Participants:
| Scene Title | Crunch |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Lola pays Abby a visit when she comes to settle in New York |
| Date | August 24, 2009 |
Old Lucy's - Upstairs Apartment
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.
The bar is making moises downstairs through the floor, a door left open at the top to the back room of the bar. So when someone goes into the back room, you can hear the music. It closes, the music dims to near nothing. Abigail was in and out, going down to get some things or called down, when she came back, unpacking. This and that, the livingroom. Bedrooms had been done, the birdcage and the cat's accoutrements. Kitchen had been a priority.
On this last trip, stuff from the living room was being done. One such item was a statue. Jesus healing the blind man. The gift from Adam that Abigail had balked at due to the value of the item. All is quiet save for a budgie that flits to and fro in it's spacious case, and a black cat that perches on the back of a leather sofa. All in all it's a humble home.
And Lola? She broken in some time ago. She's been rifling between rooms, hiding when necessary. But now she's done hiding. From somewhere - anyone's guess where, she's gotten an apple. Yes, an apple. And she's munching on it, going through Abby's address book as though it were a simple novel, held between her thumb and pinkie when she wanders into the living room. "You sure do gotta lotta friends, darlin," She drawls, as though she were as welcome here as a room mate.
The black cat just eyes her from the couch, it's red velvet collar with tag that reads scarlet around it's neck.
The booklet filled with addresses, names, numbers. Divided by family, friends and 'healing'. Some don't have numbers but just street names. Homeless people. Most of the book is redudnant now. The apple just one of many fruits perched beside a blender that still had remnant of a green smoothie it seems. The door down below opens, music blaring, then closes. No footsteps yet.
Lola looks up, unhappy that she missed her opportunity. She was sure she heard Abby rummaging around in here! Alas, she turns around and goes into the second bedroom, preparing to make her exit again. She even flips back a few pages in the book, and stops biting on the apple to save some of the CRUNCH for when Abby comes in. Yes, she wants to do this right.
Maybe she didn't at the steps start protesting weight - any weight - on them. Abigail with her head down, a brown glass bottle in hand and thumbing her cellphone heads into the main room of the upstairs apartment. The little gold cross that Lola had for a few days glittering in the light. She murmuring to herself, and the amount of buttons she's pressing likely means she's sending a text message.
NOW Lola is ready to make her entrance! She walks out from the spare bedroom. If her feet aren't heard, the crunch of the apple is. "Ya got a lotta friends, darlin." She says, using the same line twice. Hey, no one heard it the first time, so did she really say it. A few pages flip. "Huh. You get these all at bars?"
Leonard wasn't home. Flint was… off doing business. up snaps Abigail's head at the accent and the voice.
"you" Blue eyes narrow.
"What did you steal?"
The accusation rolls off her lips so easily. "That's my address book thank you. And maybe four of them from the bar downstairs" Well, one from rapture, but that's defunct. "Why are you here? Mr. Zarek bring you up here to have a chat?" Caliban, she is sure, is ticked pink at the thought of Lola here.
Lola holds up her hands in a gesture of innocence. "Nothin!" She promises, moving her head to take another bite of the apple while it's held up in the air. "Just yer address book, and I'm just lookin. Figured you came ta visit me, thought it were only fair a me ta visit you. Ain' heard a nothin' from no Zarek. Turns out I'm livin' in the city now! Ain that somethin?" Munch.
"He must really hate me. Really. What did I ever do to Caliban" Other than send him a nasty gram via his voice mail. Across the floor Abby strides so she can try and snatch the address book away. "Just folks I've healed, so that if I need to call in a favor" At least the woman didn't come in at like 3 in the morning. "Enjoying my hospitality? If you need a place to stay, I'm sure the Linderman Group has a place you can stay"
Lola puts one hand on her hip, cocking her weight to one side as she munches. "Quit whinin, girlie. Last time I saw you it was ass-crack in the mornin' an ya were poundin' down mah door. I coulda been like you, but ah got manners." After the book is snatched - which Lola doesn't fight, she heads over to the sofa and flops on her back, kicking her feet up. "Sides, I got a place. Saw some folks get blowned up right down the road, but it's still not bad. Cheap beer."
"Well, unless your name is Robert Caliban or Daniel Linderman directly, your not getting any beer here. Certainly not cheap beer" Abigail has a reason for being grumpy just that Lola is not likely to now, much less be told why. "make yourself at home! Feel free to help yourself to food in the fridge. I need to pack" And watching the woman settle on her couch, the blonde takes off for the bedroom with the cross on the door.
Lola sits up a bit, only mildly interested, but interested enough to keep the conversation going. "Pack? Ya goin on vacation? By the way ya might wanna check them locks on yer door, sugar. Easier'n gettin' fat it was, bustin' in here. Five year old coulda dun it."
'That's because most people are smart enough to not come busting in my door lest my attack friends come and bust them up" Lola was right though. Izzy hadn't needed the security because it was Izzy. But she also had Leo. And Liz… well right now, she couldn't ask Liz who to go to. Maybe Flint would know someone when she got back. 'Friend got hurt, I need to go help him"
Lola lifts the apple up into the light, looking over it to make sure it's been bitten evenly on both sides. "Yeah? What happened?" She asks, only midlldy curious still. "Sides, ain' nobody got no reason to go attackin me, I ain' hurt no one."
"I don't know what happened. Something on Staten Island. Everything happens on Staten Island. It's probably been in the news somewhere" A small sports bag is pulled out of a box and she starts going through her clothes. "You'd be surprised in this city who doesn't care whether you've hurt someone or not"
Lola points a finger, suddenly interested as she sits up properly. "Ooh, I know. Did someone blow up and or get shot?" She asks, as though this were a game that were being played on television. "Cause if it were, I think I was totally there. Smashed up my beer bottle on some fellah's face."
Abigail pokes her head out of her room. 'Do I seem like the kind of girl who asks questions like 'so how did that huge chunk of rebar get through your middle?" Abigail should be pitching a fit and throwing Lola out but the woman is right. It's only fair, Abigail did the same, but with less break and entering.
Lola shrugs. "Maybe ya oughta be, I mean it's kinda important to know ain' it? In case you heal two sides a the same argument an tell 'em both it'll be okay so they go kill each other again? I dunno, seems like somethin' I would do, an you don' seem much like me." Lola is entirely neutral, that's her argument. Congrats, Abby. You guys have something in common!
"I don't heal anyone anymore actually Lola. I used to but I can't now. It's gone. But when I did, I did just that. I healed anyone and everyone. That's why that address book has many people in it. That's why when John Logan - who you will eventually meet because he now works for Linderman too - Kidnapped me and used me like a healing battery and cut out my tongue, a lot of people came to get my butt out of his little shipping container cells. Welcome to New York Lola Mayeux. This is not Louisiana anymore"
Lola shrugs a little bit, kicking her feet back up on the sofa as she eyes the statue, seeing it for hardly the first time now. She noticed it when she came in. "Louisiana, New York, ain' much different but the size an the accents an the big craeter. But seriously, healin' everyone just cause they was hurt, ya know the first they they done do was get up an try an kill each other again. Healin' like that is the best way ta keep the violence goin."
"I don't need a lecture about it. I know that. But a hurt person is a hurt person and the good lord and his blessed son didn't give a fig. They healed anyone. Who am I to turn away someone in need. Are we done with the lesson or do I need to find a notepad and start writing?"
She ducks her head back out. "Besides, didn't you hear me? I can't heal anymore. I'm incapable of doing as your mother did. The lord took it away. Which is why I had the Linderman card in my wallet. Robert Caliban sticks his nose in and makes sure i'm okay now and then. My guess is because selfless acts get rewarded and he knows what I went through because I could heal people"
Lola shrugs a bit, finishing her apple and looking for somewhere to throw it. The windows have screens, what's up with that. Stupid yankee territory. "That, or they liked that ya kept the chaos goin. I been with the Lindies for a few years now, and they like ta make chaos a things."
There's an empty box filled with pressed down packing paper. "They didn't know about me till I got caught on tape. So highly unlikely" Packing down and a red bag with a cross on it, Abigail retreats from her room. Some books from a shelf and a bible go into the duffel bag. She can pick up some fresh fruits and the like when she hits the street
Lola continues to eye the statue. There's some shuffling from the living room before her voice perks up again. "So watcha do now then that them Orisha's 'ave left ya? Ya know I might be able ta do a prayer wif ya that might help 'em come back if ya wanted 'em."
"It's not coming back. I already prayed, a thousand times over and everything that could be done, was done. The lord has seen fit to pass it to the hands of another to do his work. Now, now i'm going through school to become an EMT and eventually a paramedic. Hence, I'm going to Staten Island and I'm going to go see my friend who got hurt. If you're hurt, there's a healer, in little Italy goes by name of Dr. Chuck Pepper. Tell him Abby sent you. Or there's a woman over in brooklyn. Piece of cake bakery. She can heal too"
Lola shakes her head. "I don' need healin, darlin' but the fellah with my Bud lite in his face probably did. But maybe ya oughta try prayin' ta the Orishas. They's the ones in charage a such things as powers an the like. They touch you, you become special, that's what my mama always said. Couldn' hurt none."
"I'll get right that" Abigail murmurs. "Lock up when you go" No point in kicking her out, woman would just come back in. "Don't steal anything. It's not all mine" She switches out shoes, flats are gone and boots tucked under her jean pantlegs.
Lola pushes to her feet, shaking her head. "I'll leave, hangin' out here is too weird if I'm alone." She murmurs, heading for the door. "I'll be sure ta visit ya soon, dahlin." She promises, giving the girl a wink as she heads out.
She might notice, later, that there's a statue missing.