~Character Chat~

"No she's not," Izzy told him. "Andrew is whiny. And honestly? Riddle had it waaaay worse, as far as I can see."

"Oh really? I've seen his memories, and they suck." said Ezra, sticking up for Andrew for once.

"HOW MANY TIMES WERE YOU DISEMBOWELED FOR S's AND G's THEN ANDREW??" Riddle growled. T.Mor finally gave up on trying to restrain her conventionally, took out his pistol, and shot her in the stomach. She collapsed noislessly to the ground, and he quickly incapcitated her, all with a thick spout of blood pouring form his nose.
"Sheesh. I've never seen her that...Angry? Before..."He said calmly.

"You know how you were all saying Andrew saw his family die? He didn't see them die...he saaw what a list told him snd it told him he and his family were dead."

"How is that more stressful?" T.Mor asked, standing up from The now bound and bleeding Riddle. "Also...someone might want to get out some carpet cleaner...Blood stains, you know." The tension in the room seemed to have been cut by ten fold, with Riddle unconscious.

"Imagine this. You just saw your body, got walked through, and you're more concerned about seeing if your family is okay. You go to the list and see that they are dead. You're alone."

"Um, I think getting dismembered as a toddler is far worse!" Izzy defended. "And how alone do you think Riddle was when that happened?! And at least Andrew had a family! Riddle can't say the same!"

"I think infanticide trumps dead parents any day...Even if the small child in question is immortal."T.Mor agreed. "And I have every reason to believe that until she met me she was alone. All alone. The guards are scared of her, for ovbious reasons. Her father...GAH. I can't believe she even allows herself to call him that. He treats her like crap, and she STILL talks to him at dinner. It's like she wants his approval or something..."T.Mor stopped, having just realised that for the first time ever. "Why do you all think she's so chill about all the violence and gore and all that? It's her whole life! If I hadn't shown up when I did, her incompetence would have probably led to her becoming a living skeleton! I mean, how do you think she got that leg?" T.Mor wasn't entirely sure why he was ranting any more. Especially in defense of Riddle, who had just broken his nose (His estimation.) "She's going to come back from limbo land in a second, and I don't want anyone to bring any of this back up. She's going to be cranky enough about the impending Rigor Mortis... ok?"T.Mor asked seriously.

"You got it," Izzy said. "And I just wanted to say, I agree completely with all of that. I think Riddle here has the worst story out of anyone present!"

"T.MOR. Care to explain why I just dug this bullet out of my stomach lining?" Riddle asked groggily, having worked her way out of the restraints. She was still sitting, and her ankles were still safely bound.
"You were trying to kill people again. Preventative measures. You understand." T.Mor lied to her smoothly, looking at the knives still in the wall above August's head. He hated lying to her about crap like that.
"Oh." She said, understandingly. "Stupid blood...Keeps staining crap..."Riddle noticed, bringing a pale bloody hand up to her face, and watching it fascinatedly. Her movements seemed stiff. "RIGOR...I HATE THAT DEAD PEOPLE JUNK..." She said irritatedly, in response to the stiffness.
"Can I borrow a blender?" T.Mor asked, remembering the formaldehyde that Riddle had. Riddle smiled. It was still creepy, but mostly just becuase of the blood spatter.
"Aww...Formaldehyde smoothies? You're my favourite mass murderer you know..." She giggled loopily. Some blood trailed from the corner of her mouth.

"Are you okay Riddle?" asked Liz concerned.

"You want to switch places with Andrew? I can arrange that." Ezra said flatly.

(SAY YES)

"Oh, yeah...I'll be fine...Right after...24 hours of...hard core muscle paralysis...Everything will be just....PEACHY!" Riddle nearly trailed off on a wierd Al song.
"Do you have an accessible blender or not? I'm just trying to keep you from having decomposing flesh on your floor later guys..." T.Mor asked again, holding a bit of fabric that he had torn off to his bloody nose. "But then again, if you don't mind cleaning..."
"Wait...Why on earth would I want to switch places?" Riddle groggily adressed Ezra. "Did a one eyed hermaphrodite steal his glow in the dark snorkel?" Riddle asked.

"I don't think it'll work with you Riddle...but you...it may." said Ezra, pointing to T.Morr.

"I'm trying to imagine you two switching places," Izzy mused. "You see, 'switching places' has a whole new meaning when you're a bonder."

"More like states."

"Same with bonders," Izzy said with a grin, "only different. Kinda."

"Really?" asked Ezra.

"Well, when bonders switch places," Izzy started, "they're switching places with their souls. The soul uses all the elements and stuff from the bonder's body to temporarily construct a new body for the soul. It takes a lot of concentration on the soul's part, though. The bonder then takes 'soul form' and becomes an invisible animal until the soul gives the body back or has their concentration broken. Switching places puts the bonder's body in stasis, so the technique is often used by souls when their bonders are gravely injured and can't get help quickly enough. They stay in their switched positions until they can get proper medical attention."

((EDIT: This post brings my post count to 1776. Revolution!))

"Interesting. With us....well if T. Morr excepts...you'll see for your self."

"Why would I do that though? What is my motivation? I'm fine like I am..." T.Mor said.
"EXPLETIVES." Riddle swore. "Fine motor skills have LEFT THE BUILDING!!" She commented on the progression of the muscle stiffening that cacme as a result of her untimely demise.
"You shouldn't have tried to kill August again, then. You know that." T.Mor reprimanded, still upset about the whole lying to Riddle thing. He had done it before though, and really, he had done worse things...But he'd had just as much of a conscience about all those things as well. Deception and evil just didn't sit right in his stomach.
"Well...Yeah. Cyanide would have been a cleaner method...I just didn't think to bring any with me..."Riddle's mind was fabricating short term memories at a rapid pace, to make up for blank spots she didn't know she had.

"Yeah, you really ought to get her one of those preservative smoothies," Izzy said, frowning.

"Screw it. Ezra. I'm going to find your blender..." T.Mor decided, pulling a formaldehyde packet out of Riddle's pocket. He ascended the stairs, and found the kitchen, all quite stealthily. The guards HAD trained him to be stealthy. But not how to operate a blender stealthily...
After a few panicked seconds of blending loudly, he decided that that was close enough, and instead of finding a glass, just brought the whole blender downstairs. "Here."
"Excellent presentation T.Mor..." Riddle laughed, tipping half the contents down her throat. She shuddered. "And IT NEVER TASTES GOOD." She said, but her tight muscles loosened noticeably.

"I can imagine it doesn't!" Izzy said. "That stuff's typically poisonous."

"Yeah...So is arsenic apparently, and I tend to use that plus bleach as a back up...Only that works better if I replace half of my blood with the mix...Which isn't fun...It's my ghetto solution. I mean...The Foramldehyde screws me up pretty badly as it is...But its better than the decomposition..." Riddle said to Izzy, between gulps of smoothie. "I mean...It normally kills my nerves something awful...I shook non-stop for a month once because I over did it on the concentration..." She ranted.

"You were the one who was giving Andrew crap. If you actually experiance it, you can tell him he's whinny if you relize it was exactly what you thought it would be. I'll be able to switch you two back."