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Viewing Single Post From: The Weekly Grind
Cicada Days
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keep running yoshi
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Screw that. Irene continued to crank her knuckles against the sore flat of her ilium, mewling grumpily to herself as she shot Sandra the most exaggerated and theatrical of stink eyes, eyebrows virtually vanishing into her blonde locks.

"This ass needs all five, bitch! Too fat for you!" Whether or not that had been the greatest comeback ever uttered by a sentient being since the dawn of time Irene didn't care. She was in pain, dammit, she would grouse as she felt necessary. But it wasn't even fifteen seconds later that she felt a restless wave of energy snap her leg muscles to attention. Sandra was doing the whole 'you're so 2000 and late' thing again. For fucks sake, she had to pull out a powerslide. If there was any embarrassingly basic trick Irene didn't really have the finesse to pull without gaining mad and completely unintentional air it was that one. "Ripping on me, huh? This isn't over, Dyer!" She was still nursing a tenderized spine but to hell with it, she'd herniate every single disc if she had to.

With a swish and a flick her board Wingardium Leviosaed, a basic kickflip she carried right into one of Sandra's benches. There was a moment of danger where her skewed feet almost faltered before they finally remembered to stop being asleep and snap back into position so she could actually land on her board. Her board snapped onto the bench, then she rolled backwards and neatly hopped onto pavement, scooping her board up before it was similarly earthbound. Not anything to write home from a quiet Western Front about, but it would do.

She seemed to still be sore, judging by the hand already creeping around her lovehandles.

V6 - Like you imagined when you... were young...
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