The Red Queen's off with her head...
Ronnie Thorne isn't exactly at her happiest right now. Currently she's sprawled across a park bench on her stomach, smoking a cigarette and glowering at the passers-by, occasionally nudging their emotions this way and that if they bother to meet her eyes. It's not really all that effective, but it's enough to make a few businessmen on their way ( Read more... )
So she's out again, needing and wanting and looking for anyone who can give her a break and save her from reality for a little while.
And though she hasn't seen her, she's not far from Ronnie and her bench.
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She frowns a little when her searching snags on an oddly familiar tumult of emotions. To her, emotions have cadence just like voices and, because of that, she can pick familiar emotional patterns out of a crowd. She opens her eyes again and spots Becky.
Oh fun. And just as much of a mess as usual. Maybe this is her lucky day after all.
She climbs off the bench and crushes out her cigarette. "Hey, chickadee!" She calls out to Becky, giving her a friendly wave.
Yep. Friendly. As friendy as your local drug dealer who happens to be a emotion-hungry demon can be, of course.
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She can pretty much forgive any odd nickname the woman chooses to give her.
She smiles back, sort of, crookedly and not at all convincingly. "Hey. Didn't expect to see you here." Hoped, distantly, but really didn't expect.
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It's not really all that posh, but when you're used to the slums, it's a bit... Much. Not that she's never worked in higher class places (places that would make this area look like the boonies), she just doesn't like it much.
She senses the hope and that gets her grinning as she strides over to her. "Were you looking for me? Be honest now."
Because, you know, she'll have a vague idea if she's lying. Emotions always get rather funny when someone lies. That and given Becky's current state of emotional unrest, it's pretty much obvious. Junkies are so easy to read- that's why she likes them.
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She doesn't know many drug dealers who can see her when she's seen a death. Most of the people in the park can't see her, she knows that. Oh, sure, there are plenty of shapeshifters, werewolves, and the like who can see her, but not as many as there are normal people.
Somehow she's not surprised to find that Ronnie's not one of the normal people. It unsettles her a little, though she tries to shove that down.
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"Well, bully for me then," she says casually. She closes her eyes again- to a normal person, it would just look like she was being contemplative. It's nothing that pleasant.
Angels of Death and their angst... Gotta love it and Ronnie does.
She frowns again when she opens her eyes. That's another thing about this particular area that she doesn't like- not exactly the best for shooting up. She probably won't get to watch this time. Pity. Well, it's not like Becky's emotional state currently isn't a pleasure to feel out.
She lights another cigarette, because nicotine is good for disappointment. "So what's your poison? The usual?"
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She has the feeling, somehow, that she's going to need it pretty soon.
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