Go Fishing


abby_icon.gif odessa_icon.gif

Scene Title Go Fishing
Synopsis Odessa and Abby discuss having their abilities caught on camera, and the pitfalls and wonders of love. Abby actually gives relationship advice!
Date March 14, 2010

Old Lucy's - Upstairs

Though one might remember when a certain fiery woman lived here… Now the living area above Old Lucy's has changed hands. The open living room and kitchen are homey, a commingling of two people's tastes. The leather couch sits kitty corner to a one of red suede and a bit smaller. A large bird cage for it's budgie inhabitant takes up it's own corner beside dark paneled walls. Bookshelves with literary pieces of a variety both academic and not take up another small section.

The kitchen is large, with a rolling wood and black marble island to give more counter space to work on. Pots and pans hang from the roof and track lighting keeps it not gloomy. A proper oak dining table has been set up with matching chairs instead of the 70's castoff that the residents have been known to own and a bowl of fresh fruit sits in the center.

Down a hall lay's multiple doors. A master bedroom occupied by the oldest resident and occasionally have a pervading smell of whiskey and smoke coming from it when the door is open. A second door with a cross above it, a third with no marking that is occupied by the third resident of the premises. Two other doors lead to a linen closet and bathroom - Decorated in a very strong pirate theme - respectively. A black cat with a red velvet collar and a little Swarovski charm dangling from it can be found meandering at will.

One thing Odessa has fairly inept at is cooking, but she has discovered the fine art of cooking ramen, and so she sits in front of the television with a bowl of chicken flavour, eating with chopsticks. When she hears footsteps come down the hall from the direction of the bedroom she trades on and off with her landlady of sorts, Odessa doesn't even turn her head. Instead, she indicates toward the screen with the incline of her head and the but of her eating utensils. "Stupid helicopter," she half-mutters around a mouthful of noodles.

The television is playing the twelve o'clock news and today's top story is still the commotion on the Brooklyn Bridge from the evening previous. The scene playing out was shot from the Channel Six new chopper, and it displays the use of Odessa's ability in all its glory. In so far is it shows the mass shift of people from the blast zone to suddenly be out of the blast zone in the blink of an eye. Or switch of the frame.

Abby had a nightmare. Odessa's learning that this is not really an uncommon occurrence with the other blonde, and doesn't end up in screaming or fits. Just the young woman waking up in a sweat and needing to get up, get tea and calm before attempting to sleep again. Most everyone in the apartment has PTSD of some sort. The switch in shift thanks to last night has the woman off kilter, circles under eyes and coming out for that tea after having gone to sleep a few hours previous.

She pauses near the television to watch the unfolding action, spotting herself running up the very edge of the camera before she pads away from the TV in floral Flannel bottoms and white tank top. "You sound like me after someone youtubed me healing a guy hit by a car. At least they can't see your face" She helpfully suggests and points out as she makes to put tea on and drop her arms and head down onto the counter.

"That's true," Odessa admits, leaning back in her seat, rapt with attention for the broadcast. "I've never actually seen what my ability looks like to others before. No wonder people kind of freak out." Finally, she plants her chopsticks into her noodles and turns in her seat to look at Abby.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Comes muffled by the counter top from Abby.

Odessa lifts her brows in a sort of oh please expression. "You had another nightmare," she surmises. "I used to have them a lot when I was younger. Well, I still have them a lot. But when I was younger, and people actually cared about me, they would ask if I wanted to talk about them." She attempts something that's likely supposed to be a reassuring smile, but it looks somewhat awkward on her face for the moment. Like she's learning this whole sympathy thing on the fly. "It used to make me feel better. So, maybe it would make you feel better?"

"I talk to Doctor Agnes Yee about them and Hokuto. I've had them since Staten Island" Odessa doesn't know of Staten Island and it's not a talked about vacation spot in this household. "I'll be fine Odessa. I just need some tea. I had an onieromancer helping me but she's been pre-occupied with other things" and Teo can't help her. "You didn't get too badly hurt yesterday? I didn't think to ask when I came home this morning. On that topic" She lifts her head and then the rest of her to shuffle back to the kitchen doorway. "How's the withdrawal coming?"

"Wasn't hurt at all, actually. I know, I know - I shocked myself, too." Odessa's smile is a bit more genuine now as she sets her bowl of food aside for the time being, rising from her seat to stretch her limbs.

How's the withdrawal coming? "Well, it goes much better when I don't think about it," the temporomancer teases. "It's manageable. The muscles in my legs hurt like hell, but the nausea hasn't been too bad, so I'll be okay." One shoulder lifts in a half shrug, "I'm not gonna lie to you, I take a shot of whiskey when it gets really bad." With her injured hand, Odessa gestures to herself as a whole, "But I'm not wasted twenty-four-seven, so I'm hoping you'll trust me to temper."

"You can do it Odessa. You look put together and … I dunno, you just look put together, and the bruises and the like will go away" Away from the door she comes, easing down to sit beside the blonde physician with a motion to take the womans injured hand and peek at it. "I wish I still had the life Kami. I do. I wish I could take it and make your fingers whole again Odessa. I'm sorry for that" She's testing the joints, like Megan had showed her once to do, gentle as can possibly be with the temporomancer.

Odessa drops back into her chair quickly when Abby comes to sit next to her, offering her hand without protest. Beauchamp may not be a doctor, but she's got enough medical training that she'll trust her. Dark blue eyes screw shut in tandem with a hiss of breath as Abby tests her digits. "I have to admit, I'm exceptionally grateful for your help…" A small sound is quelled before it emerges from the back of her throat and makes her sound more pathetic than she already feels. Odessa forces herself to open her eyes. "I've broken these fingers before. But I had to tend to them myself. It's not a simple task, by any means. It's not easy to be cruel to yourself."

"Everyones grateful for my help. I'll tell you, the same thing I tell them. Don't thank me. Thank the lord who made me who I am and pass along the kindness to another person in need' She murmurs quietly, satisfied with the healing. "Make sure to have Francois look to make sure they are healing proper. He's much better than me at such things." He's a doctor as well, little out of date but the basics never really change. She leans back, pulling her feet up while waiting, watching the news unfold on the television.

"I meant it the other day. Please, don't go to or near Roosevelt Island. I can't tell you why, I don't know why myself, but … you didn't land on my doorstep for no good reason. Someone sent you to me Odessa. It perplexes me, as to why, but they did"

"I don't believe in God," Odessa murmurs. "But if that's your cup of tea, feel free to pass my thanks to you on up to him. That's between you and whatever it is you think is up there." Despite her non-belief, it doesn't seem as though Odessa faults or looks down on Abby for it.

When Abby tells Odessa that she knows someone sent her, she stiffens up just the faintest little bit, masking worry with a confused look until she realises exactly what the EMT means. A huff of laughter and a twitch of pale lips in what attempts to have been a smile and Odessa shakes her head. "I don't know about that. I just kind of… wander. And I end up places. Maybe it's fate. I don't know."

Abigail is oblivious to who sent Odessa to her, just knows that Hiro sent her to Odessa. And God is her cup of tea if the bible at bedside, cross above the door and her dislike of working Sundays is any indication. It will be service just before working for her tonight. "Maybe. Maybe it is fate" the younger blonde murmurs, peeling away from the couch when the water starts to whistle, glad to get away from the news and the dreary stuff that inevitably marches across the screen and the weatherman who is freaking out on screen.

"Oh look— SNOOOOOW!"

Abigail stares at the screen. "Lord help us, he's loosing it. Someone needs to tranquilize that poor man"

Odessa reaches out and dials down the volume on the television, brows knit together. "Poor bastard," she mutters, "'e's got a screw loose!" She does glance out the window, though. That is a lot of snow out there. She when snow used to excite her, how she would go dashing out into the white flakes and throw herself into banks and make angels. And she would smile up at her companion and—

Odessa looks down at the floor. "Can I ask you a sort of personal question?"

"Wouldn't be the first one you asked me" The water is pulled away from the stove, poured into a large mug of chamomile and then back to a cool element.

"That bloke you're seeing," Odessa begins, her language a holdover from a time spent with other people. "Do you love him?"

"I don't know Odessa. He and I, we've known each other for a year now but…" It's only of late that they've even thought of something other than Linderman rep helping a occasionally hard up defunct healer. "I like him. I know that. But once again, we move in very different circles and… we'll see I guess"

"Everybody I've ever thought I might love has died," Odessa laments in a soft voice. For all intents and purposes, Ethan as she knew him was death. Images of Wu-Long's corpse still haunt her at night, almost as much as memories of the last time she spoke to him. How she walked out on him, and maybe it's what got him killed. "That's not how it's supposed to work, is it? Aren't I supposed to live happily ever after?" They aren't supposed to love other women, either. Not that Odessa can blame Sylar for seemingly having gravitated for the far more level-headed and darkly beautiful Eileen. But in this moment, it makes her heart sick.

"Children are not supposed to die before their parents, nuclear bombs are not supposed to go off in the middle of cities and people are not supposed to be able to stop time with a thought" Abigail points out to odessa, emerging from the kitchen again. "Which is better. To know love and to have had it, or to never know it, and never have had it?"

"Life was simpler without love." Stormy eyes watch the television and the weather forecast, which calls for SNOW FOREVER, apparently. Monsters of snow storms. "I guess I don't know if I'd rather never have known it or not. The happiness… was delirious and dizzying, but it was just so brief. Sometimes I forget what it felt like at all." Except in her nightmares, right before it's snatched away from her again.

"Life is simpler without a lot of things Odessa. That brief love though, maybe it influenced you. Maybe having it for so short a time, did you good. Maybe, you have to bide your time till you find it again. Maybe.. Maybe there's not a prince out there for you but a princess" Abigail points out. This coming from the baptist with the straight/gay/bisexual roommates depending on who's in proximity and their state of undress or mood.

To say that Odessa never really considered the possibility that she might like women wouldn't be an unfair thing. It's just not something she ever really considered in the confines of her cage, and not something she ever gave the time to think about otherwise. It gives her pause. "I don't know. Maybe you're right." She brings her gaze back over to the other blonde and finally manages a smile, even if it's still tinged with sadness. "Thanks, Abby."

"Get your fishing pole and start fishing. There's men out there. Plenty of fish in the sea" She offers a smile to the woman before starting to plod off towards her room. She pauses though at the hallway, turning as if to say something, then thinking the better of it, retreats to her bedroom to leave the other woman in the silence, and not so silence, of the television.

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