[ binder's knots, of course this is the day someone else shows up in the baths—not any of her previous trips, which had all gone off without a hitch, no, tonight, of all nights, when ness is moments from—from—

well. nothing good, at any rate.

she hurriedly pulls her dress down, giving herself at least a modicum of dignity and a little less to panic about. there's barely a glance spared at her new companion before ness averts her eyes, looking for as quick an exit as she can possibly make. ]

I'm fine, thank you, sorry, I'm just—just trying to—oh, hells—

[ ness curls over her hand for a moment before catching herself, forcing herself upright. the squirming is getting more insistent. this is how it goes, it builds and builds, writhing under her skin so intensely she's certain there must be some physical evidence of it, a distortion or distention of her skin. she's never been able to see anything, and she's checked, over and over and over, but the fear's never abated.

she clutches her anchor-marked hand to her chest, fist shut tight in futile hope she can stop it. ]

I'm, sorry, I shouldn't be here. Sorry. Where's the, the exit?