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Jessie-ica Diaz · (10-07-2013)

Greetings. Do you remember me, faithful viewer? Well, it's certainly been a while, hasn't it? Our last session ended rather, abruptly. The last time; hmm, what did happen the last time we met? Oh, right. You were revealed to be none other than Steve Sayors. Don't worry; we wouldn't dare condemn you to that fate once again. Considering of course, the situation he's gotten himself into.

And now, with that out of the way...

Let our scene...

Fade in.

From blackness, into the light your eyes squint, trying to control the amount that enters as to not hurt yourself. The setting manifests itself as the interior of a diner that looks like it stepped out of the 1950's. Looking down at the pale, yellowish-brown tabletop that's bolted to the floor of the restaurant, you lean backwards until your back hits the padded, vinyl covered back of the booth. Your heads lifts itself upwards, slowly, before finally stopping and leaving you looking straight ahead. The eyes that were previously squinting, now look into mine, and attempt to pull away before being stopped by the mere power of...

Suggestion.

Ah yes, suggestion. The most powerful of all the weapons I have at my disposal. If I were to even whistle; you'd come running over like the little puppy dog you are, hiding behind that "intimidating" exterior of yours. I kid of course, someone would have to be a fool to find you intimidating. A pink aproned waitress stops at our table, filling two coffee mugs with the familiar black liquid. Before leaving, she places a small, white glass container in between us. On instinct; you reach out and wrap your fingers around the handle, picking it up and pouring some of its contents into the coffee. Finding a spoon next to the mug, you stir the mixture, before taking a sip to check the temperature.

I reach out to you, grabbing your arm in an attempt to stop you from drinking the concoction.

Too late. The piping hot liquid scorches your tongue and falls down your throat, scalding the tissue on the inside of your mouth all the way down your esophagus. Right up until...

You clutch at your own throat, trying to force words out. All that escapes however, are jumbled hints of English, reaffirming your current state. I swear to you, that by sitting here, opposite you in this booth, watching you choke...

That I am doing all I can.

"Waitress?" I call over to our server.

"Yes?" She replies, turning over to look at you before reverting her attention back to me.

"Check please."

She nods, walking over to the register and leaving me alone with you once more. Still, you clutch, claw, and gargle in vain. Staring daggers across from you, I pick up my own mug and take a cautious sip. Ah~, refreshing. Setting it back down on the table, I can't help but smile at the look on your face as it begins to turn a shade of blue that I can't quite put my finger on.

Azure?

Blizzard?

Capri?

Nevermind, It really isn't all that important.

What does matter, is the fact that your grip on consciousness fades second by second. All the while, I just sit, watch, and sip my coffee. Ah, here comes the waitress now, the bill in her hand and a smile on her face. Laying it down on the table, she slides it over to me. Picking it up and looking at it; I see the total charge is...

$4.33

Pulling out a leather skinned wallet, and taking a five dollar bill from its slit, I hand it to the waitress. A tip of the hat is her farewell as I stand up and exit the booth, and turn to walk out of the building.

Leaving behind a half finished cup of coffee, a nearly full cup of poison, and you.

Whatever am I going to do with you?

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Filling the Glass Vicariously Full, and Setting it on the Edge, Waiting for Fate
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