[b]Vivian Everett[/b]

"That will be $8.79, do you need a bag with that?" [i]'God let it be over'[/i]

Vivian groaned inside of her own head, suffering through the boring existence that was working behind a cash register. Money changed hands and a product was bagged up, and the customer was sent on his way. Much to her relief as she waited for the next person to show up. There was no other pressing business that she had to tend to at the moment, so she could just stand there and wait for her shift to end.

This wasn't exactly the best job one could have, but it met her needs well enough in terms of money and mostly importantly of all it provided her with plenty of free time. This wasn't how her parents had imagined she would end up, and to be honest she hadn't either. Though it was still a major drain on her nerves and personality. 

But at last her shift ended, and she was free to head out to her life away from customers and pretentious idiots and all that. "See you later," she called to her replacement as she swept out the door, heading into the evening light. The sweet taste of freedom embraced her, and she wasted no time in heading towards the parking lot to retrieve her motorcycle. There was a spring in her step now that she was off the clock, and Vivian was very much looking forward to enjoying her day.

The vehicle soon came into sight, a burgundy color for a lean machine that she had spent way too much time, effort, and devotion to customizing in any way that she could with her own particular skills. It was her ticket to freedom after all, and she cherished her machine as much as anyone in the same position would. Not that her parents cared about her dedication and ideals but who cared about what they thought. She hadn't talked with them in a long while regardless, and she was just glad that San Francisco was big enough to keep it that way. 

She was just stowing away her things for the trip when the phone buzzed to indicate that she had a text. An eyebrow rose as she glanced at it, trying to figure out what was actually written before it clicked. At which point she went back to ignoring it in general. "Nice try, now pull another one," she muttered aloud in disbelief. Twenty years and then this? No fucking way. This was probably some drunk prank or something, that was the only explanation. 

At least, up until that telepathic presence made itself known in her head. "Geez, give a girl some warning," she protested as she hopped onto her bike. "They're tough girls, I'm sure they've got it under control." Roaring the engine, she headed off into the city and in the general direction of her predetermined destination. She wasn't in any sort of hurry to leap to their defense, not for something she was confident they could handle in their sleep.