A Poor Choice Of Words

Participants:

abby_icon.gif coren2_icon.gif elisabeth_icon.gif leonard_icon.gif

Also featuring

azrael_icon.gif

Scene Title A Poor Choice Of Words
Synopsis Azrael reveals himself to Elisabeth and Coren. Things get complicated.
Date August 21, 2009

Old Lucy's

Old Lucy's has a vibrant and lively feel to it, from the dark wooden floors to the shady crimson 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 owner's office and just inside a stairwell that leads a apartment on the floor above the bar.


It had taken nearly four hours on the phone early Thursday morning to convince Cassidy to stay where she was despite the phone call he received after her departure. And while Cassidy had warned Coren not to take Liz up on her offer of drinking, it was instead Coren who made the offer. Why? Drunkenness is befitting to the whole crazed serial killer case. He enters with Liz and immediately finds a table, where he seats himself facing the bar. "Pick your poison, Liz. It's on me if Abby doesn't let us drink for free."

Elisabeth's wearing a pair of worn jeans and a leather jacket, her blonde hair loose. She's not looking in the least like a cop tonight. "Think I'll just stick to beer tonight," she tells him mildly. Slanting a glance around the bar, Elisabeth grimaces faintly. Her memories of the last time she came in here — arresting the last owner of the place — still don't sit all that well. But that's not what tonight's about. "How're you holding up with her so far away?" she asks as she pulls a chair out and drops into it.

Abigail's not quite working behind the bar. She's been busy working upstairs, carting in stuff from a moving van that's now departed. So she's taking a break jeans, Columbia University t-shirt, hair back in a ponytail. it's been a long time since an energy drink hit her lips but today, there's one. The long hours for school have paid off and finals are done. Forget that she's been freaking out and will continue freaking out until the scores are in, sure that she's failed.

But she comes from the back, carting two empty cardboard cups from a local coffee place to toss in the trash and get herself a redbull. She hasn't seen Coren or Elisabeth yet.

"It's like no longer being able to hear," Coren says, "Very, very disorienting." And lonely. He's been connected with her so deeply for what feels like a lifetime. No longer being able to sense her the way he usually does is indescribable. When one of the girls comes by, he says, "A basket of wings and a pitcher of beer." That's when he spots familiar blond hair, even if he hasn't seen her as a blonde that frequently. "Oi, Abigail," he calls.

Elisabeth smiles faintly. "You do realize, right, that coming here with me gives me license to ask all those questions that Cassidy's all atwitter about, right?" He knows her well enough by now to know she doesn't beat around the bush much. Her head swivels around as she pulls off her jacket and lets it drape over the chair behind her, and she offers a wave and a friendly smile toward Abby. "Well…. phooey. I guess she didn't need help moving."

She'll need help, it wasn't everything. She's taking her time. At the call from Coren above the sound of the music, Abigail lifts a hand, a motion for him to wait a moment, that she was coming over there while pouring herself a glass of seven-up as well. Instructions for the bar to no charge that table and the healthy looking blonde is wending her way through the crowd to come to stand beside the table. She's not radiating happiness, not with what she's back on, on top of her daily doses - but considering that she was helping the two cops that died at Columbia and she's upright and functioning, is a really good thing. "Evening, hey. Liz. Detective Doctor Shelb… Coren"

"I do. And you can ask all you like," he says with a bit of a playful grin before Abby gets within earshot. Then the greeting. That particular greeting almost makes Coren cringe given recent events, although he manages to stop himself from making any actual motions of the sort. "Abigail. Good to see you up and about." He kicks out a chair, "Please, please have a seat. You look like you could use a rest." It's also a distraction so Liz can't ask her questions. Sneaky.

Waving her hand at Abby, Elisabeth says easily, "Hey you. How'd finals go?" She grins faintly at Coren, knowing exactly what he's up to. Not like he's not totally obvious. "You all moved in or just starting?" she asks the other blonde instead of harassing him. She studies the face on Abby and debates asking, instead offering, "C'mon… take a load off, lady."

"Just starting. Once Leonard's off Sunday and after church I think we'll be settling in proper, wanna be out by the end of the month so the owner can rent the place" She'll take that seat. "I don't know how Finals went, Pretty sure that Thursdays was… " yeah, Thursday's is probably going to be her suckiest and she somewhat wishes they'd just postponed it instead of moving it to a different building. "We'll see. I don't want to have to repeat. But if goes well, in two weeks I need to start buying uniforms and supplies and starting in next borough over at the EMT school" See Coren, not all the way down to Columbia.

"Well you know, Liz and I could help. Hell, I alone can keep going for hours. Probably a good day, depending on how much there is," Coren says as he sees the pitcher of beer and two glasses delivered to the table. He pours into each glass and takes a long drink of his own. "From my experience, everyone always assumes they did worse than they actually did. So don't worry yourself too much until you've actually seen your grades."

There's a faint nod. The "Columbia 14" headline had Elisabeth scrambling for a phone to start making calls to the people who were originally part of it, to verify that they are all right — people like Helena, Trask, Leonard. Once she got through to some of them, she relaxed just a hair… but only because she needed time to think through the ramifications. After all — some folks don't believe in Fate, and yet… there are certain events… certain landmarks. Try as you may, they seem to occur because they must in some form. "He's right," she tells Abby sincerely. "I always felt like I completely bombed an exam and did fine — it was the ones I walked out of dead certain that I did well on that were the problem." She's grateful beyond words that Abby was nowhere near the Columbia thing. "Let me know whatever day you're ready for the heavy lifting. I'm always willing to lend a hand," she adds with a grin.

"Probably Sunday. For now I'm just moving over clothes and getting things settled. Izzy had some good furniture, better than mine. Keeping my bed though" She offers a tentative smile though. Last she knew, she and Shelby were on thin ice. It seems to have changed though. "Detective Shelby will get to see my other tattoo's" Because there too, the last time he saw, she had only one. "Just coming in for a drink after work?"

More like coming in to get completely shit-faced. "Oh, you have more tattoos, do you?" Coren asks with a faint hint of amusement. He points a finger at Liz, "It's so true that. Always the ones you thought you aced that you should worry about." He settles his hand back on his beer. "A single drink? No." Elisabeth wasn't the only one who nearly freaked at the whole Columbia 14 thing. Especially after Abby went to Staten Island and got shot by the man who had abducted her. That never did sit well with him, but he can only stay mad at Abby for so long. Seriously, look at that face.

There's a cheeky grin at Abby and her tats. "Sheesh… it's becoming the in thing to decorate one's body with artistic endeavors," she comments with a grin. "But it's gotta be because of the best tattoo artist ever." Liz winks at Abby. "Now we just gotta convince Cassidy. Shelby's partner. She's out of town and he's at loose ends, so I promised her I'd keep him out of trouble," she tells her friend. "Or rather… that I'd make sure he got home in one piece after he gets royally shit-faced."

'Worst, I got beds upstairs' Abigail points out. "not yet occupied, so feel free to get drunk here, no one will complain and the girls will watch out for you" More tattoo's indeed. "Fides est lux lucis ut rector vos per obscurum is one and I have another that covers most of my back. I keep em covered when I can. They weren't as bad as I thought it would be to get one. The third one just sorta… happened…" While drunk, in her underwear/PJ's at the tattooist place and coddling a fractured wrist. Yup, not gonna say that. Or the blue hair. Liz saw the blue hair. "So, cats away, mice will play?"

Coren actually seems to chew on that for a moment, and can actually be heard whispering the Latin words under his breath. "That's what, 'faith is the light to guide you through the darkness' or some such, right?" He shrugs and takes a long drink of his beer, refilling his glass from the pitcher. "I'm clearly not drunk enough yet if I can ponder the meaning of a Latin phrase." He glances at his watch, noting it's near the turn of the hour, and looks towards the bar and the kitchen, "I wonder what happened to our basket of chicken wings."

"I don't know what that means." And then Coren translates, and Elisabeth's smile turns soft, thinking of the angelic fairy on her own shoulder. "I really like that, Abby. But I don't think I'd get the full back one, as cool as that sounds. I want to see it! Got the two I wanted done, each with their reasons," Elisabeth grins at Abby. "I don't think I want to be a walking mural, even if she can remove them at a moment's notice." She shrugs slightly at the playing question and slants a look at Coren, picking her beer to sip it. "Dunno," she replies mildly. "Maybe they're backed up." She glaces toward the kitchen, not terribly concerned.

Annnnd Liz is talking about Xiulan's ability. One that last she knew, Xiulan didn't like it being spread about what she could do. "Faith is the light that guides you through the dark" Abigail nods. "That's it. I'll show you them some day Liz. Right now, I'm going to go check on your chicken and see about making sure you both stay topped up" Abigail sets down her redbull and coke, easing up from the chair so she can wade back through the crowd. Getting time to dance on the bar again soon.

Coren can only tilt his head at Elisabeth's comment, not realizing that she's talking about an evolved tattoo artist. "I'm…" he starts to say, but then he just shrugs as Abby says she'll go and check on their chicken. "Please and thank you, luv." He takes another drink of his beer and then stares long and hard at Liz. "All right. I'll answer you one question, and it better be a good one."

Without further comment on the tattoo artist and her abilities, Elisabeth salutes Abby with a small smile and then turns her attention to the man in front of her. Studying Coren, she considers the questions she could lob at him. And the one that she chooses to ask is perhaps not the one he was expecting. "Are you going to let her miss out on all those things she wants out of life because you're both afraid of hurting each other?" He has to know what Cassidy thinks and feels and wants or doesn't — and that's not her business. She just wants to know if he's going to let their shared partner assume that she will never have those things that she always wanted because of this empathic bond.

It definitely was not the question he was expecting. It's also not a question he has given much thought to, at least not recently. He had given it a lot of thought when he felt it was more relevant. As of late, he hasn't had much time to think about it. Coren chuckles and shakes his head before taking another drink of his beer. "I admit I wasn't expecting you to ask that particular question. In short: of course not. I told her we'd figure things out. Just because we haven't yet doesn't mean we won't. This situation isn't exactly a simple one."

There's a sly smile and Elisabeth prompts, "Annnnd…. have you figured out yet how you feel about being sucked into this?" She sips from her beer, toying with the glass as she watches him. "Can't be easy or fun to be hip-deep in someone else's emotions, much less … someone you're not — at least currently — involved with."

The music in Old Lucy's turns up five notches as it's want to do when it's that time of the hour.

I wanna hold em like they do in Texas Plays
Fold em let em hit me raise it baby stay with me, I love it
Luck and intuition play the cards with Spades to start
And after he's been hooked I'll play the one that's on his heart.

The other bartenders all get up on the bar, well not all of them, just two. Hands on the bar that runs parallel to the real bar, they prance back and forth swinging a hip, dipping down, shaking their ass to the music.

A third figure joins them. One that has never graced that bar, save that one night that Izzy auctioned off her kiss. Abigail, in her jeans and t-shirt. Bar apron around her hips and sneakers moving along the steel top of the counter. There's a spin, hands sliding down her thighs as she shimmies down with the other to the Lady Gaga tune before rocking a hip off to the side. The former healer looks over at Coren and gives a wink and there's a smirk before she turns, giving her back and rear to the crowd, getting down with the girls on the bar, snatching up a tequila bottle and taking a long.. long… long gulp before she goes down on her knees and is a half seductive crawl, makes her way to Leo with an offer of the drink to him instead of the whiskey.

P-p-p-poker face, p-p-poker face
(mum mum mum mah)
P-p-p-poker face, p-p-poker face
(mum mum mum mah)

I wanna roll with him a hard pair we will be
A little gambling is fun when you're with me
Russian roulette is not the same without a gun
And baby when it's love, if its not rough it isn't fun

And the music kicks it up a few notches as Coren lets out a laugh. "I wouldn't say it's not fun, but yes, it's definitely not that easy, but …" And his voice trails off. Because face it, he knows Abby enough to know that she does not do that. He points behind Liz towards the bar, "I think we've just entered the twilight zone." The wink and smirk send a chill right up his spine. It's the same smirk he recalled Megan Manning giving Cassidy and Liz. And then alcohol. Even when she was in a bad state and he offered her alcohol, she didn't take it. Certainly she's not taken to such activities. She can't have changed that much. "That's not Abigail," he says, knocking the pitcher and his glass of beer over as he moves very hastily towards the bar, spinning around the back to the side that customers are just not allowed to go and quite literally grabs Brenda by the arm, "Get everyone out of here. NOW."

It is with utter shock that Elisabeth stares at the bar, her glass of beer arrested halfway to her lips as she stares. Abby never dances on the bar. In point of fact, it was something Elisabeth asked her about at one point — if she was going to get up there with the other girls, and she was politely informed 'when hell freezes over' (in much more polite terms). That's not… what?? It takes a long moment for Elisabeth's brain to catch up with Coren's order, and her eyes go wide. Slamming her glass to the table, Elisabeth's on her feet leaving her jacket behind at the table. Sure, it flashes the pistol she's wearing in the small of her back, but hey — she's a cop. She heads for Abby and Leo, murmuring to Leo, "She's possessed or something. Help me get her down. Leo…. be careful, it's a serial killer!" She doesn't know if Abby told him, but… well, she hopes the man trusts her enough to take her word.

That's okay. Leo is here to help. He simply bodily lifts Abby from the bar, holding her up. Like she's suddenly turned into Tinkerbell.

Brenda looks confused at Coren, but, when a detective says get everyone out of the bar. There's a sharp whistle, two fingers plunged into her mouth to make the sound and it garners peoples attention and the bouncers start gathering people and pushing them out the door, finished drinks or not. The music abruptly stops when Brenda presses a button behind the bar and looks over towards Abby.

"Put. Me. Down." It's a command, all right, and it's not Abby's usual charming accent, either, but a somewhat deeper female voice. To prove just why that command should be obeyed, the kitchen knife, which was hiding in the bar apron, is withdrawn and held taught against Abigail's precious jugular vein. Her own hand is holding herself at knife-point. "I should not have to impress upon you just why you should obey me."

Coren saw the glint of silver, too. Alas, his cry of "No!" is a tad too late. Instead, he comes around and watches as Abby places a knife to her own neck. "Leo, is it, put her down. Back on the bar real slow. And don't give Azrael here any reason to kill her." He looks pale at the mere idea of what Azrael might do. "It wouldn't be the first time."

Elisabeth hasn't got time to think oh my fucking GOD with blue eyes caught on Abby's face. She's frozen there, uncertain what actions to take, and she puts her hands up and backs a step or two away. "What is it that you want?" she asks quietly, not attempting to use her ability at all to manipulate the entity looking at her through Abigail's eyes.

Oh, Jesus. There's just one thing, though. Leo puts Abby back down, with the gentleness of a man hiding an easter egg. But then he freezes the body entirely, holding that arm in place. Liz has asked the relevant question.

Abigail's blue eyes glare coldly at Leonard. "If you don't start playing by the rules, I'll have to punish you." The eyes move to Elisabeth, no longer entertained by Leonard, though he does hiss at the man, "Release me." If it were possible, there'd be a tilt of the head at Elisabeth. "What do I want?" There's a laugh that is terribly uncharacteristic of Abigail and sounds just wrong coming from her. "To play. It's terribly amusing, you know." Then lower, "It's fun."

The mere words are horrifying to hear for Coren, and to watch as the body of Abigail is violated in such a manner makes his heart actually skip a beat. He very nearly says 'release her', but the words catch in his throat and he says nothing. See Liz? This is what happens when emotions and Coren mix.

A clench of her jaw, pure raw terror for Abby holding her immobile, and Elisabeth says quietly, "I see." And she does. A complete psychopath on top of everything else. NOt that we didn't already know that, but it's truly horrifying right now. "The game is the whole point of it all." She pauses, pretending to consider. "I have a feeling that killing Abby's not really the goal here. It's only worth playing if we're paying attention. You've got our attention now, so…. what in this particular instance do you want?"

"Okay, okay," Leo says, backing off the power for now. Who knows, this thing might be immune. "Listen, if you need someone to play with, I'm here. Like…pick on your own size…"

"Is that an invitation?" Azigail asks mockingly as she ditches the bar apron and with the newfound freedom, digs the knife through the t-shirt she wears, slowly removing it. She tilts her head at Elisabeth, "You know, a little song, a little dance…. I'd ask for Agent Shelby's head on a lance, but that's not really possible as he's not Agent Shelby anymore. A terrible shame. Just couldn't let it go, could you old man?" Bra-straps are cut off.

"That's enough!" The words shoot out of Coren before he can stop himself and he hastily climbs onto the bar top, coming face to face with Azrael-Abby. "This has gone far enough, you sick son of a bitch. I'll do anything, just stop this."

Even as the person on the other end talks, Elisabeth is taking mental notes. Because as Bennet suggested and Elisabeth suspected…. in some part, it is about Shelby. "Well, by all means…. give us a little song and dance," Elisabeth invites. And then Coren jumps and Liz bites her lip, hoping he's doing the right thing.

Leonard lifts his hands, in a gesture of placation. "Just…..whatever it takes. Don't hurt Abby, she doesn't deserve it."

Azigail leans towards Detective Shelby, bra falling off from its lack of straps, knife held up at the aged man. "A poor choice of words." She then takes a step back and, after a cruel grin, takes a bow. For a moment, Abigail's body goes limp, as though unconscious. The knife falls from her slack hand and clatters on the bar. For most intents and purposes, Abby's mind very much was unconscious, although it now comes to.

Coren catches Abigail with his jacket, covering her with it now that her t-shirt and bra are, well, not particularly useful. He is thanking God for the insight to have Brenda clear the bar, and at the same time hitting himself mentally, over and over, for what he said. After the fact, they definitely sound like an incredibly bad choice of words.

As soon as she crumples, Elisabeth moves toward Abby as well, but … the blonde is encased in Coren's arms and Leo's there to help. She can only hover worriedly. "Please, God, tell me she's okay," is all Liz says.

One minute she was heading back to check in on Coren and Elisabeth's food and the next she's.. Abigail blinks up at the ceiling, Coren in her view. Confusion reigns supreme on the Christian blonde's face. Especially when there's bartenders peeking in from the back room, there's no customers and… Elisabeth and Leonard are there, looking at her.

"Where's my clothes?" It's high and reedy her voice, back to it's southern drawl. "Where's my shirt.. Detective Doctor Shelby and why are you asking god if I'm okay?" Panic is starting to set in. "Leo?"

"I'm here, angel, I'm here," Leo assures her. "Honey, we had an incident. You literally weren't yourself. Do you remember anything?" His brows furrowed with worry. He angles his back to conceal her from the other patrons.

Coren heaves a sigh. Relief though he has, he is now concerned by all the thoughts running through his head about the case. Azrael can possess people. It certainly explains a lot, and introduces some very, very bad variable to the whole equation.

His eyes look down, weary and worn but gentle and caring, at Abby. "Don't worry luv. The worst is over," he says, lifting Abby up and sliding off the bar. He tips his head to gesture for Leonard to help them get Abby onto a chair at one of the tables. "Do you have any change of clothes here?" he asks quietly.

"Locker. Work clothes" the jacket is pulled tight around her, arms up, looking to Leonard. Possessed. "I was going to the back, checking on their food and then.. and then the Detective was holding me…" Oh god in heaven. "You saw everything. Oh heavenly father you saw my lady bits"

"Not all of 'em!" Leo hastens to assure her. "Listen, come with me, we'll get you fixed up. 'scuse us," he says to Coren, trying to usher Abby into the back.

Coren nods to them. "Take care of her. If either of you act strangely, call us. Abby can give you our numbers."

Lady bits…. It's not like they're something he hasn't seen before.

"Why do I taste tequila" She lets Leo get her up and usher her around the bar, face snapping towards Coren at his caution of acting funny. Her fingers tighten around Leonard's arm. "Oh god. It was him wasn't it. The man Liz warned me about…"

Leonard looks over his shoulder. "I will," he says, quietly, and then he peers at Abby. "Who is this?"

Coren does not reply with anything other than a solemn nod, after which he takes that bottle of tequila, the one the contents of which are tasted by Abby, and starts to drink from it as he takes a seat at the bar near Liz. Once Leonard and Abby have gone into the back, he shakes his head and then lowers it onto the bar. "There's not enough alcohol in here to get me drunk enough for this."


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