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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray</id>
  <title>Come day's end...</title>
  <subtitle>...she can say good bye to her nice quiet life.</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Melaka Fray</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2008-04-18T09:59:54Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="9197185" username="grabber_fray" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:6450</id>
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    <title>Farm Meeting</title>
    <published>2008-04-18T09:59:54Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-18T09:59:54Z</updated>
    <content type="html">On reflection, maybe she should have put the note  up earlier. Before she actually started throwing her weight around. Before she actually started making decisions Zuko would have taken to the council. But now she faces actually talking to people, justifying herself, and... well, the usual issues that come with these meetings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's understandable her stomach is turning itself in knots as she brings chairs,  and water up onto the bunker roof. Something to do to stop her pacing. She doesn't think much about the set up - assuming people with cluster as they wish when they arrive. But she herself leans against a  table set apart from the chairs, sitting on her hands to stop them turning her stakes over in worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sucks.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:6246</id>
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    <title>grabber_fray @ 2008-02-17T21:11:00</title>
    <published>2008-02-17T21:03:45Z</published>
    <updated>2008-02-17T21:23:33Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Out in the outermost fields of the Cooper farm, there is an epic discovery being made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Penge the Otterpenguin stands on top of a molehill, surveying the entire field in front of him. He's been travelling for weeks, months, years to find this place, and now he has found the promised sanctuary!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;We will rule over this land&lt;/i&gt;, he seems to be saying, &lt;i&gt;and we shall call it this land!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I think we should call it YOUR GRAVE!&lt;/i&gt; declares Dino, before visiously attacking his wooden friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Penge cries out against Dino's sudden betrayal, as admittedly inevitable as it is, while Dino laughs evilly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, the only witness to this bloody murder is sixteen months old and not really capable of telling anyone, about it. Also, it amuses her far too much, given her squeals of joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mel, taking a break from the hard work of ploughing the field, is lying on her side, watching Hana playing with half an eye and a full smile. Life is good.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:5936</id>
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    <title>[SE: The night of the attack.]</title>
    <published>2007-06-20T14:51:17Z</published>
    <updated>2007-06-20T14:51:17Z</updated>
    <content type="html">The girls dropped off to sleep eventually, curled up together against Zuko's comforting warmth. Mel, having assigned herself the first watch, left them reluctantly, pulling a new shirt on instead of the torn one and dropping back down to Street level to gather her dropped stakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now she's crouching at the edge of the roof, listening to the reassuring snores of the sleepers, and staring out over the street, alert and watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's almost meditation.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:5832</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://grabber-fray.livejournal.com/5832.html"/>
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    <title>[Apt. 103]</title>
    <published>2006-10-08T08:49:55Z</published>
    <updated>2006-10-08T08:49:55Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Stupid babies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid bed rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid &lt;i&gt;stupid&lt;/i&gt; Chinese  readers.&lt;br /&gt;Equally stupid Fire Nation script.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mel's hot, flustered, uncomfortable  and bored with trying to learn languages with weird writing. But there's very little else to do, and maybe she'd be inclined to disobey the order of bed rest if she didn't feel so shit right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there's very little else to occupy the time between visits, other than the occasional glare at the door, when it fails to open and provide a new visitor.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:5415</id>
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    <title>grabber_fray @ 2006-09-11T19:46:00</title>
    <published>2006-09-11T18:46:05Z</published>
    <updated>2006-09-11T18:46:05Z</updated>
    <content type="html">There's a balance to be achieved between putting up with normal discomfort during pregnancy and recognising when something's actually wrong. You can either be blasé about it or panic at every little twinge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mel hasn't quite figured out where to draw the line yet. You'd have thought that after nearly losing both her babies she would err on the side of paranoia, but that's not really her style. So she's ignored the discomforts, complained little, and doesn't say a word about how she can no longer stand to be under the blanket in the bedroom, nor about how she's awake long into the night, sweating uncomfortably with her rising body heat.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:5338</id>
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    <title>[Apharsites: Apt 103]</title>
    <published>2006-08-28T13:35:44Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-28T13:35:44Z</updated>
    <content type="html">She let the meeting finish, never once volunteering an opinion or an emotion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she let people leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The she disappeared to 1505 for a while, where she slept fitfully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, Mel makes her way downstairs in the quiet night-shrouded building, letting herself into her apartment and curling up on her bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of her worries about her lover. A larger part tells her it's useless to worry.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:4948</id>
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    <title>grabber_fray @ 2006-08-03T10:30:00</title>
    <published>2006-08-03T09:27:24Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-03T09:27:24Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;a href="http://community.livejournal.com/apharsites/286188.html?thread=12362476#t12362476"&gt;No&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, she can't believe it. She can't, she won't. She can't let her hopes rise. She can't lose him again. She &lt;i&gt;can't trust anything&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's in no hurry when she strides outside, towards the basketball courts. After all, the people who use it most are actually in the War Council, and she knows where you can't see anything from 103.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because she's certain that there's going to be something to watch by the time she's finished with those dummies.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:4634</id>
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    <title>grabber_fray @ 2006-06-16T15:38:00</title>
    <published>2006-06-16T14:35:36Z</published>
    <updated>2006-06-16T14:35:36Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Mel doesn't keep a diary. And she doesn't says some things out loud. So some things just don't make their way out of Mel's head. Not ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;He was right. I have replaced him. I replaced him and I stand by that replacement. But every time I think about it, it tears me up inside. Because I still love him. And I hate to admit that I could love another brother as much. Everytime I think 'I wish he had been more like this', I want to kill myself.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I should have killed him. I should have killed him if it meant the deaths of Zuko, Kaylee, or little Iroh/Louise. I should have killed him because letting him live has killed more people than I can ever save.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;She's better than me. And I don't know why she insists on saying I'm anything like her. I've seen her move. It all comes natural to her. I'm just a radie freak, and I wish they'd let me be that.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm never ever going to get used to the way she stands behind him so silently. Not now I know what she can do. She suits him better, and I'm waiting for him to realise that. Assuming he hasn't already.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm going to be a horrible terrible mother. Every time I want to do something but can't, I feel myself resenting the pregnancy. And this means I'm going to resent my baby, and I don't want to resent my baby.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm scared of what will happen when we stop loving each other.&lt;/i&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:4602</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://grabber-fray.livejournal.com/4602.html"/>
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    <title>grabber_fray @ 2006-06-14T08:50:00</title>
    <published>2006-06-14T07:47:18Z</published>
    <updated>2006-06-14T07:47:18Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font size="1"&gt;[OOC: Aphartimed to after &lt;/font&gt;&lt;a href="http://community.livejournal.com/apharsites/208085.html?thread=8610261#t8610261"&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;this&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;, thanks to me being useless]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;If this were Haddyn, Mel would have gone to a tav, got blindingly drunk and beaten up some unsuspecting pump. Or a tav full of them. Under other circumstances, she might have gone to Zuko, but he's preoccupied with his illness, and doesn't need to worry about it. And what would she say to him? 'I'm sorry I saved your life'?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;You've got a choice now. Keep fighting me, or go after him, and hope you'll get him back before he dies.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's ill, anyway. More ill than even she was when she had morning sickness. She can't disturb him with this. She can't disturb anyone with this. She knows what they'll all say. Or at least, she thinks she does, because on the trip back up to 1505, she has plenty of time to rehearse everyone's reactions to her doubts in her mind. Zuko's, Sokka's, Hellboy's, Erin's. Everyone would tell her their take on it, but that's not the point. The point is she was selfish and wrong, and she should have killed him, no matter what the risk to her or her baby or the people she loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;You shouldn't have taken that risk. Not for me.&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1505 is empty. So is the whole of the 15th floor, still. Her old room is also in no real stated to live in - there's not an item of furniture that hasn't been smashed or broken by a violent fit, since she's designated it as her stress relief room. Worse of all is the bed she once shared with her &lt;em&gt;creepy dead evil&lt;/em&gt; twin brother. That's nothing more than splinters now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;You should have killed him when you had a chance.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she's not looking for violence now. Not by the time she gets there. She just crawls into the hammock she strung up the first night she arrived, taking&amp;nbsp;one pillow to support her stomach and sore breasts, and another to cram into her mouth. To cram into her mouth as she screams, silently and furiously, screams out all the guilt and frustration and anger at herself and at others. Screams until she has nothing else to give, until all she can do is melt into tears and cry until she sleeps.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:3641</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://grabber-fray.livejournal.com/3641.html"/>
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    <title>Room 103</title>
    <published>2006-05-19T08:19:43Z</published>
    <updated>2006-05-19T08:19:43Z</updated>
    <content type="html">She doesn't really know whether she shold be sulking or smiling when she comes in after talking to Sokka. They're nearly ready to go, to bring destruction down on the farm, to get rid of the threat once and for all, and to bring Erin home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she's not allowed to go. She could go. She could rain down havoc on the Magog. Even Harth. She can take them. She's one of the best fighters they have. Instead she has to stay home and play incubator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she concentrates on the first. On getting the job done. Thats' the important part. It'll be OK.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:3449</id>
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    <title>[Rm 103]</title>
    <published>2006-05-14T08:15:34Z</published>
    <updated>2006-05-14T08:15:34Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Beyond the absolute minimum neded to wash, Mel doesn't usually spend much time in the bathroom. It's in, clean, and leave, occasionaly taking the time to really enojy as shower - and she doesn't mind the cold, as she's used to it - but never ever lingering long enough to meet her own eyes in the mirror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except right now, and she stands, completely naked in front of the mirror, which she's ripped down from the wall and set on the toilet seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In profile, she's sure she can see a bulge.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:3315</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://grabber-fray.livejournal.com/3315.html"/>
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    <title>grabber_fray @ 2006-05-03T09:20:00</title>
    <published>2006-05-03T08:18:57Z</published>
    <updated>2006-05-03T08:18:57Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Mel'd kinda got used to having the bed to herself, honestly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And also to not having someone in the way when she needs to get up in the night to relieve herself &lt;i&gt;again&lt;/i&gt;. But she does so as quietly as possible, sneaking back in to the bedroom afterwards and sliding back under the comforter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she's awake now, and tied as she is, she can't get back to sleep. And she can't get comfortable either, with her rutting breasts being so sore. Carefully, Mel rolls on to her back and stares at the ceiling, trying not to think of anything much. Especially of how she thinks she needs to pee again.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:2928</id>
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    <title>grabber_fray @ 2006-04-15T04:14:00</title>
    <published>2006-04-15T03:13:44Z</published>
    <updated>2006-04-15T03:13:44Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Jesu, but she missed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She feels an didiot for doing so, but then she's there, in his room, grinning liek an idiot. She knows it won't take long before he tells her how disappointed he is in her lack of leadership skills, but righ now that doesn't matter. She's with him, and that'll do.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:2602</id>
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    <title>Note to Zuko, carried with some effort, by Pig</title>
    <published>2006-04-13T08:18:53Z</published>
    <updated>2006-04-13T08:21:51Z</updated>
    <content type="html">[Zuko]*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hey, Hotpants. Miss you.&lt;br /&gt;Meeting and council went well enough. Most people turned up. Got a few ideas, but the best eons were about the apartment building rather than rescue plans. Full report attached.&lt;br /&gt;Most interesting points was the building of the community apart from the defences. Entertainment committee being built up. I didn't know we had a school room. Lots of things for the non-fighters to be getting on with. Nearly have a proper community here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strike&gt;One thing though.&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strike&gt;I have to tell you&lt;/strike&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Biggest incident so far was with Katara. She tried to make a break for it, apparently, get back to Harth and use sex to get him to release people. She was stopped in time but there's no way of telling if she'll do that again. Sokka's &lt;strike&gt;not taking it well&lt;/strike&gt;, &lt;strike&gt;pissed&lt;/strike&gt;, &lt;strike&gt;lost&lt;/strike&gt;, hurt by it all.&lt;br /&gt;She went to the redhead Natalie for advice about that kind of thing. She tried to talk her out of it, but didn't tell anyone until Katara had already left. She was stopped in time, but I lost my temper at Natalie when I found out. Broke her wrist.&lt;br /&gt;Apologised later, because it's all my fault. I don't know what she'll do from there.&lt;br /&gt;No excuse there, I was just mad. Sorry, I've let you down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you. Miss you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M.&lt;br /&gt;xx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. That Japanese girl I mentioned before? Kind of follows me around sometimes. But she carries swords and is confident.&amp;nbsp;We may have a new fighter here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attached are&amp;nbsp;summaries of the meetings written out in Fire Nation script, which form the bulk of the delivery and have cause the tiny owl some trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;font size="1"&gt;His name is written in the Fire Nation script, in a careful and inexperienced hand. And it's only from context that it can be distinguished from something insulting.&lt;/font&gt;</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:2390</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://grabber-fray.livejournal.com/2390.html"/>
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    <title>War Council, Rm 103</title>
    <published>2006-04-12T14:49:37Z</published>
    <updated>2006-04-12T15:45:07Z</updated>
    <content type="html">It's still strange to her, to be here without him. It's hard trying to get out of the mindset of 'his room' and think of it as 'their room', even if all her stuff's finally down here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she sets out the room, like before, with water for everyone, and sits cross-legged on the table as she waits for people to come in, still biting back on her own nervousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Japanese girl is standing against the wall behind her again. That's beginning to freak her out.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:2122</id>
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    <title>grabber_fray @ 2006-04-04T09:55:00</title>
    <published>2006-04-04T08:53:18Z</published>
    <updated>2006-04-04T08:53:18Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;The trouble with sleeping with a Firebender, is the whole 'rising with the sun' thing. Mel hadn't really minded before. She's never exactly had eight hours a night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But recently getting up has become harder and harder, even when she can't help but be roused by the stirring prince next to her, even when she's expected for training. She just wants to roll over and go right back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;font size="1"&gt;Don't wanna get up yet&lt;/font&gt;."&lt;/p&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:1966</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://grabber-fray.livejournal.com/1966.html"/>
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    <title>grabber_fray @ 2006-03-28T07:30:00</title>
    <published>2006-03-28T06:30:57Z</published>
    <updated>2006-03-28T06:30:57Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;i&gt;"You're weak, Mel. You're weak, and you can never protect them. Everything you love will be broken, shattered -- they will die screaming, because you cannot protect them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She knows it's true, that's the worst part. She can't fight lurks. She can't fight Harth. And every blow he lands reminds her of that. There's nothing she can do to stop him from killing every last one of them. Starting with him.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mel's breath catches with every &lt;i&gt;kick, every punch, every time any part of himm comes incontact with her. Over, and over again until even her skeleton can't withstand the strain and she begins to hear the cracks as bones give way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This would be easier, if you'd just lay down and DIE, Mel. Why are you fighting it? Do you really think you can stop me?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her body jerks under the hail, which never seems to let up, just keeps coming, until one sudden sob catches in her throat hard enough to drag her suddenly out of memory into the sweat-soaked blankets of Zuko's bed.</content>
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    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:1658</id>
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    <title>Mel's Injuries post Harth-fight</title>
    <published>2006-03-09T02:31:35Z</published>
    <updated>2006-03-09T07:47:27Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For someone who's taken a severe beating and had a building fall on her, Mel's in pretty good shape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's not saying much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Broken bones everywhere: most long bones fractured at least twice, cracked ribs, some spinal damage. Her skin hair and clothes are caked with blood, both hers and dried Magog. A split lip, a bloody nose, no actual bite marks, but two slices across her belly - the first significantly deeper than the second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, profuse bleeding from a head injury. And she's unconscious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She'll stabilise easily though; Slayer healing is good for that at least. Breathing shallowly and steadily, most of the bones will heal within days even without treatment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't say the same for the coma though.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:1378</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://grabber-fray.livejournal.com/1378.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://grabber-fray.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=1378"/>
    <title>grabber_fray @ 2006-03-07T09:00:00</title>
    <published>2006-03-07T08:58:46Z</published>
    <updated>2006-03-09T02:32:24Z</updated>
    <content type="html">She didn't look back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She just climbed down the building and ran into the city. Sure, she has no idea where he is, but he's not in there, with the people who want to hurt him, and that's good enough for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe she should be afraid of the Magog, but she really isn't. She's fought enough of them recently not to crae one way or another about those beasts. All she wants to do is find Harth, and get to him before the lurks she knows are out here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the hours wear on, she continues searching.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:861</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://grabber-fray.livejournal.com/861.html"/>
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    <title>grabber_fray @ 2006-03-02T08:54:00</title>
    <published>2006-03-02T08:52:19Z</published>
    <updated>2006-03-02T08:52:19Z</updated>
    <content type="html">This is better than anything Mel's had before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that that's saying much. Her experience before has been... not the best, really. Raw, physical, emotionless. Here, there's feelings involved, even though she's not ready yet to actually explore what those feelings are, it makes this so much more enjoyable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's a content and happy Mel that flops tiredly to the makeshift mattress and rolls over to look at him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tired yet?"</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:grabber_fray:559</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://grabber-fray.livejournal.com/559.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://grabber-fray.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=559"/>
    <title>[Aparsites: Dreaming]</title>
    <published>2006-02-20T07:20:58Z</published>
    <updated>2006-02-20T07:20:58Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;i&gt;His hand is cold as her fingers close over it. The night air is edging towards bitter these days, but even as he's wraped up warm, she's happy in a short T-shirt as she runs along the rooftops, grinning with the borrowed heat of being fresh from the grab. This is home, this is safe, this is right. Even as he falls, screaming, she'll catch him, because that's what she does, always catch him, because that's what she does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're lucky I got two hands, 'cause if it was you or the food..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You. Are the the food."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nights that sight of his twisted defomred face jerks her out of sleep, those are the good ones. Not tonight. Tonight she has to live it again. All again. In every detail, jerking in her sleep as her breath comes quicker and harder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;His grip on her neck. His nail ripping through the flesh of her cheek, tossing her away like some sort of doll, and Harth, just standing there, staring, not running. Letting him grab him by the coat, pulling him towards him even as that other hand closes over Mel's own face, dangles her over the edge of the roof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the sound of his teeth when he tears out her brother's throat. Casting her off like she doesn't matter, sending her scr&lt;b&gt;ea&lt;/i&gt;ming&lt;/b&gt; into wakefulness, dripping in sweat, hoarse from the scream, shaking in cold, dread terror.</content>
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