#v.undetermined;

[nonvictimam]

     “What, her? I thought she looked better here, among others just       as stupid as her. Don't sit on that statue."

[pourxamour]

                                                     thxravxn;

          A few years ago, in school, she'd been made to read a poem about what the world           would end with: Fire or ice. There was more to the poem, she was sure, but with           the outside world slowly making its way from her uncovered orifices to her brain,           she couldn't remember what it was. Her world was going to end in ice -- because            she was going to freeze to death before those firefighters made their way back            outside. Those were some lucky firefighters; if there was a fire in there -- which           she seriously doubted -- were going to die warm. If there wasn't, they'd be warm           still, because that apartment building was heated -- unlike the outside world.

          Allah must really hate her; a breeze passed by just then, pushing hair into her           mouth. The shampoo she used made her hair smell like her namesake, but it sure           didn't taste as good. Jasmine turned her head, trying to spit out the thick strands           while her hand came up to pull them out. She was trembling. Her apartment was           always kept at toasty eighty-five degrees, long pants weren't necessary when she           was sleeping. Pants weren't necessary when she was sleeping. Curse these           adorable booty shorts. Why hadn't anyone offered her a blanket?

          Jasmine rubbed her arms, huddling closer to...anyone. Literally anyone. Anyone           was better than being cold. Even her father's creepy, pedophilic second-hand-man           would be worth cuddling in order to keep this biting chill away. She clenched her           teeth to stop shivering. That didn't do much better. Brown fingers bushed away           more of her hair, getting to it before the wind could.

          She wasn't the only one near naked, was she? The man in front of her -- who she           was trying to cuddle against without having him notice -- was nearly in less clothes           than she was. The boxers covered more than her shorts did. Lucky son of a mule. 

[nonvictimam]

     “If I told you that you could see your parents,        a last time during life, what would your        response be?"

[nonvictimam]

incissam stands at your alter

     “What do your dragons protect,        little one?"

[nonvictimam]

northxrnwolf stands at your alter

     “Repeat yourself, would you?"

[nonvictimam]

littlewinterdove stands at your alter

     “Sansa, is it? Sansa Stark."

[nonvictimam]

p--hantomhive stands at your alter

     “Sweetheart, come here."

[nonvictimam]

winterfellsnowdrifts stands at your alter

     “Don't hurt him."