COULD GET UGLY, [OPEN]

[LARK AUGUSTINE]

JUST ONE OF THOSE DAYS  

Lark decided that she hated road trips.

And driving. And trucks. Anything with an engine, really, especially if that engine ran on gasoline, and had a deceptively optimistic gas meter installed in the dashboard that failed to slide its way to the "E" even after Lark's aged truck had puttered and groaned its way to a slow stop on the side of the road. Lark sat stock still in her driver's seat for a second, entirely disbelieving. She looked again to the gas meter, still determined to keep it's little hand one tiny tick above empty, refusing to budge even when Lark reached out and tapped on the glass with a finger. Suspicious, the brunette tried the ignition -- the engine sputtered, then died out.

"You can go to hell," Lark told the gas meter mildly, before looking staring out her window at the empty road ahead illuminated only by Lark's headlights. The sky was rapidly darkening as night set in, the only other noise besides Lark's irritated comments to her vehicle's faulty machinery she steady whump, whump of the windshield wipers as they stroked back and forth across her windshield, and the rhythmic drumming of rainfall on the hood of the car. Lark squinted through the windshield, and eyed the rearview mirror, but there was no other signs of life in her immediate line of vision. Just pavement and forest lining either side of the road, and a distant sign outlining the speed limit which glowed in the wake of her headlights. The road was as quiet as the grave, which the waitress wasn't entirely surprised by; she tended to take the quieter backroads those times she left Rapid City because in all truth she drove like a paranoid granny, and she knew it, and she didn't feel like getting honked at and succumbing to road rage every time she went out on an errand.

Lark heaved a heavy sigh and unbuckled her seatbelt, reaching to the passenger side where her coat sat wrapped around a collection of mason jars of jams and honeys. They were the type used in the diner and rather popular with locals who frequented the establishment, and came from a farm some two hours north of Rapid City. They'd been running low and Penny had meant to make the trip herself for some extra jars, but Lark had seen the ominous weather on the horizon and and opted to go in her place. Apparently she'd be right to do so. Lark unraveled her sweater from the mason jars and patted down its pockets, expecting to feel the familiar weight of her cell phone, but came up with nothing. Frowning, she blindly patted down the seat and fished through the jars, but couldn't find the phone she sought. Moving to her knees on the driver's seat, she reached over and felt across the floor, finally wrapped her hands around the cool, hard surface of the phone in question, When she slid it open, however, the screen remained blank. Dead battery.

Lark rolled down her window briefly, feeling the cold raindrops which splattered across her skin were a small priced to pay for the satisfaction she got from chucking the useless piece of technology across the road. Lark rolled the window back up and frowned at her steering wheel, sitting for a moment and listening only to the steadiness of the wipers across the windshield. Whump. Whump. Whump. She thought about what to do next.

Night as falling quickly, and the rain wasn't letting up. She could sit and wait for a car to come by, but who was to say how long that might be on one of these back roads? And who was to say the driver of that vehicle would not be some kind of homicidal maniac who would like to eat her eyeballs. She had to be about an hour out from Rapid City if she was to try the trip on foot, but if memory served there was a hamlet maybe halfway between here and the town. Of course she wasn't much safer out there then sitting in here, but it was better than doing nothing. She could make it to the hamlet before it got too late; there was a tiny convenience store there, if memory served, one she could at least call somebody from. Who exactly are you going to call? You have Penny's truck.

"Shut up," Lark told herself irritably. She turned off the lights and the wipers, and pulled the keys from the ignition. Then she pushed open her door and stepped into the heavy deluge, quickly slipping her sweater over her shoulders and pulling the hood tightly overhead. Lark reached back in for the mason jars, finding an old shopping bag in which she could carry them -- then she reached into the bed of the truck, and pulled out the baseball bat she kept there. Ever if she was going to be an easy target, she wasn't going to make it that easy. After a moment's hesitation, she heaving a small, annoyed sigh and crossed the road to pick up her discarded cell phone, useless as it was, and slipped it into the pocket of her jeans with the car keys. Then she returned to the side of the road; pavement on her lefthand side, dense forest on her right, and started walking.

Stupid truck.

[VITANI ASHWORTH]

She felt like she'd been driving for days. It wasn't true, she'd only been on the road for three hours or so, and from her convenience store road map she was destined to hit a town sooner or later, but she wasn't sure if she could find it in this rain, and with it getting dark soon. She grumbled, fiddling with her radio before finally hitting the power button off and sighing again. She was fairly certain she was lost this time, which only served to make her want a drink even harder. Luckily for her and the law, she had drank up her last bottle of booze two hours ago and was far more than sober now. All she had was luke warm Sprite, which did nothing for her thirst really. Vitani was unhappy at the moment. Not a terrible, i hate everything and want to die unhappiness - more of a mildly frustrated and want this day to be over unhappiness. She scrunched her nose up, hating the silence more than the crappy radio stations and hitting the power button again, jabbing one finger against the "seek" button, before fiddling with the CDs that were scattered around her passenger seat. She wasn't entirely concerned with watching the road at the moment. She'd been driving on it all evening and had only seen one or two other cars, so there wasn't exactly much to worry about.

She gave up on the CD hunt just about the time she passed a truck sitting on the side of the road, swerving to miss it by a moment and slamming on her brakes before realizing it was empty and continuing on at a steady speed of safely fast. She glanced down at the gas gauge on the dash. Her tank was still on the upside of half-empty so she was good for now, though she really needed a beer right about now. Or a cigarette. Preferably both, as it were. She began fiddling in the console, pulling one out and sticking it in her lips, pushing in the car lighter and waiting for it to pop out. She bobbed her head a little bit to the music - not really knowing what it was that was playing on her radio but knowing it was at least catchy. She smirked, reaching down for the cigarette lighter and lighting her cigarette up, rolling the window down and enjoying the air, even if it were laden with raindrops. All the more soothing.

She smirked a bit, before raising a brow, leaning forward a bit and seeing someone walking down the side of the road. She blinked a few times, going past her before looking in the rear-view and realizing she was in fact a real person, a girl that looked rather vulnerable. Vitani sighed, arguing with herself for only a moment before stopping her car and hitting it in reverse, driving back towards the girl and rolling down the window on the passenger side. "Hey. You need a lift?" Almost everything about this went against her better judgment, but the redhead figured if she was gonna die, she might as well fall victim to some cute girl in the middle of nowhere. Better than dying in a pool of her own vomit like she'd pretty much always planned she'd go. She gave the girl the nicest smile she could muster, beginning to pick up a few of the CD's that littered the passenger seat as well as a few fast food bags and brown paper bags, tossing them in the back with the rest of her junk.

[LARK AUGUSTINE]

JUST ONE OF THOSE DAYS  

This had been a terrible idea. The storm hadn't let up in the slightest since Lark had made the stupid decision to leave her truck and brave Mother Nature in order to reach some place with a phone. Instead, the brunette had to keep her chin tucked into her chest so that the rain wouldn't drench her face more than it already had and her vision could remain relatively clear as she alternated staring at her shoes and the gravel underfoot and glancing up at the road to see if the hamlet she was looking for was visible yet or not. At this point that answer was -- Lark checked again -- no. And in the mean time, Lark was about ninety percent positive that her sweater was completely soaked through and that rainwater was slowly, but surely, collecting in her little grocery bag of mason jars, making it just that little bit heavier. Not that it was hard to carry in the first thing, but it was annoying as all hell. Lark would habitually tap the bat against the edge of the road to her left, just to remind her that her numb hand was alive and well. The brunette thought, not for the first time, of turning right around and ducking back into that damn truck and waiting out the storm like any sane person probably would have done -- but that thought was almost as irritating as the idea of continuing to trudge through this damned weather. Not only would it take her another hour to double back, the black truck long out of her sight by now, but it would have meant essentially that she'd gotten herself drenched to the bone for nothing.

Terrible. Idea.

Lark frowned at her shoes, feeling her damp and cold socks rub up uncomfortably against her toes as she continued to trudge forwards even through the thoughts of turning back. If she didn't get a cold from all this exposure to the elements, it would be a miracle. And that thought in itself made her sigh a bit, the noise lost amid the cacophony of rain and thunder. Before, maybe, the thought wouldn't have seemed that odd. But now with her memories in place, the sheer vulnerability of this human body was almost painfully clear to her. Mere exposure to rain and cold and wind had the potential to put her out of commission with a cold or a flu, or who knew what. Things that an angel never had to worry about. Lark shook her head as if to dislodge those thoughts -- wasting time agonizing over things that she couldn't control was useless, she reminded herself firmly.

It took Lark a second for her to realize that she was casting a shadow on the gravel ahead of her. Considering it was pitch black outside, the light now flooding the road had to be coming from an approaching vehicle. Lark turned her head, scrunching her nose against the force of the rain and the brightness of the headlights; her eyes took a moment to adjust before she saw the profile of a car coming towards her. Lark turned back to her path and continued trudging along; she knew perhaps too well that most passersby wouldn't stop to help, and if they did, they were probably serial killers. Hence the bat, Lark reminded herself as she hefted it up to sit on her shoulder. She felt a buffer of air brush against her as the car sped past, watching the red rear lights just for something new -- and less boring -- to look at. But instead of watching the lights fade, Lark saw instead the cars' break lights flare and the vehicle reverse towards her. Lark stopped, a mixture of surprise and suspicion filling her. The car stopped beside her, and the passenger window rolled down. Lark found herself looking at a woman leaning over from the driver's side. "Hey. You need a lift?"

Lark cocked her head to the side, frowning a bit, ducking her head to better see the woman in the driver's seat. She looked for any serial killer-esque characteristics, or general creepiness. Lark stepped closer to the car but didn't get in; instead, she leant down further to the open car window, frowning. She wasn't sure if this lady was just being nice or was planning to drag her out to a field and cut off her head, or something. Alternatively, Lark knew she probably looked like a drowned rat, and had to cut at least a slightly suspicious figure on account of the bat.

She thought about rejecting the woman's offer and continuing on her way. It was probably the smart thing to do. At the same time, she was freezing, and wet, and probably could defend herself if the lady suddenly pulled a gun or a knife on her or something. But for the sake of getting that out in the open, Lark opened her mouth and responded mildly, "You're not going to try to kill me, are you?" she lifted the bat from her shoulder to bring the woman's attention to it, before letting it rest again on her shoulder. "I don't want to have to use this." She wasn't sure she cut much on an intimidating figure, what with the drowned rat thing going on. But she figured she should make it clear that a), she wasn't some crazy person, and B), she was not going to be the feature of the next episode of 48 Hours Mystery.

[VITANI ASHWORTH]

She sat and waited for a few moments as the girl peered in, a bit leery of getting into a car wit a stranger. Not that Vitani really blamed her or anything, it was a pretty safe bet that most people these days weren't really doing things with the best of intentions. She raised a brow for a moment, shaking her head and keeping a mindful foot on the brake pedal, reaching over to the seat that was getting a bit wetter as every moment passed and cleaning some of the stuff out of it and out of the floorboards as well. She tossed a few empty bags into the backseat, as well as a few dozen CD's, before finding the one she'd been looking for earlier and slipping it in between the sun visor and the roof, looking up at the girl as she asked the loaded question.

"Not planning on it, no." She said, shaking her head and making a face, before beginning to move the last of her CD's. Even if the girl didn't take her offer, she'd at least have a cleaned up passenger seat. She shrugged a bit. "But if you try to kill me first, then it's fair game." She said, shrugging again and shifting her weight, looking out the windshield for a minute or two, shaking her head and looking back towards Lark. "Name's Vitani. If you want a ride, come on. It's a pretty safe bet to say that I'm the only car on this road, and I also know me pretty well, and I have to say, I'm a cage fighter, not a serial killer." She said, holding out her hand a bit. "But if you'd rather walk in the rain and risk some crazy person forcibly picking you up, that's your decision and you look perfectly capable of making your own decisions." She gave the girl a smile. "But my seat's getting wet, so move it or lose it."

((Le short. Sorryyy. ): ))

[LARK AUGUSTINE]

JUST ONE OF THOSE DAYS 

"Not planning on it, no," was the response she got from the stranger. Lark really hadn't been expecting any wild admissions to intent to murder, but. She figured it was something she may as well get out there. Lark of course had no intention of being the main character in one of those Lifetime straight-to-television movies people liked to watch about crimes that started out just like this. She wasn't all that worried about actually getting killed hitchhiking, but fighting her way out of an attempted murder in some cornfield somewhere would definitely be an unappreciated addition to what was already shaping up to be a pretty terrible night. The drenched brunette tipped her head a bit, watching the woman push things off the passenger seat to clear up some space. "But if you try to kill me first, then it's fair game." That seemed fair enough to the fallen. She was the one with the bat, after all. It was probably a miracle this woman had stopped and offered her a ride in the first place. Her hood probably shielded most of her face from the stranger's immediate view. At least they seemed to be on the same page about the killing each other thing. "Name's Vitani. If you want a ride, come on. It's a pretty safe bet to say that I'm the only car on this road, and I also know me pretty well, and I have to say, I'm a cage fighter, not a serial killer." Vitani, Lark repeated inwardly. She'd have to put some effort into remembering that one. Whatever comments Lark had about the strange name she kept to herself, as it would be the pot calling the kettle black in this case. Lark took a moment to mentally thank once more her father's tendency to drink copious amounts of liquor during times of stress for naming her after a damned bird. "But if you'd rather walk in the rain and risk some crazy person forcibly picking you up, that's your decision and you look perfectly capable of making your own decisions." The woman's words amused Lark; she could only think of a handful of people that could forcibly do anything with her, and most of them weren't human by any means. On a good day, anyways. Maybe if Lark had the flu she'd be a bit more of an easy target. Typically, homicidal crazy humans were not so much a threat as a very frustrating and bothersome obstacle. Lark tilted her head a bit so she could see inside the car; it was then she noticed the woman's smile. "But my seat's getting wet, so move it or lose it."

Lark straightened up from where she'd leant against the car, and lifted her bag of mason jars from where they hung from her left hand in order to press them against her side with one damp arm. The bat was moved to that free hand before Lark's fingers slid across the wet surface of the car door and curved into the door handle. She pulled it open with a swift yank, and ducked in smoothly, shutting the door behind her just as quickly to limit just how much rain made its way into the little car. "My name's Lark," she said, almost forgetting to introduce herself. "You can drop me at the gas station up the road and I'll call a tow truck." Lark settled the bat between her knees and the jars in her lap, and fumbled for the seatbelt. "Cage fighter, you said?" she repeated belatedly, her voice sounding much louder and more clear now that she wasn't talking through pelting rain and thunder and wind. Lark felt like she'd almost forgotten what it was to not have rain pelting down on you constantly -- of course that was an exaggeration, but being out of the immediate range of the storm was something of a relief to be certain. "In this area?" she flipped through a sort of mental catalogue of possible locations for that sort of thing in this county; of course it was the sort of thing that could take place in a bar, a barn, a warehouse...who knew. First time she'd heard of such a thing out this way. She wondered about it. Vitani had said it as though it was her primary job; was that sort of thing a full time occupation? Lark found herself fairly curious about it. "That sort of thing pays well?" she wondered, pulling down her hood finally and pulling her tangly wet hair over one shoulder. Beside that, she didn't try to do any more to put her hair in order or get out of her drenched clothes; doing so would probably get water everywhere in the car, and unless Vitani suddenly proved to indeed be a crazy sociopathic serial killer, Lark wasn't interested in returning her charity with that sort of behaviour.

[VITANI ASHWORTH]

Vitani waited for a few more moments until the girl finally decided to get into the car, opening the door and sliding in with her mass of random items - jars of stuff, a baseball bat, probably something else that Vitani hadn't paid enough attention to. She exhaled a bit and punched a button on the old radio in the car as the girl introduced herself. Lark. "That's a pretty name." Vitani said, waiting another few moments and nodding as Lark closed the door and settled in, telling her she could drop her off at the gas station. Vitani nodded a bit and put the car into gear, stepping on the gas and heading up the road, nodding again when Lark asked about her being a cage fighter. "Yeahh.." She said slowly, looking around like she was a bit embarrassed about something and chuckling a bit. "I'm a bit lost. Too cheap for GPS and all that shit and sometimes the maps lie to me. Too many little lines and shit to keep up with." She said, shaking her head a bit and scratching at her nose with one hand.

"It doesn't really pay too great. I mean, if you go pro with it you can make a good bit but eh... Too many rules and too much publicity in all that. I'd rather be anonymous and poor than attacked on the streets by people going 'dude you are awesome'. I'm a simple person." She shrugged a bit, leaving the music on the radio to a soft buzz in the background in case Lark wanted to talk about something or whatever. Vitani cleared her throat. "So... why exactly are you out here walking in the rain? Someone drop you off or...?" She stopped for a moment before glancing back at Lark for a second then back to the road. "Was that your truck a few miles back?" She asked, conveniently leaving out the fact that she had almost hit it while digging through her CD's.

[LARK AUGUSTINE]

JUST ONE OF THOSE DAYS  

Lark lifted a hand and rested the back of her fingers against one of the air vents in the dash in front of her, seeking warmth even as her eyes flit of their own volition about the interior of the car she had just settled into. There was probably some kind of etiquette about not nosing around in strangers' property, especially when they'd just been so kind as to save you from catching pneumonia because you were overconfident about your truck's mileage. The thought that she was being intrusive didn't occur to the brunette; she merely studied her surroundings curiously, thoughtlessly, taking in the brief glance into the world of someone she hadn't known for even five minutes. Most notably, the car handled much differently that her old Ford. That was to be expected, of course, considering the difference in make and design altogether -- but it was still minutely disconcerting on a certain level the same way it was getting into any vehicle different from what you're used to -- small things stuck out, like the fact that this thing picked up speed much faster compared to what she was used to, and the brake, if she were to venture a guess, was probably more sensitive judging by how the car moved. "I'm a bit lost. Too cheap for GPS and all that shit and sometimes the maps lie to me. Too many little lines and shit to keep up with." Lark blew a stray hair away from where it was tickling her nose, peered out the windshield at the deluge outside -- even if Vitani did have a map on hand, it'd be all but useless on a night like this. Highways and cities were one thing to navigate, but the countryside -- where the concept of street lamps was laughable and the existence of proper street signs doubtful -- was a different matter altogether. Lark might go so far to say as it had been some small stroke of good fortune which had landed her in Vitani's car, as storm or not, Lark could tell precisely where she was on these backroads.

Lark raised a sleeve with the intent of wiping some of the moisture off of her cheeks, but pretty sure she succeeded only in spreading around the dampness. "It doesn't really pay too great. I mean, if you go pro with it you can make a good bit but eh... Too many rules and too much publicity in all that. I'd rather be anonymous and poor than attacked on the streets by people going 'dude you are awesome'. I'm a simple person." Lark supposed she could understand that. She still jumped slightly when Aunt Penny happened to spot her about in town and did that thing where she'd cheerfully shout across the street or the pharmacy or the grocer some kind of flamboyant greeting. She could hardly stomach the thought of multiplying that sort of thing and adding in random strangers. It reminded her of high school, and hadn't that been a train wreck.

"So... why exactly are you out here walking in the rain? Someone drop you off or...?" Lark worked on pulling her jacket a little closer to her body, as if that would somehow stop the water which had collected on the fabric from seeping in to her seat. "Was that your truck a few miles back?" Lark lifted her other hand to the air vent and had them both there, letting the warm air flow other them like she was warming up her hands against a tiny fire. "Yeah, that's mine. Out of gas or something." She was not looking forward to driving out in the morning to come collect the thing, either, as it mean she'd have to deal with the local mechanic, Joe -- old guy, something of a pervert, could talk her ear off for hours and hours and...hours. Was going to be a fun morning. "Keep straight through the fork in the road up ahead," she added, again peering through the car's window to the road ahead. She could barely make out the stop sign from here, but she knew it was close. "Station's up on the right side...it's small, just two pumps and a rundown building, but there's a light -- you'll probably see it soon. And a payphone." She shifted her legs just a little -- just to remind herself she could feel the things, really. The jars clinked gently as her movement shifted the bag where it sat between her shoes. Knowing they were only minutes away from the pay phone and her call to Joe the mechanic, Lark kept her head ducks and leant forward, watching for the blink of light through the rain that would be the only streetlamp for miles.

...>.>...-