Participants:
Also Featuring:
| Scene Title | Meeting of the Scoobies |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | A handful of young Ferrymen meet to discuss finding a new safehouse for the organisation. |
| Date | February 14, 2011 |
The Corinthian: Delia Ryans' Room
Crown molding, white ceilings and striped wallpaper in shades of eggshell and pale gold all define this small but fashionably decorated hotel room at the Corinthian. Three hundred square feet, including the attached bathroom with claw-foot tub and shower, is not a lot of space in which to move around, but a pair of French doors painted white lead out onto a small balcony with a wrought-iron rail for guests who desire fresh air or the opportunity to enjoy a cigarette.
An armchair is situated in one corner and a small desk in another with a queen-sized bed and ornate headboard positioned against the wall between. Lighting is provided by two gold lamps build into the wall on either side of the bed as well as one that hangs from the ceiling and imitates the wan, comforting glow of candlelight.
Women, notorious for changing their minds. There's a rule about it written somewhere in the code of women, but no one will ever admit to owning a copy. It is along this vein that Delia Ryans, being of sound mind and unsound body, changed her own. She's been down in the main lobby practically all day, reading. After the first few bellboys asked about her well being, they sort of ended up leaving her alone. The guest in 504 has been rumored to get a little unruly… housekeeping spread the word about the rock stars that had their way with the room.
It's just a little after noon, somewhere in the tea time range, maybe? When the redhead finally puts down her book. In the window of the lobby, she sees a face or two that she recognizes, a set of yellow eyes, and a baby. Unfolding the wheelchair from beside the plush easy chair that she currently occupies, she arranges herself into it and wheels toward the entrance. To them, there's just a squint of blue eyes and a hint of a smile before she turns the chair and heads toward the elevators. Not a word is said until they reach 504.
"I can't believe you're all here!" Delia squeals when they're safely inside. She's as excited as a sixteen year old at F.U. (that's Fired Up! for anyone not in the know about cheerleader movies). "There's only one chair— two with mine, but the bed's big enough for all of you." Sable is the one that she mainly sticks to.
Kendall is slightly uncomfortable. Well, all the people he knows here are women, and he's going into another lady's room. Hopefully he won't have to explain that to Valerie. Of course, he'll get over it, but in the meantime he's just sort of hovering off to the side looking nervous. He'll stand, and let the ladies sit. It's the chivalrous thing to do, after all. He's especially not going to sit on the bed.
Presently jobless and naturally born shiftless, Sable's hours would be about as odd as the woman herself if not for having adjacent lives to help maintain some minimal structure. God alone knows how late she would have been had she not be soundly shoved out of door after door, then brought along for the ride to… where were they going again?
The name 'Corinthian' still lacks stickiness in her mind, this hotel being, for all intents and purposes 'that grand 'n' fancy place where th' big Nichols works'. She didn't even really figure it was a hotel until she was swept up by the elevator and arrived in the telltale halls - she thought it was just, like, a really big restaurant. Or something.
This was Ferry biz, last she checked, and so Sable is dressed more in the mold of an urban resistance fighter than a legitimate hotel guest. Which is to say, she wears what she always wears. Simple, comfortable shirt with layers of sweater and jacket to keep out the cold. Pants with generous storage space. Shoes, to be tread in with a lazy shuffle, at least until she's past the front doors. Then she walks more lightly, ever possessed with a sense of out-of-placeness she tries to allay by casting nervous smiles Delilah's way. She's here with her, right, right? And Ms. Trafford cuts a much more respectable figure.
Her nervousness evaporates, though, once she sees who it is that's greeting them. Delia Ryans is a face she's not seen for some time, since the days in Gun Hill, but it's a fondly recollected one all the same. The wheelchair draws a look and a lifts a sympathetic brow, but Delia's excitement and enthusiasm seem to preclude 'are you okay' questions.
"Havin' a time believin' it m'self," she admits, once they are stowed away in room 504, "but we both 'f us don't need no faith t' see what's b'fore us." She rubs quickly at her nose, a little chilly just from the brief walk to the hotel doors. "Wha's this all 'bout, 'xactly?"
The girl with Sable, Delia has struck it up with before, of course- just the once, but they got along so well, right? Delilah jumped on the chance to do this; people she likes, and something that she likes doing. It is a rare thing that she is even able to help the Ferry as much as she wants to, so it makes sense that she'd leap at the opportunity. With the weather warming up as it is- not much, but hey- the ice has been melting away and revealing the concrete underneath. There is less of a reason now for Dee to need to keep Walter huddled up with her now, and so when she and Sable show up, she has him in the stroller, covered basket and all.
It's hard to not really say anything on the way inside, or on the way up, and Dee is bursting a little like Delia is, apparently- enough to practically let out a breath of relief and at least unzip the coat she wears over her dress, a simple ivory dotted with green florals, and an open green sweater over top.
"Goodness, I am so ready for spring. Aren't you?" Delilah asks the baby peeking out from under the basinet, only to smile up at Delia and survey the room- and others, incidentally. "Sooooon, I suppose." She allows Delia, the effective hostess, to answer Sable. It's one thing to have to be pulled out of bed by Delilah yanking the blanket like a magic trick, another to forget anything she may have said.
Rue slips into the room behind the others. She didn't ride the elevator with them, but took the stairs. Not that she has a fear of elevators, or doesn't want to cramp things, but it's an enclosed space. And there's a slowly recovering woman and a baby involved. Only once she's tucked inside of room 504 does the usually bouncy redhead (she's not today) unwind the scarf from its cover around her neck and lower portion of her face. A mask - the N-95 type - is still in place over her nose and mouth. She keeps her distance from Delia and Delilah, hopefully without appearing too anti-social. "You're sure you want me here?" she asks uncertainly.
Delia gives Rue a nod and a small smile while motioning toward the dresser. There's really only one chair in the room but the skinny (skinnier? willowy) redhead might like the head of the room. "Yeah, you've got the mask and you haven't broken out yet… We'll be fine." She hopes.
Reaching behind her, the chairbound woman pulls a notebook from a cloth bag attached to the back. Tucked inside of that are a bunch tourist maps of New York and the surrounding counties, all colored in with markers and color coded. "Eileen had me looking into a few things," the answer to Sable's question is finally worded. "I hope you don't mind that it's all hand written… I couldn't risk texts and emails." The maps are unfolded and laid on top of the bed one over the other.
"I found a few locations for another safehouse," she gives a quick glance between them before she pulls herself out of her chair to a shaky stand. "Okay, there's three that I thought might be worth looking into."
Kendall moves a little closer so he can look at the map, and tilts his head. "Are any in dangerous areas? Any chance those hunterbot things are going to be there?" he's seen the head of one of those things and it looks scary. Like that movie 9.
Sable remains standing, unzipping her jacket and freeing her dark hair from the hood that keeps it pressed down, looking all the more unkempt for it. She runs her fingers through her unruly mane a couple times, then gives it up as a bad thing, slipping both hands back into her jacket pockets, flapping the wings of the coat a couple times, batlike in black leather.
She's paying attention, though, honest, much as she takes the time to tip an invisible hat to the masked carrottop (need to keep all these russetheads straight somehow…) "'course yer wanted, sweetie," she informs Rue, "don' trouble yerself twice with such doubt." Sable saunters forward to get a proper look at those maps on the bed, her lips quirking to one side as she peers. None of it means much to her. There's the city. There's a lot of it. But it turns out, Delia's done that work (hoofwork not likely), and so yellow eyed attention slides back up to the recovering woman.
"Le's hear it, then," Sable urges, "whatall are our options, and what 'r we doin' 'bout 'em?"
Delilah gives Rue a bit of a suspicious look at first, but Delia seems to think it's okay for her to be around- and Delia knows more about that kind of thing. She also knows that Delia liked to see Walter the first time, so it's not much of a hassle to pry him up out of the stroller and perched in his mother's arms; she takes a seat on the bed simple as anything, holding him up in her lap, the sweater he wears a couple sizes too big for him.
"Those things haven't come out of midtown, have they?" Delilah looks up at Kendall like he just offered her an asparagus cupcake. Some sort of wonder and distaste all rolled into one. "Go ahead." She shakes her head of mental fuzz and looks back to Delia, letting Walter look around and inspect the others from her lap. He does not seem terribly impressed, but he keeps looking at Kendall with some faintly expectant look. Maybe cause he is the least familiar- redheads are mom clones, obviously, then there is Sable.
Rue doesn't edge too close to the maps, but uses her height to her advantage to sort of peer over the top of everyone else for a peek. "What did you find?" She steals glances at Walter, smiling toward him behind her mask, evident in the way her eyes seem to twinkle with mirth. Kittens and babies are the two cutest things in the world in her mind. Well, maybe after sea hors- Anyway. "And what do the colours mean?"
Three of the maps are folded and laid in a puzzle pattern overtop the fourth to make one big map of the city with all of the lines and colors matching. "Okay, there's three places," she gives Rue a quick glance and moves slightly to the side to allow a better vantage for the other woman. "I colored the patrol areas like on the website and jotted down some times in the margins. They might change, but right now this is what I was able to dig up."
She points to the first map, in Bronx, and circles the area with her fingertip. "This is an abandoned theatre, we could probably fit a lot of people in there… but it would take a lot of work to make functioning apartments or rooms. The plus side is there's big common areas that can accomodate a lot of different things, plus the stage could make an excellent place to hold meetings and things…"
Kendall glances at Walter, then at Delilah, then wrinkles his nose. Well, anyway. "Theater, like movie theater, or theater like, uh…. Shakespeare?" oh, she said stage. "Shakespeare, got it. So… what's the downside to this location?" Kendall is trying to sound professional. "Just hard work to get it up and running, or is there something else?"
The colored sections are patrol areas, okay, Sable follows that. Her eyes skip across the maps' unfolded pages to where Delia marks the theater. For rather obvious, personal thematic reasons, Sable is a big fan of stages and performance spaces in general, and she cracks a smile at the mention of it. "'N' I miss th' Bronx, some and some other times," she comments, not that that should be a factor to consider.
A small frown passes over Sable's features, however. "Abandoned, though? Hon, y'all say that, but what d' y' mean? Speakin' from experience, abandoned don't mean no one's there. Jus' that it ain't, like, up 'n' runnin', put t' use by it's, like, owner, 'n' all. Big place like a theater… there's streetfolk enough t' fill th' house, I'll bet, 'n' may be some fair few folk already set up shop there, dependin' on how tight it's been locked up."
Walter isn't as ready to look away, so Kendall gets the baby staring at him for a while yet, until Delia starts pointing at things and he looks after her fingers. Delilah looks and listens, letting Sable address what it is she needs to address. "I think with any of these period, we might have to expect there could be someone there. If it's a big place like that, even moreso. No telling unless we check them out though."
"Maybe if we assume people are everywhere we might not be disappointed if there is." A nice sort of idea- no use getting hopes up. Delilah peers down and brushes at Walter's hair with her fingers to tame it down onto his head.
"I like the idea of converting a theatre," Rue admits, giving a glance to Sable. They're on the same page. "There probably will be vagrants, but… Maybe if we act like we own the place, they'll leave?"
"Yeah, it's a stage theater, like Shakespeare. Abandoned in the sense that the former owners don't want to be there anymore… It closed up or something… I dunno… I guess, we would have to take a look at it in person and do a bit more work into finding out who owned it before… We might be able to buy it dirt cheap. It happens all the time." The more questions are asked the more nervous Delia seems to get with her presentation. She fumbles for the notebook and opens it to the page of information that she jotted down from various websites. "I can do a bit more digging if we decide we like them, but— I— uhm— I'm a bit nervous about doing too much. You never know who might be watching."
Flipping a few more pages, she moves to the second map, this time pointing to a spot in the middle of an orange-yellow area. "This one is probably the biggest place I found. It's an old factory. But— But it's in a higher patrolled area. The good news is, it's in Long Island City and it's got a railyard. So there's lots of space."
"I can make it look like it's on fire to them without it actually drawing the fire department." Kendall offers. "And since it's not real fire, no one would get hurt. It's the best way to evacuate a building." a bit unscrupulous, but homeless people can live anywhere, Evolved can't. The introduction of the next area has Kendall thinking. "Uh, an old factory? What kind of factory? Don't those tend to be filled with dangerous machinery and stuff?" baby is eyed again. Don't you know it's rude to stare?
"Shit, homeless folks ain't critters t' be smoked out…" Sable says, mouth tugging down at the corners, giving Kendall a look whose distaste makes sense only when you're aware of Sable's own vagrant past, "nor c'n y' jus' live anywhere, 'specially not durin' winter. We kick folks out, we mebbe are kickin' them out t' fuckin' freeze t' death. I dig, we need a place f'r those hunted, but I'd rather us make peace with th' fuckin' natives. They ain't too fond of police 'r nothin' either. But we blow in there, act all high 'n' mighty, what reason they got not t' whistle-blow, mebbe hopin' t' get a housin' voucher, 'xchange f'r sellin' out some assholes came in and chased 'em from th' nook they scratched out?"
Sable nods in Delilah's direction. "Figure best we go in thinkin' we gotta deal with whoever's there. Hell, if there ain't someone there, mebbe some reason t' wonder why that is. Mebbe somethin' bad in th' air, somethin' foul in the walls, some awful smell rises up when th' sun strikes jus' so. Folks live there, 'n' some folks live in a place like that f'r years, know better th' danger's th' place than we will. Seems best we come 's friends, 'stead 'f conquerers, dig?"
Nope! The baby goes back to staring at things, including Kendall a second time. Delilah looks up when he looks at the baby again, smirking over at him before responding in general. "We could, you know, just ask them to leave, find them a new place, or maybe even take them in…" Which comes in secondary to Sable's words, and so Sable manages to out-gumption Dee at talking, and the redhead defers to what Miss Diego says.
"She's right. It's better to be cautious and polite. A factory?" Delilah looks a bit skeptical about that one. "That one would be hard to divvy up or repair, I think. It's probably got thick walls and stuff, but might not be good for building in or on or what not. Though I know brownfields don't sell too well, wouldn't need to worry about that part."
Rue finds herself nodding along with Sable's words. It makes sense, and she seems to know what she's talking about. She considers the factory for a moment, lips pursing in thought. "We could house a lot of people in a factory…" Then she frowns, "But patrols are a big problem. We couldn't funnel too many people through at one time."
Nodding to each in turn but turning a skeptical eye to Kendall as he mentions 'smoking' people out with illusions, Delia finally turns to the last map. "This is the last one, it's the smallest but the safest." Tapping a spot on a map in Jamaica Bay, she glances toward Sable and shrugs one shoulder up. "It'd only be able to take a handful of people or so… If we're able to do two safehouses, I think that it might be a good secondary."
Pulling her iPad toward her, she lays it on top of the map and opens it to pictures of all three buildings. "The one in Jamaica is in a green area, so it's not really patrolled that often. I don't know where Brian and Mister Doyle are taking the kids, but it might be a good place for them."
"Lemme be translator," Sable suggests, tapping her chest, "ain't been so long off the streets that I don' recall how shit works. Folks mostly jus' wanna get paid, y' know? Not be messed with." She rolls her shoulder, cricks her neck, as if streetspeak were something you had to limber up for. "Won' know 'till we see all 'f 'em first hand, too. C'n tell, straight up, too, if it's already picked out by squatters. There's a, like, mark," she bites her lip, reaches into a pocket and extracts a little notepad and a pen. The lined paper is, for the good first half, covered in the untidy scrawlings of Sable herself. When she finds a blank page, she scratches out a quick symbol, a tilted 'N' in a circle, with one arm forming an arrow.
The symbol is lifted and displayed. "We see that, we know folks know t' stay there. But also means its safe t' stay in," Sable explains, "'course, it not bein' there don't mean folks aren't stickin' it out, either. Symbols 'r still sorta classy f'r wanderin' folk. Plenty jus' crackheads, alkies, junkies 'f all stripes, passin' out where they will."
"Ok, well, it wasn't a very good idea anyway and it was more of a last resort thing." Kendall mumbles, shrugging his shoulders as he's rebuked and given the evil eye by practically everyone in here. "Small but safe… yeah, sounds good for the kids." as if he couldn't be considered one of them anyway.
"They need to get the kids somewhere soon, so I think we should tell them we're going to be courting that one. We can't make that decision for them, but we can get pictures at least?" Delilah perks up when Sable shares her notepad with them, a considering look on her face. "I've seen that one before. I've seen some of the other ones too, but I don't know them. Maybe we should learn some more of them."
She tries her best to steer away from if people are there now. "Are we thinking we want to Scooby Gang this, or should we all go to each one at a time? I think we have enough to split up, but sometimes more eyes are better."
"I think those of us who haven't had our identities exposed should check out the factory and the theatre. And those of us more at risk should check the house in Jamaica Bay." Rue gives a shrug. "I mean, if the areas are heavily patrolled, more than we think, anyone who gets stopped should be someone whose ID won't raise red flags, right?"
This is a part of the conversation that Delia backs out of. Retaking her chair, she wheels backward and a little closer to the wall. "I can't leave the hotel, not until I'm better… So I have to leave that part up to you." A quick side glance to Rue has her raising her eyebrows and giving something of a helpless shrug. "I can FaceTime while you're looking though. I'd offer my ID to someone but… it won't pass a checkpoint."
"Well, um…. even the ones who've had identities exposed, I can go with you and make you and an ID card look like you're someone else." Kendall suggests. "I mean, unless they've got negation gas it should work, since I doubt patrols lug around equipment and stuff for advanced testing."
"Far 's I know, no one's lookin' f'r me," Sable says, notepad slipped back into her leg pocket, velcro wrinkling as it rebonds, "'n' I wouldn't mind gettin' a look at th' theater. Gotta say, I take t' that notion, settin' up shop there. But f'r no, like, practical reason," she folds her arms across her chest, "splittin' up don't sound so bad, jus' so's we c'n move quick on all this, but I dunno," she scans the room, the faces within, "we get inna scrape, what powers we packin', get us outta it? You, kid," she points at Kendall, "are pure gold with yer crazy goddamn thing you do. But if we split, only once place you c'n go 't one time, eh?"
"Generally they just seem to ask to see your ID. I think just the checkpoint guys have laptops for the database thing. Or the ones that patrol the red areas." Delilah scans over the maps again, hands busied with Walter's fists, now grabbing onto a couple of her fingers. He lets out some intermittent noises, coos and curious burbles of sound. "Mine is the real deal, and I've never been flagged for anything after getting it. I make regular trips in and out of Roosevelt only because I live there, my record is pretty plain. But regardless of that, it's just a matter of being careful, not drawing attention, and knowing when the patrols pass through."
"I have a gun." Delilah pauses as if that sounds odd coming out of her mouth, and it does. A bit. "I've shot people before, so it wouldn't be too difficult to take it." Her voice sounds a bit more flat, suddenly. Shot people- yeah- and killed them. "I have Samson too. He's trained. My ability still isn't back, though, it's been almost a year now. It'll be back eventually, I'm sure, but not today."
"The checkpoints are where things will get tricky, I think," Rue murmurs in agreement. "Illusions with patrols might be enough…" Red curls fall about her shoulders as she shakes her head. "I don't mind checking out the factory and the theatre. Well, any of 'em. I don't mind. I don't have an offensive ability. I see things that are invisible." It sounds dumb when she says it, but it sounds less dumb than when she used to say I see dead people. She turns her blue gaze to Sable. "We can go check out the theatre first."
From her place along the wall, Delia's eyes flit between the rest gathered and she chew nervously on her lower lip. "If— I think Delilah and Kendall should check out the factory, if you're bent on splitting up. He can do his illusion thing and she can pass a checkpoint." A brief glance is given to the baby before she looks up at his mother with an uncertain smile. "I can watch Walter while you go… It's safe here."
Relatively. At least safe enough for a baby.
Kendall glances at Delilah again and shifts his weight. "Yeah, I could do that." he agrees, although it'll be super awkward (in his mind). He did have a crush on her at one point, then she went and had a baby.
That Dee packed heat is not a surprise to Sable; she's gotten the lowdown on any number of Delilah's pre-maternal escapades. The look Delilah receives, then, is not one of surprise but rather one of fondness, one that she tries to wrestle from her features as she picks up on that dullness of tone. Right, right, shooting people isn't cute, even by association. Take notes, Sable. Notepad is handy.
"Sounds good. Meant t' get t' know y' a little better, sweetie," Sable says, dipping a nod towards Rue. "'N' you take care 'f my gal, kid," Sable says, giving Kendall a piercing squint, "I fully 'xpect y' t' be a gentleman 'n' sacrifice yerself on her behalf if needs be. If I ain't there, someone's gotta."
Because babies make her exempt from crushes? Tell Sable that! Delilah already seems tickled by the offer from Delia, smiling and glancing down to the baby. "I know you know what to do, and if you're sure that you can physically handle it, absolutely. He's not doing much yet, but I don't want to put any undue stress on you. But if you think it would be fine for you, I think you'd make a fine babysitter. What do you think, Walter?" But he doesn't have an answer for her, he's too busy gumming on his hand, and now she's laughing at what Sable tells Kendall.
"I would be fine checking the factory with Kendall. I think we should all take a camera along and get pictures, too- it also gives us an excuse if someone asks what we're doing there. Taking pictures, easy as pie. And we'll have pictures.
Rue nods. "Okay, cool. That settles that, then. Maybe I can talk to Brian into checking out the house with me? If we're thinking about using it for the kids, he should see it first hand, right?"
A brilliant smile is pointed toward Rue along with a quick nod. As Delia begins packing up the maps, she hands them along with pages torn from the notebook to Delilah, then Sable, and finally Rue. Not that she's doubting Kendall's maturity in handling the precious pieces of paper…
"I think that would be a great idea Rue, I'm pretty sure Brian would go too." The words pour out of her mouth as soon as the last map has left her hand and she wheels back toward the wall. Knitting her eyebrows together, she glances back at Rue and gives a sheepish one shouldered shrug. "I didn't get a hold of the guy for the supplies, but I will and I'll call you as soon as I do. Just let me know when you're going back to the island, okay?"
Kendall blinks at Sable. "You mean…. you want me to take another bullet to the chest and die for someone? I already came back to life once, I don't want to risk it again, but I'll do my best to protect her." he nods at her, then looks over. "Are we decided, then?"
"Bullet, blade, chargin' bull," Sable says, nodding affirmative to Kendall's question, "don' care much 'bout th' particulars. Jus' so's y' know, y' don' 'n' y' come back, y'll wish you had. So, y'all keep that in mind, y' hear?" A further squint, making sure the message is relayed. That done, she gives her own nod. "Y'all need another hand on any 'f these, times line up, y'all jus' tell. Ain't got no job, yet, so I might 's well be 'f some use. Jus' put me to it."
Delilah takes what is given to her and tucks it carefully away on the inside of her coat for now. "Decided, then. Everyone make sure to be timely and pack light, and we'll be right as rain. Hopefully no issues come up, but if there might be, don't shut your phones off." She has done things similar to this before, in a certain capacity, but never with such a small team- it was always less exploration and more casing a place before, so this should prove to be interesting.
"Hopefully our troubles are fortunate; that's really all we can hope for."
"No problem. I will be sure to get in touch with you again before I go," Rue assures Delia. "We'll figure out a way to make this work." The information passed to her is folded up carefully and tucked into the back pocket of her jeans. Then, she whirls away quickly and sneezes into the crook of her arm.
And her mask.
"Oh. Ew." What's visible of Rue's face scrunches up in disgust. "I'm… gonna go let myself out. I'll meet you in the lobby, Sable." She tilts her head back as though that would put distance between her face and the mask fastened to it. Then, she heads for the door. She thinks it's just dust, but… It's better to be safe than sorry.
