Bioshock

Too much baggage

The next week

This week wasn't the easiest that Eleanor had endured, but she had worse; much worse. She managed to set up at an apartment, though the owner was less than pleasant, but the rent was dirt cheap. She had to be a bit tight with her money with at least ten mouths to fee, not including her own.

She had just entered the apartment, where Pete Song was at the front desk, a scowl permanently glued onto his pale face.

"Where's the rent?" He demanded, slamming his fist down onto the table. Eleanor didn't flinch, she dealt with much scarier people in rapture.

"The rent's not due for another two weeks. I'll get it to you then, but right now, you're taking abuse of me and I don't quite like it." Eleanor snapped back.

"Don't talk to me like that!" He yelled. "I'm your landlord! I make the rules! I set up the rent! And as long as your staying under my roof, you will follow and respect my rules!"

"Not if you're going to be like that. You push me, and I push back, harder." She said icily, twisting her hands in a fit, trying to control herself. She couldn't use plasmids. Not in public.

It was deadly quiet, and Eleanor could see Pete's lips purse together in anger; a vein was popping out of his head. She probably went a little overboard.

She continued, "I'm not going to be pushed around. Especially not by a sad man like you. If you want the rent, wait the two damn weeks or extort another one of your leasers, because I'm not going to pay for your damn drug habits."

As soon as those words had left her mouth, she regretted it. She had seen drugs on the street when people were careless and doing them in the park, but Pete had always kept his in his desk. He was careful about his drugs, and he never let anyone back in manager's office. It was when he had left the door just a few inches open that Eleanor caught him in the act.

All he did was look at her, his eyes were like two daggers boring into her skin, and he had a grimace that sent shivers down her spine. "I want you to get out, and never come back. I want you to pack your stuff and be gone by tomorrow evening. Clear?" He growled, his hands resting comfortably on the handles of his drawer. Eleanor guessed that he had a gun in there, and she was also sure that she could take him down without a sweat, but that would cause a lot of unwanted attention to her and the little sisters.

Her mouth had gone dry, and her throat felt like that it was stuffed with cotton. She nodded, letting Pete know that she'll be gone. She couldn't believe that she had gotten her family kicked out of the only place that was willing to take them for the little money they had. How she was going to tell the little sisters was beyond her, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to handle all the sad faces.

Her mother, had stood outside the door, listening to the conversation unfold as she had gotten back from work; her job was as a psychiatrist. It was ironic, to say the least. Her eyes had gone as wide as saucers and her mouth hung open in surprise.

Sofia hadn't much time to recompose herself before her daughter stormed out the door, and slammed it shut. When Eleanor had looked back at her mother, a piercing look of anger and eyes that seemed ready to kill bore into her. Sofia hadn't felt this scared when...well, she hadn't felt scared, ever. It was a true achievement to get the mother of Rapture to become scared, and it was of her own daughter no less.

A few days later.

Eleanor was at a cafe, wearing a bright pink dress that hugged her in all the right spots, and purple stiletto shoes, matched with a white, silk scarf. Today wasn't any other day, and she had dressed as well as she could, hoping to get in the good graces of her newest leaser; although nothing was set in stone, and she really hoped that her new landlord was much better than Pete.

"These stilettos are killing me," She grumbled out of annoyance as she scratched at the heel of her foot for what seemed like the twentieth time today. She glanced around her, noting of all the men, staring at her shapely and ghostly pale legs that disappeared into the frill of her dress.

She felt her face heat up and continued to sip her coffee, hoping that no-one would notice her distress and take advantage of it. Where is she? Eleanor wondered, placing the ceramic cup down on a plate.

She had left Sofia in charge of the little sisters while she was gone; albeit that wasn't one of the smarter things she had done, but she wasn't about to leave them all alone with a complete stranger, one who could do more harm than good. It still worried her that Sofia might not have changed after all, but she needed to get a new landlord; Eleanor wasn't going to let the little sisters sleep on the streets, and that meant having to deal with Sofia for the time being.

She looked down at her cup, staring at the brown contents arduously. She was so concentrated on her coffee that she didn't notice that an middle aged woman with brown hair that was tied back into a ponytail sat down with her. She wore a light brown dress and carried a purse that matched her dress.

"...hello?" The middle aged woman asked, snapping her fingers in front of Eleanor's face.

"Oh! Sorry, I was out of my wits for a second," Eleanor apologized, twirling her hair with a finger.