Delta marked the time at around 4am, an idea that she instantly rejected. In her mind it was still Saturday night and it would continue to be Saturday night until she rolled the fuck out of bed. That her bed was in her apartment which was somewhere over thataway and she wasn’t had nothing whatsoever to do with a damn thing. Fuck working nights on weekends. Although, laughing at the smudges some of the drunk drivers made on the tar? That was kinda fun. Earned her nowhere near as many looks of disbelief as she actually deserved, but there was really only so much a girl could do without telling said smudge to stand up and seeing how much of it actually tried to comply. However, there was a limited period of time this necromancer could go with no incidents of... pulling the strings of the deceased. Weekends were usually when Delta got to blow off steam. Sure, they were busy as all hell because for some reason people seemed to view their time off as a reason to get their asses injured? But. She still usually got a chance to make one dead guy, say, walk around the ambulance before collapsing back on the stretcher so she could strap him up and ship him off to the Big Freezer she liked to think of as her own personal playground.
Tonight? Noooo such luck. Zero. Nada. Nothing. Not even a-- Okay, so there was the one squirrel that had stopped her from going absolutely insane and killing her partner just for the fix, but that was it. The only thing that had been stopping her from hurtling over the line of ‘ow, my head’ into ‘give me a motherfucking dead horse before I cut a bitch’ was that she had all frequencies open, listening out for roaming fangers. Apparently those fuckers were on holiday tonight too. Who knew? By the time her shift was up the whole world knew something was wrong because the shades were staying on her face even if she would never been able to see to ride the freaking chopper home in them and she had pushed the envelope past being a bitch from hell and just wanted to find a ditch to die in. She figured that later she would see she amusement in how those two facts correlated. If she survived. Maybe she’d strike lucky and find a ditch with something dead in it. Like a... bear. Now? She was just going to--Actually no, the hell? Woods plus dark equalled scary places which obviously meant, somehow, there’d be vampires in there, and she could hear their thoughts so much easier with the engine off.
Pulling over slowly, Delta killed the engine and tugged off her helmet. The shiny, new helmet that was not full of zombie-goo. Could she hear anything? Could she hell. There was, however, a weirdly dressed chick over there. The necromancer’s eyes were as black as the tyres on her goddamn chopper but she wasn’t blind. Yet. The searing pain would come sooner or later. And that? That. Was a dead deer. She was potentially about to ruin someone’s nightly stroll and she really didn’t give a fuck.
But.
But.
While she was looking at this chick, habitually finding her shades, only to settle them on top of her head instead of her nose, there was something weird going on there even by her standards. Perhaps especially by her standards. “You. Over there.” She deliberately pitched it so her voice carried rather than bothering to call over properly. Because if she was willing to do that then she may as well just walk over and, uh, no. She could hardly make herself swing her leg over the chopper. Wasn’t like the deer was going anywhere unless she made it. “Babe. The hell are you wearing?” What, did she just, like, fall out of a costume drama?