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Hey Baby, What's Your Sign? (Billiam x Satire)

The bus slowed to a stop across the street of the coffee shop with a screech and a hiss. The collage of sounds reached the ears of a young woman who was asleep in the foremost seat, wrists dangling between her knees with her head drooped. She gave a little sniffle in her sleep. Her bright blonde hair hung in a short, ruffled curtain that obscured her face and parted around a badly sunburnt neck. Of course, as the bus heaved to a halt, the girl slept no longer. With a squeal she jerked awake, feet scuffling for purchase on the floor of the bus as she teetered forward in her seat. With a jerk and a shout, her head hit the metal bar of the seat before her with a resounding clang. There was a murmur and a few laughs throughout the bus. Easing herself back into a sitting position, she held her head in a just-as-sunburnt hand, wishing she had had the foresight to resist pocketing that pack of batteries at the bus station. "But I needed them," She said in a bitter tone to absolutely nobody. Regardless of what use she put the batteries to, theft was still a misdeed, so her luck had been dreary ever since then. She had lost his cell phone, recieved yet another rip in her sleeve and had her face slapped by an what could only have been a Aires, as it had stung so much. She had thought the girl was reaching for her purse. He was actually stooping for a penny.

She pulled the penny in question out of her pocket and said, in a mocking musical voice,
"Find a penny, pick it up. Then all day you'll have good luck," and promptly threw the coin out the window. "Luck", she said bitterly.

The girls name was Clorin Pledge. Clorin was by no means a exceptionally tall girl, but managed to stand an eyebrow over most woman her age. She had the look of one who had both not gotten enough sleep, and had slept far too long in the sun. Her long nose and high cheekbones were painted crimson with sunburn, and the dabs of red would give her the look of someone quite cheerful if not for a pair of symmetrical grooves set below each eye. The rest of her face bore signs of lack of sleep as well. Her lips, while full, were pale and hard to tell apart from the rest of her complexion and her head drooped without warning as she fought to keep it up. She gave the impression of a girl who could be quite pretty if she ate a sizable meal and gave herself a good nights sleep. Her blonde hair was cropped short out of necessity, as she'd had far too much experience dealing with treebranches catching it when she'd been a bad girl. Her eyes were a weak brown, nearly orange. Well, more appropriately her eye. She wore a curious pair of glasses, round with a clear lens over her right eye and a tinted one over her left, hiding the place where her eye should be. Her hands and wrists were a collage of nicks and scratches, some fresh, others scarred over. They were by no means impressive battle wounds. They were the evidence of many a trip, stumble and fall.

Her clothing was close to her body like her hair, though it hadn't escaped her bad luck. The occasional rip and stitch sewn were into the tight white tank top, accenting her small breasts that took a back seat to her healthy pair of hips that she was ever so conscious about. Her snug jeans were also in shambles, multicolored patches overlaying in some parts, her pale legs visible through holes in stunning contrast to her crimson face. Her stub-prone feet were wearing a pair of mid-calf beige boots.

It was apparent that Clorin wasn't the best behaved Libra to be born under the stars of the scales, and as such, didn't have the best luck.

With a stumble she was off the bus, standing on the sidewalk wearing her ever-present frown and T-shirt, already damp with sweat and her sports bra clearly visible. She looked lost, as though she didn't quite know why she was there. A sparsely packed duffel bag was over one shoulder. Her eyes wandered over her surroundings, passing over the ancient book store, the police station, the coffee shop. They finally rested on a narrow, tall building. A townhouse. She drew a slip of paper out of his pocket, compared the address to the number of the building, and grimaced. With hurried steps she was across the street, a car nearly turning her into a fine red mist as it sped past, and knocked on the door.
 
Amy heard the sound of knocking on the door and eagerly bounded down the steps. Her mysterious roommate was supposed to be arriving today, which meant that for the first time in nearly three months, the place wouldn't be nearly as creepy and empty for her.

It was a few moments after the girl had knocked at the door that it was opened to reveal a girl barely clearing five feet in height, though the hint of curves beneath her blue sundress suggested that she was older than she looked at first glance. Amy's hair was a natural bright red that could really only maintain one shape - incredibly curly. Accidents in her youth led her to decide by this point that it was not going to be her that conquered the hair, so it was best to just live with it in peace and harmony as best she could. Her face was a mass of freckles and shiny red cheeks against rather pale skin. This all drew attention to her most striking feature, the bright blue eyes that seemed to almost shimmer if one looked at them too long.

"You must be Clorin... Pledge... right? Amy Halloway!" She eagerly extended a hand to her new guest, revealing a slender arm that was marked on the inner wrist by a series of blue squiggles - sure sign of an Aquarius.

As she waited for the other girl to take her hand, she took a moment to size her up. Clorin was definitely not what Amy was normally used to. It was hard to tell if she'd had a hard life or simply a hard fall, but her new roommate most definitely had the air of someone who had lived a much different life from herself. Amy had grown up in this same town - the schools, the library, the coffee shops and nightclubs, she knew them all by heart. But she hadn't ever been the terribly adventurous type. There were those who saw her almost unreal eyes, her porcelein (if admittedly over-freckled), unmarred skin, and her cheery attitude and almost worried that Amy was some sort of living doll, some kind of project to create the perfect person, so long as that person's interests included hanging around inside, reading, listening to music, and being generally safe.

The most daring thing she'd ever done with her life was all the dancing she'd done since her youth. In fact, that was about the only time the otherwise docile girl seemed to really come alive and lose herself. It was just a shame that it was only for mere minutes at a time.
 
"Hello at last." Clorin breathed in a watered down Austrailian accent. A sheepish smile dancing across her face, Clorin fumbled with her duffel bag on her shoulder for a moment as she tried to free her right hand to shake the others; She somehow managed to loop the strap around her waist and, adverting her eyes from her new roommate, shimmied out of it before finally leaning forward and shaking the tips of Amy's fingertips. It was as much as she could reach stumbling into her roommate, as the duffel bag was still wrapped around her knees. "Thanks for doing this for me." She said with a grateful sigh as she finally met the Aquarius's eyes. She seemed to have left her brain on the other side of the street as she looked into the perfectly circular pools of shimmering blue and a giddy smile raised the corner of her lip. Then her mind came speeding to catch up and she closed her mouth, becoming suddenly very interested in the doorframe.

Unseen by the shorter girl, a broad streak of the darkest blue, almost purple peeked out from the sweeping neck of her tank top. If one was to take off her shirt, and she couldn't imagine anyone would ever want to do something like that, they would see the mark of the Libra splayed out on her chest and directly over her heart. It followed the contours of her left breast perfectly. She was glad of the placement of her brand. it made it easy to hide with collared shirts and turtlenecks. Most people treated Libra's very poorly. They would always crop up and ask for favors, knowing that if they phrased it just right, the Libra would have no chance but to oblige or suffer the concequences. Clorin had grown up with this treatment on the schoolyard, bullied into becoming nothing more than a slave to the other children, until she learned the word no. It soon became her favorite word. Despite the punishments that followed, she felt in control when she denied help to somebody, willingly facing the concequences.

It had become as such that she had forgotten what it was like to recieve the good luck that came alongside doing good deeds.
 
Amy, despite her best efforts to make a good first impression and be a decent host, found herself giggling brightly at Clorin's initial greeting. She quickly bit down on her lower lip, but it wasn't quite enough to stifle the soft laughter that continued to bubble up. She felt bad not because she was laughing at the girl herself - though the showing of clumsiness had a certain slapstick charm - but more at the simple fact that she was already beginning to realize that taking in this girl had the potential to be quite a change from her usual routine. Clorin was different, and there was really no getting around that.

"It's really no trouble... C'mon in and I'll show you around. Is that all your stuff?" She pointed at the duffel bag twisted up around her legs on the ground and opened her arms as an offer to get the thing away from the other before she managed to hurt herself any further.

The townhouse was nothing special, designed more or less like thousands of others across the country. The bottom floor included a decent-sized living room, already outfitted with a couch, a couch, a TV, and a few other things decorating the walls. The kitchen was standard fair as well, with all the normal amenities. Amy had certainly added her own touch to everything - some cute decorations here and there, and even the dishes were oddly fitting her charm.

The upstairs was a hall bathroom inbetween two bedrooms. One clearly belonged to the redhead, and the other was left vacant for the new occcupant. Inside there was already a bed set up for her and an empty closet and dresser, but that was it. "I'm... afraid it's a bit depressingly drab at the moment... Hopefully we can get you some posters or something, make it a bit more... home-y"

Truth be told, there was a bit of a shared guilt amongst the sign of Aquarius. Cancers came at things sideways, making them difficult to deal with sometimes. Geminis always seemed to be of two minds about everything. And the poor Libras, well... But Aquariuses had it relatively easy. They flowed through everything like water, both physically and mentally. Their only fault tended to be that they were rather aloof about everything, keeping things buried beneath the surface. It wasn't that Amy didn't have her own baggage, but for the water-bearers, it was always... a little different.
 
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