Everything's Just Steamy


abby_icon.gif huruma_icon.gif luke_icon.gif maddie_icon.gif ryans2_icon.gif vincent_icon.gif

Scene Title Everything's Just Steamy
Synopsis A night in Old Lucy's bring Ryans learning the unspoken rules, outing himself to an old target, Luke loosing his fake ID but escaping from both the company and the department of evo's when Vincent shows up and maddie just wants to make contacts! Really! That's all!
Date March 28, 2010

Old Lucy's

Old Lucy's has a vibrant and lively feel to it, from the dark wooden floors to the black and cream risque wallpapered 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 back room and owner's office and a stairwell that leads the residence above the floor above the bar.

Tony ambles on over to the bar, and leans on it. "Hey doll. Beer, whiskey chaser, and whatever you're having."

"My name is not doll" Comes quickly from the blonde working behind the bar. She called in sick to work, not up to working stocking shelves and ambulances since she obviously wouldn't be working a rig. "It's Abigail, or Boss" far less joie de vivre in the blonde today as she grabs under the counter for a chilled glass to put it under one of the taps since he didn't specify a particular drink. It's slid across, a nice head on it before a glass, soon filled with whiskey, is making it's way to in front of him as well.

"You don't want what I'm having. I'm having nothing" Abigail takes this moment to actually look at Tony and recognize the man slightly. "Where they have you now? I haven't seen you at the Garden"

Tony shrugs a little, "Kinda slumming a bit around town. Kind of cold to be staying all the way out there." And he tilts his head, and says, thoughtfully, "Sounds like you could do with a drink, though, whether you've got one or not."

"If I drink, Huruma's gonna kill me and have me for dinner. I don't need to be drinking" She's been doing far too much of that in the past and she's determined to not. Doesn't stop her heart from racing at the scent of the whiskey. "It's not too cold. Could be worse, could be Alaska" She points out, even as someones butting in to get a pitcher of beer.

A live band plays somewhere in the back of the bar, not a bad one, but nothing spectacular. The hope that it will pick up the customers who have been eschewing the cold. So far, it's been working and while the place isn't packed, there's at least a good chunk of people. Some underagers, all over 18 as well. Fans of the band members. Can pick them out from the neon green bands on their arm and if they make it to the bar, there's the UV stamp on the back of their hand that gets checked. If you got it, you're legal to drink, if you don't, you're getting virgins.

Drinks that is.

Tony gestures, to the girl behind the bar, a beckoning motion, as he slightly leans forward, presumably wanting to whisper to her.

Pushing into the bar, is a man that probably looks more gangster then anything with the fedora on his head and huddled into his brown canvas duster, he's followed by a blast of clod as the gust rolls through. "Damn the cold." Growls Ryans, as he steps further into the bar. The hat is slid from his head as he reaches the bar. "Abigail." He offers politely in greeting, a ghost of a smile touching his lips.

The Company agent takes the time to, loosen the ties of his duster and shrugs it off his shoulders, "A scotch on the rocks when you have a moment?" The coat is draped on the stool before he slides up onto it. Left in only a powder blue dress shirt, black slacks and his leather shoes. A glance goes to Tony, before he take a glance of the rest of the bar.

Huruma's presence is almost like she has become part of the background- she tends to be around in some capacity, whether anyone sees her or not. Today is little different. Huruma slinks in the back like most times, seeping into the bar proper like a spill of ink dripping in from under the door. Quiet, unobtrusive- potentially a mess, even. When the tall woman does make her way out, her eyes are already searching for Abigail. The volume of her in Huruma's head is rather upsetting, in the way that others tend to get in such a state when someone is not in the best of ways. She stays pinned near the back wall for what seems like ages.

Even through Ryan's entrance, the woman is paused like a statue- or more aptly, a painting with the rolling eyes.

Though Abby caused her to be frank with getting inside, the man that sits at the bar, turning to glance around- now has her full and undivided attention.

The now younger company agent. Only not a company agent, but he is a company agent. It can get confusing. "Mr. Ryans" Sober - in the non alcoholic sense - greeting for the man when he settles at a chair at the bar. 'Scotch, on the rocks. Careful or you're gonna become a regular" Smiles don't even reach her eyes and Abby's turning to limp towards the back shelf - exposing tattoo's never before seen to some - to grab the scotch and fill in the guys order. "How's Lucille? I haven't seen her cover yet. She needs to bring it in"

But Tony needs to say something and even as she's leaning across the bar to make it easier to whisper, her eyes land on her dark skinned bartender and the way the woman is holding herself.

Tony grins, and very quietly suggests to the woman leaning over, "So. Have a vodka lemonade on me, eh?" He leans back, picking up his beer.

Slowly turning back to the blonde across the bar, "Well.. just don't Lucille. It will make her nervous to know I'm coming here." Ryans leans back on the stool, his foot hooked on the rungs. "She's okay. Had dinner the other night, with her sister." Fingers run through his hair and he sighs. "If she does not show it. Ill make sure to bring in the copy she left me."

At the moment he hasn't spotted the dark woman, he watches Abigail for a long moment, before dropping his eyes to his fedora as it rests on the bar, thoughtful. Cash is dropped on the bar, for when the drink arrives.

Huruma seems- not confused- not quite interested- but there's something floating around her head that may make Abby keep watching. The familiar fog that people get when either remembering something one hasn't remembered for years- or at least trying to recall it in whole. After a few seconds of this, she moves.

Huruma picks up her feet to move across the rear of the bar, her eyes glued to the young old man as she slips into his vision and past Abigail like a wiggling heat on the surface of asphalt. She regards the man like he is a curiosity on his own. Something potentially fragile when it comes to contact- a valuable antique apparently deserving of a shark's patience before anything actually occurs.

Luke finally makes a visit to Old Lucy's despite having known that Huruma works here. Maybe it was the last time he met her that gave him pause to show up until now, who knows. He flashes a fake id that has gotten him into places of alcohol previously, although whether it passes the muster this time is unclear. He looks around the entire room consideringly, then notices Huruma, nodding to her in case he catches her eye. She looks distracted, though so likely not.

Whatever he whispered, doesn't seem to be something that Abigail agree's with. "Maybe another day I will, i'm not going to today" Lukes ID passes muster, stared at a little too hard before he's given the stamp on the back of his hand. Only Ryans would really know that he's not legal. To the bouncers at the door, he is.

Money is exchanged for drink and Ryans gets a nod. "I won't tell her you patron here and you just make sure I get a copy of the magazine so we can frame it and put it above the bar" Huruma's eye'd, blonde brows crimping downwards and trying to figure out what's got the woman's goat. "What can I get you" This to Luke as he comes to the bar.

Tony shrugs a bit, taking a sup of beer, and then says, "Yeah…. yeah, that'd be good. Not least, I figured we had stuff to talk about. But, y'know, looks like your evening is getting busier. Can I grab your number maybe? I can give you a call, as and when?"

Movement, catches the agents attention and eyes life from his quiet inspection of the bar, trailing up the form of the tall dark woman. Once the company agent sees who it is, he goes completely still, the corners of blue eyes crease slightly as he focuses on a familiar face, but his face reveals nothing. Of course, Huruma would be able to feel that surprise and caution.

It's much like two cat staring at each other, the big stoic lion and the wild black panther. It is Ryans deep calm voice that purrs out first. "Well, if there was ever a shadow of the past…" Eyes don't leave the woman, but she does get a small incline of his head. "You look…" Eyes dips down along the tall woman's frame, " …the same."

Lucky Luke, the big bad agent is distracted.

It's hard to mistake her- and those eyes on Ryans just bore like two distant white hot coals. She can feel Luke coming in, though with her distant relation to him he is merely a very familiar presence for now. She'll have time to notice him when something explodes. Huruma's nostrils flare in seething silence, eyelids lowering. Her goat is so got.

The woman's face turns on the hinge of her neck, the serpentine gesture only heavy enough to carry some sort of faint connotation. She considers him at further length, his emotional static tingling into her awareness. After a time, she laughs a slowly bubbling laugh, lips peeling back to reveal a sliver of a smile.

"As d'you."

Luke raises an eyebrow and regards the man Huruma seems to be annoyed at, then shrugs and goes to sit down at the bar some distance away, resting his elbows on the counter with an expulsion of breath. Well, he got past the bouncers, at least, though it seems no one else cares he came in. He stares at the examples of alcohol available consideringly. What should he try today?

Abby scribbles out her name on the back of a coaster and her cell number before passing it over between forefinger and thumb. "Better off calling me in the evening Tony, I work most days from six to six" A bit of a grim smile offered.

The byplay between Ryans and Huruma though. Well, now. This makes sense. "She won't bite, don't worry" Whether Huruma really won't or not, it conveys to the company agent that yes, Abby knows about Huruma. "This is neutral ground by the way. Don't think I ever told you, didn't think I'd need to tell you. It's unspoken but respected. Everything happens outside of my bar. Got me?" Abigail says pointedly to Ryan. She won't say what happens, but he can very well imagine. Tony's given a wave as he pushes away to go off to the wild blue yonder. There's a glance to luke and raise of brows. "What will you have?"

The agent doesn't relax any, even with her laugh, but he does reach to pluck the tumbler of scotch off the bar and take a sip. "Age-manipulator." Is all the explanation for his looks, before he takes a sip.

A glance goes to Abigail, the glass getting set on the bar, "Yes, ma'am." His eyes go back to Huruma. "It has been years Huruma… Simply years." Eyes cut back to Abigail. "And… yes… she does bites, when the mood hits her." Oh Ryans knows about this one. Another sip is taken of his scotch, a small hint of a smile touching his lips even if it doesn't reach his eyes.

That smile however fades away, the glass pausing in a lift, when he sees the person Abigail is serving. Alarm is what Huruma will feel from the man, as it pours into a cold brick in his stomach. Of all the places to see a target.

All this place is missing is a Neutral Ground accord, or something like that. Huruma very well knows it, and she has always respected it- most others do. And for those who don't, that's why she's here in the first place.

"Ohh, what I would giiive…" An age manipulator? She could actually live forever. How horrific is that? Lots of fake smiles all around. Huruma allows her curiosity to seep into her eyes when she feels the thrumming of alarm in his head. Her gaze follows along, landing on Luke second. A company agent and his new best friend, standing across the bar from one another- staring at him. Uh oh.

Luke is oblivious to the stare leveled on him by the Company agent and Huruma, since Abigail is all asking him what he wants. "Huh… got yeager bombs?" Luke doesn't really know many alcoholic beverages, after all. "Or whatever, I'm not all that picky." smile.

'Okay, well, she won't bite hard" Abby concedes. "Yeager bomb it is" Irish car bomb, Nicks favourite. For a moment, Abigail's a little nostalgic but then back to the depression that settles around her like a cloak. The various components set up and slid in front of Luke, exchanging alcohol for money and a flick of the UV pens light at everyone's belt to make sure he's not just pried off the wrist. Only Ryans really knows whether Luke's legal or not.

Neutral ground… that is a hard things about now, but… A sideways glance goes to Huruma and a heavy breath is sighed out as he tries to relax, but he can't, every instinct in the man says to pounce. However, while he's fidgeting inside, on the outside, the senior company agent seems to busy himself sipping at his drink.

He watch the interaction for a moment, a small smile hitches on one side of his lips. "Abigail." Is called to her when he watches her check the hand, no mistaking that voice. "A moment please?" There is a pointed look given to her, a finger lifts to motion her over, neutral ground or not, there is somethings he can do. He leans forward, risking getting within biting range of the dark woman, to show it's for bartender ears only.

Huruma is mildly surprised that he chances getting closer. She is certain it has something to do with Luke, however, putting two and two together. Her head tilts to look back to agent Ryans, already suspicious of his motives. Thankfully she does not actually say anything to alert anyone, nor does she physically react much as to do the same.

Luke lifts a brow at some of the ingredients as he watches it being made, then like a man drinks an entire mouthful. No girly little sips for him! Miraculously, he manages not to choke on it, either, though a glimmering around his eyes might suggest there's some sort of suppressed reaction to it. He looks around casually, but no one is paying attention to him at the moment. He's somewhat disgruntled at that. What, he's not a badass for handling alcohol so well? Pff.

"Hmm?" She tears her gaze away from the beer fountain where she was pouring a pitcher. It's passed over to one of the others working the bar and with a glance to Huruma, she leans across the bar so that yet another man can whisper something into her ear while red nailed fingers tap on the bar top.

His voice rumbles, but it doesn't carry as far as Luke. "Young man down the bar." Ryans head turns slightly to look at the kid. "He is a minor." He can't grab the kid now, but he can make his night miserable. "Trust me on this." Then Ryans sits straight giving Abigail a level look. "I know it for a fact." Eyes shift warily to Huruma, thankful she didn't bite, Ryans probably knows first hand.

Well, that gets Luke a look for sure from Abigail, then back to Ryans with a raise of brows that is both curious how he knows this, and at the same time, grateful. It's a peeve of hers when under agers come in and manage to slip on by. She just nods to the company agent before easing on back to her normal position. There's a nudge of Brenda's shoulder and soon enough, all across the bar, people are being asked to produce their ID's when they approach for drinks. Bracelets or no.

This includes Luke, Abigail looking across the counter at him "Hey, can I see your ID?"

When people are told to show IDs, Luke rolls his eyes and pulls his fake out. It's actually a well-made fake, although he's listed under a different name than his real one. He's supposed to be in hiding technically, after all. It also proclaims he just turned 21 a month ago, which is close enough to his real age that it shouldn't be a problem.

Sitting up back in his stool, Ryans bows lift as he watches Abigail check the ID, eyes narrowing slightly, watching. "So… Huruma." He offers softly, glancing back at the tall woman, as he produces his own ID and sets it on the counter for the tender. "How have you kept yourself busy all these years?"

The agents eyes slide back down the bar, curiously.

Huruma waits and listens as closely as she can without actually leaning in. When the command goes down the line from Abby, there is a moment of wistfulness with how the girl 'manages her troops'. It is rather effective. When Ryans leans back in his seat and passes the time with small talk, Huruma turns her face back to him.

"Oh, you know-" Huruma begins, as if implying the same old. In his case, he may actually know some of it. "-th'usual. I noticed they did no'send you afte'me again." Her lips curl slightly, words purring low as she leans her palms to the edge of the counter, swaying closer.

Luke's going to hate this place, or at least Abby as she takes the ID from him. This way, that, she studies it. She could believe the card itself, or she can believe the .. active(?) company agent.

Luke's really going to spaz because she reaches to the side, just out of view of the bar and pulls out some kitchen shears and starts to cut up the ID. "Listen. Kid." She doesn't frankly look old enough to drink in here herself. Snip snip snip goes the card before him. "Go for 22 next time. 22, won't be questioned. But I got someone here who says for a fact, that you are not twenty one." One lone fragment is handed back to him. "That was your last drink in here until you're actually twenty one. Understood?"

Bubbles form in the glass Luke is holding and rise to the surface, then subside as he wrestles his temper under control again. Must not destroy the place. Abby might notice that it's getting slightly uncomfortable, but she's not getting zapped or anything. "What the fuck?" he snaps. "Who the hell even knows me in this dump?" his gaze sweeps angrily over towards Huruma, but far as Luke can remember, she doesn't even know his name, much less any other details about him.

Eyes narrow somewhat at Huruma as she leans closer, Ryans is on his guard. "Well, they had to find me a new partner of all things. Imagine that." Eyes lid somewhat, brows furrowing some, but that neutral expression doesn't crack really. It's just a pleasant chat. "Of course, by time I got around to thinking about you again, I retired."

Picking up his ID again, his wallet open enough to show a glint of a metal badge, not retired anymore it seems. The wallet is tucked back into the inner pocket of his black sports jacket. "And at present.. you are not a target."

Luke, however, blue eyes slide that way again as Luke gets upset. One of his feet slides off the rung as if waiting for the kid to really do something stupid. All he needs is a reason…. neutral ground be damned.

Huruma angers many people; Luke's anger is not the first she feels and ignores. Ryans is the most interesting thing of her night. Her brows lift, arched lines giving her the most fake astonished look. "Retired? You?" She scoffs loudly, drawing one set of fingers under her jawline. Another smile grows when he flashes his shiny new non-retired badge.

"Ahh. Could not stay away? Hmhm." Huruma chuckles deeply, eyes following Ryan's glance towards the boy. She leans down, closer. If she flirted, it might seem like that from afar- but she doesn't really do that, unless it is to unsettle someone. This- this is only to get closer to him to murmur near his ear.

"Your deal wit'th'boy?" What is it?

"Language!" Abby snaps back. "Show some respect. You got caught because someone obviously does. Enough to let me know that your ID may have passed at the door with a quick look, but it didn't pass up here. Finish your drink, and if you want another, you're out of luck. I don't serve underage in my bar and your little trick screws it over for when I do let folks under 21 into my bar to enjoy music. Next time, don't try to ruin it for everyone. Be happy I'm not calling the cops Mr. Larry Hunt"

The rest of the card is swept up and put into a cup, pushed to the side. "I get caught serving someone under aged, it's my bar that gets hurt. Not you. Think about that next time because they don't take "oh I didn't know" as an excuse. They fine me, they can suspend my alcohol license and them I'm the one who's fucked"

She is getting uncomfortable and Huruma can feel it on the emotional level, and that she used a swear word after telling someone not to swear. Blue eyes drop down to the glass with it's heating up liquid then back to Luke as she rolls her shoulders in hope that the uncomfortable feeling might just ease away, a byproduct of her anger at the world right now..

The feeling does fade away after a moment, as do the bubbles in the drink. Unfortunately, it's not drinkable anymore, so Luke sets it sharply on the counter. "Fine then, you trust the word of someone who doesn't even know me that much, I'm surprised to have any patrons here at all, bitch." he stands up and heads for the door, and a lightbulb explodes as he passes it and out the door.

"Retirement is for the elderly." Ryans comments mildly, with no smile what so ever. "Besides, I could not sit back while the dangerous ones were out there." A glance going to Luke, before he gives Huruma a sideways glances, a corner of his mouth gives a bit of a twitch. She is obviously one of the dangerous ones in his mind. "Not to mention… Gardening is rather boring. Not as good as the hunt."

When she leans closer, his head turns to regard her, "Business." Is all he supplies for the empath, when she asks about Luke. "Do you know him?" He asks softly, his eyes turning back to the scene, of course, there will be no time to to find that out as Luke heads for the door. It has the agent getting to his feet and grabbing his jacket.

What anyone following after Luke will find is that a large snowdrift near the entrance is now gone, and there's a huge amount of steam obscuring everything. Near the entrance are the remains of a poor, helpless snowman sans snow, which Luke seemed to have taken his anger out upon. It's impossible to tell which direction Luke went after that.

Huruma's eyes twitch into a squint at Abby next, studying the two arguing down the bar. As Luke makes to leave, she smiles offsides to Ryans. "I hope you d'no'think badly of me- if you thought I was still dangerous…" She would be totally offended. Really. Really really. "I know th'feeling- I can stand t'be domestic only in doses." Before the urge to be in action tickles at her again.

"I have met him, briefly…" Huruma purses her lips, watching the agent as he quickly rises. Oohh, better get those dangerous ones.

Exit Luke, and the uncomfortable feeling subsides and Abby stops scratching at her shoulders. Like a damned sunburn it felt like, but her pale skin doesn't show traces of what Luke did. That Ryans is swiftly pulling away from his chair, well. Abby's got a pretty good idea of what's going on and there's a silent prayer that Luke makes it away before Ryans get to play tag and bag. There's a knowing look shared with Huruma, a wave to Ryans before she's carefully pinking up Luke's hot glass and somewhat evaporated alcohol.

Ryans' coat is part way on by time he reaches the door, a hand going to it to open it. As it's shoved open, the Company Agent gets a face full of steam. Son of a…. The world is white in front of him and he is forced back a step. He stares at the shut door for a moment, shrugging the coat on the rest of the way, before pushing it open again to a clear world, stepping out to look, hand still holding the door open, a hint of a frown on his face.

"Wonderful…" The world rumbles from the agent blandly, as the steams starts to fade, leaving it just the Company agent standing there holding open the door. What was gonna happen next to make this day that much better?

Maddie was just heading toward the door from the cold wintry cityscape outside when the puff of steam interrupts her steps. She pauses, looking confused, and then raises her brows, pale eyes looking up into Ryans' face. "Someone making a dramatic exit?" she says cheerily enough — she is in fact a cheery vision against the pale white and gray of the city beyond her, a bright blue coat to contrast with her golden curls and bring out the blue in her eyes. "Thanks!" she says, as if he was holding the door for her, sailing through into the bar proper.

It's been a while since Vincent has set foot inside of a bar. But under circumstances such as these, it's business rather than pleasure that sees him manifest through the remnant fog of steam that stirs in Maddie's wake: a grey smudge of a disapproving look that coalesces into a disapproving man in a disapproving black coat.

Not four feet from where Ryan stands in the cold, he forces out a misty sigh and snugs his sidearm firmly back into the holster on under his suit.

Huruma leans herself onto the bar again, hip propping her up against it. She casts a wary look towards Abby before looking up to the front of the bar again. Pff. Agents. Pff. Fugitives. Her field stays up, though she feels around at Abby for posterity. Just checking.

"Shut the door, mabozi!" You're letting in the cold, for crying out loud!

Okay, that was an ability in play it seems. The cup with the chopped up ID is started at for a moment, two, three and then left right where it is. A reminder for all that this is how you deal with fake ID's.

Ryans is glanced to at the door with a "He's gone, either stay or go Mister Ryans" before she glances to Maddie entering and then someone else that niggles somewhere in the back of her mind.

"Move on in people, I'm not paying to heat the out doors. So come on in, show your ID to Bernice and get your stamp or wristband" Abigail calls out, returning to filling pitchers and taking orders while the band in the back takes a breather.

There is a blink as the steams offers up a blonde, Ryans turns slightly, watching her step into the bar, brows lifted slightly, a hint of amusement on his features. "Pleasure.." He offers, before the form of Vincent poofs into being near him. "Lazzaro." The name is said pleasantly, and yet a hint to it like there is a bad taste in his mouth.

"Expecting trouble?" The door is let go, Ryans has no desire to hold it open for the Department of Evolved Affairs, Ryans is leaving anyhow. Besides.. Vincent can poof under the door if he wants to go inside.

Maddie pulls out her ID — not a New York issued card, but one that shows she hails from Colorado, except her Australian accent suggests that wasn't her original genesis. Once she gets her stamp, she moves toward the bar, looking a little amused at all the hollering about the heat. "Don't worry, it's nice and steamy right outside the door," she tells Abby, sliding up onto a bar stool. "Any local microbrews worth drinking here?" she asks, craning her head to look at the decorative taps to see if any look interesting.

"Until your management of this case gives me reason to believe otherwise, yes."

Says Vincent.

Very plainly.

And with one last stiff push at his holster before he can thumb over the strap that keeps the gun from falling out when he bends over for Praeger. He watches the door swing shut without him, eyes black as the spent snowman's vacant coals, then looks back to Ryans, about as unsmiling as it's possible for a person to get. "I trust you don't intend to give chase."

"Hmm.." Do they have microbrews? What is a microbrew? Probably not something that the owner needs to admit that she doesn't know. "Nope, sorry" There's a gesture to the wall behind her that is filled with bottles and a mirror that lists in red print prices and selections as well as the alcohol that is on taps. "You name it, we can likely make it"

Abigail throws a glance towards the door again and then to Huruma as if inuring if everything is fine over there.

There is only that neutral look for that other agent, a smile threatens to touch his lips and Ryans turns and starts to walk away, the blackberry he was issued. Damn Company texters, is fished out of his pocket and he's already tapping at those infernal keys. A clear statement of, for me to know and you to wonder, blue eyes scanning around him as he walks, his actions clearly says what he's doing. Looking for something… some clue of the kids passage.

Maddie nods, tilting her head to read the list and shrugs. "Pomegranate margarita, then?" she says cheerfully enough, though she turns to look toward the door curiously. "Something big going down? This place seems to get his share of news." It's why she's here — not that she thinks she'll stumble on a story tonight, but because Old Lucy's seems to be the hub of strange Evolved events, according to the database she peruses at work while waiting for sources to call back.

"There is a reason police chases are discouraged on busy highways, Benjamin." Benjamin. Lazzaro has a way with subtle inflections of tone, nearly as talented as an elementary school teacher or a spurned wife in his application over Ryans' first name. He stands up a little straighter against the cold (alas, still only 5'8") and stiffens out his collar, not quite preening but close enough to be irritating anyway. "It's generally unwise to chase anything that might kill people in a panic."

They still carry that cherry stuff and no microbrews? Well, that may have to change. Huruma cants her head when Abby looks over, not looking particularly invested in what is now going on outside the front door. It may be a second meeting of old dogs, but there is nothing terrible going on yet. No worries, it seems like. The tall woman sidles down along the bar again, casting shadow briefly over part of the counter.

As she passes Abby again she can be heard muttering something about agents under her breath.

Company agent vs company agent? Is this a pissing over someone elses territory?

For the record, Abby has stopped procuring the lindman Kreiks. Since Adam hasn't showed his face. But maybe with a cash course in education, she can learn about this microbrew and bring some in. Depends on how business goes in the next month or so. One last glance for the old dogs at the door before she settles the full of her attention on Maddie. "Nothing going down today. I think they're just old friends. It's been pretty quiet lately. The cold discourages things from happening"

Besides, everything happens outside the bar, not inside. Pomegranate Martini is easily done, if maybe a recipe needed, but she brings it up fast enough after a quick check of the stamp. The red color of the drink vibrant against the white tank top backdrop before it's put on the counter over a black cocktail napkin. No dancing on the bar tonight.

Turning to face the man, fingers pause as Ryans glances back at the agent. A single brow arches slightly."I just witnessed a young man, take his anger on a snowman." The bass of his voice is calm, not a hit of the subtle anger he's feeling. "Not the young lady inside. Besides, Lazzaro… " Turning sharply on his heals, he starts to walk away. " …chasing doesn't always mean barreling ahead like a bull." His voice still carries some with the distance. It can be subtle too, but he is not going to say that.

"Enjoy the drinks, Agent. Watch out for the dark skinned one. She bites, but maybe that's your kind of thing." And Ryans turns a corner out of sight.

"Thanks," says Maddie cheerfully, putting a bill on the table beside the drink before picking it up to sip. She turns back to look at the door again, and then back to Abby to nod. "Discouraging violence is one good thing about this weather, I suppose. I can't stand it myself. I left Colorado where it was getting springy, for this?" she says with a chuckle. "If I hadn't just started this new job, I'd fly south for the … spring." She makes a face. "I don't like this cold weather. I'm a beach girl."

"I'm sure that line of speculation will be very reassuring to the families of the people he's made into human-flavored hotpockets. In fact, I think the press is just inside if you'd like to give a statement. …As for the warning," Vincent gives the closed door an up and down and then a nod, gloved hands flexed near his pockets, "duly noted. Enjoy your evening."

Then he vanishes in a turn of darker stuff than the snowman was made of, sooty smoke flushed down close to concrete before it dissipates entirely.

"I think a great many people wish that the snow and the cold would just go away" Abigail is her southern accent to Maddie's Australian one. "Even I would. I'm already dreading how high the electricity bill is gonna be for this place." but it won't be an issue, just Abby grousing how much it'll be when it should be lower.

She distracted by the voices at the door and the disappearing man who is there and then.. smoke and poof. Causes the blonde to lean over the counter and look to see if maybe he's an evolved who's taking the shortcut to the bar for a drink, even if it makes her grimace a bit from her hip pressing against the wood. "Never really seen someone use that before…" She murmurs.

"I could'ave stayed in th'tropics." Huruma says this just from over Abby, her back half turned as she deals with something. "Th'only way I manage is t'wear someone else's fur." Her head turns again, peering after Abby when she feels that twinge of something as her hip presses the wood. At that point, Huruma stares intently, apparently having paused or forgotten what she was doing with her cellphone.

"Interesting," Maddie says, brows raising. She didn't recognize Vincent by voice in passing, though she's only spoken to him on the phone once or twice, short and terse conversations, pulling teeth for the quotes for her stories. "I'm hoping it doesn't last too much longer. There's only so much winter I can stand. By the way, I should introduce myself — Maddie Hart. I'm guessing you are Abigail Beauchamp? I'm at the Times." She pulls a card out of her purse, and hands it to the other blonde woman. "I doubt you'll ever want to call me, but, you know, there's my number if you go against the grain." Bright smile.

"I can still get you to the tropics, if you want. You can visit him for a weekend" Abigail tosses over her shoulders. Abby knows so many people and so many abilities, it's no wonder. She does have a TP'er on tap for emergencies.

And yet, here's Maddie passing her a business card, already knows her name and is a reporter. The southern blonde looks down at the card for a handspan of moments, trying to decide the tactful way of saying 'you're right, I wouldn't'. But she's not in the mood to figure stuff out, so just takes the card, tucking it into a pocket, oblivious that her bouncer is staring at her. "Abigail Beauchamp. If you're from the paper" Which she is, or so that card says. "No surprise that you know that. Listen, I don't heal anymore, so if you came down looking to write an article cause the news is slow, I don't do it anymore, can't do it anymore, I'm un-registered and do not possess the SLC gene. And no, there's no story in that either"

Well, there's is but she's not about to cough it up if that's what the woman came here to see about. "If you just came for a drink, then welcome and I hope that you're not disappointed"

Huruma's interest in certain things goes away faster than others. This is one of those things she is more interested in. She comes up beside Abby, peering quickly at the card before she is able to tuck it away somewhere. Mmm. Reporter? Oh, yes. Huruma's palm finds the top edge of the girl's shoulder for just a moment, not doing anything aside from that. "I think I may ask that of you, after all. If jus't'get away from this weather…"

Maddie chuckles softly, and shakes her head, blonde curls bouncing on her shoulders. "No, no, I'm not here for a story, Ms. Beauchamp. It just seems like this a place where things happen and you could say I'm out site-seeing, you know what I mean? And you seem like someone who might be good to know. I know the press isn't always fair or objective, but I want you to know that I try to be. And I really do believe in getting out the information people need to know — and that means all people." She speaks with seeming sincerity, all bright-eyed altruism.

"You want the outside. Stuff happens outside. I'd wear a bullet proof vest if I were you though. Especially if you're going to hang around in the alley for a story" But for all that she's in a mood, she can't help it. A glance to Huruma's hand on her shoulder and a soft sigh that comes out her nose Abby nods. "If something ever happens, I tell you what, i'll give you a call so that you can at least get a headstart before the other reporters. Okay?"

Huruma's hand slips away as suddenly as it appeared warm on her shoulder. All she offers after the fact is a backwards glance before wandering out from behind the bar to do some rounds of the place- not to mention slip outside to check and see what exactly is physically around.

Maddie nods as she sips her drink. "I appreciate it. I don't expect exclusive interviews or anything like that. I just want to be sure that someone who isn't trying to cover up the government crap is on the story, too, you know? I'm sure my predecessors were of a different philosophy than I am, but I want to be sure that the whole truth is told to the public." She stands, only having finished half her drink. "It was nice meeting you." She gives another smile accompanied by a little wave before heading for the exit.

It's the last part that leaves Abigail //really frowning. She watches both women depart, one for outside, and the other for elsewhere in the bar. Make sure the government isn't covering up stuff. That was an odd thing to say. Abigail purses her lips before turning to Brenda. "I'm heading out. Picking up some stuff from upstairs. Staying at Liz's" She murmurs.

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