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~A sound of a finely tuned trans am pulls into the parking lot. A tall woman steps out letting her long black locks fall out of a clip. She looks arouns sliping on her ice blue glasess that cover her stary green eyes(that hipnoatize). She reaches into the back of the seat and pulls out a black letterman(with out the letter)putting it on to cover her losly fitting silver silk poet shirt. On the back of this jacket is two white wolves howling at the moon, on the lapel is a rose pin that matches Rev.Col.Castle's. Straped to her thighs (besides her bluejeans) are a pair of Blacken 45's. A pair of white nikes compleat the onsom. When she speaks it is with a heavy and I mean heavy scotish accent ((app3 but you deside)) |
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