"Well you earn the top shelf ones regardless." Her smile hints at a good natured tease as Jules accepts the ball from her new acquaintance. "Anyway, I think there's plenty of other games for a bunch of suckers, just gotta know which ones to avoid. This here's a staple. An American institution if you will." Okay now she's playing it up too much and her amusement shifts to the short concourse leading to various pipes of different values. This girl's patience is noted, considering Lilou would've playfully called her a narbo by now.
Satan knows as much as she enjoys mingling with fresh faces, this whole town feels pretty damn empty without her cousin. And despite how fun carnivals are, she'd much rather be here with the other blonde; like a human security blanket. "D'you come to these often? No offense, you just don't look the type." Too pretty.
There was a hint of genuine amusement in the laugh she huffed behind the girl, head bobbing as if she understood and agreed. “An American Institution.” Prudence pursed her lips and held her hands up in mock surrender, sidestepping to give her more room. For all she knew, this girl was going to backswing and lodge a skeeball straight into Pru’s eye socket. Keeping her eyes fixed on the flashing lights of the lane leading up to rings printed with numbers, designating their allotted points, she watched as the girl sent a ball up the lane. “I do.” With arms at her sides and a stiff smile on her lips, Pru leaned against the outer cage of the skeeball machine. “Now don’t you tell me your mommy never taught you not to judge a book by its cover,” laughing aloud, she lifted her brows, “too busy instilling the good ole American Institutions into you instead, I suppose.” Returning her gaze to the lanes once more, now confident she wouldn’t be wounded by the young woman –accidentally at least– she closed in behind her and only stood but a few feet away once again. “What’s your name?”















