Looking Out For Some Friends


abby_icon.gif huruma_icon.gif isabelle_icon.gif james_icon.gif

Scene Title Looking Out For Some Friends
Synopsis The countdown begins and Abby tries to let some friends, close or not, know to get off the island.
Date January 25, 2009

In or around Old Lucy's

Abby had left a message with Isbaelle, wanting to talk with her before the end of her shift. Imporant, imperative, necessary that the woman talk with Abigail. So it is, at the end of her shift, Abigail's waiting upstairs in Isabel's apartment, her jacket and stuff with her, sitting in a comfortable chair and waiting.

Isabelle enters her apartment wearing a pair of jeans and a tank top. "So what's up Abs?" She looks at the healer with worry. "Sounded like you /really/ need to talk to me."

"I do Isabelle. I really do" Abby motions for the woman to take a seat. "I talked with Nico already, and I need to talk to you. It's really important that you listen to me Isabelle. That you listen and you do what I ask. It would be a favor to me and make me twenty times more … worry free than i'll be at any point these next few days"

"Ok well, spit it out. Don't give yourself a heart attack. Ok?" Isabelle looks at Abby and leans against the counter. Her hair is in a ponytail.

'Close the bar Tuesday night. Be off the island by Wednesday morning. Tell anyone that you value, to do the same. If it's still here by thursday morning, consider it safe to come back" She's starting to be a little more direct about it all.

"/What?/ Why? At least give me that." Izzy raises an eyebrow and looks over to the window. "I don't understand, is something coming?"

"you know your TV. The one you burnt." Abby answers, the coat is folded over her lap. 'The islands going to be like that, if things go south. I don't intend for it to go south, but if it does, I want you off the island, so that it's one less person caught by surprise and no on someones hands. That good enough?" This sucks. Doing this whole get off the island or die thing. Only reinforces the whole… I'm going to die thing too. She watches the fiery woman. The thing about Abigail being unable to lie, means that when she's telling the truth, it's just as easy to see.

Isabelle sighs, "Why didn't you ask me for help Abby?" The woman sighs and after a few minutes of silence. "Ok, but you had /better/ come out of this alive. Got it.?"

"Because you can't do a thing Isabelle. Everyone says how can I help, why can't I help. I don't know why you can't help but you can help by just closing the bar Tuesday night and being out of the city by the morning of Wednesday. That's how you can help. If the islands still there Thursday, then.. you come back. And all well and the world keeps turning and people still need a drink" Abby offers a smile to the woman.

Doesn't like that 'you can't do a thing' statement and it shows on Izzy's face. As if she wants to say that she will do a thing and stay right on the island and not leave but that feeling passes. "You're going to tell me everything.. and I mean everything once things calm down. Understand?"

"If I'm here" Is Abigails reply. She's got what she wants, Isabelle's promise to be off the island before shit hits the fan. The healer rises, unfolding her jacket and slipping her arms into it.

"Oh trust me Abby, you will be." Isabelle says this with full confidence. "Because if you aren't. I'll burn you to ash." Isabelle's expression is so serious.. until the woman breaks out into a wide grin.

'get in line" Abby answers, drawing close the pink wool jacket. "You and everyone else. Oh, I left a hundred in the till, for the other night. If it was more, let me know. You can take it off my pay. Have fun tonight Isabelle. I have some things to go do"

"Yeah yeah, just go and don't forget I expect your skinny ass back here by next Friday!" She calls with a chuckle. Isabelle shakes her head to herself. "Damn Abs, what have you gotten yourself into." She says softly to herself.

Abby doesn't bother to answer that last question. She's sure it's rolling through quite a few people's heads. She just nods, grabbing her helmet and her bag. "Heading to the coffee shop, i'll bring back some drinks for the girls. I need to take the rest of the week off"

"Done. Now shoo." Is all that Izzy says before she waves Abby out. "Go and do what you need to do."
'Thank you!" Calls Abby, before out the door she disappears, boots clunking on the steps down.

20 minutes later

Abby's making the rounds of people she knows. On her way out from work, short shift, last shift before you know, the world goes to pot. One of the rounds is James. The younger Harvard brother got a call from Abigail and a request to meet at the coffee shop located outside and near the Bar she works at. Fancy jacketed, cheap gloves scarf, the blonde hair radiant under a street light, coffee in hand, two of them while she waits. Today and the rest of these days is for tying up loose ends, warning people she knows, and .. making dinner for roommates and Teo's aunt.

James comes to meet Abby, as promised, although his uniform and the ambulance pulling up on the side of the street tells the story of him being here on borrowed time. The city is up and moving, undercurrents stirring the situation without anyone really having much of a clue what's actually happening, and it would seem the hospitals are working as hard as ever.

For now, his partner remains in the car, saying something to James about bringing him back some tar, answered with a chuckle as the paramedic jumps out and spots the blonde underneath the street light. He heads on over towards her, a hand raised in greeting. "Hey, Abby. What's up?"

"Mr. Harvard" The coffee is held out when he gets close, not realizing he'd come on company time and thereby would have bought a third coffee for the partner. So she passes the both over. She can go in and get one for herself after. "Thanks, for coming"

James blinks, and then makes a bit of a face. "Please… Whatever you might think about me, and my family, just call me James, okay? Mr. Harvard just sounds… wrong." he murmurs, taking the offered cups, assuming it's a request to hold on to them. Alright. A brief inhale, as if to gather strength, and then he beams her a smile. "So, you rang, madam? What can I do you for?"

"Get out of town, till Thursday, Friday, one of those two days" Abject seriousness on the blonde's face. "Your brother won't go, he'll need to be with scout. But you, you can take the rest of your family. You can say there's some family thing happening. come up with some excuse, but be off the island by Wednesday morning James" He told her to use his name so she's going to do that.

He clearly wasn't expecting that. James blinks again, and then he shakes his head. "I beg your pardon?" He doesn't sound upset, just slightly confused. Did he hear that right? "Did something… what happened?"

'Something will, or it won't and if I could scream it from the rooftops I would James. But I can't. I can only tell friends, and those I know. Either some Wednesday, this place will be fine, or it won't. Please don't ask me more, i can't tell you more, but I want you to get off the island at least. Don't tell your brother I warned you, he'll just likely drag me in and I can't afford that. I need to be out and about, I need to do what I do." There's a gesture with her hands at James. Non threatening, so he knows, possibly what she means. "Just promise me, that you'll seriously think of getting off the island before Wednesday. IF it's still here.. by Thursday, then consider it safe to return"

James frowns now, confusion turning into concern. "I… can understand the idea of classified information." he offers up, looking for something to say, not quite sure what to do about this sort of information when it's delivered like this, from this pale angel underneath the street light, haloed by her blonde curls and… yeah. He could probably find more angel-likenesses if he had the time to go through them all, but truth to be told, he doesn't seem to have that. Neither does she seem to have. "..alright, I'll see what I can do. Thank you." he finally says, with a bit of a sigh. "And… whatever I tell my brother, I won't mention you." A promise is a promise, and all that, and her obviously going out on a limb here to tell him this, that's worth a favor in return.

Relief. Thank God. "No. Thank you James. It's one less person that I'll need to worry about. Less on my shoulders and that of others" Abby nods her head. "Coffee's for you, and your partner. Consider it a thank you, for taking my words seriously" Abigail reaches up, careful of the coffee's and gives a very brief quick hug. "Thank you"

James can't really return the hug, not with his hands full of coffee, but he'll wrap his arms around her briefly none the less, even if careful as not to spill on her and her fancy coat. "I can't promise to leave, Abigail, the work I do…" He releases, leaning back with a meaningful look over his shoulder towards the ambulance. "..and if something happens, I can't just leave." Open the dictionary at 'stubborn', and you'll find a picture of the Harvard family, no doubt. "..but if nothing else, I do promise I'll keep it in mind, and I'll talk to my family."

"If it goes well, you won't even know about it James. If it goes bad…." Abby shakes her head. "There won't be an island to come back to"

James nods slowly, a little bit more understanding dawning upon him. "Oh. Still…" He smiles thinly, "I'm not going to promise I won't be here. I'm sorry, Abigail, but I'm not that good of a liar anyway."

"Me neither" Abigail nods. "Hey umm, if.. If i make it, past Wednesday, means, I'm going to be going to school. Do you think.. I might spend a day, with you in the" she gestures to the ambulance. 'See what I'm getting myself into?" Her hands delve into her pocket, it is cold out here and she's got other things to do tonight.

That's an interesting turn of events, but sure, James can see the good in planning for the worst and the best case scenarios. He glances back towards the ambulance again, and then offers her a warm smile. "Of course. Just, you know, let me talk to the shift manager, and we'll set something up for you." There's a slight scrape of static from his radio, and then a sharp, female voice cuts through the cool air. Seems like the company wants its time back, on the double. James makes a apologetic face. "Thank you for the coffee. And.. the rest. I'll be sending a prayer your way, and if things go well, you'll get to ride shotgun. We'll set it up, no worries." That, he doesn't seem to have any troubles to promise.

"If it helps, tell them I'm a registered healer. I'm sure it'll.. do something" She hears it too, a look to his partner and a nod of her head before she turns to the store. "Take care James. Tell who you want. Have faith"

James grins briefly, "You too, Abigail. Be safe." he offers as a farewell, and then he takes the coffee and heads back towards the ambulance, where his partner is already calling in their response. Well, warnings and coffee… He spends a moment trying to figure out if flowers would be considered an appropriate thank-you, in case the world still exists after this week.

20 Minutes later

Coffee in hand, few of them actually, presumably to drop off at the bar on her return from the coffee shop. She's off shift, just need to pick up her scooter and head off to some girls night shin dig. The expensive looking coat that doesn't match anything else she own seen in the streetlights as she moves. Deep in thought. It's early evening and she's yet quiet, thoughtful. There's much on this young woman's mind.

There is no real hint as to whether Huruma is coming or going- nor any hint of her at all, really. As Abby heads down the road, there is at least one pair of eyes on her as she goes. They make a presence as the blonde passes by the mouth of one of the alleyways on the side of the street; Huruma sidesteps from there at least a dozen feet in front of Abby, her own thick leather coat barely crinkling against her limbs. Though she may or may not be sudden in her appearance, Huruma does have a rather pensive look upon her face when regarding the girl- perhaps just a little bit too much so, but then again- she is always looking hard at something or someone. In these terms, it might even serve as a greeting.

"Huruma" Abby see's her. Even with the woman's skin tone. "Heading into work?" She pulls up when she nears the woman, tray of coffees, creamers, stir sticks, sugar all tucked in between the paper cups and their coffee collars.

Huruma gives a tilt of her head to peer down at the coffee and et cetera, pupils flickering up to Abby's face and a hand by her side giving a small flick of nail-to-nail. At first the woman doesn't answer, stepping with small paces out onto the sidewalk proper and setting her gaze on Abigail as if she were sizing the girl up for something. "Perhaps." She either has not decided, or simply does not want to answer directly.

Abigail nods, plucking a coffee from the tray as she balances it with one hand and holds it out. "Was bringing back drinks for the girls. Ones for you" She's not shuddering or cringing under the studying or the nail flicking. She takes a moment though, licking her lips before she speaks up again. "I'm taking the next few days off Huruma. Have to square some things… I think.. I think you need to get off the island, by Wednesday morning" Blues eyes match white eyes.

The whites close just slightly, but the dark pupils in them don't move. Huruma lifts a hand carefully to pluck the offered coffee(maybe she /is/ going to work, after all) and pull it closer. Smells like caffeine. A small upward crease of her lips serves as a 'Thank You' in Hurumese. As Abby continues speaking, Huruma shifts her weight delicately to one leg, shoulders stock still to listen. The pursing of her lips again and the sweeping arching of both brows constitutes her curiosity.

"Why?" A watchful blink goes back to Abby, Huruma's voice somewhat lower than its usual purr.

'Because you'll be alive" Is Abigails response. "And as much as you scare the bejeesus out of me, I'd like, if stuff doesn't go to hell in a hand basket, still have you working in this bar come next week and not some little pile of ask at the bottom of the river" She shrinks just a little under that gaze. Who wouldn't.

The first bit gets a sharp fix of Huruma's eyes, which had previously been cat-like in what seemed like idleness. Now they seem like a bird-of-prey, looming down at Abby. As the girl continues, the tall woman's nostrils give the smallest of flares and her brows bend in the center. Her teeth meet the lip of her tongue under her lips, and the gesture draws a small sneer onto dark features.

"Explain." That was not a question. It was a demand. If someone comes up to you and says you're liable to die, what else would you say?

"I can't" It takes a lot of courage to say that. That's evident. She a mix of fear, worry, little bit of guilt. Doom, lots of doom. "I can't Huruma, I really can't just please, I'll only say it once more. By Wednesday morning, be off the island at least. If everything goes well, Thursday will be a new day and the island will carry on as if nothing is wrong" Her hands tighten on the cardboard tray, watching the woman with much wariness and strung tight.

Courage or not, Abby is permeating her fear into the very air around her, like a fog. Huruma can feel it as if it were really there, something almost tangible and sogging the breath. Huruma lifts the edges of her lip again, the wrinkles of a snarl beginning at the sides of her nose. Her back curves to lower her torso, and those razor-sharp cheekbones come almost level with Abby's. The heels of her boots make both legs seem miles long as she does this.

The dark woman stares at the younger, the finer details of her face coming into sharp, predatory focus. Her voice is low and almost a growl, and by the sound of it- Huruma does not like being passively threatened with inexistence.

"I can taste th'reeking o'fear all o'er you, Abigail." Her eyes narrow. "Why can you no'tell me? Or d'ou fear th'raw truths tha'th'world is so vile?"

"The world is a horrible terrible place Huruma. Men do vile and terrible things all in the name of what they believe. But there are always people there to stop them. You smell fear.. because I'm so filled with it. Please. Just do as I ask. IF I'm alive past Wednesday, you can.. shake some sense into me if you like and … maybe it'll work" That doesn't stop the woman from taking a step back from Huruma, her fear still there.

"Not always, Abigail." Huruma's teeth click together audibly, bitterly. "Tell tha'to the cradle of humanity. Sometimes there is nobody. War, genocide, fear- and nobody is there." She knows this both firsthand, and because she perpetuated the fact herself. The woman stands straight again, face bent in irritation. In a switch, she tilts her head to Abby again after glowering away at the air. "Where d'you suppose tha'I go, fro'this phantom menace?" The woman bites her teeth together again, tone obviously still agitated.

"Maybe not always Huruma, but this time, there is. I'm there and there's others and god will have my back" Abigail wets her lips, still watching the dark skinned woman. "Go to Las Vegas. I hear there's lots of fun there. Or maybe just to one of the boroughs. Go find a spa, ge ta back rub, paint your nails. Be pampered"

Huruma lifts her free hand to run fingers over the slicked-back hair on her head, nails trailing at the side of her neck and onto the collar of her coat. For a moment, she felt like a show of teeth or a power-play- but biting Abigail probably will not help. "I don'need pampering." Her response has a slight hiss and a dose of denial. Maybe she does, but Huruma wouldn't be the one to admit it. Pulled tighter than a string in a harp. "I need t'know wha'is going on. Bu'you will no'tell me." The air in her lungs leaves in a frustrated huff of chilled air.

"There's a man Huruma, and he's going to unleash a virus" She'll just say it. Come out with it. "They're going to stop him, and i'm charged, with others, to stop him. If we don't, this island is going to become a pile of ash, to save the rest of the world. That's it" She watches the woman carefully. "That's why I want the people I know, to get off the island. Because if everything goes to pot… at least you and others will be safe"

There is a glimmer of either recognition or realization behind Huruma's eyes- fleeting and sharp. She bares her gaze down on Abby now, lips pursing while her ears listen carefully. The woman says nothing when Abby finishes her words, simply staring for what seems like an eternity in itself. If Abby only knew Huruma- really knew her- would she still say these things? Want to keep her alive, for that matter? Huruma cannot tell, by just observing the girl- it is one of those matters that will be addressed when it has to be.

"Will you go? Please?" Abigail asks, quietly, even as her breath curls out into the night, facing the taller woman.

"«You are often so naive. Tonight, less so, I suppose.»" Huruma responds in something that is decidedly not English language- the hollow click below her words testing it as one of her native tongues. Her eyes have drawn from the girl, to the air, to the gray, cloudy sky, then back to Abigail.

"Yes. I will, Abigail." Her voice rumbles a sigh, and deep in her chest it echoes a frustrated growl.

'Thank you Huruma. Consider it a favor I owe you, for your going. I need to go. I have to go tell some other to please get off the island" There's a pause. "Like it's some bad reality show" The blonde turns away from Huruma, heading off to where some motorcycles and that green scooter waits. "I have to heal someone to death Huruma. How's that for irony" she calls back over her shoulder.

The dark woman lets out the smallest of hums, the corners of her lips curling in a slightly smug gesture as Abby denotes this as a favor. "«Just horrible coincidence.»" Huruma mutters to herself as Abby calls back. She then touches Abby with a calming wave before the girl gets too far; the fear at the foremost part of her is assuaged just enough to where she may feel slightly more emboldened by Huruma's cooperation.

"«Be careful, cub.»" It'll be fine, you'll see.

She doens't know where it comes from yet again, this calming that overtakes her, nor what Huruma speaks. Foreign languages get spoken around her often enough and usually irritates her. Not so much right now. But Huruma can see it in Abby's body. The line of her shoulders, the soft little sigh as the blonde for now, isn't feeling the trepidation and fear as she ducks into the bar, to drop off the coffee's for her co-workers. Back out in that high class coat, getting settled onto the scooter, and setting off into the night.

January 25th: The Warning
January 25th: Early Evening At Headquarters
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