You know what? Only one that I have in mind can come in.
- Locked due to inactivity on Oct 14, '20 3:54am
Thread Topic: You know what? Only one that I have in mind can come in.
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I smile also. "Yes, she is, but envy does not care who you are. It is good that you teacher her how to nurture life, for although I am an excellent cook, I cannot grow in a garden. I will teach her to the best of my abilities, and she will grow in kindness as much as she does power."
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I look toward Gabrielle. "That is true but I cannot see us getting envious. It shoulds like we have a plan then. Should we go back to her? She is probably getting nervous.Well, more nervous than before."
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"Yes, we should. We don't want her to leap completely out of her skin." We walked over to her. I held out my hand to her.
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I looked cautiously at the hand extended to me. Such a simple gesture, yet so symbolic. My hand hesitate over hers. Dare I take it? This was a decision that would most likely change my life forever. And maybe Priscilla's too. I took it cautiously.
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I smile at her. "It is okay, I promise. We don't want to hurt you. In fact, we want you to live here, in our home, with us. If you don't have any family, that is."
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"Priscilla," I blurt out. "What about her?"
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She wavered, and I thought everything was lost. But then, when she placed her hand in mine, I relaxed, not realizing that I was tense. I lifted her off the ground, and led her downstairs. "Does anyone live here?" I ask. I didn't want her to think that I was only going to use her for information, but I needed to know if we could live here. We needed a place to stay.
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(Hold on, let's go back, sorry)
"Who's Priscilla?" -
"No," she says. "But one of my friends is the same as me. Her name is Priscilla. She lives in the dumpsters nearby. That's where our kind end up; we're not really accepted into the community."
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I look a Ambrosia. 'Another one,' I mouth.
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(In answer to your question)
"Priscilla's my only friend. She's just like me, she acts the same around the music. She lives near the dumpsters. That's where our kind end up; we're not really accepted into the community." -
"Are you looking for our type?" I ask.
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(Yeah, sorry, that's what happens when one doesn't reload the page for a bit)
I nod. "Yes," I say to Gabrielle. -
"There's Paul, the bartender, down the street," I say, beginning to rattle off names. "The little orphan boy always looking for handouts. And the young woman working at the cafe downtown."
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Well, farewell! I hope we will be able to continue this entertaining roleplay later.
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