abby_icon.gif julian_icon.gif

Scene Title Figures
Synopsis Opposites attract! Or at least have amicable conversations. Julian goes hunting for information on Isabelle's healer girl.
Date January 8, 2009

Old Lucy's

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.

Healed arm, devoid of black threads means Abby's fit to get back to work. Clean clothes, Niki's shower, and some rest menas that, the wheels are turning in the angelic blonde's head as the people start to come in after work is over, but before dinner. She's stacking glasses behind the bar while rock music blares. Her end of the bar getting set for the evening to come. The nun of Old Lucy's is back in service.

It's a bar Julian's been in before if he wants a free drink, which is most of the time, to be honest - but even then, he doesn't come here very often at all. Very likely, it's thanks to the crowd such a place generates, and a man like Julian isn't the best at crowds, perhaps for reasons even apart from his ability. He moves through the patrons just starting to gather for the evening, dressed in layered clothing best suited for the wintery outdoors, a red scarf wrapped about his neck, high up to his chin. His hands are in fingerless woolen gloves and even then, he keeps them in his pockets as he navigates his way up to the bar. He's pale, perhaps even sickly, but nothing visibly wrong with him for once.

Abby see's him in the mirror that's behind the bar. So it is that the blonde turns, flipping the bar towel to drape over her shoulder. "Hi. Welcome to Old Lucy's. My name's Abby, what can I get for you?" It's just him at her end. The regular know she's notorious for being not as fast as the other bartenders, so she can afford to make some small talk.

Oh how fortunate! A thin smile highlights this thought as the American-Irishman loosens his scarf from his neck, letting it hang casually. "Nice t'meet you, Abby," he says, hazel eyes sweeping over her with a gaze slightly more scrutinising than it lets on. Force of habit. "I'm Julian and a double-scotch and dry would be wonderful, thanks." His voice is a haphazard mix reflecting his heritage - Belfast mixed with something that sounds straight from Brooklyn.

"Double scotch, dry" She offers him one of her friendlys miles and gets down to making it. She's straight fromt the south, that's easy enough to discern with her drawl. "Got ID?" She has to ask and points to a sign above the bar. Look under thirty, they'll card you, please don't be pissed, it's the law. But she's making it anyways. He doens't look like some high school kid. Doesn't look as young as her, who certainly doesn't look old enough to drink.

Julian would certainly consider himself to look adult enough to not warrant an ID check, and his shoulders slump under his coat a little when she asks for it. Still, he takes out a slim leather wallet and starts rifling through it, and peeks at the ID hidden within it.

Which says his name is actually Clyde O'Riley. Damnit, Claire. Easier to blame "Bonnie" for the mishap, rather than himself for not introducing himself with his apparent, new identity. But these things are hard to keep track of.

He closes the wallet rather than offer the fake card, and gives Abby a wince. "Not on me. But I'm 27, y'know."

Her hand is on the scotch, eyeing him then nods. "Bring it with you next time. I'd rather not get a fine for serving someone underaged. Though i'm inclined to believe your not underaged" She uncaps the golden liquid, pours it, then passes it over, naming the price for the drink. "You'll be able to pay though, won't you?"

"'Course." A few crisp notes that would cover the drink and tip are taken out of his wallet and slid across the bar for her to pick up for herself, not about to let his bared fingertips get near skin, and Julian takes a seat there, drawing his drink in closer. "Cheers, you're an angel. I'm a friend of Isabelle's, by the way. You been workin' here a long time?"

'Since it opened" The money's taken, the proper amount punched into the till and tip shoved into a jar on the back before she turns to him. "Not an angel, That's one of the others. I'm the nun. Besides, If you didn't have enough, I woulda paid for it. For at least that one. How do you know Isabelle?" Since he's staying there, Abby doesn't go back to stacking, instead bringing up a bowl of whole lemons and limes so she can star the process of slicing them up. Corona's and tequila won't be the same without them.

One corner of his mouth turns up a little at her answer, but otherwise Julian just nods, bringing his drink up to sip. "Common int'rest, mainly," Julian answers. "An' Izzy's kind enough to treat me t'free drinks also, I just don't come round here as often as I should. Usually hittin' Irish bars which'll come as a shock t'you, I'm sure. Y'don't seem like the type to get up on bars and dance around, if y'don't mind me saying."

"I should introduce you to Hagan. he's one of my regulars. He's irish as well. You both sorta talk the same" She keeps slicing through the lemons, making small wedges. "I'll toss your name at Isabelle when she comes down and if she seconds what you say, then i'll know next time not to charge you" She slides a wedge to him, of lemon, in case he's one of the rare people who actually likes to suck on them. "I don't. I leave the dancing and holding onto those poles for the others. Isabelle's a good employer. She pays better than the nite owl, doesn't make me hang my chest out or get up on the bar and dance. Which is fine with me" Abby leans forward, not enough to get close to him. 'And she doesn't complain when I'm not fast enough in getting drinks out"

The lemon slice is mostly toyed with, letting it rest on the flat surface on the curved rind side and spinning it with his fingers as Abigail talks. Julian doubts he can smoke in here so like most people who have the habit, he applies his fidgeting to something else. "Sounds like she took a shinin' to you, then," he says. "I might just know Hagan also. Dubliner, hair like a bird's nest. We must run in the same pack've friends an' all." It's warm in here and so he chances the taking off of his gloves, hands about as pale as the rest of them, fingers long and rather dextrous as he resumes fidgeting, other hand clasping protectively around his drink. "Come to think've it, I reckon he might've mentioned you. Says you did him a favour."

Well, you can't blame her if suddenly she's a little guarded now. "Smokes like a chimey and drinks like a fish? I did. I owed him. He kept me from being a central park popsicle…" Abby licks her lips and drops her voice. "Do.. you need help?" Worry in her voice, concern.

"Me? Nah," Julian says, with a brisk shrug. "Hagan's a mate, I should just be thankin' you and movin' on, really. As for smokin' like a chimney, he doesn't anymore, not since what you did. Practically a changed man. You do that often, then?" He has the courtesy to lower his voice a little as he adds, "Heal people?"

"I do" Abby answers. "Did he tell you that?" Abby reaches below, grabbing an ashtray and popping it out in front of Julian. She's worked here enough. She can see that he's fidgiting and it's probably not because he has to go to the bathroom. "I really hope he's not walking around and telling people what I can do" She'd need to have a chat with Hagan. She looks mildly unhappy, at the potential of a blabbering irishman but it soons passes. She can't do anything about it right now. "Do you have a friend who needs my help?"

He looks down at the ashtray, pauses, and then sets about extracting a lighter and a pack of Camel with a twitch of a thankful smile to the blonde. Lighting up, Julian shakes his head. "He's not," he says. "I sort've have a talent too, is all. I can— " A pause, a very quick inner debate occurs as he breathes out a lung full of smoke, before he starts again. "I can tell what's wrong with people. The man was a walkin' advert for the negative affects of cigarettes and drink, y'know? I could sense 'im a mile off. I asked, he told." No need to have Hagan be reluctant for giving him useful tidbits, after all, but Julian can't do much if Abby chooses to tell him off anyway, so he lets it go. "No, I don'. The friends I have generally don't need that sort've thing. I was a wee bit curious as to how it worked, though."

"he was pretty… bad. He knows it too. I don't know how bad but, it's gone and that's what matters. He'll have another 20 years of building it all up again" She doesn't mind that he's smoking now, heck, she can fix that. "As for how it works… God" Spoken with a completely serious look on her face.

Definitely not the answer Julian was looking for, and he squints at her for a moment as if trying to gauge out the real answer, but alas. She is indeed serious. "God makes it work," he says, nods once, and takes another deep sip of scotch and dry. "Mighty kind've 'im. But I mean in the physical sense. Like I can see y'got a recent battering or something to your pretty face from here, don't take much more'n looking."

"I lay on hands Julian. I'm a faith healer. I pray, ask god to heal, and he does, through me. I make a person whole. I can remove cancer, regrow a limb, knit bone, the list can go on. I can't fix blood loss, or any diseases in the blood. I don't know why, but that's how it is" She leans against the counter again, blonde hair over her shoulder in a ponytail. "everything back to where it's supposed to be, to how it should be. Not a trace" Abby cants her head to side, studying him. "Your gift? Told you about my… face?"

Perhaps he should have brought along Claire, he trusts her better to take mental notes and retain important information, but this will do. This being a little why Julian doesn't automatically shy away from her questioning - she readily offered up information, he can give a little in return. "Yeah. Like injuries seem— weak, I guess. I can see the weaknesses in people, animals. And sicknesses, too, those feel dirty." A shrug. "I can keep a secret if you can. I figure, if Izzy likes you well enough, I can trust one've her's."

Abby says, "My nose, and cheeks" She's thoughtful at that. "Watch then, with your… gift" Abby closes her eyes, murmuring under her breath. A few moments, and then she tries again, something shorter murmured before she smiles, letting the feeling wash over herself. She never properly paid attention to herself, not when it came to healing, just to the point where it wasn't visible anymore. So as it is, over a few moments, she works at her nose and her cheeks, letting the bone and cartiledge seal proper, smooth out any scars, leave not a single trace for julian.

Julian sits in confused silence, then rather abruptly, more suddenly so than the slow progression of her ability would suggest, he sits a little straighter. "Fuck me," he says. "That's handy, isn't it." There's something like wistfulness in his voice, and he polishes off his drink, the remnants of ice clinking against glass as he sets it back down, and he ashes his cigarette. "Figures. You sure y'need to use your hands?" He wasn't going to ask, but seeing it— sensing what she can do, well, it moves him to make sure.

"Skin to skin, I have to touch in some fashion" there's a pause and a smile spreads as something clicks in her mind. "I could heal with a kiss I suppose, so not just my hands, but usually, I use my hands. Easier. It comes in handy, yes. It's a pain in the ass sometimes, makes me prone to being kidnapped when someone wants and doens't ask. Just takes me and gods gift along for a merry ride till they don't need me anymore. Then toss me out to carry on with life" No bitterness in her tone. She grabs a rag and starts to wipe down where she chopped the lemons, spread the citrus scent a bit. "Why does it figure?"

"Figures that y'can use it on y'self," Julian says, putting out his cigarette a little pre-emptively. As if that would help with his own internal damage done by the habit. To his credit, he's no where near the Hagan scale of epic smoking. "Sorry to hear about the kidnappings, anyway. A wee bit superfluous, if you ask me, you seem nice enough."

"You need me to.. do what I did for Hagan, for you?" It's offered by the healer. "No strings, same as him. I can't do it right now, because I still have the rest of the night and i'd need a rest after. But I could do it. And yes, I can, but I don't like to. It feels like.. taking advantage of His gift. But, someones pointed out lately that I can't help other to the best of my ability and do Him justice, if i'm walking around with a gunshot in my shoulder"

Julian's nose wrinkles when she makes her offer, and pale hands grip the edge of the bar as he levers himself up to stand. "That's quite alright," he dismisses. "Somehow I reckon y'get enough people wandering by and askin' for your godtouch." He glances towards her shoulder, then the other, as if trying to pick up traces of the wound she speaks of now, and while it might spring forth if he pulled the metaphorical trigger, it doesn't reveal himself to his senses. Huh.

"Left one. Big hospital bill. Till I woke up. Muggings suck. Friendly fire, sucks even worse" She doesn't press it though, noticing that he keeps his distance. "stay put, just a sec" and she turns, digging up one of the business cards from the stash of old Lucy ones. The blonde writes down a number, and her first name, sliding it over towards him on the counter top and takes her hand away. "I offer this, to everyone. God places people before me, who he wants me to heal. If you need help, call. Leave a message if I don't answer. I'll do my best. If you know i'm coming, and it's convenient, have some coffee on hand"

Irony. Julian looks down at the card, considers whom he could give it to. Claire? Definitely not. Hagan? Knows the girl already. Izzy? Employer. Rupe? He hesitates, thinking that one over for a moment, before he lifts his hands to adjust the scarf around his neck. "I don't think there'd be much y'could do for me, love," he says, sliding the card back towards her and being quick to withdraw his hand once he does. "Save it for another unfortunate soul."

"Take it. You never know when you will come across someone who needs me. I know the streets enough Julian" It's slid back across to him. "Please" Abby watches him. "It's what I do when not putting whiskey in cups for people who forget thier ID"

Heeesitates, before finally picking up the little rectangle of cardboard with a scrape of his fingertips, tucking the card into a pocket somewhere. "As you please," Julian says, with a brief half-smile. "You'll prob'ly see me more often scorin' free drinks off you ladies here than draggin' injureds in for you to do your thing, but it's appreciated."

'That's just as good. Better. means I don't drink as much redbull. Take care Julian" Abby grins. 'I'll tell isabelle you stopped by. Go.. take care of yourself" She gives him a little wave before, now, she finally goes back to finishing up stocking for the night.

"Yeah. You also," Julian says, and offers her a wave even as he turns away. Hands back in his pockets, he does his usual sort of shrinking in on himself as he moves back through the bar's space, which is every increasing in crowd as the night delves into its more active hours.

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