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| Scene Title | Please State Your Emergency |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Old Lucy's is the scene of what appears on the surface to be another random act of violence in Greenwich Village. |
| Date | January 31, 2010 |
Winter days in New York means that the doors open fast, people shuffle in, the door closes just as quick behind the individuals coming into Old Lucy's. This time last year there was impending apocalypse, viruses, vanguard wreaking havoc and bridges closed to remove bombs under the cover of evolved initiated weather. This time? The apocalypse had come and gone again, Vanguard are a distant memory for most and lives have started anew.
The boss lady has been back a few hours, customers are coming in to enjoy the heat, music and booze and celebrate the last day before they have to return to work. Abigail's got her sleeves up baring tanned arms and digging around the bar for things, Brenda's flipping cups and showing a bit of flare in her presentation while people sidle up to the bar to get their booze. The wallpaper has gone unnoticed so far. It's another typical evening in one of the popular bars in Greenwich Village.
Donna steps in from outside and shivers at the sudden change of temperature. She grabs her jacket and starts unbuttoning it as she makes her way inside and away from the door. She loosens her scarf to expose her face then begins the process of cleaning her glasses as she steps to the bar. Waiting to catch the attention of someone behind the bar she asks, "I want something hot. Like hot chocolate and booze or coffee and booze. Got a good suggestion?"
Noriko slips into the bar, the hydrokinetics eyes looking around for a moment or three, just to see if there is anyone she might recognize. Finding no one, she shrugs her shoulders a little while moving towards the actual bar. Slipping into it, she waits for someone's attention behind the bar to be on her and she says in a soft voice, "Screwdriver, please."
She's stood at the back way in for a few moments longer than she often might, debating the final turn of doorknob. It's not that Huruma doesn't want to see Abby, finally- It's just that talking over a computer about things that have happened is slightly easier for explanations. The last thing that Huruma wants to start is one of those 'it's a long story' nights. When the tall woman finally decides to trade the freezing cold for toasty warm, breath puffing a cloud of cold mist as she opens the door to creep silently inside.
When she does appear to the public eye, it is in the frame of the door behind the bar, one elbow leaning into the wood and the other hand solidly on her other hip. There's enough space between her and the door that if anyone needs to be going back there in that instant- they can just duck past. The red blouse is rather stark against the light, black slacks making her appearance rather Djinni-like, torso coming first.
"You are back." Huruma's voice is unmistakable, and the statement directed to the very tanned Abigail.
"Faucet!" Brenda recognizes Noriko for who she is. Here earlier in the day. "God, did you miss me that much!" Brenda blows a kiss to Noriko and then a wink as she sets about to making the screwdriver. "Screwdriver, i'll tell you what I'd like to screw, that hot piece of ass that sat beside you earlier, mmmhhhm, though there's a firefighter in here somewhere….."
Abigail though, noticing that everyone else is busy with the clamoring throng opts to take care of Donna. "Hey, hot huh. Got coffee, hot chocolate, can irish any of them up, can make nearly anything here" The Brunette owner offers up to her even as Huruma is making an appearance behind her. She looks over her shoulder, brown hair slithering from the back to the front as she reaches for a tall glass mug. "Huruma. Yeah, did what I needed to in Mexico. I see you are too" She offers a smile for the black woman. "Staying or heading back" There's a flicker of blue eyes to Donna. "Bouncer. Best one here. so, poison with your hot drink or straight up?"
Noriko grins at Brenda for a moment or two, before she replies, "No, I came to collect on that offer for you get up on the bar." She chuckles lightly before saying, "I bet you would, he wasn't that bad looking, but I tell, I'd rather be sleeping with someone who is more… cushiony in all the right places." She winks at Brenda, tapping her nails against the bar.
Donna watches the activity behind the bar with not a little interest, but it is Abigail that gets her attention, "Yeah. Umm.. Irish Coffee then. That sounds good. Nice and warm. It's fucking cold outside!" Then she laughs at herself as she stuffs away her gloves, "News flash huh?" Looking in Huruma's direction she nods, eyes going wide, "Wow! I bet she's good at her job."
Talking like she can't hear it- good strategy as any. Huruma sidles out of the way of the door, eyes skimming over the bar, pausing on Noriko before moving on again. She passes behind Abby on her way around the end of the bartop, hand lingering close and long enough to either hover just over Abby's shoulder, or happen to stroke it in passing. "Me? Staying. F'now." She does not specify, but Abby knows the right details; then she is moving around the bar to take up her usual place along the front of it, customer-side. She draws just close enough to Donna to be able to offer a low-volume response as she leans her hip to the bar, eyes glancing past to Abby. "Yes. I am."
"Behave and there won't be any shot glasses to forehead" Abigail offers up a smile to both Donna and Huruma, not shying away from the black woman when the affection or comfort - whichever it may have ended up being. Coffee percolating in the rear is fetched so that she can start to doctor up Donna's drink for her. "Don't know what I'd do without her. Guess we'd hobble along. I'm Abigail, you're?"
Brenda meanwhile is popping a bubble of bubblegum in her mouth when Noriko's making her pass. "Sorry honey, much as you're cushy in all the right places like a king sized bed, I don't bat for the muff munchers. But I'm sure Tanya'd be happy to get an eyeful of ya and give you a run. She's part of your volleyball team if you get my drift" Vodka and orange juice is slid across for Noriko and the cost fired off verbally.
Noriko smiles at Brenda as she digs out the money from her pocket and passes it along. "I wouldn't say that I play for any particularly volleyball team. I'm more of a free agent on some days, though, that volleyball team is by far my favourite," the Asian responds before taking a sip of her glass, looking over to Huruma, not recognizing the tall woman.
Donna offers Abby a big lopsided smile and replies, "Donna!" With Huruma on her side of the bar she moves on her stool to sit more erect, not used to women taller than her, especially so very much taller than her! She looks up at the dark skinned woman and says, "I bet. Seriously. I bet you scare the piss out of even the guys." Contemplating what she just said she laughs, "Good thing I haven't had my coffee already." Then she turns back to Abby and says, "Did I mention it was cold? Warm in here though!" She leans on the bar and looks down at Brenda and Noriko flirting, "Singles night!"
Huruma tilts her head away, the gesture perhaps understanding, though perhaps she is just giving the equivalent of a shrug. "It is January." January is inherently cold in New York. Huruma folds her hands onto the bar as she settles against the stool beside her, sighing lightly and peering over at Noriko before the rest of the facility. Nori may not remember her, but Huruma is one of the few from it that came back with full memory; she isn't surprised that there seems to be no light on the Japanese girl, as per recognizing her again.
Greenwich Village is not the neighborhood it used to be — it isn't uncommon to hear what sound like gunshots after dark, and although these noises are firecrackers more often than not, the disjointed pop-pop that cuts through Old Lucy's buzzing ambiance is distinctly unlike any bottle rocket its patrons have heard before. It's immediately followed by a cacophonous crash, shattering glass and the bang of aluminum against pavement as a trashcan in the alley behind the bar overturns.
The music does not stop. Neither do most of the men and women seated at the tables scattered throughout the establishment's dimly lit interior. There's a momentary pause in conversation that can be measured in fractions of a breath, but when no one outside starts screaming, most of the patrons go back to what they were doing, whether it's nursing their beers, smoking a cigarette or struggling to be heard over the din created by bar's upbeat atmosphere.
That isn't to say no one knows better.
"I just got back from Mexico. It's very cold here" Abigail shakes her head before she turns to put money away in the till, make change. Brenda does the same with a shake of her head for Noriko. "I guess beggars can't be choosers huh? Equal opportunity dating, I hear ya" Huruma gets a wink from Brenda even as the sounds in the alley way filter in to the bar. That alley has seen quite a bit of action, more so than many know. "Hey, boss lady, want me to check the cameras?" This offered by the red head when the sounds draw the owners head towards the side door with a frown.
"Yeah, go look, you see anything, call the cops and tell them to come down. Huruma? Anything?" Which translates to a question of whether the woman is getting anything from the alley as Abby wipes her hands on a rag and grabbing the shotgun under the bar, starts to head for the side door to the alley.
You paged Huruma with 'Huruma will get one individual left in the alley by the time Abby asks, very frightened and in a lot of physical pain.'
Thanks to Sarisa's way of explaining her missing years, Noriko has that little voice in her head that says she volunteered for Antartica, and she's a hero. So, after hearing the sounds, and seeing people gearing up to walk outside, Noriko does the same thing. Looking over at Brenda for a moment, seeming to ponder something, before she just shakes her head and follows, bundling her jacket a little tighter around herself.
"Fuck!" Donna turns to look in the direction of all the noise, "What the hell was that?" She looks around for her drink and swipes it from the bar before stuffing some bills into the tip jar. She swings around on her seat with her drink in hand, ready to slide off and follow on the adventure to see what made the noise. She definitely /isn't/ interested in leading the way though, and that is evident on her face and in the way she waits for the amazonian form of Huruma to part the red seas and lead the way towards the mystery. Damn that Nancy Drew for encouraging her curiousity!
Keeping tabs on the bar is one thing- when incidents happen outside, Huruma waits for a gesture from Abby before moving on any of them. She used to simply run out and cause a ruckus, but over time there got to be a code for things. Protocol.
Huruma cranes her neck back when they first begin, eyes shading themselves as she quietly searches for something. Ah. Yes. The tall woman follows after Abby first, hand trailing along the wall. "Just one, Abigail. He does not seem a threat, but- prey can still fight back." And as she gauges the frightened and pained mind outside, that is what she gets in return.
Abigail will find the side door left partly open when she arrives at it, a sliver of lamplight seeping in through the gap. Anyone else who might have considered going outside to investigate remains seated — with Huruma, Noriko and Donna already up and moving, a diffusion of responsibility has begun to occur. No cell phones find their way into the seats of their owners' palms. If anyone is going to call the police, then surely one of the bartenders will handle it. What reason do they have to believe otherwise?
Outside, her blonde hair creating a halo around her pale head, a young woman lies sprawled out on the pavement, her body covered in a mixture of blood and garbage spilling out from the fallen trashcan. Abigail will recognize her immediately as Tanya, one of the new hires who asked if she could take a smoke break less than fifteen minutes ago. Her cigarette, still lit, burns on the floor of the alley several feet away from her body and illuminates one side of her face, eye wide and wild.
"Shit. Someone call 911. Uhh, Donna, Here, take this" The shotgun is thrust into the customers hand with very little regard for whether she knows how to use it or not. "Uhh, huruma, Yell to Brenda, my bag is in the back room. Grab it quick. Tanya's been shot. Keep the customers inside, it might not be safe. Free round, tell Patricia to see to it"
Abigail's rushing out to sink down beside Tanya, try to bring up all her teaching so far in school as she's whipping off her cardigan so she can use it to put pressure on and cover the holes in the bartenders chest. God, the blood. "Tanya, stay with us. Help is on the way. Okay?"
Noriko is just standing there, eyes staring at Tanya. A couple weeks ago, she probably would have just turned around and walked back into the bar. Today, however, the sight of blood is just as horrifying as it should be. Her hands clenching a little while she stands there, before she looks around the alleyway, trying to see if the person responsible is still around.
Suddenly Donna has a shotgun in her hand and when she manages to see what has Abigail rushing like that she turns even paler than normal. "Fuck fuck fuck!" She drops her coffee onto a nearby flatspot and uses that hand to dig out her iPhone which is already ringing, 9-1-1 clearly showing on the screen. She rushes outside, phone in one hand and the shotgun held like a stick in her right. She's totally not carrying it like a gun, she's just 'holding it', hand somewhere in the middle. "Is she breathing? We need to start CPR!"
Brenda will see this, plain as day- and no doubt call it in to emergency services. How long Tanya has is up in the air once they breach the back door. Huruma stands there in the frame again like peering out of a lair, the light off of the streetlamp on the side of the building casting a yellow sliver along part of her. A second look is given to Tanya as Abby moves to help her, pupils darting back inside as she turns to move back to the bar.
When she does get back, a whisper for Patricia is made in passing before she makes her way into the back to fetch Abby's bag. "Brenda, call th'ambulance." Is all that the woman says as she sticks her face in the door of the office where the cameras are kept; just as soon she is vanishing and moving back to the alleyway.
A glance at the mouth of the alley yields nothing for Noriko — only bent shadows, distorted by Greenwich Village's unique architecture and the ivy attached to its brick siding. This time of year, it's dried up and limned with silver frost that glitters like strings of tiny diamonds when the light hits it just right. If the gunman is still in the area, she can't see him.
On the floor of the alley, Tanya's chest is heaving between shuddering motions that consume her entire body as her mouth opens and closes, lips moving around a wet oval like a fish out of water. She's trying to breathe, but her actions produce no sound — not even a thin rasp.
"Nine-one-one," says a male voice on the other end of Donna's iPhone. "Please state your emergency."
Dear God don't let her die, not here. Not like this. No one deserves this. "Calm down Tanya" //No one deserves this. Fuck, i came back from Mexico to this. This Alleyway is cursed. "Huruma! How we doing with that bag!" Abigail's about two seconds away from taking off her tank top if it'll help to keep the other woman alive. Why did stuff always happen in the alley.
When the black empath re-appears with her bag there's a rapid-fire listing off of what she needs from it, stocked for her classes and for Ferryman emergencies. "Calm her Huruma" Not a whit of care that it might out the woman as an empath. "IF Tanya's gonna die here Huruma, I won't have her dying afraid. Calm her please" Brown eyes matching up with the other womans. "How's it going on the ambulance there Donna? Tell them to hurry, she doesn't have long. I don't have everything I need" CPR will do shit right now. Bags of saline will, refill blood volume. Abigail shifts Tanya quickly, lift her up a fraction to see if the bullets went through or whether they're still in the blonde bartender.
"Hi. My name is Donna Dumas. I am calling from Old Lucy's in Greenwich. The address is <insert address from gps function that flashes onto the screen when Donna looks down at it>. There has been a shooting. A girl's been shot! Twice in the chest and she's having trouble breathing! Send an ambulance!" She tries to remain calm on the phone as she steps out into the alley, but by the time she mentions the ambulance her voice is climbing in pitch. "We've got to help her breath! She's not getting any air!"
Noriko is at a lose as to what to do for the young woman, her mind scanning through various things to do. She finally settles on moving forward to kneel by the girl, and attempts to put pressure on the wounds to slow the bleeding. The asian is almost stunned by the amount of blood that is coming out of the poor blonde's frame, but she keeps her hands there.
"Just hold on," Noriko whispers.
If she must, Huruma is fully capable of ignoring the surrounding temperature. She would rather not, but there is little to do besides as instructed when she makes it out and Abby begins ticking things off. The tall woman crouches with the bag, on Tanya's other side, passing what she can over before rooting the bag nearby, where it sits as open-mouthed as the girl.
Huruma observes for a moment, eyes catching Abby's look just long enough.
"Lungs, Abigail." One long dark hand moves out to place itself down along the front of Tanya's hair, the owner looming partially silhouetted overhead. The other girls do not largely get touched by her- and never in such a gentle manner, even if they did. Despite the cold, her palm is warm, and soon, so will that panic and fright that is pumping out blood faster than Abby can manage to stem it properly. Outing Huruma now, is not as big a deal as is offering Tanya a wash of calm, though not enough as to send her into complete pause.
Donna will barely be able to detect the sound of fingers clicking across a keyboard on the other end of the line as the dispatcher enters the address into his computer. "They're on their way," he says, voice tinny but calm, almost frustratingly so, "but I need you to give me some more information— Miss Dumas? Is the shooter still in the area? Are you in a safe place?"
Blood pours out from between Noriko's fingers in thick, sticky rivulets that appear black instead of red in the dark. The air outside is so frigid it causes the heat leaving Tanya's body to form a mist like the tendrils that are leaving the noses and mouths of the other women. She makes a small sound in the back of her throat, more a moan than a gasp, and as her eyes roll back into her head the last thing she sees is Huruma standing over her while the others crowd in around the corners of her vision as vague shapes that entirely lack distinguishing features or even the slightest definition.
Abigail won't feel any exit wounds when he fingers rove across her employee's back beneath her shirt. The bullets are still inside her body — Huruma has a good idea where.
"I know what I'm doing! Trust me!" Abigail snaps - not meaning to - towards Donna, Noriko's hands adding to the mix now. Huruma's right though. Lungs. She can't breath because air is escaping out the holes in her chest as opposed to through ones wind pipes and with no exit wound it makes it easier to try and stem, take care of. Gloves are grabbed, nitrile construction and scissors. They're cut between fingers and palms, then down one wrist of the glove, then down the other. Race against time really but hopefully with Huruma calming Tanya, that means the woman's heart will stop beating so fast and thereby pumping less precious liquid.
Again grabs one of Noriko's hands up then slaps down the one piece of glove. Noriko's palm down on that immediately after. 'Hold that there, don't let go till the paramedics tell you to. Make sure that you don't press down on all sides, air has to have a way to come out" The other piece is slapped down on the other hole, sealing it off too with pressure of Noriko's other hand thereby hopefully, helping Tanya to breath. Abigail swallows hard, wiping at her forehead with her gloved hand before she's digging for the ambu-bag she has somewhere, help force air into Tanya's lungs. "Tell them to hurry!"
Donna looks around and shakes her head, "No. I mean, I don't see anyone with a gun around. Just the girl and she's covered with blood! We are trying to help her." She moves away from Abigail and the poor girl on the ground, turning in a slow circle to look for a possible shooter. That's when she realizes it might be better to hold the weapon like it was one. So she stuffs the phone in her pocket, holding the shotgun with both hands, though once she's got her hands positioned right she drags the phone out again, holding it along with the gun barrel. Lucky for her she's got long fingers. "Hurry!"
Noriko keeps the pressure as she nods her head to what Abby is telling her, her eyes on the woman while she kneels there next to her, hands getting sticky and red with blood. Her eyes panicky and she looks more than a little shaken while she kneels there, hands pressing as hard as she thinks she should, which is hopefully not terribly hard.
Huruma is there to keep her hand to Tanya's head, and little more, as Abby has enlisted Noriko's help. She peers up along the length of the alleyway, stretching her senses quite far to skim the road for others. Though they were probably caught right on camera, it will help if they are still skulking around waiting to see what happens. Sometimes it happens. She knows that she does it. Sometimes.
Abby can't see it — she's too busy fishing through the bag with her gloved hands — but Donna, Noriko and Huruma can. The blood that had previously been flowing from the holes in Tanya's chest has begun to gather in the cavities of her nostrils and in her mouth. No longer does she strain against Noriko's fingers, struggling for breath.
It isn't because she's unconscious.
The cigarette that had been burning a few feet away expels a stream of white smoke which dissipates into the air, diluted, insubstantial. Its embers fade from orange to gray. In Donna's ear, the dispatcher bumps against his headset, creating a squeal of electronic feedback that only she can hear. Then; "They'll be there in about two minutes, ma'am."
Success, there's the blue bag, there's the mouth piece, Abigail's screwing them together and turning back to Tanya as quickly as her movements let her. Only Tanya's not breathing and two fingers to the side of the woman's neck brings about a religious curse from Abigail. "No" She thrusts the bag at Huruma, instructions on how to use it as she's maneuvering to put her hands between Noriko's, one on top of the other and thrusts down to start performing CPR. "Keep holding" She orders Noriko, expecting Huruma to follow through with what she was told. Panic washes through Abigail followed by a smothering wave of self calm and mental order to keep her head about her. "I won't let another god damned person die in my alley!"
Donna keeps holding, even though she's not the person that Abby is giving instructions to. She watches the struggle to save Tanya's life from a few feet away, not having seen anyone when she looked about the alley for a shooter. "Ten minutes? She's stopped breathing! They got some kind of…oh! It's a bag to help her breath! They are doing CPR now! Please. Hurry!"
Noriko looks over at Abby for a couple of moments, the Asian still keeping the pressure as she stares at the woman that is rapidly fading for them, and she frowns. Mentally wishing that she had a power that could save people, instead of being used for her own purposes. Its a brief wish, but it is there as she realizes that the woman's blood is starting to feel really cold in the even colder air.
While Huruma takes the bag from Abigail, the hand on Tanya's head draws down over her face to find one of the two that Abby still has trying to work on her chest. It is a simple motion, with Huruma's eyes finding her face- but enough to make the medic in-training realize that she should not be wasting her energy on a lost cause.
One could say that Abigail's spent the last three weeks in Mexico doing just that. "NO" She barks at Huruma, batting away hands as she leans over, fingers pinching nose and pressing her lips to the blonde bartenders lips heedless of the copper taste that comes from doing mouth to mouth on the other woman. She'll stop when the real paramedics get here, not about to give up.
Noriko shudders a little while shes kneels there, but she doesn't stop offering pressure on the blonde's chest. Her eyes all teary with the emotion of seeing someone die who really shouldn't be dieing. Given her nature in Madagascar, Huruma might find that situation a little odd, especially if she hadn't been told about Noriko's memory-loss. Her hands are covered up to the wrist in the blonde's blood, while she too waits for the paramedics.
It's an awful thing, to be gone for so long and come home to something that is just as deadly. Abby bats the touch away, but the result is not Huruma laying off- that hand wraps around one of Abby's wrists. The woman bristles momentarily out of being struck at, but that is the extent of irritation given. Huruma has been around the block long enough to know death when she sees it, no doubt about that. No doubts left at all, once she says it out loud.
"She is dead. There is nothing tha'you can do."