Ambrose
Amelie sat on her bed while she was on her phone. Her fingers twitched a little while they laid idle on its smooth screen. Margo seemed like a delightful girl, rather well spoken for somebody from here. Unlike that boy, ugh, Amelie didn't even want to think of that vile egomaniacal child. 
Her day was much better off conversing with Margo, Whom again she found was lovely despite the rather violent things she has heard Margo do. Her dorm lay empty on one side, her roommate had yet not arrived, which is peculiar but they seem to be rather well off without Amelie so she doesn't pester them. 

Amelie sits up upon her bed before grabbing her wheelchair. The wheelchair is drugged around much like a toy somewhat across the room before it settles in front of Amelie's bed facing the unfortunate girl. Amelie sucked in a little breath before lifting herself off her bed and settling herself down upon the wheelchair with slightly shaking arms. Bone moved violently underneath her arms like snakes sending a shock of pain into Amelie's body. Amelie hisses while moving her legs from her bed to the wheelchair, they've been useless for almost half a year now. Ah, how the days fly. 

Amelie uses her thin arms to move her wheelchair from her bed to the middle of her room. She turns her wheelchair to her dorm, opening it. She takes her beloved leather jacket with her as she moves out. There was a light cool breeze within the hallway as she exited her dorm, closing the door behind her with a soft click. It was a rather spacious hallway, a good convenience for the girl. Amelie exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding before moving down the hallway of the third floor.

.

Amelie noticed an open door, just like Margo said. Light pouring through the doorway like a curtain. It looked rather gentle how the rays settled upon the floor. Amelie raised an arm, nervous, the arm looking like it was having a violent cramp. Bones moving like lightning under abused skin, her hand twitching like it was straight out a slasher film before settling on the door frame. Amelie knocked on the frame, she pushed herself forward leaning her head into the bulb-lit room. 


"Buna ziua?"


She asked hello in Romanian. Her thick accent dripped delightfully down the words spoken like a ganache to a small cake. She looked into the room with her one eye, noticing a girl within the room. Margo perhaps? Or she was just embarrassing herself. Nervousness punctured the poor girl. Pinkish bones plunging themselves outward from the bandages on her left side. Blood slipping down from the openings the bones had created, staining the bandages.
Oscar
[Day... Seventeen?]

◇ The days simultaneously flew by atop rockets and slogged on as if stuck in a bog in such a place, but at least now she'd have company.

□ Still silently uncertain about how to feel over being referred to so formally as feminine, Margo had otherwise grown to appreciate Amelie's presence in the group chat, seeing her as another educated, well-off soul, the kind of mutual recognition that dripped heavy with the stink of elitism. Whatever the case, as the moments passed between her acquaintance letting her know she'd be coming by she'd set off grabbing a selection of her favourite titles, a broad collection of non-fiction, textbooks and religious texts and everything in-between.

▪︎ That, and she was brewing up some of her finest tea. As far as she could remember, Amelie liked tea.

★ And the knock came, feeble and barely audible over the comfortably-set volume of her turntable.

◆ "Hey, welcome to my little corner of... *Oblivion.*" She awkwardly crooned as she turned to face the door, her bandaged hands pressed flat against her desk. Dressed simply, she had on an oversized Evangelion Garfield shirt, striped baggy corduroy pants, and Elmo socks, and her hair found itself tied into a loose low ponytail. "Come on in, get comfy, got some tea brewing right now. Hope the place was easy enough to find...'
Ambrose
Amelie wavered by the doorway before leaning back and wheeling herself into the rather nice room. There was a furrowed brow plastered onto her head with a heavy frown while she did so. It eventually evened out to a neutral stare while she looked around the room. It looked quite nice! Her gaze stopped on the lizard which was lovingly named Cosmo for which his head was ever expansive but empty, which rang true as he looked at a wall with what looked like interest but, he looked like he was pressing himself into the glass. Amelie found it quite charming.

Amelie hummed shifting in her leather jacket. Which she'd suddenly remembered that Amelie had indeed been spoken to. There was soft curse of German as she cringed a little before looking at Margo. The crescendo of lights usually in ones iris barren within Amelie's brown gaze. Margo was, dressed, that's all she could say. Margo's sense of fashion was atrocious but, this was essentially and hopefully her first friend here so she'll brush aside the fact that Margo looked like Picasso seized while painting, oddly endearing she might say. 

"Oh! Thank you."
Amelie instantly replied after a moment, how embarrassing for the girl. Though her neutral look returned so did the bones. She was feeling a little out of place during her moment of ignorance.

"You vere very easy to find. I'm not fully blind after all. I think you little corner is quite charming, Ms. Killjoy. Tea? Vunderbar!"
The heavy German accent rang though every word she said. Amelie wasn't completely sure that Margo liked the formal wording but Amelie found it wrong not to do so. It was an energetic language to say the least. Amelie's low ponytail rested over her right shoulder as she turned to Margo, she laid back in her wheelchair. 

"Vut, also I'm afraid this is as comfortable as I get."
A light airy tone taking her voice as she spoke, a simple jest.
Oscar
◆ "No worries."

□ Watching as Amelie cautiously wheeled herself into the room, she also kept an eye on the kettle, a thermometer awkwardly hanging out of the spout. A bit of an odd thing to see, but oh well. Noticing a soft undulating pulse beneath the wheelchair-bound gal's leather jacket she winced lightly, left corner of her lip curling for just a moment before she reached out and switched off her hotplate. With the tea now ready she began to pour two cups, dropping them into antique porcelain cups atop matching porcelain saucers, and once the cups were ready she set the kettle back atop the hotplate.

▪︎ Better to keep it there than to possibly damage her desk.

◆ "Oh, it's... Charming? Cool." She awkwardly stumbled over her words, already feeling the all-too-familiar tingle of embarrassment welling in the base of her neck. "It's really just my life condensed into half a dorm room, I guess. The sofa's new; believe it or not, most rooms don't come with an IKEA loveseat." She chuckled. "Anyways, tea's cooling down as we speak. Hope you like, uh... Darjeeling green, from Nepal. It's a specialty I order from time to time; expensive, but so worth it. Anyways... Sick jacket."
Ambrose
"Delightful."

Amelie wasn't looking at the rather haphazard kettle but, at Margo. The Wheelchair bound girl caught the unfortunate wince, and Amelie's stare became slightly colder. She hated winces sent in her direction, how much would it take to say she's fine and convince them of a lie? Everything. So Amelie laid further into the leather of her wheelchair with a soft hiss. The girl watched the tea on the table, the vapour of the slight steam giving to it's soft flowery sent which actually made the girls gaze soften. 

Amelie regarded Margo with a rather stiff nod while she watched the tea. It piqued her interest since she doesn't think she has had this before. 

"Oh I'd know but, it would be much less an inconvenience if it did. But, I'm not a wizard or there would be the exact same thing in the middle of my dorm."
Amelie spoke with a slight sarcasm tainting her words. Though it would make her dorm room seem a lot more pleasant, she'll see to that much later though. 


Amelie was right she'd never heard of this tea before, her brow raised slightly at the name. Perhaps it would taste as good as it smelt. Yet, Amelie's furrowed when Margo regarded her jacket but, quickly became neutral once more. 

"This jacket? It's something I vill never let go. Vhat dosent help is that I actually got it signed by the Storm Child themselves. They picked me up by the jacket and signed it while in the middle of a concert. I ended up getting put into the Vip section after." Amelie spoke with fondness, her lips twitched upward to a small smile before settling back. That was a wild time. The storm child was an utter delight. 

" This tea smells amazing by the way. It's certainly sounding worth it vut I wouldn't want you to waste it . Vut, I suppose I should've said that sooner." Margo really didn't have to make it. A small ounce of guilt punctured Amelie's poor mind.
Oscar
◆ "Yeah." The sarcasm bounced directly off of her speckled noggin, clearly. "Then again, I'm lucky, I guess. Uri's rarely here, so most of the space is mine."

□ Noticing the cold gaze, she felt as if she'd dissolve into nothingness. She wasn't even sure what she'd done, at least not at first, and by the time she chained together the string of occurrences into a cohesive narrative it was too late to apologize. So, instead she plopped herself down on the armrest of her sofa, crossing her legs in the sort of way that only someone of her pedigree would have been forced to. A seat beneath her, she looked over at Amelie, mixed eyes peering at the other's face, at what features were visible beneath the bandaging, and she thought also of how it reminded her of her own arms, almost always wrapped in gauze.

▪︎ She wasn't sure if it was a style thing at this point, but her hands and arms felt naked otherwise, so who was she to argue with something that maybe took ten minutes to do?

◆ "Storm Child...? Never heard of them. Musician from Germany?" A fair guess, albeit one cautioned with hesitant wording. "Either way, man, sounds pretty slick. Did they just... Pick you up by the collar, or did they not literally pick you up? Also, huh. No worries, it was just a nicety. Not enough of a dick to have guests over and not just... You know, offer some tea."
Ambrose
"Oh, yes. Uriel seems to always be with that boy."
 Amelie pauses and then snaps her bandaged fingers and points at Margo. "Owen." She drawls her accent causing the name to roll off in a way it's not meant to be said but, only due to her accent. "They always seem to be with Owen." 

Amelie's entire body is covered in bandages, some with varying degrees of blood soaked into them. I'd Margo noticed the bandages on her left side moved slightly, a bone peaking through the wraps. It didn't help much but it covered what was more grotesque to process. Unlike Margo it wasn't style but necessity. Amelie's ring finger of her right hand wormed under the bandage's of her left slightly, feeling the raw scarred skin under, still fresh. 

"Yes. Storm child is. They're quite lovely. I had quite the crush on them for a moment." Amelie described, it was true they were a favorite of hers. 
"They actually picked me up by the collar, which is frankly quite easy." Another fact, with everything going on she was quite light. Which is a thought that made the finger that wormed under her bandages twitch. 

"OH! You aren't, I'm sorry! You're actually extremely pleasant." Amelie stumbles over her words and curses in German. "I got into my own head."
After a long moment Amelie pursed her lips at Margo's shirt. A question forming inside her head. 
"What do you enjoy? Also do you like this... E-Van-gelio?"
Oscar
◆ "Yeah, him." She confirmed with a nod. "They're always off with him... Oh well. Helps with the whole getting used to life here thing, I guess."

□ Rather than drag down the conversation with confessional complaints over her living situation and where she believed she should have been, she instead let out a hum and fixed her stare on the wall. It was a natural habit, one borne from an unexplained aversion to eye contact she'd felt for years, and it was one she hoped wouldn't insult Amelie in any way worse than her unintended micro-wince. "I see." She spoke. "Celebrity crushes are always kinda sad. They're one-sided, yet you can't help but look at the person and feel your entire body light up in emotions you didn't know you could feel. Honestly, it kinda scares me, but... In a good way. That weird?"

▪︎ "Anyway..." She rubbed the back of her neck, scratching an itch under her hair. "Yeah, I like Evangelion. Couldn't explain half of what it fucking means, man, but I like it anyways. I also enjoy non-fiction and comic books – kind of an oxymoron, but fuck it – , martial arts, meditation, shitty reality television, tea, certain animated shows, and fishing. Also girls; a true vice. You?"
Ambrose
"Quite odd if I have any say. But, I don't so I just watch them both in ze chat."
She waves her right hand in a shooing motion. It really isn't any of her business but they are obnoxiously loud about it. Perhaps they can tone it down but Amelie doubts they can. 

Amelie narrowed her eye slightly at the aversion of eye contact. She knows Margo has a weird thing going on with her eye, Amelie dosent necessarily see the problem with the eye but, she wasn't the one with it. Amelie shrugs it off turning to the tea that sat on the table. She listened but her interest was currently in a tea that she wasn't even touching. "They are but, it was nice. They're a nice person and I think they enjoyed my company. That crush dosent exist anymore though. It's scary when you don't know and it's weird but it's nice." Amelie furrowed her brow and let out a snort. "No its not weird, gnädige Frau."

"Odd. I'll take your word for it." 
Amelie turned back to Margo with a raised brow. 
"I enjoy all types of books, as long as they're well written. I enjoyed dancing and I have a large following because of my violin playing. Girls are nice, yes. They're very pretty."
Amelie tapped her chin, looking at a wall past Margo. She pursed her lips trying to remember something before giving up with a sigh.
 I haven't watched that many shows. Care to tell me about some?"
Oscar
◆ "Can't blame ya. Probably not worth digging your nose into; some sort of low-key yet known gay romance, whatever it is."

□ Shrugging, she kept her gaze fixed on the wall, humming a tune for a few moments. Maybe it *Was* A tad weird that Uri seemed to spend their sparse waking moments around that Owen lad, but perhaps it was just a romance that was left open for everyone to see. Whatever. Hopping off the armrest of the couch she somewhat clumsily made her way to the teacups, grabbing one and it's accompanying saucer before flopping back down on the couch.

▪︎ About as graceful as a newborn foal.

◆ "Fair enough." She spoke, taking that first nervous sip of tea and having her entire face light up in happiness. What a delicious cup... "Anyways, pretty slick. Reading's such a nice hobby, even if it's just staring at slices of dead tree and hallucinating for a while. Who's your favourite author?" Perhaps a bit awkwardly spoken, she set her cup down onto its saucer. "Also, shows...? I mean. I watch a lot of shitty reality television to mock it, but then there's also The Owl House, which is, uh..."

• And, if uninterrupted, Margo would spend the next roughly ten minutes dumping any and every thought and feeling she had about this one particular show. What a dork.
Ambrose
"I have no idea, is it weird to say that I think everyone knows about it."

Amelie watches as Margo lays on the couch as if she has broken bones. Surprising to Amelie is that no tea actually fell from the cup. Balance is key she supposes. Amelie took her own cup soon after looking at it with a raised brow. 

After a taste of her own Amelie's face softens dramatically. From a penchant almost scowl to something closer to a faint smile. "Realist." She scoffs. "Katy rose pool at ze moment. Her book is Wonderful." Amelie's brow dipped in worry at the awkward tone. 

"Oh please continue about this Owl house, Ms. Killjoy. Or anything you're interested in It sounds nice."
Amelie spoke softly taking another sip of the rather nice beverage. Amelie dosent mind people going on tangents it's always nice to listen to.
Oscar
◆ "I think you're right." She hummed. "Then again, romance... Not much to hide, is there? Aside from what goes on in bed; no need to broadcast that shit to everyone in earshot."

□ Speaking with a distinctly stilted accented rumble, she took another sip, this one a bit braver than the last, and possibly it was because she'd seen Amelie sip her own tea, and how she'd seemed to enjoy it. Maybe she'd just misunderstood or misread her friend's expression, but whatever the case she just hoped that her tea wasn't secretly an affront to the other's tongue. In the midst of that train of thought, an author's name bounced off her skull – *"Katy Pool...? Can't say I've heard of her."* She'd respond in turn – and then she set off rambling about her own interests, excitedly rambling end over end, tangent over tangent, for ten whole minutes at least before she realized that she'd been just chattering for no real reason.

▪︎ Surely others did this, right?

◆ "Shit, uh... Lost my train of thought. Sorry about just rambling, I do love to do that, I guess." She shrugged. For as long as she could remember, she'd been the type to fall impossibly deep into anything she did get interested in, so it didn't even raise any alarms when she went on tangents like that. "Anyways, how's the, erm... The tea?"
Ambrose
"There's nothing really to hide except things from eachother, is there not?" Amelie responds the words have a bitter taste leaving her throat. Which in kind Amelie coughs lightly into her hand. 


The tea tasted absolutely maddening but... In a good way. The musky yet sweet tasting tea is absolutely something Amelie has never had before. She really needs to ask where Margo got it from but, would that be too much of an inconvenience? Amelie's expression twists out of anxiety before she takes a sip of tea once more. She's thinking too much over tea. 

"That's because she's a German author." Amelie says before Margo goes on a tangent about this show that has piqued her interest. Amelie listened to every word yet connected none of it. It was nice to listen to but Amelie understood no word of what Margo was saying. There was just a blank stare and a small awkward smile as she listened. 

"Oh you're quite fine. I love to listen." Amelie said hoping Margo didn't catch on that Amelie got lost upon the second word. It sounded like a nice book that she'd listen to. Amelie eye flickered to her tea then to Margo. 
"The tea is simply divine, Ms. Killjoy. I do not understand where you'd get such a delicacy."
Oscar
◆ "Guess so." Margo shrugged. "But at the same time, I dunno, there's no sense in being a fuckin' liar. Nobody likes someone who can't say two words without one of them being bullshit."

□ Grumbling into her cup of tea, she took another sip as Amelie coughed into her hand. What was it about people that made them so prone to lying and cheating? Maddening as the thought was, she couldn't lie to herself and claim to understand why people weren't just honest with each other, and just that thought made her want to rip the hair from her scalp in bloody mats, skin and all. Instead of getting worked up, though, she looked back at Amelie, who was talking about her favourite author, and with an attentive yet perennially tired look she listened.

▪︎ Good thing she had got a grip on her own blabbering; surely nobody wanted to hear a regular old teenager ramble about a show for kids.

◆ "But, I don't understand why I just... Feel the need to ramble about the shows I'm into, you know?" Uncertaintly laced her voice. "Like, I just get into these vivid states, and it's like the words are running from a fire, and they get caught in my mouth and I have to spit 'em out somehow. I dunno. It's *Weird.* Anyways, it's a site online, they mostly deal with looseleaf teas right from places like Nepal, India, China, and Japan. Also there's some African ones on there and I'm... Tempted to try some."
Ambrose
"There is little sense in it. Scheiße. It's sad." Amelie sighs. "Sometimes the truth hurts. But, we must all come to terms with it... No?" 
This was more of a question for herself. Amelie's eyes grew to have a far away look within them. But, there was a fond glint in her eye that looked far too old for someone of her age. 

Amelie's ears perked hearing Margo's grumbling within her cup. It was truly a thought that led to insanity, how the mind works... You could know everything about it yet never predict what a person says despite pouring everything into trying. It's all so sad. 
 Amelie's face scrunches up much like a cat while she thinks more onto the subject. She mumbles how the thought is a waste of her time before she looks back to her tea. 

Amelie needs to stop spacing off less she be pulled into a black hole of guilt. Amelie rubbed her temple with her free hand then slid it down the right side of her face. She placed her right hand onto the cup and just held it delicately with both hands. She was truly going to go mad one of these days. 

"Don't be ashamed of it. I actually like it when folk seem to dump all they know about a show to me. Gods, I believe it's as entertaining as it is interesting. It's not boring at all." Amelie said with a light chuckle. 
"Oh? It's a sight online? Also, the African teas I can get you myself. It's the least I can do for letting me have your company." She ended her sentence with a light smile. Odd yet very good company, Margo was. A friend possibly a good one in Amelie's messed up book.
Oscar
◆ "Exactly."

□ Nodding, she wasn't exactly sure if she understood what Amelie said in full, having tuned part of it out as an intrusive thought about one of her shows poked into her skull at an inopportune time. Taking another sip of her tea she let herself sink into the couch, its freshly manufactured seats primed to give way to any great weight. 

◆ "Yeah, but at the same time, I don't see people doing it usually. I mean, I have an online friend who does it, but they're autistic, so that's why they do it." [Writer's note, Margo must be stupid as hell to not piece this together.] "Shit, you'd buy me tea? I mean... Maybe some rooibos. I'm out right now. But don't spend too much on me, man, I've got literal billions in my family."

▪︎ A bit of an odd brag, but... Oh well.
Ambrose
Amelie's mouth twitches into a smile. The fragile girl took a drink of her tea letting it fracture her empty features into something more soft. The couch did look particularly nice but, Amelie wasn't about to ruin it with the blood that was currently soaking into rather fresh bandages. A faint iron sent wafted into her nose and she purses her lips thinking on what to say next. 


Upon hearing the first part of Margo's sentence Amelie gives her a raised brow.
 "Similarities give way to friendship, no?"
Amelie says returning to her cup. Amelie stops before she can take another sip of the tea. She nods carefully, any fast jerky motions may agitate the wounds on her neck. 
"Oh that dosent matter. I just like to give my friends." 
Amelie waves off Margo's subtle warning now finally taking another tentative sip of her tea. 

Truly the money dosent fly far sometimes. Amelie has too much just for herself and she's just been trying to find ways to spend it other than for useless things. She hums looking into her cup. 


"That's nice to know. But, I won't ask of anything. I'll get some of that Rooibos."
Amelie adds.
Oscar
◆ "Yeah, maybe." Margo shrugged, though her mind immediately veered to other similarities that had brought them close. But, at the same time... "Wait. What are you insinuating with that?"

□ Was Amelie suggesting that maybe, by some stroke of weirdness, she was autistic and undiagnosed? She'd never even considered it, and the mere idea seemed wrong, so she quickly slid it out of sight and took another sip of her tea. The bond between herself and ol' Cinder was one built on kung fu flicks and fishing, not some shared mental illness, dammit. Looking back up at Amelie, she set her cup into her saucer and nodded.

▪︎ Another rich girl, huh...? Solidarity.

◆ "Seriously, just don't... Y'know. Blow like a hundred bucks. Some of their teas are that expensive, but they also sell it in bulk, so..." She'd learned that last bit the hard way, when she'd ordered tea expecting enough for maybe twenty bags and been hit with enough tea for at least an entire year. "Just lemme know when it's in, I guess."
Ambrose
"Similar interests!" 
Amelie corrected herself. 
"Perhaps you both have similar interests." 
Amelie shrugged. It was odd to think that Margo had no friends before. She certainly seems like the person to have many good friends. Or was Amelie's judgement of Margo false. It can't really be. 

Yes Amelie was rich beyond her reason due to unfortunate circumstance. It was all something the girl was all too willing to keep hidden under vauge insinuations and distractions. 

"You must know I'm more than willing to spend that much." 
Amelie will be careful to heed Margo's warning. She wouldn't want to accidentally flood the cradle full of tea. Though it would be oddly funny. 

"That much I can promise you, Ms. Killjoy." 
Amelie smiled to herself. She tapped her fingers on the side of her cup.

"Do you mind if I stay for at least a moment or two longer? We don't have to talk if you wish. I just desire company."
Amelie says.
Oscar
◆ "Gotcha." Figuring it was easier to just accept whatever Amelie said at face value as truth, she let out a sigh. "I'd say we do. That's kinda how we connected at first... Kung fu flicks and talking about fishing reels and stuff."

□ There was no way she'd have forgotten how her and her internet friends had met, or at least the two of them she had. Mutual interests ran deep, it seemed, and it kept the pair together over the past year or so. The thought, however, was fleeting, as her attention was drawn towards the other gal talking about how she'd apparently found herself sitting on a king's fortune. Oh, how she knew that feeling, even though she was dead certain she had no place in her father's inheritance by this point; perhaps, then, she shouldn't have attempted to murder him. Whatever. She quietly scoffed at the thought, then cleared her throat.

▪︎ Whoops.

◆ "Sorry, not scoffing at you." She pre-emptively cleared the air. "Just... Thinking about how I could have been a billionaire in a few weeks or a few decades from my father's wealth, but how I don't want a cent of his ill-gotten gains. Anyways. I guess just let me know when it comes in, man." She hummed. "Stay as long as you want. You're pleasant company to have around. Your roommate move in yet? That... Jester. I envy you a little, you know? June's crazy pretty and my gay heart wouldn't be able to stand living with them, but at the same time I still envy you. I dunno."
Ambrose
"Ah that sounds wonderful." Amelie sighs. Amelie really should start being more honest with them, rather than going mental gymnastics on how to avoid directly calling out her own actions. "Fishing sounds rather nice. I haven't been able to do fishing but, rather see beautiful rivers." 
She can actually barely remember but, with Tejal she has. 

Amelie had no online friends. She only had one true friend since she was about twelve. But, now no longer she had that friend due to unfortunate circumstances. Amelie's face withers as she contemplates it all. Life moved far too fast for Amelie to pace. And before long it crumbled how it was meant to be. Amelie herself slowly crumbles. Her body her mind growing silent. Bone curls through bandages rapidly creating an almost porcupine look to the girl. An ocean too violent for just a frail girl like her, for she will never see a clear sky again in her eyes. A rough clear to Margo's throat caught Amelie's mind from shutting itself too far within her own head, which admittedly she does frequently much to Amelie's despair. 

Amelie nods a little too hard hissing at a jolt of pain that comes through. Amelie rubs at the bandages around her neck mulling over Margo's words. 
"Yes I heard about that story. I do not blame you for what you've done at all. Your judgment is good in my eye."
Amelie raises her brow slightly while still rubbing at her neck. The opioids she took dulled most of the pain but some still shines through like a star. Her left hand was still holding her cup but she set it down on the table to leave her left in her lap. 
"Thank you. June? Ah, they have not come in yet. Frankly I do not blame them for taking the time they need. If you want I could ask June to talk to you, if they show that is."
Amelie says with a smile. Always the first to try to help, in her own odd way. That's all she really knew was to care for others and damn if she stop now.
Oscar
◆ "Yeah, that's the thing." Margo sighed. "I basically threw away my free ride. I don't regret it now, but what of five years down the road? When I'm in university and the debts are piling up? I just wish he would have fucking flatlined, man; that way he couldn't have wrote me out of his will."

□ Perhaps grim, but it was the truth of how she felt. She'd never liked being set for life, but at the same time she was no fool; enacting her revenge on her father for years of neglect and abuse had been necessary and inevitable, but that pit in her stomach told her that she'd made a mistake with far-reaching consequences, of which imprisonment was on the mild end. What was her future holding from her? What would she be dealing with in twenty years, in the aftermath of her father's natural death? Would she even outlive him? Part of her hoped not. It would be the ultimate heartbreak, a last hurrah to a lifetime of mutual trauma infliction and hatred.

▪︎ Fucked up, but...

◆ "Ah." Margo briefly replied, adjusting how her crossed leg sat momentarily. "Also, honestly? Don't. I'd... Have a difficult time talking to them without just asking them to kiss me violently. But, thanks... Yeah. Appreciate the offer."
Ambrose
"I can understand that." 
Amelie says. "If you don't mind me saying but I certainly don't like your father. I'll help out when I can Margo. You have my word."

Amelie looked at Margo, truly grim. Amelie shared some of the mentality. She has no right to wish for what once was, because there was truly nothing for her. But, that was for another time. There was a friend here who possibly needed company. Amelie would do everything she could to at least deliver some comfort to others. Gods know they all needed it. Amelie hoped she'd see Margo after the cradle, sometimes it's just hopeful thinking though. 

Amelie snorted and laughed which soon turned into a nasty cough. She cleared her throat and with a strained smile looks at Margo. 
"I understand Ms. Killjoy. It was a joke but at least I now know this."
Amelie's hand on her neck was removed Amelie looking at for a moment making sure there was no blood. Amelie brushed hair out of her only eye that moved from her rather unladylike laugh. 
"You're hopelessly romantic arnt you?"
Amelie said with a small smile, less strained.
Oscar
◆ "Fuck no, I don't." Margo laughed. "I'd sooner plunge a knife in his neck and lay him in the ground with garlic around his neck than willingly face him eye-to-eye. But... I guess you know that."

□ Truthfully, her hatred ran far deeper, sputtered out with infinitely more vitriol after a few drinks, completely riddled her with anger. But, this wasn't the space to get patricidal, and so she decided to simply let it go for now, until she was alone in the gym with the punching bag staring her down. Looking over at Amelie again, her expression was one of mild concern, understandably so since the sickly lass had just coughed a lung up.

▪︎ What a life it must have been...

◆ "Hopelessly for sure. Dating as a trans person is... Tricky, let's just say." Even though she didn't date guys she had still experienced quite a bit of trouble and transphobia on her dating adventures. "Also, shit man, you okay? Sounds like your lung just tried to leave through your mouth, Christ."
Ambrose
"I would've done the same thing to both of my parents respectively, if I was strong enough." Amelie added. "I do know that and you're in the right in my opinion."

Amelie's life was a mess and would continue to be a mess continuously rolling downhill to put it simply. If she could do anything she would but, now she's just a shell of who she once was. Too fragile to do anything despite her saying she was stronger than she looked. To be honest she was far weaker, it was and will continue to be an honest struggle Amelie isn't sure she wants to continue. 

Amelie cleared her throat again. Every living moment was something she was fighting for. The girl had a surprising amount of willpower considering it all.

"Oh gods above I'm right." Amelie lets out a snort after. Collecting herself after, she still needs to talk and if she goes into a coughing fit again she's going to keel over. Not in front of Margo.
"I don't understand how it's tricky. But, that's just my opinion and I don't think you'd want to hear that." 
Amelie simply didn't understand hatred for somebody that wished to be the opposite sex of what they were born as. But, some answers will continue to remain elusive because this answer sounds stupid. Amelie really likes Margo as a friend though, it dosent matter of Amelie is wheelchair bound she'll run over anybody who does Margo wrong.
"Oh! This happens all the time now. It's a bit of an annoyance but it's the least of my worries and certainly some of the least painful things I experience."
Amelie smiles. "So no need to worry."
Oscar
◆ "*Oh.*" Margo's voice rumbled deep in her throat. "You had family problems too, man? No push, but... What kinda bullshit did *Your* Family put you through?"

□ Now, oddly enough, they had another talking point: a mutual hatred of at least one of their parents that curled into dreams of extreme violence, mutilation and murder center stage in idle daydreams. Margo understood what had drove *Her* To the ends she'd been to, but Amelie was somewhat of a stranger, someone she didn't know well, and that meant she felt as if there might have been an entirely different reason. Whatever the case she sipped her tea again, listening to her friend talk.

▪︎ It was nice, the whole sitting around and talking thing. It felt oddly domestic, a rarity in such a spot.

◆ "Chasers, transphobes, TERFs, bigots... Us trans chicks have it *Hard,* Man, and a huge part of that is dating. It's *Risky,* Especially for my trans sisters who date guys, but even a lesbian like me gotta watch out for shit." She explained, her hands doing some rather weird motions that fit in with what she was talking about. "It's just hard out there, I guess. Anyways... Chronic illness life, huh?"
Ambrose
"Are you truly sure you want to hear that?" Amelie wheezes out through another cough that falls from her throat like a fall leaf. "I... Alright?"

"My mother and Father were both extremely abusive. My mother a drunkard and my father an incel. Both of my sisters died in my early years and I was gifted expectations I couldn't live up to and more beatings. Though I..." Amelie stops. A cough causing her to double over before collecting herself again. She sighs while wincing at pain that burst through her skin. "I lost everything. And, everyone. To put it simply. My mother tired strangling me to death, after killing my only friend and my father. It sent me into a seizure which ended up to me losing my ability to walk." Amelie's voice sounded heavy. She truly wished she never survived that say, all this just is just too much. Nothing to live for nothing to look forward to. Blood trickles down her face, the bandages on her hands and collar staining slightly. She doesn't think she'll ever come to terms with it.

A rarity that she found somebody like Margo. Amelie hopes she gets what she wants, it would be a shame if she didn't. 

"Disgusting and frustrating. Why aren't they dead? I don't understand. The world eludes me." Amelie pulls out. Wincing once more when her voice comes out raspy. 
"Chronic illness? Possibly. The power that's destroying my body certainly isn't helping." Amelie chuckles.
Oscar
◇ She wasn't sure what to expect, but good *Lord* Did she get a handful.

□ So, Amelie hadn't always been riddled with ever-shifting bones, nor wheelchair-bound. It had been the result of trauma, intense abuses at the hands of both parents culminating in attempted murder, and apparently the aftermath had left her parents nearly dead. It was a lot to take in, and so Margo sat quietly for a couple of moments after Amelie stopped talking, the rim of her cup pressed into the crease of her lips, tea vapours wafting into her nostrils as she sat deep in thought.

▪︎ After all, she couldn't just blurt some generic apologetic stuff out. She'd lived a similar experience; she felt compelled to spill her own blood.

◆ "Fuck, man, that's rough, but... I know how it feels. I'm... Glad you're here, still, even if your waking moments gotta be a living hell." That was an understatement, but how could she accurately explain such anguish when she'd never felt it? "My home life was kinda better than that but my father was... Crazy abusive, but it wasn't in obvious ways. It usually wasn't physical, instead he was neglectful and manipulative. Bastard had a snake tongue, and he'd never, y'know... Talk to us honestly. He got lost in that world of Wall Street bullshit and we never saw him much afterwards. I'm sorry, though, that you never had a moment of peace."

• "But, hey..." Margo looked over, a hopeful look on her face. "We survived that shit, not much can hurt us now, right?"
Ambrose
Amelie's breathing comes out a little heavy. 

Gods there was so much more. The constant burdens, the guilt tripping. The men at the bars. It's too much of a mess to put into words. Her entire family dead, her friend... Lord only knows she doesn't want to talk about that. Amelie inhales and exhales trying to calm herself. Her right hand twitches and shakes. She quickly hides said hand in her leather jacket. 

Amelie dosent need pity and she never will. Every day waking up to it makes her sick. Maybe if Tejal- No, she wasn't going down that rabbit hole.

"There's more but, you've heard enough. Yeah it's rough but it's nothing compared to others so I don't complain." Amelie just looks at Margo her eye looking rather hollow. "That man deserves an ill fate." Amelie hisses her face turning into a scowl. "You deserve much better than that. I know it." Amelie's face returns back to neutral after that scowl. 

Amelie purses her lips. She knows she truly died that day. She'll never really think the same nor act the same. Amelie's eye flicker to her hands then to her tea then back to Margo. She puts on a smile. 
"Yeah. I'm glad you're here Ms. Killjoy." 
Amelie means it genuinely and she tries her best to convey it though speech.
Oscar
◆ "Trauma is trauma, man." Margo interjected, her voice serious yet respectful. "Doesn't matter how mild you think it is, it's still... Well, *That.* So... Fuck. I had something I was gonna say, but it slipped my mind."

□ Letting out a discontented grumble, she looked back at the TV, gently swinging her head around so she'd be able to see herself in its negative reflection. Something about this whole hangout, with its trauma dumping and chatting about women, felt absolutely unhinged, yet it felt as if it was a natural, good conversation. It had went places on its own, with barely any outside interference, and perhaps that was what mattered. Whatever the case Margo flicked on the TV, making sure to mute it so that it wouldn't interrupt the conversation at hand.

▪︎ She hummed lightly.

◆ "Thanks." She plainly replied, rotating her foot around slightly. "I think we both deserve better. But... The world's cruel as hell, so who knows if we'll find it?"
Ambrose
"It's alright Ms. Killjoy." Amelie says a smile peeking onto her lips. "I'm still living." *Surprisingly*, Amelie adds on within her head.

Amelie hums with unrest, this whole conversation was something of its own. An amalgamation of confusion, trying to recall this hangout later would be like trying to recall what numbers you saw when you got hit by a car. Amelie couldn't because she would be too busy taking her medication and, trying not to accidentally overdose because of how much she shakes and twitches. It was a nice airy talk, one Amelie certainly couldn't replicate within her head, not that she'd want to. But, she'd certainly want to talk to Margo again, it was a little because Amelie liked her voice. Something Amelie was loathe to admit. 

The light of the TV bounces off Amelie's rather lifeless eyes, it creating an artificial light to a void. 
"I'll make sure you get it, or I'll try." 

Amelie's brow furrows as she looks at Margo. 
"Ms. Killjoy, how tall are you?" She asks with a contemplating look upon her bandaged features.
Oscar
◆ "And sometimes that's good enough."

□ Offering up a bit of life support with a cautiously hopeful voice, Margo switched on the TV with the remote she always kept wedged in between the seats, her flatscreen zipping to life and instantly showing an episode about two morbidly obese women trying to lose weight. It was one of her stupid hobbies, this show, and as it came on and the sound started playing she felt compelled to turn it down, mostly because she didn't know how her wheelchair-bound friend would feel about the fact that she watched shows like this just to make fun of the leads.

▪︎ Admittedly, it *Was* Kinda fucked up, but Margo...? She would be the first to admit that she herself was a little fucked up.

◆ "Five foot nine or so. Haven't been measured in a while, but I think female puberty doesn't really give you a lot of room to grow height-wise. It's all just... Went to my hips and my chest." She jokingly lamented, knowing full well that the constant warfare between her body's natural supply of testosterone and the various medications she was taking meant that her body was still masculine in ways she was loath to admit. "Family doctor back home said that if I hadn't started transitioning young I'd have likely been over six foot, but... I like my height. Means that the actual six foot plus women I see are all way taller..." She trailed off, dreaminess lacing her voice like a tablecloth. "You? Feel like it's kinda tough to judge that stuff just based off of how you look in your wheelchair."
Ambrose
Amelie's face scrunches as Margo gives life advice. She has heard this all too much and is actually quite tired of it. The show is in the background and Amelie regards it with a raised brow. It's an odd show. Not that she particularly knows what they're saying, she doesn't want to either. Amelie just instead looks at Margo the show forgotten in the foreground. 

Amelie could absolutely care less if you were fucked up. If you're a friend then she would, wheel herself to the ends of the earth. 

"I'm actually taller than you." Amelie says with pride. She always enjoyed her height, being any shorter and she simply wouldn't exist. Amelie just couldn't handle being that tiny. 
"Good for you! I'm glad you like that."
Amelie noticed the way Margo's voice sounded dreamlike. Margo likes taller women that's for sure. Hopelessly gay she was, not that Amelie had a problem with it. 
"I'm 5'10 though this Wheelchair severely handicaps my height, I was rather tall. I would stand and show you but..."
Amelie motions to her legs with a laugh.
Oscar
◆ "*Oh.*" Margo let out a surprised chuckle, deep in her throat and barely audible outside of maybe a few feet. "See, that's the whole thing, man. I would've thought you were maybe my height, but God... Five ten before God struck you down? Then again, that's only one inch of difference, so."

□ It might have only been an inch, but it was enough to set Margo's mind a-wandering. What had Amelie looked like before her powers manifested and completely ruined her life and any shot at a happy future? What had she looked like on her own two feet, leather jacket flowing as she strolled down whatever German street she'd lived on? Whatever the case, it was a reminder that life could switch up on a dime, and that maybe she'd be well off to cherish her able-bodiedness.

▪︎ Or, maybe she was just letting her mind wander, and she'd forget once Amelie was back in the hallway.

◆ "Yeah, though... I'm gonna be honest, some days I just. Man. I hope I lose a leg or an arm some say." She laughed, oddly enough. "Just to have a prosthetic and all that shit. I think they look cool as hell, and everyone who has them seems to be fine with it, so it can't be that bad..."
Ambrose
"Yes it seems so." Amelie mumbles as she listens to Margo. "I could be taller who knows."

Amelie's powers were going to ruin her life any way, shape, or form. She was meant to die it's just the question of why didn't she at birth. She was supposed to die in that damn operation room. She was supposed to die so long ago, why can't she just do so. Her life didn't switch on a dime it just got worse. And Amelie just dosent want to fight anymore. All of the happiness from before was gone and, Tejal's death was the reason why. She faults herself for it, all of it. 

"Odd. What I wouldn't give to have that. But, I'm so messed up that doing that would kill me." Amelie says with a tight smile. Her right hand twitches violently. "I think you'd look pretty cool with one. If you want it, whom am I do deny you?" Amelie's eyes curl with her awkward smile. 
"But, why would you deny yourself the ability to walk?" 
Amelie envies Margo, for being able to control their body without being in intense and agonizing amounts of pain. 

The envy Amelie feels with everyone is unmatched. Why must she suffer this way? She got one happy thing and then everything at once got torn away. Everything dosent work how it's supposed to, her body is fighting itself. What Amelie wouldn't give to be in Margo's position is frightening. But, Amelie could never say that. She has to keep it to herself or she's not a good daughter.
Oscar
◇ Margo simply nodded. Surely, Amelie could always be taller. That was the miracle of life...

□ But not now. No sense in dwelling in those unknowable futures, for the present had its own troubles... And its own conversations. Looking over at Amelie, she shook the cobweb thoughts out and let her friend's wistful speech flow in effortlessly. Of course, though, one question lodged itself into her brain: *"Why would you deny yourself the ability to walk?"* It was a question she had considered before, and so she had previously-cemented ideas, but she hadn't actually considered the *Future* Troubles being an amputee could cause.

▪︎ Maybe she needed to think on it again, with a good cup of white tea.

◆ "I dunno. I've... Never really thought about all the bad stuff. It's just the aesthetic, and wanting to know what having my mobility ripped from me feels like. I'm a fucked up kid, man, I dunno." She looked down at her lap, the vertical-striped corduroy trousers folding and creasing in odd places. Why had she decided to bring this up with a crippled woman? What was she thinking? "Probably a terrible thing to say. I'm... Sorry."
Ambrose
Amelie could've been many things. But, it just ended up like this. In a wheelchair with endless guilt and regrets. Once covered with makeup to hide bruises from her parents supposed tough love, then sent out to a stage. It was either dancing or violin and she was beloved for it. But, Tejal the one person Amelie would trade the world for. She could never forget. She *Was* Happy, once. 

Amelie though all that pain and burden. Having to live up to and hide everything, hid nothing from this one girl. She would give everything to have Tejal back she'd do anything. She'd die for her, for Tejal wasn't supposed to. Tejal was a girl that was worth so much more than Amelie. Why did she have to die? Why did Amelie have to continue? 

Amelie's bones purged themselves from her body and her hands came to hold herself in a hug. Clinging tightly into the leather jacket that hung from Amelie's thin and weak shoulders. She stops for a second patting around her jacket then pulling out a broken necklace. One that is worn, it looked like a locket or something. Amelie circled her thumb on its silver surface, it was a sort of worry Stone for the girl. It seems like she needed it as she brought her legs up into her curled position.

"You never know what you lost before it was too late. You are able to live with it. But, it's hard. So hard." 
Amelie's thumb prodded at the locket. She hums listening to Margo. 
"It's fine. Though you did bring it up to the wrong person. I envy you Margo having to live with no phantom pain. Being able to walk, to stand up to others. To be strong enough to fight back." 
Amelie purses her lips.
"I have to be quite frank when I say I both admire and envy you. You're so wonderful. And I haven't yet started to process it. It's probably because I just got here though. And there's so many people I'm envious of. But, that may just be me."
Oscar
◇ And, as Amelie sat quiet, in her own train of thought, Margo stepped aboard her own, with an unknown destination emblazoned on the back of her skull.

□ She'd never really considered the long-term effects of her decisions much before Newton's Cradle. Perhaps a vestige of her childhood spent on the streets of Brooklyn, being a menace without a cause with her siblings and living carelessly, she hadn't considered what her future would look like after she'd beat her father nearly to death. Now, she had a lot of time to think, and think she did, and it had helped her realize that life was indeed like a game of chess.

▪︎ Looking forward was what it was, and she was now looking forward into the future of losing a limb.

◆ "Yeah, I, erm... I can imagine you probably envy me." Her voice never faltered from husky and awkward, but it was clear in the way she squirmed in her seat a touch and really wouldn't make eye contact with Amelie that screamed volumes of how she was feeling. "Man, I'm just a... A mentally ill dyke. Nothing to look up to when it comes to me, honestly, but... Also I'm a little flattered. Woah. I guess you're... Great too? Your willpower's insane, and you're still so good-natured from the looks of things. You're handling this shit awfully well, I think."
Ambrose
Amelie couldn't do anything yet Margo has the power to do... Everything. And Amelie is clinging onto what restraint she has left with painful force. 

Nobody really knows the consequences. Nobody till after they happen, and if you think about the future filled with what ifs you drive yourself insane and paranoid. There really is no winning here and Amelie found that out the hard way. Her game was already up, it was just a matter of time. But, she does which she had a second chance. 

"I do but at least I'm upfront about it. No use to hide it." Amelie winces as the position she put Margo in and looks away her thumb stopping itself from rubbing into the locket. She puts the locket back and after she interlocks her hands, just having them there. Her tea has long gone cold though it would be nice to have some again. 

"I'm trying my best. If you're a mentally ill lesbian then I am too but, I think you're pretty cool. But, y'know you already know that, and if I must say it again I will." Amelie just sits there leaning back into her wheelchair with an absent stare upon her features. What if Margo didn't want to be friends? What if Amelie pushed too far- No she must find out now. 
"And." Amelie takes a moment to breathe. 
"I'd really love to be friends with you. Ms. Killjoy."
Oscar
◆ "Fair." Margo shrugged, twisting slightly and snaking a hand through the neckline of her shirt to scratch some unseen itch on her shoulder. "Fair... What is it, though, that makes me stand out? I'm... Aside from my eye, man, I'm nothing special. Just another trans chick in an unsafe world full of them."

□ Maybe it was self-deprecating to minimize her own benefits and her own genuine good traits, but it was a rare moment of humility shining through awkwardly-constructed sentences, an admission that she was just an average girl at this point. Sure, she'd done things no other teenage girl had done in a long time, but she was still, at the end of the day, not that much different than the others at the Cradle. Sipping her now-lukewarm tea, she hummed in the depths of her throat as Amelie spoke, any flirtatious words that might have left the other's mouth bouncing off of her noggin like it was nothing.

▪︎ Just because she was hopelessly gay didn't mean she was good at telling when other girls were flirting in their own ways.

◆ "Had you pegged for one. I. I mean. That sounded better in my head, shit..." The hand she'd previously snaked to her shoulder moved to the nape of her neck, rubbing it as she let the wave of embarrassment cascade over her like a shell in the clay. "Oh, we're not already friends? Kinda thought we were just from chatting in that group chat thing the Cradle has. You're cool so far, not really getting any nasty vibes off ya, we're cool. We're cool, man..."
Ambrose
Amelie smiles but, then her eye catches Margo scratching at that unseen itch and that smile quickly turns into a cough. "I don't care of physical difference, Ms. Killjoy. The way you speak, how you sort through things, the way you even walk or move your fingers. From what I've seen you're extremely caring as well.-" Amelie stops. "I'm just very prone to looking at the less obvious things." 

Nothing Amelie said was a flirtatious it was all compliments. She knows how to deliver those well due to her frequented outings to play or show publicly in general. T'was odd but she knows how to navigate things correctly when she is able to control herself. Amelie wasn't hopelessly gay she was just happy to be here, which was an astute lie. 

Amelie couldn't actually tell if she was flirting or not. Which ends up mostly in confusion. 

"I... I don't understand why it doesn't sound fine." Why was Margo suddenly embarrassed? Was it something on her face. Amelie quickly touched her face and the fingers of her hand came away red. Oh, she was bleeding. Was that why? Amelie's fuzzes over a little And her eyes droop slightly. Maybe this conversation was a bit too stressful. Amelie needs a good rest. 

"Vunderbar! That is very good news. I thought we weren't for a moment and I was going to be utterly confused." Amelie says with a wobbly smile. She Continues to stare at her hand while doing so though.
Oscar
◆ "You pay attention to that small shit?" A touch surprised, she figured it wouldn't hurt to look for confirmation. "Thought I was the only one. Can't face someone eye-to-eye for the life of me, but noticing how their fingers curl or how the skin on their neck tightens around their arteries as they turn it? I notice all that shit. Usually."

□ She was human, what could she say? She had her flaws, but rather than mope about 'em she did all she could do, which was learn body language, little tells that told her how someone was feeling, or what they might have been thinking. Of course, though, in a low stress hangout like this it was barely worth her effort, so she'd been slacking. No matter. Sipping her tea again, she could be seen still nodding approvingly at its flavour, but oddly enough she could also be seen rocking back and forth on such a small scale that it was debatable if she even knew.

▪︎ Answer: she didn't.

◆ "I dunno, I said *Pegged* And my shitfuck of a brain just... Went places. Dark places. Leather-bound books. That sorta shit." She sheepishly admitted, worried that it'd maybe scare Amelie off, or disgust her. Whatever; she'd already said it. "Yeah, I get that. Friendship's kinda weird if you think about it; you just... Look at someone, talk to them a bit, and your brain decides that it likes that person, maybe even enough to dispense serotonin or something. I dunno."
Ambrose
"Yes, I have a tendency to it." And, Margo got her confrontation. Amelie could meet another eye yet she always found her gaze flickering to a subtle twitch, or movement. "You have a good eye." Amelie stops. "That can be seen as a joke or not. If you don't mind it." Amelie is also extremely Cautious. It just came with the package.


Amelie had too much time to herself, to mull over the way she was to tear out her own fingernails, due to how much she felt the bones of her body bulging from them. She moped but acted at least. She acted with what she could, and damn if she wasn't good with it. Amelie watched Margo take a drink a tea even though it was rather lukewarm. She gave a shrug before minding her own again. 

It didn't matter if Margo knew or not. 

Amelie choked on her air and curled into herself with a laugh. Which again turned into coughs. 
"LORD! Ms. Killjoy. You do have a mind of your own, truly." Amelie had her hands covering her face while she recomposed herself. It took a long exhale before she uncovered her face and looked at Margo with a rather flushed look. That laugh took everything she had. 
"Yes yes I understand. It's that strange little click I'm not quite sure." Amelie says. She is slow to take her cup of tea again and take a long drink of it. This conversation was a whirlwind she wasn't prepared for.
Oscar
◆ "I'd hope I have a good eye." She dryly joked. "I already got one eye fucked up by my powers, would be awful if the other one went. *Thaaat's* A joke, by the way; my vision is crazy good."

□ Perhaps it killed any impact her joke had, but soon enough she'd be making a riot off the back of her verbally mistake anyways, so who cared? Sipping the bottom third of her tea, she was debating on whether to grab another cup immediately after she was done, or if she'd just let it cool off a bit more. Did she? Or did she not? Whatever. Clarifying her previous point seemingly got a laugh out of Amelie, and even if it *Was* Oddly embarrassing and her cheeks lit up red she still smiled, at least able to take solace in the fact that she'd made someone else laugh.

▪︎ And thankfully, it was with her, and not *At* Her.

◆ "I'd... Hope my mind is mine. I'd probably rather just give up and die than trade my free will out." Foreshadowing, perhaps? Or maybe just the truth of the matter. Who knew? "Anyways, yeah. It just... Clicks. Outta nowhere. It's a mystery but it works, and maybe we just shouldn't question or force it. I dunno."
Ambrose
"Good! You can ve my eyes then!" Amelie says as a joke. With a side smile warping her features. "I know Süßigkeiten. Your tone killed ze joke." 
Amelie says with a sarcastic tone. 

Margo was plenty funny but, to be honest Amelie could not take her seriously with her accent. Amelie could care less if Margo fumbled with her words like putting a key in a lock while panicking, Amelie would hear and understand regardless. Amelie noticed that Margo was tipping the cup a little far with meant she was nearing the end of her tea. The tea wasn't bad by any means, so why not Margo get more. Amelie was currently breathing a little hard, she was so weak that even laughing rendered her helpless. What a sorry child. But, Amelie found it alright when she was with Margo. 

Amelie could never laugh at others, it simply wasn't a thing she could do. Having heard it too much it left an indention upon her brain. Amelie could be mean without regrets because of her condition on constantly being on deaths door, banging on its bloody mahogany wood. But, she feels that she cannot sometimes. Though bitterness sours her blood she is simply too tired sometimes. 

"And I couldn't bear to 'kind of' lose a friend when I just got one. Ms. Killjoy."
Amelie hopes it whatever Margo said never comes to fruition.
 "I am not! I swear it! I am just drinking tea." 
Amelie pled with a sarcastic tone.
Oscar
◆ "Hah, guess so."

□ Rather than fire a joke back, in a moment of awkwardness stemming from a lack of witty remarks to spit she instead opted for quiet, letting her voice train off and the soft sound of My 600lb Life flow through the room. Finally paying attention, she sputtered a little, misting tea onto her TV and her coffee table in a moment of disbelief. Quickly checking the directory, she noticed that, for one episode, it had *Two* Eight hundred pound individuals on it, and like the fucked up kid she was she let out a laugh.

▪︎ Maybe it was weird, but...

◆ "Hah, holy *Fuck.* Look at those whales, Jesus!" She continued to snicker, her eyes closing slightly and her mouth curling into a smile, albeit a cruel one. "Honestly I just watch this show to laugh at the people on it. Like, yeah, some people have thyroid problems and stuff, but I guarantee you most of these people just don't have any goddamned willpower. Literally all you have to do is watch your portions and work out, and that's still too much for those fuckin' hamplanets. Anyways..." She took a few moments to simmer down, breathing heavily to try and stop herself from cracking up again. "Well, I ain't goin' anywhere. God has no sayy over my life, and neither does the Devil. It's all me, myself, and I, and I'm not goin' anywhere until I decide I've seen enough. No worries."
Ambrose
There was a soft laugh that cut through the room from Amelie. Though the show that played went in one ear and out through the other at surprising pace. She didn't necessarily care for the show nor did she want to. American TV didn't interest her by any means, yet it seems Margo enjoyed it. Odd but, you find entertainment in strange areas. Amelie didn't pay attention to the Television, only to the fair haired girl almost but not quite across from her. 

Amelie would never know what Margo is laughing at. 

Amelie hummed watching Margo critique the show. It was interesting watching Margo do so but it was most likely because Amelie was making direct eye constant with Margo's face. 
"Wie traurig." 
Amelie said with a drawl. She slowly put her cup onto the table. Amelie's vision blurred quite a bit, though it was most like due to the bones causing her blood loss. But, not enough to kill her. She'll be fine. 

Amelie narrows a weary eye at Margo. 
"Ich genieße deine Gesellschaft. Ich möchte noch einmal sprechen." 
Amelie's voice slowed. "Bald vielleicht?"
Her gaze softened. 
"Gut. Ich möchte meine Freunde behalten."
Amelie looked at the table. 
"No hospital, please. Ms. Killjoy."
And with a soft thump Amelie's head hit the able and she was out like a dead fire.
Oscar
◇ At first, she didn't notice what was up, but then...

■ "Huh?" Looking over at Amelie, she immediately recognized that something was wrong. The other girl's eyes were narrowed, her tongue slipping into German out of nowhere, her every word pushed out like the world's worst crap, and she could tell that something was up. Turning down the volume on the television, she was about to open her mouth when her friend's head smacked against the table, indicating that she was completely and totally out. Sighing, she couldn't deny that there was a pang of worry within, but...

▪︎ Amelie had said not to call the hospital, so she wouldn't.

• Instead, she simply rose to her feet, stretched, and set both cups with their saucers atop her desk before beginning to try and balance Amelie in her wheelchair so she could at least wheel her back to her room. That, and she grabbed a tube of crickets; after all, she wouldn't be leaving Amelie's room for some time out of concern, so might as well bring a snack along.
Ambrose
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