Participants:
| Scene Title | Perfectly Messed Up |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Kincaid takes Gina out on their first real date. It's broken up by an uninvited third wheel, and the past the couple has been running from comes between them. |
| Date | January 14, 2011 |
Central Park: Belvedere Castle
Constructed from the same stone as the Vista Point which supports it, Belvedere Castle seems to rise out of the earth itself. The miniature Gothic castle is easily visible from a distance, courtesy of both its height and the American flag fluttering from the turret's pinnacle. Its windows overlook views of Turtle Pond, the Delacorte Theater, and the Great Lawn. The interior, however, is anything but Gothic; the halls on both floors are filled with telescopes, microscopes, paper-maché birds, skeletons, and feathers, all laid out as parts of an interactive exhibit. In the Henry Luce Nature Observatory, visitors can borrow binoculars, notepads, maps, and guidebooks with which to study the wildlife of the park.
It isn't really warm enough for a date like this, but that didn't stop Kincaid from picking up the "young" brunette and bringing her down to the park. The sun still hangs low in the sky, casting a orange hue on the middle of the park, dappled light hitting the partially frozen Turtle Pond. In some places it's solid and reflective, in others it moves and ripples with the slightest of breezes.
At least the interior of the Castle cuts off the biting wind, and gives shelter from some of the cold, as well as telescopes and other displays open to the public.
"It's too bad I only saw this place after the bomb," Kincaid comments, motioning to the telescope so that his date can take a turn. "It's still beautiful now, especially if you look north, but… there's still signs." Reminders of the devastation. "I know you didn't like the cold, but I think you look pretty cute in fluffy boots."
Gina blushes, reaching out to briefly grasp Kincaid's good hand in a show of appreciation for the compliment. It's not quite the same with gloves layered between the touch, but the intention is still there. "I wish I'd seen this place when it was still…" Intact might be a good word to supply here.
Instead, Gina shrugs. She scuffs the toe of one of those fluffy white boots on the flooring beneath them, a small smile on her face. A pink hat with a pom-pom on top, and braided tassels hanging down from the ear covers keeps her head warm. It wasn't meant to match her white trench coat which has candy apple red buttons, but it does nearly match the fuzzy pink sweater that peeks out where the lapels part. She'd have rather worn a skirt, this being a date and all, but in this weather she had to settle for her white skinny jeans.
When she leans forward to use the telescope, she sticks her backside out a little bit for his benefit. "The cold's not so bad," she admits. "I just have flashbacks to last winter and worry it'll never end."
"I heard about that," Kincaid says with a shake of his head. "I've always liked winter, and the cold, but I don't think I would have wanted to live through the winter you had out here last year." Squeezing her hand back, he moves along to the next telescope, to make sure it's fully intact before he looks through it a long moment. "It's going to be a clear night, at least— I think we'll be able to see some stars, though not as much as if we were outside the city."
Even in the middle of the park, there's still enough lights to make the stars seem dull, and many of them invisible. Even with the aid of a telescope that works.
"So were you stuck in one of the shelters during the winter? I hope it was one of the good ones."
Gina is all for a nice view, but she's not exactly one to enjoy intellectual stimulation. Her look through the telescope doesn't last long before she's meandering to lean against the wall instead. Despite her lack of interest in what she can see beyond Belvedere Castle, she's still plenty focused on conversing with Kincaid. "I…"
She hesitates, almost admitting that Niki was the one who weathered the harsh winter of the previous year. "I kind of hibernated. Had the company of friends, though. Just couldn't do all the things I normally love." Gina's lips tick upward in a small smirk. "That part was a huge downer. With it behind me, it doesn't feel like it was so bad anymore. But if I really dwell on it, it was that bad. Especially with… so many people getting sick." That wipes the smile off her face again.
So many people getting sick. That draws his eyes down and away briefly, but Kincaid doesn't stick his face against the telescope again. Hands going into the pockets of his dark dress coat, he moves closer to her, but keeping far enough back that he can admire the view a little. There's something extra serious in his dark eyes.
"I hope you didn't know anyone who got sick— or at least not any of them who were unlucky. I… it wasn't as common where I was, but it still happened. It was still pretty bad when it hit." And maybe, from the solemn look on his face, he knew a few, or just genuinely feels sympathy for those who did.
"I know this wasn't the kind of date you probably wanted— but I hear the Tavern on the Green is open now, and despite the recent scares, I bet the food is still good. We can go there after this, once the sun sets all the way."
There's a moment of quiet contemplation somewhat uncharacteristic for Gina, called for by the topic of conversation. At least until Kincaid speaks up. "You mean d'Sarthe's?" The old Tavern on the Green. She tilts her head to one side and thinks about saying no. For Niki's sake.
"Okay. Sure. Never been there before. I've heard… things." Not necessarily good ones, but Gina has heard plenty about d'Sarthe and his operations. "Yeah. Let's do it. It'll be an adventure, huh?" A glance over her shoulder and out at the world beyond the walls proves that sunset isn't far off. When she turns back to Kincaid, she's smiling and holding out her hands. "C'mere and warm me up a minute."
"Well, I'm old fashioned and like calling things by their better names," Kincaid says with a grin, moving closer as if beckoned. "And d'Sarthe's is just… egotistical." It makes him laugh a bit, as he removes his ungloved hands from his pockets and takes hers, the smile strained, but perhaps due to the cold. Maybe part of him realizes that it may be dangerous for her.
But whatever it is, he takes another step closer, lowering his head the few inches difference they have in height to kiss her gently.
The last rays of sun just now pour into the old castle through the large windows, to illuminate them in a pale glow of a winter sunset.
Concern is fleeting and banished with Kincaid's lips find Gina's. She reaches only to take his good hand, resting her other hand at his hip so as not to accidentally hurt him. When the kiss is broken, she's left smiling softly. "'Caidy… This is perfect."
If perfect involves a pair of large hands grabbing fistsfuls of Kincaid's jacket from behind and wrenching him away from Gina, then yes. It is.
Perfect.
The young man won't know he's being thrown up against the nearest wall until the breath has been slammed from his lungs, and while someone less aggressive might pin him there with an arm shoved across his throat, he has the misfortune of discovering that his attacker is among the most aggressive people he knows when provoked.
Gina doesn't have time to react, it happens so fast, and her response time is not entirely to blame. "I should kill you," Walter snarls, but instead settles for hurling Kincaid down the stone stairwell leading to the first floor of the castle before he thunders after him.
What might have been perfect certainly became something more painful. Kincaid can't stop the forceful toss down the stairs, anymore than he can keep his grip on Gina. "Fuck," the dark eyed man growls as soon as he has the chance to even react verbally, which happens to be on his trip halfway down the flight of stairs. He does try to catch himself, with his bad hand, but also with the hand that can't even feel the way his hand connects with the handrail.
It would have hurt a lot more on his other one. This one pulls him up short, before he tumbles all the way down, straining his arm in a way he's not prepared for. Not all of the tumble was without injury, as those lips that kissed hers are cracked when he looks up, blood shining on the lower lip. There might even be bruises in other places, but that's the most visible.
"Kincaid!" Gina cries out when her boyfriend (however tenuous the term is or should be) is thrown down the stairs like a ragdoll. "Stop!" When the attacker pursues, she goes chasing after them both, chunky snow boots sounding heavily in the stairwell. Before she reaches where the two men have stopped, she uses the steps as a platform to make a flying leap at Walter's back. No frenzied scream accompanies the jump, however, proving she has learned something about restraint from Jessica.
If only she had the presence of mind to realise that, if successful, the momentum will probably carry her into Walter, and send them both tumbling right on into Kincaid.
So, really, she didn't learn much from Jessica at all.
There's a woman on Walter's back. This would be totally primal under different circumstances, but previously made observations about combined momentums and what happens on stairs turn out to be very much correct. He lets out a shout of warning, too late, and the sequence of events that follows ends with a tangle of limbs and heavy, bruised bodies on the landing between floors.
Walter barks out something that sounds like you crazy bitch, a hand with splayed fingers attempting to steer her face away from his head so he doesn't accidentally elbow her in the nose or throat when dislodging himself from to pile, or trying to loop his other arm around Kincaid's throat so he can choke him to death.
It isn't really clear which.
The problem with having caught himself— Kincaid had a little ways left to fall. "Gina no!" he tries to yell, but it's too late— they're already coming down toward him, with Walter's hand outstretched. Reaching up with his own hand, he grips the wrist of the redhead as all of thee of them fall the rest of the way, with him landing on the bottom.
Perhaps he does think that arm meant to strangle him.
"Wa— " he grunts out, a sound that seems disjointed, but also cut off. Not just from the air getting knocked out of him, and the hard floor he landed on. And the bodies on top of him. "What are you doing here?" he does manage to get out, voice wheezed out, pained, even as his eyes darken as his ability tries to compensate. There's only so much his body can compensate for.
Gina only scrambles back enough to avoid catching an elbow in the face, but also to aim a punch at Walter's kidney.
She hits like a girl.
And hurts her hand. Gina's recoiling, tumbling backward onto the steps they just came crashing down, cradling her hand to her chest. Shit, she misses having superhuman strength.
That hand reaches out again to wrap itself around Walter's calf. There's an uncomfortable warmth radiating from her hand, felt through his clothing, as well as the bite of pink-painted nails. "Let go of him," the brunette woman warns, her lips curling into a sneer.
Walter's mouth has contorted into a similar snarl, and he snaps a vicious look over his shoulder all teeth and no lips like a fox with its foot caught in a trap. Blue eyes dart down toward the hand clutching his calf. It's an accurate comparison.
He doesn't let go of Kincaid, not right away. Instead, he loosens the arm around his neck enough for the other man to breathe a little easier and speak without rasping. "I think the better question," he grits out, "is what you and your lovely lady friend are doing here. Kincaid."
"Gina, stop," Kincaid repeats, with as much force as he can with his voice forced out of his throat. Even with the pressure off, it still comes harshly, but a little louder than before. Pain twists his face, and another deeper emotion, that shows in his eyes, but only Walter can really see it from where he is. The lower light at the bottom of the stairwell, and the light that's been cut off from the sunset, show a lot of shadows and a lot less illumination.
"It's none of your business what we were doing here." The last has a pause after it, like there's something left out in that sentance. "Get off me," he adds, pushing against the arm with his hand, but not nearly as strong, and gravity is against him in this case as well.
"I said, let go. Let him up. Now." That hand feels much hotter against Walter's leg now and Gina's(?) grey-blue eyes flicker to Kincaid when he tells her to stop. "Does he need to go on living?" she asks with all the hope that the answer is no so that she can try out the full destructive capabilities of her new ability on a live target.
"Tch," says Walter without actually saying anything at all. It's more of a noise that he makes at the front of his mouth behind his teeth, and it's accompanied by the sharp sensation of him winding Kincaid's hair around his fingers. He's isn't getting off of him, and he isn't letting him up, even though there's a woman attached to his leg capable of scalding his flesh off his bones. Smoke sizzles from his pant leg.
"I'm gonna go out on a limb," he says, voice coming out in the form of a thin canine hiss, which is what happens when you're in a fair amount of pain, "and guess that you haven't told her you've already got a girlfriend."
Already got a girlfriend.
And that's when Kincaid's eyes close and his hand relaxes on the arm, the fight draining out of him. He's starting to be grateful that his hair has been kept fairly short, but regretting that he's allow it to grow shaggy at the same time.
"No," he says in a different toned voice, more pained than angry, but then he starts trying to get up again. Not to get out of Walter's grasp, from the way his suddenly lighter colored eyes are looking at the woman attached to his leg— as much as he can see her with his head forced down against the grip on his hair. "Let him go. Don't, don't hurt him. He's the only chance we— he's— if we're— " Each time he bites off what he's going to say, until he finally says, "Just don't burn him."
"I'm already married," is the woman's response. Somewhere inside, she must be upset. Must be. From what Kincaid knows of Gina, knowing that she's just the piece on the side must hurt.
Jessica couldn't care less. "I should kill you both," is her growled response, finally releasing her hold on Walter's leg, but not dialling down her power. Red-blue alternating is still visible on the surface of her skin. Her gloves are ruined, left as so much ash on Walter's pants and the steps of the castle. She pulls herself to her feet and stares imperiously down at the two men. Jessica has had a lot of practice at that.
Whether or not she's actually any good at it depends on the person on the receiving end of the stare. Walter snorts, and he's not so riled up to discover the Sanders woman and Kincaid together that he's about to bash his head against the floor out of spite when he isn't fighting back. His parents have instilled a sense of honour in him, warped or not, and the same force that compelled him to throw the other man down the stairs in the first place has him relinquishing his hold on his hair, then his throat.
It does not, however, stop him from heaving a wad of spittle at Kincaid's face as he drags himself to his feet so he stands above Jessica and not the other way around. A hand goes to his shoulder and comes away tinged pink where blood has soaked through the gauze bandage he wears beneath his open jacket. "Go ahead," he invites her. "I know someone who'll be much better off if you do."
"Fuck you, Reynard," Kincaid spits out once he can start to get to his feet, and it really is spit, from the sudden slimey red liquid that hits the floor as he gets up. "I'm sorry I lied to you, Gina, The past wasn't supposed to matter." But the past always comes back, sneaking around shadowed corners.
Throwing you down the stairs.
"God damnit, I— I didn't know this would happen." The anger is suddenly back, and as he gets to his feet, and this time he's the one that launches at Walter, aiming a punch at the man's face. One that he will likely regret later too, considering it's with his right fist.
"Bastard." The fight isn't over, it seems. "You should never have come back!"
Jessica had been just about to reach out and grab Walter by the throat and oblige him when Kincaid seems to have other plans. She actually steps back, and it's no accident that she goes up a step to give her back the inches between her and Walter's heights. Impassively, she watches to see if the two continue to pummel each other.
They do. Or at least Kincaid does. "Why? So you can have June and Lu all t'your—" Self, presumably. Walter is arrogant enough or thinks too poorly of Kincaid to see the punch coming, and the fist connects with his face with enough force to undo all the progress his nose has made since Teodoro last broke it. His head cracks against the wall. He staggers, looks like he might go down and even takes to a knee on the ground with blood streaming from both his nostrils.
It puts him at the level to tackle Kincaid around his midsection, both his large, muscular arms hooking around the other man's waist. All Jessica has to do is blink and they're both gone before they hit the floor.
She isn't entirely surprised when the two men disappear. She's seen enough in the four years since the revelation of the Evolved to recognise the use of an ability like that. All Jessica does is scowl at the space they occupied and then bring her hands up to watch her ability draw back. She shoves her hands into her pockets and continues down the stairs.
"That is why we can't have our own lives."