Sitting on the Dock


scotch_icon.gif minea_icon.gif lola_icon.gif

Scene Title Sitting on the Dock
Synopsis Minea wants information. Scotch wants to commit a crime. Lola does commit a crime.
Date September 17, 2009

Staten Island


Its just at six or so, and already a few boats have come in. Some with late cargo from the mainland to bring in, others belonging to people on the island coming in for the evening. Its along the piers that Scotch finds himself today. And yes by the looks of the conversation, he is having with one of the 'captains' it is just the ending of a rather, long, long day.

"I am not going to fucking pay you -more- based on the fact you feel it took up space. You usually fucking fish, and I was lucky, as you reminded me, that you were able to even pick this up in the first place. Now, I have people that need clothes, and need the can food. And when I asked you to play Salvation fucking army, you said you would take the offered amount as charity work. Now? Now, you're trying to fuck me in the ass over a God damned price." The Texan's voice is loud, but that's normal, as is the bit of swearing coming free from it. "Fine. Fine. I'll pay fifty fucking more, but we're done, God damnit. And you can go Fuck yourself for all I care." A few more greenbacks are issued forth, before the cardboard boxes are moved from ship to man. And here the pastor at least helps.

Lola hears everything. Every little word. She got close, first, among the bustle of people. Listening, staying hidden, a face in the crowd. She was close to the captain at one point, peering over his shoulder. She had to duck her face ot hide her smirk from Scotch, listening to him go on and on and swearing like a sailor. Well, she'll remember this. Judgemental old bastard.

"Here sugar," She says, stepping toward the two men with some folds of bills between her fingers. "Extra fifty, it's on me." She gives Scotch a sparkling smile. "Anythin' ta help Staten." She drawls.

Minea in jeans, leather jacket, blending with the population of staten Island is waiting at the dock as well. She's sent her temporary daily partner back on the boat - goodbye telepath - and was turning around to walk off and have herself some chinese and perhaps a few drinks before going back to the mainland herself. Scotches tirade though, brought her eyebrows up and she doesn't try to hide that she was listening. Classic Staten island business. "They do it all the time. Best to find someone else who can give you a better deal Sir" Military bearing, she's not trying to hide it tonight..

There's a look back as the rather familiar voice creeps back in. Ahh Louisiana, how we missed thee. Or-not. A look over his shoulder as he hauls one box, up and sets it on the wooden planks, before he's really focusing in on Lola. "You got to be shitting me.." is what he is muttering, even if it just sounds like some cartooned version of snarling and cussing. Its not so much that McCoy, is in fact judgmental. And to a degree he is, like everyone else-but, he hates stealing. HATES. "You following me, or something, kid?" asked with a grunt as the second box is plucked and placed up with the other. The money transaction seems to be going along well, as more greenbacks are transferred back and the pastor gets some of his back. Not all, but some. "Fucking pirate." muttered as he moves off the boat and onto the wood.

"Thanks all the same…" Scotch says, to Lola, before he is opening the top box carefully to peer in and make sure everything is there. A look back though as another person jets in. My, he got himself an audience there. The Rev's face screws up into a neutral scowl as he nods back towards Minea "Yeah, well. I don't know a lot of people with boats. Take what you can find, right?" the bearing isn't lost on McCoy. He's ex himself.
Long distance to Minea: Lola nods

Lola rolls her eyes. "The world don' revolve around you, sugar. Ya knew I hung around Staten, maybe you are followin me," she suggests, with a waggle of her brows. "Hell it ain' like you're any more important than I am. An by the way, doncha ya'll got commandments an shit? Ya bitch at me fer stealin, but sounded an awful lot like takin' the Lord's name in vain all up in here," She flicks her cigarette into the water, smirking. "Besides, like I said, stealin' ain so bad. I just paid a man wif his own 50," Yes, she nipped the 50 from his wallet, put the wallet back, and paid him the extra 50! Fun times!

Lets hear it for talking like that in front of a homeland agent. "There's some private docks, half a mile that way" Minea gestures in the appropriate direction. "They give more reasonable rates. They're just getting the tourists here, rich kids with money that want to come play at being part of the social climate here"

Though Lola is regarded and the woman studied. "Like stealing things do you?"
Scotch is shaking his head "I only sorta know-now more than fucking ever." and he's shifting through before moving to check the other box 'And now, next time when he realizes he's been short, he'll come lookin for me with a gun." or such which means

Scotch will have to come armed. Something he's been good about NOT doing on the island, unless in the Rookery. Still he's shaking his head "Thanks all the same. man's a God damned chea-" and did she just get onto him for cursing. "I ain't never said I was perfect." Yes that would be a growl as he shuts a box. Though eyes are on the unfamiliar Minea, for a bit. Friendly advice though, never hurts. "Well, I'll see what I can do. I have limited funds, given a lot of the money has been put into fixing Saint Joes, further inland so we can get more people coming to it." As for a social scene out there. That only brings a laugh. "Seems rich kids, never know where not to walk..Sure there's some of a social climate here, but some of it…Don't think you'd want in on." And so he is offering a hand out to Minea, if she comes over any closer. "Reverand Ryan McCoy." Since she does sound all military like, no need for the nicknames.

Wait, what? Stealing? Her? "Stealing?" Blink. Deer in the headlights. Quick what do you do? "Pfft! No. Stealing's…stealing's wrong." Yeah, that's the word she was looking for. Wrong. Or something. "He cusses," she says, pointing a finger toward Scotch, just to try and throw attention off of her. "And I ain' perfect neither, but I don' go accusin' folks a bein' the worst thing that ever happened ta Staten Island, now do I?" Yes, Scotch. You just got a tongue stuck out at you.

"You paid a man with his own fifty, I know how that works" Minea fires back even as her hand is coming out to grip his and give it a few pumps. "Agent Minea Dahl. Homeland" She's not gonna make bones out here, not when she's been running around with someone and not trying to hide it. She takes her hand back, neat fingernails and palms that have seen work so that she can dig into a back pocket of her jeans and produce a picture. The image turned outwards and facing the both of them "Have either of you seen this man?" And on a second thought, out comes a picture of Emile Danko and it's held up. "Or this individual?"

Scotch smirks just once towards Minea as the words come out. "Nice to meetya Agent Dahl." and there's a look back over towards Lola "You'll have to forgive her, life's shit out here, and she's one of my reoccurring in patients. You see, I run St. Joseph's church and mission off of third, further inland? On one of th' direct ways into the Rookery..We help addicts, drugs, sex..Theft. Sometimes she just falls off the wagon..Like today.."and there's a shake of his head, before he's reaching for the picture of the First fellow, before passing it back, and a slight look to Danko "No ma'am. I haven't seen either of em before in my life."

It takes Lola a moment to catch on to what Scotch is doing. She's seen Alladdin, she can make this work. "Oh…yes…" she says, sounding a bit more spaced out, walking to stand close beside Scotch. "I'm…I'm a very bad girl. Very sick." She smiles blankly, batting her lashes. Sick and crazy, see?

As the photo is passed between the two, she catches a glimpse of the first man. Okay, not speaking up about that one. The second man, however, causes Lola to slowly start to sidestep away. "So um…I'd better…get back ot up…that…uh..Saint place and pray. Pray all my badness away…yeah…" Shuffle shuffle. She knows nothing!

Can't fool the brunette, not like that. SCotch she believes, studying his face as he in turn studies the pictures. Satisfied, she glances to Lola and frowns. Danko's face got a hit, score, something. "You've seen this man aroudn the island? He's kidnapped the first man, A federal agent. If you've seen this man" She taps Danko's picture, please, by all means, tell me where and when. THe life of the first man depends on it"

Scotch looks back towards Lola for a moment as if watching her, "Not yet, you're helping me carry boxes." said plainly before he is looking back towards the Agent. A frown for a second, but still he's not saying anything further. He'll let Lola try and talk her way out of this or not. After all he's not going to save her ass from blocking a federal investigation. Stealing like that is one thing. This is another entirely.

Lola grumbles, rolling her eyes. "Why do ya'll gotta get me on guilt trips? Just don' tell nobody I talk to cops, alright? My father'd turn over in his grave…if he were dead. I spoze fer now he's just…turnin' over." She takes Danko's picture again, looking it over. What she knows about Felix won't help anyone, so she sticks to Danko. "I recognize him, yeah. Bout a month ago, there was this big hooplah down by the water. Explodin' body parts, guns - I was just goin to the store to get some beer, mind ya. This fellah grabbed me, used me as a shield, drug me to the water's edge. S'where I saw him." She flicks the picture of Danko, handing it back. "Fightin' with some other fellah in the water. Here…" She reaches into her pocket, pulls out a napkin and a pen. "Turn," she tells Scotch, using his back as a table. In a few quick moments, she's sketched out two faces, perfectly. She's a real artist - they're absolutely flawless ink drawings: although they don't look exactly like the people they'r emeant to represent. Memories are not photographic. One is Teo, the other is an NPC run by either Douglas or Danko named Karl. "That was the fellah in the water, that was the fellah with the gun," she points to each, respectively. "But I dunno nothin' else, except this fellah," she points to Karl. "…owes me a six pack."

Scotch really doesn't have much to say as he's turned into an impromptu table. Just a look back to the woman drawing on him, but then he's not moving or complaining…Much. Instead, he's remaining still while she does her work. However when the details of the story do come out, Scotch is groaning all the same. "Day keeps getting better, and better." There's a look back towards Lola though once she is done, and he's moving to get one of the boxes, all the more to let the Agent on her way "We need to be going." muttered just so Lola, can catch it. "Wish I could have been more help to you Agent Dahl. " And yes, this is Scotch making his exit, or trying to.

Teo. Minea recognizes it when she's handed the napkin. Something went down a month ago between .. Phoenix? and Humanis. Minea calculates back and it triggers something but she keeps mum on that. "Thank you. I don't know how much good your information will be, but it'll help ms…." She's looking for a name, something. While the drawings are ebing folded, put away, her other hand is pulling out her wallet, and offering up a handufl of twenties. "For your church pastor. Might buy you a few more trips of goods over on the boat. Even at the rip off price"

Lola takes the money. Is Scotch looking? We'll see. "My pa…oh, right. The old guy. Thanks. Uh…look I ain' supposed to be talkin to you, alright? I ain'…I ain' supposed to be talkin' to nobody like you. So if you can just take those drawings an…scoot…ya know, it'd be really appreciated," she seems - not quite nervous, but a bit finnicky about this whole situation. "I promise, that's all I know." Lies! Well msotly lies, it's not like what she knows about Felix' lisence will be of any use to anyone except for screwing Lola over. And with Azrael's shooting, Adam's group and Linderman's work? Yeah. No wonder Lola's got that smile on her face.

"I'll take that." said back as it seems one hand is reaching for the money that Lola just took, hopefully before she pockets it away. A nod is given to Minea "Thank you, Ma'am." And he's looking back to Lola "Grab a box." yes he is now being bossy. And really he's not that old. He's thirty six. He passed the golden age of ministry by three years. And look he's not dead, yet. "We can use all the help, we can get these days."

No name, she can still deal with that. There's a nod from the Company agent and satisfied that Scotch has the money in hand and inwardly laughing that Lola's got manual labor it seems in her near future, the agent tips her fingers off of her forehead in a salute to the two and starts to amble towards the rookery proper for some chinese food

As soon as Minea wanders off, leaving Lola standing there, smiling her best fake smile, she looks back to Scotch. "I ain' cartin' nothin, I ain even of your…watchamacallit…God people. I'm a thief!" She makes sure there's no Minea around to hear that. "And I got you oughta spending an extra 50 on yer movin. Way I see it, I done my share."

Scotch watches as Minea trucks off, and then he's looking back towards Lola. "And I just saved your little ass, so pick up a fucking box to carry it. You can either take clothes or cans. Both will weight the same.." Which is to mean, both will be heavy. "And God people, really? I think you can do better than that, with words, or is the bayou so stuck in your mind, all you know to do is snigger in creole and ask for gumbo?" Ooh testy. "Just carry a box." he's not even touching the thief comment. "Please."

Lola raises her brows. First he's calling her the reason Staten Island is in disrepair, and now he's calling her out on being a Creole? "So let me get this straight, sugar. Girlie's gotta be white an from yer world an a 'God person' to matter? CAuse I notice you don' give a shit bout yer comandments unless I'm breakin' 'em." Oh, she'll take a box. She bends down, picking up one full of clothes. And then she heaves it into the water with a loud splash.

"I ain' got time for dirty, racist bigots. You are disgustin, it's no wonder that more people die because a the crap folks like you spew." She takes a few stpes back, to walk off, but she's not so dumb as to turn her back to him.

There's a look back towards the clothes as they sink, and a look back towards Lola. "Race has never had anything to do with it, you fucking swamp rat. Clean out your god damned ears, and listen good. You just cost three families with kids, their clothes for the fucking fall, and winter. "I told you Stealing is wrong, and you got all snooty, because someone called you on your fucking shit. And you get even more pissy when someone calls you on further stupidity." a shake of his head "I was right in what I said: That you don't know how to help others. Just yourself. Well I hope you're proud, cause I ain't mad about the money you just cost me, but I am mad for the hurting you're going to be putting on other people." a catch of his jaw "Normally, I'd say I see you again, I'd shoot you." A pause "But that's not even Christian of me. So, I am just damned disappointed in you. You wanna know why Staten Island is going to hell? Its cause people like you only think for themselves, and prey on others. And its a damn shame." Is he turning his back on her, yeah, but he's got a box full of cans to get back to the church.

Lola stops, glaring at him. "Naw, it ain' about race. But I'm Creole, my family's from the swamps, so that's why ya hate me? S'the matter? Momma was a creole? Maybe she beat ya around too much? Ya don' know the first thing about me, or what I done for other people." She's killed for other people. "Good people, people ya'd consider 'worthy'. But then, I don' help you, an I don' like you, so you think you can treat me like trash. Dirty, disgustin' bigot. I'll be sure to tell the three nice, white folks what never done a single thing wrong in the world ta line up an ask fer yer help. Cause the rest? They all 'sinned'. They're all dirty. Some a them maybe even be from the Bayou. They're all just like me. I ain' never taken a cent from a person on Staten, so hell - I'm probably a 'cleaner' person than most you'll get 'round here! Damn, now if only I wasn' from the Bayou. Wouldn' it be funny how differently ya'd talk ta me then."

Scotch stops, and sets down the box, turning back towards the woman. "Everyone in Louisiana is Creole. Hell most even speak it, dumb ass. So listen once and listen good. I don't really consider people worth a much of shit these days, and that is myself included. But, what I hate, what I fucking loathe? That would be anyone who preys on anyone else.. I don't give a shit if you have sinned, or they have sinned. But, the fact that you keep on stealing, preyin upon folks? I can't stand that, and so I cannot stand you. So I do not know where you get this damned thought that because you're from the bayou, that makes a lick of shit." And he's staring at her "Because it doesn't. The fact you just ruined other people's lives because someone said something you didn't like? That adds to the reasons of Why I don't particularly like Lola." a bite of his cheek, hard enough to draw blood. Which, he is promptly spitting out. "And if I didn't help out sinners, I would be one might fine hypocrite, and I would have picked the worst place in America to work. Get it through your brain-Its because you prey on people, that I don't like you. Nothing more."

And Lola grins. "Aw sugar, you ain' got a clue, do ya? You think I waltz around, pickin' change outta beggar's cups?" She chuckles, the whole thing is really amusing. "Sugar you got no idea what it is I do. But ya obviously think ya do, an ya obviously think yer better'n me. Best part about it is?" She leans forward, as if telling him a secret. "Nobody cares what yer prejudiced, bigoted brain thinks or likes or hates. Just shows how ignorant ya are," Chuckling, Lola turns, taking the steps to stalk off into the darkness

Scotch shakes his head "You steal.. And can't stand it when people call you on your shit." A look back as apparently he is talking to himself. That's the honest truth of it. "Don't listen for shit. I swear to God.." muttering mainly to himself as he goes. Oh this will be a fun one to explain-yeah someone threw your clothes in the water. "God give me patience.." bitten out as he skirts along back to the church "Cause I want to strangle people."

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