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a dr36m come true and a star to wish upon; (open)
Topic Started: Feb 5 2017, 05:55 PM (615 Views)
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[[Lucilly Peterson, continued from I'm Just a Soul Whose Intentions Are Good]]

What has occurred, and more importantly - what has not occurred. Two questions closely related, swirling closely intertwined in her head. She could not answer, however. At some point in time, she had met Emma. At some point of time, she had met Amanda. At some point of time, she had met Jamie. At some point of time, she had lost them.

At some point of time, she had lost her way.

At what points of time, she was not sure. All the pieces of her memory, they could the scraps torn from a single page. Perhaps they could be the telling of a day. Perhaps a year has gone by. Perhaps the world burnt in fire and Lucilly was born anew.

For the moment, she considered the last possibility unlikely.

Either way, at some other point of time, a point which was more present than any others, Lucilly had heard voices. A voice, a singular voice coming from just one person. She had heard them and in a bout of curiosity or the cravings for something else, she had tried to seek them out. Lucilly had found the source of it, she believed.

Dorothy.

She stepped into the white room. It was beautiful. Dorothy was beautiful. She was so happy. So was Lucilly, now that she could see it as well.

"Fear not, it is merely me."
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'Fear not' says local girl and gets zapped.

Lucilly could have truly said that she was utterly and completely shocked. Even more so, she was surprised by the sudden tension engulfing the room. She could only utter one word - "What!" - before she screamed. Then Dorothy screamed again.

And then Lucilly screamed again.

Then they both screamed.
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Lucilly kept screaming.

She kept screaming straight into Dorothy's face as the girl tried to apologize and calm her down.

She kept screaming for a while longer, but already got more silent. And more, and more, until she stopped.

Then she slumped, and collapsed on the floor.

Lucilly gave Dorothy a thumbs up, her own face planted firmly into the ground.

"Please do not do this thing again, if it would not bother you too much."
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It had been more shock - quite literally - than damage that caused Lucilly's brief moment of pain. At the very least, she concluded as such.

Her head was removed from the floor, that is, Lucilly lifted it up. She had a few troubles indeed to lift the rest of her body, but with a few sighs and aches and a very concerned-looking Dorothy looking on, she managed to stand on her two feet again.

She rested her hand on the spot on her chest where Dorothy struck. The physical sensation caused her a slight bit of discomfort, but it was nothing to invade hell for.

"I am good, thank you very much."

As tazing people, however, was one of the lesser known icebreakers - and rightly so, for most conversation dropped dead when electric currents were involved - Lucilly found herself speechless. The art of small talk had been inappropriate to use where they were, but for the lack of better options, Lucilly engaged.

"I hope you are just as fine."
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Oh, dearest - Lucilly could only agree to Dorothy's statement for her own week was as miserable as a week could get. She had not taken a shower in a long time, and although she could not smell the stench of her own person she was inherently aware of it - and thanked Dorothy's tact in not acknowledging it - and that was just terrible.

"My favorite color is... well to be frank I have not thought a lot about this lately."

Lucilly thought about it. In that moment, though she did not ponder for long and simply blurted out the first shade in her mind which she found pleasing to it.

"However, I think it would be Vermilion. I just find it... good."

"Pink is a very good color as well, though!"
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Dorothy called vermilion red. It was not that much of an untruth, though had Lucilly been content with considering the color of vermilion a red, she would have simply said red. Regardless, Dorothy has shown another facet of hers with a masterful segue into a new topic.

It was small talk, pleasantries exchanged between two young ladies, and yet her question halted whatever Lucilly was thinking at the moment. She was not sure.

"I am uncertain."

Looking at Dorothy, the way she was and the way Lucilly was, Lucilly remembered that she remembered nothing. Nothing about what she had planned, at least, or if she ostensibly had planned anything at all.

"Do you have plans?"
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Lucilly was of sound mind, after all, and even she knew that the vocabulary she used was strangely different from what her peers used. It was what it was, and that was fine. She had little consideration for how other people spoke, though even she had to admit in silence that some of the things said by her classmates were extraordinarily wrong and rude. Regardless of that fact, she was aware of how people spoke and she was aware of the fact that sometimes people used words that did not make sense to Lucilly. Words that appeared harsh and grotesque, but were euphemisms - or perhaps whatever the opposite of an euphemism was - were actually masking a more harmless action.

So when Dorothy said she wanted to kill Isabel, Lucilly knew from the bottom of her heart that it was actually not a literal intent to murder Dorothy expressed. More something along the lines of a mean-spirited prank or something similar. A reaction, as far as Lucilly gathered, to Isabel 'killing' Asha somewhere in the past.

Lucilly was not a friend of revenge, and she was even less of a friend to the words Dorothy used.

"True, Isabel can be difficult, but to curse her like this is a bit inappropriate."

Lucilly flashed a cute little smile and shrugged her shoulders. She was no friend of revenge, but she was a friend to helping and it would cost nothing to ask for details.

"So, what is it that you are planning to do to her?"
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Lucilly was feeling out of the loop. Something was going on. Something that escaped Lucilly's scope of awareness. That was plenty annoying, for certain, but mostly is was terribly confusing.

Whatever happened, it made feel Dorothy very emotional. It was an earned display of emotions, one that woke a deep-seated instinct in Lucilly to comfort and help the girl.

Unfortunately, Lucilly had not the slightest clue about what Dorothy was talking about.

She nodded along, smiled along, and offered a 'Yes' here and there to show she listened. Yet all Lucilly could hear was incoherent rambling. She might have just misunderstood. Perhaps it was Dorothy, who in her emotive status has lost the ability to speak properly. That wasn't bad at all, of course! It was, in fact, very understandable. If people got upset they sometimes can talk less properly. It is just what it was.

However, if Lucilly did not grasp what Dorothy wanted, she could not truly help her.

"It's okay, I can understand. These things are tough on us, but I promise you I'll do my best to help you!"
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Did Lucilly understand?

No, without doubt she did not.

Did Lucilly like what Dorothy said nonetheless?

Yes, yes she did indeed. Lucilly had resolved to help, and Dorothy had decided to accept her help. It made her happy. To see Dorothy be filled with euphoria and great joy filled Lucilly with the same. A joy that without doubt could mask the soreness of her wrist.

Soon, Lucilly too was jumping and clapping.

"Now 👏 I 👏 know 👏 this 👏 seems 👏 weird 👏 but 👏 I 👏 have 👏 a 👏 ques- 👏 tion 👏

Do 👏 you 👏 like 👏 por- 👏 nos?"
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"Oh you must see - something most amusing has occured."

Lucilly stopped clapping - obviously of course - and jumping. Instead, she unfastened the bag on her back and slid it to the ground. She had no problems rummaging around for too long to find it. Lucilly made sure not to look at it directly, though, she still was determined to touch it. She should, for fairness' sake, show it.

"This magazine is not catering to my tastes, but it would be improper if I just threw it away. I supposed someone else might like it."
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"Why, excellent. In that case I must not burden myself any longer with it!"

Lucilly was in a genuine mood. Lucilly always was in a genuine mood, but the genuineness of this one mood, even if not particularly different, was still worthy to be pointed out.

Now, that this topic was sorted, Lucilly had to answer the call of serious matters.

"Now, as to our plan - do you have specifics in mind? As in, what you think we should do right now and here?"
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By that point, Lucilly had assumed a squatting position on the floor near by Dorothy. In fact, it had been the second instance of that position. The first time she did so, she also repacked her bag on her shoulders. However, something shifted in it, or maybe Lucilly was just too clumsy for that, but when she squatted with the bag on her shoulders she fell backwards.

So either way, she nodded. She had followed Dorothy's little roleplay and tried to put herself into Dorothy putting herself into Isabel's shadow. Why her shadow in particular escaped Lucilly, as many things did.

Was there a specific point to the shadow? All people really had one, didn't they? Some even had two, or four, or five and three quarter. Once in a documentary narrated by a Briton with a pleasing deep voice, Lucilly meant to hear that in the poorer corners of the Mississippi Delta, there were people who couldn't afford one shadow.

But she doubted her memory on that point.

Regardless, Lucilly tried to imitate Dorothy.

"Hm... uh... Oh! I get it, you mean someone else was Isabel's 'shadow'? So you mean someone else 'helped' Isabel in her tasks? Is that not then called a 'ghost'?"
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