Participants:
| Scene Title | I'm Not Here For The Book |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Cat comes bearing a wedding gift for Abby, a blender, and curiosity about a journal to be satisfied as well as catching up on things. |
| Date | October 9, 2009 |
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.
It's been some time since she spoke with Abby. Between then and now, things have happened. Among them are receiving that check and the visit she and Helena paid to Hokuto Ichihara. Cat has meant to come see Abby sooner than this, but life does often complicate things. She is, as usual and by design, a fairly busy woman.
But the time of visitation does come. She steps up to the front door of Old Lucy's at about 13:38 on this particular Friday and opens it, then steps inside. There's a wrapped gift in her hands, something her memory says would be fitting for Abby and takes a quiet look around for the proprietress.
Lunch crowd has left, which means stocking up for the after work crowd. Natalie the blonde hydro is behind the counter and when Cat makes an appearance, there's a motion to the other end of the counter and the top of a red head that moves up, down, back and forth behind the counter in tune to the clicks of bottles being organized.
"Boss lady, person's here to see you."
Which prompts two blue eyes to surface along with the red curly hair to spy Cat. "Hey. Out here? Back room? Upstairs?" Cat never comes just to visit. Cat comes with purpose. "Pint?"
She lets a quiet grin show, tempted to do this out in the front area, but decides to spare Abby and heads for the back room. Very little is said, except to take the offer of alcohol. "Stout is good, yes. Thanks." Moments later, she's stepping through to go back there unless someone or something prevents her.
It's perhaps odd, this. Cat is rarely a grinning person. Why is she grinning? And what's up with the wrapped gift she's carrying?
Old Lucy's, Back Room
This back room looks more like a living room than just a plain old back room. There are a few armchairs placed about the room and a black rug is in the middle of the room, on top of the rug is a big table with a few chairs around it as well. In a corner of the room is a flat screen TV on the wall.
Cat's left alone in the furnished back room for a few minutes till Abby sidles in with a frosty bottle for the brunette. "You got the check, I suppose, yes?" Red head has looked better before, and she's looked worse. Worrying about 'Deckois', classes, Magnes on the radio and the state of the city these days. Did she mention the asshole benevolent healing gift in control of the guy she's screwing?
"What's with the present? My twenty-first isn't until January, Cat." She's got a brown bottle in her own hand, the glass forming the letters ICB which means it's root beer.
"I did," Cat replies as Abby walks in. The item she carried has been set down, her hands are empty. A few steps are taken, she attempts to hug the woman with red hair. "Congratulations, Abby," she offers with that grin still in place. "I wouldn't have thought it like you to elope, but…" Her voice trails off.
Arms enfold Cat's back, holding tight a moment or two before they're not feeling quite right around the panmnesiac at the utterance of 'elope'. "Right, elope. In what world, Cat, do I seem like the kind of woman who would elope? I'm not even dating anyone anymore. Lord on high woman, my Dah and Momma would have me tied up and head on the chopping block if I even thought of such a thing and I fear that more than… what happened on the bridge"
Abigail pulls back, puzzled, and displays her hands lacking rings save for the one on her forefinger of her right hand that is interlocking silver rings with religious wording inscribed on them. "Where on earth did you get that idea?"
"I was at a bookstore on Roosevelt Island," Cat relates, "and the woman there said she knew you. That you'd been there with your husband." She takes a backward step, breaking the embrace, and takes in Abby's expression. "I thought it was odd, but then again anything's possible," she opines.
"I'd meant to come see you earlier and congratulate, but time got away from me."
"Oh lord love a duck. Hokuto." There's a purse of pink lips. "I did not come in with my husband, my boyfriend, nothing. I'll be sure to stop by and point that out to her when I'm heading home in the morning." Because her classes end at 9:30 and she can't go home due to curfew, but she won't miss her classes. "I am very much single Cat and unattached. The man I came in with was not my husband or my boyfriend" Assured, and since when does Abby lie? Rarely. Really.
She lets out a chuckle. "I couldn't resist, it was too priceless. Although you and Flint as a couple isn't that farfetched. You do share a bond of sorts." Cat takes her bottle of stout and drinks from it for a few seconds as she moves to lean against something. "How've you been?"
"Only thing we share is the gift." And the really occasional night. But that's changing, oh yes it is. "I'm tired. I'm glad you all didn't burn down the bar the other night. I heard there were strippers." Not her type of entertainment. "I'm… sad. Sonny died, the municpal building. Lord, every time I turn around, there's someone I know who's passed." Abigail shakes her head and looks over to Cat as she eases down onto the couch with her root beer. "How are you, Cat?"
Her tone is somber as she replies. "Well enough," Cat tells her. "Busy, as usual. The party. It wasn't the best of times to have it, given what went on, but… One of the things I've learned is making use of time available and celebrating what's there to celebrate. Otherwise we just let tragedy eat us alive."
"Yes, there were strippers," Cat shares wistfully, "one male and one female. The guy was interesting, but the woman, well… She wasn't hard to look at, but…" Eye contact with Abby is made.
"She doesn't compare. No woman does."
"Doesn't compa-" Oh. Right. Cat digs women. Abby can ride with that. "It's been… near a year, hasn't it. You miss her a lot still?"
"Her twenty-seventh birthday would've been the thirtieth," Cat replies. "And I do. I can't not miss her. Lots of things are both gift and curse. Never having to worry about forgetting where I put my keys or some crucial detail of a business matter, it's good beyond belief."
"But loss doesn't fade. It's all as fresh as if I'd just seen her five minutes ago." And to think about it, so are the remembered screams as Ethan amputated her thumb a few feet away.
Silence settles in for a few moments as she forces that from mind. Fingers go into a pocket and pull out a key which she sets on a box nearby. "I'm sorry about the joke. I thought about making mention of Flint and you on a wedding night, but stopped myself. That might've taken it too far." A hint of a smile returns, suggesting her intent is to make Abby laugh.
She doesn't touch the topic of Dani. She hadn't know the other woman, didn't know cat that well really. She'd spent time chained to a bed in Brooklyn while Cat and Dani were.. somewhere, being tortured by Ethan. "You seriously bought us a present though?" Her eyes flick to the wrapped box. "Flint is… He is not the marrying type, much less the boyfriend, dating, significant other type. I think you're safe in never investing in a set of china for me or him. I just brought him so Hokuto could read his cards was all. Even that didn't go so well, it being Flint."
Fail. Abby isn't laughing. Ah, well. She moves on. "Hokuto's readings were interesting. Turns out I'd seen her before, when I was sixteen. She was at one of Mother's parties in Hartford with her father, so I need to ask about her. Find out whether that was a society link, or if the link was something from Father's, or Mother's, work with the Company. I can't figure out Hokuto's ability, though. Says she has one, but claims it isn't precognition. She says the cards are just cards." The wrapped box is left where it is, she doesn't comment on it. Abby will find out by opening it, or not.
"It was odd, when Helena and I got there Hokuto seemed angry. Accused us of being after a book she didn't have."
"She's not a precog. You've met her though, so, I suspect you'll find out soon enough what she can do. It's very…" What is Hokuto's gift really. "It's very helpful. She's used it to to help me. John Logan doesn't have rightly the same hold on me that he does these days, thanks to her." That should leave the other woman inquiring and she knows now really why Cat came over. "She has a lot of books. Was there a particular book that she didn't have that she thought you might be coming for? And angry is different. Usually she's passed out and asleep or she's in some dark corner of the store and cursing at the electrcity."
"Helena mentioned the life and death kamis, and it seemed to trouble Hokuto," Cat replies. "Said we were the third group to come looking for a book she'd already given to others. We weren't," she shares. "Helena's concern was over the nature of the death kami itself, she sought a reading plain and simple. That's how you got mentioned, you and Flint. Said you'd been looking for the book and were directed to Eileen."
Here Cat chuckles again. "And it's where she said she thought you and Flint were married, or at least boyfriend and girlfriend. You seemed to her like a married couple."
"I'm not here for the book, though. If it were something I needed to see, I'm sure you'd have told me already. If I need to see it in the future, I'd just ask. This isn't all about business." Which means there is business involved to some degree.
"Neither of us were looking for it. She just happened to give it to Eileen and after a reading, and a couple visits, thought maybe that the book in question should have gone to me instead of Eileen. I left a message for Eileen requesting a copy of it. Which she made. The book is the journal of Francois Allegre. Who is either one really egotistically stuck up asshole, or maybe it's just the benevolent ability itself, because let me tell you, I'm right ready to actually never get that darned thing back if it means It's going to be looking over my shoulder all the time when I'm doing things."
Abigail actually looks… pissed off right now. "It has no concept that perhaps I wanted it back in me but no, it just prattles on about it telling me what it wants me to know and that it at least is secure in the knowledge that Francois chose right 16 years ago." Jaw tightens and she looks away from Cat and toward her own dark bottle. "Prick. Give it up in my heart since I couldn't give it up in truth."
An eyebrow raises as Abby speaks of this. It's a surprise, but perhaps shouldn't be, given other things she's seen. Cat gives consideration to things observed in the death kami's current host, but opts not to. "Odd that the spirit didn't behave this way when you hosted it," she muses.
"The kami is in control of Flint now? I came across a man with some burns, I'm hoping to arrange a meeting between them."
"I don't know. Flint's the one who answers and sometimes it's the French jerk who answers. Says it's only to help Flint, that he needs it." Abigail's hand rubs at her temples. "I'll let him know that you're looking. Tell him to get a hold of you. If he's talking half French and doesn't look right, it means it's it at the … steering wheel so to speak. Calls itself just Memories. Nothing more. Least he's taking better care of Flint than Flint did of himself." Deckois won't let Flint get to the state that he was in, is in.
"Because I didn't need it's help. That's why. Supposedly. God on high Cat… it calls me its former vessel. I'm not a vessel, I'm a person! And I know HOW to get it out of Flint, away from Flint. It'll just be a matter of whether Flint wants to pass it back to me or not." She tips the brown bottle back to suck down the contents.
As Abby speaks, corresponding images play out in Cat's mental vision. Peter at the most recent visit, how it at times seemed Kazimir was at the wheel, and sometimes Petrelli. Of Petromir backhanding Helena and Helena instantly making him fly into a wall as her response.
"That has to be distressing," Cat agrees quietly. And it makes sense. Abby the Eternal Virgin, the nun. Staying pure wasn't anything she needed aid with. Deckard? Not the same, definitely. Maybe… Maybe that's what's happening with Petromir. His lack of confidence, the quirks of his personality being bridged by the death kami's forcefulness.
She holds her stout poised as if to drink from it, but doesn't. Speculation continues, the metaphoric wheels perhaps seen to turn behind her eyes. Gabriel Gray isn't dead, so the most recent dead host sometimes takes the helm of Petromir. Likewise, Abby isn't dead, so the most recent dead host surfaces in Flint.
Eventually she speaks. "French won't be a problem for me, Abby. Thank you."
"I didn't think that it would be a problem for you, I just thought that maybe you might like to know how to tell between the two besides the way he talks and moves. Like it's not quite all fitting in place. Like someone else is wearing Flint." She's gotta stop talking about it, it's getting her upset. "Was there anything else you came by about? The check was fine? I didn't mess up the amount did I?"
"I get the idea," Cat replies with a nod. "The check is all good too." Her stout is finally lifted and that drink is taken as she rests her backside against the wall, leaning a bit. She wants to see the journal, but Abby hasn't offered, so she restrains her curiosity. "Other than that, I came just to hang around for a bit. Say hello and all that."
"You can come on up, upstairs if you like. Joseph's staying here and spends his days out at one of the ferryplaces. It's giving him something to do. I should pack for the night and let the girls take care of the bar like they should, like they do, when I'm not sticking my nose in and interfering." She finishes off her own root beer. "Maybe you can help me with some of the stuff I need to know. The theory, not the practical. I'm not about to stab you with needles a dozen times over."
"I should talk to him soon too," Cat muses as she lifts the dark brew to drink again. Feet move, headed toward the stairs. She has a few hours to kill, discussing theory is a good thing.