[url=https://fontmeme.com/fonts/markus-the-cow-font/][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/200607/b91ac34baa22fac55f0001e5157a0f4b.png[/img][/url] Fidelity caught the discrete look up and down and returned it with one of her own, the hand not on her cane scratching under Basker's chin as she took in her fellow student. Shaggy blonde hair, loose-fitting shirt and dark jeans, he was good looking in a sort of grungy "I either don't care about my appearance or really care about looking like I don't" sort of way. Fiddle answered his question without hesitation or annoyance, so used to them that she didn't even have to stop giving him the once over to do it. Laurence. Solid name, simple without any attached gimmicks or obvious meaning behind it. Certainly nicer than the label she had been saddled with in an attempt to force her into picking up the trait. The American didn't put much thought into her (admittedly pretty blunt) flirting. She called her new acquaintance handsome because she thought he was, sat down next to him because she wanted to rest her leg and felt like getting closer to him. There was no room in her mind to fill with worries about whether she was being too forward, the same compulsion to scream down freeways and burn through pill bottles kicking in under these much more mundane circumstances. So Fiddle made herself comfortable, shoulder just brushing against Laurence's. He was stammering now, tripping over his words in a way that made her smile sweetly. Maybe she'd be able to go to dinner or a movie or something with him instead of spending another night feeding her various addictions? Or maybe he'd be scared off by the appearance of some blond bimbo too stupid to use a map. [color=red]"Sure thing, I'm not going anywhere. Not too quickly anyway![/color] It was self-deprecating laughter born out of a need to feel something other than annoyance, or else she was going to smack the interloper upside her thick head with her cane. [color=red]"Next time maybe look for people not in a conversation, or wait until they're finished?[/color] She was struggling to keep her tone neutral, all sorts of colorful language barely restrained. Turner was the one thing keeping Fiddle from unleashing her true opinion about the idiot, the subtle [i]tap-tap[/i] of her cane on the floor calling him over to rest his head in her lap. [color=red]"We were kinda in the middle of something there.[/color] Fiddle didn't actually say [color=red][i]"You blind, deaf and dumb bitch."[/i][/color] but it was certainly implied. [@Landaus Five-One]