Seedy Folk


carter_icon.gif felix_icon.gif minea_icon.gif zoey_icon.gif

Scene Title Seedy Folk
Synopsis The uptown girl is walking in the not so white collar world, she met a back street guy, and a hooker told her why… to get off staten island and do her research elsewhere.
Date February 21, 2009

Staten Island - Inland

It's Staten Island! And inland! Look below.

Between the more clearly defined sections of Staten Island is tattered wilderness and the decrepit remains of civilization. In houses that have seen better days, indigents and squatters huddle for warmth in winter's dying days. More rudimentary housing exists as well, in amongst the trees and brambles on the edge of the still leafless Greenbelt.

Though there is no posted sign declaring it as such, this bit of the island could very well be called a crossroads. In the distance, the daily cacophony of the Rookery and it's markets can be heard, while the quieter, grave-like remains of the crumbling suburbs whisper their own signs of life. Just as many people are trying to eek out a life here as are those who are trying to make a quick buck and keep one step ahead of the law.

Down one cracked street walks a man with a backpack slung over his shoulder. He's like so many men who find their way to the island for some reason or another - carrying what he owns on his back as he looks for a place to barricade off as his own. He's dressed in jeans, boots, and a thermal top beneath a street styled motorcycle jacket. His hands are tucked in the pockets to keep them warm, even as the sun brightens up a spot of what is otherwise a gray sky. It may be sunny out, but it's still February. A stocking cap shields his ears from a gentle but no less bitter wind that shakes the naked branches of the trees.

Felix is in drab clothes, worn enough that he doesn't immediately attract attention at first glance. But a second looks betrays that he's neither terribly unhealthy nor despairing - he's as gaunt as ever,but it's not the marks of starvation. He's walking at the hurried pace of a man fearing pursuit, but not yet daring a full-on run, away from the cacophony of the Rookery.

What's an uptown girl like Zoey doing in Staten Island? Who knows, but that's where she's at. She's got a school pack slung over her shoulder and is walking down the sidewalk, being careful to stick to the side of the walk closest to the road and away from alleyways and other places from whence she could be jumped. She seems a bit nervous as she walks, eyes darting around to look for potential assailants and the like.

'Alice Heart' Is getting ready for the the evening that is soon to come. Out of one of the nice buildings. A much nicer coat than what most see, her destination is the rookery and on the arm of someone rich who's attending the fights. She needs to eat first. Stylish heels, skirt that might be a bit too short but it none the less flattering to the legs that it wraps, hair up, she's one of the high class call girls who call staten island home. Or well, that's what she's supposed to be. Felix knows different. Much different. Coming down the steps and out into the street tucking keys away into a black clutch. Brown made up eyes take in everyone on the street, carter, Zoey, even Felix. Interesting mix of people.

Carter's steps slow when it becomes evident that he isn't as alone on the street as he might have otherwise thought. His eyes narrow, but it is not with suspicion (though it may seem that way). He tilts his head ever so slightly, his gaze on the pavement as he skims over what thoughts are floating in the air. It never hurts to get a jump-start on the job.

Fel's thoughts are cottony and dazed with approaching fever, as he glances back over his shoulder, repeatedly. Shit. I gotta get out of here - this of all places isn't somewhere to be sick. Wonder if I can bribe a boatman to get me back to the mainland. He's not quite staggering, but his pace isn't as confident or as even as it might be.

How do you find a time stopping, time traveling samurai sword wielding evolved? Alice plucks out a lipstick, using a mirror on one side of the lid to put the red drenched color on her lips, using it to see behind her as well. Hiro.. Nakamura. Nakamura. That rolls off the tongue. Minea presses her lips together to cement the color, spread it a bit on her lips. Fuck. It's Ivanov. Shit.. what trouble is he in now. Fuck… Minea's just full of swear words. "Sir?" Minea keeps her path approaching Felix. "You should get off the street. You look like prime pocket picking target" Please don't throw up on me Ivanov.

Zoey stops in her walk, looking around for a moment. Christ this place has changed.. Why did I have to decide to get some personal experience content for that essay? I'm so going to get mugged. And robbed. Or raped. Or both. She grimaces a bit and looks around again, sighing.

Carter takes a deep breath as he glances from person to person, but only three of the four stand out. Ivanov is a name he knows, but it takes him a moment to recognize the gaunt and wearied face of the man Minea addresses as the recently acclaimed hero. He keeps a careful eye on the pair of them, letting their thoughts flow as freely into his head as they do in their own, and slowly angles his steps toward Zoey.

A sharp whistle cuts the air, and he jerks his chin up in a crude sort of nod. "You lost, little girl?" he asks, his voice loud enough for the others to undoubtedly hear him as well.

Minea's a hooker now? That brings Felix up short, and he gives the other agent a somewhat cock-eyed stare. "Thanks, lady," he says, pretending not to recognize her. "I'm working on that, at the moment." Man. What is she doing here? "You look like you could use a bodyguard yourself," he adds, scratching patiently at his scalp.

Zoey comes up short as Carter approaches her. Her hand clenches a bit tighter on the strap of her backpack, "N-no. I'm fine, really." Her eyes dart towards the Manhattan skyline in the distance, then back to Carter, "Just, umm, taking a walk is all." Please don't kill me please don't kill me please don't kill me

Fuck. Pedophile. Minea's gaze cuts to Carter before it goes back to felix. Don't make me chase you off pervert. "Maybe, maybe not. You volunteering?" Love to see a man try to lay a finger on me. Fuck. I hope I bought enough roofies, gotta be punishment "You look three sheets to the wind there Mister and like the slightest breeze might pop you over"

But rather than eye Zoey like the sort of miscreant that Minea labels him to be - something that makes Cater instinctively tense up - the older man simply licks his teeth as if something were stuck in them and looks to the ground with a shrug. "Girls like you don't take walks in places like this. Central Park? Maybe. Greenwich Village, places like that, sure. Not here. You lookin' to get something you can't get back home?"

Carter lifts his eyes to Zoey then, but his expression matches his tone - he sounds more like a concerned parent, teacher, or police officer than any stereotypical mugger, rapist, or murderer.

"I feel like shit," Felix says, quietly. "Sorry. Not in the market this evening. Whatever I got, you don't wannit. You're obviously way too upscale for this," He indicates the ruined neighborhood around with a jerk of his chin. His gaze falls on Carter and Zoey, and frowns. "Looks like a lot of women for whom that's true around here," he adds.

There's two fingers dipped into the clutch, producing a card. Alice, it says, with a stylistic Heart where her last name should be and 10 little digits underneath. "A girls gotta live where a girls gotta live, and most of my clients make their evening entertainment on the island. You go where the work is" You go where the company sends you. Minea looks over her shoulder to Carter and Zoey, eying the pair of them. Aren't you an odd duck, showing concern.

Zoey chews her lip for a moment, then nods her head slightly to a digital voice recorder that she has put in the little cellphone pouch on the shoulderstrap of her backpack, "I'm.. I've got an essay for school. On the various societies in New York as determined by income level. I was.. curious what it was like out here." What if he takes the recorder? It has all my data on it, oh god maybe I can give him some cash instead.

There is a sting that comes with Minea's hidden thoughts, but it is only intensified with a more internal one. Of course they wouldn't leave this to one person. It'd be foolish to rest it all on one set of shoulders. Still, Carter is distracted for a moment, looking past Zoey to the two agents.

"I can't help but think," Carter continues, his eyes still on the agents for a few seconds more before he brings them back to the girl, "that if you go around asking those kinds of questions, you may not like some of the answers you get. So how about you let me be your shadow, just to make sure you nobody decides to give you too much of a hands-on experience."

"You got an essay?" There's rank incredulity in Felix's tone. "What you have is a death wish," he notes, fearlessly butting in on the conversation between Zoey and Carter. "What this guy is likely gonna do is get you somewhere alone and rob and murder you. At best. Bodyguard out of charitable concern, my ass. If you had any brains, you'd be on the next boat out of here." he says, even as hs pockets Minea's card. "Can't blame you," he asides to Min, over shoulder.

Yup. Pervert. Fucking kid comes waltzing into the fuckign Rookery. That's asking to be raped "He's speaking the truth. There's girls that go missing on this island, be a shame if you go too. They like the pretty ones. No ones that kind without a string attached and usually not a good one" Minea hold's carter's gaze, smiling at him in a not friendly way. too much tooth. "You want to study the society, you best skip your pretty little rear on out to the trailer park. That'll give you a better and safer idea"

Zoey audibly gulps as a lot of attention is suddenly directed upon her. She turns around a bit, looking at the three people directing their attention to her. Not good, not good, not good.. He seemed friendly.. Would he rape me? *mental whimper* "I..I think I should go back home.." She takes a few steps backwards, away from all three people.

"They're probably right," Carter admits with a shrug, but the tightness of his jaw is a clue to something else going on in his head. "Trailer park'd be safer." He steps closer to Felix, his lip curling toward a sneer, though he stays out of the other man's bubble. "But for the record, comrade," Carter half growls, his eyes narrow with indignation, "I don't touch kids." A rep like that is not the sort that Carter is looking to cultivate. No sirree.

Felix's lip curls. Now there's a subtle method of outing him. Fel recoils a little. "I'm not your comrade," he says, in his best Brooklyn accent. "And what you touch or don't ain't any of my damn concern."

'I think you do. You have enough money to get back off the island?" it's an innocent question to ask of Zoey. "if not, I'll spot you enough. But this is not the place for kids your age to be cavorting around. Really. Stick to the trailers" No one should be here. Minea's gaze shifts to the goombah, jaw tightening "and why are you here?"

Zoey shakes her head to Minea, "N-no thank you. I've got money." She looks to Felix again, a faint memory tickling the back of her mind for just a moment but unable to be pulled to the front. She continues to backpedal away from the group, not wanting to take her eyes off any of them. Carter's sudden hostility towards Felix is definitely unnerving. Is he crazy? Was he really going to take me away and rape and kill me? Her eyes get wide at that thought.

"Then don't make assumptions," Carter practically spits back at Felix before he turns his gaze to Minea, sidestepping away from the group in the general direction of the Rookery. "Why do you care? I'm not interested in catching anything, if you're tryin' to turn a trick. I don't think I'm your type anyway. But then again, why someone that classy'd be out here sort of escapes me." He tilts his head in a quizzical sort of manner even as he edges away, trying to pull a bit more of the truth from Minea's mind.

"Why not?" Just my luck. I may have found the one altruist left in New York. His mental voice is wry, and disbelieving. He gives Zoey a warning glare. "Get out of here, kid."

"My kind of trick is a bit more high class goombah. You can't afford me" I shoulda said I was a fucking drug dealer Minea's hand on her clutch is held close to her. "I had a place here before it all went to hell with the bridge and it's too much of a pain in the ass to move. You make do with what you have" Hiro Nakamura. Something to do with him. That's why she's here. "If your new, there's hovels further away, that rent rooms. Nothing open in my building" Have enough roofies to kill a horse. If they think I'm screwing anything for this cover, they're sorely mistaken.

"Lemme tell you a secret, Miss," Carter says with a snide sort of smirk, leaning in slightly even though he is a considerable distance away. "Even those high class bastards can get nasty. Watch yourself, or the big men you report to might not be too happy. Nobody likes a girl all cut up." Carter winks then and turns, ignoring Felix's comment.

A man like Carter doesn't need to defend himself against the likes of them. A man like Carter doesn't care. And men like Carter are the kind that survive in places like Staten Island.

Felix just shakes his head. And then resumes his somewhat paranoid scanning. No sign of pursuit, so he relaxes a little. No response to Carter, though the man is definitely getting a fisheyed stare.

If only you knew. Which of course, he does, unbeknownst to the Company agent. "I'll bear that in mind Mister" Minea looks to Felix, eyeing him up and down. "You should get on that boat like that girl is, and get the hell off here. I got a date to catch up with" With that, and gliding on stiletto's like she was born in them, Minea starts off towards the rookery. Any man even tries to cut me up's gonna wind up with bone coming outta his skin.

February 21st: Silver Lining

Previously in this storyline…
Whatever the Case May Be

Next in this storyline…
On the One Hand

February 21st: You Don't Stop Time
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