[Eunwon]

"Drake, I insist you come out and party for a little bit. I mean seriously, all you've been doing the whole night is been sitting here. Where is your life?" Juanita couldn't help it. All night, for three hours, Drake, the nightclub's manager, had been sitting on the stool. Doing nothing. To her, that was unthinkable. Juanita's wild, flirty, and exotic, personality didn't fit at all with Drake's shady and dark nature. Yet somehow, the two were close, in a weird way. Like, one wouldn't go without the other. She took another swig of pina colada, and looked him in the eyes. "Come on, please. Just once." The Jamaican woman was getting more and more flustered. What was up with him? Ever since she could remember, guys had a 'thing' for her. Juanita could get them to do whatever she wanted with a couple blinks of her full, lengthy, gold, mascara and a flirty body swing. Why didn't Drake fall for it to? Oh, right. Because he was Drake. "Listen, Juanita Maria Shalamar. How many times do I have to tell you? I don't like it. You know I've never liked anything close to what you enjoy. And I'm not just sitting here. I'm observing." Drake talked in that quiet, creepy-ish, voice of his. It should've scared anyone. Anyone but Juanita. The woman snorted, or attempted to. "Fine. You go and observe or what ever people with no life do. I need a cocktail." With that, Juanita walked away, her extremely short minidress swinging. Drake rolled his eyes - or should we say, eye - but the man couldn't help but give a smile. He loved Juanita, in the non-romantic way. Like as a friend, but something more important than that. Maybe a sibling would fit more. He watched the Jamaican woman chug the cocktail, ask for seconds, and they go and dance like crazy. Anybody would admire her, and he could see why all those men where so crazy about her. She was exotic - not to many people are half Jamaican and half French. And her heritage gave her that impossible-to-ignore accent and the beautiful dark skin. Drake couldn't help but observe some more. Today, she was wearing that gold minidress, in this case, 'extra-mini' would have fit better. The dress was as low as a large t-shirt. So inappropriate. So Juanita. She also had large gold hoop earings with a big hawaiian flower pinned to the side of her hair. Her wild, curly, brown hair was bouncing around everywhere. That was weird, she normally wore it up. Right now, she was dancing with three guys, all who seemed drunk, which didn't seem to bother Juanita in the least. She had her cocktail in hand, and her brown-green eyes were eyeing the men up and down. Drake could tell she was getting a little drunk herself. He ran his hand through his ponytail, and stopped watching Juanita. If he watched her anymore people might notice his staring, and, anyways, nobody wanted to watch her drunk with men - it was rated R. Drake hosted himself up off his stool, he should probably get to work. "Hey, Drake! Yeah, Drake Hargate! Juanita wants you to know that the 'r' of Stripe light went out." The man walked away, without any sort of greeting or such. Drake shrugged, typical for people to be wary around him. He should probably get to work on that, or force someone to. As manager of this nightclub, The Red Stripe Chicken, he should be used to these things. It's just that Juanita never did anything, after all, she was the owner. He sighed, he couldn't expect much from her. She partied and got loads of customers to come to her Jamaican nightclub, and was pretty rich with this, too. And Drake, well, Drake got plenty of money taking care of anything Juanita didn't care to do. Or in other words - everything. Drake took slow steps towards the door, his one pale-grey eye cautious for any crazy dancers. He made sure to stay as un-noticeable as possible, it didn't work out to well though. A rather large woman crashed into him, spilling her drink (cocktail, maybe?) all over him. "Great." Drake muttered with a few swear words mixed in. He glared at the lady, and while she tried to apologize, he spun around and stalked to the back of the club. There he hung his black leather jacket up, and was pretty angry that it was ruined, for now. Drake wore that nearly everyday after a good washing. It was his favorite, after all, and he did his best to not get it ruined. Well, now he'd have to walk around in his black jeans and a plain white t-shirt. That is, if he walked around at all. Drake took that back entrance out of the Red Stripe Chicken to go view the front. The back of the club was... pretty boring, actually. He was surprised Juanita hadn't told him to go 'make it fun' yet. Drake stepped out of his sandals and let the black sand soak in his feet for a moment. It felt amazing. He finally got on and moved himself to the front of the building. The Red Stripe Chicken was actually quite elegant looking, despite it's name. It's Jamaican style showed the most and completely 'clicked' with Sa'fir's black sand. Flourescent lighting had completed the look. Everything just seemed to 'fit' there, thanks to Juanita's skill and his planning. Well, Drake better get that 'r' fixed. He knew Juanita wouldn't be very happy if it didn't get fixed by the next day. The man got to work.

Meanwhile Juanita was having the most fun of her life, of course, she said that everyday. But live in the moment, right? As new people walked in, she went to greet them, and possibly, dance if they were males. This made her old 'group' quite jealous and stalk of for something to drink - most likely, something that would get them even more drunk. She made sure to offer the newcomers some cocktails or something, for it was more fun when both parties were drunk. This group was especially outgoing, if you know what outgoing means in a nightclub. Although some of the men came with girls, which were getting pretty jealous and angry with Juanita, who kept flirting and dancing with their boyfriends. "Be right back." Juanita whispered in that irresistible tone. "Don't go anywhere without me." She winked her gold, huge, mascara and walked with a modeling attitude to go get another cocktail. The woman definitely had a 'thing' for cocktails. "Cocktail please." She asked the bartender. Looking around she added, "Oh, and where'd Drake go?" The guy shrugged but pointed to the front of the club. He then left but immediately returned with a cocktail in hand. All of her hired hands were male, and all of them did whatever Juanita asked - instantly (Well, of course. Not counting Drake Hargate.). Oh! He was fixing that 'r' that Juanita had some man ask him to fix it for her. Good, she didn't want her club having any less quality. With her best friend (a cocktail) in hand, she went back to the dance floor, ready to dance the night away.

[Mousen]

"Get out and stay out!" A female voice rang out; slightly hysteric, her hair hung loose and tangled, and mascara smudged all the way down her face, she stood by the door of an old house,
while a young man stood by the gate, a backpack in hand. "I open up my house, my house by right, to help you guys you, Felix, Wilson, everyone. You're my best friend H, my freaking best friend since nursery! And look at you!" The male in question has the appearance of a trouble causer, one that didn't really care how many times the police brought him "home" drunk. His dyed black hair had recently gained a few red streaks though they had faded as of late. A spiked collar hung around his neck and he always seemed to have a cigarette in his hand. The contrast was astonishing compared to the girl by the door, she had the appearance of someone in the wrong time period; her cotton shirt and waistcoat was reminiscent of Victorian times; though it was modernized to a point. Angry tears streamed down her face, as she tried to calm her erratic breathing. "H, I can't have this; It's still a business I run and I can't have you ruining it. This is the last straw, you've upset Phoebe; Champ; Snake; Felix and now Wilson, do you know how bad it is once you've set her off? Her paranoia hurts us all; it hurts us seeing her like this. But do you care H? Do you honestly care about anything but yourself? What happened to you?" Her eyes portrait nothing but pain and anger.

"Mouse..." H began, rubbing the back of his neck slightly. Mousen cut him off. "I'm not getting woken up at 4AM just to have the police drag you back here; it's hurting us all and Tanworth's reputation. I'm not exactly pictured as the most responsible landlady, I don't even own this place; buy right my guardian does until I'm eighteen. That guardian is Talkore; and if anything happens to him we're all freaking messed up, so I don't need another thing to worry about, especially not you. I'm sorry H, but it seems as if nothing else will get through to you."
H shrugged. "It's just another person that hates me, isn't it?" His tone was insolent, to the point of uncaring.
She looked him in the eyes her expression unfathomable. "I don't hate you Harlequin Johnson; I hate what you've become." Her words were sharp and cutting, with one last glance at the youth, there was perhaps a tint of sadness in them, she slammed the door; leaving one emowockee and his belongings out in the night.

H closed his eyes for a moment and leant his head against the wall; that had hurt. He sighed shakily; something made him wonder why he'd gotten himself into this mess in the first place. "You had to go and get yourself thrown out; didn't you H." He muttered to himself, he couldn't even remember the last time Mouse had called him by his full name; to her, he had always been H. To H, she had always been Heath; or Mouse if he was being serious. In a swift movement he lit a cigarette and placed it to his lips. He knew he should quit, but to be honest he didn't think he'd be around long enough to regret it. After several moments in deep thought, as deep as someone like H could think that is, he stubbed out his cigarette against the wall; adjusted his collar and headed to the nearest town, to the nearest bar or nightclub to be exact.

Life had never been very easy for the seventeen year-old youth; his life had been the less tragic, less important version of Felix's life. He'd been brought up by his mother; they'd gotten on well to a point, that was until she started dating again. Her boyfriends were the ones with issues, she took pity on them bringing them in; whether she truly cared for them or not. Harley had always had some problems; severe mood swings but it wasn't until his mother was injured by her latest pity date that the problem became apparent; he was suffering from Bipolar; the craziest highs and the most depressing lows was what he went through. This bothered his mother no-end, and such through lack of attention then an overload of it, Harlequin rebelled; he rebelled against everything his mother stood for; now being fourteen he took of on his own and never looked back. The authorities soon caught up with him; but being defiant as he was H chose to go into care; into the same care home where Felix; Wilson and the rest were; that was were the trouble began.

So here he was now, walking the back streets at just shy of midnight, the smell of the sea seemed to clash with the rough edges of the city streets. Sa'fir. He knew his way around well enough to know where he was going. He weaved through dingy back streets and tired looking houses as they slowly faded into the upmarket seafront, the tide was well out, though the sound was still as apparent as if it were only a few steps away, rather than at it's furthest point, stretching itself away from the black scaled dragon that was the sweeping coast of Sa'fir. The steady beat of music drifted down from the famous, or infamous new club. The Red Stipe Chicken... Wait, that wasn't right. H laughed to himself upon realizing the florescent "r" had gone out. It was an odd place; both clashing and matching at the same time; the Jamaican essence of the place made it an ideal party spot, especially on summers such as these. He slunk through the crowds with ease, the usual smirk apparent on his features. He winked at a few females; aswell as the odd surprised male. That always made everything much more fun. He caught sight of Juanita as she passed him, always it seemed that girl was up to something; H watched the heads turn with an amused expression as she walked. He'd been around the nightclub enough times to know wherever she went; all the males went too. "Juanita; long time, no see." He said, smirking. He was a head taller than her, even with her high heel. It was only a charade; H preferring his own side of the population by half.

(The last part is okay, right? I can edit.)

[Eunwon]

The music was blaring in the Juanita's ears, and she swore her ear drums were about to pop any second now. But, because nothing was better then this, she kept on going, despite any uncomfort she felt. Her cocktail emptied (she's had quite a few now), and not thinking to straight about anything she walked up to go get another one. Two of the three men she was dancing with started to follow her, and so the woman had to turn around and 'talk' to them with her eyes. Something that was supposed to mean ''Stay, I'll come back." But neither of them got the message, which shouldn't be surprising considering they were quite drunk. So, Juanita had to go up to them and tell them to stay back, while nudging one with her slightly long, gold, fingernail. He looked back at her and winked.

"Another cocktail, please." Juanita asked, her finger's rapping on the countertop. But the man, who seemed pretty young to be working here, just stared at her. "Now." She added in a strict tone, which snapped the man out of his daze. He instantly went to go get one. "Shouldn't you take a brake from those now? What is that, your hundreth one?" Juanita didn't even bother to turn her head. Drake, being all protective again. It's not like she was going to kill herself. The man came back with her cocktail, and she just about started to walk off. "Juanita, put that down. Seriously." He started to come up to her. She just rolled her eyes and looked at him. "Really, Drake? Really? I'm a fully grown woman. I can make my own decisions." She started to take a sip, but that so-called human stole it out of her hands. "You might be able to make your own decisions - but those decisions are the wrong ones." Drake whispered to her as he poored the drink down the sink. She gaped at him, and because she was pretty drunk herself, she was about to smack him. Hard. He just looked at her, not moved in the least. "Here. I'll trade you." Drake said, holding out a pina colada that came from, where? He probably had it the whole time, she was just to drunk to notice. The woman wanted to snatch it out of his hands and poor it all over him, but she didn't feel like making a scene. So Juanita just grabbed it and stormed off, back to her dance floor. "You'll thank me one day!" Drake called, slightly amused at her reaction. Juanita just thrusted her middle finger up in the air.

It had been a while now, and it was already 3:00 AM in the morning. She needed to get some sleep tonight, be it was two hours or ten. She had been dancing for a while now, when she felt slightly strange to her stomach. Odd - that never happened before. It was probably all those drinks. She normally never had that much, or drank it that fast. Her minidress was swaying quite viciously and her gold hoop earings were all over the place. Her hair, her hair was, a tornado. The little hawaiian flower must've fallen out somewhere, and the big curls were snarled. She looked totally drunk, tired, and messy. But all the same the words sexy and wild screamed, as well. But they screamed a lot louder.

Time flew by. She flew by. There really was no limit here. She would've gone all night had she not met H. H. He was here, winking and acting like he owned the place. Not that that bothered her. It was just... different. "Same goes for you." Juanita smirked right back at him, and she shooed her current little 'posse' away. They were quite mad then, and stomped off with a jealous look at H. "What are you doing here?" She asked, taking a step closer, batting her eyelashes on top of her innocent eyes. She debated to flirt or not - but debating doesn't get far when your drunk. So, yeah, she'll flirt. But in the back of her head she remembered what she owed him, not like she was going to talk about. No, that shouldn't even be a thought. Well, maybe it was her chance to pay back. Tomorrow. Juanita was far to tired and drunk to do anything today. Juanita cocked her head, waiting for an answer.

[Mousen]

H rolled his eyes as if it were obvious. "I got thrown out the house again; it looks more permanent this time though; it's just obvious she prefers that insufferable idiot, Felix..." He trailed of realizing Juanita was too drunk to care and was trying to flirt with him; it would have been flattering if she hadn't been in such a state. It was a damn good thing this nightclub was in one of the better (if not the best) area of Sa'fir; right by the beach front the be exact. He'd always admired Juanita, if only for her "life's too short and too serious" attitude, but it did seem as if she was taking things a little too far even by H's standard. "Where's Drake?" He asked; his eyes scanning through the mas of people in an attempt to find the rather dark character.

Failing he turned back to Juanita; he wondered why tonight of all nights she had chosen to get herself well and truly drunk. His bad luck endless today, even though Juanita wasn't the type to listen to his sob stories, he may have gotten a little sympathy and pointed in the direction of the cheapest hotel. He frowned at her for a moment; scrutinizing her. Why was he being the serious one again? H sighed to himself, Mousen's quips must have thrown him much further than even he realized. Anti-depressants anyone?

H's eyes fell to his wristwatch, he swore under his breath; it was much later than he realized. It really didn't matter; but it did mean Mousen's will power and the belief he was too selfish to top himself were holding up; that or she'd just forgotten she'd just forgotten about him. A small voice in his head pointed out the fact she might not care one bit; but he ignored it; as usual. He was bipolar; not schizophrenic thank goodness, they had enough problems with Wilson's paranoia- He paused there in his thoughts; realizing the fact it wasn't his problem anymore; technically he was ousted from that family. He may as well never see any of them ever again. He winced; ah the pain that came with caring. H wondered why he'd let himself get to that stage before getting chucked out; it had been obvious from an early age that most people came and went; the trick was not to get attached so you didn't care when they left.

It was only then H realized their was something wet sliding down his cheek. Oh god; he must he going soft. Pretending he'd been stupid enough to poke himself in the eye, he quickly rubbed the back of his hand over his face. Muttering something about poking himself.

What in the name of therapy was she doing here? Phoebe wasn't sure what kind of idiot she had been to follow the dark-haired youth all the way from Tanworth to here. The crowds, everything. The hypnotherapy technique seemed to be working so far; she hadn't screamed yet. That was something. She let out a small whimper of fear as she looked around the crowded street. She could almost count all her phobias that were in this small seaside place. She swallowed hard, trying to calm both her erratic breathing and her fluttering heart down to a pace that might be considered "normal".

It was a good ten minute's she stood there, pressing her thin frame up against the wall. Her breathing may be a tad closer to normal, but her heart seemed to get worse the longer she waited. Deciding she couldn't put it off any longer she sprinted toward the club. The loud pounding music drowning out the beat of her heart, even in her own ears she could no longer hear the frantic fluttering that indicated just how scared she was. Phoebe, or Phobia as she was often called was scared of everything. From the normal everyday fears to the completely weird.

"Phobia!" H yelled completely surprised, and slightly amazed to see her. Acting purely out of surprise he threw his arms around her. "Phoebe." He corrected himself, stepping back. He wasn't part of her group anymore; her nickname wasn't his to use.

"It's still Phobia, H." She managed a smile, not even realizing her usual stutter was non-existent. Phoebe smiled again; this time looking a great deal more confident. "You stink of smoke." She said, disapprovingly. H was her friend, sure he took the p*ss out of everything within a ten mile radius and generally annoyed everything beyond reason. He was selfish, cold, emotionless at times. Acting like a complete drama queen at others.  But he was her friend never the less and she didn't want him to drop dead of lung cancer.

H shrugged; he couldn't care in the least if he dropped dead tomorrow; life was too long anyway. Who needed eighty years? Flies did well with two weeks. It was evident, the depressive side of bipolar was kicking in, and from the way he was feeling at this moment, even with Phobia there it was going to be hardest down for a while. "Juanita, Phoebe, vice-verca." He said throwing in a smirk for good measure. Juanita was too drunk to care probably.

Phoebe sighed inwardly; this was the H they all hated, the one with a constant smirk on his face. The one that asked for trouble. "You should have some bread or something you know; you'll have one hec of a hangover tomorrow." H was taken aback, so what Phobia to be honest; she was usually never so direct nor did she usually have the nerve to speak to people she didn't know all too well.
Ooc: Click the pet image for human form. )

[Eunwon]

Kicked out of the house? Juanita's brain racked at her memory of H, that was so him, right? Ughh, she really shouldn't have drank so much. What are the chances? The night she decides to go extreme, her old - friend? - H appears and starts blabbering a bunch of things the woman can't fully comprehend. Although she was gradually getting clearer, the Pina Colada's definitely had a different affect on her then all those cocktails. She twisted her head, trying to find Drake. She owed him an apology. Not finding him, she looked back at H. Funny how he had looked for Drake, or someone, at the same exact. Juanita decided to do her best (which really wasn't that impressive), to try and understand what was up. It must have been pretty dramatic or something, because the woman saw a tear fall from the Emowockee's eye. "Well, H, I'm sorry. If there's anything..." Juanita trailed off, did H just throw his arms around a woman? A terribly frightened woman, at that. Weird. Girlfriend, maybe? But the woman just shook her head, it wasn't like H to have a girlfriend, was it?

Things were getting even weirder, did he call the blonde Phobia? She took a step back, letting the two chat for a bit. Then she was introduced, Phoebe. Phobia must be a nickname, probably had something to do with that frightened look she wore. Whatever. She didn't care. Drake wants to go hug some woman and treat her like, well, Juanita didn't know what he was treating her like, but he was definitely paying her more attention then he was paying Juanita.

That bugged her. Not because she liked H personally (the woman liked any man), it was that, well, no guy besides Drake ever went to another woman. And Juanita thought it should stay that way. She rolled her eyes as H introduced her to 'Phobia' or Phoebe, or whatever. "Well, I think I'm going to go have some fun." She stated, emphasizing the word 'fun'. Hopefully H would get jealous. Hopefully Phoebe would leave. Hopefully H could start following her around, start loving her. Like everyone else. It was like an itch that didn't go away - how H just left.

The woman danced for a while, actually, just 30 mins. But it seemed like a while. She was going as extreme as she could be, which was quite a lot. The men enjoyed it more than usual, but not her constant peaking at H. Juanita decided to ditch them for a second, she needed to find Drake. Drake, Drake, not there, not there. She wandered around for a while, not liking the feeling of having to work for what she wanted. Finally, it clicked, he must be working on the lights. Juanita went out the back, sighing as her bare feet soaked in the sand. After a few seconds, she went to Drake. There he was, up on a latter, hammering something? "Drake!" No response, but a slight glance from him. Besides that, the man just went back to work. "Drake! Get down here, I've got a problem..." He glanced at her again, and with a sigh he walked down from the ladder.

"What's it now?" Drake asked in a smirk. "Did you brake your fingernail? Oh no! I'll go call 911!" He snorted sarcastically. Juanita just stared. Oh, how she'd like to snap back, but her problem was to 'big'. "Funny. It's H, remember him? Yeah. Well he isn't paying attention to me! He found this girl and started talking to her and like forgot about me for a whole five mins! Five! That's never happened to me before..." The woman trailed on and on, not noticing Drake's face, which was about to burst into tears from laughter. "Well, Juanita. I bet he was just meeting a friend he hadn't seen in a while. Think about that! I mean, it's like so rare. Who ever talks to someone they haven't seen it a while? It's just so, un-natural." The woman snorted, actually, it did seem kind of dumb now that he mentioned it... But she wasn't going to let him get away with this. Juanita opened her mouth for a response, but Drake beat her to it. "Or, if not, maybe he does like this girl. Then you got rejected!" The man couldn't help but crack up. He then went back to work, ignoring Juanita with a cheery grin.

He made her so mad sometimes. But Drake wasn't going to crack. She should just go back and pretend nothing happened. Maybe even go extreme with H, hopefully making that 'Phobia' jealous.

[Mousen]

H shook his head slightly as Juanita walked away; obviously planning to dance as long is it was humanly possible to do so. "I wonder what's gotten into her." He wondered aloud, like most men H was completely oblivious to the inner workings of her mind. Phoebe rolled her eyes, pushing her pale blonde hair out of her eyes. It was a fruitless effort; her hair was cut that way, in a bob with a long swept-to-the-side fringe. "Isn't it obvious H? She's jealous, even the most unobservant person could get that vibe." She grinned at H, her teeth very white, even against her pale skin.

"What?" he asked, obviously confused. "Let me break this down for you, simpleton, it's plain to see a girl like her is going to want attention and I doubt she has many female friends looking like a run away model." Phoebe felt a little bit more confident around H, it was probably since she knew him so well, that and his usual smirking mask seemed to be diminishing, or atleast for the moment.

H nodded, getting the point. Just. The way other girls saw each other was confusing. Though, he doubted he'd ever understand it; on a topic such as this it was best to nod and pretend he got it. Though it was strange to think someone as, Juanita-ish as herself needed such attention. Though it was often the way things worked, the most beautiful and most popular were often the most lonely inside. Though Juanita had it good; she had Drake and himself (somedays) even if she didn't really got on with the female side of the species.

Ah. H caught Phoebe's eyes for a moment. He blinked and looked down awkwardly; oh god. There was no mistaking the "Champagne-Bottle Fizz" that meant there was chemistry. Bother. Pushing the thought to the back of his mind he smiled, though it was more of a nervous grimace.

Phobia too looked down. "Erm.." She said, laughing nervously. "So," she began at a loss for what to say. "You should really quit smoking H, it'll do you in." Phoebe brought up an old topic; she'd normally leave old arguments where they lie but she couldn't think of anything else.

H shrugged, the incident forgotten for now. That was were it would stay; chemistry at first glancewas an easy thing to come across. Rarely was it anything major. Besides he wasn't going to ruin his friendship; one of his only friendships to be quite frank. "So..." He began, parroting Phobia though wishing he hadn't, for it just made everything much more awkward. "Why did you follow me here?" H asked suddenly, slightly surprised by how curious he was. Really he couldn't imagine any reason why she'd want to follow him here, nothing plausible anyway. Perhaps the curiousity showed in his voice because Phobia was silent a while before repyling, a teasing smile on her face.

"Well..." She begain jokingly. Even H himself laughed slightly at her melodrama. "What do you expect any way? I was only trying to makesure you didn't get into much trouble. 'Cause I care H, maybe it doesn't show often, or maybe you're so wrapped up in hating Felix and all the jealously, that you feel toward him because he's Mousen's best friend. We all care H, you just don't open you're eyes and see that often enough." Or at all. This is the real reason she had followed him here. To try and get through to him. To get past the smoking, drinking, smirking H down to the vunerable guy who could be a real sweatheart at times; even if he then glossed over it slightly. All Phobia needed was a few minutes to get through to him; he was wasting his life in a mess of cigarettes and goodness knows what else.

(Fail o3o)

[.:Random Event 2:.]

They'd always said that alcohol had brought out the worst in people and encouraged irrational thinking, and for anyone who had watched the scene, that was painfully obvious. It had a funny way with messing with one's mind, swirling thoughts around and twisting them to it's fickle whims. It didn't discriminate, no not at all and it hated everyone equally.

However, there had been one watching the scene with some curiosity, as it had an uncanny fascination with those capable of creating dramas like the one it just witnessed. It was naturally attracted to people such as Juanita, as they were the types who surrounded their lives with drama, as opposed to sorts like Drake, which the creature paid no heed to.
But as the female stormed off, so had it as the harsh smell of smoke was too strong for the creature to handle.

(Just posting to say that neither of you guys got anything, not that you were looking or anything~ 8D Who says we aren't active?)