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♢♦♢ WOW-EE! OH, BABY, I'D LIKE TO GNAW ON YOUR TWIGS! ♢♦♢
It had been Alice Cullen who opened the door of her home for the one, and only, Harlequin of Crime and Mischief. Her wild, short hair frames the shock expression on her beautifully shaped face. The homicidal maniac before her plants on an awfully large grin and makes herself at home by confidently stepping into the foyer. Her pale hands grip onto a black duffel bag and her infamous charbroiled beaver. A soft hum escapes her throat as she spins to find the vegetarian vampire staring back at her with confusion written all over her face. ".. What," she casually asks. It's as if she hadn't just showed up to her friend's house without warning. "Do I got somethin' on my face?"
Alice, the female vampire, quickly masks her shock with a genuine welcoming smile and shakes her head. "No. No," she kindly replies. She gently shuts the front door closed and continues to explain. "I just.. I didn't expect your arrival."
Normally whenever someone plans on arriving to the Cullen's home, the fortune telling immortal would receive a warning. But in this case, she didn't. Of course, she's not bothered by Harleen's presence. She loves the human with all she has to offer. She's just slightly bothered by her lack of warning. If she knew her best friend was coming for a visit, she would have prepared buckets-full of food for her, gotten her makeup-stand ready, gathered a racket-full of clothing for her to dress upon. She would have had everything planned. But what can you expect? Harleen is the very definition of the unexpected.
The unexpected guest playfully scoffs and waves her hand in the air, wearing a small smile. "I just thought you could use the company, ya know? .. That's all," she swiftly answers.
It's a lie.
If anything, she is the one who is in desperate need of companionship. It has all been getting to her: the death of her beloved, the sudden move, being away from her friends and family in New York, not being able to find a job. I mean, can you really blame her for befriending a dead beaver? The world is just tossing that poor girl in every which way, and there's nothing to do but hold onto something close and wait to see what happens next.
Her lips spread into a slight smile as she looks around the house, observing the very same decor she had previously seen the day she was invited for the first time. "I love what ya did with the place," she starts. "Looks the same as it did the day before yesterday." A small laugh escapes her lips and she turns to Alice, still holding Bernie to her chest. "Ya got a bathroom by the way? I gotta twinkle."
Held by her tattooed arm, Bernie begins to speak to her. "This that Alicia girl ya was talkin' 'bout, Sweetness," he asks, referring to the pixie - like vampire.
A childish giggle escapes his owner's throat. She beams a smile at Alice, her mood completely shifted to happiness. All of this is made possible by her talking beaver, who had made a funny remark. "I think my Bernie likes ya, Dandelioness," she says, calling Alice by the new nickname she has for her. 'Dandelioness' is inspired by the bouquet of wildflowers the fortune teller had gifted her the day she came into her home. Happy again, she mischievously hides the dead animal behind her back. "Ya wanna meet my beaver," she mysteriously asks.
