Participants:
| Scene Title | Bitchitude |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | "Kyle" and "Kim" meet "Jessica". A missing man is asked about, with lies and cover-ups going on all around. |
| Date | September 4, 2008 |
Central Park has been, and remains, a key attraction in New York City, both for tourists and local residents. Though slightly smaller, approximately 100 acres at its southern end scarred by and still recovering from the explosion, the vast northern regions of the park remain intact.
An array of paths and tracks wind their way through stands of trees and swathes of grass, frequented by joggers, bikers, dog-walkers, and horsemen alike. Flowerbeds, tended gardens, and sheltered conservatories provide a wide array of colorful plants; the sheer size of the park, along with a designated wildlife sanctuary add a wide variety of fauna to the park's visitor list. Several ponds and lakes, as well as the massive Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir, break up the expanses of green and growing things. There are roads, for those who prefer to drive through; numerous playgrounds for children dot the landscape.
Many are the people who come to the Park - painters, birdwatchers, musicians, and rock climbers. Others come for the shows; the New York Shakespeare Festival at the Delacorte Theater, the annual outdoor concert of the New York Philharmonic on the Great Lawn, the summer performances of the Metropolitan Opera, and many other smaller performing groups besides. They come to ice-skate on the rink, to ride on the Central Park Carousel, to view the many, many statues scattered about the park.
Some of the southern end of the park remains buried beneath rubble. Some of it still looks worn and torn, struggling to come back from the edge of destruction despite everything the crews of landscapers can do. The Wollman Rink has not been rebuilt; the Central Park Wildlife Center remains very much a work in progress, but is not wholly a loss. Someday, this portion of Central Park just might be restored fully to its prior state.
Clear, warm…it's a nice New York summer night. For the blonde sitting there in tanktop and jeans, it's a good place to plan. She's sitting on a park bench, and there's a pad of yellow lined paper in her lap. She idly taps a pencil on it, occasionally making notes on something.
It’s a fine night indeed - one that makes the thought of staying enclosed by walls completely undesirable, even if Elle weren’t here on Company business. The shorter blonde is dressed in a trim black blazer and tight jeans, the rounded arc of a sand-gray shirt’s neckline visible between the jacket’s open lapels. The click of dark heels announces her presence as she nears Jessica’s bench, as well as her jaunty and somewhat brisk gait. Besides those two women, the path is relatively clear of people, and so Elle’s approach must be intentional - especially since both her hands occupy themselves by plunging into a pocket for something as she nears. “Hiii. Could I bother you for a second?”
She looks up. The clock of heels is enough to announce Elle's presence as she gets closer, and she tenses a bit when it becomes more obvious that Elle is going in her pocket for something. She doesn't stand, but she puts herself in a ready position to. "Can I help you?"
Jessica can relax; it’s something small she’s rifling for, and not anything larger or intimidating. The ‘something’ turns out to be a rectangular, wallet-sized photo that sits neatly in the palm of Elle’s hand as she lets the weak glow of daylight fall on it. “Seen this guy around anywhere?” It’s a light-haired man, perhaps in his early thirties. Perhaps she’s seen him clubbing somewhere, but he’s made a habit of shadowing Central Park as well.
Jessica looks to the picture. "Can't say that I have." And not sure she would say if she had. "You look a little young to be a cop." And a little short.
Pfff. Who you calling short. “I’m not here as a cop,” Elle says with a slight smirk. Though she doesn’t pocket the photograph, she allows her fingers to close over it a little as though she’s about to put it away. “Let’s just say I /lost/ him, and I’m anxious to get him back.”
The taller blonde smiles back. "Well, I'm not usually much in the Good Samaritan line of work. You consider hiring a private eye? Usually the best choice if you've got a boyfriend stepping out on you." Which is her first assumption.
Even though much of the city still bears the scars of the bomb, Bryan still prefers to walk about, especially on a night as nice as this one. He's dressed down in a polo, brown leather jacket, and jeans. As his feet wander, so do Bryan's eyes, and soon enough they find Elle with the taller blonde. He doesn't recognize Niki, but Elle is someone he recognizes right off.
Bryan realigns his steps to move toward the two women, lifting a hand to pull the buds of his mp3 player from his ears. "Kim, what are you doing out here this late?" Central Park has never been a 'safe' place after dark, after all.
It’s a perfectly reasonable assumption, given the statement. “I didn’t ask for your help in finding him. I just need to know where he is.” The photographic rectangle is wiggled tantalizingly. If Jessica wants to share any last-second flashes of recognition, even vaguely, now is the time to point them out. Elle turns sharply when the name is spoken, and perhaps it’s understandable that she shoots her fellow Agent a not-so-gracious look. “/Kyle/. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
Jessica looks back at Elle…errr…Kim. "Sorry, I really haven't. I'm usually not much in the park. But I can keep an eye out; tell him you're looking for him. Or do you not want him to know." She's not much thinking about her yellow notepad, but if either Agent sees it, it's a hit in planning. Angles of fire and approach and the like.
Lucky for The Company that it is part of Bryan's job to be vigilant as well as stealthy. "Neither was I expecting you. You know better than to come out here alone, pretty as you are." He glances to Jessica and smiles a cordial but tight-lipped smile. He glances at the notepad, squinting as he tries to make out what's written for a moment while still trying to remain casual enough, then up at the lamps that line the path before looking to the older blonde again. "Not much to see by, and glasses aren't exactly any cheaper than they ever were."
“He hangs around Rapture more than here, if you club or whatever. And yeah. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go mouthing off to him about it.” So why isn’t she asking around there? One phrase: tipoff, though Elle actually /might/ pay a visit there later. It takes her a moment to notice what Bryan is trying to see.
Jessica nods. "Sure. Got a phone number or something to call you at if I happen to get lucky and wander across one guy in the entirety of New York City?"
Bryan reaches over to lightly touch Elle's shoulder in support as he looks at the older blonde on the bench, just in case she took offense to Jessica's choice of words. He doesn't say anything thought, but regards her with a curious, searching sort of stare.
Elle gives Jessica an odd look, though it transforms into a casually acknowledging one as she glances over her shoulder at Bryan. And back again. “I only asked if you’d seen him before. Don’t get smart.” Nonetheless, she unhooks a purse off her shoulder to dig around for a pen before realizing that /dur/, the other woman already has one. “…could I?”
Jessica flicks a glance to her pad, and then flips over the top sheet, concealing what had been there. She pulls out a free piece of yellow lined paper from the middle of the pad, and hands it over, along with her pen. "Be my guest."
Bryan watches the exchange, then smiles. "Kimmy, I'm /not/ giving you my back," he chuckles before looking back to Jesscia and extending a hand. "Do you mind?" he asks nicely enough, nodding toward the pad.
The sheaf of paper is taken, though Elle frowns when it’s apparent the pad isn’t going to be handed over as well. She compensates by setting the loose sheet down on the bench beside Jessica, where she scrawls out a number made scratchy by the uneven slat beneath. “Cell. Here.” Rudely abrupt gesture to hand it over.
Jessica, of course, does NOT hand over the pad. "Sorry. Personal notes and info." she declines. She lets Elle jot down the number on the bench, and takes it, looking amused at the rude thrust of number. "You're kind of a bitch." she says, matter-of-factly. "I like that." But she takes it, and folds it up, putting it in her pocket.
The lone male presence snorts before giving Elle's shoulder a rub. "Come on, kid," he says with a gruff sigh. "Let's get you out of here." Anywhere away from Jessica - anywhere they can talk.
/Well/. The conversation had been proceeding nicely right until then. “Hey, now. Watch who you’re calling what,” Elle answers in a warning tone, curling her fingers inwards as though closing them on some invisible ball. Jessica wouldn’t recognize the motion, but Bryan definitely would – and it’s a good he pulls her back to reality with his touch. With a deeply disgruntled look at the sitting woman, she drops her hand and turns to leave, letting her question go unasked for now. Yeah. Let’s get out of here.
True enough; Jessica has no clue what the motion means. And in addition, she appreciates proper bitchitude. She shrugs a little. "I'm a bitch too. Better than being a doormat." But Kyle is trying to get Kim out of there, and she has no reason to keep them. "Good luck finding your guy."
 September 4th: I Never Forget |
Previously in this storyline… Next in this storyline… |
 September 4th: Let's Play a Game |