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"That's a really great idea, Sai." Alli exclaimed. She didn't want to admit that she'd been half-hoping for Mardil to show up for that exact purpose. She didn't want to deal with him at all, but he was gorgeous and she'd had malicious plans of using him. He was hot... there was no way to get around it. She could handle some arm candy in the form of the ever-arrogant Heir of Stewardship (here she grumbled mentally about the state of politics and the Heir of Elendil Administration in Gondor) if it meant that she could completely take advantage of him. Who cared if it was ethically sketchy to use people and to be with a guy based on his looks. After all of his attempts to kill her and her friends, it's not like she'd be with him for anything else. But she was willing to bet that if she dangled Mardil on a string, Leggyboppers would come a'runnin'. But he'd gone mysteriously missing and Alli was bored with waiting. She considered drugging him and dragging him along but that struck her as too much like what he'd done to her in the tank. That would never do. Talk about hypocrisy.
"So that... Harry Potter actor kid... Yeah... he's pretty cute. I can't imagine him breaking Harry's nose though... but he's so deviously cute in that cloak-swishing "I'm supposed to be meeeeean" sort of way. I bet these girls have monster crushes on him. Let's go."
After a quick set of trials and tribulations including, but not limited to, almost getting hit by a biker gang clad in hobbit-skin (well... actually, as hobbit-hunting had been outlawed, they had on plastic hobbit-skin, more commonly known as plobbit, the Mordorian equivilant to that which had already been sent there, or at least should have been, pleather) and riding mopeds.
Very unexpectedly, Alli tripped again and gave herself a nice bruise. She laughed it off, feeling more affectionate toward the world than usual, and poking the tender spot a few times to test just how much it actually hurt. A lot, she learned quickly. She looked at the bag of refuse she had tripped over and saw a foot coming out of it.
"Sai, there's somebody in there! Help me!"
And so they sliced open the bag with Alli's pocket knife to discover a foul smelling teenage boy, golden-white haired and beautiful, with a delicate sneer and a lot of teabags and banana peels stuck to his clothing. He wasn't moving. Alli rolled him over with Sai's help and they saw that he was clad in black robes adorned with a snake and a bit of green and silver.
"Crap. I think he's dead."
"I'm not dead."
"Hm... I think he's alive."
"It doesn't feel like it."
"He doesn't look very alive."
"They attacked me."
"Who?"
"Those damned wolf wannabes. Badger my posterior, those goon "pacifists" and "loyal" tools huffled and they puffled and they blew my house down. And then shoved me into a bin."
"That's rather upsetting."
"Of course it is."
"Do you want to come with us?"
"Where are you going?"
"Wherever we're going, it's better than being half-conscious in a bin, no?"
"Good point. So where are we going?"
"To steal Orlando Bloom's fangirls."
"Oh, how are we going to do that?"
"It's a surprise."
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