tine, not teen. grown-up, not teen.
As she'd gotten older, she'd gotten (admittedly) grumpy. Rose had left Kent & Inza, who she affectionately called Grandpa & Gran, a long letter, thanking them for raising her for the past seven years...but she needed to GET OUT OF THAT TOWER. She'd stepped out of the Tower of Fate a couple of times within those seven years, but most of her teenage years were spent cooped up with Gran & Amazo, cycling through the same few things: homework, magic homework, practicing boxing, chores, reading, talking to her plants (no, they weren't magical at all because everyone was afraid she'd turn into Poison Ivy apparently), hanging out with her family, sleeping, repeat. Occasionally, Zatanna or someone who needed help would visit (usually she was forced to hide if it was the second). Rarely, John would appear. Rose checked on him using her locket, but not often, just in case he was busy negotiating in Hell or something that required a shit ton of focus.
She was wearing an outfit she'd conjured out of nothing. Most of her clothes were things she'd literally willed into existence, since Grandpa wasn't great at buying her kind of clothes & Zatanna was usually busy. Rose wore cargo pants & a long-sleeved crop top with white fishnet fingerless gloves, plus some Doc Martens. Her locket stayed mostly hidden, worn underneath her shirt, & her hair was tied back with a scarf.
Rose headed for the Obsidian Bar first, wanting to get some food & the latest gossip in the supernatural world.
@occasionaldarkartsdabbler
