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Strange couple of bloody days. Just... what.

One day I'm convincing Sal to come topside with me for a drink (what? It was her birthday somewhere this month and a good excuse to get that girl outside and maybe get a drink or two - or five - in, is a good excuse) and the next I'm staggering my drunken self along with Bridget for... what was it, beer? Boredom?

Bloody beats me, but there was... fuck. Soon as I got out of my host (God knows how I got convinced to do THAT) here was this guy with a gun. One of those taser things. They take me down fast, of course, because electricity and water hardly mix. But that's not the point, next thing I know he's on top of me trying to snap this collar onto me. Which he bloody did. I've got a collar on me. AGAIN. It's the same as last time, can't get it off and I can't possess anyone. I do not need this. I don't.

Torque was there. Conveniently. Not so conveniently when she started throwing around fire, and I-- Well. At least I got away in the end.

It couldn't have been a coincidence. I was barely out there for ten seconds before that bastard jumped out at me. If I've learned anything at all from recent events, it's not to trust anyone. In any given situation. That's given me enough to deal with lately.