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Erica Stone


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Sometimes it's hard being this attractive. (Read: awkward)
Mail   ~   Attack   ~   Steal
Born: October 12, 2017 Forum Topics Started: 0
Race: Slayer Forum Posts / Replies: 0
Affiliation: No Affiliation Mail Replies Sent: 9
Home City: Los Angeles Mail Sent: 0
In Union With: Not in Union Last Login:
Currently Online:
03/13/18 at 7:48 pm

Erica Stone's Biography
Erica Stone's Friends ~ 
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Last five threads posted in:
Zara Peer 10/30/17

"They" :(
Zara Peer 10/26/17
W_Kat 10/24/17 Congrats on PotD!
Rhiannon Whitaker 10/14/17 *walks by*
*stares, definitely slack-jawed*
I.. So...
*takes picture, definitely awkward*
*so shook, walks away*
Zara Peer 10/12/17 Zara will never understand how people assume she's always on shift. Outside of the time she's on the other side of the counter, she's under no obligation to put up with customers forgetting their boundaries. Frankly, it's annoying.

"Look, I just make your needy cappuccinos. I'm not looking for friends." With a sarcastic roll of the eyes, she disappears.
Zara Peer 10/12/17 Just as she's successfully slipping away, she is stopped in tracks again. "Oh, well, Detective you'll have to excuse me." There's a pft of a scoff from her lips. Zara's eyes are opened a little bit wider, her interest waning.

"My name is Zara." She'd almost slipped away without any damage done, but it seems the lax policy of Reed's Roastery couldn't protect her from pushy customers after hours. "Listen, I'm going to be late, well, later than I already am. So I'll see you around, 'Detective'."
Zara Peer 10/12/17 "How reassuring.." Zara's eyes go wide before she remembers to control her response. "I'm sure you'll figure it all out. You seem capable, Officer Erica." There's the lilt of a tease as she refers to her as 'Officer', impressed, at least in part, by her uniform.

"Tomorrow morning, 7 AM sharp, right?" Zara gives a two finger salute from her forehead. Once she's facing the other direction, she rolls her eyes. 'Erica' must just be socially awkward as a standard, or she would have asked for her number already.

Zara isn't sure what scenario she prefers.
Zara Peer 10/12/17 "No, I'm just..." Late. There's a red wave of embarrassment filling her cheeks, and she shakes her head slightly. "I was on my way to work, actually." Her eyes fall on her empty hands, noting she is, in fact, sans coffee. "I'm guessing you were on your way to the same place?"

Of course Zara remembers 'Erica'. She's in every day, or at least, every day that Zara is working. "I'm fine, really. Just surprised. I'm sure my mom thinks I've been stabbed, but she'll survive." Zara adjusts her bag, hands fidgeting with the strap. "I think you may have cracked your phone, though."

She bends down, collecting the discarded device that was face down on the concrete. Small, spidery cracks billowed out across the expanse of the glass screen. Busted. "That'll be a fun few hours at the Genius Bar."
Zara Peer 10/12/17 Zara, however, is the complete opposite. Being 30 minutes late to work is of no consequence. She wanders the bustling streets of Los Angeles with a pace that often earns her the ire and curses of many commuters on foot. She isn't harsh, or stressed. In fact, her mood is often completely at ease.

"No, mom. I'm not doing heroin. Being a barista doesn't exactly cover all of my expenses sometimes..." She has a quirky tone, which matches the interesting ensemble of clothes she's currently dressed in. Brown chukka boots, high-waist jeans, and the baggiest of sweaters. It doesn't look fastastic, but it's very 'LA'. She's speaking into the microphone attached to her earbud, the voice on the other end delivering a rapid fire retort.

And she's listening, all until she's nearly knocked on her ass by a flash of red hair. "Jesus Christ!" She curses, stumbling back a step before she regains her bearings. "Mom? Call you back." She cuts the line just as her mother launches into a barrage of 'what the f-s'.

"Oh, you're.." The stalker. She's the regular who always leaves obscene tips and can't seem to form coherent sentences when ordering. "Erica with a 'c', right?" There's a hint of humor to her musical tone, lips quirked in an amused bow.
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