Participants:
| Scene Title | Sight Unseen |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | A prophetic vision pays off later than expected. |
| Date | January 27, 2011 |
Another day, another sundown, or it will be within an hour or so. Daryl has already missed most of it, stuck in a classroom with a bunch of others just as bored as he is. Maybe he should have cut out early again. In any case, he's gotten through it now, and is loitering in the park, once again blowing off his dad's advice to go look for an honest job. Isn't it enough of a concession that he agred to pick up a few groceries on his way home later? You'd think the guy was practically in an old folks' home already, to hear him talk about how tough he's been having it.
It really hasn't been all that long since Koshka had left the city. But once on solid ground and given the rules for returning, she wasted no time in scampering off to see the sights. Her first stop had been a fast food joint, breakfast being the most important meal of the day, and following that she'd been up and down several streets a number of times, traipsing through the snow and generally enjoying a new-found freedom. Of course there had been various breaks throughout the day, mainly for lunch and a chance to warm up. But never for too long.
And now, she's out once again.
Aware that the day is growing shorter, Koshka is making her way through the park, inevitably to head homeward. Not in too much of a rush, however, preferring to cut through and drag as much snow from the drifts along with her. Yes, there's no hurry in getting back just yet.
The chill has been a mixed blessing in Daryl's eyes. It brings back bad memories of the previous year's blizzard, of having to watch bodies be carried off the streets here and there when it finally cleared; this year's hasn't been that bad, but it's still worse than usual. On the other hand, it gives people an extra incentive to hurry up and get where they're going, which suits him just fine; opens up opportunities to grab a little something for himself while no one's looking. Right now, though, he's content to just warm a park bench and watch the crowd go by…
…including Koshka, as her walking path happens to take her right in front of him…
…and all of a sudden, he snaps out of it, rubbing his eyes. Was that—? It had to be! No, maybe not, he tells himself even as he clambers to his feet, but what if it is? She hasn't gotten more than ten feet away before he's up to a double-time pace to catch up.
Hop-skip. The soft crunch of well-worn shoes on fresh snow is an amusing thing, and though Koshka's been in snow many times before, sometimes the simple joys are the best. But when her footfalls seem to have an extra, not quite on beat, added in, she slows to address the matter. It might surprise the girl to see someone running toward her, someone unknown, but she fixes Daryl with a small frown as she turns to face him.
It's really only a second or two that Daryl is actually running— he only has so much ground to cover, after all, and he didn't want to slip on an icy spot and really get things off to a bad start.
As soon as she turns, he drops his pace to a light job, his breath misting lightly through the air as he stops and quickly looks her over. Yes, she's definitely who he thought she was. "Hi. Look, this is gonna sound weird, but— you remember last November, right? The riots?" And all the people who saw it coming, for all the good it did when it came to trying to stop them.
The frown turns a touch wary, though Koshka tries to remain neutral of expression. "You're right," she answers with a shake of her head. "It does sound weird." Blue eyes dart past the boy, following down the sidewalk to see who else might be coming, but briefly and then flick back to Daryl.
"Yeah, I remember them," Koshka says, her shoulders lifting into a shrug. She hid through most of that day, but still, who wouldn't remember something like last November? "What about it?"
Catching himself on the verge of fidgeting with his hands, Daryl clasps them behind his back to keep them out of the way. "Well, the visions" Of course she'd remember those too. "well, I saw you. Us. Running away from a crowd. At least I'm pretty sure it was you. But it never happened, so I kind of forgot about it."
Until now, obviously.
Koshka stares up at Daryl, not entirely sure of what to make of his statement. How do you respond to something like that? She tries for a shrug, though it doesn't seem appropriate, moreso than the headshake she initially thought to do. Finally she digs her hands deeply into her coat pockets and looks to the way she'd been going. "So… I guess… what's that mean?"
He glances over in the same direction, then turns back, gesturing helplessly. This is the point where his knowledge, such as it is, runs out. "I don't know. Maybe it means we were supposed to meet last year? Or it just means we could have? My name's Daryl," he adds, deciding to start over with the basics.
With a nod of her head, Koshka tries this time for a grin. Unsure, maybe lacking in mirth, but it's a start. "Guess, maybe…" She gives a small shake of her head. "Sorry. I'm Koshka. -You live around here? Or.. near? I'm…" With a hand she points vaguely, toward Chinatown.
What is it with the Russians this week, anyway? Not that he's complaining, as long as he doesn't have to butt heads with the Bratva or anything. "Yeah, Lower East Side," replies Daryl— they're both more or less the same direction from the park. "Good to meet you, finally. I guess."
With a nod in the general direction they'll both have to travel, Koshka begins walking again. There's a glance sent to Daryl, prompting him to come with. "It's not my real name," she explains with a shrug. "Just what everyone calls me. Since I was little, something my… my dad started calling me." She glances up at Daryl and offers another grin, better this time, more natural.
Ah, now this is more like it. Knowing where he's going, liking who he's with… he was trying for something like this the other day, but he can hardly complain, all things considered. "I can see why," he offers, "it's a pretty name. So do you like your real name better, or is it something really awkward?" He doesn't ask what it actually is, she can make up her own mind whether to share.
"My mom only ever called me by my real name," Koshka explains, a frown briefly furrowing her brow. "And her boyfriend." Giving a shake of her head, she kicks through a pile of snow. Her steps go exaggerated, sending as much powder flying as possible. "…It's Bethany, but I'd rather be called Koshka. You got any nicknames?"
Daryl winces. "Bethany's pretty too, but— baggage, I get it. Koshka it is, then. And not really, just 'hey you' from my dad. Not like there's anyone else he could be talking to." Another thing they have in common, broken families, though possibly for different reasons.
"Yeah it's… not really anything." Koshka turns a grin up to Daryl, but only briefly before she's back to looking at the snow as she walks along. She's quiet for several steps, feet shuffling through the powder. "So um… you like ice cream? We could get some ice cream while we walk home-ish." Because it's a well known fact that, in the middle of winter, you need ice cream. "My treat."
It really is an odd suggestion, but at the same time, it seems to imply something. It's not really about the ice cream, is it? "Sounds good to me. I'll cover the next one, okay?" There can't not be a next one, not after all this. Looking over the sidewalk, Daryl leans over and offers a hand to Koshka's as they approach a stretch of icy sidewalk.
"If you want," Koshka answers with a shrug. To her, it's just ice cream and a chance to be social, perhaps and hopefully claim a new friend. She'd gotten better about interacting with others, not being quite the introvert, during her time away from the city. No sense in lapsing back into outright distrusting the entire world. A glance is directed at Daryl as he offers a hand, and after just the slightest hesitation, she accepts the offer by extending her own.
