Striking Looks
Mantle Dry Heat
Circe had returned from her morning "jog" through the dog park. Her backpack was lighter as she'd "donated" some things earlier. She'd done this regularly with clothing, books, and canned food to bins to make it seem normal just in case. Paranoia could pay off. As for the dog park? Puppies are cute give her a break.
As she was taking a breath by the entrance, Circe heard shouting. Probably everybody heard it. A large woman with a whining child was yelling at a tall, slim woman that was holding a miniature doberman. Circe had seen the latter here before with the doberman, recalling something about adopting it or another noble act like that. The two loud mortals were new. She can feel the rage boiling off of those two. The bratty boy is throwing a massive tantrum, and is getting loud enough to make Circe's ears flatten. His mother isn't any more civil.
The large woman demands the dog beg given to her child to keep because her son is a good boy and should get everything he wants. Circe's ears can pick up the dog's growl at the pair even from here, and she can feel the rage seething off the entitled mortals.
Circe walks over to draw in the rage from the vile family. Playing hero isn't a priority. She gives a little hand wave to none in particular as she walks over to soak up the Glamour.
"Oi! Ce' un problema?" And the woman turns, "No Mexican there isn't and you can't even pronounce your own words right!" before snapping back to yelling at the dog owner for not giving her dog to a total stranger. Circe's ears flatten both in rage and pain because the woman's voice was like nails on a chalkboard. "Italian American actually ya racist bitch," the woman freezes in place at this. She spins back to Circe, "How dare you?! How could something like you call be racist?!"
"Easily," was the snarked reply. Her red eyes dart to the woman with the dog who is now backing off. Such gratitude.
"What?!"
Okay that actually hurt. "Eas. Ah. Lee. It means without difficulty. Not hard. Simple. Doubtless. Ya could look it up in a dictionary if ya don't know the words," the smile on Circe's face is pure cruelty. The brat is tugging on his mother's coat and trying to get her attention.
And wow, there is way more anger now.
"I know what it means!"
Circe shrugged non-chalantly, "Then why did ya ask what? Don't make sense ta ask if ya weren't ignorant."
"Are you calling me ignorant!" And pushes her child away, "Mommy is correcting this bad bad person my precous sugar woogar dumpling," Circe wanted to gag on that.
"Oh no I'm bad by the standards of someone that tried ta treat a living creature like property," she gives the woman the finger and walks away, "Mentre prendo e restituisco proiettili per altre creature viventi. However will I live with myself? Oh I know. Happily!"
The boy started to whine at his and she shushed him. "Well it should be his dog anyway and, wha? Where is that dog?!" And lo and behold the brat points out the dog owner left. Of course the mother yells at him for not telling her. And then turns on Circe to rant.
The elfin blueberry had enough as her fist freezes an inch from the woman's face. As the woman falls down in panic the middle finger rises from the fist, "Well fuck off and have a terrible day. Hope ya get mugged."
And leaves while the woman gapes at her and the brat begins asking what a fuck is.
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