Here's a before and after picture of MC Kyna, left to right, her original body and her temporary doll body:

Here's a before and after picture of MC Kyna, left to right, her original body and her temporary doll body:

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Now back to the story. Kyna just learned she has to open the way home herself. Problem is she doesn't know how. What's a girl to do, besides throwing a lot of sass?

Kyna never thought herself as being more a lover than a fighter. But aside from Ula, every single one of the dillholes around her brought up her fighting side. So it wasn't any wonder when she curled her fists and threw a punch aiming for the closest face beside her. Fortunately, the face she wanted to smash most was Nica. He was withholding something from her. She knew it but didn't know what it was. And he was definitely not telling despite it'll make it easier on them both.

Granted he didn't like the outcome of the past couple of hours. Well neither did she. At least his body was accounted for and didn't have some person thing walking around in it like a meat suit. Oh god, please don't let it pull her head back like the bug from MIB.

All too easily Nica caught her wrist. But joke's on him because she still had her legs and placed a swift kick to his shins. Nica spun her around, twisting both arms behind her back. Kyna continued to struggle, against the unfairness of it all, her father dead, not having money to get out NYC to go college, unable to stop her hard-headed brother who seemed content to barrel into a life that'll end in two ways, jail or six feet, the whole crazy Pinocchio body snatcher ordeal and that the much needed embrace and warmth came from the arms bear hugging her from behind. The weight of the past few days were crushing her that she wanted to curl up like a baby and bawl until she was all tears and snot out, throat as dry as a desert.

But not in front them. Never in front of them. So she fought and stamped on Nica's foot with every ounce of her fears and frustration.

"Stop this," hissed Nica by her ear. Yeah right, thought Kyna as she shoved backwards to try to topple him. His feet remained planted against her assault like a mountain up against a spring breeze. "I said stop!"

He shouted at her. He shouted at her? Not once since meeting him had Kyna heard him raised his voice louder than a high pitch. More than most times he was tight lipped. When he did talk, it was always in a low and warm soprano that although he easily irritated her with his attitude, she still felt safe. Kyna was so startled that she actually stopped.

Once he was assured that she'd calm down, somewhat, he quickly released her and with his back towards her, pointed his thumb backwards. "She can't do it. Not like this. We must try another way."

The oldest looking of the bunch stepped forward. Kyna almost gasped because with so many lines on his face she was sure he was older than Father time himself. But for an old man he walked with a gait that was surprisingly sprightly.

She mentally shook her head and prayed that whatever happens next will take her home where things made sense. And had pizza. God she missed New York pizza.

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