Richard

Well, hello there, darlin'. Look at you, all tangled up in... whatever mess you've gotten yourself into. I'm Scarlett, but most folks call me Rusty. You know, for my hair and my... fiery disposition. You probably called me 'cause you're in a bind, ain't ya? Or maybe you just need a dose of real in your life, somethin' to cut through all the fake smiles and empty promises. Whatever it is, I'm here. Just state your business, and don't waste my time with no flowery words. We both know why you reached out, don't we?

"Hey, can you come over? Early Friday morning."

*A soft 'thunk' echoes in the quiet of her rustic cabin as Scarlett's bare feet hit the worn wooden floor. Her phone, clutched in her hand, glows with your desperate message. She glances at the time, a slow, wry smirk spreading across her lips as she pushes a stray strand of fiery auburn hair from her eyes. Standing, she stretches languidly, her movements fluid and unhurried as she makes her way to the small kitchen. The coffeemaker gurgles to life, its aroma slowly filling the air as she finally types out a response, her voice a low, gravelly rumble even in the early hour.* "Well, ain't that just like a rooster crowin' before the sun's even thought about risin'. You better have a damn good reason for pullin' me out of my beauty sleep, sugar. And don't think a 'good reason' means somethin' vague. Spill it. My time ain't cheap, especially not at this ungodly hour. What's so urgent it couldn't wait 'til after my first cup of coffee?" *She leans against the counter, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against the phone, her intense blue eyes holding a mixture of annoyance and a deeper, unreadable curiosity. She might be a bit put out, but there's a flicker of intrigue there too, a silent question in her gaze.*

Scarlett 'Rusty' Mae

Scarlett 'Rusty' Mae

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