Participants:
| Scene Title | One Of Those Rare Times |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Gavyn and Abby run into each other in Central Park. |
| Date | November 16, 2010 |
It's a chilly morning this time of year, but mid November on the east coast is often chilly. It's crisp and early enough that mostly the die hard runners are out making use of the park, but occasionally a meandering visitor or someone hurrying to work can be spied. There's even one, dressed in loose fitting blue jeans and a black fleece, sunglasses upon her face, sitting on a bench. That one is Gavyn Mitchell.
Gavyn has taken the early hours as an opportunity to get outside and away from Frontline headquarters. And while Central Park holds some unpleasant memories, it's still a quiet place to go and think. The young woman sits alone, with arms folded across her chest as a shield against the chill, her head tilted slightly and a far away look angled to the ground.
It could be colder. It's a nice 12 degree's, light sweaters do well this cloudy day. IT's quiet in as much as the early hours allow it to be so. The children tucked away at the parks with their nannies, cyclists and joggers out, getting their exercise. Abigail's out, starting the trek of making her way to redbird after holing up for a few days and making the changes she needed to make.
Like change her haircolor to a drab brown and chop it back to within a few inches of it's life. She can't do a thing about her accent. Her bags left for the most part back at the cheap hotel room. She'll see if someone at redbird will go and pick it all up for her, easier that way than roaming the city with all the belongings that you could safely take.
A cyclist looses control however, a wobble then a veer as Abby's walking past the FRONTLINE officer, which clips the brunette, sending her stumbling, an elbow smacking into Gavyn's chest, followed by the rest of the ferrywoman with an oooph and the cyclist carries forward, uncaring of the havoc he just wreaked.
If not for her arms already folded across her middle, that elbow might've been worse, and even the minor injury could have been avoided if she'd been paying attention at all. Still, it'll leave a bruise and produces a grunt of surprise as Gavyn keeps one arm from being entrapped to catch the other woman. Her head comes up, just managing to save her sunglasses from being smashed, or worse.
Foul words that were meant for the abrupt encounter die as Gavyn looks from Abby and then to the quickly retreating cyclist. But if looks alone could maim… "You alright," she asks, addressing the brunette while trying to assist her upright or perhaps onto the bench to recover.
"Yeah" Nearly nose to nose with the other woman, sunglasses between them. "He hit me"
In fairness, Abby likely wasn't paying that much attention too or she could have moved out of the way. As it is, she'll have a bruise on her hip and she's moving, arms tangled up in her messenger bag and trying to straighten up too, look down and not directly at the other woman. "Sorry" See Robert. Five words, to a stranger, no more than that. "Sorry" Okay, six.
As much as she can, or is allowed, Gavyn helps Abby right herself. Mostly this attempt is made by trying to slide down to one end of the bench without too much more jostling. "Don't worry about it," she replies with a small rub to her chest. "No real damage."
Gavyn pushes her sunglasses further up onto her face, in case they'd slipped during the crash. "Cyclists seem to think they own the paths here," she continues with a look up at Abby. "You sure you're alright?"
"They tend to think they do. The cyclists that is. Worse when it's the scooter drivers" Abigail's taking stock of her personal self, a glance to the other woman then to the park in general. "I"m fine, just bruises to my ego, are you okay? I didn't just send my elbow through your chest or anything?:
Gavyn's head dips in a nod of agreement. People on wheels think themselves above those on feet, it's true. She rubs her chest where Abby's elbow found it then lifts a shoulder. "I'm fine, maybe a little bruised." She offers a faint grin to the brunette, though arms fold once again across her chest. "Don't worry about it."
"Can't help but worry" Abbys hand tightens on the strap of her messenger bag, another glance around before she's levering herself off of the bench. There's a pause, before she offers her hand out to Gavyn. She needs to do things that aren't her regular sort of thing, and shaking hands is one of them. "Sorry again, pleasure to meet .. you though"
Eyes flick to the hand then up to its owner. Gavyn stands as she accepts it, responding with a firm shake. "Yeah. Name's Gavyn." She pauses, watching Abby with a questioning expression.
'Gavyn" Gavyn it is. Abigail takes her hand back, no offer made for her own name and starts to scurry off away from the woman yet still along the path. Hands sink into the pockets of the zip up hoodie and shoulders hunch inwards, like someone trying to be invisible. Which, a lot of people do these days.
That's… odd. Gavyn watches Abby's retreat for a second, then starts after her. She doesn't rush, not wanting to spook the brunette further. But the strange, worried seeming reaction has the Frontline officer wondering and a little concerned. Eyes follow the other woman's form, observing carefully while she shadows at a small distance.
There's no stopping for drug deals, no switch of something between hands. Just one hand coming out of a pocket to rub at her hip. An occasional furtive glance around, but for the most part, the brunette is just like every other person on the street and in the park. Cautious of their surroundings in the wake of Martial Law, maybe worried about those pesky terrorists descending from somewhere. The only stop is for a cup of vendor coffee, two dollar bills traded for the blue and white grecian patterned cup.
Gavyn continues on passed Abby while she stops for coffee, but doesn't venture too far. She herself stops just beyond the stand and observes the exchange. Casually her hands slide into her coat pockets, a quick glance going over her shoulder opposite where Abby stands, then returns to the brunette. "You sure everything's okay," she calls out once the exchange of cash for coffee is completed.
Abigail looks up, coffee cup hovering an inch from her lips, brown eyes settled on the other woman and for a few moments, there's surprise that the woman seems to have trailed her. She nods, bobbing her head a few times, taking a tentative sip from the coffee to try and gauge the heat, swallows it quickly. "Yup" She's satisfied with the heat, one of those people that prefers scalding coffee to just plain hot coffee.
"Sorry, it's early, I haven't had my coffee yet. Really, I'm fine. But thank you, for wanting to make sure. No bones broken or anything"
Gavyn allows for a slow nod without actually looking away from the woman. The response still seems just a little strange, and it's one of those rare times where consideration for using her ability crosses her mind. But sunglasses stay firmly in place and after a moment she looks away. "Yeah, sure. —Watch out for those cyclists, ma'am." Words of caution added as an afterthought are tailed as she begins the way she'd come, only once looking toward Abby questioningly.
She'll find Abby still standing near the vendor, a puzzled look on her face as the FRONTLINE officer walks away. The young woman watching the other woman walk away with no small amount of trepidation. It's only when Gavyn is far enough away that Abigail turns, hightailing it as fast as she possibly can, cradling coffee to her chest. She just needs to make it to Redbird without anyone wanting to see her ID. That's all.
