F.U.C.K this outfit.

Daileh was most definitely a city person. She knew just when to fake a smile and she knew when nobody was looking. Chances are, unless you were getting personal with someone you didn't have to fake a damn thing. It was a city. A huge city at that. Nobody noticed you. You could be the biggest fucking celebrity around and you could walk around naked without anyone noticing you. Everyone around had their own heads shoved too far up their asses to care. Everyone was on their cellphone. Everyone had somewhere to go. Everyone was too important for their own good. She found it funny.

Everyone of them was lost in their own delusion, all trying to forget about the murders. Still, Daileh sat at the edge of the fountain, watching the crowds swarm and buzz around, cell phones going off every which way. None of them had any idea that they were being watched. Sure, she didn't bother with those that were there for no longer than the blink of an eye, but anyone that dared to hang around her fountain was fair game. Like the fat man checking his watch and looking towards the corner. Obviously he was waiting for his mistress (how he managed to get one was beyond her). There was the so called homeless person a few feet away, begging and groveling with his sign and miraculously well fed dog. His shirt was too clean, his face was too clean shaven, and his dog was too fat. Just another amateur scam artist. They weren't all that interesting. However, there was someone within her sites that was.

Mr. Tweak-o over there was a sight to behold. All grungy and messed up and fidgeting like a ferret on speed. If she felt like moving from her seat she'd probably go fuck with the bastard a bit. You know, offer him a lay (neglecting to tell him that she was only seventeen), or maybe just send the mimes to rough him up a little. Why not? He was a wreck. He looked weak. Which meant that, for her, he looked fun. All pliable and weak willed, perfect for her to play with. Smirking, she pressed her knuckles to her cheek, leaning over some. "People make me sick," she murmured, fiddling with the cellphone to get to the camera setting. She already had a picture of the psuedo-hobo and the sad fat man that was cheating on his wife, so why the fuck not?

Snapping the picture before snapping the camera-phone shut, Daileh pocketed it quickly. If you were going to be a creeper and take random pictures of random people, you'd better not let them see. Especially considering that Mr. Tweak-o looked like he thought he was a hard-ass or something. You know, getting all up in her grill and shit. Yellin' and ting. She didn't want to deal with that. Blinking, she looked next to her, tilting her head at the woman sitting about three feet away from her. There was a reason there was a ten foot clearance on either side of her. And this was it: "Move it," she murmured, dark eyes narrowing dangerously. Smirking, she watched the woman walk away, leaning her head to catch a better glimpse.