Welcome to Isolation [open]

[igneus_laqueum]

Characters: Rita, open
Content: Rita is alive again, and could not be angrier.
Location: Outside of the Fashion Institute of Technology
Time of day: Good Morning
Warnings: Violence and/or swearing will most likely ensue.

Comments

[igneus_laqueum]

If Rita had held any sort of vicarious kinship with the butterball before her, it was gone now. Rainheart was nowhere near as loud or obnoxious as this idiot. Her neutral expression fell into a glare as the boy continued to speak.

He's nearly as annoying as Birdman...

Now the boy, 'Pokey', had the nerve to approach her. The nerve to grasp her finger. He leered up at her, obviously trying to manipulate her into giving him information about their surroundings.

This boy didn't realize a few things.

For one, Rita was in no mood to be alive, and this tended to either make her suicidal or homicidal.
Two, she had no idea where in the hell she was, much less where 'Nom Lamb' was.
And three, she really did not like it when people touched her. Least of all sweaty, manipulative imbeciles.

Rita yanked her hand away, looking almost as if she were going to backhand the kid. But she lowered her hand, smiling as she closed her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts. "Hmph.." When she opened her eyes again, they were full of psychotic fire and her smile had widened into a frightening leer.

"Boy, we've got one thing in common..." Pokey began to levitate. Rather, the tires on his body were being levitated, and thus he was lifted as well. Rita's bright red hair shimmered and became weightless, the ends hovering just slightly. "...we're in the wrong place, in the wrong time."

Rita grinned maniacally at the floating boy, her power building quickly as she prepared to release it. "LATER, PERTATER." With that, Rita used her psychokinetic power to hurl the boy across the city.

She watched as he sailed effortlessly away, graceful if not for the squirming, tire-bound limbs and hysterical screaming.

I...needed that.

Rita kept walking.