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Snippet #2209140

located in Portland, a part of Delirium, one of the many universes on RPG.

Portland

Portland - A well established community, except for the scarce occasions of the deliria here and there.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Morgan Alistair Makota Character Portrait: Theodin Jaynar Everett Character Portrait: Annette Makota
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❝ AN N E T T E ------ M A K O T A ❞
"She wasn’t going to let her savior go, not until she at least thanked him."




The more embarrassed she became, the more the tears raced from her eyes. Annette began to blush through her sobs, sensing how she must seem to this stranger, who would most definitely force her through a wretched Cure. The Cure! She began crying harder, beginning to shake her head. No! she began to scream in her thoughts, I don’t want to be like them! I want my mom! She couldn’t hear the stranger talking to her, though she did sense the low, hushed, frantic whispers of his. A boy, she realized. A strange boy who seemed to be hiding from Regulators as well. Perhaps... she slid her fingers apart the slightest bit, and was surprised to see a face she recognized. Yes, she had seen him on her visits to Portland. She calmed then, or at least, tried to. She still cried softly and hiccuped, a result of her fierce weeping, and removed her hands from her face, staring up at him, still red-faced, still teary-eyed, still stressed and overwhelmed and sad, but no longer weeping so harshly. Just soft sobbing and hiccuping, little sounds that moved her body up and down in a rhythm that soothed her, somehow.

He was beginning to rant a little, she realized. “What the hell are you crying about anyway?” he was whispering. Annette nearly smiled; somehow, in the middle of this rain and this thunder, she was finding him a little adorable. Flustered, bewildered, and very similar to a little boy. Annette decided it was endearing, and that she liked him. She opened her mouth to say something, anything. “Hi, nice to meet you,” would be awkward, she decided. “I’ve seen you before,” sounded borderline creepy. And apologizing for her sobbing would not calm this boy. Before she could decide on what her first words to him would be, he grabbed her and began to run.

Startled, Annette tried her best to follow, but he was dragging her with such strength she couldn’t seem to keep up with her own physical effort. She was pushed into a corner and covered with his hand, her warm breath bouncing from his palm to her face, warming her in the shivering cold. Annette willed herself to stop crying, and miraculously, the tears slowed. She blinked at the boy, his savior, who had protected her from Regulators. She smiled at him, making sure it showed in her eyes. Thank you, she wanted to say, for keeping me safe when no one was there. But before he could even notice her smile, much less respond to it, he was assaulted with a can. A can, of all things. Annette nearly sighed; why was it that every time she even attempted to communicate with this stranger, she was interrupted? Why did she even care, anyway?

It was then that an oddly familiar voice shouted, “How about you take your hands off my sister!”

Oh, no. Annette’s eyes widened considerably, and she began to frantically grab the boy’s hands off of her mouth. Morgan had found her! How?! She was about to run, when the boy sounded like.. like he recognized Morgan. Oh, she better stay, make sure nothing happened. Besides, she had to thank the boy, after all. Trying to be discreet, she shuffled behind him, trying to hide. Morgan seemed to know the boy, too. How did they know each other?! Annette became frustrated. He was her savior. Her friend! Not Morgan’s!

“Where’s Johann?” Morgan shouted. She would have to lie. Here goes nothing, Annette thought, aware of her miserable incompetence at lying.

“Well, he... I wanted to go to Portland, and he... Johann, he, uh...” She couldn’t think under the pressure, couldn’t function correctly, and decided to hope for the best and do the first thing that came to mind, to stall, to avoid, and to distract Morgan. ”Run!” she shouted to the boy, taking his hand and beginning to run in the opposite direction. She gripped his hand as tight as she could, determined not to let go. He may be strong, but so was she, and she had had years of practice, of holding people’s hands in affection, in begging, in loving. She wasn’t going to let her savior go, not until she at least thanked him.

And not until he explained to her how he knew Morgan. And not until she found Johann. Annette was convinced that this boy could keep her safe from everything and everyone, and she would need that in this thunderstorm. She still cringed each time the thunder roared, and cowered and shook and shivered when she thought about the next one. She needed a protector, and Morgan would only get her in trouble. This boy would have to do. Somehow, she trusted him already.