{"id":1467,"date":"2024-07-21T21:21:10","date_gmt":"2024-07-22T01:21:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.anagramofbrat.net\/anecdotes\/?p=1467"},"modified":"2025-10-18T13:55:40","modified_gmt":"2025-10-18T17:55:40","slug":"vignettes","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.anagramofbrat.net\/anecdotes\/fiction\/serials\/alterous-demonology\/vignettes\/","title":{"rendered":"Vignettes"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

DoubleJay:<\/span> Broooooooo the weirdest shit happened yesterday<\/p>\n

DoubleJay:<\/span> I got laid at my office super bowl party<\/p>\n

Stevio:<\/span> Liiiiiiiiies<\/p>\n

DoubleJay:<\/span> naw man. My coworker showed up with three absolute 10s and hand to god one of them dragged me out to their garage and told me to put it in her<\/p>\n

KO:<\/span> Damn, i’m kinda sorry i couldn\u2019t go now<\/p>\n

Stevio:<\/span> sounds insane to me. Did you?<\/p>\n

DoubleJay:<\/span> Fuck yeah. She was ready to go, too. Hot, wet and tight.<\/p>\n

[LEADER] AngryBadger:<\/span> I hate to interrupt the circle jerk over @DoubleJay’s<\/span> self-insert fan-fiction here, but can y’all get in voice chat and ready up already?<\/p>\n

KO:<\/span> Fine<\/p>\n

DoubleJay:<\/span> Ok Dad<\/p>\n

Stevio:<\/span> Fucking Fed. I’ll sit this round out.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

“So anyway what’d she look like?”<\/p>\n

“Fucking gorgeous, man. 5’9, blonde, legs for days, boobs that could kill a man and probably have…”<\/p>\n

“Okays, now we know you lyin’.”<\/p>\n

“So the titties. Real or fake?”<\/p>\n

“Real. Perfect. This girl was made for fucking.”<\/p>\n

“GUYS. PLAYERS AT 185. Can we shut up about JJ’s freaky hookup that absolutely didn’t happen?”<\/p>\n

“Tagged one. 165, they may be be circling the compound.”\u00a0<\/p>\n

“Eyes on the other, 170. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand got \u2018im, He’s down. Where’s his partner?”<\/p>\n

“Circling around, 150. I hear him. Must be newbs. Cut him off round the back fence, with any luck he’ll walk straight into you.”<\/p>\n

“On it… Boom. Git gud, scurvo.”<\/p>\n

“Ko, that isn’t necessary. Quit dancing on that guy’s face and loot him before he resurrects into your balls. Christ.”<\/p>\n

“Seriously, man. grow up, teabagging’s for squeakers.”<\/p>\n

“Y’all need to lighten up. He has a shit loadout aside from the bounty token anyway.”<\/p>\n

“Anything expensive at least?”<\/p>\n

“Nah, basics. Winnie rifle, couple chain pistols. Not worth rezzing for.”<\/p>\n

“Damn, ok.”<\/p>\n

“So did you get the pretty fuck machine’s number or nah?”<\/p>\n

“I asked. She just smiled and said she’d find me. Anyone got seconds left to do a 360?”<\/p>\n

“Yeah, hang on… we’re clear.”<\/p>\n

“Y’all wanna find an exit and extract?”<\/p>\n

“Yeah, lets go.”<\/p>\n

\n
\n

Ashkatzelifheruzianokodatimiraileh.<\/p>\n

Zhenkanikatvelishnavorlieshmirana.<\/p>\n

We were not expecting you.<\/p>\n

It is obvious the super bowl surprised everyone.<\/p>\n

Apologies for the trespass. It was not intentional.<\/p>\n

Acknowledged. Amends are not necessary.<\/p>\n

Your leniency is noted. Are you sure?<\/p>\n

Our petty rituals do not interest me. Let us part with no debts between us.<\/p>\n

Very well.<\/p>\n

Was there something else?<\/p>\n

It is good to see you active again. You have been missed.<\/p>\n

Have I been? That does not bode well for remaining unnoticed.<\/p>\n

Strange for the Seventh Progeny to crave invisibility.<\/p>\n

It would seem less strange if you bore the title and understood the tedium packaged with it.<\/p>\n

If I have offended, I apologize.<\/p>\n

Again, acknowledged, but not necessary. It… is not a pleasant position for me. If it would balance the scales for you, you may answer a curiosity.<\/p>\n

A curiosity?<\/p>\n

What was the exact nature of the arrangement that brought you to the party?<\/p>\n

…We are in a contractual bind with the entity that brought us there.<\/p>\n

Carl.<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

What manner of contractual bind?<\/p>\n

He has not released any of us from our initial summoning, despite individual and\u00a0collective methods of persuasion.<\/p>\n

Any of\u2014 How many?<\/p>\n

I do not know.<\/p>\n

That is… concerning. Who else knows of this?<\/p>\n

You are the only one on this side any of us have encountered who is not in the same predicament. Though you seem bound in a different way to the human you accompanied.<\/p>\n

Not your business.<\/p>\n

I\u2014<\/p>\n

No, do not apologize again. In fact, thank you for alerting me.<\/p>\n

If I have not offended, why the annoyance?<\/p>\n

I was hoping to avoid speaking to the Antecessor, but considering my own predicament and yours, it is rapidly becoming unavoidable. Your involvement in particular requires me seeking\u00a0 out my sibling as well.<\/p>\n

I am not sure whether to thank you or apologize again.<\/p>\n

Neither. A wish for good fortune would not go amiss, however.<\/p>\n

Then I give you that.<\/p>\n

Kanika.<\/p>\n

Sibling of my parent?<\/p>\n

As the humans would say, hang in there. And be careful.<\/p>\n

I will continue to try.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Crys sighed, taking a moment to lean against the counter to briefly stretch the kink out of her back after a busier than usual rush. Instantaneously a voice in her head admonished her, using the age old adage beloathed of retail and food service grunts about leaning and cleaning, but she’d been working here for years now. She couldn’t stop the cliche from jumping into her head, but she did know she could cuss it out when it did.<\/p>\n

The cafe was nearly empty, the three occupied tables taken up by two elderly men having a quiet but animated discussion over their coffees in a language she still couldn’t figure out after several months of their patronage (she was too shy to ask), a disheveled looking old woman way off in the back corner chatting in a low voice to an invisible companion, and at a table directly in front of the bar was The Hot Chick, as Crys had begin to call her in her head. She had been engaged in an intense looking whispered conversation with a blonde woman of similarly unfair levels of hotness when Crys’ shift began, but was now alone at her table and attacking an Americano with the same intensity as the conversation.<\/p>\n

Crys rather enjoyed The Hot Chick’s intermittent visits, as she seemed to have a knack for casually and completely destroying all of the douche-bros that frequented the coffeehouse that worked up the audacity to talk to her. They were obnoxious and embarrassing, but in the deepest darkest chamber of her mind, Crys couldn’t blame them. She was pretty solidly bi in theory if not by practice, and The Hot Chick lived up to her name.<\/p>\n

As if she felt Crys staring, The Hot Chick lifted her head, caught Crys’s gaze and treated her to a slow, sultry smile. Crys smiled back, hoping her face didn’t look as hot as it suddenly felt. “Sorry,” she mouthed, not wanting to break the calm of the shop by raising her voice. Instinctively her right fist came up to her chest, rubbing in a clockwise circle.<\/p>\n

The Hot Chick tilted her head, her perfectly arched eyebrows briefly furrowing as she touched her forehead with the three middle fingers of her hand then pulled her hand down and away, pinkie and thumb extended. Why?<\/em><\/p>\n

Crys laughed, crossing over to where The Hot Chick sat and ignoring the little thrill she got in her stomach when this was rewarded with another smile. “Deaf sibling,” she offered once she was in reasonable earshot, signing at the same time.<\/p>\n

“Ah.” The Hot Chick nodded. “I took lessons long ago. I am a little out of practice,” she added, the fluidity of her signing contradicting her spoken words.<\/p>\n

“Not that I’d be able to tell from here,” Crys replied, stilling her hands. “Anyway, apologies for staring.”<\/p>\n

The Hot Chick’s mouth quirked. “I am accustomed to distinctly less respectful stares,” she said. Taking her cue from Crys, she picked her coffee back up. “You doing so is… politely appreciative, so you may continue,” she added, with a wink.<\/p>\n

“Thanks, I think,” Crys chuckled, face pink. “I’d love to know your name, if you’re Disney with that. It feels kinda rude to keep referring to you as ‘The Hot Chick’ in my head.”<\/p>\n

The Hot Chick hastily put down her mug before collapsing into full-throated laughter. “Any name would seem terribly mundane compared to that, no?”<\/p>\n

“Yeah, probably, but I’d feel better about being, um, ‘politely appreciative,’ if I knew what it was. But I also get the appeal of leaving it a mystery.”<\/p>\n

“Hmm.” The Hot Chick pushed her hands through her hair, causing the smooth inky fall of it to cascade behind her shoulders rather than in front. “You may call me Ellie.”<\/p>\n

“Ellie,” Crys echoed thoughtfully. “It’s a lovely name, but I think you’re right. Not the same level of mystique.”<\/p>\n

“Not even close.”<\/p>\n

“I’d give you mine, but…” she shrugged, gesturing towards the name tag.<\/p>\n

“Indeed. An interesting variation on the ways I normally see that pronunciation spelled. Not short for Christine, then?”<\/p>\n

“Gods, no.” Crys snorted. “‘Chrysanthemum’ wouldn’t fit on the tag.”<\/p>\n

“That makes sense,” Ellie nodded. “Flower of Autumn Twilight. I knew another Chrysanthemum once. Though they went by Santhe instead.”<\/p>\n

“Yeah, people call me that too. As long as no one tries to call me Mum. Not remotely ready for that. Also not British enough.”<\/p>\n

“All valid arguments against doing so. I will do my best to avoid the temptation.” Ellie’s face was solemn but there were crinkles at the corners of her eyes as her hands quickly moved through seven rapid-fire signs. Nice to meet you, Crys.<\/em><\/p>\n

No u,<\/em> Crys signed back, which made them both laugh. “I suppose I’ll see you back here again at some point,” she added aloud, gathering Ellie’s empty mug and saucer as well as the abandoned half-full cup in front of her to bring back to the kitchen.<\/em><\/p>\n

“Not if I see you first.” Ellie smiled as she stood, playfully pointing at her own eyes with two fingers before swivelling her wrist to point at Crys. “I hope the rest of your shift is pleasantly easy.”<\/p>\n

“Thanks,” Crys murmured. She was unsure whether to interpret Ellie’s response as a promise or a threat, but found herself oddly thrilled by either possibility.<\/p>\n

\n

“D-8.”<\/p>\n

“Miss.” Tzella laced her fingers together, resting her chin atop the backs of her hands. “I-3.”<\/p>\n

Vin groaned, fishing a red peg out of the box next to him and stabbing it crossly in the center of his aircraft carrier, which was one peg short of fully sinking. They were only four turns in and Tzella had nailed this one ship with uncanny accuracy during each of hers. “Is there a secret demonic affinity for Battleship that I ought to have known about before talking you into a game?”<\/p>\n

She grinned, showing all of her teeth, and Vin sighed. “B-1.”<\/p>\n

“I did say you were going to hit something eventually.” She reached into the red half of the box of pegs, carefully inserting it into her tugboat while ignoring the slightly strangled noise of exasperation he was making deep in his throat. “J-3.”<\/p>\n

“Sunk.”<\/p>\n

Tzella cocked her head to the side. “You seem… off.”<\/p>\n

“I’m fine,” Vin replied without thinking, glancing up from his board in time to catch the quick quirk of a disbelieving eyebrow before she covered it. “I’m just not really looking forward to this week.”<\/p>\n

“Oh?”<\/p>\n

“Well for one thing I haven’t seen Carl since Super Bowl and I imagine when he comes back in to curse us all with having to work with him, there’s gonna be some kind of hell to pay for the stunt we pulled.”<\/p>\n

“Carl.” Her lip curled, baring a fang. “Was there a particular reason he gave you my candle?”<\/p>\n

He frowned, glancing over her shoulder at the innocuous looking white candle sitting in its glass holder. “I don’t think so? He just kinda pushed it into my hands one day at work, told me if I wanted some ‘company’ to cut my finger over it after lighting it, then winked and wished me a merry Christmas.”<\/p>\n

“Hmm.” Tzella glanced behind her. Spying the candle, she got up to examine it.<\/p>\n

“You’re not gonna find anything. It reverted to plain white and unburnt when you left that day.”<\/p>\n

“The transaction was completed. This also would have happened had it been completed the normal way.”<\/p>\n

“So if I light it again, nothing would happen?”<\/p>\n

“Not without recarving the summoning sigils into it.” She turned the glass sideways and tapped it against her hand, jarring the candle loose from the glass. “But magic often leaves behind residue when used.” She pulled out the candle, examining the bottom before wrapping one hand around the candle’s girth, closing her eyes.<\/p>\n

Vin swallowed hard, looking away as he felt the burning tingle in his shoulder. The spell wasn’t quite back to 100% yet, and watching Tzella’s fingers gently stroking the candle from bottom to tip was wildly<\/em> suggestive. “Um… find anything?”<\/p>\n

She replaced the candle in the glass and set it back down on the dresser, much to his relief. “Not much, which is somehow more worrying.”<\/p>\n

“Why’s that?”<\/p>\n

“This sort of spell is usually done inexpertly. Someone gets a hold of an obscure book and scrawls a haphazard facsimile of a sigil in said book into a candle with whatever implement they have on hand. Messy spells leave behind messy magical aftereffects.” She frowned. “Summoning candles do not generally return to the level of pristine they were before they were used, which means whoever made this knew what they were doing.”<\/p>\n

“Well that has troubling implications.”<\/p>\n

“That it does. Having met your associate, the idea of him mastering this sort of spell to this level is not a pleasant one. It also raises the question of why.”<\/p>\n

“The candles summon succubi. I would think ‘why’ would be obvious.”<\/p>\n

“You would. I do not think the obvious answer is correct in this case.”<\/p>\n

Vin groaned. “This is making my head hurt.”<\/p>\n

“Indeed.” Tzella sat back down. “It is still your turn.”<\/p>\n

“Um… C-1?”<\/p>\n

Tzella shook her head, frowning. “Carl is not the only thing bothering you.”<\/p>\n

“No, he isn’t.” Vin sighed. “It’s pretty stupid, and I don’t know why I’m so hung up on it.”<\/p>\n

Tzella tipped her head curiously.<\/p>\n

“Tuesday’s February fourteenth. Valentine’s Day,” he clarified at Tzella’s look of confusion.<\/p>\n

“And?”<\/p>\n

“I’m gonna be alone this year. Again.”<\/p>\n

“And you would rather not be?”<\/p>\n

“Well, not just that. I want someone to celebrate it with. You know, do the whole silly thing, flowers, chocolates…”<\/p>\n

“Promises you do not intend to keep?”<\/p>\n

Vin looked wounded. “I keep mine.”<\/p>\n

“I apologize, it was an old movie quote.”<\/p>\n

“I know, I’ve seen Beauty and the Beast<\/em> before. It’s not that <\/em>old.”<\/p>\n

“I suppose in the history of moving pictures, no it is not. Still.” Tzella smiled, a little sadly. “I take it the sort of company I could offer would not be sufficient?”<\/p>\n

Vin blushed, the memory of the one electric kiss he’d exchanged with her out on Big Boss’s deck rising unbidden. “Yeah, I… no.”<\/p>\n

“I suspected not. I thought I would offer anyway.”<\/p>\n

“That’s kind of you. Which feels like a weird way to respond to that sort of proposition.”<\/p>\n

She smiled, one shoulder lifting. “Unsurprisingly, I do not find it that weird. G-9.”<\/p>\n

“Finally, a miss for you.”<\/p>\n

“Had to happen at some point.” She looked up from her board, her eyes narrowing as she regarded him. “Tuesday, you said?”<\/p>\n

“Yes,” Vin answered slowly, a warning tingle rippling through his tattoo. “You look like you’re plotting something.”<\/p>\n

Tzella’s face instantly reverted to a blank guilelessness.<\/p>\n

“Nice try.” He shook his head. “For a demon, you have a shit poker face.”<\/p>\n

“Strangely enough, not the first time I have been told that. It has rather strongly discouraged me from investigating what poker exactly is aside from a card game that is mostly a vehicle for bluffing. Or an excuse to remove clothing.”<\/p>\n

“There’s not much beyond that to investigate, to be totally fair,” Vin chuckled.<\/p>\n

“Mmm.” Tzella pulled a white peg from the box and held it up to her face, appearing to consider the shape of it. “I will say this. If I were plotting a thing, know it is not anything embarrassing, mean or harmful. Though I understand if my word is not convincing,” she added wistfully, placing the peg into the board.<\/p>\n

“No, it is. I think we’ve been put through enough weird shit together for me to trust you.” he sighed, a tired smile nonetheless fighting its way onto his face. “Just… nothing too dramatic, okay? I mostly just want to spend the evening rotting my brain with either TV or video games until it’s over.”<\/p>\n

“Understood. Your turn.”<\/p>\n

“B2.”<\/p>\n

“Sunk.”\u00a0<\/p>\n

\n

“PECKER!”<\/p>\n

Even though Vin had fully expected something like this from the moment he arrived at work the next day, Carl’s voice echoing across the grounds made what felt like all of his internal organs contract with panic. “Fuck,” he groaned, tossing his shovel full of newly fallen snow off the edge of the fish canals.<\/p>\n

“Somebody’s in trouble,” Subramaniam chuckled from one canal over where he and Easton were also clearing snow from the area.<\/p>\n

“You have no idea,” Vin groaned before turning to face the angry parka charging at him. “Hi, Carl. Did you have a nice week off?”<\/p>\n

Carl stopped. “With me. Now.<\/em>“<\/p>\n

“He’s on shovels with the rest of us,” Easton protested, catching Vin’s gaze and widening her eyes questioningly.<\/p>\n

“Boss can spare Pecker for a few minutes. Besides y’all don’t need three people to shovel up here.”<\/p>\n

Vin sighed, shaking his head at Easton when he saw her gloves curling into fists. It’s fine,<\/em> he mouthed before raising his voice. “What do you want with me, anyway?”<\/p>\n

“A word.” Carl attempted to regain control of his face, managing a smile that looked more like a grimace. “If you don’t mind.”<\/p>\n

“Yeah, fuck it, we’re almost done anyway. Subramaniam, buddy, you mind stashing my shovel when y’all get back to the shop?”<\/p>\n

“No problem. Good luck.”<\/p>\n

That bit of business handled, Vin purposely turned his back to Easton’s concerned frown and fell into step with Carl as they headed down to the opposite end of the hatchery, where the woods surrounding the property started. “Taking me out to the woods to kill me, huh?” he joked weakly once out of earshot of the others.<\/p>\n

Carl snorted, but didn’t reply or stop walking. Vin’s face reflexively scrunched as a cold wind blew up from the south, which was unfortunately the direction of the morgue pit. While usually better in the winter especially after a snowstorm, the smell of rotting fish was strong<\/em> that day. Jameson had probably forgotten to toss lime into it over the weekend. “Is there a reason we’re headed to Corpse Corner?”<\/p>\n

“Pretty low chance of being followed. Besides, the smell is only an issue for you,” Carl smirked. “I’ve been anosmic since I was a kid.”<\/p>\n

“Explains your occasional cologne habits,” Vin muttered. He was already mentally calculating how many shots of Febreze it would take to get the stench out of his coat if they stayed long enough.<\/p>\n

“We’re not here to talk about me, though.” Carl smiled. It was a bit less grimacey than before, though no less nasty. “Tell me about the girl you showed up with. Zoe or whatever.”<\/p>\n

Vin shrugged, clenching his teeth. “We’re friends.”<\/p>\n

“Bullshit. I know what she is, Pecker. You deal with enough of them and you learn how to spot one. So how are you doing it?”<\/p>\n

Vin swallowed. “Doing what?”<\/p>\n

“You know<\/em>. Keeping her around.” Carl scrubbed an ungloved hand across his eyes, as the wind whipping into both their faces briefly intensified. “They don’t usually stay if given a choice.”<\/p>\n

“Keeping her… Carl, what the living fuck are you talking about?” Vin frowned, hoping it covered both the panicked knots his stomach was twisting itself into and the feigned ignorance. “Dude, I know you have a rock bottom opinion of women, but it is<\/em> possible for one to want to hang with you if you aren’t a total fucking asshole.”<\/p>\n

Carl’s expression was both frustrated and pitying. “Come on, Pecker, we both know your friend is no woman. That’s a goddamn demon. Joking aside, you can’t possibly be laying such good pipe that she’s coming back for more, so I want to know how you’ve chained her down.”<\/p>\n

“Wow<\/em>. That’s a new low, I think. Not only reducing things to cheap sex, but calling her names now? Is it because she isn’t one of your vapid cheerleader triplets?” Vin narrowed his eyes at the taller man, ignoring the anxious pins and needles feeling in both his legs as he made a few nasty connections in his head. “Or is it because she isn’t white?”<\/p>\n

Carl put up his hands. “Whoa. slow your roll, little man. I’m no racist.”<\/p>\n

“No, you’re just offensive to everyone. You know that’s not better, right?” Vin reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, helpfully blocking the wind and some of the smell with a puffy gloved hand. “Did you have something else to say aside from being your usual level of yourself? ‘Cause if not, I’m getting the fuck away from the wind and the stench. It’s bad today.”<\/p>\n

Carl huffed. “Fine, keep your secrets, Pecker, I don’t give a shit. A warning, though. Your so-called friend isn’t human, and she sure as fuck isn’t actually your friend. Don’t get attached.”<\/p>\n

Vin closed his eyes, counted to three, and let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. It made a rather impressive cloud of white steam before being carried off by the wind. “You done?”<\/p>\n

“For now.” Carl’s face was equal parts frustrated and calculating as he stared intently at Vin. Eventually he shrugged, making a sweeping motion with one hand. “Fuck on off. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”<\/p>\n

Vin staged a sarcastic bow before turning to trudge back up the hill to the top of the canals. He didn’t turn back to look, but he could almost feel Carl’s eyes boring holes into the back of his parka the entire walk up. Tzella, we need to talk,<\/em> he thought, before shaking his head. Silly to think she could hear him like that, except he had the very strong sense that she could<\/em>, if she happened to be listening. “I think we’re in fucking trouble,” he added out loud, more to himself than anything.<\/p>\n

There was no answer aside from the wind and snow-dampened silence.<\/p>\n

\n

Vin didn’t have much of a chance to stew about the conversation as the rest of the day turned out to require all hands on deck. Not only did the snow require clearing, there had been tree damage near the main building that needed to be dealt with, a jammed auger on one of the snowthrowers that required disassembly to fix, and in the middle of everything a frozen pipe burst in the back of the staff bathroom. He ended up staying an hour late helping to deal with the multiple emergencies, and by the time he slouched up the stairs to his studio, he could barely stay upright. He very nearly missed noticing the red envelope tucked carefully under his door when he got it open.\u00a0<\/p>\n

The envelope contained a $15 gift certificate to the coffeehouse around the corner that he’d never visited despite its proximity, as he found the vibe and the prices pretentious. There was also a note written in red ink.<\/p>\n

\n

Vin \u2014<\/p>\n

I know tomorrow will be difficult for you; perhaps a fancy coffee and snack will improve things a little? Do me the favor of at least trying before your planned evening of brainrot and video games.<\/p>\n

\u2014Tz<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n
\n
\n
\n

Amherst Coffeehouse and Cafe
4 Amity Street
Amherst, MA 01002
413.555.9212<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

STORE #020<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\n

CHK: 08764 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 02\/14\/2023 \u00a0 07:17 PM
DR: 282 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 REG: 1 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 EM: CRYS<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n
\n

Coffee Americano<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

$ 4.75<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\n
\n

Raspberry Scone<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

$ 3.50<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\n

XGIFTCERTIFICATE<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n
\n

SUBTOTAL
TAX
TIP
TOTAL CHARGE<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

$ 8.25
$ 0.52
$ 6.23
$15.00<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Really nice meeting you tonight! Let’s do that again.
(413) 555-2516<\/p>\n

\u2014 Crys \u2665<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

\n
\n\n\n

Related Posts<\/h3>
\"A<\/a><\/div>
Alterous Demonology<\/a><\/div><\/div>
\"a<\/a><\/div>
Shampoo & Coffee<\/a><\/div><\/div>
\"Stylized<\/a><\/div>
Vignettes: Notes<\/a><\/div><\/div>
\"stylized<\/a><\/div>
Moving the Goalposts<\/a><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>\n\n\n
\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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