voice;

....You've got to shitting me.

[Pause, oh the truth settles in. Someone hears a ticking.]

No. No, no, no, no! Goddammit, I've been here for too fucking long for this to just--- I don't believe this shit. Fucking son of a bitch, City. You'll be sorry, you hear me? You'll be sorry you decided to pull me back to this shit hole.

I really believed for a little while.... You made a fool out of me. I was right there. I was home, I was this close....

[Shattering glass and the device gets switched off. Guess who is back from her brief, brief trip home. Ask her about it. I dare you.]

Private to Boy Blue;
I want my apartment.
end;

Decisions, decisions.

Money would be nice, however that means that it is money here. I've had money here. More would get me more shit that's here. Always here. I've been here for three fucking years.

And an object, from home? I have what I want. And even though it has been scratched like a vintage record, my baby still is my baby. I don't need two. I'm a one katana gal.

Which leaves only one thing.

[ooc; Do you really have to guess about her choice? All tags will be treated as backtags cuz this bitch has pressed the button.]

October wasn't so bad, you whiners. You'll all be so damn happy with the holiday's rolling in. It's all superficial anyway.

As for me, more time. A shit ton of waiting, I'm getting good at this waiting game crap. Who would have imagined? I don't think anyone I knew. They're not here to confirm or deny, take my word for it.

Now...wait a second. Looks like we've got ourselves a curse. This could be good.

[ooc; I'm going to work, this post is backdated y'all.]

Are there any festivities this weekend that won't involve children or dressing up? Or pumpkins. It's a crying shame I have to be this specific.

[ooc; I'll be heading to work in a while so there will be a heck of a lot of backdating. ...And when the time comes ttly 4th wall this mother.]

No, I did not go chase the goddamn bear. And who is to say that you actually win anything off of that? Hmm?

Maybe you haven't noticed, but the City is short one crazy Asian. I'm sure you didn't. There's so much that passes under the radar. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one to see. Not that I care all too much. Makes my pending decision on getting a roommate easier. If I decide that is. The fish aren't so bad most of the time. Annoying, needy little fuckers that they are. I wish they could feed themselves.

Is there anything beyond apathy? For all that Eastern thought I was exposed to about emptying the mind, clearing the conscience and shit I think at last I've come to nothing. There's no nirvana. It leaves me thirsty.

I want a curse where I can kill things. Again. And again. And again.

I promise not to do too much of anything at a party ever again. This trip is just no damn good. Where's the religious experience? Where's seeing colors and shit? Absolute waste of a good night out.

He was kinda cute though.

Anyway, I am sick of bumming off cigarettes from creeps. Someone get me a real box. I don't care what. Help a girl out?

[audio;]

[Her already low voice has dropped to a lower tone. Maybe to keep steady? She speaks, hushed and hoarse.]

Heh. I been locked up before. That was for a blotched job, not on my part. I'm a killer. That's who I am. Y'can hurt me. Fuck it, you can kill me. But you can't make me sorry.

Hear that?

[Ah, there's still piss and vinegar in there. She yells and it sounds painful, Elle doesn't care.]

Do you hear that you sons of bitches? I AM NOT SORRY.

[Static consumes the audio until there is breathing. Speaking lowly as before, she continues:]

I'll get out of here. That's a fucking promise.

I can say, without hesitation, that that shit has never happened before. Aliens, animals, robots, gender swaps, the fucking Titanic... Now we have a mountain. I hate it. It better not be sticking around. Did some deity get sick of seeing ugly flat land all around?

For those interested in rooming with me, I haven't made up my mind. Be patient, if you're already itching for an answer then fuck off. I'll do it when I'll do it. Most of you reminded me why I've held out this long to begin with.

I'm no poet laureate by a long shot but for fuck's sake, that's some unbearable word trash. Any more of that tripe besides the curse's typical twenty four hours and I would have been indiscriminately homicidal. You think I'm joking. That's funny.

Who the hell writes poetry for pleasure without trying to get into someone's pants? Or try and make yourself look smarter than you are? In case you didn't notice, I'm not much of a fan of the new bull. Go figure.

Filtered from That Fucking Bitch Cindy//Unhackable;

I tried to get a roommate some time ago. I've given it more thought. What the hell do I have to lose? More sanity?

Do You Need a Roommate? (If the answer is no, you're wasting both of our time.)
Name:
Gender:
Sexual Preference:
Occupation/Employment:
Smoker:
Pets:
Your Feelings on Violence:
Brief Self Description:
Your Fish Caretaking Skills:

I hate most animals. Hell, I suppose I could include people into the animal category. Life has its distinct order, someone who knows exactly what the fuck is up is on top. Some poor, pathetic bastard is on the bottom. There's a middle ground with parties with similar elements. This scale should never been disrupted by plants of all things.

This leads into birds, flight, you're following me if you are still reading. Anything that's airborne and ready to drop shit is a threat to a nice set of wheels. Goddamn do I miss my car. Altitude does not put one above the rest in the literal sense. That's why guns were invented. I love some moving targets.

How many times must I go through this? I was going to just sit back, steadily drink myself into a stupor til about early afternoon, sleep it off then wake up for some night action. But no, no, no, no. Fucking curses. Fucking City.

What the hell do you want? I'm armed. You're not. Consider this in length.

[ooc; Have at thee, 4th Wallers.]

Keep the mutant zoo animals away from me if you know what's good for you. It was kinda funny at first. Now it's just annoying. If you're smart you'll know that's not good.

I guess if I were to take action that'd be animal cruelty. Harassment is a kind of cruelty too. Minor, but still. Let's not argue. Fuck off.

audio;

[Shots are fired on the line with no prelude.]

YOU SON OF A BITCH!

[A few more shots.]

How the hell am I supposed to go on like this, huh? I can't get through one day. Sure I can kill a small army but I can't even BATHE? I'm a freak.

I've always had my reasons for doing as I do. Always. I find myself in a transitional stage that's not just a fork in the road. I have my Hattori Hanzo sword. I'm my own boss. As far as the City goes, I'm kept. No Budd. That's it. I can do whatever the hell I want.

For the first time in sometime, I can't think of what. Coke, sex, ammo...it's all so attainable.

Now what, huh?

One of the fish died. Shit.

I'll be damned. Budd's gone. And here I was thinking he was hiding out in the liquor cabinet again. He crawled out of here, quiet as a church mouse. 

...Good riddance to bad rubbish. Could fight worth shit. And worst of all? Worst of all that motherfucker had a second lease for living and did the same fucking thing. Drinks at the Coliseum. Call it a celebration. It is. The first round is on me. From there you're on your own.

Tomorrow I'll find that hole in the wall where he's been hiding and see if there's anything worth my time. I doubt it. ...those damn brothers are nothing but disappointment.

The City was pleasant yesterday.

Good luck to everyone playing hero or idiot. Put on a real show will you? Bombs, rocket launchers, all that good stuff. Just know if my place endures damage, you're fucked.

The storm's boring. Unless it's going to rain money again, it can stop any time.

That wish day, I got the severed head of a stranger. Turns out I should have been more specific. The bitch's name was Beatrix Potter. Close, but not the one I wanted. I don't believe I needed to research that shit.

Today I'll work on clearing out the old shit from my liquor cabinet.

The guest list for that last curse was shorter than I thought it'd be. That leaves less for me to clean up.

Mickey Knox is no longer with us. I will call this a sure fire win for Elle Driver with a two to one ratio as far as points go. Sucker never stood a chance. I guess that the City is doing some spring cleaning. Out with the old, in with the new.

The most recent influx of newbies has brought about a few thoughts. First being that after all this time, I don't know why I'm here. I don't think there is a reason for me specifically. And if there was, I'm damn sure it is absolutely related to why Budd is here. Second thought is that I have an even greater inclination to apathy as time shuffles on.

Private to Mr. Eddie Blake//Unhackable;
I've got your lighter. You got something for me?
End;

Private//Fucking Unhackable;
Departed of Notable Mention
Bill
Brocklehurst, Nicholas
Constantine, John
Corinthian, T. (?)
Destruction
Ishii, O-Ren
Kiddo, Beatrix
Knox, Mickey
Styles, Christopher
Valentine, Faye
Vicious
Yubari, Gogo

This shit? Again? I don't even know why I bother giving a care. This whole damn place is a revolving door. Keep rolling in and out. One day, you'll know what it's like to be stuck in.

And I'll laugh at you. Until then, lap it up.

Some old, shut in bitch poet said something like friendship is an an estate. That makes sense. Property cut backs change with the times. I don't approve of this bullshit but I keep living on where I stand. Some other world is one asshole richer.

You know something though, no matter who comes or who goes, I'm not cracking. You piece of shit City, do as you will.

Filtered from Mickey Knox's Pussy Ass and That Fucking Bitch Cindy//Unhackable
The two that were interested in rooming, there are two of you. I need a selling point.
End;

Private//Unhackable
O-Ren, Bill, Destruction, John, Vicious, Faye, and Cori again.

And I'm still here. Either I'm doing something right or I'm doing something wrong.
End

Uncursed? I should know better than to feel optimistic, but a nice way to start out the month.

I had no idea that aquatic life could be so high maintenance. Or that whoever has the pitiful occupation of writing about them has no desire to engage the reader.

Filtered from Mickey Knox's Pussy Ass and That Fucking Bitch Cindy//Unhackable

I may as well make an attempt. There's living space available.  I'll ask the questions. You supply the answers.

Do You Need a Roommate? (If the answer is no, you're wasting both of our time.)
Name:
Gender:
Sexual Preference:
Occupation:
Smoker:
Pets:
State Your Feelings on Violence:
Brief Self Description: