An expensive revertant, intimate seating, soft candle light. A striking pair, each dressed in the latest fashions, the dinner service processed in the rhythm of a fine dinning dinner service everywhere, that is, until;

"Ahh! No! You can't do this to me!! My dad's disgusting gross rich Jeremy! Disgusting gross rich. You can't propose to someone else!" a resentful sneer appears on her lips, altering the canvas of her professionally applied makeup, "I'm breaking up with you!" comes a high shriek, standing the chair screeching against the floor, and tumbles into the table behind her, "I am leaving!"

"You know babe, you kinda say that a lot." the man - Jeremy - says, unfolding a fabric napkin and placing on his lap, "And you're kinda y'know...causing a scene."

Another scream strangled this time, along with a huff, leaning her weight on the table and grabbing her Chanel clutch, "And don't follow me!" she screams, spinning on her Louboutin heels, the slender brunette and stalks out the door.







R'lyeh hums, under breath and off tune. Her large thrifted jacket around her shivering frame, hands reach up to push the dumpster lid open, before her wild mane of bleached blonde hair a riot of curls and frizz around her shoulders (and drip-drip-dripping-and-spill-spill-spilling all at the same time), an oil-black reaches back to shove the frizzy mess away from her face, while the other reaches down into the dumpster, tearing at a black garbage bag and hoping for gold.

"Oooooh, bear claw~" she coos, as she pulled of a snot filled paper napkin off the top of the half eaten and, yup-that's-some-cigarette-ash-on-top-bear claw, she brushes what she can off it, before shrugging and take a hearty bite.

Her other hand, already busy searching for something else.