Black Flies on the Windowsill (Elyse) [Trigger]

[Noa Reese]

[Trigger warning: references to sexual assault and battery]
(dating this before moving in with Jade & Vera)

Noa wasn't happy. Sure, the past couple of hours she'd been acting like it. The past few years she'd been acting like it, on and off. But tonight had been tough. She'd come from a club where she'd "known" a few people. She'd gone around and introduced herself to others, all bubbly and that shit. But every time the conversation lulled, it was her job to bring it back. And every time she did, she could almost feel the pricks of their barbs sinking into her as she forced the friendliness out of them. They all thought she was insane, surely. They all thought of her as "that nice girl who's kinda crazy."

Ugh. She had been smiling and smiling and everyone had seemed so nice, but she'd heard them lie again and again about getting together again, or running into each other at another club or party... she was sick of it tonight. She was sick of acting like she wasn't alone when she was. So instead of heading home to be so utterly and truly alone, she felt the biting bitterness at the back of her throat that told her to be someone else. Just for a few hours. Even if that someone else was herself.

She pulled off the side of the road, into a diner she'd often passed but been too wary of to actually enter. But hey, it was 3am, and it was a 24 hour diner. Besides, fuck it, who cared if she did go missing tonight? None of her "friends" at the club. So she pulled on her leather bomber jacket, covering up the giant cutout in the back of her dress, and wrestled some leggings on in the driver's seat of her car, switching her heels for nice heavy boots before trudging into the grimy diner. What was it called? She glanced out the door to their sign - the Hogsbreath. Glorious. She walked up to the counter, face grim, and sat in one of the raised stools, kicking her feet against the wall.

[Elyse Blackburn]

The burning fluorescent threads of light tacked onto the dry wall provided a morbid colour scheme to the gloomy night. A generator hummed a melancholic tune as a reporter on a wall mounted television rattled on about some financial crisis. The only crisis at that moment was the sorry state of the diner, still open even in the early hours of the morning. The lingering scent of cooking oil and detergent hung in the air like a stubborn fog, never quite escaping out of the barely opened windows. Traffic was rare in these parts, let alone civil diners who held some semblance of respect even in the outskirts of Pilot Ridge. The Hogsbreath diner was a haven for any motley grizzled individual looking for a cheap meal and some stale warmth away from the gushing winds outside.

It was here, in this dank diner with lights that sputtered and an oven that occasionally broke, that Elyse Blackburn worked. She had taken the night shift, preferring the smell of grease and coffee to the sweat and cologne that engulfed her other unfortunate job. The young woman was the only waitress working in the early hours of the morning, her only company being Juan the chef, but he was little on conversation and not a very happy fellow.

Waiting for customers was a chore in itself, Elyse had resolved to reorganising the pepper and salt shakers, polishing the glassware as best as she could and munching on the leftovers from a diner who couldn't finish their triple bacon and pumpkin pie. This was a normal night at Hogsbreath, wasting away under the creaking ceiling fan and keeping an eye out for any worrisome customer. It wasn't uncommon to have drunks, druggies or the occasional street walker to come in and run amok, often ordering little and demanding a lot. But they weren't the worst customers. On the rare occasion the diner would be visited by a specific brand of customer familiar with her other line of work. It was then that Elyse got nervous, knowing exactly what demands and requests said clientele would ask of her.

Luckily enough there was no such customers that night and it wasn't until halfway through nodding off did she hear the jingle of the door bell and the heavy clomping of boots.

A girl had entered, a very pretty one at that. By the looks of her she had been out that night, visiting the clubs and doing what any excitable girl does nowadays. Slinking around the counter from where she was dozing off Elyse quietly approached the lone female, attempting to feign a grin even during the ungodly hour. "Hey there...", she spoke in a rathe this her tone, shuffling in her place before placing the menu on the table. "Late night huh? You know we do serve 24 hour breakfast if you want something nice and hearty", Elyse smiled, her voice cheery but hollow. So far everything she had said was a rehearsed line, nothing to retain conversation with a late night customer.

It was clear that the girl wasn't in the best mood, usually when walls were being kicked it meant there was some form of tension. It also meant Elyse was going to have to scrub the shoe marks off later. Clearing her throat she continued, "Would you like some coffee? You look like you need one..." It was true, years of hospitality taught Elyse when to discern what customers needed what fix. Coffee always seemed to be a good option.

[Noa Reese]

Noa's smile was twisted as the girl approached her, unable to keep a sincere one, just managing a slight quirk to one corner of her mouth, coming off as a pretty cynical attempt. She rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands, following with a sweep underneath each with her thumbs to wipe off any makeup she'd smeared. Something about the waitresses words seemed off - there was a humming from Noa's head, and she wasn't entirely sure what that meant at the moment. The words had seemed true enough.

She nodded at the mention of 24 hour breakfast - that was why she was here, after all, wasn't it? - but faltered as the girl suggested coffee. "...It's probably not the best idea - I mean, I should probably get some sleep at some point tonight," her tone was wry, obviously doubting she'd get any, as she propped her chin on her hand, "But I know I'd appreciate something warm. ...Shitty shitty night." Her voice was lower, more muttering to herself than the waitress, but she didn't really care.

She was sick of all this bullshit. She just wanted to punch people at the moment. Maybe punching some meat or something would be better for her.

[Elyse Blackburn]

Elyse stood in her place, fiddling with the menu as she waited for the girl to make up her mind. It was a standard for post-clubbing customers to either be very hyped up or morose and less-than-enthusiastic. The beautiful redhead seemed to fit the latter category, but it was pleasant to see that she wasn't moping around with LSD in her system, that stuff made customers a bit crazier than usual.

"Oh fair enough, I'll be sure to sprinkle in some extras", Elyse smiled, shrugging her shoulders lightly before glancing backs at the girl. It was always a mystery why people came to Hogsbreath when emotionally broken, who knows maybe this girl had broken up with someone or lost some money at poker down the road. It wasn't Elyse's business, there was no point to really asking since it would probably just disturb the only diner.

Shuffling back to the counter and glancing into the aperture she was met with the sight of Juan flicking through a Spanish newspaper, his brow furrowed and his belly bulging out underneath the stained shirt. "Uhh...Juan, one order for the sizzling breakfast. Extra pancakes and lots of maple syrup", she asked, her voice strained from the lack of sleep and the rather unsightly view of his abdomen. The chef eventually grunted and waddled off his seat to turn on whatever appliance was necessary, giving the young woman a blank gaze.

Slinking away from his view, Elyse carefully placed the menu on top of a neat little pile on the corner of her counter before slowly turning back towards the lonesome girl. "Shitty nights aren't that much fun", she muttered, pursing her lips before quickly turning away, not even knowing why she said that. Flattening the creases in her apron, Elyse brought out a clean mug and drainer, coupled with a recently brewed pot of tea. It was aromatic, not something the coffee addict would drink but still pleasant. It was also very warm.

Pouring the girl a cup of whatever flavoured tea it was Elyse let out a low sigh, fighting back the need to yawn. "So...uhh, hopefully you like tea instead", she simpered, carefully pushing the cup and saucer towards the girl.

[Noa Reese]

Noa managed an exhausted but grateful smile as she mentioned something about extras. She watched as the girl walked away, and glanced around the grimy diner. What was a girl like that doing here? She was the only other female in the building, Noa was sure, and yet she stayed... There must be a story to this, but Noa couldn't tell if she wanted to hear it. Would it be worth it, if it just brought her lower? Part of her sadistically realized that hearing how bad others' lives are tends to make a person feel better about their own, and she wanted to punch that part of herself in the face. People were so self-serving and awful. Then again, how could someone assure their happiness if they didn't look out for their own interests?

Noa was lost in this thought as the waitress returned. Her eyes had hollowed a bit as she stared intently at her entwined fingers, but they slowly moved up at the sound of the waitress' voice.

"Shitty nights aren't that much fun."

By the time Noa had raised her eyes, the girl was already busy getting something... ah, tea. Noa had never been a huge fan of tea - finding that it always smelled great, but once you tasted it it was just sour water. Kind of like people. But just the aroma would be enough for her right now, and something to hold on to. "Thanks." She took the mug with a weak, somewhat bitter smile, and bit her tongue, unsure if she would engage this girl in conversation.

But what else could she do? Sit here in this filthy place and wallow in self pity and loathing? No, she should distract herself, somehow. "People are awful, you know?" Well, that hadn't been what she'd planned on saying, but it was out there now, hanging in the air. She considered her statement for a second, wondering if she should take it back, then shrugged. "Yeah, people are awful. How do you deal with it?"

[Elyse Blackburn]

The rattling of cooking utensils in the background provided a cacophony of 'clangs' and chimes, Juan tended to get a bit excitable when cooking. The portly chef was in his own world, completely dismissive of his young waitress and the girl keeping her company. The breakfast would take a little less than five minutes, that is, if the stove doesn't stuff up.

It had been a while since Hogsbreath was met with what seemed to be an articulate and sober customer, let alone a young lady all by herself. Due to the circumstances Elyse's gaze would occasionally flicker out the windows, checking to see any suspicious activity in the area. Her paranoia was enough to warrant some caution, especially this late at night.

People are awful, you know?

The statement pounced up out of nowhere and sunk deep into Elyse's conscious. Scalding memories and lingering terror enveloped her mind, to the point that she actually cringed from thinking just how awful people really were. She tried to resist it but her mind was forced back into that burning room, the figure of a fiery man haunting her every step and the suffocating stench of burnt flesh. Elyse could remember his voice, those ugly words he spat into her face hoping to break her mind just as easily as he had to her body.

"Yeah, they are." She whispered, clenching her jaw as the renewed trauma forced the scars on her arm to burn with an excruciating pain. It was all in her mind but it felt fresh, it looked fresh. The ugly misshapen skin on her hand was a constant reminder of just how horrible people were, how low they could stoop given the right circumstances.

"I ignore it." The young woman uttered in a strained voice, looking away from the girl and clearing her throat. It was too late for a conversation like this, but it wasn't in her heart to silence the clearly distressed girl. "You have to learn that you're on your own I guess. People will never be the saints they pretend to be", she whispered, practically speaking to herself whilst glaring at the mutilated scars on her arm.

People were monsters.

[Noa Reese]

Noa noticed the waitress glance out the windows, and a heaviness seeped into her bones. She'd probably made a mistake coming here.... but she didn't want to leave now. Somehow this place felt more grounded than the rest of her life. She was living this false dream of happiness and friendship and 'magical powers' and this place brought that train of falsity to a screeching halt. In truth, she was probably overcompensating for the positives in her life with overwhelming negatives, but that's not how she saw it at the moment.

Had the waitress... did she just flinch?

"Yeah, they are. I ignore it."

Noa watched her angrily turn away, and followed her gaze to the scars creeping over her arm. How had she missed those before?

"You have to learn that you're on your own I guess. People will never be the saints they pretend to be."

Noa's throat suddenly felt painfully sore - one of those signs that hopelessness was on the brink - but she was distracted by the eerily clear, ringing tone sounding in her head, like a low reverberating gong. There was truth in her statement - at least to her. And that small piece of Noa that fought for idealism despite her cynicism cried out in pain. Part of her wanted to say no, that people could be good, that they could be sincere and helpful and merciful, but she just couldn't bring herself to believe that fact at the moment.

"You truly believe that, don't you?" She asked, after a second, part of her suddenly feeling broken. The pain in her chest was worsening, like the most painful heartburn she had ever experienced, that feeling that she would never be anything. That life was shit and then you die. And this pain was the rest of her trying to deny it. "Not just about the people who pretend to be saints - god knows they always let you down-" that addition was muttered, bitterly, "-but about everyone." Her eyes narrowed on the girl, tuning herself in to her powers, trying to determine what this girl really believed.

[Elyse Blackburn]

The conversation had taken a swiftly grim turn, weighing heavily on the exhausted waitress' mind mad she attempted to retain her pleasant poker face. The last thing she wanted was to get in too deep with this clearly agitated customer, emotions were the last thing she wanted to deal with at this time of night. The girl shot back at her statement, of course she did. Who else would be able to ignore such a morbidly depressing view on things. Glancing at the girl Elyse let out a whispery sigh, chewing on her lower lip till she could taste the first specks of blood. What could she say?

Ding ~ Ding

A bell chime sent a jolt through Elyse's skin, knocking her back into reality as the smell of pancakes filled her senses. Breakfast was ready. Giving the girl a weak smile the young woman swivelled on her heels and plucked the dish awaiting her customer, giving Juan a brief nod before setting back to this peculiar teenager. "There you go...extra everything", she simpered, her fingers tightly clutched at the edges of her apron in an attempt to keep her hands from falling asleep.

Pursing her lips Elyse's gaze wavered, she was just a waitress and this spontaneous therapy session was quite a jarring experience. "I do." She uttered, pained at her own admission and biting her tongue from revealing too much that may force her to get emotional. "Well I try to find the good...", Elyse whispered, a half truth which was masked in her own prejudice and fear. There was no point relying on others too much, not only did they have their own problems to deal with but they could hurt back as hard as a freight train. Fellowship with others brought strife, or so that's what the troubled waitress thought then.

"I don't know...it's stupid." She halfheartedly tossed afterwards, shooting her weak gaze to the flashing television, it was advertising some cream to help with erections. It didn't work, she had clients who used it. "Are you enjoying the meal?", she mumbled, giving the girl a genuine smile to avoid any further decent into the currently depressing topic area. It was painfully intimate for the scarred young woman, and deep in her heart she knew she couldn't influence this customer into a spiral of depression.

[Noa Reese]

Noa watched intently as the girl chewed her lips, Noa's eyes slightly narrowed, concentrating. She felt the snap of the silence being broken as the cook dinged the bell, and she looked away from the waitress, realizing she was probably prying a little too far into this girl's personal business. You didn't usually get into deep conversations on humanity with your average diner waitress.

"There you go...extra everything."

As Noa unwrapped the paper napkin to take out her utensils, she wasn't expecting much more from the waitress in the way of conversation, and put a bite of pancake in her mouth. It was decent - not bad, though nothing spectacular. The syrup was overwhelming, but Noa welcomed it's sweetness. She was somewhat surprised that she even got an answer to her question as the waitress offered her a weak platitude.

"Well I try to find the good... ...I don't know...it's stupid."

Hearing the doubt in the girl's voice, Noa realized this wasn't what she'd intended. Noa didn't mean to dredge up painful emotions on the part of this innocent bystander, she should stop now before she alienated this girl any further.

"Are you enjoying the meal?"

Noa ignored the waitress' question - just another meaningless question from a stranger, part of the script this girl read every day - and shook her head, putting down her fork. "It's not stupid. Well... probably not." She hurriedly reminded herself to let up on the interrogation, and added, wearily, "I'm sorry - you don't have to talk to me, I'm sure you have things you'd rather be doing." She dragged a hand over her face again before cupping the tea, looking down into it and inhaling deeply. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

[Elyse Blackburn]

It was a truly peculiar moment the young waitress had found herself in, someone was actually attempting conversation with her and it did not follow the usual script of how fantastic the weather was or how work was going. It seemed the beautiful had taken full advantage of the vulnerability of night that she was letting the rather painful conversation continue.

Swallowing lightly the young woman ran her hand through the honey kissed brunette hair, offering her customer an attempted smile before running a cloth across the bench. "No...it's fine. Don't worry about me", she simpered, folding the cloth and placing it far behind the counter behind her.

The girl's honesty was somewhat jarring to listen to, an eyebrow raising turn of conversation that left the young woman in a void of silence. What could she say to this clearly troubled girl? Shaking her head lightly and clearing her throat of the sleep that tugged at her voice she glanced at the girl, only briefly but long enough to offer some quiet comfort.

"I honestly don't have anything else to do...It's three o'clock in the morning...", she murmured, pursing her lips at the thought of what she would be doing at this exact time in her other job. The thought made her shudder and she sniffed lightly, enjoying the scent of the tea. "I think maybe you're just tired...you don't live far from here do you? I can always call a cab...if you need one of course", Elyse blurted out, shooting her gaze at the empty night kissed roads surrounding them.

[Noa Reese]

Noa listened to the waitress' reassurances, returning to her food. The silence was palpable between them, and Noa wasn't sure how she felt about that. It was almost promising, as though it would be broken by some revelation, but it was also tense, weighted by each of their heavy moods. As the waitress cleared her throat, Noa dropped the prospect of a revelation. She wasn't interested in getting in too deep with someone she just met, and Noa understood that. She just couldn't help it - she overshared.

"I honestly don't have anything else to do...It's three o'clock in the morning..."

She made a good point. But Noa still felt as though that wasn't fully the truth - something in the tone ringing in her ear, like it was sharp or flat or something that set it oh so slightly off. Like maybe there was something she could be doing, but didn't have to? The wording of things often frustrated Noa when it came to truth-telling. If it hadn't been so quiet, and Noa hadn't been thinking about this so much, the words would've slipped by as truth.

"I think maybe you're just tired...you don't live far from here do you? I can always call a cab...if you need one of course."

Noa let out a rough chuckle, her lips twisting into a wry smile. "I'm not drunk." She refrained from rolling her eyes - of course that's what this girl assumed, that she'd come from a club because she was drunk and hungry and that was the extent of her personal life, as far as this girl was concerned. "I don't drink much. My car is in the lot, I'll be fine getting home." She waved off the waitress' offer, though she had to remind herself that it was a pretty kind offer to have made. It didn't seem like something this girl would do for just anyone, and she should probably appreciate the thought. It would be nice of her to return the favor with a small heads-up. "I can stop the small talk, if you want. Don't feel obligated to chat just 'cause I'm paying you."

[Elyse Blackburn]

A deep breath rolled off the edge of Elyse's chapped lips, curling into a little wisp of mist just above her mouth. The sickly sweet smell of syrup and tea intermingled at the base of her nose, too stubborn to dissipate any time soon. It was under the blanket of drowsiness that the young woman's senses became increasingly alert, an annoying habit which only died down when she was certain she was safe. Her ears rung with the girl's voice, the rush of tired words creeping into her attention.

She wasn't drunk. Dammit, that's why jumping to conclusions was such an idiotic thing to do.

A nervous laugh escaped her lips, the embarassed tinge of a blush trawling across her cheeks at the girl's admittance to being sober. "Oh...sorry about that", she mumbled, pursing her lips and furrowing her brow. Hopefully the girl's car was still in the lot, there had been a gradual increase in theft as of late and Elyse secretly worried said mode of transport would have been snatched. There was a moment of silence, the brief stint of understandable paranoia stumbling to a halt when the peculiar customer began to speak again.

"I can stop the small talk, if you want. Don't feel obligated to chat just 'cause I'm paying you."

Well that was thoughtful, maybe the girl thought she had scared the tentative waitress, but such a thing was minor and Elyse have it little thought. "No...it's uhh, it's nice actually. Having someone to speak to that is...", Elyse stammered, letting the words tumblr out like woodblocks on cement. It was true though, this redheads beauty was the first person Elyse had spoken to that day, every other conversation was just the standard diner talk.

"There's no nee - "

Ding~a~Ling

The door to the diner was swung open, halting the girl's sentence halfway as growling wind was brough inside. A lone man, dressed in a crinkled shirt and pants too short for his stubby legs waddled into the stale warmth of Hogsbreath, the stench of liqueur following him. Elyse felt the standard welcome choke up in the bottom of her throat, no words slipped out but a strained whimper. Her glassy eyes widened at the sight of the stumbling oaf, bumps instantly trawling atop the supple olive skin. She knew this man. Everything about him; those beady eyes, sunburnt nose and the puffy lips were enough to recover the nights of painful revelry shared together. He was an agent of her failures, of the sick sad life she lead behind closed doors.

But he had not noticed her, yet.

"G'mornin waitress-s, I'd like som'thin ta drink-k", he sputtered out, his prickly throat vibrating with the slurred words and attempt at standard formalities.

Elyse would have done something, offer the man a seat and run back to Juan to warn him about the potential trouble, but she didn't. She was frozen in place, her arms locked at her side and her jaw clenched shut like a vice. Every lustful utterance he leaked into her ears were all returning, every lingering touch, every painful bite, pinch or slap playing over in the forefront of her memory.

Why now? Why had this stumbling come here?

"I...I uhh...y-yes okay...I'll check for water...", she replied with a strained whimper, swallowing hard on the bile growing in the back of her throat. Glancing back at the girl, Elyse blinked twice and took in a deep breath. She wasn't going to have this fool ruin the one pleasant conversation she had had that day, that entire week. But her trembling hands were more than enough to deter any attempt of frivolous bravery. She was trapped here, with a token of her shame as drunk as he had been the night he paid her. There was nothing she could do...

[Noa Reese]

The waitress' light, nervous laugh was a surprise to Noa, and it made her smile a bit. At the slight look of concern, Noa glanced over her shoulder out the window. Yup, still there. Her car was safe for now, which was a relief. Maybe she hadn't realized exactly how dangerous this neighborhood was. Why was this girl working here?

"No...it's uhh, it's nice actually. Having someone to speak to that is..."

As she hesitated, Noa considered asking that question, but then the girl continued.

"...There's no nee - "

Noa's eyes lost their tired fog, brought to attention at the same time as the waitress was by the tinkle of the bell and the heavy, booze-scented wind that rolled in. She turned her head and stiffened at the sight of this drunk. It would be best to just ignore him, not wanting to interfere with whatever drama was playing out in this man's head, for fear of becoming part of it. As she turned away from him, back to the waitress, ready to settle a bit (though still on edge in case the drunk should cause any trouble), she noticed the girl's frozen look, full of fear. As much as Noa wanted to marvel over her gorgeous eyes (how had she not noticed those before? they were stunning), she was focused on the expression in them.

She glanced back and forth, shifting so she wouldn't have to turn her head, and tried to determine what exactly was going on. As she heard the small whimper escape the waitress' lips, her hackles went up. Anyone who could cause that reaction was bad news. But why on earth this man? He couldn't be an ex-boyfriend, this girl was definitely out of his league, maybe it was some family drama? But there wasn't that usual cautious glint, the small touch of expectancy when you know a person well enough to know what might happen. This girl was anxious, and scared. Screw it, it didn't matter what the relationship between these two was, he was obviously dangerous to this girl, and Noa didn't like it one bit. But she didn't know what she could do to help. She needed to help.

"G'mornin waitress-s, I'd like som'thin ta drink-k."

The stench of alcohol on him was potent, and Noa's eyes narrowed sharply, her lips pursing, a silent growl echoing in her head, even though she remained quiet. The waitress didn't move. Noa was tempted to give her hand a reassuring squeeze, or something but she could tell the girl didn't want attention drawn to her. The man's words didn't sound like he was addressing someone familiar. Perhaps they didn't know each other? Or perhaps he just hadn't recognized the waitress.

"I...I uhh...y-yes okay...I'll check for water..."

The whimper in her voice made Noa's heart ache. She felt for this girl, Whatever the problem might be, she was in pain, and her pain was echoed in Noa's own chest. A slight line of concern creased Noa's brow, tempered by the suspicion and anger she held toward this drunk. But what could she do?

....Fuck it. She'd come in here hopeless, and found someone who was still fighting. The least she could do was help her fight. Besides, she knew a thing or two about defending herself if need be, and her mind was already forming a fragmented idea.

Slowly, slightly cautiously, she slipped off of her stool to face the man, angling herself into his line of vision in the hopes of drawing his attention away from the poor girl. She let her eyes leave the waitress, a slight, pained smile forcing it's way onto her lips, fixing her eyes on the drunk, even as she spoke to the girl. "You do that, I'll join you in a moment." Hopefully his drunkenness would keep him from realizing she wore no uniform and had no authority here.

The plan in her head was clear, but doing it was making her skin crawl. Still, she hadn't taken years of acting for nothing. All she had to do was keep his attention long enough for the girl to get out of sight, and then she could take the girl's place... or something to that effect. She was just hoping that whatever violence this man had done had been to only the waitress, and by getting her out of sight he wouldn't turn on Noa.

[Elyse Blackburn]

There was no denying the overwhelming shame and grief of having a sickening fragment of Elyse's past waltz right back into her life. This smelly, uncouth and staggering individual was just one of many men who took pleasure in the tiresome hours she offered, sating their lust on her broken and fragile body. The bruises he gave her lasted two weeks, she remembered explaining the unsightly marks to her boss...no man would want to touch a battered girl, especially one which sometimes cried during the subsequent 'parties'.

Elyse had only started working in her night job five months ago, but five months felt like five years and every night spent with another stranger seemed to burn a deeper hole into her soul. Was she dirty? Yes. That's what she thought anyways and at that moment, with this ghastly fellow stumbling around in her diner she could not hold back the memories of his repeat visits to her.

With shaky hands and sharp short breaths the girl took a careful step back, glancing at the other girl with eyes full of trepidation. What was she doing? There was no way Elyse was going to allow another innocent party get involved in this sickly mess, and she would have stopped her...unfortunately she didn't have the will to nor the voice.

"Ahh...aren't youuuuuu a p-pretty thing!", the man announced, raising his hands in the air as if triumphing over the girl's unquestionable good looks. Elyse had no idea what the girl was doing but knew it well to disappear before he caught sight of her.

Slinking behind the counter the young woman his behind the fridge, taking in several deep breaths to calm herself down. Juan had disappeared into the bathroom, a midnight habit of his that usually lasted a while. A whole slew of thoughts washed over Elyse's mind. Why did she leave the girl alone with that man? A pang of guilt hit the waitress and she slumped downwards, gripping her knees in an attempt to stabilise herself.

"What h-happened to...that other girl-l?", the garbled voice rose, clearly confused at the waitress' absence. She cringed at the sound of his voice, tentatively raising herself near the sink to prepare a glass of water. The other girl seemed to have settled the tension for a brief moment, whatever she was doing it was strangely working. With shaky hands she brought the glass underneath the tap, spilling some of the contents in her dazed rush. What was she doing? He was a customer! Elyse's mind stubbornly fought against her shame but it was a futile battle. She was already wallowing in disgust at herself and a shamefaced embarrassment of having accepted the drunkards money on the nights he took her and bruised her.

With careful steps and eyes firmly placed on the glass in her hands Elyse tip toed back into the diner, her head masked by the hair masking her face. Don't let him notice you, don't let him notice you, her mind repeated with every step forward. It was only until she placed the drink on the bench did she feel the air around her get swamped in the feral stench of cheap liqueur and body odour.

"Thanks missss...", the man gurgled, seemingly enraptured with the fact that he now had two young ladies in the same room as him. He had demanded a threesome the second time he visited her. Shuddering at the thought Elyse inched backwards, her eyes still firmly set on the stained floor. "W-wait...don't you *hick* have a-any beer?", he sputtered, taking a lumbering step forward like an elephant that had just been tranquilised.

"Umm...n-no sir...", she whispered in a hushed tone, feeling his beady eyes set onto her body. Don't come any closer, don't come any closer, her mind panicked, thrumming into her mind like an electric pulse.

"W-what? No beer?", he gasped, actually shocked at the statement. He took another step forward, the smell stinging Elyse's eyes. "That's jussst fuckin rubbishhh...eh? W-wait, look at me...you, s-stop staring at the ground-d", the man ordered, his voice becoming louder with every word. It was enough to hold her in place, freeze her body like a statue as she felt him eye her body up like a piece of meat.

"I...I know you...y-you're that whore. Yes! You're t-that little slut w-with the tight cunt-t..!", he exclaimed, leaning in further till she could feel his moist breath against her skull. Her glassy eyes widened at his observation, her throat swelling up with bile as her knees began to rock with uncertainty. He had found her, he had found his favourite plaything. What gave her away? The birthmark on her neck? The burnt hand? Her skinny body? She had to defend herself, she could not be labelled a slut...especially here in front of the girl.

"I...I n-no...that's not me...", she stammered weakly, taking a fumbling step back till she knocked over a few containers. She was terrified. She had to play innocent. But it was so hard when he was right. She was a whore. A fact she could never avoid.

[Noa Reese]

"Ahh...aren't youuuuuu a p-pretty thing!"

Ugh. Noa managed a tight smile, relieved to see the girl getting out of sight. This man was... ew. Just ew. She raised an eyebrow slightly at his motions. She would have found it funny, if she didn't have such disdain for this unsavory character.

"What h-happened to...that other girl-l?"

Something in the back of Noa's mind was screaming at her that this was a bad bad bad idea, that she should've never come here in the first place, that she was in over her head, but another part reminded her solemnly how much she wished someone had said something to- A chill ran down her spine at that thought, threatening to paralyze her, to take her back to that state of unthinking. Ok, she couldn't acknowledge her past right now, she needed to react.

"She's just gone to get water - I should go join-" She faltered as the girl returned. What? Why? Noa was trying to help her, trying to give her a chance to hide, to stay out of sight as Noa took care of this nuisance (how she'd planned on doing that, she didn't really know, not that it mattered now). She was so tempted to step in between them, to cut the waitress off, but it was too late.

For a moment, she thought that it didn't matter, that the man hadn't even recognized the waitress. She was about to let out a shallow breath of relief when-

"I...I know you...y-you're that whore. Yes! You're t-that little slut w-with the tight cunt-t..!"

Noa's eyes flashed, angrily, not caring that her mind recognized his statement as his truth, it only meant that he honestly thought of her that way, which at this point didn't matter considering how much Noa already hated this man. Her hands clenched into fists. Not only was this man sexually abusive, but he was just plain indecent - no, that word wasn't strong enough for scum like him. Who did that?! Who walked into someone's workplace - drunk, no less - and started calling them a whore?!

Her anger was making her shake, and her hands trembled with the desire to claw this man to bits, her lips raising in an unconscious growl, though it was barely audible.

"I...I n-no...that's not me..."

Noa heard the high tone of a lie a louder than she heard truth, and she grimaced even more. It wasn't because the girl had practically admitted to being a whore - Noa didn't care, she was actually a pretty staunch supporter of legalizing sex work in order to regulate the business and look out for the men and women who were being treated badly. It was because the waitress believed she was all of those things that Noa's face darkened. And from the way she fumbled and stammered, she didn't accept it in the same way that Noa had claimed the title. Beyond that, it was the thought process.

When someone called Noa a whore, it was because she let them. She let them talk to her in a demeaning fashion because it turned her on. But the crux of it turning her on was that even the threats were non-threatening. She gave them permission to assault her, within her limits, and she could stop them when they went too far. In her mind, none of those words truly applied to her. But this girl... this poor girl thought of herself in this man's terms. And that made her even more angry.

But what could she do? Drunks may be uncoordinated, but they also have a higher tolerance for pain and a lower level of consideration for others (one of the reasons Noa frowned on any sort of dynamic play where there were substances involved - consent under the influence is not consent). If she attacked this man - as she truly truly wanted to - she could face a number of charges, not to mention retaliation, but the girl obviously wasn't about to fight back for herself.

Noa reminded herself what she'd promised to do if anyone crossed her boundaries. She wasn't afraid to do it. She slipped one shaking hand into her pocket, grabbing a hold of her cellphone and flipping it open -yep, she still had a flip phone, and it was at times like this that she didn't mind, it was a lot faster than unlocking a touch screen - as she pressed 9-1-1. Her finger hovered over the 'send' button, phone by her side as she spoke. She forced herself not to scream at him as her voice came, in a harsh semblance of politeness, "Excuse me, I think you need to take a few steps back."