Participants:
| Scene Title | A Complete Stranger |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Joy approaches Abby and asks her for a home. |
| Date | February 27, 2010 |
Old Lucy's has a vibrant and lively feel to it, from the dark wooden floors to the black and cream risque wallpapered walls lit up by neon lights and many times, the flashing of cameras from the oft-crowded floor. The mirror behind the bar reflects prices of various drinks, bottles lined up, as well as the entire saloon as seen from the bartenders; bolted-down stools line the other side, and there are loose tables and chairs placed all around, though many times they find themselves pushed back for more space within the center of the saloon. A few speakers are placed at strategic places and around a raised stage to the far corner from the bar.
Above the counter, an obviously well-used bar is hung; it is this that the girls working will use should there be dancing, which is one reason many patrons choose to come aside from the drinks. Across the bar and near the back, there is a door that leads to the back room and owner's office and a stairwell that leads the residence above the floor above the bar.
This place is beginning to be somewhat of a haunt. If Joy has her way, though, it'll be home. Oh, lord. Home above a bar. The blonde takes a seat at that bar and orders herself - perhaps surprisingly - a cola before asking the bartender on duty to speak to the boss lady. This can go one of two ways, and Joy isn't about to tip the scales one way or the other by adding alcohol to the mix.
Boss Lady's upstairs but she's available, after a quick talk on the phone, out from the back room emerges the blonde bar owner, wiping her hands on a folded apron and looking for whoever was requesting her presence. Which seems to be the … un-named blonde that she'd met only once. In a den full of murderer's, serial killers and thieves.
She purses her lips together and makes her way to the area where Joy sits. "What can I do for you? Brenda's already seen to your drink it seems"
"Abby… Thank you for seeing me." Joy brings her drink to her lips, her eyes glancing at the other woman over the rim of her glass, nervousness there. "I know that we've never… We didn't really start out… I'm… not the same person I was when we first met." Joy winces at the younger woman as she sets aside her glass. "I need your help, Miss Beauchamp. You're a good person. I know you are. You're the only person I think I can turn to…"
"I can't help someone who's name I don't know" Abigail politely points out. There's another purse of her lips with a side glance to Brenda before she jerks her head towards the back room. "I get a feeling that I'm going to want some privacy for this conversation" The younger blonde states and with that, Joy is invited towards the back room.
Joy nods her head quickly and follows Abby to the back room, cola in tow. When the door is shut safely behind them, she leans against the wall next to the entry, one arm tucked across her body. "I'm sorry. You left an impression on me, I never thought about…" She waves a hand to dismiss her own stray thoughts. "My name is Joy Saint-Jacques. I used to be a pawn of the Vanguard, I admit. I like to think I discovered the error of my ways in the end…"
"I'm a morphine addict, I have no friends, and I have no place to live. I was hoping you could help me with that last problem. I have no where else to go. You…" Joy drags her fingers through her messy blonde hair and frowns thoughtfully. "You were a good person when I met you. You seemed like the right… choice."
Abigail opts to sit on the couch, listen to Joy's story with sincere interest. She's not doing this just to placate the blonde but hear her out. "You've met me only once and i'm not that same woman you met. I can't heal you of an addiction Joy. I lost that ability. I can't heal anything anymore" She wants to make that perfectly clear to the other woman since some people don't know that the formerly registered healer is now powerless.
But there's still the issue of the woman in need of help. particularly in the area of sleeping accommodations. "I don't exactly have room above the bar Joy. I'm not the only person who lives here. Have you tried with the others that you ran with? Seen if any of them might be willing to put you up?"
"I'm not looking for healing," Joy clarifies, "My addiction is my own cross to bear." Rubbing her hand over her chin, she falls silent and contemplates the answer given. "I don't need a lot of space. I can couch surf. I just… It would be nice to sleep somewhere with heat." Talk of her old compatriots draws a stormy sort of look. "I'm not… We didn't part on the best of terms. We weren't very close in the first place. The ones I may have called friends have all died."
"Why me Joy? It's not like I bear good feeling towards you and those who you ran with. Some I've… come to know better but surely there's some other place you can go. You can't seriously be sitting here and telling me that a complete stranger, is your only avenue left for shelter. Plus" A hand comes up, forefinger the only one raised. "I don't like user's in my home. You're gonna have to clean up before I even think of it. I won't want to come home to seeing, or hearing from my other roommates that there's someone shooting up in my bathroom"
"I'm clean, but I'm still an addict. I will always be an addict. It's just a question of whether I'm using or not, and I am not using right now." As much as she would perhaps like to. "And, yes, I am seriously telling you that a complete stranger is my only avenue. I'm not a fan of the people I used to run with, either. They certainly aren't fans of mine. If I were still in touch with them, I wouldn't be here."
There's a vague gesture toward the ceiling, as if to indicate the apartments above the bar. "I've spoken with Teodoro… He's been helpful to me." Joy pulls a face, "I don't know if that's my way of providing a reference or what. I don't know anything anymore. I'm in trouble and I just need somewhere to go. Just until I can get back on my feet. I swear, you can throw me out on my ass if I fuck up."
Bleeding Heart. Always has and always will. "Listen. I can't let you stay upstairs. As much as I would like to, there's no room, and there's some folks that would have my head if I let someone I don't know, stay up there." Abigail stands up, rubbing her hands together, fingers pointing towards the floor.
"I can let you stay back here. It's not the greatest but it's better than the street. There's a bathroom back here, if you need food, just ask one of the girls to order you something from the kitchen." There's a wrinkle of her nose. "As for showers, when you need one, just ask Brenda to let you in upstairs, she knows how to get past everything. There's towels in the closet, I'll make Sure Teo leaves you some out, or Le-Alexander. It's the best I can do Joy, really, and it'll have to do. I'll make sure there's bedding down here. Unfortunately, it won't be quiet here till a little past eleven at night."
Joy's face lights up when Abby finally agrees to give the other woman space to live. "You are a saint," the older blonde exclaims. "Thank you. Thank you!" Joy stops just short of dashing forward to embrace Abby. "I'll be a good tenant. I swear. I- I can help out around here, too."
Thank god, because she was ready to step back and put her hands up. "What.. can you do around here Joy? I mean, do you know how to serve bar, work a kitchen, wash dishes?" She's fishing for some way for the other blonde to reciprocate, knowing full well the need to do something in exchange for something else.
"I can wash dishes. I don't know a lot of drink recipes, so I'm probably not your best choice for that…" Joy looks upward, trying to think of other ways she can help out. "I can help clear up at the end of the night, I guess. Sweep up, wipe down tables…" She shakes her head, looking in askance. Can you think of anything else?
"Then, that's what you'll do. Help clean up at the end. If you have a social security number, I can put you on payroll and I can pay you some money. Busy hands will help keep you from wanting to do other stuff. If you don't, then I'll try and put you in under the table. But I can pay you much better if you do" Abby points out. "Come back before curfew, everything will be set up for you, Teo or someone can let you up to shower and the kitchen will have some food for you" The former healer offers.
"I don't have a legal identity," Joy admits. "Never have, or I'd be happy to provide. But please, I don't need your money. I'm happy to work in return for a place to stay, and food to eat." Lips tug into a bittersweet sort of smile. "Thank you so much for this."
"You'll be paid something, so you can at least go to a Starbucks and get a coffee or something" Abigail points out in a tone that brooks no argument, or at least tries to. "I have to go, I was busy doing something, come back later, they'll take care of you and I'll make sure there's bedding." Redundancy seems to be the mode of the day right now.
Joy concedes. You win this round, Beauchamp. With a gracious nod of her head, she puts one hand on the door handle. "Again, thank you for this. You're brilliant." On that note, Joy lets herself back out and into the bar proper, leaving Abby to her work.