Lisa Lixlar
(?)Community Member
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- Posted: Fri, 30 Mar 2012 05:52:17 +0000
R O C Y E_ W H I N T O N
Do I really have to?
One. More. Night.
It was all that came to mind while listening to the ever continuing and surrounding hum of the cicadas. They were something of a trade mark to the south, as were the frequent moss hangings from the trees, some how beautiful, and annoying. As were the creepy, two-headed love bugs, the boiled peanut stands, the over-enthusiastic college football fans, and the not-so-occasional confederate flag.
He wouldn't have been so bothered if the atmosphere had been a little different. If perhaps, they'd been really needed, all in some true danger. Yes, there had been "devil workins, 'round" but it was all small fry stuff.
Crossing his arms casually, Royce glanced at the woman in charge. She wore that smile that wasn't so pretty, and he wondered how much longer he should just stand there without interrupting. How much longer could she honestly take. Lowering his eyes, he instantly regretted looking away from the far lesser evil that was the smile.
Oh. My--
He'd never seen such...dirty feet.
I'm sorry.
His eyes quickly snapped up and away to find an approaching Rachel. Good.
Would she save them?
He hoped-- and then from yards away came... devil music. Perhaps a good escape, in itself.
Without looking at the van, Royce rose his chin toward St. Vier. "I'll get it."
Starting at a slow trot, the man's speed picked up with each step until he met the back of the van. Hands quickly tugged at the handle, but naturally, he'd locked the doors. "Uh..." He moved along the van toward the front, and dug into his pocket, retrieving a key. He'd had the spare since earlier that morning when he'd needed to use the van for an important phone call (oddly, he couldn't get reception at the inn). Good thing he'd kept it. Even more so, good thing he'd had a legit excuse to use the van.
"Aren't you a little old for these type of stunts?" His upper body hung in the van, hands reaching out toward the player to stop the blaring.
Do I really have to?
One. More. Night.
It was all that came to mind while listening to the ever continuing and surrounding hum of the cicadas. They were something of a trade mark to the south, as were the frequent moss hangings from the trees, some how beautiful, and annoying. As were the creepy, two-headed love bugs, the boiled peanut stands, the over-enthusiastic college football fans, and the not-so-occasional confederate flag.
He wouldn't have been so bothered if the atmosphere had been a little different. If perhaps, they'd been really needed, all in some true danger. Yes, there had been "devil workins, 'round" but it was all small fry stuff.
Crossing his arms casually, Royce glanced at the woman in charge. She wore that smile that wasn't so pretty, and he wondered how much longer he should just stand there without interrupting. How much longer could she honestly take. Lowering his eyes, he instantly regretted looking away from the far lesser evil that was the smile.
Oh. My--
He'd never seen such...dirty feet.
I'm sorry.
His eyes quickly snapped up and away to find an approaching Rachel. Good.
Would she save them?
He hoped-- and then from yards away came... devil music. Perhaps a good escape, in itself.
Without looking at the van, Royce rose his chin toward St. Vier. "I'll get it."
Starting at a slow trot, the man's speed picked up with each step until he met the back of the van. Hands quickly tugged at the handle, but naturally, he'd locked the doors. "Uh..." He moved along the van toward the front, and dug into his pocket, retrieving a key. He'd had the spare since earlier that morning when he'd needed to use the van for an important phone call (oddly, he couldn't get reception at the inn). Good thing he'd kept it. Even more so, good thing he'd had a legit excuse to use the van.
"Aren't you a little old for these type of stunts?" His upper body hung in the van, hands reaching out toward the player to stop the blaring.