Kris nods. Green's answer made all of the sense in the world. Smiling a little she thinks there may be hope yet.
"Thank you, Green. I hope that I can be such great help to you, someday," she says, feeling slightly childish and in need of guidance.
Chicken Little Strikes Again
Moderator: Student Council
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Kris O'Sullivan
- Posts: 1067
- Joined: Tue Feb 14, 2006 8:55 pm
- Location: Paragon City, Rhode Island
- Contact:
-Pluto giggles almost like a little catholic school girl. and smiles rolling on her back at what Kirs said. "...ah mine dear flattary v'ill get you everyware."
She lifted from the grass like it was so natrual. hovering over kris and placed a finer on her forhead "Defneder fights with this".
Then takes her hand and lifts it into her warm pail hand. "Defender not fight with this" wiggles her arm playfully and squeeses her bycepts, she giggles and lets go befor backing off and lifting her mask up with her pail hand, with her index finger pushes her green shades up her nose.
"Stay cool cowgirl" With a stareo typical amarican voice she says morphing her fingers to look like a couple guns "Pew" "Pew" sounds fallowed as she spun from her backwards "cool" gun fighter pose holstering her guns and slily made her way off the grass and to the library.
She lifted from the grass like it was so natrual. hovering over kris and placed a finer on her forhead "Defneder fights with this".
Then takes her hand and lifts it into her warm pail hand. "Defender not fight with this" wiggles her arm playfully and squeeses her bycepts, she giggles and lets go befor backing off and lifting her mask up with her pail hand, with her index finger pushes her green shades up her nose.
"Stay cool cowgirl" With a stareo typical amarican voice she says morphing her fingers to look like a couple guns "Pew" "Pew" sounds fallowed as she spun from her backwards "cool" gun fighter pose holstering her guns and slily made her way off the grass and to the library.
The answer is and always will be.......42-
Kris O'Sullivan
- Posts: 1067
- Joined: Tue Feb 14, 2006 8:55 pm
- Location: Paragon City, Rhode Island
- Contact:
A Few Days Later...
Kris waited just inside the cafeteria door. She had just checked out the comprehensive Cyclopedia Of The Words Of Science, by Isaac Assimov, written during his tenure at NASA. It was a fifteen pound book, and was very unwieldy. But, in this instance, it was just perfect.
According to plan.
Looking to the picture window, she saw her. Palilla was alone, just like the last time. As she aproached, Kris breathed in slow, and the world slowed down.
Vindication.
The girl approached the three steps away from the door mark. Kris locked eyes with Lucky from across the cafeteria, and felt a small pang of guilt, just before locking eyes with one of her study partners named Sheila. She needed a hero. A hero like Stasis had been for her.
Freedom.
Lifting the book, she swung it like she was Hank Aaron, and her mind cleared, coalescing around the pent up rage and inferiority she had bottled up inside. Pally hardly expected the sudden wall of fifteen pounds, flying at a velocity of roughly 20 miles per hour, to crash into her face. She expected even less the Psionic Lance that accompanied it, giving her a jarring headache.
Make a wish.
Backwards, she flew for two feet, a small spray of blood flying from her nose. Hitting the ground, there was an obvious dazed and confused look on the hispanic thug's face. Kris stepped around the door, irridescent pink energies seeping from hereyes like some sort of sinister radiation leak. putting her foot forward, she shoved Pally back to the floor.
"I said no, and I mean it," Kris spat with a venom that equalled that of her aunt Nieves Trudeaux. "If you get up, I swear you won't leave the sisters' care for months."
Turning back to watch the reflections in the window, Kris entered the Cafeteria, and sat in front of Lucky. She felt the guilt come back, but she felt the lack of a burden on her souls and shoulders.
Kris waited just inside the cafeteria door. She had just checked out the comprehensive Cyclopedia Of The Words Of Science, by Isaac Assimov, written during his tenure at NASA. It was a fifteen pound book, and was very unwieldy. But, in this instance, it was just perfect.
According to plan.
Looking to the picture window, she saw her. Palilla was alone, just like the last time. As she aproached, Kris breathed in slow, and the world slowed down.
Vindication.
The girl approached the three steps away from the door mark. Kris locked eyes with Lucky from across the cafeteria, and felt a small pang of guilt, just before locking eyes with one of her study partners named Sheila. She needed a hero. A hero like Stasis had been for her.
Freedom.
Lifting the book, she swung it like she was Hank Aaron, and her mind cleared, coalescing around the pent up rage and inferiority she had bottled up inside. Pally hardly expected the sudden wall of fifteen pounds, flying at a velocity of roughly 20 miles per hour, to crash into her face. She expected even less the Psionic Lance that accompanied it, giving her a jarring headache.
Make a wish.
Backwards, she flew for two feet, a small spray of blood flying from her nose. Hitting the ground, there was an obvious dazed and confused look on the hispanic thug's face. Kris stepped around the door, irridescent pink energies seeping from hereyes like some sort of sinister radiation leak. putting her foot forward, she shoved Pally back to the floor.
"I said no, and I mean it," Kris spat with a venom that equalled that of her aunt Nieves Trudeaux. "If you get up, I swear you won't leave the sisters' care for months."
Turning back to watch the reflections in the window, Kris entered the Cafeteria, and sat in front of Lucky. She felt the guilt come back, but she felt the lack of a burden on her souls and shoulders.
"In blessed memory of Sister Mercy (Sister Mary Catherine St. Claire {Dec 12, 1923 - unknown date})
Her memory lives on with St Joseph School as a testament to the good that can be done by healers at the scene of conflict."
Her memory lives on with St Joseph School as a testament to the good that can be done by healers at the scene of conflict."
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palilla
Paula watched the red haired girl walk away, and then touched the wetness on her face. Blood. Huh... Rojita actually stood up and delivered! A smile crossed Paula's face, and she got up, and dusted herself off. A close by girl snickered, and the hispanic looked over to see it was a girl with a letterman jacket, and a class ring that washer size.
"That girl's alright in my book," she nodded, then went in to grab an apple and banana.
"That girl's alright in my book," she nodded, then went in to grab an apple and banana.