The metalhead nodded affirmatively--a quick, minuscule movement in the muscles of her neck, a tiny motion of her head. "Yep," she stated gruffly. Tinges of an accent trailed her voice. "Haven't really changed, have I?" And in recollection the same was true for Alice. She really had not changed in the past five years. Still had that peppy, happy-go-lucky attitude towards life that Izzie could never comprehend, not even when at sixteen she was the oldest of the group of kids who had coalesced in the town of Freedom in search of peace of mind and clarity. Somehow, there was a lot more maturity in that optimistic outlook and enthusiastic demeanour than Izzie's abrasive, aloof persona and pessimistic cynicism could ever attain, even when Alice had been a mere eleven years old and Izzie, a sixteen year old fighter, couldn't help but feel that she was naive and innocent--too much so, bound for catastrophe and disaster at any moment. The same eager, friendly attitude she displayed now would seem to negate that...but Izzie was well aware people could very easily camouflage the darkness devouring their souls.
Wow, that was just about the most emo thing I've ever thought. Someone just shoot me now.
"It's amazing to see you again," Alice continued happily. "How's everything been?" Seemed Izzie barely had an opportunity to wonder just how she was going to answer that question before Alice had glanced back out the window and pointed; the older woman turned her eyes to the side, and saw in the corner of her eye, someone approaching--a rather eccentric sort of someone, which was very much in keeping with how Izzie remembered the girl. A couple of minutes later, she came bursting through the door, all but beat down a couple of dudes along the way, and then nearly threw herself down into the seat next to Alice. "I haven't seen you guys in forever!" she exclaimed excitedly. Izzie remained silent at this, content to let Alice address that as she glanced back out the window, noticing the motorcycle that she'd seen parked nearby the restaurant. She turned back to Alice. "Harley Davidson Blockhead," she intoned, recognising the make and model. "Yours?"
As she took in Alice's answer, Izzie couldn't help but notice someone--years of getting into countless fights and assorted other life-threatening situations had, at the very least, granted her a degree of perception that enabled her to realise that a guy standing nearby was staring at them. Staring at Alice, which caused Izzie's instincts to flare up. Being the eldest of the group back those five years ago hadn't counted for nothing. Izzie'd ended up regarding herself as the overbearing protector of the young group of runaways--somehow, even though she'd gone into it determined never to get attached emotionally to any of them, she wound up caring fiercely for every one of them. And this dude was coming off as a serious creep the way he was staring at them as if he knew them--knew them familiarly.
So of course, she dealt with it the first and foremost way she knew--abruptly and to the point. "Hey," she turned the baleful glare of her dark, heavy-lidded eyes on him. "What the hell are you staring at?"
EDIT OOC NOTE: You know, I just realised these twelve posts thus far have been pretty much from the same few people. Maybe we should wait a bit for others to post before going on.