Echizen: You can throw all the French around you want. It doesn't make you right.
Ludovic: Au contraire.

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Echizen: You can throw all the French around you want. It doesn't make you right.
Ludovic: Au contraire.
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why!!! don't!!! people!!! keep!!! their!!! dumb!!! comments!!! to!!! them!!! selves!!!
Jam ==> Wake up in a tank.
Wait, wait, wait. First we gotta figure out how you got here.
You were still asleep when someone saw you and called animal control, and you'd been hauled out with nets. Snarling the whole while, of course; you'd just woken up, and last night was pretty painful for you. The water of the hot tub may or may not be stained with the red of blood. Your forearms burn.
They'd tangled you in the net and dragged you out, but as soon as the sunlight hit you, you practically screamed. They paused for a moment while you squirmed back into the shade. Then one of the two went to the truck and got out a tarp, while the other injected you with a tranquilizer. The last thing you remember is them throwing the tarp over you and lifting you from the ground, and all the while you're gasping for air before you black out.
The tank you wake up in is a large one - for fish, that is. You can tell it's the biggest one they have. But it's cramped for you, even more so than the hot tub was.
Your eyes blaze red beneath the flashing colors of your skulltop, your fangs bared as you wait for someone to come in.
At least it can never be said that you're oblivious as to why you're so alone. You push people away. You do it on purpose. It saves you the heartbreak of having them leave you.
You do, however, wish that you could let people in for once.
You put Taffy down for a nap swaddled in your jacket and set in a bundle on the rusted bleachers of the old gymnasium, and head for the stairs to the roof; slowly, so as to not miss anything color-wise.
Once there, you sit on the corner with your feet dangling over the edge. You wonder idly what it would feel like to jump, but you wouldn't look forward to the pain of doing so.