Participants:
| Scene Title | Rumble on the Bridge |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Deckard, Roselyn and Nicolas all seem to stumble upon Minea and her photography. |
| Date | January 17, 2009 |
It's eleven o'clock, and all is well. The Verrazano-Narrows Bridge is quiet, save for the occasional rumble of a truck along the the lower deck. Traffic from anywhere to Staten tends to be thin anyway, but at this hour and this cold, sane people are even more inclined to stay away than usual. Make that sane, or sober.
Deckard might qualify as sane under flexible circumstances, but there's no passing for sober right now. Only having made it some fifty or sixty feet from the Staten side of things, his is the unsteady progress of the more-than-mildly inebriated. He walks alone, overcoat whipped harsh about the backs of his knees by the wind, with his collar flipped high and his view of the asphalt ahead apparently screened out by a pair of sunglasses. He may or may not be talking to himself.
Nicolas moves along the bridge, walking with Roselyn, offering her casual conversation as they walk. He has his hands stuffed into his coat pockets, the winter coat buttoned and zipped up, protecting his ass against the cold. He laughs softly at something Roselyn says before he looks back at her. "I still think that you were holding back during that bowling game today."
Roselyn giggles, "I wasn't, but if you don't believe me we can go again sometime and I'll try my hardest and then we can see who the winner of that one is as well." she says with a smile. "I swear it's only getting colder." she says to Nicolas as she walks closely beside him trying to keep warm. "So I think I know where I'm going to buy you dinner at." she says looking at Nicolas.
Minea is just coincidence. Really she is. A tripod is set up, a camera bag along the bridge, a very expensive looking camera perched securly on said tripod. She's taking pictures, of the shoreline, the moon, Some of it for personal use, the rest, she's looking for odd looking things. Survielance of a different kind for the two other agents that Deckard knows. Her placement somewhat obscures the pathway for both parties as she bends over, focusing through the lens, manually adjusting it, instead of letting the camera automatically do it itself.
Skeletons, skeletons, skeletons. They're white against the fade of grey and black space around them, occasionally intersecting with the slash of a slash of cable or girder depending upon angle and focus. One male, two female. One camera, sex undetermined, because it is…a camera.
"And the papers want to know whose shirts you daaare…dare…wear. WEEEAAAAAR." Ok, so, not talking to himself, just singing. Trying to remember the lyrics under current conditions is kind of problematic, but with the wind whipping his voice away from him the way it is, it's hard for Deckard to hear himself anyway. The camera is getting closer, meanwhile, and so is Minea, because he's walking towards them, and Nicolas and Rose beyond her.
Nicolas continues to head towards the camera and it's operator with Deckard beyond it. He glances towards the woman and her camera, his head tilting slightly as he looks in the direction that the camera is pointed as he talks with Roselyn. "Well, We'll have to play another game sometime. I just don't think that you were just rusty. You have to have been going easy on me."
Roselyn shakes her head, "Okay, but I wasn't going easy on you really." she says with a grin, "So do you want to know where I am going to take you?" she says with a smile turning her head so she can look up at Nicolas continuing to smile at him. But when she does turn her head she notices the camera and the other two people on the bridge, she looks at them curiously for a quick second, "What do you think that's all about?" she asks Nicolas confused.
There's one thing worse than bad singing. It's drunken singing. But that voice makes Minea's right eyelid twitches as she sets the camera to take a handul of pictures all at once, the shutter clicking rapidly. For now though, the leather jacket, pashmina scarfed brunette doesn't pay heed to Decakrd, nor to the two lovebirds walking towards her.
"HEY. Hey. …Take a picture of me." Deckard is near enough now to be an obstruction, one black shoulder fuzzily out of focus in the way of whatever she's shooting. He stumbles a bit in the process of trying to tilt his scruffy head into frame, the long angles of his face briefly distracted by the focus it takes to stay upright. "Better yet, take a picture of those two. They're…smiling. Very suspicious."
Nicolas pauses in his step as he looks at the man that shouts out, looking to the man then the woman with the camera. He raises an eyebrow slightly, the smile fading away from his lips only to be replaced with a sly smirk. "Only if you get my good side."
Roselyn stops walking when Nicolas pauses, "I don't like pictures taken of me by people I don't know." she says as she tries to hide her face partially behind Nicolas' arm and covering the other half with her hand. She looks up to Nicolas, "I think that guy is drunk." she says to him low enough so that only he can hear her.
"Sir, your ruining the shot" Shit, it's the smart mouth from the meeting, and he's getting into her view. Miena's lips are pressed into a grim line, and with her back to the other two, her voice low, her words are for deckard only. "Get your fucking ass froum in front of the camera, i'm working. You have five seconds" It's followed, quite summarily, by minea counting said numbers.
"Only if you get his good side." Deckard makes that amendment to his original instructions in light of Nicolas's request, shoulders back and eyes squinted against the alcohol dragging like cobwebs around the hard edges of his perception when he checks out Roselyn. Even with the sunglasses and everything, there's little doubt that's exactly what he's doing. He's slow to turn his head back to Minea accordingly. "Six, seven…"
Nicolas glances down to Roselyn as she hides her face before he looks back up to the woman and the man. "I think we'll just go around. I'm not sure I want to get in the way of the shot." He says as he starts to move towards the two again.
Roselyn nods at his words and continues to walk by his side, "I don't like having pics takin of me really, unless I trust the person that is." she tells Nicolas, "Never know what they would do with them." she says to him with a smile. "I hope that, that guy doesn't try anything stupid." she says with a grin.
It's a different kind of shot that happens. Well, the camera already took it's pictures, of Deckards fuzzy form. But it's Minea's elbow that swings up and around, close to her body to aim for Deckards jaw, while a moment later, her knee comes up, to bring the force of her body to meet Deckards, right at the junction of legs and groin. "Five" Quick movements from the back, the camera jostled a bit to the view of those behind her.
"Eight." Thud. There's an elbow in Deckard's jaw. His head snaps around with the impact's momentum, blood from the still-healing slash across his cheek dabbling lightly at her sleeve before the contact is broken. Caught off-guard, he stumbles sideways, attempts to shake it off, and comes back in with a blunt bared-teeth swing at her gut that is countered by the neat application by her knee to his groin. There is no quick recovery, this time. He hunches, air pushed out of his lungs in a cloud of alchol-scented, "Hffff…"
Nicolas' eyes widen as the woman attacks the man. He looks at the camera as it becomes pointed at them. He stares at it for a moment, concentrating a bit as he tries to delete the pictures it contains before he moves towards the two scuffling. "Hey! Hey! Break it up."
Roselyn stares in astonishment, "Holy shit, did that just happen?" she says out loud not really towards anyone, but just because that astonished her. She stares at the camera once she notices, that it is pointing at her, "Fuck they've gotten pics of me, I wish they wouldn't have. Now I'm going to have to break that camera." she says to Nicolas quiet enough so only he can hear her. She looks up once he starts shouting, thinking why he just did that, but there's really nothing she could've done to stop him so she just watches him a little concerned.
Completely relaxed, that's Minea, not even fisted hands after her little foray into close comabt with the evolved man below her. Just turns from Deckard as he's going down, family jewels more than a little tender. Her camera more of a concern. "He was trying to pickpocket me" Swiftly and very easily lied, and possibly quite believably. She mostly lies for a living half the time. Little white ones here and there, and bigger ones. A softly uttered 'fuck' comes though, when she quickly looks back to see if she got the shot of the moon or not. Not. In fact, all of her pictures are gone. Her lips are pressed into a thin line again. "Don't worry. No pictures of you on here. Nothing on here now, fuck me. What the hell" Unhappy Minea now and a glower down to Deckard.
"Jjhhuh…" Deckard laments, brows pressed low and eyes squeezed shut while he staggers another half step back. "Crazy bitch." Not having fallen so much as he's adopted a shallow-breathed hunch in an effort to relief pressure in certain places where he really shouldn't have to, he reaches out to brace himself against the barrier between this side of the street and non-existent oncoming traffic. Blood has already blacked out the left side of his face. The cut's no longer deep, just. Headwounds and all.
Nicolas turns his attention from Deckard to Minea as she gives her explanation. He nods and looks back to Roselyn. "It's fine. No pictures." He says after Minea examines the camera. He smirks slightly before he looks back to the man on the ground. "I'm glad I'm not you right now."
Roselyn looks up at Nicolas, "How are there no pictures?" she asks him with curiosity. She turns to Deckard and starts laughing, "Dude you just got your ass kicked by a girl, way to be a man." she says with a smile on her face. She starts laughing at the man, she tries not to, but it isn't working that great.
"Then you'll learn to not try to steal from the crazy bitch, won't you" Minea leans over, digging into her purse and throwing a handkerchief to the arms dealer. Roselyn though gets a frown. "He's at a disadvantage. Go easy on him. He needs to go scurry back to whatever fucking hole he came from" THe camera gets another scowl. "Fuuuck, great, a whole nights worth of shots, gone" Miena shakes her head, grabbign the lens cover to snap back on the camear. 'Fabulous asshole, thank you very
"I don't know who you are, but I fucking hhh—hate you." Voice coarse and prone to skipping where he's forced to draw in a deep breath to steel himself against a second wave of hot pain, Deckard presses his free hand against the sticky grain of his stubble collection to try and stem the bloodflow there. The kerchief lands ineffectually on his head.
Nicolas looks to Minea and frowns slightly as he hears her despair about the pictures. He looks to the camera again, concentrating and seeing if the nice digital camera will give back the photos that it took away because the big bad technopath told it to.
Roselyn shakes her head, "I'm not going to take it easy on anyone, it's a free country so as long as I have my first amendment no one is going to shut me up got it?" she says to Minea. "So now that we have that settled, I'm ready to take off, how about you?" she asks Nicolas as she looks to him.
"Wouldn't be the first to say that. Are you done complaining? Because I can call the cops if you like. File a complaint and have them arrest you for what you tried to do" Roselyn's quip is summarilly brushed off thanks to the sudden reversal of fortune. Her pictures blinking back to being on the camera. That causes the tall woman to stiffen, a glance to deckard, who's occupied stemming blood, and then to the other two. Rosalyn, but her eyes settle on Nicolas.
"Fuck you," muffled wincingly into his palm, Deckard tries to push himself up straight and doesn't quite make it there. Edging a few half-hunched, hitched steps away from Minea, who he gives the dirtiest look he can manage, he juts out his lower jaw at Nicolas and sets to scuffing his way around all of them, off to wherever he was originally headed.
Nicolas glances away from the camera as Minea starts to look at the two of them and turns his attention to the man on the ground. He thinks for a bit, his head tilting slightly to the side. "He looks familiar. Just not sure where from."
Roselyn looks at Minea, "Do you want something?" she asks the woman staring her down, "Cause if not, we want to get out of here." she says to Minea. She turns to Nicolas, "You bout ready hun?" she asks him with a smile.
"No, I don't think I do" The look away from Nicolas. There. It's not Deckard, she would have been warned about him. "You both have a good evening, seems my equiptment is just on the fritz." Her gaze lingers on Nicolas, a moment longer before she starts to continue packing up stuff, putting it away, keeping an eye now on Deckard.
Deckard's not doing anything all that interesting at this point. Gimping off towards Brooklyn with an eye turned back to the trio to make sure nobody's going to run up and boot him in in ass, mostly.
Nicolas looks to Roselyn as Deckard heads off. "Yeah. I'm ready to go." He says as he looks back to Minea. "You have a good night too. Hope your camera gets fixed." He says before he looks back to Roselyn. "Let's go." He says before he starts back on his path, glancing over his shoulder to the direction that Deckard had left. "He looked so familiar."
Roselyn nods and follows along behind Nicolas, nodding to Minea before walking in the same direction as Nicolas. "Sorry, I didn't mean to go off like that, I just say what I think, I'm honest and sometimes the truth can be pretty rough." she says with a smirk. "Just don't hate me or think of me different, at least you know I don't lie, but yeah, there is something I want to tell you. I'm pretty sure I can trust you." she whispers to him in his ear so Minea can't hear her.
Minea's not visibly paying attention to either party. Just putting her stuff away. But she's nto average joe and she pays attention in other ways. Till both are far enough away and she can't hear or see anything, just the darkness of the bridge.
Nicolas continues on to his original destination with Roselyn, returning to his previous conversation with her. "So, what do you think? Another game sometime?"
Roselyn nods and smiles, "Yeah, sounds really good." she says looking up at him, "There is something I want you to know if we are going to be hanging out more."
 January 17, 2009: A Drink with a Walking Stiff |
 January 17th: Halfway |