[color=darkgray]Talulah, being the caring, generous and “anti-social if it wasn’t going to go socially viral” type had resigned herself to the backseat. Plus, Oz had decided to tag along and for some reason she doubted her traveling companions would really want to occupy a seat with the mangy little black wolf looking thing. And Oz, ever the awesome travel companion, had [i]accidently[/i] eaten her offering she had left out in hopes for a safe trip so his breath carried an odor of virgin heart meat. It smelled a bit sweet to Talulah, though likely everyone else would pick up a wafting scent of decay. It was making her wish she’d brought a snack. Every time her stomach grumbled Oz turned his head from the lowered window and gave her that fuckin’ raised eyebrow like he was better than her. She had muttered a “Do you know how hard it is to find a virgin in the City dickhead?” and then later, “We’re all going to fuckin’ die because you ate that offering Mutt” and then finally a simple “Fuck you Oz. I know,” before she realised she didn’t know these people all that well and should probably stop talking to the mangy beast before they decided to throw him out of the car.

A mix-n-match braid style fell from the crown of her head and littered down across a lap that housed her Bottega Veneta tote as well as her attention. Her fingers blurred across the letters of the buttonless keys of her iphone- almost magical, if it wasn’t so exceedingly millennial of her. She wasn’t doing anything important: liking instagram photos of people she thought might like hers, responding to comments on her blog about how to become a blood witch, usually with something sarcastic and humiliating. A few went through with it. Like the girl who saved her period blood for months and then painted her naked body in it and ran around the Bayou until an alligator got her. Unfortunate really, such is the life for a follower though. And hey, maybe she really did become a blood witch and the illuminati just covered the whole thing up with an alligator they had on payroll. Never could tell, and Talulah was not concerned.

She raised the phone upwards and tilted her head just right, pouted her lips just soooo and then snapped seven shots before spending the next thirty minutes choosing one of the photos and then applying the appropriate filter and hashtags: #me #whatIwore #WhatDoYouWearToHell #fuckAlabama #misshome #witches #bitches #PhotoOfTheDay #NYC4lyfe #BloodwitchProblems #DoThesePeopleAllShopAtWalmart #WhatHappensWhenIHaveToPee #Trendy #DoItForTheEnvironment #HarambeWouldStillBeAliveIfThisPlaceDidntExist #NoFilter #SaveMe #Donate2SaveTalulah #ImWilting #ShouldHaveBombedThisPlaceWhenWeHadTheChance. And once it was posted she actually decided to take in the other people in the car. How long had that faux singer been talking? Who was she talking to? Wait, maybe she was a real singer. Talulah suddenly felt she should know the answer to this. I mean, she was in HR. She was still puzzling over all of this when they arrived and the group started heading inside.

After she got out of the car she dove back into her phone to check on how her photo was being received and so she entered the little Inn behind the others. Oz waited outside, or in the car, honestly, Talulah had kind of forgotten about him but he’d turn up. He always did. She was snapped out of it when she felt Sophia-- YES, her name was Sophia, she was in the PR department, but Talulah had no idea if the woman could sing-- staring at her, and then the woman asked about peanut pie. Talulah actually didn’t know it was called pecan pie and assumed peanut pie was some country bumpkin thing and so she shrugged and clipped out. [color=white]“That probably has gluten and I bet these people eat from animal slave laborers and I’m trying to stick with raw anyways.”[/color]

Before their culinary discussion could descend into Talulah reciting why conscious consumerism and raw food diets were better for the animals and the environment Sophia was saved by Mr. Ryan who offered them both keys. Well manicured nails snapped up to grab the key from Mr. Ryan, flashing him an almost genuine smile. She knew who had their checkbook. But then she turned, taking in the Inn with a somewhat horrified expression. Finally her eyes landed on the -jesus, is that what walmart clothes look like? Or did she make those herself?- nervous girl who called this place home and tried to mimic Sophia’s fake little smile. She had never been very good at it and it came out as something of a belittling sneer. [color=white]“Someone [i]is[/i] going to [i]bring us[/i] our bags, [i]correct?[/i]”[/color]

The girl seemed to stutter a bit at the request and Talulah’s cat eye lined baby blues rolled before she pointed a finger at the girl to stop the stuttering. [color=white]“Nevermind. [i]Nevermind.[/i] I’d rather my Prada come out of this with [i]as little taint as possible[/i], thank you though.”[/color] She looked at the others with an expression that clearly said ‘can-you-fucking-believe-this-place?’[/color]