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Hollyquin
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A friendly clown welcomes you to LOCAH. It seems he would like to be your guide.
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Well. Things seemed to be going well. Relatively, at least, given that on Survival of the Fittest going well generally meant not a shriveled corpse bleeding out on a cliff somewhere. No, Vivien Morin was whole and beautiful as he ever was, and now he had quite a bit of company to keep.

This other girl, Janet Claymont. He frowned. Hadn't she killed someone? Hadn't he heard something about that on the announcements? He tried to think back- no no no, he'd been thinking of Janet Binachi, she had killed someone, and Janet Victoriee-Ser was dead. Not a good time to be named Janet, hm? He hadn't, didn't, know any of them well.

This Janet was a cheerleader, he knew that much. She didn't have a reputation for being particularly...nice, and she clearly had no sense in clothing (and was in desperate need of some hair dye). But clearly this girl trusted them enough to call out to them. At the very least she would make a good patsy, if she stuck around. Obviously anyone idiotic enough to yell to a couple of strangers on Survival of the Fittest isn't intelligent enough to lead...or to be alone. Or maybe her and Sonia know each other...?

"Oh, it's you. Sorry, I was expecting someone else."

Well, that didn't sound like the words of a girl reunited with a friend. Who on earth was Sonia expecting at a time like this? This was Survival of the Fittest, not a Starbucks. You don't invite your friends somewhere, meet up, have a coffee (Vivien could go for a latte macchiato right about now, actually). Unless maybe Sonia had split up with some friends earlier, made plans to meet them? But no, Sonia had been looking for someone, so that seemed unlikely.

Curiouser and curiouser.

"Do either of you have any plans from here on, by any chan--"

Vivien had a few answers ready- find his girls, find someplace relatively comfortable to stay for a while, change into an outfit that didn't look ridiculous sans his gorgeous red pumps which he just now was remembering to be angry at Sonia over the loss of- when Sonia stopped dead and so did he.

There was someone there. Someone with a shotgun.

A whimper escaped Vivien's throat involuntarily. It wasn't even a cute boy, he would have a bit to be happy for with that, at least. But alas, no, it was John Smith. Fatty John, Vivien thought with an internal chuckle, remembering the name he'd heard around school. The boy wasn't even that big. But he was holding a shotgun, and he was definitely looking at them. And he could definitely kill them all right now, if he was the kind of boy who'd do that kind of thing.

Vivien really wasn't sure.

But he hadn't shot them yet. That was encouraging. Vivien recovered his composure, and his manners, and gave the other boy a formal, pageantry sort of wave. He didn't particularly want this boy to join them, but he'd rather that than becoming a fresh bloodstain on the cliff.
being meguca is suffering

[V5] ALIVE:
[x] Aidan Flynn [B???] // Passing slowly though the vector, damp with fog, the bog that grows the former business sector...
[x] Chitose Saionji [G???] // 公園に千歳は本を読む!

[V5] CONCEPTS:
Winston Evans aced the last English test and would like to point out how gorgeous your shoes are.

Those Who've Known - V4
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Fabuleux · Northern Cliffs