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vs cleese: part 4Dory vs Cleese
The tv screen was taken over by the widely known announcer from the infamous Byako Round Robin.
Greetings Byakonians! This is your lovable Jasae Plushie reporting on the scene of a horrific battle from earlier this fine day! The screen shifted to footage of a large rubble pile in the middle of the artisan square. Witnesses claim that this pile was once a 1200ft bot and that a small girl turned it into what you see now. Currently the situation is being investigated, the girl has not been spotted since the event.-
No really Boss, turn on the news, they're showing a 'composite sketch' of me from the bot carnage. Fayina stared at the phone after being hung up on.
vs cleese: part 3Dory vs Cleese
They reached the street outside the hotel easily enough, it was one of the main reasons she stayed so connected to Matilda. Matilda's hotel was a great place to use for meeting with her people, or other events, and she would probably be back for a drink or two after the fight. But as for this moment in time she had a far different desire. Victory, and of course, that was something Dory was very good at obtaining. Though, she did not get far down the street before a large monster on the horizon caught her eye. From what she could see it looked very metallic, probably a bot of some sort. That would not have made much difference to her, except a TV in a shop to her side was showing that announcer saying that the 'finalists were helping take down these massive weapons'. Displeased that she had not heard about this before or rather not cared to find out about something so unrelated to the fight at hand, She glanced back at young Fayina.
It seems your mission has c
vs cleese: part 2Dory vs Cleese
She had been unsure about using one of Kenneth's 'girls' to collect all the info she would require in her match... But really she was impressed. The manila folder was almost too full to carry, much like the ones Illia would bring her, and it was even neatly organized. Reading through the vast number of pages gave Dory a likely unfair advantage, but she didn't really care. If he wanted that much information on her he could've looked himself or hired someone.
Interesting, it would seem that he has a weakness for-
The door slammed open with a grinning young girl standing where it had once been. Hello miss. You called?
Good morning Fayina. Dory slid the manila folder into her desk and lifted herself out of the chair. She was always amazed at the young girl's strength, she certainly didn't look the part. If anything, Fayina looked like one who skipped a few too many meals. We have a small fight today.
vs cleese: part 1Dory vs Cleese
With a faint click the door leading into the hotel room closed. But that was enough. A woman with blonde hair even brighter then her skin turned her attention from the window and her cig to her guest.
Ah, Illia I thought it was you. A faint smile crossed her lips, something like a smirk but not as cocky. Resting her arms on a desk in front of her, she put out the cig and put away her holder. I have a job for you.
The one called Illia let out a girlish giggle as she slid onto the desk, her legs crossed in a feminine manner. I thought so. Her tone was flirtatious and light hearted. Placing her hands on her knees she smiled over to the woman and continued. What is the task?
Search and capture. The woman handed a paper over to the overly libidinous female and continued to speak as she read it over. It seems that someone has put out a contract on the life of that announcer in that one contest that I joined
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
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