[u]May[/u]

If May had more in the way of ferocity than she did felicity, then Baron's leg brushing against her may have been eerily reminiscent of waking a grizzly from its hibernation. Luckily for Baron, May was pretty damned far from a grizzly-although she may have been fit, in another life, as a teddy bear. Where Baron glanced into the car-if he were to focus on the up-close reflection of the window and not the further-in plush leather and sleek design, he'd see a face. Perhaps disturbingly, not his own. A girl's-hard to place exactly how old, but it would be a fair guess to say she was old enough to buy cigarettes but not alcohol. Her features were round and smooth, a born-with-it grace adorning her features with more ease than any plastic surgeon or makeup artist could ever craft. Fading streaks of blonde clawed their way up from the wavy tips of her hair, the dye wearing thinner as it reached her roots. Been a while since she'd seen a hairstylist, perhaps. Smokey eyes were blurred and runny-presumably, from tears-and there was a brief look of desperate, I don't want to believe in case it doesn't work out hope on her features. Nervous teeth chewed into the bottom lips as her brown eyes watched Baron's with eager hesitance.

But that was the beautiful thing about May. Baron might not even notice it. He could lift up his leg, walk off, and never again cross paths with the supernatural Thunderbird that lie before him.

Of course, that was assuming May had nothing to say about it. Baron had perhaps run across a telepath in the past-being a psychologist with an interest in metahumans, it wouldn't be far-fetched. But had he ever heard of the term, he'd surely be able to figure out what was occurring-a voice, crystal clear appearing right in his head, sounding from everywhere and nowhere. The vague, almost-electric sensation of touching the car, of being dangerously close to a live wire-or, perhaps, just a human soul. The car, when touched, seemed to be alive, a force of nature or wild beast rather than cold steel sitting unoccupied on a Friday night in Mendel. The curves seemed natural and organic, the lazy glint of light off the well-polished wax job mirroring that of a light dancing off someone's eyes. 

And all the while, May would not shut the hell up. Her voice was a strange mix of throaty and high-pitched: one got the impression she was perhaps a singer, or at least had vocal training of some sort, although she clearly wasn't employing it for the purposes of everyday conversation. The periodic hiccup of someone who's just finished crying interrupted her soliloquy, which raised the question of how the hell a car hiccuped, or needed to hiccup. Mind over matter, as they say. She chattered out words like a machinegun, some frenzied stream-of-consciousness conversation that probably would've continued just as fluidly had Baron not been there.

[i]HEY! Oh my God thank you Jesus finally somebody. Please please please pretty please don't let go. Like don't move away from the car. Just keep touching it okay? Please? It's been so long I don't think I can-oh I sound clingy I shouldn't do that. Um. Hi. Please don't let go. I'm May. I'm the car. Well I'm not the car I'm like more than the car but currently I'm in the car. No not in the car like I'm not inside of it but like I'm possessing the car? No possessing sounds scary. I'm not like a demon or something. I'm a person. Who's in a car. Who is a car. I don't really know. Look please don't let go okay um I'm sorry if I'm freaking you out or something but I promise this is all on the level okay? I just haven't had anybody to talk to in a while and I'm just...uh...listen um listen I can make it worth your while, okay? Like do you need a ride somewhere? I can drive for you in case it hurts your leg-oh sorry I just saw you had the brace on and I like wasn't prying or anything i just thought maybe you might like that? Not that like you need help or anything just in case I thought I'd offer. Um. We can take your friend to? Also I'll like cover gas and stuff and drop you off wherever you need to go I really don't mind like it'd be cool we could go hang out for a while or just you know ride somewhere i don't...um...the car's, like, really nice? I don't want to sound like I'm grandstanding cause I mean it is my car and all but like it's totally vintage and I've just kept it in good shape and all? It's like really super killer-diller you know and maybe uh if you wanted to ride around in it I could just take you wherever. Oh I already said that didn't I? I'm sorry. I'm just nervous. Really nervous. I....um, please don't...please don't let go.[/i] The Thunderbird, at this time, let out a sharp huff from the exhaust pipe as if it was entirely out of breath and trying to catch its wind back. [i] Oh I haven't even introduced myself yet have I? I'm so silly. My name's May. Sorry if I'm talking too much. I talk too much when I get nervous sometimes. Not that you're making me nervous you're totally cool I just I dunno I get nervous sometimes you know I don't have like any problems or anything so don't think I'm crazy. I just. Uh. Oh no I'm scaring you off aren't I? I'm sorry. I should just go.[/i]