2020-02-08 - Sidewalk Art And Rv Parks

The basket ball court was covered with snow when Tara got here, but that was hours ago. She'd meticulously cleared a pallot for herself until she reached the blacktop and moved over to get her backpack of chalk to begin work on a mural. It's mostly swirling lines of color, wide sweeping angles and untracable lines, but a picture is starting to develop as she moves around on her knees, shuffling side to side and then back as she loops around to add new details to whatever she'd already traced out. A few people have stopped to watch her, but it's too cold out for many of them to stay... it is rather an odd spectacle though. Especially for early Feb.

Yeah, it's cold. Yeah it's wet out, or at least a bit snowy. But that's not exactly new, though, and despite (and thanks to) the reflections of the light off of the snow, Rose is out with her camera. She's in a leather jacket and pants, plus the beefy camera strap around her neck. Wandering around, looking at various things, maybe even occasionally taking a casual snap or two, but mostly just wandering.

Upon entering the general vicinity of the basketball court, she spies the woman working off in the distance, and that ends up being the shot she goes for, capturing Tara scrawling on the ground in chalk as the tiny almost-snowflakes drift down. Far off shots at first, capturing people lurking on the fence as they watch her in turn, but then getting a little closer, skipping the fence and the other people as they head off. The next shots are just the woman in the snow, but she keeps a good enough distance so that she's not lurking over her shoulder, exactly.

Click click click. There's no flash at play, and no audible noise from more than an inch or so away from the professional camera. Eventually, though, Rose calls out to Tara. "Isn't it a little bit counterproductive to be playing with chalk in the snow?"

Tara is out on the basketball court with the snow maticulously removed down to the blacktop in a large enough area for her to work. There's an old backpack full of chalk open beside her and she's just as dutifully kneeling down on her hand and knees scrawling across the dark surface of the court drawing out swirling, colorful, lines in a malestrom of rainbows bright hues. Whatever she's drawing is abstract, at best, but definitely the expression of some thought.

There are darker elements as well.

Amidst the almost landscape, picturesque portrait of her mind that she's playing out in chalk medium, there's a silhouette of shadow that always seems to surface as if it taints whatever she's thinking and then taints whatever she's painting/drawing. Like the last vestages of a bad dream surfacing in conversation.

People are randomly gathered to watch, but they don't stay long because of the cold. Rose, however, is there taking pictures of the artist. The feeling of eyes, one specific pair anyways, draws Tara's attention with a grin settling on her paint streaked face. She doesn't say anything, but she also doesn't seem at all bothered being captured on film.. immediately going back to work without pause.

Ember is doing as Ember's do.

Which is mostly making a late night delivery to some customers and instead of trying to drive their bike in this absolutely horrid mix of rain and snow from earlier that made the roads probable ice rinks they cut through the Faerie Woods and are in the process of cutting through the school property to it the RV park.

People actually out in the winter weather doing something has them absolutely boggled though. What the actual horrid hell.

It is definitely enoguh to get the bundled up person to come over and scope it out. They have a leather jacket, hoodie, winter hat, and gloves on. Also probably thermals under those jeans.

"The fuck?" Ember mutters to themself.

Rose had only really called out in order to get Tara's attention. Or more specifically, to get her to look towards the camera. As soon as the woman turns, Rose's finger holds down over the trigger, taking a series of quick shots. Once she spots that smile though, Rose can't help but return one of her own. The smile wasn't quite what she was intending on, but she'll sure as hell take it.

And yeah, even without the answer, she knows damn well enough that when there's something in your head that needs getting out, it needs getting out no matter what. A little touch of the art brain. If chalk's your medium, what are you gonna do, wait until the sun comes out? This is the Pacific Northwet, after all. If you're waiting for a warm day, you're gonna be waiting until June at the earliest.

Ember's approach and subsequent mumbling gets a quick glance from Rose in their direction, then back at Tara, camera pointed at the artist for a few moments more before Rose allows it to rest against her chest, straining against the strap around her neck. "Sorry, you don't mind, do you? Usually I ask permission first, but.. I didn't want to lose the shot."

Tara is too busy in her art to actually glance up if not directly interrupted, but she's not a conversational blackhole. "No, it's fine. Half the point of street art is being seen and if an artist also finds their muse in the work, then far be it from me to hold them at bay by needing permission!" She says without ever losing her smile. The chalk draws out more swirling lines around a shadowy image that materialized beneath a darker green stick, like she's trying to cover it with color rather than let it become center to what she's working on.

She doesn't even try to make it disappear though.

As sunny as she might be, and she is very sunny.. a beacon of warmth in the otherwise dreary rain/snow, she clearly understands this is every bit the piece as any of the other abstract lines and soft angles.

Her feet come beneath her in a little pop up, hands on the black top to support it, "I think I'm done..." Glancing around herself. There's a small island in the center where she was kneeling, drawing out the pallet /around/ her rather than daring to move through it. As if she's the eye of a storm and everything else is colorful bands.

Her brown eyes jump up to the pair, "oh, hey." Waving to Ember now that they've joined the observationing.

Ember will meander closer now peering at the work being laid on the cleared basketball court. They circle it slowly studying it here and there as Tara finishes up the work. Not stepping into the line of shots though that may be taken by the photographer.

"Why... out here at night in winter.. and why are you here taking photos of it?"

Honestly Ember just sounds puzzled as fuck by the whole artistic situation really.

"I suppose that makes sense. Some tend to have slightly different opinions once they consider that I might end up posting and selling the photos that I take of them. And with a smile like yours, I think that might be a real possibility." Once Tara's standing, Rose picks up the camera again and takes a few more quick shots, twisting it slightly for that particular aesthetic to the photos. "It's quite impressive. Doubly so that you're probably freezing and soaking wet by now."

Rose taps her finger on her camera thoughtfully a few times, her lip bending slightly as she thinks. "Snow has a particular energy to it that you can't get at any other time of year. The way the light bounces off of the ground, off of snow covered trees.. it gives everything a magical quality that can't really be replicated by other means. I was just wandering by and the scene caught my eye." A soft shrug. "Everyone's got their reasons for coming out into the cold. What's yours?" Rose points the camera at Ember's face, though she doesn't press the shutter button.

"I don't sleep much." Tara says to Ember's questions regarding her motivation to come out here at night, turning in a circle now to view the chalk art piece that likely only survives the snow and rain for a day or two before being washed away. "Besides, tomorrow when the kids come in to school, they'll have something beautiful waiting for them... and then it will be gone by mid-afternoon. You know, happiness is kind of fragile. Which is what I'm calling this." Pointing around in a semi-circle with the stick of chalk in her hand like a pointer, "Fleeting Happiness."

Grinning at the person circling her, "I'm Tara." Her bag of chalk is slung up on a shoulder and she dances side step across her own art work towards the outer edge so as not to blur any of the colorful lines and darker smudges. "Andrea, actually, but my parents always called me Andie or Drea... which I thought was kind of derivative, so I decided I wanted to be called Tara."

Grinning up at Rose, "Thank you, I like to think my smile is infectious! I don't know how ''photogentic'' it is though." Then nodding agreement, she too looks to Ember, "Yeah, what's got you out in the cold?" She probably is freezing, but aside from the periodic shivering against the wind, she doesn't show it much.

Ember squints when the camera is pointed at them like that. It isn't a hands up in the face sort of way but there is definitely a squint.

"I'm running an errand over in the RV park."

"I'm a fan of naming oneself though and owning it though. My name is Ember." and she glances to Rose at that point as if wanting a name of the intrepid photographer.

"I have been told artists suffer for their art.. now I guess I've seen it." not teasing really just, thoughtful.

The camera's lowered as soon as Ember reacts to it with that squint. "Mm. Rose O'Reilly. A pleasure to meet you both."

"It's a rather fetching smile, is what it is. And at this time of day, even. Not easy to preserve over the long term, though, kind of working in chalk. Do those cheeks run out of energy eventually?" The dark skinned woman grins back at Tara, reaching up to brush some of the fallen snowflakes out of her own hair. A hat probably would have been a good call.

"I frowned for so long, I think I've built up an endless store of smiles." Tara counters Rose with a little shrug, eyeing Ember, "Really? I'm staying over at the RV Park. I love it there, truly, but I wish some of the people laying down outside would stop talking all the time..." Even when she frowns it's not a ''frown frown'', more of a dispondent expression of limited angst or self conscious curiosity about a given subject. Such as is the case right then.

She doesn't bother rubbing away the snowflakes, though. In fact, she tilts her head back to collect one on the tip of her tongue with a big squinty eyed grin at the hazy sky above them. "It's pretty cold out." Incase neither of them was aware. "You both want to come back to my RV? I can fix us some cocoa and you can meet Oscar."

"I'm not a serial killer."

Because that's a normal assurance.

"That... that statement was so sacharrine I think I am going to go into diabetic shock. Though to be honest pot is legal in this state so I imagine a lot of people have an endless supply of smiles these days."

There is a pause.

"Who is laying outside talking all the time at this time of year.. and yeah it is pretty cold out." Ember shrugs.

"Sure I'll take a hot chocolate before running my errand, that guy can sit and wait."

Rose taps her camera a few more times in thought about the endless supply of smiles, but then replies with nothing more than a shrug of the shoulders. "On the ground? Seems like an unusual thing to be doing in this kind of weather. Unless you mean, yoga or some such?"

"Yes, that sounds fantastic, thank you. I'm starting to feel the chill creep into my bones." The woman's brown eyes flit towards Tara's, a smirk on one side of her lips. "Even if you were, you'd be the last person that I took a picture of. I'm sure someone would come calling your way pretty soon."

"Oh, they're already dead, I don't think they mind the cold." Tara zips her bag and then slings it around her other shoulder to settle it with a few hops between them, "I think it's colder wherever they are anyways, but they're really hard to make out. I tried to warm things up for them..." She shrugs, maybe a little dispondently, "I don't really think it helped though!"

The implications of her photo being the last one someone took is taken at face value, rather than the more precise point that she would be considered a suspect, "Oh, that's true! I'd be kind of flattered, though? To be the last picture someone took, I mean. I'd hate it if you died... but I'd still come talk to you."

She is very strange.

Also she leads the way. It's not very far at all to the RV park. "Watch your step going through here. I don't think I have to tell you that a cut on brabble could lead to some pretty nasty infection..."

Maybe it is the strangeness, or maybe it is a vibrating text message that makes Ember draw a burner smartphone. They read it quietly as they follow along. "Okay I definitely need to make that errand .. happen it seems... first."

There is a sigh and then a growl "When did it get so cold in winter around here.. fuck... thank you for the offer of hot chocolate strange ghost seeing girl.. I will need to take you up on it another time seriously." they raise a hand to wave once through the bit and into the RV park. "Work calls."

"You two photo lady."

"Oh." As if Tara's explanation about the people laying down in the snow being already dead explains it all. Or explains any of it, really. And then the bit about trying to warm things up? Maybe this one is a serial killer, after all.

Regardless, she follows the chalk artist on the way over to the RV park as specified. "Mmhmm. I'm used to traipsing through the woods." As Ember goes to make their departure, Rose offers a slight wave. "Have a good evening.. day.. whatever time it is."

"So, who is Oscar? Your significant other?"

The exact meaning by ''warm things up'' is almost blisteringly obvious upon entering the RV Park. There aren't a tone of people living here anyways, but one of those beat up older models absolutely has to be Tara's. The entire thing is painted in multi-colored abstract designs and with the right lightning practically ''shines''. "This is me." She explains to Rose, coming out of the woods near her RV with a little grin back over her shoulder.

"Oh cool. Yeah, I did a lot walking around in the woods lately than I ever have before... When I'd get short on money, I'd try to find streams or something to bathe in. It was a really great experience." Not really elaborating on what, precisely, the experience is she's talking about.

The door pulls open, but there's a barking from inside even before they're at the RV, "Yeesss yess I'm here, it's me, stop barking you big dummy." She sounds affectionate, grinning at Rose, "That's Oscar. He's my Golden Retriever. He's a big goofball.. I met him in Spokane and we've been road buddies ever since."

The exact meaning by ''warm things up'' is almost blisteringly obvious upon entering the RV Park. There aren't a tone of people living here anyways, but one of those beat up older models absolutely has to be Tara's. The entire thing is painted in multi-colored abstract designs and with the right lightning practically ''shines''. "This is me." She explains to Rose, coming out of the woods near her RV with a little grin back over her shoulder.

"Oh cool. Yeah, I did a lot walking around in the woods lately than I ever have before... When I'd get short on money, I'd try to find streams or something to bathe in. It was a really great experience." Not really elaborating on what, precisely, the experience is she's talking about.

The door pulls open, but there's a barking from inside even before they're at the RV, "Yeesss yess I'm here, it's me, stop barking you big dummy." She sounds affectionate, grinning at Rose, "That's Oscar. He's my Golden Retriever. He's a big goofball.. I met him in Spokane and we've been road buddies ever since."

"Oh, wow. You mind if I...?" And she doesn't bother to wait for a response before picking her camera up and snapping away. Only a few shots, though, moving to get a better shot of Tara as she approaches the trailer, then letting it rest once again against her body. "Very nice. I've never even.. really considered that someone could just paint their home in such a way. It's somewhat different when it's on wheels, I suppose, but still."

The barking corrects her prior assumption pretty quickly. "Oh! A dog. How silly of me." No hesitation from the woman on entering the trailer behind Tara - Rose is not afraid of dogs, evidently. She does tuck away her camera in her bag, though. "My parents and I had a Golden, they adopted him shortly after we moved to America. He was only around for a few years though, developed some awful joint problems. Such a shame. Beautiful, but terribly stupid dogs. In terms of intelligence and genetics, I suppose."

"Yeah, it was a big eyesore when I bought it, so I made it beautiful." Tara says with a glance over her RV with an affection that people don't usually have for such mundane things, "She's terribly chatty though." Said with a finger against her lips as if that's a secret. Then she's climbing inside and practically being bowled over by the big shaggy, kind of mutty looking, Golden Retriever! "OSCAR! Down, we have a guest, don't be a dick head.." Kind of kneeling down to help the big puppy back onto all four paws, "Uhh.. Okay so tour.."

Patting Oscars head who immediately goes over to inspect this new giant friend! ''Oh hello giant friend'', if dogs could talk! They can't right? "Okay.. this is the kitchen slash entertainment slash living room.. and that.." Pointing to the room in the back, "Is my bedroom slash studio.. I don't really do ''canvas'' art, though, so it's mostly just doodles and smaller paintings. The toilet is right there-" Pointing it out as she drops her bag of chalk down on the fold down table. There's surprisingly a lot of room, but most everything i moduler, so it can be moved out of the way to create more space.

"Hot chocolate! hot chocolate..." Repeating it, a little quieter, tucking hair behind her ear, "If I were the hot chocolae where would I b- Found it!" She sets up the water to boil while grabbing down the instant mix from a cabinet.

Noisy, rattly engine, of course. What other sort of chatty could Tara mean? "Older RV like this, not hugely surprising. As long as it gets you where you need to go. And you're here, aren't you?"

Rose grins as she spots the dog, and then as he comes over for a sniff or two, she takes a knee, extending her hands to embrace the surely filthy animal in a hug. "Oh, hello. Aren't you such a sweet little thing?" She makes sure to get in some good ear scritches, a bit on the top of the head and whatnot else that needs attention. "Alright, that's enough for now, Oscar." One more patpat on the top of the head, then she stands back up.

"This seems comfortable. There's just as much space in here as there is in the cabin that I just moved into. just my bedroom's up a flight of stairs." Rose peers around, but doesn't appear to be put off by the more modest surroundings.

Totally what she meant. Noisy, rattly engine... yup.

Tara grins over at Oscar being a big ol silly flirt and trying to lick Rose's face. "Careful, he'll charm you." She warns playfully, kneeling down to the tiny fridge to get out some milk and chocolate syrup because she doesn't screw around with her hot chocolate.

Oscar doesn't immediately give up, but when it's clear the human is really really done, he does a little yelpy half turn and bounds out the open door. "He'll be okay." The woman at the counter says to Rose, "He comes and goes as he wants anyways. I'm not a very good pet owner... but he's not a very good pet. Kind of pushy really. That's why I named him Oscar."

That likely explains nothing.

"Do you like milk? And would you like some crackers or marshmellows?"

As for the room, she glances around and nods with a little tiny grin. "It's home. I like it anyways, so much better than what I had before."

"He can try all he wants. Better men than him have tried and failed. Well, maybe not better.." She reaches down to give Oscar one more pet before he vamooses out the door. "He doesn't mind the cold, I suppose." Rose tilts her head slightly at the explanation of the name. "Sorry, what? I was thinking either Sesame Street, or possibly the award statue.."

"Just milk would be great, thank you very much." She gives one more look around to meet Tara's doing of the same, then smiles at the artist. "Have you been in town long? I've just moved here, but now I'm wondering if travelling the country in an RV wouldn't be better for my career."

"Aw, he's pretty great, but I don't think he'd charm you /like that/..." Tara muses, amusedly, grinning over her shoulder with a little teasing twinkle in her eye. She immediately goes back to pouring just enough warm water over the powdered mix to stir it into a fine sludge while heating the milk in a pot. Not to a bowl, mind, just warming it up.

"It's home, yeah.." Again looking around, turning to lean against the counter with a hand on it to either side of her hips. One leg up slightly with her toe pointed down at the carpetted floor. "No, not very. A couple days." One hand comes up to remove her hat and set it down ontop of the little fridge, then fuss her hair out of the bun so it hangs long and kind of curly around her face.

"Oh, Oscar? Hah, I never even thought of that! No, I named him after this dead dude I met in Wyoming. He was really nice, but kind of... I don't know just flirty. Oscar reminded me of him."

Rose breaks out into laughter, a faint Irish lilt coming through, betraying her usually flawless middle of America bland accent. "Oh, no, darling, I most definitely didn't mean like that. Gods, I can't even imagine.." with a soft shake of the head.

The photographer finds herself a seat, picking up a few things and setting them down elsewhere. "Hmm.. I guess Oscar the Grouch wouldn't make a whole lot of sense. The statue either." The settles into the seat a little bit, relishing in the relative warmth versus the cold outside air. But then she blinks, her brow furrowing as she looks back at Tara. "..what do you mean by 'meeting a dead man', exactly? What happened to him? You named the dog to honor him after he died, yes?"

"I didn't think so." Tara says with a big grin, turning around to the small stove to pour warm milk into one mug, then the other. One is held out to Rose, "Want some marshmellows or something? I have cookies too, I think.. just convenience store stuff, but they're pretty good if you dip them." She just back and forths from the abstract weird to being a good host flawlessly.

"No, I guess not.." Hmming softly, sipping from her mug held in both hands as she too finds a seat with relatively little clutter. She doesn't move anything out of her way though. "Oh, yes, he was dead when I named Oscar after him.. he was dead when I met him too. I /think/... he acted dead. He was sitting outside a coffee shop staring at a booth and kept mumbling something about ''one last cup of coffee''." She explains, sipping more hot chocolate with a refreshed sigh.

"So I bought him some, which he obviously couldn't drink, but I think he appreciated it. We talked for a few hours... mostly about things he missed, things he wished he'd done, things he actually /did/ do.. Then he went off to the side of the road, laid down, and disappeared."

Another shake of the head, though this time more towards a negative response rather than one of amusement. "No, thank you, just the cocoa is great." She lifts a hand to take the offered mug, gripping it by the handle, then pulling it back close, though not immediately taking a sip from it. It's probably pretty hot, even with the milk. It can serve as a small heater until it cools down enough to drink.

The next line, though, would serve to give her pause even if she hadn't already meant to do so to allow the cocoa to cool. "Oh." She blinks a few times, then puts on a polite smile. "..is that something that happens to you a lot? Meeting dead people?" Now she'll take a sip of the cocoa, still steaming or not, but then she continues. "I can tell that you've got the vibrations, but.. I've never heard that one in particular from anyone else before."

"Okay." Tara hadn't added any to her own either and is sitting with her elbows on the fold down table with the mug gripped in both hands up near her mouth. Smelling the sweet aroma of hot cocoa with a dreamy little smile and eyes rolled backwards in her head. "God, I love the smell of hot chocolate, don't you? I use to take it for granted.. most people tend to take things like that for granted, until they can't anymore. I think that's really sad." She frowns a little, lips quirking to the side at the thought that clearly kind of ticks at a trigger for her.

It passes quickly and she glances up at Rose.

"Mmmm?" Recognition dawns, "Oh! Well, I tend to meet a lot of people... I've done it since I was little... like twelve or thirteen, I think? My parents sent me to therapy because they thought I was crazy.. which I wasn't. Obviously." Is it that obvious though? "They said I ''make up imaginary friends to talk to'', which isn't true at all. Just sometimes you meet someone who isn't really there." She sips at her chocolate, "Or who has died." Sip. "Or is going to die.. I really hate that one."

Another sad frown.

"Yes, it's probably one of my favorite things. Sometimes I add a little cinnamon, a little cayenne pepper, kind of a lazy take on a Mexican hot cocoa. My favorite non-alcoholic drink is probably.. apple cider, if it's made fresh. Out of a packet just isn't the same. Not so much with hot cocoa, but it's seemingly more difficult to screw up." She shrugs at the latter part of that statement. "Everyone takes something for granted sooner or later. Familiarity breeds contempt. Sometimes it takes longer than with other things. People.. hot chocolate.. the piano, I suppose, with me. But then it becomes a question of if it's something that you've taken for granted, or you genuinely need a change in your life. Just in the same way, some people don't take things out of their life when they're not serving them well anymore."

"Interesting! I've heard of healing people, had a friend who had this.. weird trick of getting inside my head." Rose gives her lower lip a quick chew, but then shakes it off with a quick nod of the head. "Some of that sounds useful, but I can imagine it being quite traumatic."

"That sounds pretty damn good." Tara says with a quiet hum and a glance up at the cabinets, eyes narrowed slightly as if she has x-ray vision and can see to whatever's inside. "I don't think I have any cayenne pepper.." She murmurs, but shrugs and resumes sipping at her creamy hot chocolate. "The milk makes all the difference." She nods agreement to something hadn't said, looking down at the mug rather than across the table.

"Yup. I did that for twenty five years. It's just like people stop paying attention to the tiny things that use to matter so much and get focused on the bigger picture.. I certainly did, now I don't want to do that anymore." Grinning, glancing up with wide, always staring, eyes. Like they're permanently set to level ten intensity. "I spent an entire day of my trip cleaning up a parking lot with a 'chain gang' out in South Dakota. I got to know some of them too, the guards were nice enough to let me talk to them.. but I think they were mostly just looking at my ass."

She doesn't mind, shrugging indifferently.

"I think I can heal people." She confesses, blinking a few times, "But I don't really like to do that... not unless it's not their time to die. You go screwing around with the natural order of things and bad stuff can happen. A butterfly doesn't flap its wings without creating a tsunomi, ya know?" Exagerating, but chaos theory at its finest. "I like to help guide people into healing themself."

Rose nods! "The best kind is when you use actual Mexican chocolate, though, it'll have those things already in it instead of your more typical Hershey's with cinnamon and chiles added on top." She take another sip from the mug, then setting it back down on the table.

"People change too. Interests change. There's the old adage of people not really changing over time, which I've always thought of as nonsense. Being able to look at yourself from the outside can be useful. That was kind of why I got into photography at first. Turns out that you need actual introspection to figure out what's right for you." She sticks her thumbnail into her mouth, chewing on it for a moment before speaking again. "Do you mean to say a regular, prison sort of chain gang? Or more, a chain gang of the dead? I imagine that the more living sort if they were staring at you like that.." Rose grins, but then it fades as Tara elaborates on healing.

"Yes.. there's kind of a creeping dread, isn't there. Some of my most popular photos incurred something of a burden. I can't quite place my finger on it, but.. it almost feels like there's something out there, lurking, ready to extract a price for it all."

"Well, I'll keep that in mind for the next time you visit!" Tara says with exuberance, clearly thinking this is not a singular experience. Her mugs settles on the tabletop as well, both hands partially wrapped across the middle to further warm her palms, "I don't really like chile though.. or hot stuff. Which means I'm definitely going to try it."

Because people change, apparently.

The small woman shrugs, a long suffering rise of her shoulders, "I think there's truth to it, but it's.. patterns appeal to people. Routines make them comfortable. Have you ever just sat in a coffee shop for a few days? Obviously you get new people coming in to break things up, but I think the experience is kind of a secular example of humanity as a whole.. the same people generally order the exact same drink. Whether they enjoy it or not, they're just use to it, so they do." Her mug comes up for another drink, still appreciating with with a big grin. "I always got a half caf latte with almond milk, one sugar, very little foam... every day.. for seven years. Do you know how ''boring'' that is?"

"Now I get whatever the person infront of me got. No matter what it is.. even if I've never had it before." Definitive nod and a huge grin.

That faulters, but doesn't disappear. Rather than addressing it out loud, she speaks about the chain gang, "You know it's funny.. earlier you seemed completely hesitant to accept that I spoke to ghosts and now you're reasoning whether I was seeing ghosts by determining if they'd look at my ass.. I call that progress." Amused, but not mocking. "A real prison chain gang. Orange jumpsuits and a warden on horseback. Totally like you'd expect on tv."

"Oh, next time!" Rose hadn't exactly ruled the idea of another visit out, but she makes no sort of indication that she might be averse to the concept. "You're welcome to come over to my cabin, though I don't think I have any Mexican chocolate.. or I might, but I'm still unpacking and haven't happened across any just yet. I wonder if there's anywhere in town that sells it. I wasn't able find any at Safeway."

"Mm, I think coffee in particular's a little different. You get a surge of endorphins when the caffeine hits your system. Coffee, for most people, just seems to be a delivery method for caffeine, and all the rest is just flavoring on top to make it palatable. If you get the caffeine hit you're after, your brain's just going to tell you that it's great."

"Mm.. I wasn't sure at first quite what you meant, but I think I have an inkling now. I just needed a few minutes inside to warm back up and get my brain working again." A wide grin, eyebrows waggling up and down. "You know, that might just be even weirder. I'm a little bit shocked that the guards didn't chase you off with a shotgun."

"That would be cool." Tara agrees, tucking hair behind her ear as her head bobs at Rose, "I'll bring you a painting to decorate your cabin with, maybe." She says this with a grin and her mug coming up to finish off the content, "Do you smoke pot?" Sliding out of the little booth seat to wash out her mug, "I have a joint and I'm going to light it up unless you don't smoke.. It's okay if you don't." No pressure or anything, right? She turns the mug over in the plastic dry rack and goes towards the bedroom to root around in containers laying down against the walls. There's no bed, but it probably folds up like the rest of the furniture.

From where she's kneeling, she cants her head back to grin out at Rose through half screen of blonde hair, "I guess you're probably right. I sometimes just like to chew coffee beans, but I've been drinking coffee si- there it is." Popping up with a little hop, joint slipped up behind her ear as she makes her way back into the living room. "Where was I?"

OH RIGHT prison guards, "Oh, he wasn't really excited about letting me hang out at first, but I bought them all lunch.. Most of the time, cops are just dudes, ya know? And he seemed to know all of the prisoners by name. I kind of get the feeling that, I don't know, like they'd be friends if there wasn't that cop/criminal relationship. We had a pretty good chat." It also might have been Tara's rather polarizing personality, too.

She definitely has a way with people.

Rose grins at the offer. "I'd love that. No need, though." She takes a sip of her own from her mug, that little unintentional mirroring of the thing that someone else with out is doing. Brains are dumb that way. "Not regularly, no. I'm not averse to it, exactly, just not overly drawn to it. Comes hand in hand with a lot of artists and their outputs, but it's rare that I collaborate with someone else that isn't a client.." A soft shrug. "I don't mind, though, go ahead."

"So you live in an older RV, but you're buying random people that you don't know working on a chain gang lunch? I don't think that's the kind of decision that I'd make, but you're still here. And I doubt that the guards minded the free lunch too much, either."

"Nonsense, of course it's necessary. You don't go to someones house without bringing a gift." Tara points at the door, but not because she saying they both need to go out side so much as, she's going to lean out to smoke the joint. The small lumpy paper rolled joint sits between her lips, lighter striking for a few long puffs with her head tilting back. "I don't really usually either, but I'm trying to get some sleep tonight. I tend to end up painting all night or stumbling out into the woods.. or something.." Shrugging, blowing smoke out into the cold with a glance out to either side, checking up on the bark she heard a few yards away.

"Mm, yeah, I blew most of my travel budget early on and had to pick up some odd jobs. That's why it's taken me like four weeks to cross the country." Another puff, ashes flicked off with a lightly tapping pinky, and another stream of smoke blown out into the cold. "I figure if you have it, you should find ways to use that matter. Buying a bunch of shit you don't need is kind of wasteful. I have space, I have food.. I have a joint.." Holding it up, "I have food for Oscar and enough art supplies to do a few paintings."

She bounces her shoulders, grinning, "Life is pretty good." Another hit and she taps off the amber on the side of the trailer, saving the rest of the joint for later.

"Well, I didn't bring anything for you aside from conversation. I hope that's alright." She polishes off her hot chocolate, then heads over to set the mug along where Tara had set her own. "Thank you for the cocoa, though." Then following the woman over to the window as she begins to smoke. "I've been having some trouble sleeping lately, but getting to sleep in a new place has always been difficult. Maybe I should try picking up the habit again since it's legal here and all."

She says this, and then lets loose a long yawn. "Seems reasonable enough. As long as you don't have to turn Oscar into food, you'll probably be doing alright." And then another yawn. "I suppose I should probably take the hint and head back to bed for a few hours. Oh, let's exchange phone numbers.."

Rose offers her number, and takes Tara's back in turn. "I think that's it for me, then. Have a good evening, Tara. See you around town." Tugging her camera bag back over her shoulder, she heads out back into the cold night with a brief wave and a smile.