#vice rp

“Hey.” The first attempt to get the attention of the driver is hushed but still audible. “Hey, hey... hey, man,” she starts. Every further utterance gets more frantic and more voluminous. The drawbridge lights were flashing out red and yellow warnings to stop. Yet, the car seemed to be accelerate. “Don’t you see it?! The bridge is going up.” Tubbs bristles in her seat. Her fingertips curl, clawing into the upholstry as if it might protect her. 

Her unwavering gaze fixes upon the other. Her chin is tipped upwards with an authoritative grace. “Where is the money you promised?” She prompts. The question was scripted but delivered with such an authenticity that Tubbs felt almost assured she’d be gifted heaps of green. Or at least, that was her most desperate of hopes. “Don’t toy with me, man.” She growls. It is a pretense to be perturbed at the amount of time he was taking to comply with what the other should see as a demand. Her hand slides forward expectantly.