Participants:
| Scene Title | On Danger, Visiting Dignitaries, and Lunch |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Two strangers have a conversation concerning the aforementioned subjects. |
| Date | December 6, 2008 |
Washington Irving High School
Early afternoon finds the ruined school as derelict and desolate as it has remained for the past two and a half weeks. The frame of the building is more or less intact, with surrounding structures more scorched than damaged — aside from a few windows which have since been replaced — but blackened and scarred by explosive fire, it is a mournful sight. The banner has been taken down, sequestered as evidence; there is no color on this wintry day to alleviate the grave severeity of soot-stained brick and hollow windows.
The people who regularly travel this street have become inured to the looming presence of such a fractured building, entirely at odds with the otherwise mundane block, but Laura isn't one of them. Bundled up against the weather in a dark green coat and a cerulean scarf, she stands near one corner of the building with her hands idly stuffed in her pockets, studying the ruin with mingled regret and mild interest.
Very purposefully, a woman with a dark bob haircut and even darker sunglasses, strides up to the building. She adjusts the collar of her high-neck, black wool coat as a breeze ruffles her hair. But as interested as she is in the structure, Steve Caiati is just as interested in the area surrounding as well. "Sad sight," she murmurs quietly to the woman in green and blue.
She has company — above and beyond the occasional passer-by, that is. "Oh, hi!" Laura exclaims, turning to look at the new arrival. Her expression is a little confused at first — the kind of look you give someone you're not certain you've met — but it resolves as the woman seems to decide she doesn't know Steve. "Yes, it really is. It's one thing to hear about it on the news, but this… it's not the kind of thing you ever think is really going to happen."
"Do you walk by here a lot?" Steve tilts her head curiously. "Is there a lot of traffic here?" She slips one leather glove off to reach into her coat pocket and check the buzzing BlackBerry there. She presses two or three buttons and then tucks the device away again.
"I don't," Laura admits, her regard of Steve a little more directly curious than is really polite. "So I really don't know." She looks to either side, considering the street. "It doesn't look like too much, though. At least not for the past few minutes, or when I walked down this way from the bus stop. You know, for whatever that's worth." The slightly older woman gives her companion an apologetic but unabashedly cheerful smile.
Steve smiles back, brows furrowing for a moment and dipping beneath the rims of her sunglasses. "President Elect Rickham is supposed to be coming by here. Do you think it will be dangerous?" She almost feels bad for playing coy, but the best way to gather information on these sorts of things is from people that don't think you're looking for a certain type of answer.
Those blue eyes widen with surprise, around a blink in Steve's direction, then narrow thoughtfully. "Is he really? I guess I should pay more attention to the news, huh?" Laura remarks, casting another visual survey of the street. She fiddles absently with the lay of her scarf in the meantime. "Um… Well, it looks just about normal, really. I didn't even mind walking by, and I've been in some pretty bad areas before."
"Normal is good," Steve decides. "I haven't been to the city in so long. It's amazing how much things can change so quickly." Whether she's referring to the bomb or not is uncertain. "Say, do you know if that sandwich place is still open in Little Italy? Gosh, what was it called?" She tips her head up as though the answer might fall from the sky. "Piccolo's? No, that's not it…"
"Little Italy? You mean Piccoli's? I do that all the time," Laura admits, grinning widely. "Really good sandwiches." She pauses for a moment, and shrugs in belated response to Steve's first comment. "I've only been here about a year; came out to see the east coast and wound up staying a while. So I don't have the first clue what changes you mean!"
"That's probably for the best." Steve nods her head slowly. "Piccoli's. Right. They're still good, huh? I think I'll head there for lunch." She rolls her eyes as the BlackBerry buzzes again. She procures the phone and stares at the screen, the very faintest of frowns forming at the corners of her mouth. She deposits the phone back in her pocket once more and flashes a brilliant smile. "Do you know where I might find the Linderman Building, by the way?"
Laura's attention is drawn to the noisy Blackberry, but snaps back up to Steve as she resumes speaking. "Uh…" The woman looks nothing so much as poleaxed, having been blindsided by the question in more ways than one. She gets it under control after a moment, surprise seguing into recognition. "You know, I think I do. This big old place down in the Financial District. Umm… somewhere around Cedar Street or something like that?" A pause. "Maybe not. I never can remember what anything's named here," Laura admits, lifting a hand.
Steve shrugs, cheerful expression remaining. "I'm sure I'll find it just fine. Thanks so much for your help! Ah…" She pauses, smile turning a bit quirky, "I'm sorry. I didn't get your name. I'm Steve. — Short for Stephanie." Because everybody inevitably asks.
Since Steve takes her ignorance in stride, Laura smiles right back at the woman. "You're welcome — though I'm pretty sure I wasn't much help!" she admits. "I'm Laura. Not short for anything. My parents were dreadfully uncreative." In some respects, that might even be true. One hand sketches a jaunty wave. "Enjoy your lunch, Steve!"
"A pleasure, Laura. Have a good day!" On that note, Steve turns on her heels and heads back the way she came.
 December 6th: A Funny Way to Show Concern |
 December 6th: Trust |