BLU's Li'l Cowgirl

the-dile:

scoutzammy:

the-dile:

scoutzammy said: *casually sneaks up and pokes his cheek*

—-

-looks up- Well aint you a familiar face!! Er…..Zoom was it?

 

 

*Laughs* Zoom? Well Ah guess that’s close ‘nough. Got two letters right. It’s Zam.

-waves hand- Yea yea! S’what I said!! Zam…. -stares at the tv-

Mind tellin’ me what this is exactly -points at the TV-

*Shakes head with a chuckle* Uh-huh, sure…

It’s a TV. People watch it fer entertainment. Most everythin’ playin’ on it is fictional, unless it’s the news or somethin’.

the-dile:

scoutzammy said: *casually sneaks up and pokes his cheek*

—-

-looks up- Well aint you a familiar face!! Er…..Zoom was it?

 

 

*Laughs* Zoom? Well Ah guess that’s close ‘nough. Got two letters right. It’s Zam.

askmontanna:

“You know I’m just trying to push your buttons.” Monty smiled softly at her friend, looking away. She was only trying to push her friend’s buttons. She knew Zamira could make her own choices.

Damien smirked at his sister as Zamira wrapped her arms around him, he held her back, one hand on her waist, the other over the other one. “Problem, Montanna?” 

“Maybe try preserving it somehow? Like between the pages of a book…” Damien mused aloud. “Sprinkle it in a little water first so it doesn’t crack and fall apart.”

“Yeah yeah, Ah know…” Zamira muttered, folding her arms over her chest stubbornly. She looked like a child… Then again, she almost always looked like a child… The girl sighed, looking over at Monty with a smile. “Ye’re silly, y’know that?”

The little Scout couldn’t see Damien’s expression, though she had an idea. She’d know the twins long enough. With a chuckle she gently squeezed the man, patting him on the back. Dorks, the both of them. But that was why she loved them, wasn’t it? “Ah swear, sometimes Ah feel like the younger siblin’, an’ sometimes Ah feel like the mama ‘round ya two,” she shook her head slightly, though her smile was playful.

“Huh… Ah never thought o’ that. Does it work? The water?” she arched an eyebrow curiously. Zamira’d never even heard of doing that. Back home once the flowers dried, they dried. Nothing you could do to save them… Then again, she did live with a bunch of men. What would they know about preserving flowery gifts?

askmontanna:

“‘Cmon! You don’t wanna have Christmas and Thanksgiving together as legal family?” Monty lightly pushed the girl over, snickering a bit. “Fine, be that way, ya goofball.” Zamira’d still be her sister, legally or not, they were too close not to be. The idea of her marrying Dame was nothing but a joke… One Monty found entertaining; so, of course, she’d tease Zamira about it.

“I’m sorry, Miss Zamira.” Damien lowered his head in shame. If he had a hat on, he’d be taking it off to pay his respects to the bacon he charred. 

“Well, I said, ‘It’s been a great experience, my beautiful cowgirl.’ And it has! It’s a challenging language, but Montressor’s helping me out.” He chuckled softly before continuing. “It’s fun talking with him about my little sister behind her back-“

“Oi, just because you popped your fucking head out first doesn’t make me younger than you- Wait. What did you say!?” Monty leaped over Zamira, landing in the girl’s lap, pulling her twin into a headlock, noogieing him fairly hard. “What kinds of things do you say about me? Speak!”

“Augh! Oww! Darn, Montanna! Nothing! I mean it! I was- Oof! Kidding!” Damien gasped for air as Monty let go of him. He slumped against the cowgirl beside him whispering the words, “Hold me while I catch my breath?” He was joking, of course, but the wheeze that followed was very real.

“Well, Monty gave you the lighter, might as well give you something myself. Might not have lasted as long as hers would have, but it’s the thought, yes?” Damien returned the smile, ignoring the voice in his head telling him to caress the cowgirl’s soft cheek.

“Legal family…?” Zamira arched a questioning eyebrow, “Since when does it matter if family’s legal?” she sighed, shaking her head. With closed eyes she allowed her head to thunk back onto the bed. Sometimes she wondered about that woman.

She laughed, waving her hand dismissively. “Aw, it dun matter that much. Not the first time bacon’s been burnt, won’t be the last. Coulda been worse,” she chuckled.

“Well that makes a lot more sense in English,” she smiled, but her face was soon transformed by surprise as Monty landed in her lap. She half-squeaked half-shrieked, not sure how to respond to the twins fighting on top of her.

Joking or not, Zamira was mildly concerned. Damien would be fine, naturally, but the part of her that helped raise her family was demanding he be given attention. “Monty, c’mon now. Why’d ya have t’ do that in my lap o’ all places?” she asked, arms wrapping around Damien protectively. One hand was placed against his head, holding it against her much like a mother comforting a child.

“Lasted? Ya say that like they’re gone. Ah still got ‘em. Dried out an’ preserved in my suitcase at the moment, back in my room. They’re bound t’ get destroyed at some point, but Ah’m tryin’ my best t’ make ‘em last,” she gently pushed his shoulder, “Ah ain’t gonna let yer gift waste away jus’ like that.”

askmontanna:

“I sure can’t. But I’m sure you can.” Monty leaned in and kissed the girl’s cheek for the umpteenth time, gently scratching the girl’s back with a soft smile. “What? You don’t think you’d want me as a sister-in-law? I’m HURT!” Monty pretended to swoon dramatically, a hurt hand on her heart.

She held up her hands defensively, backing off quite a bit. Damn these two, they’re  better for each other than they think… Montanna thought silently. Fuckers even think alike. She lowered her hands, leaning back a little, keeping her eyes on them, reminding herself to not make anymore comments of that nature. Aloud, at least.

“Yeah. Bacon of all things…” Damien sheepishly looked away, scratching the back of his neck, gently gripping Monty’s bed sheets. “As for the Italian…” He looked down at the brunette, with a kind smile. “E ‘stata una bellissima esperienza, la mia bella cowgirl.” Damien took a risk and rested his hand on hers. His twin stood still, biting her tongue as not to make any comments.

“You’re very welcome, Zamira.” Damien removed his hand from hers and rested it back on his lap. “I thought the flower’s symbolism was a good match for your situation.”

The girl let out a slight groan. So she was left to teach the bacon-burner how to cook. Excellent… “Ah’ll do my best, but dun expect much,” she muttered. She had a feeling there would be many more fires started… “Ye’re already my sister, why d’ya need a marriage? Bein’ a sister ain’t good enough?” the girl obviously wasn’t buying the act. Then again, it was so obvious. And it was Monty.

Zamira huffed, eyes narrowed suspiciously at the woman. You didn’t have to know Monty for long to know that, though she may keep silent, she was still thinking things you did not approve of. Especially when it was something like this. After a moment the Pyro was released from her gaze. She had made her point.

“Tsk tsk. Of all thangs ya gotta burn,” she shook her head again. That would be the first lesson. Cooking bacon properly was majorly important, after all. No breakfast was complete without it! “Uh… Huh…” Zamira looked up at Damien with a very confused expression, before laughing suddenly. “Y’know, it’d have a much better effect if Ah knew what the heck ya jus’ said, darlin’,” she reached up, gently patting his shoulder. You tried, Damien. You tried.

“Ah, c’mon now. Like Ah’d ever ferget ya. That’s purdy much impossible,” she smiled up at him, “But it was sweet o’ ya all the same.”

askmontanna:

“Mayhaps you should take a whack at it whilst you’re here, I’m not patient enough to teach him…” Monty scoffed, running her fingers through the short part of her hair in the back, scratching the back of her neck, too. “Poor bastard’ll have to marry a woman who can cook to survive. Maybe that’s why he follows me around.” The brunette let out a light snicker. “Hey, can you cook? Maybe I can have you as a sister-in-law one day.” Another snicker followed by a wink.

Even if Monty didn’t live anywhere near Zamira, she’d pay her visits as often as she could. Maybe She’d bring Jace along with, let him chase after the chickens or something. Monty had never been around a farm, she was used to the city, so horses, cows, and chickens were foreign creatures to them; she had never had a fascination with them at a young age like most girls.

“Hey, madame.” Damien gently took Zamira’s hand and kissed the back of it, keeping his eyes locked with hers before placing it back on her knee. Montanna rolled her eyes.

“Goddammit, you two. Just make out already.” Monty threw her hands up Into the air, rolling her eyes, earning a rare scowl from the gentleman. 

“Hush, you.” He said sternly, his expression softening as he looked back at Zamira. “Yes, I did miss you, my dear.” The image of the forget-me-nots in her vase came back to him. Damien quickly shook the image out of his head to get on a happier train of thought. “And I’ve been well, aside from creating a small fire in the kitchen which I’m sure my sister has briefed you on.”  A snicker from his twin confirmed his suspicions. 

“How have you been, Miss Zamira?”

“Ah dunno… Maybe Ah’ll try, if ya think ya can’t do it,” Zamira sighed, playing with the brim of her hat. Teaching him to cook probably wouldn’t be that difficult if she tried, though she had a feeling there might be a few disasters. She chuckled at Monty’s mention of Damien marrying a woman who can cook, but it was cut off when the idea of her marrying the man popped up. Zamira blushed slightly, looking away. “Yeah, Ah can cook. Ah dunno anythin’ ‘bout bein’ a sister-in-law, though,” she muttered.

Monty didn’t just earn a scowl from Damien, she earned a glare from Zamira. The girl had thought she made it clear she didn’t want to risk any awkward emotions between the two of them.

“Yeah, Ah’ve been briefed. Burnin’ bacon? Really?” Zamira tsked, shaking her head. Cowgirl is disappoint. She laughed slightly, though. “Ah may have t’ teach ya myself. Monty’s jus’ ‘bout given up on ya… Ah’ve also heard that ye’re learnin’ Italian. How’s that goin’?” she quirked an eyebrow curiously.

She hummed slightly in thought, looking up at the ceiling. How had she been? “Good, Ah’d say. A wee bit lonely without my favorite REDs, but that’s been taken care of,” she smiled. “By the way, thank ya fer the flowers.”

askmontanna:

“… I kinda gave up on him after that. I’ll attempt to teach him how to do it again later.” Monty stretched, moaning a little. Breakfast was all Damien was good for, aside from Mac ‘n Cheese. Pasta was another thing he could manage, so spaghetti with sauce was an other thing he could cook. It still was a limit in her eyes. 

“Texas…” Monty chewed on her tongue a little, it was a far cry from Idaho, but then again, maybe she needed a change in life. Damien was like a loyal puppy, if Monty went somewhere, Dame followed. He felt the need to watch over his little sister, not that he didn’t trust her, he just feared for her, seeing as she loved to live in the moment. 

Monty watched Zamira’s facial expressions as Dame poked his face in through the door. “Well, you’re an impatient little bastard. Fine, come on in.” Damien snickered and closed the door, sitting on Monty’s bed on the other side of Zamira. 

“Sorry Monty, but you’re not keeping her all to yourself. Didn’t you learn anything about sharing in kindergarten?” He reached over, snaking his hand behind Zamira to pinch his sister’s cheek, slyly resting his hand behind the Scout, making sure to keep a respectable distance from her bum.

“Guess not.” She frowned, nipping the air in front of his hand as he pulled away. “Well, Zamira, I guess Dame decided to crash our lesbian love-fest. Hope you don’t mind.” 

Damien’s face lit up with blush for a moment at the thought of his sister and his crush possibly- Well… He knew she was joking, but it got to him, and he quickly tried to control his blush, looking away as his sister snickered, proud of her work.

“C’mon, ya can’t give up on yer own brother. Even if he might fail over an’ over,” Zamira chuckled, shaking her head. If his own sister gave up on teaching him how to cook, she could only wonder how Damien would survive in the future. Poor boy…

She nodded slightly, watching Monty silently. As far as Zamira was concerned, Monty deserved to live somewhere that she belonged. Somewhere that wasn’t so… So… Different. On the complete opposite of the spectrum. She’d never survive working on the cowgirl’s beloved farm, and Zamira doubted that Monty would be able to work at any of the businesses in town… The girl let out a defeated sigh.

“Well howdy stranger,” Zamira grinned up at Damien, reaching up to poke his cheek when he sat down. She couldn’t help but laugh at the twins, shaking her head at them. She felt like a toy, listening to Damien tell Monty to share.

“Not much of a love-fest considerin’ ya nearly made me laugh t’ death. More like murder by ticklin’,” she huffed, crossing her arms. The girl scooted closer to Damien, as if he could do anything to protect her, and promptly stuck her tongue out at Monty. Luckily for Damien, she was too distracted to notice his blush.

“So how’ve ya been? Ya miss me?” Zamira asked, looking up at the male twin.

askmontanna:

“I have tried, he managed to set bacon on fire.” Damien chuckled softly from his room as Monty continued. “I wanted to help him make breakfast. I made the pancakes, and left him in charge of three strips of bacon. I didn’t know it was possible to start a fire with an electric stove.”*

“Well, I’ve never fancied living in York. I spent a week with her, living homeless, and she spent a week with me, living, well, ‘normally’. Needless to say, dumpster-diving for day-old chow mein isn’t ideal, or fun. I mean, sure she can easily pick up some fresh produce from some people for cheap- Eh,what I mean to say is, even if I did live by her or if she did live by me, it wouldn’t be fun. Ya get… Looks if you look like me, you know? And trust me, Rat’s hell bent on stayin’ in York, unless she’s only gone for a short time.” Rat was exceptionally paranoid that her tunnel-mare and lover Aaron would somehow screw up and get the cops to the abandoned subway station they lived on and get his ass in jail again. She didn’t mind keeping an eye on him, but she did have the worry in the back of her head.

Now, Monty wasn’t the type to pull pranks, but she did like good ones. So the idea of Zamira coming up with something to get back at her was very curiosity piquing. 

[*: I have seen it done, it is possible to start a fire with an electric stove.]

“… How…” her brow furrowed as she tried to understand this new information, shaking her head. “Bacon… On fire… On an electric stove… Oh, Damien, why…” she sighed, rubbing her temples. The poor man… “Did ya try any other time? Or jus’ once?”

“Oh… Well Ah guess that makes sense…” Zamira nodded slightly, emitting another sigh. “Ya sure ya’d be comfortable in Texas, though? My home is basically the opposite of ya. Ya’d fit in even less there,” she began to chew her lip, “An’ what ‘bout Damien? Ah doubt he’d wanna live down South. Ah know the two o’ ya lived apart, but leavin’ him alone seems wrong…” she flopped her head back, looking up at the ceiling. “Then again, this is all a long time in the future. Who knows what it’ll be like if/when we get outta here…”

The cowgirl glanced over at Monty, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. Clearly the girl was trying to come up with some evil plan. Something possibly involving a string of events that might have Zamira rolling on the floor with laughter, while at the risk of being slaughtered. But, what was this plan? Shhh, it’s a secret.

askmontanna:

“He can practice being a gentleman all he wants, yet he can’t cook a simple egg without getting fucking salmonella.” Monty snickered, shaking her head at her brother. She could cook up a family sized meal, and he couldn’t fry a goddamn egg. Something about that baffled her to no end. She prayed the woman he married knew how to cook, or didn’t mine take-out nightly.

“Well,” Monty draped her arm over her friend’s shoulder, “If that is the case, I’ll just move next door to your family, or nearby at least. I ain’t letting you go, kid.” Monty nuzzled Zamira’s temple with her forehead. “Dun have many friends ‘xcept for Rat outside of the base.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Monty leaned back and crossed her arms, also sticking her tongue out at the brunette, chuckling softly.

Zamira laughed again, biting her knuckle in a useless attempt to hold it in. “Why dun ya try teachin’ him, then?” she asked after a bit, arching an eyebrow. If books couldn’t teach the boy how to cook, then certainly a person could, right? Zamira had known how to cook for… Well, she couldn’t remember how long. 11ish years or so. It couldn’t be that hard to teach someone like Damien.

“Ya sure ‘bout that?” Zamira asked with a slight laugh, “Last time ya were down there, it was rather… Eventful,” she snickered slightly. Eventful was one way to put it. “Why dun ya live by Rat, then? No need leavin’ her alone. She’s known ya longer,” she tilted her head slightly. “Ah mean, Ah’d love fer ya t’ be close, but…” she trailed off, not sure where she was going with that sentence. The girl sighed slightly.

“Mrrff,” she huffed, looking away. Yeah, she’d figure something out. Eventually. She doubted she’d get back at Monty before she left again, unless she found a way to use food against the woman. Cookies with peppers in them were always a favorite of the Scout’s… Nah, she’d already done that. Long time ago.

askmontanna:

“Got a problem with me standing over a stove and cooking a steak for Montressor and Dame? Trust me, it’s better than either of them attempting to cook. As learned as Dame is, he can’t cook for shit.” Poor bastard. Damien, still listening in, shook his head. It was true,he couldn’t cook, no matter how many books he read. He snickered lightly to himself.

“Oh, yeah. Someday. Maybe we all should run away when Montressor and Mylene do. Change our names. Start new lives. Try to forget what’s happened…” Monty sighed, gently running her thumb over Zamira’s cheek. “Whatever it takes. And whatever fucking base you’re at, I’m kidnapping you and taking you with me.” Monty took the Scout’s hand, lacing their fingers together, swearing to the universe to take the brunette with her. She would hunt down her whereabouts and rescue her from the life of war.

“I know, I know. Problem is, that I’m not ticklish, unlike you.” Monty finally freed Zamira, sitting beside her and letting her breathe again, giving her forehead a kiss. “Take as long as ya need, babe.” 

Zamira laughed, trying to picture either man cooking. Somehow it just didn’t feel right. “Yeah yeah, Ah get ya. Cookin’ ain’t somethin’ ya learn from a book, ya need practice,” she chuckled, shaking her head. Now the mental images wouldn’t go away.

The Scout frowned slightly, glancing away. “Monty… Ah dun plan on leavin’ unless Ah have t’. Right now it’s the only way Ah can make sure my family can afford the bills…” she said quietly, “Ah dun want ya t’ leave without me, but if ye’re goin’ ‘fore Ah’m ready… Ah won’t be taggin’ along,” she sighed. “An’ even if Ah do leave, Ah’ll jus’ be goin’ back home. Back t’ Pops an’ them.”

She huffed, crossing her arms and curling into a slight ball upon her release. “Yeah yeah, Ah know. Ah’ll figure somethin’ out… Maybe Ah can rope Damien int’ helpin’ me out somehow…” she muttered the last part before sticking her tongue out at Monty. How dare she take advantage of the fact that Zamira was probably one of the most ticklish people alive.

askmontanna:

“Honestly dunno. Mayhaps ya should ask him?” Monty nudged Zamira with a wink. “An you do have a point there, his languages is my cooking…” She leaned forward and rested her chin on her knee, tilting her head to face the girl. 

“He had read all the books he can on ‘gentlemanly etiquette’, so he’d be breaking his own rules if he wasn’t sweet. He figures there’s too many assholes out there, so why not be one of the good guys?” It was a very smart thing to do. Yes. there were far too many assholes out there. Sad thing was that he chose to be on the battlefield to watch over Monty instead of being out there and having hordes of women after him, being sweet to them all. He did pick one woman to be sweet to here, though. Zamira.

“I need a magic word, babe!” Montanna Jace Langley snickered deviously, grabbing Zamira’s hands and pulling up her shirt, licking her stomach than raspberrying it furiously before finally letting her go. Monty was lucky that she wasn’t ticklish, but she’d probably get a fucking fearsome noogie out of this.

“Ah’ll ask when ya give me the chance t’ talk t’ everyone else,” Zamira rolled her eyes at the wink. Was that really necessary? … Then again, it was Monty. Everything needed a wink. “Heh, cookin’…” she chuckled, smirking slightly. Just picturing Monty standing in front of a stove was comical, if mildly concerning. After all, it did have fire involved.

Zamira hummed, nodding in agreement. She had yet to meet a man who could beat Damien when it came to being a gentleman, and she doubted she ever would out here. This really was no place for him… “Monty, d’ya think the two o’ ya will ever leave this place? Settle down somewhere else?” she asked suddenly, looking over at the Pyro.

She never had the chance to reply, any words she was about to say turning into another shriek. “Monty ye’re so dead when I get free!” she shouting through a wild giggle-fit. Oh, if Zamira had her way, Monty was in for way more than just a noogie. She wasn’t sure how, but she’d find a way to get revenge.

askmontanna:

“Oh, yeah, I have no doubt he’ll be fluent. Knowing him, he’ll pick up another language once he’s mastered that one. I mean, how BORED do you have to be to pick up a language on the battlefield? Let alone multiple ones?” Monty shook her head. For all you know, you could die out here, and he’s learning a language? She didn’t understand her twin at all. Sometimes she wondered if her parents had lied and just told them that because they looked alike. 

“Nah, kid. Just expect him to be sweet ta’ ya on occasion.” The half-brunette snickered. She knew Dame still had a soft spot for the girl, but she’d never tell Zamira, she’d let her figure it out on her own. Not that Damien would try to hide it. She saw him casting glances at her when she WAS at the base, and she knew why he didn’t say goodbye to her: he literally LOCKED himself in his room and didn’t come out. She couldn’t hear if he was crying, but she knew he was mourning in his own way. 

The forget-me-nots. Damien, with his vast knowledge of books surely knew how to grow ‘em and keep them alive until they paid her a visit. That’s where he got them. That’s what that envelope had. Forget-me-not seeds. That sly bastard.

Monty leaned in, licking the girl’s neck and promptly raspberrying the wet spot, cherishing her struggling against her. Poor dear couldn’t escape, and Monty wouldn’t let her.

Yeah, I got you. Monty smiled sweetly to herself, gently running her fingers through Zamira’s hair. She really loved the girl, without an ounce of homosexual feeling in it. There wasn’t a day that went by that Montanna didn’t miss Zamira, and now that she had her back, even for a short while, she would spend as much time with her as she could. Even if it meant chasing her brother away.

“Ah wonder what he’ll decide t’ learn next…” Zamira mused out loud, staring up at the ceiling as if it would tell her the answer. “Ya can’t blame him. There ain’t much t’ do ‘round here when ye’re not fightin’. He’s gotta keep himself occupied somehow,” she shrugged slightly. Monty had a point, but Zamira understood why Damien chose to learn languages. If she found something interesting enough to learn, she’d be doing the same thing.

The Scout sighed slightly, rolling her eyes at Monty’s snicker. “Damien’s always sweet, so that ain’t nothin’ new,” she muttered, stretching. It was true, Damien always seemed like such a sweetheart to her. Monty wasn’t the only one that questioned if the twins were actually related, though Zamira had learned to accept that families can be quite different. Her own personal experience had taught her that, just because you’re related, doesn’t mean you act the same way.

High-pitched giggling was all little Zamira could manage, still struggling like crazy. If she really wanted to get free she could probably find a way, but it had been a while since she’d had moments like this with Monty. It was worth the torture. “Monty ye’re ticklin’ me, stop!” she managed to squeak out.

Zamira sighed contently, perfectly happy for the moment. She’d have to distance herself from Monty in a while, but for now she could allow this to happen. She had missed the Pyro while she was at the other base, practically confining herself to her room for the most part. But, as much as she wanted to stay with Monty, there were other people she at least wanted to say hello to.

askmontanna:

“Just give him a ‘Hey, I’m back!’ punch. I think he’ll get the message.” The punkish brunette winked at her cowgirl friend. That damn Scout had it coming, anyway. Why not remind him not to mess with Monty, Dame, or the RED base with a friendly punch in his broken ribs?

“Either way, I got shit from him.” Monty shrugged. She didn’t hate getting letter, but she didn’t really like writing them. I was one of the reasons that she didn’t really respond to her father’s letters. Dame was a good kid and responded. Goody two-shoes.

“Nah, just Italian so far. And he’s not entirely fluent, ‘s what he’s got Montressor for.” He had offered to teach Monty a language, but she wasn’t too interested. She’d had four years of fucking Spanish in High school, and she barely remembered anything from those four years, except that the teacher was a fucking creeper. “Don’t worry, love. He’s packed up his feelings and moved on. Although you being back may bring some feelings back. ‘S why he got ya the ‘forget-me-nots’. And because he’s a sap.” Monty gently pat the cowgirl on the shoulder.

“Problem, babe?” Monty pinned Zamira’s arms down with her legs, knocked her hat off again, and sat on her chest, vigorously running her fingers through her hair, laughing loudly. “Save a horse, ride a cowgirl!” 

“Nope, you’re staying with me. They’ll have to pry my cold corpse off’a you.” Monty loosened her grip on Zamira and turned it into a hug. “I just got’cha back. Guess I better cherish my time with you.” Monty leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Now, Monty wast bi-sexual, she just showed affection through kisses, regardless of gender. She’d kiss Montressor, but she had a feeling that if she got within any ‘unprofessional’ range of him, she’d syringe-gun her to death. One needle at a time.

Zamira chuckled, shaking her head. Well, technically she had no idea the Scout was injured. Nobody back at BLU had told her anything… “Ah think Ah might do that,” she smirked, stretching slightly. She’d end up feeling bad for putting him through pain, but it would be worth the small amount of guilt. That’s what he gets for messing with this girl’s friends.

She hummed slightly, not sure how to reply. To be honest, she was mildly shocked by the knowledge that Leroy wrote letters to people. He didn’t seem like the type who could sit down long enough to focus on writing to someone. Then again, the boy was full of surprises… Zamira chuckled quietly to herself.

“Well, practice makes perfect. He’ll be fluent soon ‘nough, jus’ give him a couple o’ weeks,” she smiled. Damien… Probably the only one she knew out here who took the time to learn something like a foreign language. If anyone could do it, it was him. “Ah’m glad t’ hear that… Though Ah hope me bein’ here won’t do anythin’. It was bad ‘nough the first time… Ah dun want it t’ happen again…” she sighed, chewing her bottom lip. Now she was worried.

“Yeah Ah got a pro- Monty!” another shriek was followed by insane giggling as the Scout tried to escape. With her arms pinned she had no choice but the kick and flail her legs desperately, and uselessly. “Dang it!” Zamira be thankful she’s not giving you a noogie.

“Well Ah’d prefer they not have t’ pry any sort o’ corpse off me, ‘specially not yers,” she huffed, hugging Monty back, “Ah know, Ah know. It could be worse, though. At least ya get me fer a month or so, instead o’ a couple o’ days,” she smiled apologetically, proceeding to bury her face in Monty’s shoulder.