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Message: <blockquote data-quote="izillama" data-source="post: 5960266" data-attributes="member: 79171">Clover flinched with every pop and sizzle of her phone, and she stood a safe distance away until both shorted out and began to smoke. Forcing a sigh of air through her dead lungs for effect, she placed her hands on her hips, nodding at her handiwork.When she once again remembered her necklace.This time she didn't ask anyone for help (since they obviously were good for nothing but breaking down her doors), and instead just dropped to the floor and began to try and spot it. She remembered, vaguely, the insanity that had briefly overtaken her. Lying on her cold, dirty floor, and tearing at her own skin. And then, yes, she remembered clutching her necklace, yanking it off and...!She glanced helplessly around the room, hoping to see its resting place. Under the bed? Her desk? Her baseboard? She knew that time was of the essence, that they had to leave, but her necklace was so precious to her!Finally, she resigned herself and stood, lightly dusting herself off. It was gone. Her grandmother--now deceased--had given her that necklace years ago as a symbol of purity and goodness. It had been a family heirloom, and it was irreplaceable. And now... now it probably rested in the most unlikely of places for this room's future occupants to come across, pawn, and buy drugs or something. It was such a shame. With difficultly, she dragged her eyes away from the search, reaching to stuff her laptop into her duffel bag. Then, with a final glance around, she looked at everyone, "Well, are we going? This is already bad enough. California sucks. So let's just get this over with. To Dr. Liverman's with us?" Clover wanted to leave this room, the last of her human memories, as quickly as possible.</blockquote>

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