( @pistolism / ellis. ) there's a half-wasted pot of coffee still on the burner, and sophie is fixin' to pour it out, hoping to make a fresh pot. she slept in one of the jail cells last night - her apartment is being fumigated for cockroaches, seeing as how her landlord is a piece'a shit who doesn't care about the living conditions of his tenants. she needs to move, has made plans for doing so, but just hasn't gotten around to it.
she lost the house in the divorce, her husband claiming that it was his funds that paid for it, and to be honest, she didn't fight him on it. there was something about the inside of those walls, the bed where she found him cheating - she didn't want any part of it.
after her miscarriage, thing were strained between herself and holden. they didn't spend much time speaking to each other anymore, it was either uncomfortable silence or shouting matches that made the neighbors consider calling in law enforcement. that'd be just what she needed - cops to show up and tell her to keep it down. a huff of breath escapes her lips as she pours the almost burnt on the bottom pot of coffee into the sink, washing it down with a bit of hot water.
going through the motions, she takes her time in prepping a second pot of coffee, just in time to see their receptionist come in with a container of muffins. snagging one, she heads to the bathroom to freshen herself up before the others come inside, not wanting them to see her in a disheveled state. claire makes no remarks about sophie’s current state of dress - pajama pants and an old t-shirt, or the fact that she looks like she's had quite the rough night. if anyone else knew that she was spending nights here, they certainly didn't make an effort to mention it - and she was thankful for claire's silence on the situation.
pulling her uniform from where it was folded on the cot, she quickly made her way to the latrine to get dressed and situated, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. on her way out of the bathroom after brushing her teeth and washing her face, she nearly collided with one of her current least favorite complainants, an older woman who had it out for the young couple that lived next door. shoving the half of muffin she had remaining into her mouth, she "took the woman's statement" which was in reality just a form full of the complaints that had nothing to do with the police and showed her to the door as soon as ellis was entering the building.
"mornin' boss," she says, lifting a freshly poured cup of coffee in his direction, handing it off to him before fixing herself a second cup. "already got martha done this mornin'. same old, same old. somethin' about the darren's dog on her property, 'stealing things from her porch'. i filled out one'a the forms and showed her the door, per usual."
this was routine by now, something that she managed to make happen a few times a week. sometimes sophie simply wished for a crime to happen, a real crime, so that she could put off having to spend time with martha and her constant bullshit complaints. she was taking time away from potential actual things that the police officers had to do, but it didn't seem to bother the older woman.
"you heard from the others, they comin' in today?"
