See, Dahlia Hawthorne usually considered herself too classy to swear. Yes, she may have not been the perfect little flower she made herself out to be, but she wasn't totally crude. But right now, there was only one phrase dancing around her head once the sun was suddenly blaring in her eyes and she found herself being a cheerleader in the bleachers of a huge goddamn stadium.

What the fuck is this?!

Was this what Sync had been chasing after for the past two nights? What he had dragged her to hell and back for? This? What the hell could he possible get out of this aside from being able to start a fight without consequence? Why was it morning now? When did they get here? What was the point to this stupidity?

And who was that bitch?

"I-I don't know where we are," she answered the new-comer in her frightened kitten voice. She really didn't care if Anise knew how she really was - she was the minority there and if she knew what was good for her, it'd stay that way.

What a loser.

But from the looks of things bellow (and... she had no idea how to classify the looks of those things, so she just chalked it up to the paranormal and calmly left it at that), Syncie was giving himself a headstart. Well. At least she knew who she was cheering for.