California Prescription


bella_icon.gif wendy_icon.gif

Scene Title California Prescription
Synopsis Bella stops by with the california prescription for relaxing and with an ulterior motive to get those notebooks. Also to check in on her friend. Kill two birds with one stone don't you know.
Date August 24, 2009

Wendy's Apartment

Worried sick takes on new meanings when you feel guilty about selling out your friend who was just kidnapped, while at the same time being concerned about the best way to get the information you sold out your friend for quickly without seeming weird so soon after the kidnapping and then wondering what sort of person you are that you not only even considered that last factor, but also aren't instinctively horrified by said consideration. Bella forwent self medication today, because her anxiety is so circuitous and thus would likely not be helped by her usual methods, but a secondary method rests in the clean, white plastic bag in her hand. She arrives at Wendy's apartment, smiling past the doorman who pretty much recognizes her even if he doesn't know her name. She buzzes up, then shifts from foot to sandaled foot with suppressed nerves.

"Hunter residence, Who is it" A man's voice answers the buzzer, not the expected female voice.

"It's Bella," Bella says, smiling even though she can't be seen. "Wendy, oh Wendy, let down your long hair?"

"Fish!" Can be heard over the intercom. "One of your Kooky friends is here!"

"Shut the fuck up John and just let her up. God you're such a fuckwit"

"You heard her. Allakhazam, open sesame" and thus, she can come up. Coming out the door when she gets up the appropriate floor is a tall guy, taller than Wendy and the same coloring and features. Siblings or relative of some nature. "She's kicking me out. Keep her safe i'll be back when she lets me" He gives a little two fingered salute slash tap from his forehead and lopes off towards the stairwell doors. The door open enough for Bella to come in at her leisure.

Oh, how embarrassing! Bella gives John a considering glance as they meet, trying to look /dignified/ instead of kooky, though trying to look dignified likely comes off as slightly kooky in and of itself, or at least somewhat cockeyed and/or silly. She presses past Wendy's ajar door, looking around, "I didn't know you had a sibling," she says, using her voice like social sonar, "I hear it's great, but I've never actually felt like I was missing much except childhood hair pullings."

"I got three of them. All annoying" She's off in her studio, lights on, a huuuuge chunk of plaster set up in a table and she's chunking away at it. White dust coating her smock as she works at something. "He'll be gone for a few hours. Parent's wouldn't leave the damned city unless I promised to let him stay for a few days. My disappearing act a few days ago didn't go over well" The chisel is tossed carelessly to the floor and she stalks out of the studio. The paper mask she was wearing soon following and she strips out of the smock. Below that is jeans and a tank top. "I got your messages"

"I'm just a spoiled only," Bella says, marco-poloing over to the studio. She lifts her hand to give Wendy a wave from the safety of the threshold. "Jesus Christ, but it's good to see you," she says, "If you need to be prescribed anything, just ask, I'm sure no ethics board in the world would countermand me." She lifts the bag. There are some objects in there, one almost definitely a champagne bottle, "Until then, I brought a few things." She winces at the mention of the messages, "I hope I didn't sound /too/ frantic by the end of them," she grins, "Just frantic enough."

"No worse than my parents and their messages. I'm gonna hook up with some good marijuana later. So far, I can't do shit about anything cause I got my parents hovering and John there." Wendy bounds over to the kitchen, starting to pull down glasses. "You seem to come with lots of goodies. But, speaking of goodies, pop that cork. I got five syringes for you" Bella knows what they are. She asked for them after all.

"As you can see, I'm out of my mind, riding the rollercoaster of Mania and withdrawal and chafing at the parental bits"

Say. No. More. Bella reaches into her vest pocket and fishes out a ziplock bag, wherein rest a quartet of hand rolled, taper-ended cigarettes. "I keep a residence in California precisely for this reason," she says, then tosses the bag towards Wendy, "Still, pays to be discreet." She sets the white bag down and fishes out a bottle of bubbly, a white box and a round tin. Each of them appear to have been relabeled, somewhat inexpertly, by Bella herself. Still, labors of love, however inexpert, are still labors of love.

"Light that fucker up!" and open some windows. There's a gesture for the woman to follow her and Wendy helps scoop stuff up, transfer it all down the hall to her own bedroom. Some place her brother won't go looking. "I have to go to Staten Island for the good shit. I trade for some Refrain, or at least I will be. Fuck, Bella. It was horrid" Wendy easily changes over to a different subject. Beneath some leather strips around her wrists are healing scratches and cuts, and if one looks close, studies her, she favors her left side, and the ballet slippers have medical tape just barely skimming the edges of their fabric, hiding her injuries from sight.

"I'm being cremated when I die. I'm not gonna lay in a fucking coffin again ever. Never ever" There's a visual shudder as they enter a really bright teal, yellow and black bedroom. Peacock feathers seems to be the decorating choice.

Nothing like a bedroom to tell you things about a person, though what it tells you is dependent a great deal on whether or not they're single, whether or not they usually sleep here, whether or not they have a study… so on and so on. Bella peers about. "I love your decoration. I wish I had a sense of personal style. I sort of just copy the pictures in the IKEA catalogs, it's sad," she pads her vest until she finds her lighter, tugging it out, "I figure, we smoke, then we drink, then we choose: either truffles or chocolate covered espresso beans. I'm still working a latte buzz, so I'm thinking," she taps the truffle box, on which are emblazoned the words 'Thank God You're Alive!' in block caps, taped to the lid.

"After all that," Bella says, "I'll hopefully be blitzed enough not to slip into 'therapist' mode."

"Go into therapist mode, and I will surely never let you up here again. When I need you as a therapist, i'll come to your office, wherever it is" A window is cracked open and comfortable chairs dragged over. Clothes are draped here and there, a walk in closet open and filled with various fabrics of outstanding hue's. She grabs the lighter from Bella and digs into the baggie of already rolled blunts. "But, feel free to ask questions, cause I know you already, you wanna know everything" There's bandaids on her hand, where the worst of the gouging was, other places have the pink shine of new skin.

"Ask me where it is, and I'll give you an address on Staten Island. I'll write your prescriptions, but even /I/ can't stomach the conflict of interest that'd come about from being your therapist," Bella says, popping open the truffle box and taking out the inventory sheet, "Do you like coconut creme, by the way? Because I could swear there are maybe five people in every ten thousand that actually /likes/ coconut creme," she looks up at Wendy, "And yes, I do want to know everything. But not without committing a felony with you first. Consider it a binding vow of silence."

"Gimme gimme" She's the small percentage. "I always stole it first from the candy boxes. Peter hated it, cause he loves them too" She doesn't hold her hand out though, instead taking the time to light up, prime the joint and take a few puffs of her own. Hold, hold, hold, exhale towards the window in a steady stream. "My fault we got taken. I knew the bar was just filled with Evolveds. I thought I'd be fine. But I wasn't. This group came in and I just stopped. I just went catatonic"

"It's never your fault that /you/ wer-," Bella begins, then claps a hand over her mouth, "No therapy, no therapy, no therapy. My turn, gimme gimme!" she reaches out and takes the joint, taking a single, long draw, closing her eyes and holding in before, directing a plume towards the same window. She taps her chest, a few stray clouds of smoke exiting from her nostrils, "Those fucking bastards," Humanis First, of course, "I hope Homeland Security drops them down a hole so deep they die of exposure before they hit the bottom."

"Totally my fault. I knew better. I was pushing my limits. But then, how was I know those assholes were there. They were going to use me. They were gonna off Pey on the 20th, and then.. what was the word they said. The canary to their goldmine. Pey threw me under the bus though. Coulda told them I like, manipulated water or something." There's a thread of resentment at that. She understood why the woman did it. Wendy's lips moue downwards in dislike.

"Fucking showed them though. Stupid idiots didn't even put guards on the fucking shipping container. And who in their right mind mounts an A/C INSIDE. I mean, come on"

"Whoever said that the forces of evil were smarter than the forces of good," Bella says, offering the joint back to Wendy, "Hopefully they'll secure a dirty bomb and then accidentally detonate it at their secret base in upstate New York or whatever," she plucks a chocolate mousse truffle from the box and neatly bisects it with her teeth.

She swallows, "So you actually /broke/ out. You escaped /yourself/? That's awesomely Shawshank. Though you did it much faster."

Careful fingers maneuver the joint out of Bella's hand and into hers. No talking for a few minutes as she inhales oh so deeply. "Sacrificed my laboutins for the shank and we gouged our hands for like a day and a half, getting the screws out of the mounts. We did it though. Living on diet coke and fuckign granola bars. Two of them tried to chase after us, we both got shot up but…" They made it. There's another deep pull on the joint and she passes it over, holding her breath.

Bella takes the joint, nodding her appreciation of the story, letting the information percolate through the smoke. She speaks with breath held, voice weird and gravelly, "You're some badass-" she gives a small cough, then exhales, "Some badass socialite ladies. Jesus, they must be so red in the face," she sniggers, "Do you have police protection or anything?" she glances around, suddenly, "Wait… are we being watched by forces unseen?"

"No. My dad put some people downstairs, Private security. They won't come up, they're not watching" Knowing why the doctor might get nervous. Not bad ass. Pey kept me from just.. curling in a corner I don't know how many times. Fuck I just.. that's a week I'd rather not have again. I mean, i never imagined that.. well no, i can imagine now how much of a fucking jewel I was to them. I can understand why now. Just.." Her hand comes out for the joint and to grab a caramel after consulting the decoder.

Bella maintains rotation, joint pinched low as it rapidly approached roachhood, "God, yeah. And if they'd found your /files/? The Hunter Guide? They'd have brought that double entendre to full realization," she furrows her brow over reddening eyes, "It feels like you should do something about that, your guide. I mean, no reason to think they'd know to search for it but… there must be some safe place to put them. Safer, at least."

The books. Shit. Wendy looks over to her closet and up top in the far corner. "I should burn them" She murmurs. "not that they know that I have them, yeah, just… " Shit. She'd never thought of that. It'd be like a .. who's who to assassinate. "Fuck…"

Bella lifts her hands, "No no!" she blurts, "No, don't burn them. I just… the scientist in me withers at the thought, don't… don't do that. Just… maybe…" she bites her lower lip, "Maybe I could take them, until the heat turns down a little? I have a safe for my sensitive documents, and I'm pretty sure no one knows we know each other," she grins, "I'm at least not as high profile as Ms. Whitney."

There's a frown, a little wrinkling of her brow. The books out of her reach. It's a little disconcerting. But here, if the Humanis first, god forbid, make their way up here. The last puffable bit of the blunt is passed over to Bella before she eases off from the chair and slinks over to her closet, Little stepping stool grabbed, she uses it to get up high in the closet. Things are moved, a panel depressed and a safe is seen. Thumb pressed to a little screen and a code punched in, The trio of notebooks are pulled out from among other things contained within the wall safe.

They're brought back to Bella and put carefully on the womans lap. "Just.. be careful with them please?"

This was too easy. Bella's stomach gives a nasty lurch and she keeps the cigarette end at arm's length so as not to present any risk to the binders. "Of course. That's… that's why I suggested it in the first place. This needs to be kept in the right hands. I'll return them… well… when- how long do you think I should store them? Not too long, they're yours! But long enough for us to know if Humanis First will be leaving you the fuck alone."

'I dunno. I'll let you know. Just, if I ask for the top one, can you bring it by? I don't think i'll be tacking anythign new one for a bit" well, that was a mood killer. Sorta. Wendy frowns and plucks up another chocolate, popping it in her mouth before reaching to pour herself a glass of bubbly. "Fuck, just.. fuck. Those.. assholes have changed my life'

Bella sets the binders side and pats them, as if to say 'it's okay, aunty Bella will take care of you'. "How?" she asks, "How has it changed? Has it really changed? Or does it just feel like it has?" Dangerously close to therapy, but she /is/ curious. Wendy seems so… resilient. So tough minded. What could change for her, that she couldn't change right back?

"They just have. it feels different. They were just stories in the paper and then.."She tilts the glass back, swallowing half the slender glass of liquid. "Makes me realize how much of a footnote I am in the world, if even that. Peyton Whitney and Companion. Like I wasn't important in the news" Wendy shakes her head. "Can't do anything right now, work wise. You think that something would come to me, but instead I'm just chunking away at plaster and hoping something forms from it. To gain some inspiration from what happened" And then she scowls. "And now I'm making it a therapy session. Sorry"

Bella scootches over, putting an arm around Wendy, giving her a small squeeze. She's not the touchiest of people, and there is something maybe a little tentative in the gesture, but that she makes it at all is a fairly big thing for Bella. "Would you rather the whole world learn your name, remember Wendy Hunter the… the victim?" she grins, "Okay, so Wendy Hunter the daring escapee is pretty cool, but still. That's… that thing… /fame/, the industry of /being famous/, that's not your thing. It's the plaster, the chisel, y'know? Wendy Hunter the artist, that's how you're known and how you should be known."

The squeeze helps, gives the rest of her courage that the join, chocolates and liquid haven't quite supplied. "Besides, I'm 28. I'm ancient in their eyes. Peyton's still a baby" She inhales deeply, turning to cough a bit then bob her head and lean on the window. "Bet the fuckers shit their pants when they saw us gone and nothing but my shoes and a broken A/C. That'll teach them to stick two skinny minny's in a crate with a hole big enough for them to get out"

"We've got staying power, you and me. We're gonna do things that people will talk about for, like, maybe a full decade after we die. /That's/ real," Bella says, grinning, "Footnote? We'll be in /bibliographies/! Freshmen art and psychology students will curse our names when they get points taken off for not following the formatting standards! Can Peyton say that?" She takes the champagne bottle by the neck, "Mind if I- ?" she makes a motion, suggesting that she wants to quench herself directly; manners out the window.

Wendy waves a hand. "I'll be known as one of the formost artists in the contribution to awareness of evolved. I signed up you know, to teach a class at that Suresh Center. I think they thought I was crazy for coming in late at night. But if the weathers good, I'll be hosting art classes outside. Maybe I can get my parents to pay for a little atrium like place on the grounds, so I can teach in there" She's musing now. "Fuck I want some refrain. That Logan guys touch didn't last long enough and only took the edge off"

"I have an office at the Suresh Center!" Bella exclaims. Let's not get into details about that, though, "When's your class? I could crash it and maybe start trying to oil pant some. I have- um- quite a ways to go, as you've seen for yourself."

"Mondays, wednesdays and Saturday's from eleven to two. Like, five people at a time. Mostly that's cause I expect they'll be evolved. I also offered to help with people who knew they were evolved, and not what they could do" Wendy makes a gentle grab for the bottle so that she can have some too. "Come on, lets light up another joint and watch a movie"

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