[for the second time in a week, there is one (1) gilbert(ine) nightray on your screens. she looks - flustered, on her bed. she's panting, cheeks flushed red, hair dishevelled, frantic. the screen cuts off at her chest, and there's a knee somewhere there, raised leg and all.]
O-oh damn it -
Sir Dominic Sorel? Dominic - I-I need t-to speak to you
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[For a price of course.]
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W-what kind o-of help, you stu -
[it jumps. gilbert shrieks like a little girl.]
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Just remember you owe me a favor, and I'll come help you.
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I d-d-don't -
[it mewls. she scrambles up the pillows, terrified.]
Fine! Hurry up!
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Where's the cat?
[She looks around to see it...oh okay...]
Should I send the dog on her?
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Hog Dog comes quickly next to her until he eyes the cat. There may be a mess of dog chasing cat soon.]
Come on you dog, go get that cat!
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Not before the cat tries to find someone to escape to, Gilbert :>.]
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FML
FML
she shrieks again, high enough to probably shatter some windowpanes oh god because the kitten has scrambled up the bed and was now digging little claws into her chest and aaaaaahhhhhhskadhsa;kh;fa]
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Grabbing the cat she will try to tug her off of you.]
Get off, DON'T MAKE ME CALL FOR CHESHIRE ON YOU!
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gilbert's still frozen solid to the headboard, cold sweat running down her back.]
Ch-ch-cheshire's here?!
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[She answers as a matter of factly before booting the kitty out, her dog chasing after it.]
He wants to see me after all, he's always around.
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Is that - he - living here?
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Break...that stupid Clown.
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Ugh, I swear, if that c-cat is his -
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