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“Well, gee, you’re just no fun at all.” I lean on the door frame and cross my arms across my chest.
My stance will be ignored, but, hey, can’t blame a girl for trying to crawl back to bed and fall into blissful, alcohol induced sleep. We’ve got a shiner.” I raise my eyebrow-an expert achievement of snark that never fails to drive Sarge crazy.
I fake a cough as I adjust the bag on my shoulder and resist making any sort of comment.
Heartnell’s sensitive about magic victims, and however we are to each other, I know where the line is.
I can still taste electric anise when I open my eyes.
I wish they had deeper pockets though, not even basic charms can expand clothes by much. I was sleeping,” I lie to the pudgy pink face at the door.
But then again, I’ve never been the bookish type so I don’t exactly know how it works.
You never know with these bags, especially when you pick one off a stiffer. A scent of lilacs seeps through the windows of the car, overpowering the stench of old tobacco and stale sweat.
Like this, all I have room for are half a dozen ready-made magics–fainter, healquick, motion, flask–the necessities. “Like I’m gonna believe that.” His bulbous nose creeps up when he snorts. “You know, there are special scissors, they’re real tiny so you can get ’em up the nostril and just – ” I make a snipping move with my fingers.
The window slams shut behind me as I open the door. The boy should have known better than to follow a strange woman home. “You’ll get a discount as soon as they look at you.” I also give him a grin, for good measure.
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Maintaining the concealer is a pain in the ass, but I can afford a few days of mild coma to keep it up for three years.