Participants:
| Scene Title | He Said, She Said |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Tommy picks the wrong girl to try to mug, and their conflicting stories give Aude a headache when they show up out of thin air in the police station. |
| Date | October 9, 2009 |
Located off of Merrick and Baisley Boulevard, the Roy Wilkins Park is a plot covering just over fifty acres of land, with a number of features to entertain those from the very young to the very old. Boasting four outdoor tennis courts, a quarter mile jogging track that circles the rec center, and a wheelchair accessible basketball court, anyone visiting the massive park can find a reason to spend hours idling away their time. In addition to these features there is an indoor pool open all year round, and a number of baseball fields - two towards the northern area of the park with a smaller field towards the south end, in the Nautilus Playground, which is just south of a small pond.
For convenience of the park visitors, restrooms are located both in the playground and at the rec center. Pristine, with a relatively clean pond, the facility also hosts a summer day camp, a counseling center, and hosts a variety of community events. Along with the rec center and play areas, there is a jogging path and a series of picnic tables scattered throughout the park, complete with nearby barbecue grills for outdoor eating. Far more than an ordinary park or recreation center, the Roy Wilkins Park is a cultural landmark, home to the Black Spectrum Theatre, an acting troupe given to perform socially conscious drama. The most famous feature of the park, however, is the four acre vegetable garden that gives locals an opportunity to grow their own produce, which is often donated to charity.
Far from her normal stomping grounds in Greenwich Village, Tamsine is at Ray Wilkins park to make a delivery on the behalf of her parents — the former hippies run a very popular chain of organic grocery stores. Today the petite redhead has brought a supply of seeds and some gardening equipment to the public garden. Once she's chatted with some of the workers and volunteers there, she decides to take a walk around the park, enjoying the cloudy fall day. While the sky is gray with clouds, the weather is warm and balmy; Tamsine wears a russet-colored sweater dress that makes her red hair look all the more fiery. Her pale skin is warmed over by freckles. The warm colors of her hair and clothing contrast starkly with the cool green grass of the park and the gray gloom of the clouds.
She walks at a slow pace, enjoying the slight breeze, as she sips on a coffee bought at one of the ubiquitous vendor carts.
The park is a place to work, for Tommy at least. The kids are in school, so half his team is out of play, but that doesn't matter to an earner like T. He's in the park making money, or at least, keeping an eye on the crew that is. They've been coming up a little light lately, so he's working on figuring out which, if any of them, is pocketing the difference. Eyes on the prize, the over-the-hill thug is keeping an eye on the crew under the bridge, out of sight of police cameras, out of sight of rival crews. It's all about the benjamins, dontcha know?
Tamsine's not too good of a target. Sure, she carries a purse, but only because her dress has no pockets. The purse carries little besides her house keys, her subway card, her identification, and of course, her bright, shiny and new Registration card that lists her as a tier 1 Teleporter. She's a native New Yorker, so she's not too clueless, even if she's a touch naive — less and less every day of course, given her recent friendships. She has one hand on the purse, fingers curled around the strap, which is across her chest rather than loosely slung on one arm. Anyone with a knowledge of designers will not notice any particular make of her clothing or her handbag — she's no boutique shopper, and probably doesn’t have a lot of money in cash or credit.
Slingin' cane is the thug's main purpose, but he's not above doing a stick if the opportunity presents itself. Head on a swivel, Tommy spots the woman in the sundress headed his way. So it's out of the Yukon for the thug, and he sets up waiting for her, the lone victim who isnt' going to buy from him regardless.
When Tamsine's dark eyes alight upon Tommy, she doesn't grip her bag any tighter or make any sort of expression or gesture to indicate he bothers her. She tosses her empty coffee cup into a nearby trash receptacle and continues to continues to walk at her easy pace — it's still light out, there are people around — maybe none too close, but there's no reason to be concerned.
It might be light out, but there's /always/ reason to be concered. In Queens, at least. What with the crew that's raised stick-ups to an artform recently. But the thug just waits for the girl to get closer, no need to alarm the people who're wandering the park. The junkies might mind their own business when the shit hits the fan, but there's always that solid citizen who wants to mess things up.
Eventually her non-hurried steps in those knee-high boots that click upon the
concrete in an even rhythm bring her within speaking range of Tommy. This close, he might notice she's more than a teenager, but likely not by much — at least from the looks of it; most people put her around 21 when she is in fact thirty years of age. Her eyes meet his and she gives a slight, polite smile that one stranger gives another, to indicate that they've seen the other person. An acknowledgement of the other's presence.
An unlit cigarette hangs loosely from Tommy's lips, and he's patting himself down as he looks for a light. He steps forward into the girl's path, at least, that's the assumption he makes since he doesn't get a really good look at her, flicking up his thumb in that classic 'I need a light' gesture that's the same all over the world. 'Got fire,' he inquires as she get close enough.
She glances up at him with surprise. She doesn't look the type to smoke, does she? She smiles though. "Hold on, I might have a matchbook," she says, her voice sweet and clear. She reaches into her purse and rummages, then finally comes up with a book of matches, the front declaring, in a Gaelic script, "Biddy Flanigan's Irish Pub" above an Irish Claddagh symbol. "Here ya go," she says, handing him the small packet.
The thug is bundled against the cold somewhat, wrapped tightly in a puffy jacket with a hat tugged down low over his eyes. The matches are more a diversion than anything else, if he /really/ wanted to fire up this cig of his he'd just use the lighter tucked away in his pocket. He cracks off one of the paper matches, closing his eyes tightly against the sudden flare of light. A second's hesitation to let the sulfur burn off, and he's sucking hard on the Kool. 'Thanks,' comes a gravelly voice that tastes of smoke. 'Now how about the purse too.' His hand is stuffed deep in a pocket, and there just might be something in there. Want to really take that chance?
Tamsine's brows knit together — so much for being trusting. She takes a step backward. "You can have the money — there's nothing else of worth … just personal things, pictures of my d-daughter, she d-died," she begins, stuttering with the sudden chilling fear that encompasses her. Her eyes plead with the mugger, worried the purse isn't all he might be after; she takes another step backward, then turns to flee — in her eyes only, there is a rip in the fabric of space, showing her a familiar police station, a couple of people sitting in the lobby, a clerk behind the counter, the bustle of cops beyond the counter. She takes a hurried step forward, and suddenly appears in the station, through no door nor window, simply seeming to appear out of thin air.
Police Plaza One
It's the City, you'd think people would know better. Just hand over the loot and walk away, it's just another business transaction. But once in a while, someone gets stupid. Tommy's reaching for the purse as Tam makes her move, stepping back twice. He lunges, reaching for her arm to try and get control of the situation when she just… vanishes. There's a slow motion 'OOOOOOOOHHHHHH SHHHEEEEEEIIIIIIIT' as he tries to get his feet under him, but his momentum carries him through too. Good thing he hadn't drawn steel on her. Yet. he quickly assesses the situation, and stops himself. No sudden movements to get him gang-tackled by boys in blue. Hard eyes search the woman's face, committing features to memory, and he brushes past her on his way to the exit. 'We'll meet again,' he promises.
Requisite hours of sleep after a long shower makes for a grumpy Aude who's desk duty today instead of out at the municiple buildings and helping to look for survivors. Though by this point, it is likely to be dead individuals. So when carting a box of donuts in, Aude passes in front of the tesseract as Tamsine is coming through.
Up go the box of donuts and coffee that she was bringing in as women collide and there's a gasp from the petite african woman. "What the fuck!"
Tamsine yelps a little as coffee comes spilling on her — at least her dress is russet in color; the stains won't show as badly, though the scalded skin underneath might take a few days to de-pink. She whirls around to stare at Tommy, seeing those hard eyes, that vow to get her. "I… he … " — and then something snaps. Part of her was willing to let him get away; she just wanted to get to a safe place, let him flee. But the anger and fury of everything that has gone wrong in her life in the past year has a breaking point, and this just might be it. "He was about to mug me. I teleported. He followed. We were in Queens," she says in a rush to Aude.
Hands out of pockets so he doesn't seem like a threat, the aged thug makes for the door. Not so quickly that it looks like he's running, but he moves with purpose. Chin held high, Tommy makes eye contact with the desk sergeant and offers up a jaunty smirk. His hands are moving with purpose, tugging the arms out of his jacket and turning it inside out so that instead of mostly black it's mostly silver, stuffing his hands into it as he does his best to change his visual profile. He whistles a little tune as steady fingers move up to tug off his hat and stuff it deep into a pocket. To someone who hasn't seen him, he probably looks like just another thug who couldn't be held for lack of evidence. But he's not out the door. Yet…
Not out the door and came from behind Tamsine through the tesseract. It was this woman again. The teleporter that her stupid evo former partner had a hard on for. "Hey you!" Aude's scalded by coffee as well, not in the mood to deal with this but it's landed in her lap. Literally. Forward she walks, to put a hand on Tommy's shoulder. "Pardon me sir. The lady here says that you were attempting to rob her, in queens" Brows up the african american woman looks up at him.
"Sorry for the coffee," Tamsine says in her clear voice, no longer stuttering with fear. She bends down to begin picking up the spilled doughnuts, setting the box with still edible doughnuts that didn't touch lobby tile on the counter, and then using her hands to clear the others, bringing them to a trash can. "And doughnuts." She glances back at Tommy and Aude, brushing her hands of powdered sugar.
He's not your typical gangbanger who'd beat feet at a hand on the shoulder. Eyes dart up over the desk sergeant to the NYPD shield that shows the precint, and before he's even shrugged the hand off his shoulder and turned aroudn to face the woman accosting her and size her up. He swallows to get the lump out of his throat, and with the cool confidence of someoen who lies more than truth's, responds, 'Queens? Dis ain't Queens.' he shakes his head, jerking his thumb towards an elevator. 'O'Malley had me up in Homicide grillin' me about some shootin' the other day.' Every precinct has an O'Malley, and ina city like this, tehre's always an open case. 'He ain't got shit on me, so he cut me loose.'
"Well congratultions, your now in the financial district and you tried to supposedly rob a teleporter. Congratulations. Don't go anywhere" Aude keeps her hand on Tommy and glares over her shoulder at Tamsine even as the woman's picking up donuts and coffee. "what exactly happened?"
"We were at Roy Wilkins. He asked for a light, then my purse. He had his hand in his pocket like he might have a gun - be careful," Tamsine says, her chin raised a bit defiantly as she glares at Tommy. "And she knows I'm a teleporter, and she knows people can follow me through, so the whole 'how in the world can I be here if I was supposed to be in Queens' argument is not going to fly." She turns to Aude, and shakes her head of red hair. "I'm really sorry, I don't mean to keep being a problem, Officer Castalides," she says earnestly. "I just… I knew it wouldn't be safe if I ported home, because he might follow into my house, so this was the first place I thought of." She turns to look at Tommy again.
"You are a thorn in my side Whitaker" Aude inhales through her nose, looking to Tommy. "Okay, smarty pants. You want to pass over any weapon or are you gonna make me get jordan over there to come and pat you down?" She's female, she can't do it that's for sure. "Are you officially planning on pressing charges Ms. Whitaker? You seem to have your purse, but we can do the usual, if you like" Please don't waste my time you god damned evo woman. Bad enough one of your kind already destroyed a building and I spent my last three days hauling bodies out. All internal dialogue of course and tommy can see the reluctance on the officer face at wanting to draw him up on any charges.
The thug shrugs again to get the little woman's hand off his shoulder, or at least get in a position to ditch the coat should he decide to flee through the door. 'I know I ain't in Queens,' Tommy says. 'This is 1PP, and I just came downstairs from Homicide,' he reiterates. 'Call up and talk to O'Malley, tell him you got Steve Jenkins on some bullshit robbery rap in Queens and he'll tell you I was up there all afternoon in the box.' Sticking to his story like he was always told. 'As for a weapon, I ain't got shit. Nuthin but a screwdriver I use to take uot screws now an' again.' He reaches, slowly, into the opposite pocket, and pulls it out by the handle. Close observation would tell Tamsine that it's /not/ the side he had his hadn in. But fortunately, it's turned inside out and the piece is now in an inside pocket.
The redhead knows how this is going to go. There was no actual crime that took place. "I guess the most he'd get is assault," she says with a sigh. She used to be a social worker. She knows how hard it is to get charges to stick. Assault would be nothing more than maybe a day or two in jail, possibly community service, unless there's a warrant out for other crimes. "You might want to check his ID or fingerprints, see if anything pops up," she adds ever-so-helpfully. "But like I said, I was really just trying to get away." She looks at Tommy, a stern look in her dark brown eyes. "You didn't have to follow. You would still be in Queens if you hadn't chased me."
"Listen sir. I know what I saw. I saw Ms. Whitaker here appear through nothing followed by you popping in behind her. I ain't lived here enough to not know a bald faced lie when I hear one and see one" Then Tamsine is telling her what to do. Her back is to the woman but Tommy can see that it raises her hackles. "I'll be sure to do my job Ms Whitaker. Come on Tommy boy, get your butt over there. Joradn!" She yells across the room. "I got a guy needs a patting down, and paperwork for Ms. Whitaker. Wants ot file a complaint. Assault. Lets get stuff read for Steve here"
The petite african looks over to Tamsine. "You know the drill, go get a pen, make my life hell with more paperwork"
Oh, now that's a different kettle of fish. 'I din't assault no one.' Now his visage changes, and it carries the ring of truth. Cuz, well, he didn't. 'No fuckin' way.' He stiffens, glaring at the woman who's got him in trouble, from his point of view, and shakes his head. 'This shit ain't gonna stick and you know it. I din't lay a hand on you!' This outburst carries the ring of truth, not the too-smooth lies that he was dropping before to try and talk his way out of it. 'If she's charging me with assault, I want her charged with kidnapping. I ain't here of my own volition. She /maked/ me come here. I just wanted a light for my goddam smoek.' He raises it to his lips and takes a puff before dropping it to the ground and stomping on the butt. Huh, smoknig in a city building, looks like there could be another charge.
Tamsine sighs a little. She really just wanted safety, not a police and paperwork nightmare. She goes to the counter to wait for the pen and the paperwork. She avoids Tommy's eyes; she knows he will seek revenge if he can. And the officer keeps repeating her name, so he can memorize it and find out where she lives. At Tommy's outburst, however, she turns around, anger in her eyes. "There's a difference between assault and battery and just assault, sir. Assault is the threat of harm, whether or not harm was actually enacted. If I felt physically threatened by you, which I did, you did in fact commit assault." Her words are icy, though her cheeks flare with a pink heat.
Not to mention littering… since he just ground out a butt on the floor, if she was being particularly anal. "Tell you what, she can fill out the paperwork for assault and you sir, can fill out the paperwork for kidnapping. And i'll let the other people sort it out since i'm not even on god damned duty yet" Johnson's making his way over. "Pat em both down, take statements and we'll see how things go from there. She wants to charge him with assault, that he tried to rob her, he's claiming kidnapping since she portaled over here from queens and he ended up coming along for the ride"
The other cop just looks like someone's pissed in his cornflakes over this. "Riiiiight" JOhhnson says.
'All I asked that cunt for was a light, adn she gimme one!' He stuffs his hand into his pocket way too fast, adn probably gets the hard eye from at least a half-dozen officers. 'Whoa, whoa, whoa,' he repeats and his hand comes out /slowly/, holding a pack of paper matches with a 'Biddy Flanigan's Irish Pub' label above an Irish Claddagh symbol. 'Dust dis shit, it on her prints all up on it. Does dat look like th'kind of place that someone like me goes?' he shakes his head emphatically, 'I just asked for a light, and she gimme one. Don't try to pin this shit on me cuz she can't tell us nigga's apart in BROAD DAYLIGHT!' He's getting loud, attracting a /lot/ of attention. 'Maybe someone did threaten her, but it sure as fuck wasn't me! Gimme a mothafuckin' polygraph, I don't give a shit. I didn't do SHIT'
"I didn't want to press charges," Tamsine points out, shaking her head when she hears kidnapping. "They don't need to 'dust' that, I don't deny giving it to you," she adds with a roll of her eyes toward Tommy. "Officer. I was in Wilkins Park to donate some gardening supplies. He asked me for a light, so I gave him the matches. Then he asked for my purse, and I ran. That's it. That's the whole story. I came here. He followed through." She drops the pen. "Look, I won't press charges, but I didn't do a goddamn thing wrong here. Why the hell would I kidnap someone to a police station?"
"Then what the hell exactly do you both want to do then because right now, you're wasting our time. You ran in case he wanted your purse, fair enough, you came here, again, fair enough, safe place, whatever. And you" Aude wheels on Tommy. "Mr. Jenkins. Don't use the nigger word. You should know better. You ran after her, or fell after her or what have you, but you got a light, and you got a smoke, so I'd suggest maybe that you better count your blessings and think twice about following behind people hmmmm? For all you know, she could have been a pyro and we've had our fair share of pyro's here"
Aude crosses her arms and looks between the two. 'So, we have an issue here. What are we going to do?"
'I figure she tried to grab the right guy and missed!' This is a story he can sink his teeth into, and the thug is getting louder by the second. 'Why th'fuck woudl I be trying to rob a white bitch in broad day?' His hand dips into his jacket quickly, again, and comes up with a fat 'gangsta' roll of bills. 'I don't need her chump change!' He scowls at the tiny woman trying to school him. 'I din't say "nigger", cop, I said 'nigga'. You should know the difference.' The fat stack is poked away in a pocket, and he looks between the white woman who's name he's memorized, and the cop who's stuck in the middle. 'She needs to think twice about grabbing random people and popping them to cop stations.'
Tommy tugs a pack of Kool's from a pocket and taps one out with the ease of long habit. 'I ain't got no issue. She drops her shit, I drop mine…' A sage nod as he tears a paper match from the pack he was holding up as evidence. 'And I want a ride to Queensbridge.'
"It's dropped. Just be careful who you try to mug in the future. You are lucky I'm something that can't harm you," Tamsine all but growls, all the sweetness gone from her usually clear and resonant voice. "Like I said, the most it would be is assault," she tells Aude, and they both know assault is nothing, not even worth the ink in the pen to fill out the paperwork. "Thank you for your assistance, Officer." Tamsine reaches into the purse for some chump change, putting a twenty on the counter. "To pay for your coffee and doughnuts. I apologize for wasting your time." With that, she walks past Tommy to stride out of the lobby.
"Like hell you're getting a ride to queens. Get the hell out of here and get on a bus, what do we look like, a taxi service? You have the money for it" THe twenty tamsine lays down is plucked up and stuffed away in a pocket. "Think twice next time Mr. Jenkins about who you ask for a light for your smoke. You never know what punk Evo might try to make swiss cheese out of you for looking funny at em" Both people not gonna press charges, yipee, a good day for her and everyone else. She eyes tommy though, watching him.
The thug knows better than to press the issue, it's got as much chance of backfiring and getting him patted down with an illegal piece in his pocket as it does of getting him a ride home. Shoulders rolls in a half-shrug as he nods to the passing Tamsine, loudly declaring 'I dint mug no one, Ms. Whitaker.' That much is true, it was just an attempt, and a failed one at that. 'I'm gettin' me the fuck outta here before someone else tries to bounce me somewhere.' he chews on the butt of his Kool as he heads out, barely gettign outside the door and into the Plaza before destroying some 'evidence' and firing up the butt. On his phone quickly, Tommy arranges for someone to meet him and get him the hell outta here. In the meantime, he spends a few seconds in a phone booth, tearing out the pages containing WHIT to WHIV. Looks like he's got revenge on his mind.