She's killed another one.

Niyati can't quite get it. Luck is GOOD. She could, but never ever has, bestowed bad luck. But yet again, someone is six feet under both directly and indirectly because of her.

Ok. Here's her reasoning. Yes, she'd granted them the good luck that had gone horrendously wrong. Sure, you could blame her, but there was also the stupidity of the young woman in question.

No one in the wide universe would do what that girl did, thinking it relied in luck and not in preparation. Luck doesn't make you a superhero.

Duct tape is not magical.

Not unless someone had really hated the girl. The, Niyati supposed, one could fall on their feet and worship duct tape. And her.

She winced.

Niyati could also promise herself to be careful. But she knows thats all to the wind the moment a case pulls at her strings. There is luck in luck granting, and sometimes it runs a foul.

She walked down the side of the beach, ratty faux-velvet sling backs she'd picked up in china town for cheap in hand. She half heartedly tried to mourn and repent. But mostly she felt dissapointed in the girl. Angry even. Her thick hair is out, and it blows widly in the wind. It hasn't much of a style to it, and doesn't look like it's been cut since before she was born.

She's trying to furrow her brow in an appropiate look of desolation. But it isn't working very well. To punish herself even further, she's gone without bangles today. Her love, her staple. She doesn't make the pretty tinkling sound. And despite the jeans and shirt, she feels naked without them.

More then anything she wants to vent. About the stupidity of human's in general. To a stranger, to anyone. She hasn't many friends, since her devotion had been to her studies and finding a job (unemployed so far as she knows). So any stranger's ear would have to do. She'd vent about killing someone, but doesn't feel like getting arrested. Niyati does sometimes think these things through.

Sometimes.