Madd
She/Her
27
April 1
Circester
Asexual
Tackle Shop Manager
Grunt
Someone's always criticizing. You might as well do what the fuck you want.
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Madeline McKenna
Longer Than Eight Seconds [Gerry]
POSTED ON Apr 7, 2024 1:57:27 GMT
[attr="class","samjertop"][attr="class","samjer"] [attr="class","samjermain"] You know what? She didn’t even like alcohol. Beer tasted gross. Those fruity drinks might as well be smoothies. Hangovers sucked. But her friends drank like camels, and she fell into line. It didn’t help that drunk her let the facade slip. That biker girl persona edged something closer to the truth. There was more vulnerability there. Fortunately, Yakuza was happy to down her drinks when no one was looking. But, when she decided to meet up with Gerry, she couldn’t think of anywhere else. They met in ye olde tavern, so it felt right to meet up at one. Not wanting to be seen as prissy, she looked for a place that was on the rough-and-tumble side of things. She also didn’t want it too close to home. The last thing Madeline wanted is for one of the rangers she met to embarrass her. When she found this western place—surrounded by a fake farm—she couldn’t turn it down. Now, she was sitting at the bar with her BFF. The blush of a few beers was sneaking into her cheeks. Those shoulders—normally tense—were lowered and relaxed. As another beer was laid in front of her, the redhead grinned. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a twenty. “How much do I have to pay you to ‘ride the bull’?.” Copper eyes wink as a lopsided smile threatens. After a minute, she points to the corral in the corner. Instead of a typical mechanical bull, a Tauros lays bored at its center.
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