Alone at her table, hunched over a cup of coffee and a single muffin, Maria looks about as pitiable as a living mountain can. She wears a bright sun-dress, quite at odds with the downcast expression on her lowered face, long black hair tied back out of the way. She looks up as Tara calls her name, and a rush of guilt and terror passes through you; it's your fault she's in this mood, and you're barely the size of a mini m&m!
Maria looks up, brow raised in confusion. “May I sit?” Tara asks. “Richard sent me.”
“Oh,” Maria responds. “Is this his way of letting me down gently?”
Rather than introduce you straight away, Tara coils her fingers around you more as she sits, allowing the other woman to speak on.
“It's always this way, you know? Dudes always check out the online profile, start a conversation, seem so caring and understanding. Then BAM!”
Maria slams her palm against the table to emphasise her point, a terrifying display of power that makes you flinch, holding tight to Tara's finger for support.
“I tell them I've got a kid, and they don't want to know. Ghost me so fast. I'll admit though, Richard sending you to tell me to my face is a new one.” Maria clasps her hands together, settles her shoulders and gazes above you, where you imagine is directly into Tara's eyes.
“So. Go ahead. Tell me what words Richard thinks will make this rejection any less crushing than the others. Speak to me on behalf of the man too SMALL to come here in person.”
That is a dangerous tone, and at only a third of an inch tall you're utterly powerless before this woman. You do have the speakers on your suit so she could hear your words, but do you want to speak up here, or let Tara cover for you?
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