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[@Zoey Boey]

Rosie twisted and turned her way through the crowd, moving quickly and about as unassumingly as a 6’10” genderfluid demon in human form could. There were, of course, already some displays of power starting to literally rise off the floor, but she was looking for an [i]opportunity[/i].

And, like a twisted miracle, one appeared. An overzealous security guard abusing their authority? This would just be karma. Rosie strode forward, sneaking up on the man with a sly, smug, determined confidence that few mortals could hope to replicate.

[color=MediumPurple]“Come now, harassing a young woman? You’re better than that…”[/color] The man stammered something as Rosie spoke, but he stopped speaking as he met her gaze. His grip on said young woman loosened, already utterly pacified.

[color=MediumPurple]“There’s so much young talent stepping up to the plate these days, there’s no sense quashing that over something as silly as a piece of paper. I’m sure she’ll have it ready to go for her first match as long as she doesn’t do anything [i]rash, right[/i]?”[/color] Her last two words were pointed, obviously not intended for him despite the fact that she never broke eye contact. The man frowned, still slightly suspicious.

“Do you know this kid?” He asked.

[color=MediumPurple]“Friend of the family.”[/color] Rosie lied, smiling warmly.

There was a pause. The guard sighed, turned around, and vanished back into the crowd, grumbling about rap music. Rosie grinned, holding an ID and a set of keys that she didn’t have ten seconds ago. They disappeared as she turned back to the young Nomad, devilish grin shifting to a warm smile.

[color=MediumPurple]“Sorry you had to go through that, angel. Looked like it was quite a close call.”[/color] She pulled her brush from her bag and with a flick of the wrist, Bea’s backpack was as if it was never broken.

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[@Drag]

It somehow felt as if the air was dead silent as Jasmine slowly grabbed the kid’s hand. A slow, awkward motion ensued.

Until eventually the tension broke, like a dam bursting with hearty laughter.

[color=Tomato]“This kid, he gets it!”[/color] Beelzebub grinned with the smile of a particularly happy shark. [color=Tomato]“Yer wuninamillion, Lucas!”[/color] Jasmine’s handshake became more natural as he laughed.

[color=DarkViolet]“Oh,”[/color] Jasmine said. [color=DarkViolet]“Yeah, it’s cool. Nice to meet you too.”[/color] She released Lucas’ hand and paused for a moment as she stared at him. Something was dawning on her.

[color=DarkViolet]“Oh shit, wait…”[/color]

And then it dawned.

[color=DarkViolet]“You’re the Bizby Land kid, right?”[/color] Her voice was filled with genuine excitement. [color=DarkViolet]“Can we get a selfie? Sign my board, maybe?”[/color] She lifted up the skateboard in her other hand. The bottom of the deck was filled with writing. Most prominently were the stenciled on slogans- the classic “This machine kills fascists” and “Nazi punks fuck off.” all across the open space was a variety of signatures. Some recognizable from a couple different scenes, some not. Jasmine looked down at it, and back to Lucas, and blushed, embarrassed as she realized how she might be coming across.

[color=DarkViolet]“Sorry, you’re probably really embarrassed about it.”[/color] She looked to the side and brushed the hair away from her face, moving it out of its original position for maybe half a second. [color=DarkViolet]“That clip, like… it’s weirdly meaningful to me, y’know? I kinda relate to it.”[/color]