Is that....Thorn? Out in public alone? Somewhere that isn't a grocery store, running, or the law firm?

Thorn was rather confident that she could walk the street and not feel vunerable without Gattling around. That confidence was kicked down two notches when she walking into the coffee shop and found it nearly packed with the people crazy enough to get out of bed before six o clock just to get to the coffee shop before work.

She got in line, ordered her coffee, and when it came, she fled the cool indoors to stand alone on the sidewalk.

This was a bad idea. This was a really bad idea.

But no, she had a gun, she was a big girl. She didn't need to hid behind Gunn for the rest of her life, right? She had to make herself cope. She'd taken a cab, which had made her a little more then nervous, and left a note for Gunn saying that she'd taken a cab to get coffee and go to work early, take the truck, pick her up from work whenever. Love you.

Thorn leaned against the wall, put her head back, and let out a long sigh. She was wearing a three-quater length skirt and a button down shirt that was just slightly big around her stomach. She'd started buying a little bit bigger clothing when she'd started to 'show'. It's been three months since she'd been caught in the street and raped by a rather nasty young boy and he'd gotten her pregnant. He's who the gun is for. It's in her purse. Not the easiest access to it but she'd had nowhere else to put it. Her long black hair is left down and hangs to her waist.

Thorn closed her gray eyes and frowned when her fingertips tingled around the cup. Magic, but she didn't know that, was nearby. Somewhere. It might have helped if she knew it was her own magic, but she doens't know about that either. Poor ignorant girl. Poor frightened, ignorant girl.

(hope you don't mind if I come play)

Mmmm magic. Misha can feel it, but she's very sensative to it. She moves slowly along the sidewalk with her cane, like the broken thing she is. Magical folks aren't always nice to encounter. According to Misha though, most people aren't nice to encounter. She passes the woman who strongly radiates magic, but makes no secret about warily keeping her distance. Shifty eyes look around everywhere including over her shoulder at Thorn as she goes into the coffee shop.

Not surprisingly she is just as deliberately distant when she emerges a few minutes later with coffee of her own. She won't stay in that frigid arconditioned shop either. It's murder on her arthritis. She makes her way a few yards down the side walk to slump dejectedly onto a nearby bench. It truly is amazing that someone so melted, and hopeless seeming can remain so alert. Misha does though, magic helps her keep alert.

Thorn glimpsed the lady with the cane but didn't watch her as she went inside the coffee shop. She had no reason to stare, so she wasn't going to make someone uncomfortable by doing so. She and Gattling got stared at all the time in the begining, with his bad leg and her bruises.

The woman came out again and her fingers tingled still. She rubbed one set of fingers togather at her side, trying to get it to stop. She didn't let her gaze linger too long on the woman, nor did she speak to her but went out of her way to specificly not look at the woman in the same way the woman had diliberatly stayed far from her.

Talking to a stranger who looked more innocent then most is what had gotten her here in the first place.

Misha really is as innocent as she looks, sharp tongued, tempermental, but completely innocent really in most ways. Misha doesn't hurt people, people hurt Misha.

Her hands shake while she sits with her coffee, she sloshes a lot of it in the process of drinking it. A man sits next to her there to wait for the bus it would seem. He's looking at a bus schedule. He says something and Misha gets up in a slow stalk after whatever he'd said to her. She spills the rest of the coffee onherself in the process and scowls darkly. She passes Thorn again to throw away the empty coffee cup in the trashcan by the door.

Thorn frowns as the woman shakes and splashes coffee. She suddenly feels a tingle of guilt at being paranoid, but then, an innocent boy had attacked her and reminding herself of that, she tried to ignore the woman. But then the woman stood and spilled all of the coffee down herself and Thorn couldn't help but throw an accusatory scowl in the direction of the man.

Her fingers tingled, and now her hands.

The woman passed her again and she took the napkins she was holding and held them out to her. "Here, use these." That must have been hot. "Are you alright?"

"F-ff-fine, not hot, n-n-n-n....." she paused stuck on the N. "Nerve damage." She explained after collecting herself. The man's words had made her angry, her voice shook and quavered nearly as much as the rest of her. Still she did take the napkins and blot at the coffee all over her. What had she been thinking going out at all today. She should have stayed inside watching the world through the slats in her blinds. If someone wasn't messing up her life, she was messing up theirs, interrupting them, stammering at them, getting in the way or just making a mess in general.

"Thank you." she almost whispered with downcast eyes. Coffee still shows on her wrinkled clothes, a ratty grey sweatshirt and faded old jeans.

Nerve damage? What did that mean? She couldn't feel it? How awful! Not that she couldn't feel the burning coffee, just that she couldn't feel at all in general. Now she felt bad for having been suspicious and paraniod of the woman. Thorn nodded to the thanks, noted the napkins hadn't done much.

"Here, let me go get more." And she went back into the crowded coffee shop holding her breath. She returned with two handfuls of napkins.

She can feel things, just not like other people do, she can feel pain, just not temperature extremes on her skin. She'll feel the actual burned later if there are any. She nodded nervously as the woman went back into the shop. People helping her makes her nervous. They often have a motive. It wasn't like Misha could run away though. She stood there waiting to see what she'd gotten herself into and using small ammounts of magic to dry herself a bit more.

The tingling in her fingertips reached upward into her palms and she shook one hand in simple frustration and holding the napkins out to the little woman, completely oblivious that the little woman seemed just a little dryer then when she'd gone into the shop.

People make Thorn nervous now. Not because they have motives but because they have potential. She used to be afraid of big men in allies in the dark. Now everyone has the potential to rape anywhere they want. Even out of the street, even a boy.

She stepped back a little and put her cup down against the wall on the ground.

Misha's broken litltle mind may not work right but she isn't a rapist, a monster, some nightmare waiting to happen. She's a victim waiting to happen. It seems to just be what she is.


"I should go. Now. I don't mean to be keeping you from anything important." she stammers. Obviously Thorn musthave somethig important to do, look at how she's dressed. IT's bad to distract those with important business, they change when the realize they're about to be late. "I'm sorry, it was my fault. I'm just stupid and clumsy. You've done more than enough." eyes remain downcast.

She pulled her hands back at the light dismissal. "Your not clumsy, that man...." Let things lay Thorn. Just leave them alone before you get yourself in trouble. She just nodded after a moment and picked her coffee back up. A victim waiting to happen, poor woman. Thorn hadn't even been that weak and she'd been attacked, how many times would this woman have to suffer. She managed a sweet smile for the woman.

Misha is a victim waiting to happen alright, she's just assertive enough in the thick of things to get away and repeat the process of being a victim. Sometimes she's downright explosive.

She smiled awkwardly back but still scarcely made ye contact. She carries herself with all the poise of a badly whipped dog. "Thank you....." her voice trails off though she isn't sure what else to say.

"Your welcome," she replied awkwardly. She backed away from the other woman to lean back against the wall where she had been. She only remained for a moment before opening her purse, carful not to let anyone glimpse the gun within, and dug for her keys. Easily located, she moved towards her truck.

Misha moved wearily down the sidewalk after that. Closely skirting the buildings as she tapped along with her cane. Much too much excitement. She made her way home as quickly as possible with every intention of locking herself in there again, away from the outside world.