Participants:
| Scene Title | Ethics Of Drug Addiction |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | <summarize the scene> |
| Date | October 2, 2009 |
It's early evening, and Andrew is walking through the island. He doesn't come here often, but as he has business here, here he is. His route takes him past the old Best Western, now abandoned, as he keeps his eyes open for any potential trouble.
Dressed in her "disguise" of non-Designer clothing (jeans, black t-shirt, Converse tennis shoes and a Yankees ballcap) Peyton carries a box of medical supplies she was asked to pick up from one of their suppliers on the mainland and bring over to the island. She glances at Wendy. "I can't believe you come here by yourself. It's really not safe. Usually I have someone come meet me at the boat so I don't get abducted along the way," she says in a quiet voice, her eyes alert, taking in her surroundings as they walk toward the "hospital." "Aren't there places you can get that stuff without having to come here? It's not like the Staten discount matters much in your case."
It took Lola most of the new day to make it here. Withdrawal, a bruised throat from a crushing hand, and now a gunshot wound to her arm and to her side. She is in more pain than words can even begin to describe. Her grey sweatshirt is now soaked red, but at least it's turned a coppery color as the wounds beneath have begun to clot and the blood on her has begun to dry. But the fact taht it took her all day to get across Staten really says something. She's approaching the Best Western now, leaning against the wall just inside the mouth of an alley, panting, sweating, and even stained with tears as she looks on.
She tried to be nice, she tried to help. She just wanted to help people not get shot, or not get massacred. She was just trying to be like…everyone else. She hadn't even stolen in days! But now? It seems being herself was better off than all the rest of it. It seems that helping people isn't all it's cracked up to be. She really ought to stop.
The beaten woman peers aroudn the corner of the alley, looking aroudn for the quietest time to enter the 'hospital'.
"I was dropping some off for Devi, not buying it. BEsides, my supplier directed me to a place on the Island where I can get it when I can't find her" Wendy dhrugs, slumming it in her clothing as well, hoodie up, many layers of clothing. "Besides, i'm with you, i'm not alone" she points out. "And I got a taser"
Coming along to the hospital set up Kurt vollunteered himself to run some supplies when a person came into the couriers and asks. The young man has never been out here himself and looks a little wary of the scenery about him. "they really don't pay me enough for this…" He mutters do himself and shakes his head, his inherit niceness always gets him into these kinds of places.
Andrew peers back at Lola as he spots her. He heads over, a concerned frown on his face; tear stains aren't exactly a good sign, even if he can't see the bullet holes yet. When he reaches her, he can though. "Jesus Christ," he says, his Northern Irish brogue carrying more concern than surprise. "Who'd you manage to piss of this time? Never mind; you need a hand?"
"Yeah, I feel so much better with you here to protect me," Peyton says drily to the other woman with a smirk. "Aaron would kill me if he knew I was walking around here with just you as a bodyguard." They round the corner and notice Lola, and Andrew moving to help her. "Shit, it's the junkie from the other night," Peyton says, more to herself than Wendy, who would have no idea who she was talking to. "Hey, Ginger, you okay?" the young woman asks as she approaches the injured Lola, only then noticing Andrew as the bartender she managed to piss off not too long ago. "The hotel there, it's a hospital sorta, if we can get her in there, someone can help her."
Andrew. Adam's man. Lovely. Adam will hear all about this…hopefully she'll have time to get the bullets out and run like a bitch before that happens. For now? "I could use more'n a hand sugar…and believe it or not, this one ain' my fault. Well maybe it sorta is, but the throat ain'…" And instead of reaching for Andrew, she basically falls toward him as she hears a familiar voice. "Naw sugar, I ain' okay. Could use some more a that Ginger ale though, my side's burnin' somethin' feirce…" Might have something to do with the bullet that passed through there. Through and through, thank god.
Wendy hangs back, as wendy is normally to do save for a wave to Andrew. The only thing really about Lola that wendy seems to pay attention too is how between peyton and Andrew, the woman as well blares on her personal sensory radar. ENough that actually, wendy moves forward with peyton presumably to help with Lola. "Hey, Andrew, you get one side, i'll get the other. Pey, get the door?" As she moves to the other side of LOla. "Hey there, i'm wendy"
Kurt catches sight of the group helping the woman he failed to notice before and heads to grab the door as Wendy says for someone else to, "I got it." He says is a less then cheery voice. Off the bike is a matter of seconds he still pulls it along side him as he opens the door and gives Wendy a little nod, only person he knows here, even if she is crazy.
"It's fine; I can carry her," Andrew replies, lifting Lola into his arms in a way that would look very romantic if she weren't getting blood over his clothes. He hasn't seen the extent of the injury, so one hand clamps over one of the holes to prevent further bleeding. "I'm going to need one of you to open the door though," he then adds as he heads in that direction, apparently completely unencumbered by the woman. Maybe she's just that light.
"Clearly someone didn't like you," Andrew adds to Lola.
Raising her brow, Peyton gives Wendy a shake of her head in disbelief. That woman manages to know everyone, somehow. She re-hoists her box up on her hip and follows Andrew toward the door. "What happened? Who shot you?" she asks, frowning. Once inside, she heads to the counter, where the volunteers on duty are already scattering to get help. She sets the box on the counter and looks at the "desk clerk" on duty. "Tell them to be careful with any meds they give her; she was in here the other night and looked like she might be in withdrawal or something."
"You don't like me," Lola points out almost refelxively to Andrew as he carries her. Perhaps she is just that light - she is terribly skinny, but even she knows that's not the case in this case. She consents to being carried along, reaching out to hold a pink, rhinestoned cell-phone between her fingers toward Peyton. "By the way sug, ya dropped this," She explains, looking back to Andrew weakly, covered in blood and bruises, and still managing a wink. "I still got it," she whispers to him, before letting her head fall back weakly in his arms as she's ushered inside.
HEaring the talk to the doctors, Lola grimmaces a bit. "Withdrawal or somethin? It's just…withdrawal an lots of it. Fuckin' wikipedia said it'd be over by now…" But Wikispdia is not 'down' with Refrain so whatever she learned apparently was only a guesttimate. Wait, questions? What? Who shot her? "I dunno," she answers, a bit groggily. "Some bitch. And I weren' even doin' nothin bad. Were tyrin' to get a gun away from this other feller…" By discharging her weapon, "An then the bitch just spins an BAMBAMBAM!"
"Wikipedia is edited by morons. Withdrawl from anything varies by what you took, how often, how much and how long you've been taking it" She's been there, done that, has the t-shirt and the three year chip that really she should give back. She brushes a hand against Lola anyways, fingers curling into a fist with surprise at what she gets from the girl. A glance ot Peyton who's starting to surely know the look in Wendy's face means the the woman is Evo, at least. "Mayeb you need to haul your ass into this place and stay for a bit. They can make you comfortable while you detox"
Kurt is just confused and says to Andrew, "Door open…" Oh yeah he's a real good talker. Wendy's talk of withdrawl catches his attention though and Kurt seems to listen intently to all this information.
"I like you well enough to carry you into a hospital," Andrew points out. "Can you tell us who was there? Describe them at least?" he continues, trying to give her something to think about so as to keep her awake for as long as possible. Who knows, she might have even known one of them.
Peyton blinks and accepts the cell phone, slipping it into her jeans pocket with a confused look. "You can get some ginger ale when they're through patching you up, miss. And withdrawals take more than a couple of days, from what I've seen." Peyton's seen quite a bit of it, being friends with celebs and having done her own stint in a rehab facility, even if she wasn't an addict or drunk herself per se. Some people in scrubs come from a hallway with a gurney.
"I dunno 'bout stayin' here," Lola explains groggily as she lifts her head to glance toward the gurney. Ugh, that does not look pleasant or comfortable. But it does look like her last five mattresses on wheels. Falling once more into the crook of Andrew's arm, she grumbles, taking labored breaths, her brow stained by sweat. "Got some folks that ain' well pleased with me, though I figure…" she looks up at Andrew. "The ones on yer end, well there ain' much point a hidin' from 'em now."
She cloes her eyes a moment, sincere pain and just…honesty across her features. No doubt things that Andrew has never seen in her before - though no one else would know much of the difference. "Was a fellah, some lady an a guy in a ski mask with a voice box that made him sound like Darth Vader. He's the fellah that shot the other fellah, an he kept tellin' him ta hurry up an heal, blah blah blah, somethin' about cocaine….woman there seemed about ready ta attack him when I shot his gun away, then she turned an shot me…he called her a name…." Lola grumbles, trying to remember.
"She's" Wendy looks at Lola, coming to a stop in the 'hospital' beside peyton and rolls her eyes. "She's so far down in withdrawl, she's not making sense. She's just spouting gobbly gook pey" Wendy turns away. "I'll be out front waiting when your done"
Kurt continues to hold open the door till the hospital staff has the girl. then catching a staff member makes the delivery and slips out of the area, maybe the best plan.
"What was the name?" Andrew asks Lola as he lays her on the Gurney, not bothering to point out what a bad idea shooting to disarm is, and finally removes his hand from the wound. He moves his hand to check that his gun hasn't been taken. "You need to remember that name."
Peyton watches Lola get put in the gurney and gives Wendy a shrug. "They have it under control. She'll be okay," she says and nods toward the door. "See ya, Ginger," she tosses over her shoulder to Lola. "Feel better." She doesn't say anything to Andrew, but just gives him a nod.
"I know," Lola counters to Andrew as she's set out on the gurney. She flinches, lifting a hand in a wave weakly toward those as she's wheeled away. "It started with an I, I think….somethin' with an I…Irene maybe…no it weren' that…." Her detoxing, shot and strangled musings are led away as she's taken in the back to have her bullet removed, leaving Andrew behind wearing some of her nice warm blood.
"This is why, if you do drugs, you commit. You do it and stick with it till you overdose and die. Or, you don't start. Cause Rehab and withdrawal" Wendy shakes her head, no sympathy for the groaning moaning strange talking woman. "Come on, we can hit the boat home. Wanna come over or is Aaron waiting for you" Wendy's forefingers on either hand meet at the tips and she makes kissy kissy motions with her hands and the accompanying sounds with her lips.
"Not starting is probably the wiser idea. She's a friend of my boss, so I should probably stay here and make sure she doesn't die or something," Andrew says drily. "Safe trip home."
"Ethics of drug addiction. Come on, it's braver to quit than it is to stick with it," Peyton says with a shake of her head. She's no stranger to drugs, but she managed never to get addicted by making sure never to do one drug too many times in a row. "Yeah, I can come over. He's not my keeper, just my roommate." She pushes open the door to the street and steps out.