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[Rosette spent quite a bit of their silent retreat fretting over how to cut that selfsame silence. She didn't exactly want to talk about it, but talking about nothing at all seemed even more horrible. They'd had more than enough times of simple, companionable silence... this one was filled with what that guy had said.]

Are you okay?

[He actually jumps a bit when she speaks, having been simultaneously dreading it and not expecting it at all.

He realizes that's a bit contradictory and mentally chastises himself.]

... It was just some rope. Nothing to be concerned over.

[She looks away, down at the road. Her stride takes on a bit more of an angry stomp.]

Hmmph! Still! Who does he even think he is?

Edited 2013-09-04 04:06 (UTC)

Well... [With very measured, deliberate blandness.] An angel, apparently.

[Her gaze snaps over to Chrono, to make sure it wasn't a joke in some level of poor taste.

.... it wasn't.]

But he's...

Really? An angel?

And he knows?

Really an angel? HIM?

HOW AM I GOING TO EXPLAIN KICKING AN ANGEL IN THE FACE TO SISTER KATE?

[For once, oddly, there doesn't seem to be much disapproval of her kick first and ask questions later philosophy, which probably says more than anything else does.]

Maybe with "he deserved it."

[Strangely enough, rather than the expected THAT NEVER WORKS or demands that he put that in his own handwriting, she falls silent as they walk again.]

[... Somehow, that's far more concerning than the earlier silence was; surely there are at least half a dozen things she could be blustering about. He slows somewhat, brow furrowed.]

Are you alright?

Eh?

I'm fine... I was just thinking that maybe I should play along with it. Within reason.

[For anyone else, it wouldn't be too difficult to discern the motives. But since it's Chrono, there's nothing but a blank lack of comprehension (and maybe a tiny bit of offense—that he would deny—at the thought.)]

With what? Being... [a handwave that is perhaps meant to convey some meaning, but doesn't really] angelic?

Why bother?

[She stops, folding her arms.]

All that idiot is fixated on is some weird idea about how good of a person I am or some nonsense like that. If he thinks he is helping he'll leave you alone, probably. [Or she'll shoot him. Would her bullets even work? ]

Edited 2013-09-04 17:05 (UTC)

[He waves a hand dismissively.]

What do you expect? He's going to make stupid assumptions and be suspicious no matter what. [Stupid self-righteous angels.]

[And then, a mistaken assumption.]

—And don't let him bully you into thinking you're going to hell, or whatever.

[It is something of an established phenomena that Rosette Christopher has a particularly low threshold for feelings experienced at the same time. With the new additions of exasperation and frustration there's really nothing left for her to do but grab his face and pull on it.]

Like I care about that!

Think for a bit! He probably sweats holy water! Farts communion wafers! He's a walking danger to you!

Edited 2013-09-04 17:28 (UTC)

Ow, ow— who cares! I carry a giant box of holy weapons on my back every day, in case you forgot!

[Yet another thought he would deny: some mild irritation at the implication that he couldn't take the guy.]

Now let me go!

[What was that? ROSETTE I DONT FEEL COMPLETE UNTIL I'M IN A HEADLOCK BEING NOOGIED MERCILESSLY?]

I DO! ME! And I put newspapers on the bottom of the box!