D Drago Dragonite wrote:"Zlecat this ain't a prank. It's getting warmer already", shouted Rangon from the distance. Wait, how did he see Zlecat wasn't following? Rangon just... Predicted it, he didn't know how.
((Yes... She brought up the... unspeakble metal object... Why did I ever tell everything...
My sister actually got the quadrants pretty well. She actually said ‘Pfft, that sounds like a gigantic soap opera’. And when you think twice... It actually does. ))
((OOC: DOUBLE NO. NOT THE- o_o There's reasons why I try to avoid those on SkaiaCraft.
My friend tried to join this RP but he was a bit confused over our Skype conversation and where the strife specibus is his form.
I'm rereading Hivebent and just got past [S] Make her pay.
A better soap opera, so I'll say. One where stuff seems to make sense.))
Zlecat could feel it getting a bit warmer, but by now she had her whip in her hand.
She knew this guy didn't want to just let them abscond. Not JUST abscond.
Neo had paused a bit to catch what Zlecat was doing, then ran off back to Rangon, not wasting any time with her swift mouse-like reactions.
She had taken out her Ancestor's journal- in which was still covered in old, bright red blood stains- and flipped to a page she had bookmarked.
"RaNgOn," she squeaked, looking up at the blackblood. "7hE hA7 To Do It. My AnCe7tOr WrOtE iT hErE."
She pointed to one of the lines.