Starring:
Summary: Angel loses control of her abilities and ruins Eleanor's dinner in more ways than one.
Date It Happened: March 13, 2007
Log Title Seesaws And Sandwiches
Location Noodle Heaven
Early evening finds Noodle Heaven's crowds thinning as people finish their after-work sandwiches and head for home. The atmosphere is a tired one as both customers and employees wind down from the rush. Now that there's a break in customers at the register, Oliver Pasternack takes some time to organize things and tidy up the counter. He's exhausted his I Am A Happy Employee Let Me Serve You smile and currently looks a bit … brooding. Eliana has been missing several days. No calls to her apartment or cell have been answered, and he's become extremely worried. Alas. The sandwich jockey is dressed in his usual workman's fare and is the only man at the counter as his fellows take a well-deserved break.
Eleanor has a similar brooding demeanor as she steps forward to the counter, only to be cut in line by a particularly large business woman on her cell phone. Petite and certainly easily out-done, Eleanor sidesteps out of the woman's way. Her eyes narrow into thin slits before she averts them, folding her arms loosely across her chest as she waits. She knows their pain, dressed in her classic black stretch-pants and dress-shirt, her Friday's name tag gleaming proudly on her heart. Bastards.
Perhaps it's because Eleanor bears the symbol of a fellow work-slave. Perhaps it's because Oliver just doesn't like the pushy business types and their pushy business cell phones. Perhaps it's because he's cranky. Perhaps it's all of these things. Whatever it is, the sandwich-maker offers the businesswoman a strained if not sardonic smile and says with saccharine sweetness: "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I believe she— " an nod is given toward Eleanor "— was next in line. If you'd kindly step back?" Oliver will not tolerate such rudeness.
Eleanor holds up a hand, eyes flicking down and up the woman in a judgmental fashion, "Oh, no - it's fine. You can go." Her voice is breathy and innocent despite her visible hostility. The woman steps back anyway, commenting dryly about the situation to her phone-friend as she moves behind Eleanor in the line. Unfortunately, the next person has already stepped up so she has to go even further back… "Okay, then…" Eleanor mumbles sweetly, frowning as she moves up towards the counter, "Crap, now I forget what I was going to order." Blonde.
That gets a broad grin from Oliver, who seems more pleased with Eleanor's forgetfulness than upset. Hahaha, the businesswoman will have to wait /longer/. That's sticking it to 'em. "Oh, don't worry, take your time," he assures laughingly. "You've probably heard it a thousand times before, but the cheese steak on baguette is pretty good. Though personally? I like the Little Taste of Italia. Cheese steak’s overrated." Yup, the more he talks, the more he doesn't have to deal with the woman and her phone.
Eleanor laughs, arching her eyebrows up into her bangs as she peaks over her shoulder towards the woman behind her. She makes brief eye contact before turning back. Oliver's smile seems to infect her slightly, "I agree. Overrated." Her hands move to either hip, "How much is that one?" Leaning back, the tiny blonde peers at the over-head menu, "I guess I could try that…" Yes, she's caught on to the game. She's already off work, so she's certainly in no rush.
"$5.66 without tax," Oliver responds chipperly. "You want to try something a little closer to home, though, the club sandwich is great, and there's a special on it today so you get it 25% off." He also casts a brief glance back at the woman and her cell phone, his grin growing slightly impish. This is fun! He's enjoy himself. But the customer directly behind Eleanor also makes him not want to carry on this little game for /too/ long.
Angel Walks into what is turning out to be her favorite place to come and eat after a hard day at work. She's still got her lab coat on and her badge with University of New York Pass Research division. She gets into the line and sighs cracking her neck and yawning.
Lips pursing thoughtfully, her nose turning to the side in an overly-done cutsey manner. "The club sandwich, then." "Please." Blushing slightly as she hears an audible sigh from behind her, the young lady leans down into her purse to fish around for her wallet. "Are you serious?" The business woman at the back of the line hisses, her heel tapping against the floor successively as she continues to wait.
Comin' right up!" Oliver sets to work making a club sandwich with expert precision and speed. He's been here a while and has done this before, obviously. When she enters and queues up, Angel is given a friendly grin and nod from the sandwich jockey, but his focus remains mainly on Eleanor. After a glance at her name-tag, he grins wider. "Eleanor, huh? That's a nice name. Your parents name you after anyone in particular?" His hands pause momentarily as he holds up the mustard bottle in a silent question: Mustard, yes or no?
Angel Gives Oliver a quick smile back, she smirks at the business woman in front of her who is tapping her heel and hissing shaking her head. She pulls out a small palm pilot and starts to write as she waits though she glances at who’s at the front of the line.
"This is ridiculous, I'm leaving!" The woman finally squeaks, slapping the side of her hip and brushing rudely past Angel with a glare. The other woman behind Eleanor simple steps to the side, not knowing yet what she wants either. "Oh," Eleanor huffs, wincing as she glances behind her - a sheepish expression thrown Angel's way, "Uhm, I'm not sure," she laughs quietly, "I was adopted." The teen dips her head in to read the man's name tag, "/Oliver/." Her smile brightens.
Victory! The businesswoman is watched with a self-satisfied smirk before Oliver turns his attention back to Eleanor. He winces slightly at the mention of his name, but it's a comical thing. "Yeah, can you believe it? My middle name is Twist, no joke. My parents are big Dickens fans." Another glance is thrown in the direction of the departed businesswoman before he adds in a low laugh: "Score one for the /real/ working class, huh?" He finishes with Eleanor's sandwich and rattles off the total, motioning Angel to step up to the counter so that he can get to her next.
Angel Beams a bright smile to Oliver, "Hi, Oliver." She knows he won't remember her mostly due to the amount of people that run trough the place on a regular stream but she waits till he has a min to order from him . She gives Eleanor a smile "I wouldn't worry to much since moving to this city I notice there are at least 3 people in every store like that every day.”
Eleanor sides-steps out of the way as she replaces her wallet and re-organizes her purse. She'd prefer to be /ready/ before picking up her meal. "Oh, I wasn't worried," she offers in a breath, "She was like a douche…" Her eyes bulge with amusement momentarilly and she laughs. Still, her fair complexion shows the blooming embaressment over her cheeks and neck quite clearly. "Thank you," the girl mumbles sweetly to Oliver as she lifts up her sandwich, motioning with it, "And I love Dickens." She turns to find a seat, running her free hand through her wheat-colored hair.
"There're more than three people in every store like that every day," laughs Oliver. "I get at least a hundred of them." A nod and a friendly grin is given to Eleanor when she heads off to a table. "You're more than welcome. Thanks for making my day!" Then, he's moved to the far end of the counter again and beams at Angel. "And welcome back, Miss Angel," he greets with melodramatic flair, "would you like your usual today?"
Angel Beams that bright smile again "Please and thank you " she's always polite or tries to be " Though I was saying 3 people like that at a time.” She grins, "Statistically your number is better for the day.” Yep, she's still screaming GEEK!!!! But she waits for Oliver to make her bacon Chicken on a baguette with extra Cucumbers.
Eleanor carefully finds her seat. Her cell phone rings the tune to 'Part of their World' from the Little Mermaid, but she side-buttons it to lean in to her sandwich. Why ruin her dinner, right?
As before, Oliver proceeds to expertly prepare the sandwich, moving on down the line of sandwich goodies at a quick clip. "Mmm, about three people at a time on average, yeah," he agrees, still grinning. And then when Eleanor's phone grins, he snickers. "My point is proven!" he calls loud enough to be heard. "You phone slave." It's all in good fun, of course.
Angel giggles brightly and smiles moving to have a seat, "Can I join you?" She asks to Eleanor as she stands with her food that Oliver gave her. She pauses “You on break yet?” She asks him she wants company right now.
Eleanor smiles, "Oh, sure. The more the merrier." The girl shakes her head, moving inward despite there being plenty of room on the other side of the booth. A shy glance and a pant is offered over her shoulder to Oliver at his teasing as she's unsure how to react. She does so pleasantly, at least. With a self-aware pout, she leans over her phone and turns it off completely. A pang of guilt irks at her for dismissing her sick mother so easily, but she conceals it well.
"Not yet, unfortunately," is Oliver's regretful response. "I've got some things to do in the back first. You ladies enjoy yourselves, though, and I'll join you in a tick." Already a couple of co-workers are coming out to take Oliver's place, and the sandwich jockey/musician offers a grin and a wave before disappearing into the back area of the store.
Angel smiles brightly at Eleanor " Thanks " she sits down next to the girl and settles into the booth . She takes several bites of her food enjoying it. "I love this place," she gives a sigh, "Makes me forget about work for a few minutes." She sneezes a little as if her nose is reacting to something.
Eleanor smiles meekly, "Yeah." She only takes tiny, testing bites out of her sandwich. One might think she isn't quite sure about it, if only she were paying it any real mind at all. Her mind is elsewhere, though - her eyes drifting out towards the window and the street. "Any everything else," she expands on Angel's idea quietly. Smirking.
Angel nods her head and eats some more then pauses pulls back and sneezes again , and again but its what happens next the sound of Groaning from the booth that makes her gulp , " Oh shit oh no not again " is all she gets out before the booth crumples under her and she lands on the ground of course the booth moves upwards hopefully Eleanor doesn't get too hurt is all she can think about as she hits the floor sounding more like a 800 pound body hitting then her small frame.
Eleanor lets out a shrill scream, rising up from her seat in a flash - both hands rising up in the air. Unfortunately, as the booth juts upwards, she is forced back into a sitting position - wrapping her arms tightly around the cushioning and holding on for dear life. Her legs swing forward to try and brace against the wall but her clunky black heels just slip instead. She should have changed into sneakers when she had the chance!
Angel groans in the splinters sputtering as she quickly gets up and makes an attempt to grab Eleanor to help you "Oh my God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She tries to help best she can face just burning with shame.
There's a loud /CRNCHrrrrumble/ from the front of the shop. There should not /be/ such noises. Oliver and those co-workers not already working the counter poke their heads out of the back room, the former having put away his apron and hat for the day. He stares in utter bewilderment at the strange phenomenon that has occurred before he pushes forward and out from behind the counter to lend a hand. What few customers were still in the store have fled, while employees dash around madly for various things — a phonecall to 911 not the least of them. As Angel moves forward to help Eleanor, so does Oliver. He bounds up the rise that has been created from the damage done to the booth, slipping a bit as his sneakers get a grip on the linoleum, and he offers an arm toward the stranded woman. "Here, give me your hand."
Eleanor grits her teeth, her hands sliding down from the booth. Her legs flail about wildly as she does her best to keep from falling. A show flips off from her foot, flinging in some random direction. She doesn't move to reach for either of the two, too afraid off falling to make such an attempt.
Angel Is beat beat red, "I don't now what happened the booth broke under me!" Is all she can get out . She looks to Oliver, "Here help me." She points to the end that's on the ground "You grab it and me we should be able to lower it back to the ground without much effort.”
Being slight of build, Oliver doesn't look as though he /would/ be able to heft that end of the booth. However, he also doesn't have that much of a grip either, and he soon slides back to the ground — without Eleanor. Huff. He considers Angel for a moment before he nods and motions over a few co-workers. Together with these people, the opposite end of the booth is lifted and balanced out, more or less returning Eleanor to terra firma.
With a light, feminine grunt, Eleanor pushes off of the booth hard once the opportunity presents itself. She lands on all fours rather than her unbalanced feet, wincing and crumbling slightly to the ground. Her slinky blonde hair blows about in the air with the moment to all but completely conceal her face.
Angel gives quick directions, "Please, push there, that's it, not too hard!” Soon she's back then she goes and finds a chair and sits down into it holding her back " Owch " . She looks over, “She okay? Somebody tell me she's okay."
That is precisely what Oliver is attempting to find out. As soon as Eleanor is back on solid ground, he moves to her side and drops onto his knees beside her, reaching to brush the mussed hair from her face. "Are you all right?" he asks, eyes wide behind his thin-framed glasses. The booth incident is just one of many strange happenings in the shop recently. He's starting to wonder if working here is considered /healthy/.
Parting her lips, the girl flexes her jaw in a breathy groan, leaning in to Oliver shakily. Not one to take abuse, the fragile young woman slides back onto her rear to get her knees up off the ground. "I'm okay," Eleanor mumbles quietly, despite her eyes swelling up slightly with tears. Naturally, she equates nothing being broken to her being 'okay'.
Angel hides her own tears and face in her own hair she's not having a good day and a back full of splinters never helps either. When Eleanor says she's okay that's a huge relief to her as she lets the pain wash over her from the impact.
By now, the manager has arrived after placing a call to emergency services, and he moves to Angel to check on her and offer what comfort he can. "I'm sorry, ma'am," he intones, concerned. "I've called for an ambulance. Are you hurt? I don't know what happened with that booth."
Oliver, meanwhile, has taken to putting an arm around Eleanor's shoulders and offering what comfort he can as he peers over at the broken booth. That … looks like a /meteor/ dropped into the place. But there's no meteor. Earthquakes, freak sound boosts — this place is /insane/. "Can I get you anything?" he inquires of Eleanor. "A chair, some water?"
"No… uhm, no…" Eleanor's voice slurs quietly as she gently presses into Oliver, using him as leverage to stand. She half expects him to stand with her, or hopes, rather. It'd certainly be easier if he helped her up. Heh. Running her fingers up the front of her bangs, she blinks her eyes quickly, darting them warily in the direction of Angel. A silent worry is projected as she attempts to check the other woman over. "I have to go home," she pants quietly, pushes briskly away from Oliver to hobble towards her purse. Crap. Only one shoe. Where is her cell?
Angel shakes her head, "I'm okay, I'm okay, it's okay the floor broke my fall. Just my back. Do you have an aspirin? It'll be okay,” She holds her head. It looks like it's her head that hurts worse than her back. She looks up as Eleanor hobbles past. Angel makes up her mind and stands up with a wince, "I don't know what happened but I'm sorry.”
The manager shakes his head. "It's best if you wait for the paramedics to arrive, miss," he states, intending it for both women. That way, he doesn't get the threat of liability. Yeah. That's /always/ a good thing. "They'll be here soon." Already, the sounds of sirens can be heard in the distance.
Oliver does indeed stand to help Eleanor up and when she hobbles away from him, he follows to help search for the missing shoe, purse, and cell. "You should be sitting down," he informs her quietly. "I'll get your things, don't worry. Just have a seat." A faint smile of assurance, and then he's trawling through the wreckage.
"No, I really should go," Eleanor persists sweetly as she tosses away her hair, rifling through her purse for a moment. Hunger and pain are briefly forgotten as her mind angles towards the police and possible paramedics that might come on scene. She should have answered the phone. Bad things always happen when she lets it go. A tear slips down to run against the front of her blouse, a faded grayish speck forming where it settles into the fabric. She pays this occurrence no mind. Similar worn, discolorations mark the fabric of her pants at her knees.
Angel is slowly getting to her own feet " No, no, I'll be fine It didn't hurt me mostly just feel and I feel fine just little pain in my back ". She does pause when looking at Eleanor, "Wait, what just happened there?” She moves closer her scientist mind kicking in and forgetting the pain as she moves "Your tear just turned the shirt another color.”
"If your back is injured, you /really/ should wait for the paramedics." The manager looks almost panicked now. If two injured customers walk out of here and then decide to sue? He's in /deep/.
Oliver seems perturbed at Angel's observation, and he glances at Eleanor as he brings back the shoe he found in the shattered booth. He sees the spot, sure, but there're plenty more like it on her clothes. "That's impossible," he utters, frowning at the scientist. "I think you're just seeing things." The shoe is presented to Eleanor with a gentle smile. "My boss is right," he adds, "you should wait for the paramedics. I've been in a car accident; sometimes you don't know how bad things are until you get checked out by a doctor."
Eleanor carefully takes the shoe from Oliver, lifting her foot up behind her to slide it on, "No, I can't." Her eyes show a sharp flash of anger at the woman as she points out the bleaching. Gritting her teeth into each other, she feels her mouth salivate for a kill but she doesn't. She wouldn't. "I'm fine." Her eyebrows furrow as she dips down to scoop up her cell phone. Clutching it to her breasts, she pushes past the small crowd of customers that has formed and out of the shop. Guess she'll have to get her dinner elsewhere from now on…
Angel Nods "Alright, alright. I'll stay. Hey, wait, I didn't mean," she watches the girl flee and shakes her head "It was just an observation. I didn't mean to make her run.” She sighs and looks at her hands wincing as she remembers her back all of a sudden.