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Spikey844

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About Spikey844

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  1. Dreams are weird things at the best of times. Flights of fancy beyond the control of the conscious mind, weaving into the aether of ones soul. Gabby's were no exception. Around her was a forest, tall, foreboding, welcoming, warm. Things skittered around her, and she did not know whether to be scared or comforted by them. She walked forward, along a path that appeared before her step by step, stone forming out of nothingness for her bare feet to alight on, silent as a distant fall of rain. Somewhere distant, a quiet melody began to twist between the trunks, the baritone tune weaving into the air. Her footsteps quickened. She thought she recognised the tune, the singer. It crawled at the back of her mind. The terrain shifted, roots becoming great paths for her to run across, steps becoming short hops, then leaps as she bounded between the root- no, branches of the trees. They were too high up now, the ground had fallen away to fog below. Faster, faster, faster. Ever chasing the melody, that deep baritone siren, calling to her. The things skittered around her still, leaping around her, swinging between the trees. Whispers of conversation reached her, words indistinct, but there none the less. She kept running, leaping, bounding, flipping along these living pathways, ever chasing that elusive song.
  2. Gabby would mumble a little as she was laid in the bed, but otherwise she didn't really stir. She hadn't stirred in Cyriann's arms either, almost immobile apart from the slow rise and fall of her chest. Curled up and quite asleep. When she was put in the bed, she somewhat instinctively reached out and pulled the blankets up around her, rolling onto her side. She was, quite frankly, the picture of adorableness.
  3. Gabby yawned again, rubbing at her eyes. "You're both adults compared to me," she mumbled, leaning slightly into Cyriann's hold. She was definitely becoming more sleepy. Even as she walked, her feet were beginning to drag. By the time they reached the stairs, she'd be almost asleep on her feet. Poor girl was very tired. Then her legs gave out. Her grip, already loosened, would give completely unless Cyriann held on. If not, she'd tumble forward and flop onto the ground, completely passed out.
  4. Gabby flailed her arms at Cyriann's headpat, an ineffectual attempt to stop him from doing so. "I'm not sleepy!" She declared, a little more vehemently, before yawning once more. "Maybe just a little tired," she admitted, getting up from the table. She took Cyriann's hand after a moment of staring at it, then looked up at him. "Do you know where we are sleeping?" She said, a little blearily, sleep clearly beginning to close in on her.
  5. With people seemingly going their own ways, and now with a rather full stomach, the trails and tribulations of the day began to catch up with the youngest member of the group. This was signalled in the most obvious manner possible, namely, a huge yawn and stretch, sleeves falling down her arms to show her furry limbs. "I'm not tired," she said, almost out of habit. Not that anyone would actually believe her, not with what had just happened. Gabby's drooping eyelids didn't exactly reinforce her argument. It had been a long day in any case, and despite the extra energy gained from being infected, she was still a child. A bed had her name on it. Someone just had to get her to it.
  6. Gabby gave Agnes a wide smile and yanked the plate closer to her, almost knocking some of the food off the plate. She swapped Agnes' cutlery for her own before tucking in, not quite shovelling the food into her mouth, but almost. Her mother would have had words with her if she saw her manners right now. It took all of half a minute for Gabby to devour the plate's contents. Once it was all but licked clean, she put her knife and fork together, as if she hadn't just resembled an animal at a feeding frenzy, and sat back slightly, looking much more content. Then a small burp escaped her, and she clapped a hand over her mouth, looking thoroughly embarrassed. "Sowwee," she mumbled.
  7. Gabby shrugged, pulling away slightly. “You needed a hug. Besides, it’ll probably annoy the fashion dictator.” Ok, Agnes did still smell, but hugs should not be put off by that kinda of thing... Thought Agnes did really smell. Time for a swift retreat. She shuffled off of Agnes and back down onto the bench, before her attention was drawn the plate of unfinished food the doctor had pushed away. Her eyes locked onto it like a missile, before she looked away, not trying to appear too greedy.
  8. Gabby wasn't entirely convinced by Dino dodging what she'd said. Eleven she may be, but she wasn't stupid. She could tell when someone was only responding to part of what she'd said. But she let it slide. She had someone else to focus on. Namely, Agnes, whose dark little speech was not something Gabby could let slide without some sort of comment. In this case, the 'comment' was Gabby just about lunging into Agnes's lap and wrapping her arms around her, preventing the doctor from going anywhere. Whatever memories Agnes was suddenly reminded of, gut feeling told the cat-girl that it would be unwise to let the doctor be alone. So she grabbed onto her, arms wrapping around her, hopefully stopping her from leaving. She didn't even say anything, just hugged her, head buried in Agnes' shoulder, a warm and comforting and entirely non-judgemental presence. The child-like innocence and naivety was in full force in that moment, and if Agnes wanted to walk off, she'd do so with Gabby clinging to her. After all, some people just needed a good hug. Agnes had given her a hug earlier, as she'd cried out of relief and terror in the square earlier. It was time to return the favour.
  9. Gabby gave Dino a long and considering look, mulling over what she’d just heard. Hatred wasn’t something she’d dealt with much, only in books and on tele, and the occasional film. But she had seen it once with her own eyes, two people having a shouting match in the middle of the street in broad daylight. She hadn’t understood it until later, when her parents had explained it to her, but she could see similar signs from Dino, voice hard and angry, body posture tight, the not nice language. Yeah. Dino hated Karl. Gabby tilted her head the other way. “Well... people who do bad things should be punished right? What if this is his punishment?” Her gaze shifted to look after Karl, and Martijn who had followed on. “If he truly has done all these bad things, he now doesn’t have the easy way out.” She looked down at her hands, extending her claws so they were visible. Her voice had dropped, taking on a world weary tone that had no place belonging to an eleven year old girl. “We’re stronger now. We can do things other’s can’t. We will survive where a normal human would die. Sometimes living with your mistakes is worse than not.” She retracted her claws and looked back up at Dino. “Or maybe this is his second chance. Maybe he is still alive because he now has the chance to redeem himself.” She stared back after Karl. “I think that’s what he wants. His wrongs will never go away, but maybe he can balance the scales.” For another moment, she was silent, morose. Then she smiled again, weight suddenly lifting from her shoulders, and looked back up at Dino. “Do you know if we can get more food? I’m still hungry.” The last few words were somewhat sheepish, but held none of the world weary tone she’d been speaking in mere moments ago.
  10. Gabby looked at ....Karl's? Karl's retreating back in some confusion, before looking back at Dino. Though young, she was not blind to the animosity between the two, and could tell it was mostly Dino angry at Karl, with the latter being more resigned than anything else. She didn't understand why though. The two had only met with everyone else in the square, as far as she knew anyway, but still there was the conflict between the two. "Why don't you like him?" She asked Dino after a moment, head tilted to one side.
  11. Gabby looked up from her food and blinked slowly, first at Cyriann, then at Tara, her head swivelling between the two. "I didn't? Oh." She tilted her head slightly to one side. She looked back at Cyriann, then gave him a downright mischievous smile. "I didn't know you were a fae." She waggled her fork at him. "I know not to give my name to a fae, but you may call me Gabby." She looked inordinately proud of herself. No fairy was going to steal her free will. The virus might.... That though floated through her mind, and made her face fall for a moment, before she put her bright smile back on.
  12. Despite being deeply drawn to the smell of food wafting through the room, Gabby didn’t miss the hesitation in the servers when they saw her hands. She drew them back into her sleeves a somewhat fearful expression crossing her face. But them something very important caught her attention. The food. It proceeded to occupy her attention for next few minutes as she devoured her plate load in a swift and ruthlessly efficient manner. Only her surprisingly good manners stopped it looking like stuffing her face. Just.
  13. Gabby picked her head up off the table and gave Agnes a slightly confused look. "But I can move more easily in this," she said with a slight pout, "I just prefer jeans to skirts. They're warmer and don't flap. My coat is flappy enough." She proceeded to demonstrate by waving her arms around for a moment, the sleeves flailing and flapping. She sighed after a moment, her previously perky attitude vanishing suddenly. "Hungry," she mumbled.
  14. “That lady over there,” Gabby said, pointing out Esme with her free hand, then glaring at her, “she’s an evil fashion critic though. I wanted jeans, but she put me in this!” She waved at her skirt and tights with a free hand, completely ignoring anything resembling an inside voice. “And this, this! Was the compromise! She wanted to put me in a dress!” She flumped onto the table and began mumbling about being quite able to choose her own clothes and dress herself, thank you very much.
  15. One set of clean clothes and a shower later, and Gabby was feeling much better. Even if said clothes had been forced on her by a tyrant. Honestly, a pleated, knee length, green and blue tartan skirt? Black tights? She'd only avoided a 'cute' dress by literally getting her claws out. Thankfully they had a shirt that was about her size, though the only jumpers available were oversized. That was fine by Gabby. She'd always liked overly large ones. Plus, they hid her hands if she wanted them to. There had also been a row over her coat. Esme had tried to take it away, give her something more 'fashionable', but Gabby had levelled first a death glare, and when that had failed, deployed her most dangerous weapon. She'd deployed her puppy eyes. Or were they now kitty eyes? Either way, she kept the coat. And her boots. They were practical. Now, following group/her nose/the-person-who-greeted-thems call, she was headed to find food. Foooooooood. Ehm. "Oooh, free table," Gabby said, bouncing up and down before grabbing the nearest person, who happened to be Agnes, and practically dragging them by the hand towards said table.
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