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Zara Peer


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Born: October 12, 2017 Forum Topics Started: 0
Race: Werewolf Forum Posts / Replies: 0
Affiliation: No Affiliation Mail Replies Sent: 5
Home City: Los Angeles Mail Sent: 2
In Union With: Not in Union Last Login:
Currently Online:
02/05/18 at 8:46 pm
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That Girl

Last five threads posted in:
Erica Stone 10/31/17 RS
"I don't know, I just don't particularly remember us ever being friends."
Erica Stone 10/30/17 RS
"Flowers? This is... a joke, right?"
Erica Stone 10/12/17 It doesn’t take a f*cking detective to pick up on the reluctance in Zara’s voice. “Jeez. Sorry I asked,” Rickie quips, “I was just trying to make up for all the times I practically drooled on your register.”

If she had been so inclined, Rickie could’ve found all kinds of information on the young barista with the swift click of a mouse. Even without a last name. After all, it’s what she does for a living. Instead, she chose to be less creepy and admire from across the coffee shop.

That is, before she tried to hold a real conversation with the woman.

Quickly and dismissively, she mirrors Zara’s two finger salute. No one likes an attitude, even if it has a pretty face. And a smile brighter than the sun. Evidently, Rickie needs to re-evaluate her taste in women because, as it stands, Zara’s kind of a b*tch.
Erica Stone 10/12/17 Rickie clears her throat. ”Detective. It’s Detective Stone.” The correction isn’t meant to be attitudinal. She’s just so exasperated with how her brothers call her ‘Officer Erica’ that such a reaction has become habit. Before she can continue, the barista is already slipping past her.

”Yeah, tomorrow - Wait!”

She’s not quite ready for this interaction to be over yet. So, the redhead takes a few steps forward to close the distance. ”You know my name, but I don’t know yours.” Rickie arches a brow, a small smile now tugging at the corner of her lips. Somehow, she’s growing comfortable in conversation. Maybe it’s the lack of pushy, demanding, impatient coffee drinkers behind her, or maybe it’s because seeing this woman outside of her workplace has brightened her day some. Either way, she gives herself a mental pat on the back for forming some coherent sentences.
Erica Stone 10/12/17 Rickie is tempted to launch into a longwinded explanation as to why she’s without her coffee, but instead chooses only to shrug. ”To work, yeah. Not, no. Not to the café. I’m already late. You should tell your mother, though, that stabbings rarely happen in broad daylight.”

Rickie will never know how that is supposed to be, in any way, reassuring to the barista’s mother. With a shake of her head, she reaches to pluck her phone from the woman’s small hand. Glancing down, her lips press into a thin line. Of f*cking course. Her eyes slide shut as she takes another moment to collect her composure.

”Good thing I’m booked solid for the next two weeks. This is exactly what I needed.”

Sarcasm is palpable in her tone as she pockets her phone, shattered screen and all. She presses a palm to her forehead, sighs, and then attempts a smile. “Sorry for the collision,” she says, finally, “I have to run. Sarge… my boss is already mad at me, and I…”

Her shoulders bob in a defeated shrug. “I gotta go. See you around?”
Erica Stone 10/12/17 She remembers. Holy sh*t, she remembers. Rickie feels the heat of embarrassment rush into her cheeks, and she knows they’re almost the same color as her hair.

Of course she remembers, you d*ckhead. When're you ever not loitering when she's on the clock? Jesus.

Rickie almost rolls her eyes in response to her silent monologue. She inhales sharply, re-centering herself. When she’s ready, she can only a sheepish grin. ”Yeah. With a ‘c’,” she responds, "How... I'm sorry I ran into you. I hope you're alright?”

She begins to reach toward the woman, but stops abruptly. Not okay. One would think that Rickie Stone, an LAPD detective, would have more cool than this. Sad reality? She doesn’t. At least, not when The Cute Barista is involved. It’s borderline pathetic. Her hovering hand reaches up to tuck a strand of red hair behind her ear, then moves to rub the back of her neck nervously thereafter.

“Day off?”

Erica Stone 10/12/17 Rickie Stone is running late. She's hardly ever known to be tardy, but today is just going to be one of those days. She could feel it in her bones - she’d already had a rather disastrous morning. Her mother had called to remind her that she was visiting in two days; not that Rickie would admit to forgetting in the first place. Barney, her Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, got sick all over the carpet, which, of course, she had to clean up on her own. Not to mention she didn’t have time to stop for coffee on her way to the precinct. F*ck today.

Her phone rings as she makes her way across the street. “Stone.”

A pause.

“I’m a block away. No, my f*cking dog… yes, sir.” A quiet groan.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m hustling.”

Rickie’s pace quickens; taking the street corner a tad too swiftly, she collides with the slight frame of a young, brown haired woman. She’s sputtering apologies before she can collect herself.

“I’m a f*cking mess today. I’m really…”

Her next words get caught in the back of her throat as she finally catches a glimpse of the woman in front of her. It’s the barista she’s had total heart eyes for. Naturally. That particular café isn’t even on Rickie's direct route to work. But, she’d made the habit of leaving a little earlier, just to stop in to catch a glimpse of this Earth angel. Of course, she justified it by saying the establishment had “good vibes, and good coffee.”

“Uh, hi."
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