When Cyst awoke, she was in a bed. A hospital bed, to be precise. She hurt from her neck down and couldn't move her arms or legs, though not for lack of trying. What little she could move her torso let her see that A.) moving her neck any hurt like a bitch and a half, and B.) she was hooked up to some sort of IV. She couldn't tell what exactly they were pumping into her, but she hoped it wasn't Morphine. If it was, then the excruciating pain she felt wasn't even the half of it, and she would be in here for quite some time. She let herself slowly lat back down before thinking about Vince... Oh god, Vince. He must feel terrible, with his string of bad luck... And all because she had to go for that stupid ass knee... She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She would apologize the first chance she got. It was her fault, after all...
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Amaltheia, on the other hand, had just had the time of her life. She had worked out the soreness of the spar at Sicilliano Plaza, her favorite restaurant on the island that wasn't Greek. As she left her dorm, now dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a red tank top, she made her way over to the beach. She loved to watch the ocean after breaking a good sweat, and she enjoyed breaking a sweat AT the ocean even more. However, she was going to have to go to the beach with the worse view. That dumbass Elias would be at her favorite beach to try and carry out that stupid little "High School Sweethearts" routine again. They both knew neither of them were interested, but the boy just kept going. She assumed it was just to piss her off. She would probably be right... She made it to the beaches safe and sound, looking around to find herself completely alone, thank god. She took a seat in the sand and sighed, closing her eyes. It felt good, out here... Better than ever. She hoped that this life never, ever changed. Not even for the better...
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