[Rose isn't in the best mood herself. She at least tries not to look like the unliving urban legend she is when she's on the shoulder of the road, but right now, it's being The Road and every attempt to will her deathday dress into something less Midwest Cinderella. The last thing she needs is yet another armature ghost hunter putting another pin on the goddamn Google Map her nephew showed her that at least one paranormal research group was using.
The dress usually means something, but fuck if she knows what the Road's asking of her tonight. There aren't any scents on the winds of the Twilight telling her what to expect, just the dark, and the cold, and then the familiar bright light of a slowing vehicle.
She's surprised to hear a woman's voice, especially a younger one; but even with the irritation in the woman's tone, she visibly relaxes a little- or goes through the motions of doing so, as any poor lost young woman would. She's played this part long enough.]
I had a fight with my boyfriend, [she says it sheepishly, like it's her fault some asshole would leave her out here and she's embarrassed to be troubling some poor driver by her very presence. It's the story Antimony says would piss her off the most at an imaginary stranger, and for some reason, following Antimony Protocol just seems like a good idea here.]
He had a bit too much at the open bar, and I didn't think he should be driving and- [she shrugs and motions to her situation while hesitantly inching towards the offered coat like a hungry stray cat coaxed towards an open tuna can.] He didn't bother leaving me my phone.
[She's always found that creating a villain for a situation diffuses the interrogation portion of hitching a ride. And a throwaway about an open bar hints at something fit to be dressed the way she is- or she hopes it covers that question.]
we haven't started and I already love this muse combo so we're golden
The dress usually means something, but fuck if she knows what the Road's asking of her tonight. There aren't any scents on the winds of the Twilight telling her what to expect, just the dark, and the cold, and then the familiar bright light of a slowing vehicle.
She's surprised to hear a woman's voice, especially a younger one; but even with the irritation in the woman's tone, she visibly relaxes a little- or goes through the motions of doing so, as any poor lost young woman would. She's played this part long enough.]
I had a fight with my boyfriend, [she says it sheepishly, like it's her fault some asshole would leave her out here and she's embarrassed to be troubling some poor driver by her very presence. It's the story Antimony says would piss her off the most at an imaginary stranger, and for some reason, following Antimony Protocol just seems like a good idea here.]
He had a bit too much at the open bar, and I didn't think he should be driving and- [she shrugs and motions to her situation while hesitantly inching towards the offered coat like a hungry stray cat coaxed towards an open tuna can.] He didn't bother leaving me my phone.
[She's always found that creating a villain for a situation diffuses the interrogation portion of hitching a ride. And a throwaway about an open bar hints at something fit to be dressed the way she is- or she hopes it covers that question.]