Activity

(( Oh. My. So excited when I saw this! Now to see if I can keep up. ))

Name: Rylie. AKA Ry. Will answer to anything if food is involved.

Age: Young-ish. Probably 18-20, though maturity and physical age do not always walk hand in hand.

Looks: Long hair, messy, usually tied back; a little shorter than average (although you would do well not to mention it); clothing is functional but nothing impressive.

Personality: Optimistic; a tad snarky; cares more than would admit. May kick you when you’re down but will be second in line to help you back up. Usually practical but at random times her artistic side will show itself.

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Rylie jumped as a clap of thunder startled her. She ducked inside the nearest door, glad she didn’t have to stay outdoors in weather like this. She took in her surroundings, realizing she had entered a pub. Unfazed by the new experience, Riley wandered to the counter and took a seat on a barstood.

“I’ll take something strong,” she ordered. “Preferably coffee.”

Oblivious to the strange look she was given, Riley spun around on the stool and scanned the faces of the clientele, some of which she knew by sight but none of whom she knew by name.