She was invisible, whether planned or part of the greater design. Being invisible was never a bad thing, to her she was no different than the rest of the ruffians who poured in and out of Sully’s rest like an oscillating gyroscope. Funny, that was one of her favorite old world trinkets she kept in her studies. The only people she wasn’t invisible to were the waitstaff or the only person that waited on her ever. She had no need for the menu nor did the waitress because she had memorized her order rather quickly. Not that it was anything complicated, coffee with nothing to it that was probably better off as motor fluid than a curative for her insomnia. Her dish was anything they had in excess for the day as long as it was fried enough she couldn’t make out the sinew or the faces of whatever [i]it[/i] was. 

Reaver never thought she would be a regular to anywhere ever again, the last time she belonged anywhere was with her gang. She received her coffee, with a bit of snark from her server. It wasn’t too much longer that she was waiting for the jet streams of steam to cool off from her percolating cup-of-joe that ripples began to form on the surface. They were far and few between, until the roaring of engines grew closer and her cup started to clank against the metal plate. [i]”Oh for fucks sake, what is it now?”[/i] she thought to herself, watching her cup go limp and turn over onto its side, leaking its essence over the lip of the table.

[i]”Stiders”[/i] her one good ear perking up to feel the weight of familiar words ring loud on her ear drum. The profound look on Pete’s face was all she needed to see to know what was coming next. She simply shifted in her seat when the hail of bullets began to pierce and gnaw through the rusted sheets of metal that made up this dilapidated excuse for a restaurant. Holes streamed all alongside her, unintentionally making a silhouette of her with the bullet stream. Light poured out of the holes in thick cylindrical rods, tracing the dust particles that littered the air inside. Everyone else within the little diner did what their appearances lent themselves to do, fight back. 

While bullets were met with bullets, Reaver simply excused herself from the table and left a few chips behind, on account of the bad service today and walked toward the front of the diner. If they didn’t know her already, they would know her soon.