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No, I'm not an extra life
A journal of a mental clone-thing-person

I don't know what the hell is up.

But if my actuators just happen to let go of a building like that in Rylie's presence again, I'm taking her with me.

Dammit all.

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I like Chicago. Huge, and it feels easier to blend in to me.

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This stinks.

I'm gonna haveta change my whole schtick.

I suck at this ._.


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It's probably never a good idea to leave someone restless when they've got the firm belief that they're currently a supervillian.

As such, Rylie's day? About to get interesting. And by interesting, I mean a lot worse. It starts off small, smashed teller machines all over her patrol route, to small stores having their entire cash registers stolen by a 'Spider-themed' chick!

Oh. Oh dear.

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Fuck. I'm restless.

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To sum this up.

I'm a short Asian chick now. I'm still gonna be a superheroish thing, with Ara and Rylie making my stuff.

Heh. Okay.

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