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[[OOC: Forgive the Nevada jokes-> missing a friend who's out there with her mom]]
Tarot crossed her arms over her chest, glowering at each of them in turn. What the bloody hell? Sure this wasn't her home but she deserved some privacy, damn it. Maybe it was just this city but no one here seemed to have any manners, attempting to dig through her mind like a dog would in a public garden. She wasn't going to have any of it and, if something didn't change soon things were going to get very screwy, very fast. She clicked her teeth together. And not the way the kid wanted it either.
Pretty lady was Zeth's wife, hmm? Didn't seem like a handful; other than the... whatever she had going on. Tarot wasn't about to touch histories or lineages- she had enough of that to deal with herself, thankyou. She shook off all vestiges of temper the best she could, forcing her scatter shot, sleep deprived and thoroughly irritated mind to focus in on the subject. Lucian's Mummy. Could have been a nice enough woman, though her parenting ideals were... questionable- making her, therefore, not nice at all. Whoever raised their kid to behave like this one deserved a smack upside the head, followed by immediate death. It was how her family had rolled for generations and look- they had nothing but excellence to show for it.
Benjamins. She knew that term. Someone, somewhere at some point in time had used it. Nothing came to mind but neon signs, a dead guy and the color green. Vegas? No, no. In context that didn't work at all. Reno, perhaps?
...Hell no. Not any better.
Ah! Yes! Money. Oooh. Dead (from the way everyone was talking about her, it was presumable) woman had cash. Buried. In the garden? That wasn't sensible. The stock market wasn't due to crash again for a few more decades, give or take. Tarot tapped each golden ring on her finger in turn before flipping her hands over and flicking the single thin, silver band on her opposing thumb. Curiouser and curiouser.
This was probably going to be a helluva lot more fun than hanging in Dublin would have been- minus the comfort, ease of her own wardrobe and the general sense of being 'at home'. And, in this situation, if things went to hell in a hatbox she could make a break for it without having to feel her guilt (mom again) threatening to take over. Survival of the fittest, or, well, prettiest.
She shot a glare at Zeth's wife once more. Or, in this case, second place.
Screw your needs. Tarot raised an eyebrow. Never be cryptic with a fairy in the room, small-ish child. Not her best lines, she would admit. But she didn't know his stupid name (NTS: find that out) and she wanted to know.
Baaaaaddddddddd.
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tarot.deuce
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