Participants:
| Scene Title | No Eating The Protege |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Adam's in the bar with someone he's decided will become his new Protege. Huruma's somewhat working and playing messenger when she's not being warned off of eating said protege. Abigail's just working away. |
| Date | April 30, 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.
Adam walks into the bar with little Amy following along. They appear to be having a conversational moment, in fact, he appears to be instructing her on something, "In Sweden, they have a beer that tastes like cherries. Cherries."
Amy blinks, seeming to ponder the taste of beer that tastes like that while following Adam. In fact, she raises an eyebrow. "Never heard of that one. Then again…" she makes a small frown at the next word she speaks. "Beer. Yuck." She seems to say the next thing as an afterthought, the kind of thing one could find oneself mentioning even though it's not entirely relevant. "My father might have heard of it, I suppose…"
If Huruma could hear Adam say that from across Old Lucy's, she would probably pop him in the head with the heel of her palm. He tells anybody whose ear he's got, that very same thing. He's probably tried to tell her several times. A beer that tastes like cherries, yes yes. Obviously Adam has not found Chocolate Beer. Or Pizza Beer. Chipotle Beer. Creme Brulee Beer.
Huruma sits with her back to the wall on one end of the bar, one elbow on the counter top, holding up her chin, and the other lying over her thigh as she examines the bar at this particular minute, for anyone that might happen to look like trouble. Her pupils skip over Adam on purpose completely, only to go back and settle on the young woman that seems to be with him. The tall woman is wearing familiar, tight black clothes, with enough of a sheen to them to add a tiny glow from the lights to the fabric; around her long neck and wrists are sets of thin, golden rings, seemingly stacking over top of each other.
Abigail's working behind the bar, busy beaver that she is. Red hair back in a ponytail, popping out drink after drink after drink as the orders come in. Huruma was glanced at now and then, the healer having finally returned back to her chemical induced equilibrium and was trying to keep the back of the bar running as smoothly as possible on her end. No reporters, no nothing to bother people or her. Life in Old Lucy's was back to normal.
Adam heads back to his back corner and sits down at the table. He motions for Amy to sit, "They check IDs here love, so I guess you'll have yourself a soda pop." he pauses, "I, myself, have to consider the ramifications of the drink I purchase."
Amy nods a little, taking a seat at the same table. "I don't really like the stuff, anyway," she mumbles quietly, apparently not having acquired a tooth for most alcohol-related drinks just yet. She looks about a little, seemingly unused to even being in places like this, if the slightly wide-eyed look on her features is anything to go by.
Huruma breathes sharply out her nose, looking from the brunette with Adam to the space past her hand where it cradles her face. Eventually, her eyes go down to Abby, where they sit for a great while, compared to the usual ticking glances that the girl usually gets during work hours. Huruma almost wishes that someone would make trouble by themselves- because then she will not need to make someone start something.
That's right. We do check ID's. Abigail pours a pitcher of beer, a pushes it across the counter to the customer, taking the money in exchange before glancing over to Huruma. She felt the look, who wouldn't feel that look. "Something wrong?" The redhead asks, wiping her hands on her apron with her head canted to the side a little.
Adam leans back for a moment, "Perhaps I'll try and dessert wine, a sherry or a port or something." he shrugs. He looks forward towards Amy, "So, I've been thinking about your family, Amy." he says, "I think I can find your father a job, but it will be…quite far from here. But I'd like you to stay and work for me so I can tutor you."
Amy listens to Adam. If she did notice that Huruma was looking at her, she doesn't let that fact show. But the way she was looking around showed a rather unbothered attitude. "Really? That… would actually make things easier," she says, with a nod. "I've been worrying what I was going to tell, now that I suddenly have an income." She hesitates for a moment. "The stuff we're going to do… is not exactly something I should be telling them of, no? It'll be easier to think of a good lie if they're far away…" She seems to quiet down after that, realizing she was almost babbling.
"Jus'a litt'e bit …hungry." Huruma responds, lifting her head from her hand and giving the moment a dismissive wave and pursing her lips. After a moment, she slinks to her feet, scanning the bar over her shoulder with a discerning eye towards some of the more inebriated individuals across the floor, laughing and generally enjoying themselves.
"Want me to place an order for you?" Abby inquires to the African woman before her eyes wander the bar. "Oh" Adam. And someone else. "Huruma… Mr. Monroe is here. I have.. another question for you" She keeps wiping her hands on her apron, even as concern flares up in the redhead. "He uhh.. He bought plane tickets… for my parents. Hotel room as well and apparently.. a car rented for them be driven around…." Blue eyes look into Huruma's. "That still a British thing?"
Adam considers Amy carefully, his look even and nods, "I would suggest, just for the sake of their worry, that you don't divulge too much information, yes." he pauses, "The job is in, of all places, Sweden."
Amy nods softly. "My father will fit in, then… and my mother can, eventually, too." She smiles softly. "A good choice," she compliments Adam, sighing a little. "Thank you, again." She drums her hand a little on the table, oh so briefly. "So…" she seems curious. "What do we do next? Is there anything I should prepare myself for?"
Huruma watches Abby speak, lips tightening together as the girl gets further into her words. Mmf. "Your… parents?" Her head tilts back, chin lifting up. "Not …entirely, no." Huruma's eyes narrow next, skirting off to the side to glance in the man's direction.
"My parents" Abigail glances over Adam's way. "Much as I appreciate that they're coming and i could surely use their visit Huruma, that is not a mere statue. And that.. Can you tell him that if he wants to get to know me, if he truly wants to be my friend, he could cease with the gifts? He wants to be a friend then he can.. do what the rest of my friends do. Show up for a drink, make small talk, go have dinner"
There's a waitress, snapping bubblegum, dressed in a plaid mini and a tiny black tank top. "What can I get fer ya?" And without skipping a beat "And I want to see your ID" Directed at Amy.
Adam mmms, "Well." he says after a moment, "First you'll have to meet Huruma, then I suppose you'll say goodbye to your parents and get ready to travel." as the waitress shows up, he says, "I'm going to try a Port. And she's just going to have a soda pop."
Amy blinks as the waitress shows up as well, seemingly taken aback a little by being required to show an ID so suddenly. She digs into her hoodie, however, glancing at Adam while producing a wallet. It seems that, if she truly has to, she can show her ID. It still wouldn't show anything other than that she is nineteen years of age, though. She takes the card out of the wallet, offering it to the waitress, if it is still required. The worst thing that can happen is that she'll be asked to leave, no?
One slender hand reaches up to Huruma's face to press at her temple in a gesture of mental pains. If Adam is being especially nice, he had best have a reason for it- which Huruma does not doubt he thinks he has. But is it really? "I will bring it up…" She smiles thinly, her lips curving up at the ends.
"Port and a soda" The waitress answers, a bit airheaded but she turns with a flip of the short skirt to gather some empty cups off another table and heads off towards the bar so she can fill the order and dump off the dirty cups. Abigail looks at Huruma and offers a little sigh. "I'm not offended, far from it just… " just her track record with new people. "I'll let you deal with him right now"
Adam looks back towards Amy, he nods towards the tall African woman in the corner, "That's Huruma. If I'm going to mentor you, you're going to have to get used to having her around. Some people believe she's scary, you might too. I suppose you'll just have to learn to deal with it."
Amy puts her card back into her wallet, and then the wallet goes back into the pocket of her open hoodie. Seems there was no need. She blinks a little, her eyes moving to rest on Huruma herself, a curious look forming in them. She shakes her head a little, then, offering Adam a small smile. "I'll manage." She raises an eyebrow. "You seem to be of a different opinion, though."
"If'e keeps it up, feel free t'smash somet'ing ove'his head." After a split second, Huruma adds. "He'll be fine." At least she can give Abby a truthful tip, right. And without another word to Abigail, Huruma scans the bar once more before sauntering leisurely over towards Adam and Amy's table, practically on cue- though happily- she does not know that fact. Her pale eyes regard Amy first, the inkspot pupils quivering in silent examination.
In her usually dark, smooth tones, Huruma addresses Adam quietly while doing so. "Abigail appreciates your …kind gestures, Adam-" The woman finally turns her face towards him, a faint expression of displeasure there. "Bu'they'ave t'stop. You'll end up scaring her away- an'I know you don'wan'that…" The purr that she now says this with seems to give it a 'tsk-tsk' quality.
Abigails not going near the table, her cheeks flushed red. Instead she's going back to her end of the bar, getting back to a customer who's been waiting. Keeping busy. The redhead feels bad, she felt bad, and occasionally between the makings of drinks, blue eyes flicker towards Amy with a soft smile and to Adam being conversed with by Huruma.
Port wine and soda, brought over by the plaid skirted woman and gone just as fast thanks to Huruma's prescence.
Adam glances towards Huruma casually, "Hello, Huruma, sit down." he leans back, "This is Amy, I appear to have adopted her." he listens to her talk of Abigail and chuckles, "No, the gifts won't scare her." he says, "What scares her are my intentions. When she sees I have none, she will be fine."
Amy gives Huruma a nod, and a small smile upon being introduced, offering the woman a solid, but yet demure, "Hello." The younger woman, even if not really afraid of Huruma just yet, does seem to have taken to Adam's words about her; best to approach with care. She blinks curiously when the other two discuss yet another person, yet pays no real heed to their words just yet. She doesn't seem like the type to butt in. Not now.
Huruma practically leers down her nose at Adam at first, finding a seat next to him without much thought on her part. Her eyes stay fixed on Adam as she does so. "She does no'feel comfortable getting gifts f'no reason. If you are so keen on her- she woul'be more keen on you if you simply tried t'get on her good side th'good ol'fashioned way…" There is a bit of a teasing sound at 'old fashioned', but it does not last. "She said no'moments ago- come in fo'a drink, small talk, maybe dinner. She loves tha'you bought her parents a trip- bu'per'aps bring your adorations- to a less extreme level." And as far as Huruma is concerned, she has made her point, and strays from any more on Abigail.
"So. You." Huruma turns her head to examine Amy again. Is she had whiskers or a forked tongue, they would be flicking alive. "Adopted?" The woman looks between Amy and Adam with a dart of her eyes, taking a soundless, deep breath as if to bring her tenseness to a fresh halt.
Adam hmms a bit as he says, "I saw her while I was recruiting…there was something…off about her. And as it turns out, she's got useful talents. So I'm going to make her my little protege. So.." he pauses, "Don't eat her." he looks thoughtful, "And try not to hit her."
Eat? Hit? Amy blinks, a shudder running through her. Neither of those sound very pleasant, to be sure. Although she could probably -live- with the second one at least. The newest turn this conversation took, however, obviously rendered the girl more frightful of the African woman. Her eyes avert a little. "It is as he says," she confirms, however much -her word- might be worth.
"I will try." No promises. Huruma leans back in the seat, briefly checking the background as usual for anybody she may need to go after. Nothing yet. After which, she calmly looks Amy over for a third time, her expression less taut and her position far more languid. It does not take a whole lot for her to relax, with the right timing. "Useful as in… your kind o'useful, o'another?"
Adam chuckles a bit, "I'm not sure how to answer that, love. But let's just say I'm probably taking her to Japan. So.." he lifts his shoulders, "Take that as it will. Though she needs quite a bit more training. But I have plans for this young one." he reaches over and ruffles Amy's short hair.
Jack and coke, vodka straight up, tequila shooters. The blonde works diligently at the bar serving customers as they come and go. No ones making trouble for the healer, though one or two give her a look - good ones- a few times. Bar towel over her shoulder, tank top showing a tattoo when she turns to put money in the til, and then back to serving customers. She does the same as Huruma, a glance over to the small group, watching.
Amy was quite unprepared for the sudden hair ruffling, her body almost jumping in surprise when it happens. Leaving her hair in a mess, not at all as kept as it was before, Amy eventually reaches up, trying to correct it as well as she can without a mirror, although it does not take a lot to fix it anyway. The move seemed to have made the girl even more uncomfortable. She seems curious. "Japan?" Although the question does not seem all too directed.
Huruma runs the tip of her tongue over the outer edge of her lip. "Training." She says the word with a bit of hesitance, and it seems like affirmation for her own behalf. At Amy's question of 'Japan', Huruma smirks just a little, peering sidelong to Adam.
Adam turns to Amy, "Oh, don't worry too much about it Amy, we're just taking a trip to Japan to…" he shrugs, "Do a lot of things and I couldn't see leaving you here all by your lonesome. If it makes you feel better, there'll be other kids your age there."
Amy blinks a little, seeming to get the point at that. "Ah, so we're going there to do, err, less than good things?" she asks, sounding quite sure of her assumption. She does not seem to mind that in any case, or if she does mind, she does not voice those concerns. "I'm aware we're going to be doing things I think are bad, so even if you don't tell me the details there's no need to hide that much."
Fade…