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Normally, this was an empty road, and when Alexis wanted to just - to just run - it was okay, to be here. There wasn't anyone who drove down this way. They could run to exhaustion and collapse on the asphalt -- sweating, maybe bleeding if they'd skidded on the road too far, because sometimes they still overcompensated for their eye --

Well.

And then a car had come out of nowhere, and Alexis resorted to instincts: something not-too-tall coming at you? Hop it.

It...had not gone as expected, and now they were perched on the hood of a man's car in leggings and a sweatshirt and sneakers, hair a frizzy mess, eyes disconcertingly wide. So Alexis did the only natural thing: extended a fist, rapped on his windshield, and...stayed exactly where they were.

"I'm fine," Alexis shrugged, dropping off the hood to stand on the ground now that it was safe. "It happens. Not a lot of people usually goin' this way, so I run here." Their hands were bruised, maybe, hard to tell in the light: but not too badly, it seemed. Then again, their hands were dirty and their nails bitten, so how could anyone tell?

"I don't give a s**t you were speeding. I give a s**t you were on this road." They paused, sizing him up with a faintly unimpressed look - nothing much (but they weren't much of anything either, with 75% vision and the slighest possible limp and long sleeves always always always) - but acceptable. "Th'hell are you down here? Nobody drives here. It's not like I have anywhere to go, so even if you're going to kill me and dump my body in the woods, if you're offering a ride anywhere..."

They let the words trail off, raising an eyebrow.

Alexis - in harsh contrast - had only learned to become ever moreso prickly as the years went by. They'd been better as a child, they thought. Less harsh. It was just, in this world -- kill or be killed. If Alexis wasn't harsh, people would have eaten them alive. (Not to say the police didn't want to, in their old town - not so much here, in Ashdown. But they'd be stealing again. They had to.)

"Tell me before you murder me so I don't stab you in the neck by surprise," they drawled sardonically. "I've never done it before, but I'm lookin' to not commit manslaughter tonight." It was a joke, wasn't it? With words like those -- it had to be a joke. Who would say it in such a tone and mean it? "I don't even know where the hell I live from here, so why not? Never been to the runway before."

They pulled open the passenger door, hopping into the car, legs not quite long enough to reach the floor but long enough to kick aimlessly. Childlike. Their face was ever-so-slightly pensive.

"This is s**t," Alexis commented quietly, holding the bottle without any further complaint. They sure as hell didn't much care for his taste in drinks (admittedly, being mostly a non-drinker themselves probably colored their view), but they weren't about to anger their new driver. He could just toss them out on the road and actually succeed on the hit-and-run this time, which would be...an unpreferable circumstance.

Probably. Maybe. It might actually be kinda nice.

"Alexis...'m new in town. If you're about to call me Lexi or some s**t, don't; I'll kick your a**." There wasn't any real anger behind it, just self-assured annoyance.

To be fair, if Alexis had been able to stare into Rabbit's mind right then, they wouldn't have minded the verbal mockery. Half of the things they said weren't thought-through -- they were just screaming into the void for someone to take note -- but thoughts about that got too depressing too ******** that. I don't drink. I just drink enough to know that if I want to black out, it should at least taste less like liquid vomit." Still, their lips tugged at the edges just a bit. They - well. Maybe liked was a strong word, but they could appreciate Rabbit's company. If he was this type of guy even without the worry of OH s**t I ALMOST MADE YOU ROADKILL, maybe they'd made a friend here.

(At least, a friend that hadn't followed them here. God forbid. They really hoped that guy had lost their trail -- he was such a total douche. At least Alexis had standards.)

"Seriously. I don't care. Y'didn't hit me, don't get all worked up about it. You want to treat me? Get me a can of whipped cream and a damn burger." They shrugged, a sharp movement only working to point out how thin their shoulders were under the hoodie.

Alexis paused, giving Rabbit a contemplative look.

There were a lot of things they could say here. But -- Alexis wasn't the contemplative sort -- so they just went with the first thing that came to mind. "I mean. Double the taste, double the fun, right? Less time to waste the food on."

"Food is food. I just like havin' as much of it as I can." An interesting thing for Alexis to say, given that what could be seen of their joints was almost painfully skinny -- their wrists were so, so fragile-looking.

...It was probably just the light. This was a terrible light to try and look nice in.

Their eyes were shiny in the reflected light, hands on their lap gripping the bottle so tightly other materials might bruise, and for a second (before Alexis tamped down on the innate reaction) they looked incredibly taken with the place. They gave Rabbit no response, only handing him back the bottle when he held out a hand for it, staring off into the distance - for only a second, though. Then they came back to themself.