The Witching Hr » Places

         “Whatever you did to me, whatever you planned… It brought Legba to me. Do you know he was promised my soul? That man - thing, entity… He wants what was promised to him. Aside from nearly killing me, giving me a fucking aneurysm, you almost gave me away to some black magic, purgatory deity. I don’t think you know what that felt like, Rowe. You might have seen some shit. You may have killed other people, for all I know. But don’t look at me with an ounce of sympathy like you understand what you’ve done. What you’ve done to me," Pell ranted, tying her hair back as she did. The actions seemed to be trying to say that she wasn't really that upset, or at least interested, but Rowe knew better. Whether she even recognized it or not, she was freaking out. But still... You don't want sympathy? he thought to himself, eyeing her for a moment before turning his gaze away, uninterested. You never had it.

She started talking again. But he was only half listening. Something about working together, which actually made him laugh under his breath. Pell didn't trust him, not in the slightest. And Rowe wasn't feeling particularly helpful after the condescending speech she just gave him. To think I actually was feeling guilty a few minutes ago. The air around them was tense, but it was more from their current situation of being on the run than their own personal problems. He paused, looking up and down the street as they began walking again. He didn't really know where anything was, if he was honest. He didn't get out much. On an impulse he stuck his hand in his pocket to find his candy only to realize he had none. He was wearing his black ceremony pants, the pockets were empty. Rowe's eye twitched slightly in irritation, but he tried to bury the feeling and focus on the problem in front of them. But focusing on the fact that they were screwed only made the irritation worse.

"God dammit," he growled aloud, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He was tired, he realized. His eye lids felt heavy and his feet were dragging. "We'll get a hotel. I can get us a room," he said, his voice more confident that he felt. They had no money, but he could probably influence whoever was behind the counter to give them a room. And think that they paid. And weren't kids. Maybe. Usually the most he could pull off with concilium was get someone to walk out of the room he was in so he didn't have to talk to them. But what other options did they have? Sleeping under a bridge was not going to work.

(OOC: Tell me if I need to change anything. Sorry its so late. Vacations and stuff~ oops. )