[ SHE GOT IT RIGHT ON THE NOSE. And right when he says that, Shi Qingxuan is going to get. An INCREDIBLE memory. Of Hellsalem's Lot, an Otherworld-integrated version of New York, going into ABSOLUTE CHAOS. Cars are crashing, an airplane fell. A wild monster suddenly passed out in the middle of the sky and fell down on top of a restaurant, crushing the building. Pipes back up and explode, cracking asphalt, flooding streets. Steven watches as a bunch of debris just rams into a white-haired shithead of a man next to him, who is left standing there looking absolutely stunned as a stream of blood pours out of a fragment of concrete stuck in his forehead, comically.
No kidding. And even worse is that Abrahms only shows up when he really has to -- meaning, we need an outside, more experienced voice in on the matter.
[ You know they only call a guy like THAT when they REALLY have to. Also he's totally just being disrespectful by not calling him by his first name or Mr. Abrahms or anything but it's fine, he can't hear him. ]
Oh Christ, no. I finally got to fuck off and stay away from Abrahms when we ended up settling in Hellsalem's Lot, you know how many times I've probably narrowly avoided death just by standing next to that guy?
We definitely make him stay away from us if we can help it.
[ His smile turns a little melancholy. He remembers when he asked that question himself to somebody else. ]
Maybe you should try visiting Hellsalem's Lot one day, if the possibilities allow it. [ Ha-ha. ] I don't think I could sufficiently describe it in words.
Then I can relate to that. It should be fine, then -- especially since you'd be considered more or less a civilian, so at least you wouldn't get roped into the same shit I do.
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[ He laughs, just a little. ]
I don't have anyone testing me, but there is one man in my peripheral who's just known for causing shit. By accident.
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[she's curious... she wants to know...]
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[ He was smiling, but look at him. It looks like the soul has immediately left his eyes even as he just thinks about this man. ]
His name is Blitz T. Abrahms. But everyone calls him "Lucky" Abrahms.
Take a guess why?
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Hmm... he soaks up all the good luck in a room, and everyone else is stuck with bad luck?
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[ SHE GOT IT RIGHT ON THE NOSE. And right when he says that, Shi Qingxuan is going to get. An INCREDIBLE memory. Of Hellsalem's Lot, an Otherworld-integrated version of New York, going into ABSOLUTE CHAOS. Cars are crashing, an airplane fell. A wild monster suddenly passed out in the middle of the sky and fell down on top of a restaurant, crushing the building. Pipes back up and explode, cracking asphalt, flooding streets. Steven watches as a bunch of debris just rams into a white-haired shithead of a man next to him, who is left standing there looking absolutely stunned as a stream of blood pours out of a fragment of concrete stuck in his forehead, comically.
And then across the street, one rather normal-looking man in the midst of this, completely unscathed, waving happily.
"Long time no see!" he says, like everything around him is normal... ]
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This sort of luck is just unnatural.
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[ You know they only call a guy like THAT when they REALLY have to. Also he's totally just being disrespectful by not calling him by his first name or Mr. Abrahms or anything but it's fine, he can't hear him. ]
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My, does that happen often?
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We definitely make him stay away from us if we can help it.
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[
lonely for abrahms, though.]
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Yeah. And that's just one of the people we're associated with... there's a whole slew of guys like him. Less accidentally destructive, at least.
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No shade to you, but I think I'd hate to become a god.
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Maybe you should try visiting Hellsalem's Lot one day, if the possibilities allow it. [ Ha-ha. ] I don't think I could sufficiently describe it in words.
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[a beat]
And my luck isn't anywhere near as bad as his, so it shouldn't be a problem for you if I drop by!
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Please, if you were as bad as Abrahms, then I'm sorry but I would have to request you stay away.
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