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Scene Title Job
Synopsis Adam's back to keep up with attempts to make Abby his BFF and see if she got his present. Find out a bit more about her. He gets instead a frank albeit short conversation about his actions causing her no end of suspicion and he ends up calling her Job. He leaves without finding that cherry beer he loves so much and Abby decidedly less suspicion about his intentions.
Date April 27, 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.

The bar opens a little earlier these days, to compensate for the lost hours due to the curfew in effect. Life sucks when your stone sober past 9:30, didn't you know? Old lucy's opens at noon for now, yes you can get buzzed at noon and have a bite to eat, but right now? Right now it's just about to hit 5 pm. Abby's hauling ass in from classes, a few reporters that are still hanging on, hoping to get an interview with the evolved healer are denied as she does her standard coming in through the fire escape and down through izzy's apartment. The meeting at her psychologists went off without a hitch, discussing how this whole TV thing is impacting her recovery.

In a cherry red tank top, with the words "Jesus Saves" in sequins across it, delicate gold cross on chain, red hair back in a ponytail, snug jeans and boots, the woman is settling into her end of the bar. The greener scooter out front means she's there, but Huruma's threats/promises have meant that any reporter who comes in, quickly learns to get their drink and leave the bar staff alone. They're protective of their Nun. Abigail ties the ends of her apron strings around her hips, making sure that everything she needs is in order, even as someones already at her corner asking for a pint of sam adams.

Adam is already at the bar, apparently he had been waiting for the small red head to come into the bar. He apparently has caused some frustration to the former bartender as he orders a drink, takes a few drinks and demands another one. He tries to explain to other bartender who may be getting off now, "Did you know in Sweden they have a beer that tastes like cherries. /Cherries./" he shakes his head as he leans back, dissastied.

British! That gets Abigails attention who was so brain scattered, thinking about British history - yes, that's right, she's been taking British history - that she didn't notice Adam. Brenda just looking at Adam like he's the strangest thing in the world. "I could put a shot of Grenadine in some Killians?" Comes the southern comfort from the other end of the bar.

Adam looks up at the suggestion with an arched brow. He smiles suddenly and leans back, "Well, if it isn't the red haired angel." he says teasingly but in a friendly tone, "Come to save my palate as well, hmm?"

"I don't know if anyone would call is saving a palate, but you can try it and see. On the house. Brenda, i'll trade sides?" Which is fine with the flirty redhead as there seems to be soemthing tall dark and handsome that's parking itself in front of Abby and Brenda wants a piece of it. "I got your present" As if he didn't know that.
Adam ahs, "On the house, that is too kind of you." as he waits for his aforementioned drink. As the subject of the gift is brought up, Adam says, "Oh, I hope you liked it." as casually as if he was saying 'I hope it doesn't rain tomorrow'.

On the house because she doesn't even know if the Killians will even taste good with the cherry syrup. Abigail rummages below the bar in the little fridge's till she finds the bottle. A well placed whack with her hand against the cap of the bottle resting on the edge and the cap flips off. The bottle of Grenadine is tipped over, trying to judge just how much she should put in, then a straw used to try and mix it all up a bit before the bottles is tipped, poured into a glass. let it never be said that Abigail doesn't try to please the customer. "if you know the name and you plan on showing up frequently, we can see about ordering some of this drink from sweden. Might be costly though"

Adam mms, "I'm not sure I remember the name. It was Swedish." he says, "Sometimes, their words don't translate well. All those umlats and what not." he pauses a moment as he considers the glass. He reaches forward and takes a drink, considering it for a few moments and says, "No…that's.." he pauses, "Bitter with sweet isn't good." he looks up, "Do you get to see your parents often?"

There's a motion with her hand for Adam to pass the glass back over so she can pour it out. "Why do you ask? And yes, it's very beautiful and unique. Very… pointed" The stout that Cat so loves is poured for Adam, nowhere near his cherry alcohol that he laments about, but it's not going to be like having sex in a canoe - Fucking close to water.

Adam shrugs a bit, "I saw your recent press conference where you gave them a…" he pauses, "What is it you kids call it these days, a shout out?" he tilts his head, "I wondered how often they could possibly see their little angel all the way in Louisiana. I was curious." he pauses for some moments as he tries the stout. He mmms, "I suppose this has promise."

"I never told you they were in Lousiana Mr. Monroe" There's no crossed arms, but there's raised brows.
Adam nods, "You didn't. But your accent is Louisiana, just as the day is long." he pauses, "Given enough time, I might even be able to guess where in Louisiana.." he pauses, "Not quite New Orleans…more bayou territory, hm? Not quite cajun, but near enough you had a creole uncle or some such?"

"No Creole uncle. But we're a few hours from New Orleans. We weathered the Hurricane well and then my parents took me to help people out" Abigail busies herself behind the bar cleaning up Brenda's mess left behind and filling orders as they're brought up. Pitcher of this, bottle of that. "I don't see them often but I talk often. A package came from them, same day as yours. I tried to visit recently but I got derailed." Imprisoned actually. But Adam doesn't know that. He also doesn't know that that wasn't her on TV. "Momma would be tickled and she was, that I took a few moments to say hello to her"

Adam nods a bit, "Quite a compelling story." he says quietly, "Must have been…horrible." but then, Adam has seen worse. But never let it be said he couldn't feign empathy or sympathy. He pauses, "Any brothers or sisters? Or were you an only child." he looks thoughtful before he says,"You have the bearing of an only child. Apple of her daddy's eye or what not."

'I think, expensive gift or not Mr. Monroe, your starting to dig too much into my personal life than most others do. But you seem observant enough" Which means likely, yes, an only child. Blue eyes have focused on him solely after the rum and coke is put up for someone to take.

"No offense Mr. Monroe, but my last three months have not been the brightest time of my life and I'd endured hell and back all for want of my god given gift. The last two who had an English accent and showed interest in my personal life, ended up shoving me beneath a brothel and near killing me by making me heal constantly. They cut out my tongue and shot me and there but for the grace of god, and another healer they have willingly working for them, I'm whole, hale, and released. So you might understand that while your a friend of Huruma's, enough so that she said that you were just a man who's taken a liking to me, I'm still a little leery. but I'm sure you can understand that"

It's polite, quiet, not meant to be antagonistic or rude. She's just a little more honest these days.

Adam tilts his head. He's quiet for some moments, thoughtful moments as he studies the bar maid. After he lets out a breath he leans forward, "Sometimes." he murmers, "God needs another Job." he stands quietly from his seat, "I'm sorry my interest in you might have made you leery. Never had it been my intent." he smiles, "You are a beautiful angel. Someone who needs to be protected and appreciated." he holds a hand, "Don't take that for lecherousness either. I'm sure you have your own beau, or will. Sometimes, I just think some people are precious, and you are one such thing." he lays some money on the bar, "I'll be talking to you, yeah?"

Ordinarily, Abigail doesn't take hands. Few and far between get the gift of touch when it doesn't involve healing. But Adam finds her palm in his and gripping firmly, not a woman to give a soft handshake. "Job" It takes her a few moments before an honest smile breaks out across her face. "He has a reason for everything. From even the deepest of despair, so long as you believe, you'll find a light to lead you back and people to help you along the way just so long as you keep the faith and while that may not have been your intent, that's how it came off. But I can see now for my own eyes, it's not" She lets go, pushing his money back at him. "I'm not an angel. I'm just a woman, who's doing his work as best she can, and enduring the trials he puts before her. Thank you, for the sculpture. It has great meaning and I will care for it greatly. Your welcome to come to the bar anytime. Drinks on the house and god bless while your out tonight"

Adam waves a hand, "Give it to the other bartender, I gave the bird a hard time." and with that, he steps out in the night air.

[Job] (pronounced Jobe) is a gentile man in the Book of Job in the Hebrew Bible, as well as a prophet in Islam. In brief, the book begins with an introduction to Job's character — he is described as a blessed man who lives righteously. Satan, however, challenges Job's integrity, arguing that Job serves God simply because of the "hedge" with which God protects him. God progressively removes that protection, allowing Satan to take his wealth, his children, and his physical health. Job remains loyal throughout, and does not curse God. The main portion of the text consists of the discourse of Job and his three friends concerning why Job was so punished, after which God steps in to answer Job and his friends. The Lord blessed the latter days of Job more than his beginning and he lived 140 years (Job 42:10,17).

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