Participants:
| Scene Title | Perpetuity Revealed |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Outside the bar, Abigail inquires as to motives again with Adam and discuss the differences between 5 dollars and a couple thousand whne you've lived for a really long time. Int he end a compromise is met and secrets are revealed even though one wasn't so secret. |
| Date | April 30, 2009 |
Outside Old Lucy's
Street in Greenwich.
Abigail left the bar, her shift over, stuff gathered from her locker in the back, sweater on and out the front door. The bar will still be open for another hour, last call's already gone off thanks to the stupid curfew that is still in effect. The redheads ponytail swings from side to side as she hitches the messenger back to her shoulder.
The scooter sits outside, locked up, untouched, parked beside a couple motorcycles and looking so very much out of place. Much like it's owner in the scheme of things in the bar. But Abigail's not going to be heading home right away and so the Healer sits on the back end of her green ride and gets ready to wait for when Adam heads out.
Adam comes out of the bar, leaving behind Huruma, Amy and at some point, Lita maybe? At any rate, he steps out of the bar and flicks up his collar. He slips his hands into his trouser pockets and begins to make his way away from the bar.
"Mr. Monroe"
Abigail's southern twang drifts over after she takes those few moments to realize that it's him who came out.
Adam looks over his shoulder and when he sees that it's Abby, he pauses and turns around, "Yes, love?"
"Why did you do it?" He knows what she's talking about. How could he not. The redhead stays parked on the ass end of Lazarus, blue eye watching him with only city lights and the moon out to illuminate the pair.
Adam tilts his head for a moment and he thinks about it. "Because you missed your parents and they missed you." he says, "It seemed like the right thing to do." he considers, "If I had given you a calling card to talk to them for free, would you have minded?"
"There's a vastly big difference between a calling card Mr. Monroe and a pair of first class plane tickets, a first rate hotel and a car to drive them around. You have to concede that" She's torn and it's easily seen on her face. Abigail has always been easy enough to read by Huruma, but she's also fairly good at being read by everyone else. The woman wears her emotions like clothes.
"It's too much. For a man I barely know. Friends help you carry your groceries and sit with you while you finish screaming from a nightmare. They… make you lasagna so that you have something to eat while your studying for classes and come in and make you smile while your working and order silly drinks that you've never heard of and make you learn to make them"
Adam shakes his head some, "Except, Abigail, it's not different. It's only different to you because you can't afford it. For me, the cost of the calling card and the cost of a week in New York might as well be the same thing." he glances up at the street light and then back towards the girl, "Now, true. I wouldn't do it for just anyone, but there are people I would do it for. And I told you, you need to be protected. And what better way to protect you than to let you see your parents." he pauses, "Are you afraid I've got untoward intentions? I don't, to be honest Abigail, I've got enough women problems and I've only been back in New York for a couple weeks. Are you afraid I want your healing? I don't, I have methods of your own. I want nothing from you. And I only want to give you kindness. You believe God works in mysterious ways, yes? Perhaps he gave you your power for His reasons alone? Well, perhaps He moved me to give you kindness all the same."
"Not untoward intentions. No. If you had untoward intentions, Huruma would have told me and you'd be standing there with a shot glass embedded in your forehead. As it is she told me to just crack something upside your head if you get to be too much" Abigail's eyes shift to the street light as well then back down to the blonde man. "I can be protected, but if god intends for me to endure a trial again, then.. no amount of protecting will stop such from happening" She pushes away from the scooter regardless, coming up to her feet proper.
"You have another healer? Or are you gifted in a fashion as well Mr. Monroe?" Curiosity flares. "God works in mysterious ways. The only reason I'm not asking that you take the tickets back is because of my parents and how delighted they were to be coming here. No more gifts please Mr. Monroe. They make me uncomfortable. Not because of intentions, but because I'm a firm believer in working for what I earn. It's been a hard bitter pill to swallow to take help from friend in order to go to school and get the help for my emotions, please. No more gifts except that of your company, or… time"
Adam spreads his hands, "You can't ask me to never give a gift again Abigail. Besides.." he says, "You do work for them. Through the good works you do, through the people you help, through being the person you are." his head tilts to the side, "Perhaps we can discuss them, ,rather. I am a generous man, after all, asking me to stop giving gifts to people I like is like asking me to go away." he pauses and looks at Abby earnestly, "You aren't asking me to go away, are you?" flitting away all her other questions.
"I didn't say no more gifts period. Just no more of the variety that…" Make her feel bad for taking it, even though she adores it with all her head. She'll take a page from his book and avoid the question. "If I was asking you to go away I wouldn't have placed an order an hour ago with our suppliers for Lindman Kriek" Abigail answers, watching him. "No one else I know will drink it"
Adam chuckles at that. "Kriek, hm?" he watches her carefully, "And see, there you have done a kindness for me." he pauses, "I'll do what I can. You must understand, Abby. Sometimes I can't tell what will be too much and what won't you see? Fifty dollars, two thousand dollars? What are those costs to me? You must be patient with me." he reaches over now that she's closer, patting her arm lightly, "Will you do that? If you think it's too much. Take the gift, thank me and say to yourself 'It's that he doesn't know any better.' Can you do that?"
"Ordering a few bottles of cherry ale holds no candle to the cost when it is compared to plane tickets Adam Monroe. What on earth do you do, that you don't…" Abigail shifts enough to avoid Adam's light pat the arm, which means he gets only the brush of fingertips against the cotton of her sweater. "… recognize a difference between a five dollar phone card, and a good… couple thousand dollars in travel costs"
Adam tilts his head and hmms to himself thoughtfully, "It's actually a long story Abigail. It's not just the money I have it's.." he pauses, how does he explain how things have changed costs in his life so often that it's not always easy to tell what something's supposed to be worth, "It's complicated." he frowns thoughtfully, "Perhaps sometime, I will tell you about it."
"Do you ever remember what it was like… to afford something on your own, to hold it in your hands and know that it was all you?" Both hands are in her sweater pockets. "And I don't like being touched. I'm not saying it because it's another thing I want you to stop, it's just.. I don't like being touched. I never have"
Adam hmms, "Must make it hard to have a boyfriend." he says absently. He considers Abby quietly, "It's never that simple, Abigail. Nothing we own is ever really ours just because of us. We just put primacy of our own actions on it. We forget the little deals, we forget the little helps given to us. And, I'm not robbing you of that. I haven't given you everything…just things you wanted that you couldn't have afforded. Yeah? I don't think that makes me a bad man. I'm not paying your rent or buying you a television. I'm taking care of the wistful things, the things you wouldn't have otherwise." he looks at her, "You have to know I don't do it to make you uncomfortable. I recognize it's become an unfortunate byproduct. And I'll do what I can to ease it."
"I don't have the energy to manage someone else's ego and life attached to my own" Abigail shifts on her feet from left to right. "Your not.. a bad man. Your just.. wanting to share with someone unwilling. One has to balance one's pride with ones wants and needs. I can afford to visit them, it's not a matter of money. Money can always… be obtained. it just requires more hours at work or a second job. Or I can take coin for gods gift. I could walk right up to St. Lukes and offer my services full time for probably, just about any fee I could fathom and they'd likely pay it" Abigail glances towards the bar door then back to Adam. "You can heal as well can't you"
Adam considers Abigail gently as she asks her question. He looks around for some moments before he turns back to Abigail, "Well." he says, "That's an awfully private question." he purses his lips as he considers this for a moment before he says, "Yes…yes I can. Not quite the same as you, though. It's a tad more…" he hmms, "Technical."
"Your the one flying my parents up to see me Adam Monroe and had a statue sent to my residence. I think that we're at that level of privacy at the moment" But he is. A healer somewhat. "No ones ever quite the same when it comes to god's gifts"
Adam mms a bit, "I suppose that's true." he says, "I don't know if people would call me a healer, but I can. And have, when it was necessary." he looks over Abigail. "But you see?" he questions, "You give your gift freely to all those in need and I don't. Perhaps taking care of you is my penance for my selfishness."
"I hate being taken care of" Abigail points out to the other man.
Adam chuckles, "Then perhaps it's penance for both of us." he laughs at this joke quietly on his own for some moments before he looks back at Abigail, "Why do you hate being touched?" he asks.
"God didn't always give me the control over being his conduit that he gives me now. Everyone touching me, taking care of all their ills and hurts. It wears a person down. Recently, more because of a man and his own ability. He liked to … touch, had to touch, to make you do what he wanted you to do or to just… Do a lot of things"
Adam hmms at that for a moment. He's quiet, thoughtful for several moments before he says, "I'm immortal." as easily as he said 'My car's around the corner.' "There, Abigail. You know a deep dark secret of mine."
The redheads head cants to the right just a fraction, as if digesting his words. Blue eyes studying him carefully.
"I killed a man three months ago Adam Monroe." Not so easily spoken as what he said and how he said it, but she turns around then, pulling her keys from her pocket. "he was immortal too"
Adam chuckles a bit at that. Not knowing the details, but clear on the time line, "Kazimir wasn't immortal…not really. Hell, he wasn't even that old, he hadn't even been a hundred yet." he chuckles to himself, remembering the man, "He wasn't always like that, you know."
"Who told you it was Kazimir Volken Adam Monroe" The key's worked into the lock just under the seat so she can exchange her messenger bag for her helmet and resecure it.
Adam spreads his hands, "Because there's not that many people claiming to be immortal around." he says, "And it seems interesting that three months ago is when both he was gone and you say you killed your immortal."
"I suppose that it would be a small social circle" Abigail murmurs. "How long have you walked the world Methuselah?" The locks coming off the scooter, Lazarus painted in gold lettering just under it's seat, the little golden shimmery cross painted on the back end of the vehicle.
Adam tilts his head a moment as he watches Abigail start to get herself ready, "Does it matter, Abigail?" he questions, "A long time." he pauses, "Are you going to keep my secret?" he doesn't seem concerned, per se, but rather curious.
"I will. So long as your not intending to kill of 95 percent of the worlds population" Why does everyone ask her that? "You won't kill me. My death is already marked out, probably on some shoreline somewhere Adam. Watching the sunset and feeling no pain. Even you can't protect me that day. But the same as you called me Job, even god needs a Methuselah" She's smiling then, even as the helmet descends to cut off her red hair from sight, visor up so that her face is unobstructed from view. "So." Swinging her leg over her scooter and looking over at him.
Adam mms, "No, I'm not." yet. He watches Abigail and shrugs, "I didn't say I could protect you from everything Abigail. Only that I want to protect you." he pauses for some moments and then turns and begins to walk away, seeing their conversation appears to have finished.