Participants:
| Scene Title | Gated Community |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Eltingville is kind of a like a gated community, right? |
| Date | March 23, 2011 |
AND
Cleaned up though still looking a little worse for the wear herself, a few new bruises and some scrapes and a skittish rabbit sort of demeanor, Koshka only nods absently to the offer of clothing. Ernesto, once he's noticed, gets a cautiously curious look. But then she's settled on the floor in front of the couch, hands with fingers laced tightly together resting in her lap. "We should call Sam," she agrees with another nod. She'd have called sooner but communication had been greatly limited.
Taking a breath, Koshka looks up at Brian. Almost like she's still trying to grasp him being here as well. "You were gone. And… I was just trying to help, make it easier for everyone. I tried to contact some fishermen but…" She shrugs. She hadn't heard back on anything. "So I went and… I thought they would just have me pay a fine and they didn't. So I tried to leave and they brought me here anyway."
A level look is delivered down to Koshka, no emotion visible. Though the look may be slightly judgmental. "I wish you wouldn't have done that." Brian murmurs softly. There's nothing that can change it now. Glancing down at the cell phone at the coffee table, he leans back into his couch. One elbow is propped up on his knee, leaning his chin down in his good hand. A light sigh flows out before he reaches out to snag the cell phone. Samara's number is dialed.
Looking down at Koshka, he gives a sad apologetic smile. "I guess our amusement park trip will have to wait a little." SEND is pressed, as Brian holds up the phone. "Don't cry okay. We have to make this phone call as happy as possible for her, alright?"
"Me too," Koshka replies, quietly. There's no doubt of the regret in her tone, the proverbial kick to the head she should be receiving. "I'd undo it if I could. Just wanted to make it easier to help with the kids." Since she can't drive, or get a job. But the choice was suppose to help with that and in turn help with keeping the little kids comfortable.
With a small nod, Koshka lowers her chin to her knees, arms angling to hold them toward her chest. "I won't cry." She'll try not to anyway. A glances is directed up to Brian. Her forehead creases slightly, and in afterthought a look goes toward the kitchen. But the cooking might well keep Ernesto busy for a while. And if Brian trusts him… The girl nods again.
Babies pick up on the energy of those around them. It's unfortunate, but true— even when the adults around them try what they will to soothe otherwise frazzled nerves, babies know better, much to Samara's chagrin.
"Come on Kasha~ shhhhhhh~ Just a little nap, that's all I want~" the dark haired twenty-something peeks over the cradle to stare at the fussy little one, bringing a very disgenuine smile to her lips. She's trying. She presses a finger to her lips, like somehow the baby will know what this means. "C'mon sweetie~ Kasha darling~ You're driving me crazy~ Please just sleep~ Just a widdle widdle nap~" The judgment she carries towards herself for having just employed baby talk is prominent as her entire expression falls. The fake smile melts from her lips as her hands hold onto the side of the crib. She raises a single finger and wags it rather expectantly— whether it's to her or to the baby is entirely unclear— "The book said to let you self-soothe which may seem like cruel and unusual punishment, but I bet it's for my sanity— " her eyes widen considerably as she forces a nearly maniacal smile. It's one of those moments: if she doesn't smile, she'll cry.
"I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts~" the music streams from her pocket as she takes a step away from the still-fussy Kasha. "Just… sleep…" her hands are held out in front of her quite resigned as she slips through the floor and becomes corporeal inside the confines of the cellar. "Worst. Mother. Ever," she murmurs as the phone is pressed to her ear. Still in her baby-voice which is too many octaves too high for any adult conversation, she nearly squeaks into the phone, "Helloooo" only to clear her throat, "hello?"
"Hi baby."
The voice comes in a soothing and adoring tone. Brian gives Koshka a somewhat apologetic look. Noticing her look over to Ernesto he waves his hand in dismissal. 'He's cool', Brian mouths. And then it's back to the phone. "Hey. Sameye. You sound tired." Brian soothes gently, before cringing some over at Koshka. How does one say…
"I have Koshka. Sam. She's here with me. She's.. safe." Brian makes sure to sound especially enthusiastic about that last part. Bringing the phone away from his ear, he goes to hand it to Koshka. "Talk to her." He murmurs quietly.
A look is given the phone, as though the teenager might expect it to bite. Catching her lower lip within her teeth, she hesitates in taking the phone. Explaining to Sam might end up being more difficult than explaining to Brian. A lengthy exhale follows as she reaches for the phone, hand shaking slightly in anxiety. She presses the phone to her own ear, eyes lifting to Brian for affirmation. No crying, right.
"Hi, Sami." Koshka's voice wavers slightly, lips press together to give herself another half second. "Um… I found Brian?" Not really, and apparently he's been in contact with Sam if he's calling her now.
Those two words in greeting are enough to have Sam sinking into the cellar's couch. Her lips part wordlessly as Brian just jumps to it. Her eyebrows knit together as she tries to figure out what else could go wrong. Meanwhile, her eyes clamp shut and she presses the phone tighter to her ear.
There's no easy words. Nothing said following her initial hello, just utter and complete silence. WHen she manages a thought, any thought, it's not about Kasha (who she can hear through the vents in the floor), how tired she is, or really specifically about any of the information she's just been fed. Instead, it's one word, nearly terse in tone as her eyes finally open, "What?"
And then she's being passed over to Koshka, warranting a hand pressed tighter to her forehead. "I.. hi?" she asks rather than greets; rendered somewhat silent by her circumstances as of late.
"Put it on speaker."
The command is gentle as Brian lays his finger missing hand on Koshka's shoulder. He points to said finger before making a cutting motion at his neck. No talking about the missing finger, apparently. Once Koshka does put it on speaker, Brian leans into the couch some. "Yeah. You were kind of getting kind of ridiculous so Koshka and I hatched this elaborate plot to get our own house that would be free from the tyranny of your cooking." Leaning forward on the couch, his arms press down against his knees. "We're safe baby. We're fine. Koshka.. She got caught." He presses his lips together. "But listen, Sam. This isn't a sad call alright? This is a happy call. I met a guy. He kind of works with these people. He says he might be able to get people in here. For visits. So.. I mean if I work with this guy a little bit. We could…" He smiles gently. He'll let her piece the rest together.
The phone is placed on speaker without question, though Koshka does look in askance at the nixed missing finger. She gives a slow nod to show she understands. The phone is placed on the couch beside Brian's knee, within easy reach and able to pick up both speakers on their end. A weak, sad smile and even a nervous chuckle is produced at the idea of running away because of Sam's cooking.
"It's not so bad," Koshka offers. It's worse than bad from what little she's seen, but she's a good liar when she wants to be. "Kind of like …living in a gated community."
"H-h-how is this not sad?" Sam nearly squeaks. "I'm the worst guardian in the history of guardians. Koshka is all— wherever you are… " her teeth toy at her bottom lip. "I know nothing about babies. Nothing. One book says to self-soothe and that seems like a great idea because I'm— " she waves a hand flippantly as if to say her state of mind is of no consequence. "And the other book says to coddle, but I don't even think— " exasperatedly a hand is extended into the air until she lets it fall.
Despite herself, and her generally pleasant demanour, she murmurs sardonically in her fatigue, "Is the guy you met cute at least? And you insisted you weren't gay." Her lips press together and she shakes her head slightly, as her fingerspress against her lips."Sorry. Not funny. I'm not even able to fake a — " she lets go a slow breath. "What happened? And who is this man? And… " her eyebrows knit together tighter.
"Because we have hope. Sam." Brian intones quietly, glancing down at the floor. "You're natural with the kids, Sam. I'm sure you're doing fine. You'll do…" A sharp breath is taken. Eric's already there. But she's still struggling. He glances over to Koshka. This is very unfortunate. Who else is there to help out with… "Sam? Why don't you ask Adisa and Tahir to come stay at the place? I mean. They may be averse to it at first but…" He lets out a slow breath. "You need help baby. You can't take care of a million children by yourself."
Glancing back over to Koshka he lets out a quiet smile. Gated community. "Yeah. A really nice gated community. Our fridge is stocked with Grey Popoun and we have our own golf course." A quiet laugh is let out in response. "He's actually really good looking." Brian admits, giving a little shrug. "I guess I can't help myself. And he smells like flowers and cookies mixed together." Though his lips go into an o shape when Samara talks about faking a… He smiles brightly at Koshka. "We've never had sex." He murmurs under his breath to Koshka. Then back to the phone. "His name is John Logan." Good thing he never told Sam about how much he hates Logan.
At the Bay House, the cellar hatch stirs, one foot touching down at the stairs as the shape of Brian peers down into the cellar. The Brian with the memories of a sixteen year old tilts his head at Samara some. "Samara? You okay? The baby is crying…" Because she didn't know.
"Yeah right," Koshka says just loud enough to be heard over the phone, and with a roll of her eyes. "I slept in the next room, remember?" Besides, Sam's expecting another kid of her own. If not Brian's whose else would it be? She lowers her chin to her knees again, watching the phone. "Sami, you're not the worst guardian. Everything will be alright." She's not sure, but there's got to be hope.
"I'm terrible and I can't be convinced otherwise! Kasha just.. she won't stop crying. Ever." Sam takes another deep breath and considers, "Maybe? I don't know. Adisa would be fine and I love Tahir dearly but I don't know how he'd deal with kids everywhere. All of the time. Everywhere. I don't think they know when they're supposed to be sleeping. Or when I'm supposed to be sleeping— and nothing will be alright— "
"Sounds like he smells better than me. I'm pretty sure I wreak of baby vomit. Or baby powder. Or.. something." Sami's eyes squeeze shut again only to widen open as the teenage Brian trails into the cellar. She shoots him a weak smile. "I'm okay… ish. Kind of," she says more into the phone than she intends, particularly as she shoots Brian a tighter smile still. "I know the baby is crying. We're trying something different, we're going to see if she can soothe herself…"
"It's worth a shot, babe. And I know if Tahir knew you were struggling, he would help you out. Even with vomit machines." Brian glances down to Koshka, brows narrowing some. "You heard her not me, right? Right!?" And then back to the phone. "You're not terrible. You're going to be a wonderful mom." Winters grumps. Pushing the phone to the side a little. One foot kicks up to rest on his opposite knee. "No one smells better than you, Sam." His adoration practically dumped onto the receiver. "Would you…" A pause as another, male voice is heard.
Brian's brows draw down some, eyes widening a bit. Hands grasp at his knees, shoes going to slump against the ground weakly. What.
"Is that.." Ahem. "Is that me?" Brian's voice sounds out over the phone.
At the Bay House, Brian is giving a bit of an awkward smile to Samara. "I ah, I don't think it's working." He glance up at the ceiling of the cellar. "Maybe she pooped." The look he gives Samara is one of 'maybe you should check that out'. But then, "Who ya talkin to?"
"Right," Koshka agrees. It's given a shrug as well, she'll agree though she's pretty sure she's heard both of them. Not that she'll admit it right now. "What about… the teacher," she suggests, leaving a name off of Graeme in hopes that Sam or Brian catches on. "He might be able to help." And he seems safe enough to trust, in her non-expert opinion.
The girl's head tilts toward the phone slightly, a confused look coming over her face at the new voice. "That's creepy if that's you."
"Would I…?" Sam repeats, leaving the question to hang. And then, Brian hears himself. "Kind of, I guess?" she nearly asks into the phone, not convinced. "He's sixteen," she says bluntly as her hand presses to her forehead. "I sent Fulk to the island and then there was a swap and I am over my hear here and so it seemed like a good idea at the time… and then Koshka was missing… and he thinks I'm not good at this whole thing… " her eyes track to the Brian in the room, "Seems to think I'm mistreating the baby by letting her cry."
Randomly her attention turns to the other Brian, "I just checked her before I got on the phone. Let her cry a little longer, I'll check on her in like twenty minutes or something and see if she pooped." Her cheeks flush slightly as she sighs. Little Brian's question has her eyebrows arching, "Uh— " Well that's gotta be hard to explain. "It's… " her lips part slightly as she stares at him semi-blankly, "It's you." She shrugs. Maybe he'll just go with it.
"The teacher? Like pickpocket guy?" Sam's head tilts slightly. "I guess that's a possibility maybe… I don't know if I know how to get in touch with him do I?"
Brian at the house frowns defiantly. "I don't think you're bad at it. I was just saying— She's crying a lot." Little Brian whines some, hands flailing out in a defensive gesture. "But okay.I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset." The little guy's cheeks flush some as he turns back to the stairs. BUt he's caught by her answer. Oh. It's him. Wide eyes turn him around to stare at the phone. That is weird.
"It's not creepy. It's New York City." Brian murmurs to Koshka in defense. "Tell him to shutup." Brian tells Samara. He has no problem with bullying around his sixteen year old self it seems. "Wow.. That's pretty weird. Um. I don't think I want to talk to him." He glances over to Koshka. Then back to his phone. "Oh the pick pocket guy.. Oh hey yeah. I have his card! Sami! It's in my jeans pocket. The dark blue ones with the whole in the right leg. My favorite pair! I think you can call him from that. I told him I needed to vet him before I contacted him again but…" A light shrug is given. Desperate times.
"Yeah, him." Koshka frowns slightly. "I know his number. I could give it to you." Not now, not over an open line. She's wise enough to be wary of that. "He seems alright. And.. he's a teacher. You can trust teachers." She gives the phone another look, brows rising as Little Brian whines, interrupting her own line of thought. "Yeah. Creepy."
"She's crying a lot because she secretly hates me and she knows I'm just a stand-in for who normally looks after her," and then, with a more exasperated sigh, Sam shakes her head as she addresses Little Brian again, "I'm sorry, you didn't deserve that… I'm just exhausted. And it's no excuse, I'm just.." No. No excuses this time. Instead, she leaves the apology there to hang between them. At least she apologized.
She readdresses the people on the other end of the phone. "That guy I talked to? The one who no longer deserves a name? He thinks I need to get all of the yous in one space because it'll wear off or something eventually and then you'll all merge together. I don't think I have a hope of gathering the Company one though." She sighs heavier now. If she's honest, she's terrified of Company Brian, but she's not going to say that; being on the end of a gun is something she'd rather not relive.
"Ooooh. I know where those jeans are, I can find the card after we're done talking and try to get in touch. But.. is he really trustworthy? I mean, it's not that I don't think people mean well, it's just we're vulnerable here. I couldn't get everyone out if I needed to, I don't think— "
"Search his apartment." Brian suggests with a light shrug. Is it scary that that is where his first thought goes? It might be. "It'll wear off?" Brian's features screw up some, delivered at Koshka. "If I know myself. And I was in my Company days?? I went to Veronica." He frowns lightly. Feeling like he should probably apologize to his fiancee for the actions of his other him. "I'm.. Sorry." He gives a light shrug. "I don't know if that's going to make you upset or not. This is.. Can we just say it's too weird to be upset about?" Winters gives a frown. "Baby. One was with Big N, remember? Maybe you should get word to the Club about him. See if they can get a hold of him and find out if he has one." A little shrug is let out. A light smile crosses his lips as she says she knows where his jeans are. For a moment, everything feels normal.
His four fingered hand stretches out to moosh Koshka's face, pushing her away gently with a little grin as he leans towards the phone. "I love you so much. I'm going to seduce this guy into getting you to see me. And we're going to have epic… conversations. The best conversations anyone has ever had. And then we'll talk too." A grin remains present on his lips as his hand drops from Koshka's face.
The Little Brian just stares, giving a little nod. UHhhhhHH. He takes a slow step backward, then retreats towards the cellar door.
As her head's pushed aside, Koshka gives another roll of her eyes. She takes the hint, though, and scoots away from the phone to give some feeling of privacy for Sam and Brian. With little else to offer herself, she glances toward the kitchen where Ernesto's been busily preparing tacos.
"Search his apartment. Really?! I don't know how to pick a lock— " it's an odd problem to have for a woman who walks through walls. "Oh. Right. I guess I could go search the apartment. What am I even looking for? Devotion to Humanis First?" Sami's face contorts together as she watches little Brian take to the stares. She'll make it up to him later. With fun or something. The name Veronica brings about silence as Sam holds her breath. But she doesn't realize she's holding it until she finds herself gasping for air. "Right… " her cheeks flush as she regains control of her faculties. "Veronica." She swallows hard and nods slightly as her tone flattens, "I don't think I could convince him to come here and wait it out anyways. He didn't seem.. didn't want to chat." She shudders. There's a deep frown as she considers how she's supposed to feel about it all, but it is what it is. And it certainly doesn't feel good.
But then what lately does? Her eyes clamp shut and she pushes herself back on topic. "Right. I'll try to get in touch with.. him. So many people. At least Big N knows me and won't say he's responsible for this." Sami sighs heavily as her fingers tap lightly against the cellphone.
Her cheeks brighten considerably. "I love you too." She clears her throat and her voice croaks some, "I miss you. Like a lot. Like you're here but you're not here, you know? Sixteen year old you is cool and all, but he's not you. Only he is." Her eyes open only to roll at her own confusion. "Sorry. I'm really struggling to process all of this. I mean, i know I never know everything you're doing, but I trust you in that. Like I know all of you— because you're normally one you— love me. But now? I'm so confused." Her lips hitch to one side.
"Just remember what I told you about N. Okay?" He frowns softly down at the silence and the breath taken. "Baby. I love you." He lets out a soft sigh. "If I could undo this you know I would. And I'm going to figure this all out okay? I'm going to get you help. And I'm.. I'll fix this okay? I just need a little time." And a couple miracles. "Don't be confused Sami. I'm here, okay? Things are weird. But I'm here and I'm constantly thinking of you. And Koshka's here. And you haven't met him, but Ernesto's here too. He's a really cool guy. He calls me his wife because he has a job here and he brings me food." He gives a little grin, shaking his head.
"You can still trust me me. Me." Does that make sense, he pushes Koshka's shoulder then motions to the phone. Say something is what the gesture says. And then Ernesto is calling. Dinner's ready.
Koshka looks back at the push, first looking at Brian and then at the phone. She hesitates, formulating something to say, something that would be helpful and hopeful and all the things she doesn't particularly feel at the moment. "Everything's going to be okay, Sam. And you're a good guardian. The best. And… you can do this. You're a great mom."
There might be more, Koshka's teeth pressing into her lip as she eyes the phone. Finally she gives up, offering Brian an apologetic look as she stands. Arms hugging onto herself, she makes her way into the kitchen, tentatively offering to help Ernesto with setting out places to eat or whatever little odd jobs there are.
Sam's eyebrows knit together tighter as her hands trail across her stomach. The question heavy on her mind is never uttered, skeptically left in the silence of the phone. Her doubts are never spoken, left silent as she hugs her stomach a little tighter. Her doubts are real, even if she can't bring herself to acknowledge them. Instead, she chooses not to be a burden, "I'm.. I'm okay," she insists even if she's not wholly convinced, "I'll get Adisa for sure and Tahir would maybe look after me, even if the kids are out of the question. And. I love you too. I'm just.." she shakes her head as she shuts herself down, "it's fine. I'm fine." It's a loaded word in a lot of respects, particularly when used by a woman— designed to shut down questions and her own feelings in one fowl swoop.
"Thanks Kosh, I know it's not.. I am trying… I'm sorry. I.. I failed you. I'm sorry." Her frown lightens, left permanently across her features as her fingers tighten around her phone.
Glancing over his shoulder at Koshka, Brian goes to click the speaker off his phone. Picking it up, he goes to wander in his room. "I'll be right there!" He calls out, going to kick the door closed rapidly. "You haven't failed anyone. You're amazing. You're my love. Are you in the cellar? Get the blanket and turn the space heater on." Leaning towards the door, Brian cracks it open to peer at Ernesto and Koshka in the kitchen. Stepping away, he continues to instruct his fiancee. "Now lay down. Grab the pillow. My mom used to sing me this. It's Irish. We're not Irish but.." He gives a little shrug.
"Tu ra lu ra lu rae~" It's a lullaby. One that is sang through quietly and gently. Tenderly. It may be painful to watch (or type) for any outside of Brian and Samara. But the song is delivered lovingly as Brian goes to push himself into his closet to ensure Ernesto nor Koshka overhears his singing. "Hush now don't you cry~"
In the kitchen Ernesto smiles brightly. His english is broken, but it is soon understood that he is a very gentle man. Helping Koshka help him with kind gestures. Very geeky and campy facial features made in an attempt to joke with her. Cheeks puffed out, making noises. It's all in an effort to soothe the strange emptiness that fills this entire neighborhood. It may not be in the most smooth way, but Ernesto demonstrates the gentleness of his heart. Giving Koshka a kind smile as he flips a cooked tortilla off the pan.
Back in the closet, Brian presses himself into the corner. "Sleep, Sameye. I love you."