|
by Zseni 03/04/2003, 2:27am PST |
|
 |
|
 |
|
So Sally "talked me into" some out of chat RP tonight with Jane along for backup (my idea, not hers.) I got them warmed up by extracting myself from the action, watching as they went at it with each other. Was that the greatest warm-up exercise ever? Because Sally busted out on me, showing herself to be at least as nasty and responsive as Jane, and actually probably more, and she threw me for such a huge loop that I'm still reeling. I learned more about her and the way she does business in the last couple of hours than I have in weeks previous.
The gamble paid off: she's got something up her sleeve, and I have this lovely thrilling feeling like the hunt is really on now. She was the last man standing, and now I know she's the only one in the room capable of giving me a real fight. The little bitch laid me down. Obviously, this means war.
After weeks of calling all the shots, pulling all the strings, making all the decisions - at a moment precisely when I was beginning to think I had the whole scene completely played - WHAM, what a pop in the jaw! My advisory council says things like "watch out, maybe she knows about the articles, maybe she's playing you", but seriously, what ending could be better? Sally, sweetheart, if you're tuning in out there: I'm coming for you, and I'm going to rattle every last secret out of you by sheer cockpower and not even advance notice will save you from me. |
|
 |
|
 |
|
|
|