[This is all too familiar to Rhonda. Not even familiar in the comfortably distant sense-- this is feels far too recent for her liking.
She's been walking in circles for what feels like hours now and every second weighs on her shoulders. Maybe it's just paranoia wearing her down but she swears that she can hear giggling in the distance-- distinctly childlike.
All of this reminds her of a situation she'd found herself in recently. A situation involving a bus of children that were supposedly murdered on a night like this. A situation in which a bunch of kids from school tried to play a sick joke on her. A situation that, ultimately, lead to the prank blowing up in their faces while Rhonda left them behind and--
Oh god. Oh god what if this is some sort of punishment? What if she's finally getting her comeuppance for abandoning the others? No, no. They deserved what they got. If given the chance they would have done the same. Hell, they practically did the same to her already. But still, she can't help but wonder.
She turns around, her boots crunching on the leaves beneath her. Even though her glasses slip a little as she turns her head skyward she doesn't move to adjust them. Perhaps this mixture of terrified concentration on the woods surrounding her and the sounds of it are why she doesn't notice you approach. Perhaps that's why she nearly jumps out of her skin, falling to the ground and pushing herself away from you hurriedly with her feet.]
Get away from me! Get away!
THREE: SHADE
[Being well-informed on a wide variety of topics is one of Rhonda's special interests and something she takes great pride in. Sure it's gotten her head dunked in a toilet on a number of occasions but really what about her hasn't? That's all in the past now. What's important is how she's been changing.
Her skin had translucent and dark-- she'd call it shadowy if she were more poetic. Slowly but surely she found that she no longer needed her glasses to see. In fact she could see better without them now more than ever. On the topic of her eyes they're completely white now and they glow. That's a shade if ever Rhonda had seen one. Or, rather, read of one.
Regardless of how much she might know about monsters it's a whole other thing becoming one. Getting used to this form is becoming difficult. She quite literally can't get a grasp on the situation, you find, as you spot her struggling to hold onto a book. It phases through her hands, falling with a thud on the sidewalk (revealing its title: "How To Deal With Changes"). Though it might seem futile she doesn't know when to give it up. She just keeps trying to pick that sucker up.
Why don't you give her a hand? Hers are out of commission.]
rhonda | trick r treat
[This is all too familiar to Rhonda. Not even familiar in the comfortably distant sense-- this is feels far too recent for her liking.
She's been walking in circles for what feels like hours now and every second weighs on her shoulders. Maybe it's just paranoia wearing her down but she swears that she can hear giggling in the distance-- distinctly childlike.
All of this reminds her of a situation she'd found herself in recently. A situation involving a bus of children that were supposedly murdered on a night like this. A situation in which a bunch of kids from school tried to play a sick joke on her. A situation that, ultimately, lead to the prank blowing up in their faces while Rhonda left them behind and--
Oh god. Oh god what if this is some sort of punishment? What if she's finally getting her comeuppance for abandoning the others? No, no. They deserved what they got. If given the chance they would have done the same. Hell, they practically did the same to her already. But still, she can't help but wonder.
She turns around, her boots crunching on the leaves beneath her. Even though her glasses slip a little as she turns her head skyward she doesn't move to adjust them. Perhaps this mixture of terrified concentration on the woods surrounding her and the sounds of it are why she doesn't notice you approach. Perhaps that's why she nearly jumps out of her skin, falling to the ground and pushing herself away from you hurriedly with her feet.]
Get away from me! Get away!
THREE: SHADE
[Being well-informed on a wide variety of topics is one of Rhonda's special interests and something she takes great pride in. Sure it's gotten her head dunked in a toilet on a number of occasions but really what about her hasn't? That's all in the past now. What's important is how she's been changing.
Her skin had translucent and dark-- she'd call it shadowy if she were more poetic. Slowly but surely she found that she no longer needed her glasses to see. In fact she could see better without them now more than ever. On the topic of her eyes they're completely white now and they glow. That's a shade if ever Rhonda had seen one. Or, rather, read of one.
Regardless of how much she might know about monsters it's a whole other thing becoming one. Getting used to this form is becoming difficult. She quite literally can't get a grasp on the situation, you find, as you spot her struggling to hold onto a book. It phases through her hands, falling with a thud on the sidewalk (revealing its title: "How To Deal With Changes"). Though it might seem futile she doesn't know when to give it up. She just keeps trying to pick that sucker up.
Why don't you give her a hand? Hers are out of commission.]