Melanie

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The hundred iron triangles I’ve been keeping as a snug layer of protection beneath my shirt begin to quiver. Slide, flowing upward and into the dangling sleeve on my left. Slowly they coalesce, fitting into place, filling out the cloth. At the end of it, the glimmering iron outline of a hand appears.
Melanie
So fucking cool I’ve been waiting for this
The Strength of the Few (Hierarchy, #2)
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