rosalinverville:
While Rosaline does put up coloured lights around the diner during Christmas season, she’s not usually so concerned with adorning her restaurant with festive decorations. She knows, as well as any other citizen of Sallybrook, that the coming month was hardly a time for celebration, the march towards winter being as much as a march towards despair, and it seemed that most appreciated the simplicity of the diner that didn’t feel like it needed to compensate for anything.
She sees it on the faces of those who visits, especially from her older patrons, the effort to ward off the sense of doom with every gesture of nonchalance, the unease hidden behind every smile. It can be hard to escape all the conversations lingering with dread and anger now, so she was glad when it was Leila that came through when she looked up as she heard the door open. She watched her slip into a booth, and followed by seating herself across her, sideways, an elbow leaning on the table and her legs hanging out. “Got whole documents of those,” she chimed in in response to Leila, before interjecting her own lines, “unless you mean hey what’s up, then unfortunately I have very little to share.”
“What brought you here today? Leila,” she said, leaning back into the seat, her lips curled up affectionally. “It can’t really be the food, can it?”
Leila knows there’s no such thing as “safety” in Sallybrook and is under no impression that it was ever promised to them. Given the town’s history, Leila almost expected to be at the very least falsely promised. Hell, in her eyes it may have given some people a sense of safety which would have made them ideal targets for the Haunt. Wouldn’t that prove their desire for revenge? The last thing she’d be convinced of is that the Haunt chooses people at random and all she wants is some answers.
She smiles politely at Rosa before responding, “Now why would I ask that when I can see what you’re up to?” With another glance around, she had a feeling that Rosa didn’t have many options for good company. Sure, restaurant employees never should let a customer know their business isn’t wanted, but Leila knows there are always those that make it hard to even be civil. “Decor included, I’d say you have good taste.”
With fingers laced, she sets cold hands on top of the menu she doesn’t need to open. “Come on, give yourself more credit than that. This is what I call the perfect hangover cure - or comfort food, but tell me those aren’t the same thing.”













