[color=2e3192][h1][center]Alison Fitzpatrick[/center][/h1][/color]
[color=2e3192][h2][center]Club Carousel, Morning[/center][/h2][/color]

[i]"The floor is for rats and dust, you may sleep in the chair." Emerald inhaled abruptly. "It extends, an old bat, but comfy as hell."[/i]

Alison frowned and folded her arms, resting them underneath her bosom and lowering her head. She had been grateful for Emerald's help, but she had deteriorated in a matter of days, seemingly not even by events of her own fault. Forces beyond her understanding had thrown away her exciting adventure to New York, and reality had crashed into Club Carousel like a freight train.

"...Thank you. I'll make it up to you somehow. I just don't know how yet...I'll find a job, and I'll help you pay rent until I can find a new place of my own."