Coming... home? [Forward Dated, Morning, Jan 29]

[pluckyreporter]

Action, by the hospital, 'around town'.

[She staggered out, when the pain was not to the point where she couldn't see straight, and began to stagger toward home. They'd given her clothes that barely managed to be decent while allowing for those massive mothwings to be 'free' -- and so the currently-green and aching Roxanne Ritchi headed toward home.]

[It was a long walk, especially with the pain. She-- could probably use a hand in getting home, maybe.]

Action, home

[Once back home she promptly found the couch, curled up on it and had a long cry-- she hadn't cried like this since the mess in Thanksgiving, but when she could see-- see that she was changig before her very eyes there was really no stopping the tears. It was only a hallucination, but it seemed so real...]

[But eventually she did get up, trying to find her strength, and went for the phone.]

Phone; to Megamind

Megamind? Are you there--?

I-- I'm home.

They took me to a-- a place. I don't know where now. But-- oh, God, Megamind-- they're doing such mad things, trying to fix that machine...

Comments

[pluckyreporter]

Not at all. Probably for the best. Can you see me flapping around bonfires and street lamps?

[afterthesky]

[She can't help smiling at that particular image]

I'm sure there's a planet where that's perfectly normal.

[pluckyreporter]

Not mine, thankfully. We've got enough problems with alien visitors coming for extended stays.

[afterthesky]

Some visitors are definitely more noticeable than others. I've never seen moth people though.

[pluckyreporter]

Yeah. I know one who blends no problem-- and one who... doesn't. At all.

...guess which one is in Mayfield.

[... and who she's sleeping with. Awkward.]

[afterthesky]

At least no one really fits in here.

[pluckyreporter]

Yeah, good point. [And Roxanne fit in even less now, what with being winged and neon green.]