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    1. ScoundrelQueen 7 yrs ago

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I'm not a girl. I'm a unicorn.

To clarity: Only children and hopeless dreamers believe in me, and I'm probably fake.

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Ayo boop boop



Mina Louise Aldridge


The difference between products marketed as "flame resistant" and those that were actually flame proof was becoming a vital distinction in Mina's life. Flame resistant bed sheets, for example, had been a superfluous, bordering on mysterious, product at some point in her recent memory. Were they for people who smoked in bed? Wax play enthusiasts with poor depth perception?

They were not for people who caught fire in their sleep.

At exactly eight thirty AM, Mina caught fire. Exactly half a second later, an alarm went off and the automatic extinguishers installed over her bed responded to the fire sensor and exploded with a pfft of cold white foam. It smothered her (formerly) sleeping and (possibly more importantly) ablaze form with a frigid blast of chemical fluff. She blinked her eyes open.

"Well. Doesn't that just-" Sitting up, she ran a hand down her face and spit some foam off to the side. Sorry, sorry, she mumbled to the attendants hurrying in to right the mess, holding extinguishers in case the overhead had failed in its job. "I know this probably gets your goose. I can clean it, it's my own-"

"Not to worry, Miss, said a young woman already stripping the sheets. She and her cohorts were not the type to bat an eye at a woman still sporting her bonnet and covered in extinguisher spray. "You ought to get cleaned up for the meeting today."

"Oh, right. About forgot about that- Sorry. Again. Sorry. I'm gonna, uh." She sighed, nodded out the door before heading toward the showers, a change of clothes over one arm.

------


She made her way to the meeting room about half an hour after the chaos, hair tied back and clean clothes on. "Uh, morning. Y'all. Good to, uh. Good to see everyone all bright and early, huh?" She didn't address anyone in particular, more aiming for small talk as she poured herself a cup of coffee from the beverage tray.







Mitch sheet a comin'


Like any responsible, slightly irritated adult, Professor Byrne had hung toward the edge of the room as Norrevinter bowled Sterling into the table. It was hardly the first or last time Sterling would end up under a girl, if he was anything like his father, if Kora were like her aunt, she would throw people through worse than the breakfast table before she was gone. Schippers had it handled well enough, Maeve thought.

She would have intervened, had anything caught fire.

With one hand clasping the other wrist and her back as stiff as ever, the veteran eyed the crowd of amassed students: Some were trying to make friends, a few just trying not to be run over. A lot were late. She cast a sideways smile toward Toby Schippers, though did not wave. No need to embarrass the boy, after all. Though his sweater vest looked a bit askew after diving aside...

Poor kid. She'd assign him to an easy combat assignment. Maybe, like... The blind girl looked like a safe bet. She doubted they would damage on another too badly.

The lights dimmed as the presentation began. She kept scanning for a moment, when something caught the professor at a loss. Her eyes went wide for the briefest of seconds, one hand reaching in the hope that Kovalenko had stepped into the shadow beside her. Then, Maeve's legs buckled at the knees and her weight keeled back into the wall beside her. She kept standing, but her hands clenched; open and shut, open and shut, over and over in no specific timing. A cold sheen of sweat appeared on her forehead.

Her gaze, with pupils wide and wild, was fixed on the exact position where one Layne Towerfall was seated.

@Oooie
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