Le Utilisée

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

OoC: For Nickolai BiC:

Olive Degarmo

It started slowly today, radiating from the middle of her chest out as her body lay limply in bed, asleep, heavy. Behind her eyelids, she looked down into the open cavity where a heart beat softly, the pain increasing with each lub and dub. She had to breathe. She had to breathe or she would die. And she took in one gust of air to fill her lungs, which quivered with pain. As agony rushed through her body, she opened her mouth to scream, but issued nothing but a weak gurgle.

Her shoulders ached from where the pins peeled away her skin, holding her chest open as the lights overhead blinded her eyes, but she could not blink. She peered into the white hot sun above her and a distant voice spoke in a language she couldn’t understand.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a large needle jut in and out of her skin, suturing the place where her ribcage was just visible.

Olive’s eyes flew open and her dry mouth gasped in pain as she reached for her pain killers. It was five in the morning and she would need a substitute in three hours. Shaking, her fingers wrapped around the last pill she had, which she forced down waterless. She could taste it as it wedged its way down her throat and it burned as she gagged. The brown prescription bottle fell to the wooden floor with a hollow clang, bouncing freely until it hit the wall.

Clutching her chest and breathing cautiously, she rolled out of bed and texted Abel that she needed him at their set place in ten minutes because it could take weeks, or even a month before she got another prescription.

She sped downtown, holding her chest the whole while should she hit a bump in the road.

And there was Abel. Against the wall of the pawn shop, exactly where he always was when she needed him. He was like a scary, temporary best friend, there when she needed him and capable of keeping her darkest secret.

“You’re a sight for a sore chest,” she said, sliding money into his hand.

But instead of handing her the medicine, he gripped her hand hard. “And your chest is a sight for sore eyes.”

Olive’s eyes grew big with surprise. “Able. Let go of me!” she said, trying to pull free.

“Give me what I want and I’ll give you what you need. It’s simple, Olive.” He pushed against the wall and her heart threatened to leap out of her chest and her lungs threatened to cave in. His fingers were hot against her palm as he slid into his pocket so she could drop off the money.

She wanted to scream, but her lungs failed her again. “Able,” she gasped out. “Stop it! Now!” but her words were just angry whimpers, echoes of an anguished cry as tears burned down her cheek. Able ran his scorching tongue down her neck and his sweaty hand up her thigh. “Help!” She managed to eek out before Able covered her mouth .

[blueeyeddevil]

Nikolai Tarasova

It had been a long day. A fight had broken out in the bar over some prostitute who frequented there. Several glasses as well as a table and two chairs had been destroyed before Nikolai had the chance to break up the fight and kick the guys out. Of course, then his boss had reamed him for allowing the fight to get started in the first. Apparently it was part of his job to make sure the customers didn't get too rowdy and if it happened again then his paycheck was going to start getting docked to pay for damage. It had taken ever ounce of self control in him for Nikolai not to throttle the old man then and there. But he was determined to keep this job and assaulting you boss wasn't the way to do that.

It was a little past five in the morning and he'd finally counted all the money and closed up. He was on his way home to get some rest before his next shift started. The hazy blue of the early morning hours just barely lit the street which were all but bare at this time of day. A handful of homeless people slept curled up on the benches along the street and a couple of drunk stumbled their way through town. Nikolai had to actually step over one passed out on the sidewalk. It was just a typical morning in this part of town.

Nikolai was passing just by the pawn shop when he heard it. It was faint, but caught his attention. “Able! Stop it! Now!” came the whimpering female voice. “Help!”

That last word alone caused his head to snap in that direction. Nikolai wasn't a heroic guy by any means, but he wasn't just going to pass on by either. But he when he rounded the corner to see a woman obviously struggling against the very large man groping at her, he found himself completely furious. Nikolai could be accused of many things, but rape was definitely not one of them and he couldn't stand men who seemed to feel it was their divine right to take a woman if she wanted it or not.

Coming forward, Nikolai ripped the man away from her, whirling him around to deck him in the jaw. Not giving the man any time to respond, he grabbed the man by the throat, slamming him against the opposite wall, a switchblade now out and hovering dangerously close to the man's face. Almost reflexively, Nikolai's hand closed around the man's throat, cutting off his air for a moment before loosening again.

"What the hell were you doing," he snarled at the man, allowing his early anger at his boss to unleash itself now.

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Olive Degarmo

Any chance Olive had of catching her breath was whisked away as Able slid his slick tongue down her throat. His alcohol and nicotine tainted breath burned and made her eyes water as he supplied with second hand air and each time he came up for air, he taunted and teased her by taking what she couldn’t.

She balled up her fists, and wrenched her pinned down arms free of his grip as she began pounding away at his chest. With each beat, she felt the strength trickle from her body, even as the adrenaline pumped through her. And at last, with one last pound on his chest, Able flew off of her and to the ground. For a minute, Olive smiled at her own strength, taking in a glorious, victorious breath. But when she turned to leave, there Able was, against the wall, pinned beneath another man whose face was close enough to touch his. Olive was frozen, too sore to move and too shell-shocked to leave.

"What the hell were you doing?" The man bellowed at Able, who laughed.

”Picking flowers. What does it look like?” was Able’s response as he spit at the man. “Get out of my business and out of my face.”

Able made a move to break free and Olive flinched out of her intrigued trance. Her eyes looked around rapidly as she searched for an exit. Instead, she found her precious little meds just a few feet from Able. Still wheezing, she crawled to them, her fingers brushing the tiny plastic bag determinedly. She had to get out of here and she had to get her relief or she would die slowly in this filthy alleyway.