Cranberry Substitute


alia_icon.gif alistair_icon.gif colette_icon.gif doyle_icon.gif hokuto_icon.gif kaylee2_icon.gif lola2_icon.gif megan_icon.gif scott_icon.gif

Scene Title Cranberry Substitute
Synopsis The Ferrymen gather together to try and make life a little easier on the holidays for the people of Roosevelt Island.
Date November 26, 2009

Summer Meadows, Roosevelt Island

For all the Roosevelt Island has been recovering since the bomb, it is in a way like a microcosm of New York City's most unfortunate series of circumstances. Part Manhattan, Part Staten Island, this tiny slice of New York, wedged between Manhattan and Queens, plays out the grater drama of the city at large in its narrow confines. Summer Meadows, in a way, is a part of that grand microcosm.

"Made with… what the hell is Cranberry Substitute?" Seated on the tailgate of a forest green pickup truck, a young, dark-haired girl dressed in a black denim jacket and matching pants rotates a can in one hand. Her green eyes alight to a taller, older, and more gruff looking individual standing at her side.

"It's food," comes the murmured response from Scott Harkness, one of the directors of the clandestine network known as the Ferrymen. "Now shut your yap and go help Stacy." Snatching the can from Colette, Scott offers one raised brow to her as the teen grimaces awkwardly and hops down from the tailgate, folding gloved hands behind her head as she walks backwards away from the truck.

Here on the street outside of the Summer Meadows development, a meals on wheels truck and two pickup trucks have come to deliver a substitute for Thanksgiving to the unfortunate of Roosevelt Island. Despite having a meager population, Summer Meadows is one of the poorest regions of the island, and the turnout for the volunteer effort on the receiving end has been decidedly prolific. Residents from all across the tiny island have come for the promise of free hot meals and maybe a frozen turkey while there's still some left.

Lines of tired, cold and weary residents stand outside of the hot food truck, staffed discretely by a young redhead operator of the Ferrymen, Stacy Abernathy. It's here that one of the Ferrymen's younger operatives, Colette Nichols, has come to lend a hand, serving out a makeshift holiday dinner for those who can't manage it for themselves.

Over at the pickup trucks, other Ferrymen work on handing out whatever they can to the needy. Some have donated winter clothing, others canned or frozen foods, and as the afternoon turned into evening, it was clear people from Queens were making the walk across the Roosevelt Island bridge to try and get in on the charity.

But one good turn deserves another, and one man's charity drive soon becomes the island's. Residents with something to offer have shown up as well, most notably a small white Volkswagen sedan parked opposite of the trucks, where local bookstore owner and eccentric Hokuto Ichihara has set up from the back of her car, offering much of the same that the Ferrymen have.

But there's many mouths to feed, and many spirits to raise, and only so many hands to do it with.

Alia arrives as is her custom, on a skateboard. What is different tonight is the wagon behind her, filled with canned goods and other donations gathered on short notice from her coworkers from the Suresh Center, a backpack on her back, and in another wagon behind the first one, a set of batteries, inverters, lights, and an honest to god space heater.

The young woman pauses a moment, then glides up to the food truck, skidding her board to a halt. She smiles wordlessly as she leaves the first red wagon in the care of those handing out food, and takes the second one a short distance onward and begins setting up the lights and the heater… and from her backpack, speakers, and a laptop… shortly, there is a sound that likely hasn't been heard in ages within the community, but the sound of holiday music being played in the open at night.

Alistair makes his way from one of the trucks, instructing some of the volunteers in how to set up care packages out of the bulk supplies they have. "If we can keep this organized, we could ensure that there's enough for everybody." Bluetooth earpiece permanently stuck to his ear, in case a call comes in, or is needed. He's wearing his usual jeans and boots, black cloth duster secured tightly against the chill of the late autumn evening. He makes his way over to Scott.. "Quite the turnout we have… Do you think we'll be able to deliver? I've got about three more box trucks coming, but that's about it." He sighs, sadly, always wishing to do more then they've been able to.

Though her usual role within the Ferry is medical in nature, there are times when Megan Young also pinch hits in a variety of other roles — soldier, mother-figure, and in this case, cook and general dogsbody. The nurse is dressed for the chill weather in jeans, sturdy boots that may in fact be well-broken-in military combat boots, and a lined denim jacket. Her copper hair is one of the brighter beacons of this gray day. As she hauls a crate full of canned vegetables off the back of the truck near the two men who lead the Ferry, she murmurs, "We're going to have to stretch it a little, I think." She doesn't want anyone to hear her say it — cuz they sure as hell packed a lot of food. "I don't want to short-shrift anyone in the line, Scott, but we gambled on a certain number coming from the neighborhood — we've got people crossing the bridge because they're hearing about it from friends. Some stretching we can accomodate, but … it's going to be tight if we get too many more than we counted on."

The stain-spotted apron draped over Eric Doyle's rounded belly reads KISS THE COOK in red letters surrounded by hearts, just barely reaching to his knees. The puppeteer's taking a break from helping out with the hot food truck to fill his own belly (as if he needs it), a bowl of some sort of soup cradled in hand as he spoons through it, his gaze hooded as he keeps to himself - as usual, socialization with people above the age of fifteen is fairly rare for the reclusive mammoth of a man.

There's a seemingly gruff but in all truths good-natured shrug that comes from Scott at the question, his eyes surveying the crowd in the dim light remaining from the skies above. "It's a bit bigger than Grace expected, yeah. At least the locals are finally coming out of the woodwork, but you're right, it's probably not going to be enough. If half of these meal trucks weren't still patrolling Staten we could probably have done more…" Nothing is ever, truly, good enough for Scott. It likely explains his typically dour mood.

"Hey…" The voices come from behind and to the side of Doyle, a small and mousy voice of a young girl, familiar though. "I didn't think I'd see you here again." Dusting off her hands after having delivered a stack of frozen meals to the hot food truck, Colette sidles out from behind Doyle's broad silhouette and offers him a side-long look with those pale green eyes. "Is your friend here?" She has to mean Kaylee, not Brennan, unless of course Colette is looking for a black eye.

Over by where the makeshift sound booth has been set up, an equally familiar voice finds greeting with Alia. "Well, if it isn't my internet technician!" Chirping and impish in tone, the voice of Hokuto Ichihara is easy to recognize among the sounds of holiday music and the noise of those gathered. Bundled up in a black faux-fur jacket, the bookseller of Roosevelt Island steps alongside the younger woman, her dark eyes scanning the equipment set up. "It's been a while…"

Alistair nods to Scott. "I'll see if I can pull something off. I can grab a couple trucks, but the supplies may take me a while." Before walking off to make a few calls, he turns and smiles to Megan. "Nice seeing you again. Let's see if I can perform a few miracles."

Megan grins at Alistair. "You too. Let's see whatcha got, logistics boy," she quips with a wink. She heads for the truck with her crate and starts helping get the cans out and opened so they vegetables can be put in the warming pans. She then turns her hand to serving.

At the voice from behind where he's seated, Doyle's shoulders hunch up a bit for a half-second of tension, and then turns to look back at the teenager; a faint smile curving wan to his lips, a hand raising to wave the spoon vaguely at her in greeting. "Hey. Uh.. Kaylee? No, she's not here today," he admits, "I'm, I'm not sure where she went off to, honestly. Sorry."

Clearly assuming that's who Colette was looking for, he then delves the spoon back down into his shallow soup, shoulders dropping as a sigh whispers itself through his teeth.

There's a reluctant laugh from Scott as he shakes his head slowly and gives a side-long stare to Alistair, leaning towards Megan. Under one of Scott's arms, he offers out a five dollar bill. "Five bucks says one of those calls is to a lady-friend of his instead." Dark brows lift up, and Scott's lips curl back into a smirk. "He'll take five minutes to get another truck here, and five minutes talking up some bird he met the other night."

"Her name's Kaylee…" Colette murmurs, one fingerless gloved hand brushing over her chin. "M'sorry about how the Doc reacted yesterday. He— he's a really good guy, I think he was just…" The teen shakes her head, biting down gently on her lower lip. "Name's Colette, by the way." One of those gloved hands is offered out to Doyle. "Seen you 'round at McRae's place a bunch of times, but I was always being bossed around by taskmaster over there." She offers a teasing wink and a nod of her head towards Scott.

"Oh, the shop's doing well enough. My new front desk clerk is panning out well enough, even if he is skittish as an alleycat at times. I swear something has him spooked…" Rolling her shoulders, Hokuto looks up towards the darkened skies under the glow of street lamps as they flicker on one by one. "I never thought anyone would give two shakes about this neighborhood after what happened…" Her eyes settle on Manhattan's distant and ragged skyline. "It's good to know some people still have room in their hearts for people other than themselves." Despite her upbeat mood, Hokuto looks outwardsly in poor condition. Dark circles hang under her eyes, and her posture is less bouncy than usual, more drawn out and tired than the last time Alia saw her at the beginning of autumn. She sighs, a long and tired one that causes a puff of breath to be visible in the chill air. "What have you been doing with yourself?"

The lines move briskly from the meal wagon, some people bringing their Thanksgiving dinners back into the residences inside of the run down development beyond that low brick wall. Some have consigned themselves to simply eating on the sidewalk, huddled up in hunched posture to stave off the cold around them. It's a humbling sight, knowing that for all the size and breadth the Ferrymen have, they can't take care of everyone.

Some of the worst times in Lola's life were on Staten Island, and yet the girl can't help but gravitate back there when the occasion calls for it. Here on the tiny island, though, things seem a little easier to handle. Sure, being a Cajun, Lola always celebrated Thanksgiving a little different - read 'crawfish' - but they celebrated it none the less. Now, her father and brother both think she is dead. Cardinal is out of town. She really has…nowhere else to go. So like many other lost souls, she meanders through the dinner-wagon-situation here. She doesn't take anything, she just seems to be loitering with her hood up. Rather creepy, even among a bunch of creepers.

Alia frowns slightly as she tries to put the thoughts into words. "… working." She doesn't say on what. She sighs. "You look… troubled." She finally says as she digs into her backpack, and removes a insulated cup… and a thermos. A moment later she has a cup of cocoa has been poured, and put in Hokuto's hands.

Snorting a laugh at Scott, Megan plucked that five bucks out of his hands and muttered, "You're on!" as she passed him.

Now, as she hands out plates laden with turkey and gravy, potatoes or yams, stuffing, green beans, rolls, and cranberry sauce — comfort foods for so many people — Megan also spends a little time talking with each person who comes by her. Their grateful smiles are worth the time and effort the redhead will put in today. "Harkness, I could use an extra set of hands over here," she hollers at the man perched on the back end of the truck. Cuz you know — it's a volunteer effort, and he's dorking around over there! She seems absolutely immune to whatever intimidation factor Scott Harkness may have going for him.

She loads up a plate and passes it to a woman who is juggling two kids, and then loads up two more plates for the kids — those she shoves into Scott's hands, telling him, "Find 'em a place." And then she fixes one and hands it to Lola, the next person in her line of people. The food lines are actually moving like a well-oiled assemblyline — some of the people in here have clearly done this kind of work before.

Alistair makes his way back. "I freed up a truck… and I know this Agro. She'd been working on a crop for a couple days.. Everything will be fresh, though.. No way to preserve them with no notice." he says.. "That's all I can get for now.. Maybe more in another week or two.." He shrugs, disappointed in himself. He takes off his duster and rolls up his sleeves, jumping in on the food truck, helping to serve. The people should be thankful he's not cooking.

"Jay… oh, to hell with it," Doyle's breath spills out of him in a weary sigh, his head shaking slowly from one side to the other before he turns around with a bit of a shuffle on his backside to offer that wan smile unto Colette once more, "Doyle— Eric Doyle. Nobody at McRae's remembers to call me by my alias anyway. The Doc…" His expression darkens, his brow furrowing, gaze dropping down to the soup he's cradling, stirring the spoon through the depths, "…he blames us for the riot. Thinks we caused it, I think. We didn't have anything to do with it." His tone turning a bit petulant and angry at the last.

Laughing to himself, Scott shakes his head and follows after Megan with his arms still folded. "You and Grace," he admits with a good natured grumble, "I'm just glad I only have to deal with the one of you tonight." Making his way up to Megan's side, Scott looks over the crowd of people gathered, then up to Alistair. "She?" One dark brow raises as the comment about the plant manipulator comes to the fore. A side-long look is given to Megan, and Scott adds quietly. "I'll check his call history when we get back to the Hangar. You're gonna be out a five-spot, darlin'."

"Eric." Colette affirms with a nod, trying to keep the name in memory instead of forgetting it a minute later. "Well… that's easy to fix!" There's a lopsided smile from the young girl as she holds up one finger as if to inform Eric to hold that thought and rushes over to the truck Alistair is at, following behind another one of the Ferrymen operatives, grabbing a palette box full of canned vegetables, then running them over to where Scott and Megan are, dropping them with a huff before wiping at her brow with a denim sleeve.

"I uh…" Colette exhales the words, meandering back over to Doyle. "Oh, right! All we gotta do is find out who did it, right? I mean, if it wasn't you and Kaylee then obviously someone there caused it. Do you know who?" Dark brows rise up as a mischievous smile crosses the teen's lips.

"I'm…" Shaking her head slowly, Hokuto exhales a sigh. "I've just been having trouble getting a good night's sleep as of late, is all. It's been a bad week, but… I think it might get better soon." A dishonest smile is offered to Alia as Hokuto keeps her focus out on the crowd gathered here. "So many people looking for a place to belong here… To think I'd all but given up on the idea of hope in this neighborhood." A look is afforded to Lola, followed by a quirk of Hokuto's head. "If— If you'll excuse me a moment." Then, as abruptly as a cat that spotted something that caught it's interest, Hokuto begins walking towards the direction Lola is in, her arms wrapped around herself and dark fur collar raised to the back of her neck.

Lola, in the meantime, has somehow been given a small wrapped parcel of food. She opens it and wrinkles her nose. No spices. It should be drowning in spices. Looking to her side, she sees another loitering being - a hobo who is chewing on a straw like he were a cow chewing grass. Even making the noises and everything. Lola hands him the food, and he looks down at it, then back up. Chew, chew, chew. The cajun woman's hand pats on the hobo's head, and lowers. She wrinkles her nose as she looks at her hand - which now just feels dirty, and she wipes it on her pant leg. Oh look! Someone's coming. "Where y'at, sug?" She asks, good-naturedly.

Alia makes no comment as Hokuto leaves. She hides her own expression, as the dishonest smile might fool some… but it didn't reach the eyes. She turns back to the make-shift DJing booth…even as she digs into her backpack and digs out… halloween candy. leftovers… she leaves it out for deserts, for those who wish to grab them.

Alistair blinks and looks between Scoot and Megan. He speaks sidelong to Megan.. "What'd I miss? and do I really want to know?" he hands a plate to the next person in line, while trying to come up with his own personal assembly line, working on five plates at the same time.

Aw, damn it! Megan rolls her eyes and just hands Scott back his five bucks along with five from her own pocket. "Dammit, Alistair, you just cost me five bucks," she gripes good-naturedly. "And hey, you should be glad you have me and Grace to keep you humble." As she fills a plate, she glances toward the area where the music is coming from and she has to smile. How many people out there need this moment in time, away from the stresses of their own lives? All of them as far as she can tell. Herself included — the first holiday after you bury someone sucks. She turns her attention back to Alistair as he comments and grins.

"I stuck up for you, Scott says you're a player. Sheesh. It's always the quiet computer geeks hiding out behind their bluetooths that you have to watch out for." She watches Colette and Doyle thoughtfully. "Remember that doc I told you about, by the way? He's still willing, even after thinking Kaylee and her buddy," she nods to Doyle, "started the riot, to look out for our people. I think we should talk about bringing him on board. His record is pretty solid, and considering the sheer volume of meds he's handing us, I think he's worth the risk." She continues to make up plates and pass them forward with a smile to each person.

As she runs off, Doyle slumps back into his fairly dejected posture; finishing off his portion of soup, the bowl lifted up to his lips and tilted back to drink the broth. Taken care of, he presses a hand to the ground and then heaves himself up to his feet, free hand brushing back to scatter dirt from his backside. Then Colette returns, and he gives her a rather bemused look, one brow arching in a sharp, acute angle.

"Find out who caused it?" He sounds disbelieving, "Do I look like a— a detective? It was a riot, it just sort of… happened."

"Oh, we're just betting money on your love life." Scott admits, looking over to the young woman he's handing out a styrofoam bowl of turkey stew to, then back up and over to Alistair. "You know, we've got a whole Squares game going on, I think Grace is worth twenty-five thousand at this point." There's a teasing smile that crosses Harkness' face, one that most certainly would be balefully-stared off of him by Grace were she here to hear the two ex-soldiers chirping about her as they are.

The change of topic causes Scott to offer a look to Megan, one shoulder rising awkwardly as he affords Doyle a stare, then looks back to Megan again. "Huh… He seemed like a good candidate, not enough doctors working with us, and with how badly people've been getting hurt we're going to need 'em. If you think you can handle his ticket, you've got the go-ahead. Just make sure you have Wireless check him out top to bottom before you start circling." All business at the flip of a switch, that's the Harkness way. It also lends plausible deniability to the notion that he has a sense of humor somewhere behind that gruff demeanor.

"Nothing's ever that simple," Colette notes with a shake of her head. "One of my teachers taught me that," she notes with a wrinkle of her nose. "And of course you don't look like a detective… but I just might be." There's a raise of one of Colette's brows, lips curled into a smile. "You want to clear your name with Doctor Brennan? Then you have'ta figure out what caused the riot and like— fight to prove your innocence. I believe ya, Eric, so— you've already got me convinced!" One gloved hand curls into a fist as Colette clicks her tongue. "Nothin' ever changes if you don't do anything to change it, right?"

"Miss… Mayeux?" The voice comes hushed, conspiratorial from the dark-haired Asian woman crouching down at Lola's side. Her stare drift across the the nearby homeless man, then back to Lola again. "Please I— don't be frightened. I'm…" Dark brows furrow together. "Do you remember me?" Unfortunately for Lola, the answer to that question is a solidly pointed no.

Wait, what now? "Sorry sugar," Lola says, eyes narrowing a bit at the asian. "'Fraid ya got the wrong gal. Name's Mary Lou, an Ah ain' botherin' nobody." Indeed, she's not! She even gave that homeless guy a turkey thing! Right there! Grease stain on her hand to prove it. "An Ah ain' lookin' for nobody, ya hear me?" In truht, Lola really doesn't remember this woman. And now she's scared.

Alia sighs softly… for her it's more… somethings he does every holiday. She finds something to do. This holiday… it was providing a bit of music, and some chocolate, to a place that could use more of both, among several other things. She stays, however, near mute. Words aren't her thing. She eyes up the batteries she had hauled here in the wagons, and hopes she didn't misjudge how long they would last.

Alistair blinks. "Player?!?" he looks incredulously to Scott and back to Megan.. "Please.. The girl's in her early 20's and a hippie. She'd be more willing to sell me weed then to date me." He scoffs, then winks to Scott. "though the redhead is easy on the eyes.." he turns back to Megan. "Doctor? Is that the guy you contacted Grace and me about?" he turns to Scott.. "Eeew… Grace is.. like… my sister or something…" He looks a might childish making a 'Eeew' face.

The teenager is regarded with a doubtful, hooded gaze from Doyle, the corners of his lips drooping in a frown. "The world never changes, kid," he points out in weary, cynical tones, his double chin lifted up in her direction, "It's just one long line of things that suck, one after another, because nobody really cares about anybody else, and the only thing that makes them happy is to see you lose out more than they do."

"Even if you find out who did it, I'll still get blamed," he mutters, heading back towards the hot food truck, "Anyway, I should get back to work."

"Least he said sister and not mother." Scott opines with his eyes closed and arms folded lazily, "She'd probably be waiting for him at the Hangar with a kitchen knife otherwise." There's a slow, solemn nod of Scott's head followed by a sly smile.

"Hey— hey Mr.Glumpants!" Colette moves to step in front of Doyle, brows furrowed and hands on her hips. "Nu'uh, you're not grumping out of this one." Her head quirks to the side slowly. "You can sit around and complain about the world all you want, but if that's how you feel, why're you here helping people?" One dark brow raises higher than the other. "You're not getting paid, it's miserably cold, and some of these people— " she lowers her voice, "smell terrible."

Affixing that green-eyed stare up at Doyle, Colette breathes in a slow breath and asks. "Is it easier for everyone to dislike you, 'cause then you don't have to feel bad if you actually do hurt someone's feelings?" Teeth toy at her lower lip. "Matilda and I are helping you, whether you like it or not."

Oh dear.

Across the street, seated on the sidewalk, Hokuto Ichihara offers a side-long stare to Lola. "It… I'm sorry, I thought you might be someone else." There's a hesitant look of uncertainty from the older woman as she watches the younger counterpart. "Ahh, then… Mary?" Her head tilts to the side, sending a long and inky tendril of black hair spilling from behind one ear. "You sound like someone I met in passing once, she knew a very shadowy man." There's a roll of one of her fur-clad shoulders, dark eyes cast to the side. "Richard's too far away right now for me to keep an eye on him, but I know deep down inside he was thinking about that Lola girl, worrying about her safety, before he left." Hokuto's dark eyes settle on Lola again. "Shame you're not her…" She adds, resting her gloved hands on her knees before pushing herself up to stand.

By where the music has set up, a few of the children following their more beleaguered looking parents to the food wander their way closer. Eyeing the candy offered out by Alia, their sheepish and red-cheeked smiles come with murmurs of shy thank-yous and cautious looks from their tired parents. In a way, the simple satisfaction a child can find in the world is one of the easiest things to lift spirits.

"Darlin, Ah ain' yet met a man what ain' shady an shadowy," Lola remarks, offering Hokuto a smirk as she reaches into her pocket and slisp out a flask, taking a swig. "If ya ever do, let me know." Joke aside, Lola does get what's going on. She's not as stupid as some people think. At least, she thinks she's not as stupid as some people think. "Why's it a shame, ya don' mind my askin, sugar? Why's it a shame Ah ain' her?"

Alistair looks to Scott.. "If she's holding a knife, it'll be in waiting for *you*." he says, as a non-descript white box truck arrives. Out of the driver's seat pops a bubbly young 20-something redhead with a bright smile. Alistair walks over to help unpack, but not before the young red-haired woman gives Alis a big hug. They go to open up the back and an abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables emerge. Alis calls out to some of the packing guys to help unload it.

Alia smiles widely at the thank yous, replying with nothing more than a nod of her head. The candy is all store-bought, still wrapped. She understood the caucious looks yet… she smiles and enjoys the simple things as she continues to let the music flow into the night… it's a calculated risk to bring so much to a neighborhood like this, but a worthwhile one.

There is a snort of laughter as the box truck pulls up, and when the redhead pops out, Megan starts to laugh. "Christ, she's an infant," Meg murmurs to Scott on a laugh. "Clearly I'm getting old." Shaking her head, Megan's eyes slip outward and she watches Doyle and Colette for a long moment. The young woman she's seen around here and there, but Doyle is someone she's not really met at all. She hands a serving spoon to Scott, cuz he's standing there doing nothing again, and she moves to refill the serving dishes again from the warming pans behind the counter — the potatoes and turkey are getting low. "I think I'm starting to feel damn old." Her 40th birthday just passed her by. Bleah.

She said she wasn't going to go back there, but with Doyle out of the house Kaylee's curiosity has gotten the better of her. So she bundled up for the cold and stuck out into the cold to come see what was happening. Her approach to the activity is slow and cautious, eyes seen above the dark blue scarf covering the bottom half of her face, scans for certain people. Imagine her surprise when she sees who is out there, brows lifting high.

Off to the side, Kaylee stands quietly, trying not to be seen, as she watches everyone work. This is why she threw her lot in with the Ferrymen, it was a good reminder for a woman who has been sulking around the safe house.

Hey, Doyle was trying to stalk off to feed the homeless! Now there's a little brunette in his way, and he scowls down at her, tapping a spoon against his 'Kiss The Cook' apron a few times. "What do you care, anyway," he asks, curtly, his brow furrowing in deep lines, "I just want to be left alone, all right? Maybe I should have just stayed back at McRae's…"

There's a wince from Scott at Alistair's comment, shifting his focus over to Megan with a smirk. "We're not old, we're vintage." Says the man just past fifty. "Sort've like a classic car or a fine wine, there's less of us and people with a discerning eye for taste find them more reliable." There's a crooked smile from Scott as he looks over to the box truck. "I gotta admit, though, he's got a way with words, doesn't he?"

Huffing out a snort of indignation, Colette moves aside to let Doyle back up into the meal truck, but follows him like a puppy up the ramp. "Well if I don't who else is going to? Obviously Doctor Brennan's wife got hurt in that riot and— and that girl and…" Dark brows furrow together as she lingers in the doorway. "If somebody doesn't do something, then nobody will, right? That's why we're here offering food to people, because we're taking the initiative. Why's it so hard for you to care about yourself?" Sounding a bit whiny with that one, Colette eases back and folds her arms, resting her shoulder against the door frame.

"Just… lemmie help you clear your name, Eric. Wouldn't it be nice if you and Doctor Brennan could get along? He's a really nice guy, he— " She cuts herself off, shaking her head. "We can work together and figure it out, and then nobody can blame you for that, because you would've done everything you can, right? I mean— don't… don't you want people to like you?"

With her back to Lola, the feline smile Hokuto offers goes unseen. As she turns, the expression turns a bit less impish as her dark eyes settle down on the younger woman. "I've got a warm bed and hot meals in a safe place to stay just a few blocks from here waiting for her. Also, there's… some cards I wanted to talk to her about." There's an incline of Hokuto's head. "Do you know where I might be able to find her? The offer's a long-standing one."

Yeah, that doesn't sound sketchy. "Cards, huh? Well Ah'm sure the girlie's got her own bed an hot meals. An as fer cards, that don' say much. Personally, Ah'd advise her that some stranger sayin' 'come home baby, an look at mah cards' might rank right there with 'hey little kid, come get some candy in mah rape-van.'" As Lola says this, a homeless mother and child are walking by. The mother glares, hurrying her child along. "No, sugar, not you! Your kid's hair's got an ugly cow-lick anyway!" Ahem. The faux-redhead's attention returns to Hokuto.

Alistair is busy unloading the supply van to hear any snarky commentary behind his back. Once unloaded the man thanks the young woman and waves at her, before she rushes up to kiss him on the cheek. She runs back into the van and heads off into the night. He makes his way back, cheeks a might redder then they were when he'd left.. "So… what'd I miss?"

Shaking her head, Megan snorts at Scott. "Silver-tongued devil, that one. I'm thinking he could talk eskimos into buying popsicles," she chuckles. "Watch… she's going to kiss him. Vintage, huh?" She merely leaves it at that, and as Doyle comes back up into the truck, she hands him her serving utensils. "Here you go," she tells him with a smile. "I'll be back with another crate of bread rolls in a minute." And she laughs at Alistair as she moves to step past him. "Scott owes me five bucks again."

Alia continues to hand out candy, offering what she has to share until it is gone… She shivers in the chill and tries to stay warm… even as she leans against the spot she set up her computer.

Slowly as she watches, Kaylee pulls off her knit gloves and shoves them, one in each pocket. Her smile brightens somewhat, while she loosens that scarf to let it hang loosely across her shoulders. Taking a deep breath she, pulls off her beanie tucking it away as well as she finally decides to approach the van. Putting on her best smile she approaches her fellow Ferrymen. "Am I too late to the party?" The words bright, even if she is a bit nervous about being here again. Tucking away her beanie she declares. "Put me to work."

Tromp, tromp, tromp go Eric's feet up the ramp and into the truck, the bowl and spoon set down with a clatter. The apron's tugged more properly into place about his girth before he steps up with a muttered apology for taking too long.

Of course, Colette's still trailing behind him, and doesn't seem to be willing to let the matter go! As he doles out the next plate to the person in line, he glances back to her with an irritated expression, "Look, he's happy with someone to blame, all right? Just let him be. I don't care. If you start poking around, you're just going to— draw attention, or something." Oh, look, it's Kaylee. "There's Kaylee. Go bother her, okay?"

"You kids look like you have things under control here." Scott says, noticing Kaylee's approach from a distance. The kids comment seemingly directed at Megan too. "I'm gonna' take the empty truck back to the Hangar and let Grace know what's going on. Meg, you've got my permission to start scouting up Brennan. Keep Grace and Wireless in the loop." He looks over to Alistair and cracks a smile, "Try not to strain yourself too much tonight?" The comment comes with a crooked smile as he looks from Alistair to Kaylee's approach and back again, then tips his head into a curt nod and starts off from the front of the meal truck towards the emptied pickup truck.

"He can blame the right person! Nobody deserves to be blamed for something they didn't do, especially not someone like you!" Not that Colette knows Doyle deeper than the surface, of course. "I— " Kaylee's familiar voice has Colette jerking her head to the side with one dark brow raised. Wow I know exactly how I'd like to put her to w— // Immediately the sound of shrieking echoes inside of Colette's head to cover up that errant thought, one brow twitching and a grimace on her face. "H— Hey it's— //you!" Lopsided smile and awkward flailing of both gloved hands, Colette shuffles sideways out of the doorway and around Kaylee. "I— I was just— leaving and you know— ahahaha…"

There's a mild laugh from Hokuto as she regards Lola with a suspicious stare. "I do have a stranger with a van who lives with me, but she a gypsy, so it's alright." Somehow Hokuto's rationalizations seem a bit baseless. "It's no matter, as long as Lola has a safe place to go and good company. That's all I know Richard wants…" Even if Richard didn't say it himself, and Hokuto simply takes liberties with his dreams. "It's getting cold, and I forgot to lock up my shop when I left…" Hokuto admits, rubbing one hand over her forehead. "Plus, I have someone handing out candy I need to check up on. But— if you see Lola?" Dark eyes move back to the focus of her very question. "Tell her to stop by the Ichihara Bookstore? It's only a few blocks away."

Really? You just announced in this group that you didn't lock up shop? That was probably not the smartest move this girl ever made. "Itchy hair bookstore, sugar. Gotcha." Lola takes another swig from her flask, one hand slipped into her jeans pocket as she watches the asian woman walk away. Bookstore, huh? Unlocked? Perhaps she can make this meeting a little more on her own grounds than not. Of course, she won't go right now - if there's one thing she's learned it's not to take the bait every time. Just sometimes. But not now.

Alistair blinks and looks to Scott.. Before he can explain himself to megan she walks off and starts to help with the handing out of supplies. He shrugs to Kaylee.. "Guess it's you and me. Grab some tongs and a spoon and lets give this stuff out until we see bottom!" he says enthusiastically.

There is a small grimace from Kaylee as Colette starts shrieking in her head, but she tries not to show that she heard the screaming. Even if it's like having someone scream in your ear. She looks slightly amused as the young girl skirts around her, a brow lifted with curiosity. Before the girl successfully gets away she says. "In stead of screaming.. sing a song.. Does the same thing and doesn't hurt. But try not to be so loud to start." She gives Colette a wink before, turning to give Alistair a grin. "Hey you.. Out from behind your desk I see?" She holds out her hands to the tools of the trade in question, "I have no doubt we'll come away from here without any food left. Just glad I showed up in time to help out."

Alia sighs as the last of her candy leaves with a child who is smiling. She sighs and looks at the empty plastic bowl… if only there was more to go around…

Thank goodness. Doyle turns back to handing out plates of food, shoulders slumped and a big, fake smile on his face for all the hungry refugees and homeless he's feeding. Maybe if he's really quiet she'll forget what she was haranguing him about!

Alistair nods to Kaylee, handing her the utensils. "I just had to bring in an emergency shipment. A friend of mine has a knack for growing vegetables. Scott and Megan were amused." he says, in summary. "And yes.. I came down from my Ivory Tower… it's a good thing too, or this would've been a disaster." He winks to Kaylee, words teasingly aimed at Scott off in the distance.

The sound of Colette's hand slapping to cover her own face as she edges away from the truck is loud enough for even Doyle to hear as she tries to hide how bright red she's becoming. Remembering she was in the middle of chastising Eric, Colette contemplates sticking around to try and convince the large man again, but the hesitation comes not from the embarrassment of Kaylee trawling the bottom of Colette's mind, but in the notion that she might have to make a point to Eric first.

Seeing the crowd thinning as it gets longer into night and colder, Colette flips up the collar of her black denim jacket and reaches in to the meal truck just quick enough to snatch up her brick red scarf and wind it around her neck. Looking over to where Alistair stands inside, Colette offers him a silent wave of goodbye before backing out of the meal truck's rear entrance and down to where she parked her dirtbike. The loud, sputtering noise of the engine firing up comes as another of the guests this evening is crossing from one side of the street to the other.

"All out?" Hokuto notes once she reaches Alia's side, looking down at the young woman with a shiver of her shoulders. "You know, there might be a way to make a better, bigger impact." One dark brow raises as Hokuto circles around to crouch down beside where the young woman sits. "It might not hurt to talk to some of the people organizing the food truck, if this is what makes you happy. That woman…" she nods towards Megan, "or maybe that one," a look to Alistair, followed by a crooked smile. "You never know."

In the darkness, among so many homeless and needy and aid workers, it is not hard for Lola to slip out. And slip out she does, almost like a ghost. One minute she's there. Another minute she's moving along the lines of crowds. And then she can no longer be seen. Whoooooo….

Alia smiles a bit as she nods to Hotuko. "Before I go." She says. The words are simple, plain, hiding nothing. She however, still looks concerned at her friend. "If you need help…" She leaves the offer open, knowing it's obvious how to finish it.

"Your rather sure of yourself, ain't you." Kaylee comments with amusement at Alistair, she gives a small shake of her head before she gets to work, though she pauses as Colette seems to scurry off. Leaning towards Doyle she murmurs a bit, "Boy.. Is it just me or does she seems scared of me?" She doesn't wait for an answer from the puppet as she sets about serving up what is in front of her to those people making their way down the line. She allows herself to sink into the work and try not to think about anything but the people before her.

Alistair shakes his head and chuckles. "I'm just kidding. I'm just glad we were able to do this." he says, as he notices the line starting to dwindle down, the end in sight. "We'll have to do it again, soon. now we know what to expect, we should be able to do better."

"She was trying to say that she wanted to go out and find out who started the riot," Doyle mutters under his breath to Kaylee's words, then flashes that fake smile to the next person in line, "Happy Thanksgiving!" He waves as they walk off, and then he turns to gather up the next plateworth.

"I'll know exactly where to find it." Hokuto notes with a hesitant smile, but then seems to temper something of a more troubled expression that crosses her face. "I… I'll remember you offered." The tone there seems almost unnerved, as if she isn't entirely sure she wants to lay whatever burden is keeping her up at night on Alia's shoulders. The dark haired fortune-teller wraps her arms around herself tighter from the cold, looking back to the meal truck and offering a mild smile, echoing Doyle's sentiments..

"Happy Thanksgiving…"

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