Despite Louisiana’s current lack of real fall foliage, Reina’s red heels still manage to pierce through a few leaves as she walks around the Preserve. The air has for once cooled down enough that it actually feels like fall, and Reina’s oddly grateful for the fur coat she’s been forced to wear as part of the matching costume her daughter had coerced her and Jack into. While she usually just opts for a black outfit and fake blood that turns her into some sort of vague vampire person — or better than that, nothing at all — she’s now decked out in a full Cruella de Vil ensemble due to her inherent inability to tell her daughter no. It’s admittedly not a bad look, and she’s at least got an excuse to consistently be smoking at a family event thanks to the long cigarette holder the costume calls for, but Reina’s irritated to have been roped into it anyway and the shitty beer they’re selling at one of the stands isn’t enough to ease her annoyance.
So finally, after wandering off from the rest of her family in an attempt to find a secluded area, she stumbles upon just that and doesn’t hesitate to pull the flask of Crown apple she’d brought for her and Rowan to share out of her coat pocket. She adds more than her fair share to her styrofoam cup of hot cider, working diligently to make sure she isn’t seen as she does so but her efforts are in vain when she notices someone joining her at the booth she’d decided to hide behind. “It’s apple juice,” she deadpans, lifting an eyebrow as an invitation for her intruder to challenge her about putting apple juice into what is, essentially, just more apple juice. “Is that going to be an issue?”
