pointing into the building. They hovered over the glass of the door, as she closed her eyes. A bolt, she thought, a long, slim--er, bolt. Right. It's metallic, and real small. Almost tiny. And it would slide open.

After all, what else could it do?

"Inner door, check," She announced as she stepped back. Her temples were pounding from the effort, as if she'd answered a 500-question essay test in Trig.

"Right, lock up your women," Becky cracked as she knelt in front of the door. Said movement caused her skirt to ride up to indecent levels.

Mandy stood to her left, watching the door. "J?"

"They're seeing visions of sugarplums."

"Good."

"I'm in!"

"C, time me." With a gentle shove, Mandy slipped into the store, sauntered across the lobby and behind the counter. The shelving was glass-fronted, but the doors weren't locked--piece of luck. She quickly grabbed a box from behind the sign that read 'French Silk' and set it on the counter. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a ten dollar bill and a pad of Post-Its. Quickly, she scrawled a message on the top sheet, pulled it off and stuck it to the bill which she placed inside the case in the spot she'd taken the pie from.

Then she turned and strolled back the way she'd come, shutting the inner door as she stepped through it.

"Relock. C, time?"

"Fifty seconds." replied the pixie.

"Cool."

"Inner door's locked."

A moment passed, and then Becky stood, "Outer, check."

"Right, let's get somewhere we can eat this pie."

"Dude!" Jennifer punched a fist in the air, "We fucking rock!"

"Ahem. Can I help you ladies?"

A policeman stood there. He was alone, night-stick in hand. And he'd probably seen some of what had gone on--if not all of it. Mandy smiled at him. "No, thanks. We're on our way home."

"Mhm. And you ladies wouldn't mind explaining the pie you're carrying, would you?"

"Oh! This pie?" Rita shrugged, "We went to Tippins--got there as it was closing, and they went ahead and sold us one. Aren't they so nice?"

"Yes. And that story would be believable, except... Ladies, Tippins closed two hours ago."

Silence covered the five for a moment, and then Jennifer laughed. "Oh! Is that the time? No wonder they were so irate. Look, why don't we give you the pie, you can take it back to them, and we'll call it even?"

"Give *me* the pie?" He blinked in confusion then nodded, "That would be appropriate."

"Okay!" With a smile, Jennifer held it out to him.

He rubbed his eyes as he took it. It seemed to be wavering, somehow. And it was very light. Almost like it didn't exist--with a wink, the pie dissipated into nothingness. "Hey!" Casting a look around him, he noted that all five women had disappeared without a trace. "I don't think I'll be calling this one in." He muttered.

Several feet away, said five were frozen, waiting for him to leave. A moment later he did, his footsteps travelling further and further away. A collective sigh echoed in the tiny alley. Cara broke the silence, "God, another fucking alley. What is it with alleys and us, huh?"

"I don't wanna know the answer," Mandy replied. "Anyway," She held up the pie box, "how about we eat on the roof?"

"Roof! Yeah, I can get up on that." Jennifer quipped.

"Well, then we need a fire escape."

"Should be one a bit further down here, somewhere--ah!" Cara smirked and pointed above herself, "And here we have: one fire escape, ladies."

"Oh, god, I hate heights," Becky moaned.

"Ah, deal with it, hooker-in-training." Cara said as she jumped upwards and caught the lower end of the ladder. She pulled herself up and hit the release as Becky sputtered incoherently. "If you wanna catch me, Becks, ya gotta climb." With that, the brown-haired woman was clattering up the black iron steps.

"I hate climbing in clogs."

"Oh, stop whinging," Jennifer snapped, "You're not wearing high-heels." She looked down at her boots and sighed, "The last time I wear five-inch heels..."

"Your own fault," Mandy pointed out, "Besides, *I*'m climbing with a pie in one hand, so shut the fuck up."

"Up, blondie." Rita directed, "I'll catch the pie if you drop it."

"Right-o." Mandy carefully hooked her left arm around a rung and stepped on.

She then leaned against the ladder, unhooked her left arm and moved it up. Hooking it again, she repeated the whole operation. And continued until she was level with the first level piece of grate. There she carefully put the pie down and crawled onto it. Rita followed her a moment later, then leaned back down the ladder and began pulling it back up.

A moment later the two were clattering up behind the other three.

Once at the top, they all stopped and panted. "How many floors was that?"

"Dunno, Mand, I stopped counting at 20."

"Dayam. Whose bright idea was this, anyway?"

"Yours, Mandy."

"Oh. Fuck."

"Ah, hush. Anyway, who's going up the roof first?"

At the top of the fire escape, though they were, there was still a bit more wall to get over. It wasn't much more than five feet, but there was a pie to consider. While the two blondes contemplated this, the other three made their way up to the roof.

Mandy went first, boosted up by Rita. She leaned back over and got the pie, handed it to Jennifer, and reached down a hand to help Rita up.

A moment later, all five were sitting on the far side, happily ensconced in the small section that did NOT have gravel on it.

"So, how are we eating this?"

"Fingers."

Mandy nodded, "Okay. And, to cut it up?" There was a rustle of movement, and she found four knives of varying lengths being offered to her. She grinned, "Thanks, I'll use my own."

French Silk pie has got to be my fave. There's something about chocolate and cream and bits of crust that just.. Mmmm. I also like rooftops, of course. Something about being up above everyone else is so cool.

Of course, I prefer getting it during normal, working hours, but. Eh. They can deal. I'm sure the clerk in the morning is going to wonder who left them a ten-spot and a note with 'Thanks for the Piemeries!' on it. Oh, well. Not my problem.

Becky is, though. I'm not sure if she's serious or not, and God, do I not need another complication at this point. It's bad enough I'm in nominal tactical charge of us. Being in a relationship might floor me. Besides, she's not as easy to read as my computers.

Still...

Y'know, the sky at night like this is so gorgeous. Even with the street lights, there's this sense of majesty, of being infinitely small in a finite universe.

Of course, I'm sure Rita would tell me I'm being needlessly romantic. Ah. Fuck her, anyway.

"So now what?" Jennifer was lounging against the wall that ran around the edge of the roof.

"I dunno." Becky shrugged, "Maybe we could sing songs or something."

"Hell, no, you're tone deaf."

Becky half-heartedly flipped her off, then yawned like a contented cat. "I say we all go home and sleep."

"Sleep. Bor-ing." Jennifer announced.

"What she said," Cara called from her position of upside-downness. She'd sat on the ledge and flopped over backwards. Her hair was now dragging in gravel and dust.

"Well..." Mandy shrugged, "I've got... a new thingie. We could... try it out."

"Cool."

The women stood, as if eager to try out this new thing. Only one of the five even knew what it was. Though the others were frantically trying to guess.

"Soo...?"

"Becky, you anchor this end. I'll anchor the other." Mandy made them stand next to each other and link arms. "Everyone hold really tight, all right?"

"Yo."

"Got it."

A shrug passed down from the others. Mandy grinned, "Right, now, we get up on the wall here."

Moments passed, then all were standing there, staring out at the city. "We're up high." Jennifer noted.

"I fucking hate this. Mandy, you SO owe me," Becky muttered.

"Look ma, I'm king o' the world!" Cara crowed into the wind.

Air fluttered around them, blowing the sweat and dust away. It smelled vaguely of rain, a promise of things to come, maybe.

"Right. And off we go!" Mandy stepped forward, unbalancing the other four and plunging them off the roof.

"Oh, SHIT!"

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuugh!"

"Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck..."

"Boriiinnng..."

"Alleeeeey--oop!" Mandy pulled the trigger on the device in her hand. A small grapple shot out, whirling away into the air and latching onto the side of a building. For a moment, it teetered, then tiny filaments drilled in and clung. She held on to the handle as the line pulled taut and they began swinging out.

At the top of the swing, there was another shriek from Becky, then they dropped again. The swings got less and less high, until eventually, they all hung in a line, Mandy at the top.

Becky's feet were about a yard from the sidewalk. With a shriek of triumph, she released Jennifer and dropped, landing and breaking her fall with a tumble. Jennifer and Cara followed. Rita chuckled. "Mandy, dear, you need to lower us, I don't need a broken wrist."

"Yes, mum." Fiddling with one of the buttons on the handset, she lowered them. A moment later, her feet on the ground, Mandy raised a hand. "Yes! It works!"

"Dun-nuh-nuh-nuh-BATMAN! She's BATMAN!" Jennifer sing-songed.

With a snort, Mandy sent the release message along the line and it began coiling onto the ground silently. A moment after, the grapple clinked to the ground and she started winching it back into the contraption. "Yes, but this may someday save our asses, so I AM your savior, baby."

Cara replied by gracing Mandy with her middle finger. Becky sniffed.

A scream echoed through the air.

"That was a scream."

"No, it wasn't." Cara scoffed.

Jennifer bounced on her toes and performed an elaborate twirl, "Hark, a scream!"

"The sun is the East," Mandy announced.

"And Juliet is the sun!" Jennifer replied.

"No, I really heard a scream--"

Another one echoed past them.

"And there's another!"

"To the Batmobile!"

"Avengers to the rescue!"

"That's JLA, thanks."

"Right, off we go."

Cara linked arms with Jennifer, "One two three four five six seven eight! Schlemiel, schlemazel, Hassenpfeffer Incorporated!" They shouted.

"We're gonna do it. Yay us." Becky said weakly.

I hate heights. I really fucking hate them. They ALL know that, yet they continually drag me all over the sky, like they'll prove I don't, or something.

Maybe if I kicked their asses, or shot them all, they'd stop. Happy thought. I could start with Rita.

She REALLY gets me. I mean, what is her fucking deal? She's so straight, you could set her against a wall as a level! Yet, she continually keeps this stupid Blonde thing up with Mandy. ARGH.

It's enough to drive a girl crazy.

Not that... Well, fine. I lust after Mandy like a dog in heat. But she is SO "I'm Commander, Don't Touch Me, We Might Break The Team Up" It makes me fucking irritated.

Then I want to beat her senseless and cuddle her up because, in a way, she's right.

"Why are we going towards a scream again?"

"Standard horror movie cliche--if we do, one of us will die."

"Let it be me, then," Becky moaned, "All I want is to go curl up and sleep."

"We get to be knights in shining armour, baby!"

"Oh, joy." Rita rolled her eyes, "I'm just drooling for that shiny plate metal that will weigh me down and broil me on a warm day in winter."

"Me, I always thought the chainmail stuff was more versatile," Jennifer mused, "I mean, it's mesh, so it allows you to breathe."

"Yo. We're here." Cara nodded to Mandy, "Plan?"

"Three of us go in, assess the sitch. If we need backup, we'll call." She looked at them, "Becky, Rita, you're with me. C, J, make yourselves scarce."

"Yes, boss."

"Yo."

Shawna trembled as the old woman stepped closer to her. There was such anger and hatred in those dark eyes.

"Whoa."

"Hey, hey, hey, what have we here?"

"One UNdead vamp, one dead vamp, and one victim." Rita catalogued.

"Hey, cutie," Becky winked at Shawna, "You get the one on the ground, or did they fight over you?"

Mandy wrinkled her nose at the hag, "It certainly wasn't a lovers' quarrel."

"I-I did it."

"Yesss." The hag hissed, glaring at them. "She killed him. My baby boy. And so she dies."

"No no no," Becky corected, "She's too cute to die."

"Beside," Rita smiled, "You're dead." She'd taken the time to calmly move closer to the hag and now thrust a slim wooden blade through her heart. A strangled cry escaped the vampire, and then she collapsed.

"Shouldn't that be undead?" Mandy asked.

"Nah."

"I-I'm Shawna," The dark-haired girl moved closer to them, holding out a trembling hand, "Thanks so much. I--"

"Hey, kid." Mandy nodded to her. "No worries."

"Yeah, it's sort of our job." Becky noted.

"That's nice." A half-laughed escaped the girl, ending in a sob, "Having a job must be..."

"Well, okay, so it's not exactly our job, but, y'know, sort of..." Becky continued rambling.

Another sob echoed through the night and Shawna dropped to her knees as if her legs had gone. Tears glittered in the lights from the street as she cried openly. "It's all over. I can't do it anymore!"

Mandy knelt next to her, gently laying a hand on her shoulder. "Do what?"

"Look for a job," Shawna stared at her through the tears, "It's the only thing I ever do. And I never get one. Not one. Not unless someone offers me money to have sex with them." She ran a hand over her nose and sniffed, then began crying again.

"Ah." Mandy looked up at Rita. The other blonde nodded and slipped back out into the night, returning a few moments later with Cara and Jennifer.

"I try and try and try and no one wants me. I'm over-qualified and under-useful. And nothing helps." Shawna blew her nose in the handkerchief someone handed her. "And then there are those who find out I tested positive as a mutant, and they don't even act polite as they toss my resume in the trash."

"Been there, done that." Jennifer noted. She knelt on Shawna's other side. "It's tough, eh?"

"Yeah." Shawna sniffed, startled to find she wasn't crying anymore.

"Being all alone in the world, no one there to care, no one to help..." Jennifer stared at Mandy as she spoke. A wink answered her. "Makes a girl almost want to throw it all away."

"Jump off a bridge," Cara commented.

"Slice my wrists so the blood is all pretty on my white bathroom walls," Becky said softly.

Rita shrugged, "Drive your car off the pier."

"Climb the rail at the Empire State." Mandy said.

"Go walking in a bad part of town, hoping the things in the dark would take me," Shawna stared down at the pavement and winced. "Yeah."

"So... What can you do?" Mandy asked conversationally after the silence had grown too big.

"Um... Here, it's in my resume." Fumbling, Shawna pulled one out and handed it over.

Mandy read down the printed page, "Hrm... Says here you know computers, a bit of broadcasting, and you write." She looked at Shawna, "Anything else?"

"I can cook? I dabble in painting, and I can sing."

"Oh, good, someone can take Becky's spot in the karaoke contests!" Cara grinned at Shawna.

"Huh?"

Mandy chuckled at the confused look on the girl's face. "Look, I'm Mandy, this is Cara, Jennifer, Rita, and Becky."

"Hi." Shawna narrowed her eyes, "You're not strippers, are you?"

Rita choked as the other four laughed.

Becky finally answered Shawna, "No, we're not. We're, um..." She looked at Mandy, "You tell her, boss."

"Boss. Right." Mandy choked down the rest of her laughter and smiled at Shawna, "We're, um... You could say we're like..."

"We're a team." Rita said, "We do things--steal things, fix things, save people. Anything that needs doing."

"I don't understand."

"I didn't, either," Cara pointed out. "I had to be shown, remember?"

"Yeah," Mandy smiled. "Shawna, I give you my word we don't want to hurt you. Will you come with us, so we can show you?"

"I..." She stared at them. They stood there so calmly, so nonchalantly. As if it didn't matter what she said, they wouldn't mind either way. And they had so much confidence. It was almost unconscious, they stood... Ready to take the world on, even if they had to do it stark naked and covered in honey. "Okay."

...and that's how it started.

It was so wierd, I nearly die, kill a vampire, nearly die again... Then these strange women show up and take me home with them.

Hey, at least this place is interesting. The building must be huge. And abandoned if you go by the outside. There's rooms everywhere. One has computers that have to be over ten years old. At least, Mandy said she was really proud of her Commodore 64. Eh.

The sleeping arrangements are kind of odd. The bedroom is one huge area, with beds for all. If we want to sleep alone, we can--but only in another room that has no heat. It's not bad, I guess. Besides, if I want to get away from all of them, I can always curl up on the roof, or in the basement.

Lots of bathrooms. This is a good thing. Especially when Becky's used all the hot water.

Heh. Must dash now. More later.