[There's a neighborhood watch even out here? Damnit. Any of them could be working for the company, with instructions to lock her up in the subbasement for observation. "Until we find a cure"? Right. More like "until you snap and we have an excuse to kill you."
At least she fits in with the freaks here, with her pallor and white hair. Hell, maybe she should go into the haunted bus and wend her way into a group, follow them out, go somewhere else.
Yeah, that's a good plan.
Normally, Rita wouldn't bother leaving donations, but she doesn't want to stick out in the creepy goth girl's memory. Make strangers into allies, be likable -- that's how she's going to survive.
Except she's broke. All her things are back in the subbasement, or in the apartment her father kidnapped her from in the first place.
Muttering a curse, she looks around for anyone who looks approachable (or at least not repulsive) and heads over to them, smile friendly or sultry, depending on the person.]
Hi, sorry to bother you -- I got mugged a minute ago. I'm supposed to meet my friends in the haunted house, but I don't like to go in without leaving the girl up front some money. Could you maybe spare some change?
[She holds onto the smile even as she grows angriee and angrier inside. Rita Du Clark, reduced to begging. For fuck's sake.]
4: playground
[It's quiet and devoid of children, but it's still an ugly sore in this already ugly city. It used to be prettier, didn't it? Flowers, birds chirping, shops with prettier displays, people running or walking, with dogs or partners, alone. Families having picnics. Hipsters sitting with artesanal coffee. College students playing sports, drinking the energy drink her father's company makes.
Instead it looks as desolate and empty as her childhood was.
Rita hates it.]
The mayor should have it bulldozed. [She mutters this to no one in particular.] I should make my father buy it and turn it into something else.
[But her father isn't here. Where is he, again? Gone for a while. She's glad. He's a piece of shit.]
I should buy it. [Prove she's smarter than her father. Prove she's better.
She looks like she might just go do that if no one stops her train of thought.]
Rita Du Clark | iZombie (tv series - spoilers for late season 2)
[There's a neighborhood watch even out here? Damnit. Any of them could be working for the company, with instructions to lock her up in the subbasement for observation. "Until we find a cure"? Right. More like "until you snap and we have an excuse to kill you."
At least she fits in with the freaks here, with her pallor and white hair. Hell, maybe she should go into the haunted bus and wend her way into a group, follow them out, go somewhere else.
Yeah, that's a good plan.
Normally, Rita wouldn't bother leaving donations, but she doesn't want to stick out in the creepy goth girl's memory. Make strangers into allies, be likable -- that's how she's going to survive.
Except she's broke. All her things are back in the subbasement, or in the apartment her father kidnapped her from in the first place.
Muttering a curse, she looks around for anyone who looks approachable (or at least not repulsive) and heads over to them, smile friendly or sultry, depending on the person.]
Hi, sorry to bother you -- I got mugged a minute ago. I'm supposed to meet my friends in the haunted house, but I don't like to go in without leaving the girl up front some money. Could you maybe spare some change?
[She holds onto the smile even as she grows angriee and angrier inside. Rita Du Clark, reduced to begging. For fuck's sake.]
4: playground
[It's quiet and devoid of children, but it's still an ugly sore in this already ugly city. It used to be prettier, didn't it? Flowers, birds chirping, shops with prettier displays, people running or walking, with dogs or partners, alone. Families having picnics. Hipsters sitting with artesanal coffee. College students playing sports, drinking the energy drink her father's company makes.
Instead it looks as desolate and empty as her childhood was.
Rita hates it.]
The mayor should have it bulldozed. [She mutters this to no one in particular.] I should make my father buy it and turn it into something else.
[But her father isn't here. Where is he, again? Gone for a while. She's glad. He's a piece of shit.]
I should buy it. [Prove she's smarter than her father. Prove she's better.
She looks like she might just go do that if no one stops her train of thought.]