It would have been nice if my dentist’s office called before cancelling my appointment on this rainy day! No matter, I’m enjoying some delicious Alambre. Besides, TrumpCare is dead. It’s a good Friday after all! - Harry. #TaqueriaCancun #MexicanFood
Fraser: Let’s say I did have a question. One that was unique to me. Where would I go to ask it?
Robert: In here, son [points to Ben’s heart]. You ask yourself. Your whole life is in here, compressed into a single point in space and time. So that no matter what direction you step, your destination is the same.
The GOP will always care far more about a four week old fetus than they will about those one million dead Iraqi civilians, Tamir Rice and all the innocent people Trump is casually threatening to nuke. That's sort of the problem with them.
You have to be a zygote to get any affection or empathy.
… Another face she didn’t recognize? Actually, there were a lot of faces she didn’t recognize lately. Well, she looked somewhat like a witch, so a witch she’ll be until told otherwise. As long as they didn’t blast their way past.
“Hey, you. Witch. Are you lost? This isn’t a safe place for surfacers.”
She had been walking what seemed like an endless march with her head hung low. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes gazing downward. She found herself unable to go to any one for council. Her trusted friend was nowhere to be found, the magus that she proclaimed to be a great warrior of justice had ripped her self-image to shreds and she had not the heart to seek out her beloved savior out of fear after her true form and looking at her as if she were a monster.
All that anyone would be able to see if a downtrodden teenage girl with the weight of of her own world crashing down around her. She had walked so long and so far that she did not even noticed she had hit the industrial side of Mitakihara. The entire scenery blended together as she drowned in the endless ocean of her personal torment and despair.
Her ruby red eyes did not even reflect or shine with the same exuberant brilliance they once did. She could barely stand to converse with herself, it always wound up the same to her. Chiding herself over being a monster and scaring Mami away from her side.
She continued to drag her feet about like dead weight, both exhausted mentally and emotionally. As she wandered onward she found herself in a concert hall. Though she barely payed it any mind, not realizing she had stepped into familiar grounds once more .
“What do you think you’re doing here, hm? Are you here for another beating?” Oktavia’s voice echoed throughout the concert hall. Just great. Kazumi, out of all Magi, had wandered into her barrier. Why she decided to come, she didn’t care, but she did not want to go through another fight with her, even though it was amusing last time, seeing her all weak and confessing to being a Witch. She looked out of it, as though she was sinking in her own world of despair. Would she dare and push her even further to turn her into a Witch? It seemed like a pleasant thought, but Oktavia was in no mood to watch someone else descend into despair in her barrier again. One time was enough.
“I will ask you again, why are you here? I’m in no mood to deal with Magi, especially with you, so make it quick.”
The best type of people are the ones who will never stop rambling on about the FOUR LIVES~! lost in Benghazi and how Hillary has TO PAY~! but will never, not once, in their sad, sad lives, stop to give a shit about those one million dead Iraqi civilians, Tamir Rice, Sandra Bland, or all the people who die in mass shootings.
Presumably, to these People/Demons in Human Form, the only time your tragic, needless death matters is when it can be used to take a political shot at Clinton or Obama.