<strong>Sullivan "Sully" Grosvenor  (mid 2008, age: 15)</strong><br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Flat<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Emily<br/><br/>"Yup. " he said idly in agreement with what she had to say about animals in corners. It's pretty much the reason why I kept himself in the corner. Well, that, and he sincerely doubted they could, like, reach through the wall and get at his back side. Wait. "You don't think<em>they</em>can move through walls, do you?" The nebulous 'they' being... well, pretty much anything not-human.<br/><br/>"I don't like the nights, either." He took in a deep breath, and exhaled it as a huff through his nose. "Most kids don't have a Fairie Godmother that wants them dead." The sheer offhanded way in which he spoke of this, of how casually he said it, might take some by surprise. Especially since they might not readily know their Godmother's plans or true motivations. Doesn't mean Sully won't jump to the worst conclusions possible.<br/><br/>What She did stung him so very deeply, because he was foolish enough to trust Her, when usually he would not trust anyone; because She had made him feel so good, had given him a glimpse of peace and joy, with the way She made him feel. And then She went and pulled that fast one on them. It was like a festering wound on his soul.<br/><br/>He rests himself against her, in a sort of awkward cuddle. He looked like he was still on his course of losing weight, though he kept a certain amount of 'baby fat' on his face that made him seem a bit younger than he actually was. "It's not fair." He said, exasperated.