While several people had left the comfort of their beds or late night/early morning work to go in search of an identity, Jo found herself still wandering the streets in a sort of lucid daze. Like a sleepwalker she was ‘aware’ and capable of reacting to outside stimuli, but she wasn’t actually sure why she was near a thrift store so early in the day.
“Where is my car? Did I walk here in my work shoes?” She asked herself. “I mean, I love them but they are good only for being in front of the camera, on stage, or in bed. Not an early morning walk.” Jo had no shame admitting she did porn and stripped even at her age... which she couldn't quite remember.
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The front door of a motel room opened and a woman dressed in nothing walked out. A few minutes previously she had been Sindra Maxx, rising star of the Honey Bear Hive and off the books prostitute and minor porn star. Now she may have been Cynthia something but needed clothes and a life.
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Jo wandered into a car dealership just brushing past an early morning janitor. “Oh, there are my keys!” Jo said to herself as if she had simply misplaced something in her pocket, not picking up a key and fob off a hook in he back office. Humming a happy tune to herself, Jo strutted back out of the business into the new car lot. She clicked the Unlock on the fob and entered the high end SUV that beeped. “There we go.”
Jo started up the SUV and drove out of the lot. “I a so glad I didn’t drive the bike in heels.” She mumbled to herself before fondling her keyfob. “Now where are the rest of my keys?” The price tag and mileage labels of the SUV’s ink faded to near invisible and a metal plate without symbols formed on the back and front bumpers. She adjusted the seat slightly lower to accommodate her height.
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Rolling out of the bed in a camper just on the edge of town was the man formerly known as Sirius Osmand. Semi-pro dirt bike racer and general extreme sports junkie, Sirius lived off the grid to ride and practice away from the ‘amateurs’ he was too egotistic to admit may be better tan him. Now he began walking several miles into town to find his identity, never noticing his favorite dirt bike dragging itself in a similar direction with its key in the ignition.
In a high-end loft, former local professional basketball player Axel Bront opened his front door and headed towards the elevator. He wasn’t NBA level despite his exceptional size advantage, but small town teams are still professional and made decent money with local endorsements. Now the 7 foot black man was heading to another life somewhere else in the city.
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Jo pulled into the parking lot of a supermarket and passed by the entrance where a police officer was unloading a purse from a suspected shoplifter, including the purse itself. “Alright, here’s how it’s going to go. You stole nearly $1000. This purse alone is worth $600 so it doesn-“ the officer shook his head as Jo picked the purse up from the side of the car. “All of this stuff is about $200. Judge will take it pretty easy.” He said not realizing he had dropped to a calming tone.
Jo wandered into the automotive section as a woman impatiently tapped her foot by the key maker. “Come on, come on! I have to meet the potential buyers!” The new key popped out and Jo knocked her hand away grabbing both it and the original key. “Hey, who do you thin-!?” He realtor blinked, barely recognizing where she was. “Why was I here? Oh yeah, coffee!” She went on her way to the grovery section.
Jo, for her part, passed a couple of workers taking a cart of damaged goods into the back. She reached in, no one noticing as she walked backwards, and pulled out a wallet. She plopped it bak in her purse with a smile as a driver’s license appeared in it just as it touched the house keys. “Okay,” Jo sighed to herself as the purse filled with the usual items and money an adult woman would need. “Where is my phone?” She shimmied a bit as her thong rode up her ass, though smiled as she saw it drew attention despite her baggy shorts. It was supermodel worthy after all! Did tasteful work outside her usual exotic fare.
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Susan McMillan was a model and a mother, though if you asked anyone who knew the family they would say it was MODEL and somewhere down the list a few hundred points was maybe possibly mother. Unlike most who were affected by this curse, Susan didn’t go far. Walking down the stairs of the mansion she entered the one bonus bedroom hidden as a bookshelf. There, Rosita Guerra was just waking up and getting ready for her day as maid of the household. Susan brushed past her and just stripped out of her negligee and put on the maid uniform.
Susanna Guerra blinked and adjusted herself in her uniform, only barely noticing her bedroom door swung back and forth as if someone pressed it open. Oh well, nothing to worry about she thought. Another day of working... and maybe keeping the Master of the house to herself, she considered with a lick of her lips.
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Jo drove and pulled into the driveway of hr house, not even noticing the FOR SALE sign sink into the ground. “‘I’m home!” She called out, but didn’t see any sin of movement in he windows. She shrugged and got the groceries out of her SUV jus as the license plate finished making its symbols. She unlocked the front door and went inside, shutting it behind her with heel. Placing the groceries on the counter, she started placing the cold items in the fridge and freezer, not noticing how items she didn’t buy appeared next to them. The same happened with the pantry.
Grabbing a mug from the cabinet, which suddenly was joined by more, she made herself some coffee. Taking a sip she looked around her open concept home in a new development. “Sure it’s pretty ‘model home’, but those always look good!” She said to herself before turning on the electric stove to start making breakfast. She ran her hands through her hair, stopping as the butterfly clip that represented her inner child touched the pentagram on her bracelet.
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Sally Johnson was just a little girl in the same class as Mikey Madison, though they didn’t talk or were friends. She liked to wear frill dresses and nightgowns like a princess in a storybook, which danced around her feet as she left her room looking for an identity. At the same time, Agatha Pierce walked like a zombie down from her apartment above her club, the Spiked Pit, and made her way out the door. She joined Sally as they both made their way in the same general direction.
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Making breakfast for her family, Jo idly scratched at her legs. Her artistic socks had fallen on her toned calves and were slightly too tight. She thought about her office with her workstation for her hobby wrk, an indie hero comic with a gothic theme and trying to recreate Renaissance artistic styles.
Yeah, Jo admitted to herself, there is a reason she did adult work. The comic was very niche
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Jimmy Maxwell stumbled out of bed and into his equally dazed mother as they both left the house. Jimmy’s mother Rachel was the one who bought the family funny socks for Christmas, they always had a laugh about them. Especially when they did a gift swap and switched who would get what theme. In this case, Rachel got superhero socks while Jimmy got Leonado da Vinci art.
As the two exited the house, they split up looking for new lives.
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Jo adjusted her bra, knowing she would need a good milking soon. She couldn’t recall how many kids she was making breakfast for or who the father was, but she wore a K-cup maternity bra for a reason! And that reason was not because her films liked them... Not only that her films liked them. “Shit!” Jo finished making breakfast, ate hers and out the rest in tupperware she bought with the groceries. “Okay, notepad notepad... Ah ha!” She wrote down that breakfast was in the fridge and raced to her car. “I cannot believe I’m running late! I’ll...” she sniffed her clothes as her garage door opened slightly to let a dirt bike slide inside before closing again. “Whew. Gonna need to shower at the set.” Jo Madison, because Madison is a very common name, pulled out of the driveway and on her way to a different house to begin filming.