[center]__________________________________________ Let Them Eat Ice Cream! __________________________________________[/center] “Dickwad! That almost took off a precious digit.” “Stop being a stubborn old man. Ask the girl to fix it.” “No fucking way! The bitch did this in the first place.” Seira waved off her ice cream and turned her attention to the swearing black man sitting cross legged right in the center of the hallway. Parts of his gun was scattered all around him. She chuckled as she noticed he was trying to force different pieces together. His temper was clearly clouding his rational mind. She waltzed over with a cheery smile and placed her hands on his shoulders. She leaned over till her shadow blocked the light. He looked up, glared for a second or so, pushed her hands off his shoulders, and finally shoved the rest of the pieces under him. The sound of metal scrapping against the floor set her teeth on edge. Judging by the crunching and scrapping the man wasn't comfortable at all. He was definitely shifting around trying to find a way to sit without being poked. What an idiot! “Oh no you don’t! You did enough damage for one day,” he snarled. “It was self-defense,” she replied with a small pout. “Having my brains splattered all over the place is not the best way to go. I want to die looking pretty.” The woman edged closer to him only to have him pull away. She closed the gap again and he retreated even further. They continued their little game till finally he had his back against the wall. She could smell sweat, some fading cologne, the scent of blood and a horrid breath. Possibly from eating garlic bread or some pasta dish. Still she leaned over and kissed his jaw bone teasingly. She pulled her lips off and kissed the same spot again before leaving a trail of kisses. Finally she placed a huge kiss on his cheek. She grabbed one of his cornrows and twirled it round and round her slender white finger. The poor fool was so shocked that he wasn't even pushing her away. She smiled sweetly as she twirling the course strand of hair. Behind her back she had her hand outstretched and her fingers wiggling. She felt one of the pieces land on her palm. With a soft click the reassembled gun landed in the palm of her hand. She had sneaked in one or two alterations, which she hoped won't be discovered till later. “That wasn’t so hard now… was it?” "God damn it!" The vixen allowed the man to push pass her, and she continued remaining where she was as she watched the other team disappeared round the corner. She even waved and smiled as the female Asylum glared at her. Truthfully she didn't care what the two thought of her. All that mattered was that she managed to fix the gun. Watching that male Asylum struggle with it was really frustrating. Why can't people be smarter? Surely he must have realized that she was waiting for him to approach her. Camron looked away as Seira walked back towards him. The whole scene weirded him out. Was that supposed to be romantic, twisted or simply insane? His partner just kissed a guy so that she could fix his gun. Realizing that he would look suspicious sucking his spoon as he held onto an empty bowl, Camron waved to the waiter and pointed to his empty bowl. The boy accepted his new bowl gratefully. His partner snorted derisively and commented about his unhealthy appetite. The teen ignored her. He dug up a huge spoonful and shoved it into his mouth. A sharp pain caused him to drop his spoon. He clutched his head slightly as the waiter rushed back. "Sir, are you alright?" "He didn't have an aneurysm." Seira commented dryly. "A what...?" "A stroke." "Erm... shall I get the doctor?" The boy chuckled weakly as the pain subsided. He grabbed the waiter's hand before the man could rush off to actually fetch a doctor. "Have you ever had brain freeze before?" [center]__________________________________________ A college kid, a music loving introvert and a cool customer need to work together __________________________________________[/center] Seira groaned softly as she landed on her back. [i]Who was the idiot who triggered the trap?[/i] Her mind had scarcely begun considering the appropriate scapegoat when she heard a snapping sound. Quickly she flung her right hand violently to loosen the expanding metal rings. Nagi and Nami flew off as they grew to their original size. Nagi landed less than 10 meters away while Nami had rolled off into the shadows beyond her current field of vision. She let out a strangled sigh as she pulled herself up into a seiza position. A moment sooner and her chakrams would have severed all her fingers. The medical student stretched to ease the tension as the grim implications sank in. She was stuck in an alchemic void, and her only useable weapon was her gun. The chakrams were hard to use without any form of alchemy due to their size. She clicked her tongue impatiently. Her current companions were … [i]coping.[/i] They weren’t her first choice, but she wasn't going to be picky in this current situation. The woman noticed her male companion was bleeding, and she hurried to his side. Seira held onto Aden’s left arm. She tightened her grip a little. She didn’t want him to start lashing out. Asylums hated it when people grab them suddenly, and they retaliated violently. Many a medic were injured by their patients because they never took the necessary precaution. She braced herself. She prayed he wasn't violent. “Are you feeling giddy?” She asked calmly. “Please answer truthfully. We definitely need to get you patched up, but I want to know what I am working with.” The rookie looked in Fiona’s direction hoping to make eye contact. Somehow the other woman appeared to be lost in her own world. The medic in training turned her attention back to her patient. She guided him towards a pile of rocks, which were just the right height for him to sit down comfortably, and just low enough for him not to injure himself if he started fainting. She turned to the other Asian once more, and tapped her ear, hoping the woman would remove those earphones. She wasn't happy with her current situation. All she could do was stem the bleeding. A lighter would have been good, but chances of anyone actually carrying one around was rather slim. [center]__________________________________________ A blabber mouth, a potty mouthed gentleman and a sarcastic queen still don't see eye to eye __________________________________________[/center] Camron sat up. The kid immediately opened the satchel slung across his shoulders, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Most of the items he packed were still in there. Time for some skittles! The boy opened the bag and popped a handful of the colorful palettes into his mouth. The teen moved the candy to the side of his mouth and chomped on them nervously as he studied his surroundings. He believed he was still alive because the soft bedding beneath him cushioned his fall. He dreaded looking down, but he was still curious to know what it was. The blonde youth reached down. First he felt something smooth and cool almost like leather. His fingers wandered a little further. They brushed against a couple of rough strands. He frowned as he held one of the strands between two fingers. Was it a sofa covering of sorts? Or was it a coil of rope? The boy pulled till the strand broke loose. “You bastard! I am [i]so[/i] going to KILL YOU!” A huge shove sent the poor kid sprawling onto the floor. Half the skittles spilled all over the concrete surface and rolled away. He blinked as he found himself staring into the eyes of a very mad, black man. Secretly Camron wondered how intimidating it must be to look a panther in the eyes before being mauled. Rich's skin was certainly as black as a panther's hide, and the man looked just as menacing. On the other hand the slight grimace frozen on Rich's face made Camron consider the possibility that the poor man was constipated. The boy wrinkled his nose. Having bowel problems was never fun. Camron chuckled weakly as he held out the remaining skittles in the half empty packet. Candy should brighten up the nigger’s day. That is if niggers other than Eddy Murphy and Will Smith could ever happy. “Want some? Sweets always help people feel better.” “Hon, if you can just frickin help me up instead of stepping on my dress I would be much happier,” exclaimed a very pissed off woman. “Sorry Sel!” the black man said sheepishly. “Tsk. I never thought I ever hate having you lie on top of me, but when it isn't sex, you are nothing but a dead weight. You, sir, are getting tubbier by the day.” “Well excuse me! Who was the one who keeps saying she must watch her weight and waste perfectly good food.” “Shut! Up!” There was more rustling and swearing as the black man helped his partner up. The confused teen watched silently as the two argued about their current predicament. Seriously he wondered why they seemed so uptight. It wasn’t as if zombies were going to start charging in. The boy held onto the last thought. Many impossible things had already happened within the last 48 hours - cement cocoons, exploding cars, walls of fire, alien pods and ice cream served on a silver platter. Having to fight a couple of supernatural or undead creatures was still a possibility. Satisfied with hiw own conclusion, the teen decided to proceed to the next logical step, which was reassuring his team mates and doing an inventory check. The more ammo they had the better their chances of survival. They may even meet up with Seira later. “If it helps you feel any better, I have a tube peppermint filled Cadbury chocolate, a packet of lays sour cream and onion potato chips, some funky coffee candy called Kopiko, three bags jelly beans and two flash bangs.” He smiled a little more brightly as the couple stared at him incredulously. “Isn't an inventory check the most important first step? We always do that while playing post apocalypse games like L4D and L4D2 … How experienced are you guys when it comes to fighting zombies? I mean you already have a pistol so you must be able shoot stuff at close range at least… and she has something I think.” “Kid, you need a psychiatrist,” the black man muttered under his breath.