Gatsberry's Admin
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I may be the youngest Marcello, but I'm the most stubborn.
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Post by Aria Marcello on Jul 20, 2017 8:04:39 GMT -6
Hurricane Clyde has hit early! Beatrice, Millicent, and Dean find shelter, quick!
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Rag-A-Muffin
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Oh... okay...
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Post by Millie Foster on Jul 21, 2017 0:09:44 GMT -6
She huddled her arms close to her chest, trying to trudge her way through the storm. Each raindrop feeling like needles piercing at her face. The country girl had experienced storms back home, but not as bad as the one that she was smack-dab in the middle of. Millie needed to find shelter as soon as she could. At the moment, she was so far away from the hotel that there was no possible way for her to make it back before being swept away by the fast winds. Her felt cap blew off of her head, revealing Charlotte's new haircut.
She wiped her face, but it was no use as the water kept pouring and pouring. Some of the street lamps were trembling. The redhead maneuvered the best that she could in the tempest. The only thing that was on her mind at the moment was her survival. She bowed her head, silently praying to whoever would listen for guidance and her life.
She turned towards the nearest building and slammed the door behind her, trying to keep the water out. The police station... Millie thought to herself, perhaps someone is here to help...
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Rag-A-Muffin
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Sad to be all alone in the world...
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Post by Beatrice Harris on Aug 2, 2017 21:43:02 GMT -6
Beatrice sighed as she trudged through the oncoming rains. The hurricane wasn't supposed to have come until the following week if she had remembered correctly. It had been a while since she had last read the papers. After all, she had two businesses to run and barely any time to indulge in such matters. In situations like this, Ms. Harris would normally be safe in the basement of her hotel, but she had a few errands to run in order to further protect her guests from the wind and rain. Her cane hit the thin layer of water that was covering the sidewalk, making an audible splashing sound. The only other sounds that masked it were the murmuring of people on the streets and one crack of lightning. The woman turned to the closest building for shelter.
The police station... of all the places that could harbor me, it had to be the police station... The old woman internally lamented and sighed. She placed her cane against the coat rack and sat down.
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