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Post by Iole on Oct 31, 2008 21:33:33 GMT -5
::Iole grins from where she's sitting::
Why Ollie, I do believe you're jealous.
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Post by Oliver on Oct 31, 2008 21:37:10 GMT -5
Oliver scowls. "Not jea'ous! Jus say'in I could of taken t'em! Not a 'ittle baby, or not'in!"
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Post by Iole on Oct 31, 2008 21:44:24 GMT -5
::Iole ruffles the fur on the top of his head::
Nobody said anything like that. Far as I'm concerned, after you pulled us out of that fire, you're one of us now. I'm just kind of excited now that I'm not the baby of the group now. I've finally got some seniority.
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Post by Oliver on Oct 31, 2008 21:56:31 GMT -5
Oliver begins to bolster with a hint of pride after Iole's reassurance. "Ya, thas was nut'in, it was. Done it bef'or." He flicks his hand, the sharp claws of his fingers extending. "On'y boy in'al of Lindblum to 'ave a set of these. Mum said mus be from me dad, she didnt have tem not near'y as sharp, not any other burmecian either! Ta gang use me to cut ta windows an'such and fire don't bother me none ei'her! Run me hand righ' over a flame, bare'y a hair burned!" He looks at his furred hand for a moment. "Kina weird, it is."
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Post by Iole on Oct 31, 2008 21:59:32 GMT -5
::Iole smiles::
I remember. Your dad did have a set like those. I don't remember a whole lot about him. Except for this one time when I turned into a dog to play with him. We raced. He beat me, but not by much.
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Post by Oliver on Oct 31, 2008 22:03:54 GMT -5
Oliver gives Iole a very strange, weird, and slightly creepied out look. "Uh... wha? Ya... knew me dad? An... ya raced him... 'ike... a dog?" He seems to be frozen in time, his hand still raised in the air, like a statue, with his expression fixed into that odd contorted look of confusion and slight 'creeped-outness'
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Post by Iole on Oct 31, 2008 22:09:07 GMT -5
::Iole frowns::
Yeah I knew him. Didn't Lillith tell you? I didn't see a whole lot of him though. I think my Auntie scared him. She scared a lot of people.
::She seems a little offended at the way he talks about her powers::
Nothing weird about turning into a dog. I change into animals all the time.
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Post by Oliver on Oct 31, 2008 22:11:17 GMT -5
Oliver shakes his head, shakes out of it actually.
"Uh... she didn't mention that ya kne him, less I don think she did..." Oliver thinks for a moment. "An, it aint you I'm wier'ed out by... is me dad! Wha was he!?"
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Post by Renilius Blacklips on Oct 31, 2008 22:12:46 GMT -5
"Well, you kids seem to know things better than other kids, but you're still kids you still have to know things better." Ren said. He was being wise for Iole and Oliver. "I mean, I'm still a teenager; I still have things to know, you know." Ren said and after that he laughed.
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Post by Iole on Oct 31, 2008 22:19:48 GMT -5
::Iole rolls her eyes at Ren::
And here I thought you knew everything. What do you mean you don't know what your dad was? He was a Burmecian just like you of course... I think. Most of The Order was now that I think about it. Well I'm pretty sure Louis was human. And to this day I'm still not sure what the Shepherd was, but Yersinia was definitely Burmecian. Laughing Boy... Well... He was a freakazoid of a Burmecian. Kind of like a Frankenstein type thing.
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Post by Renilius Blacklips on Oct 31, 2008 22:23:05 GMT -5
"Do the two of you have a thing?" Ren asked doubtfully. "I mean in between?"
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Post by Oliver on Oct 31, 2008 22:29:00 GMT -5
Oliver listens, through still an air of confusion about him. "Bu... no burmecian aint 'ike me none! I kne me dad was sumtin different but..." Oliver shakes his head and rubs his eyes. "Ah... wha'eva, don matter no more." Oliver gets up and steps back. "I need to ges to ta doc, he don 'ike outsiders much though." Looks at Ren and then Iole. "Be bac in'a few..."
With those last parting words Oliver walks to the edge of the roof and jumps down, using a rain gutter to slide down to the street below.
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Post by Iole on Oct 31, 2008 22:30:37 GMT -5
::Iole makes a guilty frown::
Guess he needs some time. I need to remember to keep my mouth shut.
::Looks back to Ren::
What? A thing? With Ollie? No way. He's a little young for me don't you think?
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Post by Renilius Blacklips on Oct 31, 2008 22:32:17 GMT -5
"Hahahaha!" Ren laughed. "You know there's a secret behind the clip."
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Post by Iole on Oct 31, 2008 22:34:21 GMT -5
::The girl fingers the present she received earlier from Ren::
Eh? What kind of secret?
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Post by Renilius Blacklips on Oct 31, 2008 22:41:19 GMT -5
"It stores your special memories." Ren said. "It does it on its own. You can't stop it. It stored the moment a while ago. It shows you on your mind."
"Just the one moment a while ago; the clip stored it the only way to remove it is to keep it out of your touch."
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Post by Iole on Oct 31, 2008 22:44:12 GMT -5
::Iole tries to pull it out, finding that he's right. It's not coming loose::
This is going to make showering very awkward. So it stores my memories. What's so bad about that?
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Post by Renilius Blacklips on Oct 31, 2008 22:49:58 GMT -5
"As I said it only stores the special ones," Ren said. "You're the only one one who could reread it again. In Nibelheim, it is used on people with memory loss. There's nothing really bad about it."
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Post by Renilius Blacklips on Oct 31, 2008 22:56:07 GMT -5
"So if you want to remove it you'd better ask someone else, but the consequence is losing your most special memories." He smiled. "Better keep it. It won't do you harm."
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Post by Oliver on Oct 31, 2008 22:57:43 GMT -5
-Meanwhile-
On the street, Oliver runs across the street towards the alley he had pointed out earlier, stopping only for a moment to look back to the roof where Iole and Ren are. "'Onder wha they are tal'in about."
Shaking off the paranoia, Oliver turns down the alley. Its a dank alley, dripping with sludge and sewage. At the end of the alley is a single gas lamp over a rusty iron door, unmarked and forbodding, yet Oliver approaches it and knocks, three times, slowly. The door clicks and opens and Oliver walks inside.
Inside is illuminated by the golden flames of a number of candles and a few gas lights. "Doc! Is Oliver! Gos sume stuffs for ya!"
Oliver walks into another room, littered with anatomy books, medical reference material, and other objects that Oliver can't even identify. Huddled at a table is a man, with a stained coat and simple academic clothes. He's working on some papers, drawing anatomy.
"Yes, Oliver, come in."
The man swivels around in his chair to face Oliver. He's a man in his late thirties early forties, slightly unshaven, with a thin face.
"What have you brought today?"
Oliver begins to remove items from his coat, placing them one by one on the counter beside the doctor.
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