[ she notices his hand, but doesn't say anything. perhaps she likes it a little too much, or perhaps she's thankful for the physical anchor. she doesn't know why she chose this story — but she certainly knows why she left parts of it out. it's too long, too dense, and involves too much remembering to not use their names, although, she's quite certain spike knows who these characters are. she much likes that he plays along with her. ]
Well, after giving the bloke with the bowtie some CPR, he and the kissogramme happened along a very strange, little girl. She was very strange, glaring into the distance, sort of robotic, not blinking. The bloke with the bowtie found this out with his son—er, yeah, sonic screwdriver that she wasn't all human. After shutting her down, they found a fancy, out-of-order elevator. Inside was a wormhole into the spaceship of the aliens who had planted the boxes like seeds all around the globe.
Of course, they walked into it. How could anyone resist such a looking glass?
And inside was the spaceship, a sort of dark looking interior, very depressing. They found the nurse there, and his father, too, I forgot to mention his father had been kidnapped along with a few others by these aliens. But that's not as important as finding out that these aliens were meant to be of myth. They were sort of like cleaners, wanting to wipe out all of humanity most likely for the reasons I stated before — poor music, poor fashion styles, poor haircuts — but the bloke with the bowtie reversed the heart attacks after having a bit of a verbal tango the kissogramme didn't quite follow.
Everyone was revived, waking up from where they had fallen as if they'd merely tripped. It was quite fascinating, the fact that you could die from a heart attack, the most vulnerable organ you have, and simply wake up and walk again.
But it's not as simple as that. Nothing ever is, is it? As the bloke with the bowtie reversed the work of these pest controlling aliens, the ship was going to blow. Would our trio of heroes make it out safely? [ she pats his fingers, her own lifting slightly, the palm of her hand staying flat against the stone they're sitting upon. ] Perhaps that's a story for another time, dear friend. Or perhaps the one where the kissogramme accidentally married Henry the Eighth.
[ she grins, but doesn't make much of an effort to try and catch his gaze this time. ] I can't reveal all of my stories, or else you'd have nothing else left to ask of me.
kisses you all over your face
Well, after giving the bloke with the bowtie some CPR, he and the kissogramme happened along a very strange, little girl. She was very strange, glaring into the distance, sort of robotic, not blinking. The bloke with the bowtie found this out with his son—er, yeah, sonic screwdriver that she wasn't all human. After shutting her down, they found a fancy, out-of-order elevator. Inside was a wormhole into the spaceship of the aliens who had planted the boxes like seeds all around the globe.
Of course, they walked into it. How could anyone resist such a looking glass?
And inside was the spaceship, a sort of dark looking interior, very depressing. They found the nurse there, and his father, too, I forgot to mention his father had been kidnapped along with a few others by these aliens. But that's not as important as finding out that these aliens were meant to be of myth. They were sort of like cleaners, wanting to wipe out all of humanity most likely for the reasons I stated before — poor music, poor fashion styles, poor haircuts — but the bloke with the bowtie reversed the heart attacks after having a bit of a verbal tango the kissogramme didn't quite follow.
Everyone was revived, waking up from where they had fallen as if they'd merely tripped. It was quite fascinating, the fact that you could die from a heart attack, the most vulnerable organ you have, and simply wake up and walk again.
But it's not as simple as that. Nothing ever is, is it? As the bloke with the bowtie reversed the work of these pest controlling aliens, the ship was going to blow. Would our trio of heroes make it out safely? [ she pats his fingers, her own lifting slightly, the palm of her hand staying flat against the stone they're sitting upon. ] Perhaps that's a story for another time, dear friend. Or perhaps the one where the kissogramme accidentally married Henry the Eighth.
[ she grins, but doesn't make much of an effort to try and catch his gaze this time. ] I can't reveal all of my stories, or else you'd have nothing else left to ask of me.