Participants:
| Scene Title | Snowballing |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Luke meets a lady in the bar and chats her up, only for the conversation to spiral wildly out of control, and not in the way he intended. |
| Date | October 12, 2010 |
A comfortable place, located in the basement of 14 East 4th Street. The red brick walls are covered with memorabilia from various icons of rock and places in rock history, creating a feel similar to that of a Hard Rock Cafe.
The left wall has two bars separated by swinging doors which lead to and from the kitchen. Directly across from the entrance is a two foot high stage with all the equipment needed for acts to perform there. The right wall has three doors marked as restrooms: two for use by women and one by men.
Thirty square feet of open space for dancing and standing room is kept between the stage and the comfortable seating placed around tables which fill the remainder of the Cellar.
The lighting here is often kept dim for purposes of ambience, and when performers are onstage the place is loud enough to make conversation difficult. Just inside the door is a podium where location staff check IDs and stamp the hands of those under twenty-one with a substance visible under UV lights at the two bars and by devices the servers carry. On the podium's front is a sign with big black letters that just about explain it all: If You Don't Like Rock 'N' Roll, You're Too Late Now!
This sort of place heralds the idea of a pina colada in a pint glass, although this is more of a rock and roll type of joint. Elvis, Beach Boys, maybe some Beatles all croon from teh speakers, and people seem to wander around, mostly keeping to themselves. On a weekend evening, it'll get busier. But it's just a little too early for that, and it's the old people, the busy people and the lonely people who are here now, who can't stand to be by themselves amongst a large crowd.
Marjorie fits in perfectly. If this were 50 years ago, she'd still blend in perfectly, in her black-and-cherry dress with a black sweater over it. She's sitting at the bar, enjoying her Midori sour and a little tipsy over it too!
Her hair is clean, so is her face, but her eyes are green and deep and staring off in the distance at nothing. This is clearly a woman lost in herself, sitting along at the bar. So many like that in New York.
Luke totally isn't old, busy, or lonely, he's just bored. Yeah right, Luke. Of course, right now he's annoyed to add to the mix, since he had to get his hand stamped like he was some bratty kid. Scowling at the unalcoholic drink in front of him, he snatches it up and goes off to bother someone. That someone happens to be Marjorie, so he sits down next to her. He glances to see if she's looking at anything specific, then snorts softly when he realizes she's just staring at an uninteresting poster slapped up on the wall.
That snort is enough to shake her from her daydream, her eyes matching her drink as she looks around, confused for a moment before she finds Luke. She reaches up, touching a scratch on her face that she got while diving to the ground in defense of her child only a few hours before. "I'm sorry, did you say something?" She asks, the genufelction at the end of her sentance just oozing with polite-ness. Her fingers curl around the highball glass in front of her, but it looks like she's barely taken a sip. Don't you hate that, people who can drink but seem to take it for granted?
Her eyes have, in fact, fallen on Luke, the only person nearby. He's so cute! She's sure that's just what Owain will look like when he grows up…
If Luke could read minds, he'd be a lot more annoyed to being compared to a child. Fortunately for all involved, he can't so he just shrugs. "Nothing." there's a slight pause, and he eyes her. "Here alone, or waiting for someone?"
"No, just here alone," Marjorie says with that same dimpled smile. She curls a single finger in her hair - a nervous reaction? Maybe she's not so used to chatting up strangers at bars. Even male strangers, young though they may be. "Just needed a drink, had a rather hectic day. I don't know if it's hit the news yet, but I'm sure it will. I was walking with my son in Central Park when…." She looks down at her drink, shaking her head.
Almost immediately, her hands begin to glow a pale yellow gold. But it fades momentarily. "I don't really know what happened. An earthquake, perhaps? Enough for a girl to want a drink or two before bed."
"Oh, that." Luke rolls his eyes. "Some idiot can't control himself, making a ruckus throughout the entire city. Dumbass." pot, kettle, black. "I wasn't nearby so it didn't bother me that much." the glowy hands are noticed, and he frowns hard at her.
She notices his frown, and she frowns as well. "Sorry," But she seems rather un-sorry. Rather unashamed, come to think of it. Yes, her hands glow, so what? "It won't hurt you. But when I was thinking back to it, it just happened. You didn't even notice, so I suppose it's okay." She finally reaches for her drink. It's still cool, and deliciously sweet and refreshing. She sips. "One thing I did notice is that registration didn't help a thing that happened this afternoon. Not a thing."
At the mention of registration, Luke's hand tightens on his drink, and it starts bubbling. He not only notices it, he watches it for a minute or two before he stops. "Fucking government. No one should have to register whether or not they can do something no talentless hack on the street can."
"You're right, they shouldn't." She glances over and watches his drink bubble. But instead of being afraid, she smiles. She's amused by it. "Now whose hands need watching?" She teases, bringing her own drink to her lips again and setting it down. Taht sip manages to help that smile fade. "But you're right. It's insanity to think that registering helps anyone. It makes it easier for people to be found if the Government or if other people want to find them and hurt them. They were doing that years before registration, but now registration just made it legal to do that.
Marjorie shakes her head. "If I weren't concerned about making my son an outlaw, I'd have never registered, myself."
.
"I didn't have a choice with registering. The government kidnapped me and locked me away for no reason at all, just because they thought I was dangerous." just because Luke proved them right doesn't mean they were justified, naturally. "Watch out for your family. They'd sell you out in a heartbeat if they find out."
Marjorie smiles then, a soft smile. "Well, I'm already registered, and I've taken precautions in case they ever come for me. I'm terribly sorry about what they did to you, though." In a motherly way, Marjorie reaches out to touch this stranger's arm, just a little, as if to be reassuring. "My brother went through the same thing. A government holding facility, they said. He was taken and we never saw him agian." She shouldn't go around bragging that she's found her brother, in case someone still is looking for him. "I don't know what you went through, but I know what the people who are left behind go through and it's very difficult."
"Hah, probably the same place I was sent to, I heard there was only one. He's probably escaped like everyone else. Does he have a name?" Luke doesn't seem all that interested in her brother, he's just making conversation.
Marjorie has a choice here. She could lie, she could say that she can't give his name. But Griffin talks about her to everyone like it's okay, like he's proud of her. And she ought to be proud of him too, right? Maybe his way is okay. Maybe that's how to fight registration - don't be afraid of the bad things in your life.
"Griffin Mihangle. I don't know if he escaped or not." True, she has no idea how he got out. "I can't imagine you might know him though."
Luke jerks a little at the revelation, and his left hand leaves the glass to cradle his right, which is gloved, and likely bandaged. "Your brother's the bastard who broke my hand?" he asks, suddenly really pissed off, nevermind that he's usually pissed off by something. The glass he was drinking from shatters, the liquid inside boiled away to nothing. Fortunately, that's all he destroys.
"What?" That's all Marjorie has the time to do before the glass explodes. She lets out a little cry of surprise and jumps out of her seat, spinning to keep it between herself and this strange man. "Griff broke your hand? No, I'm sure he'd never do anything like that. Not intentionally, of course!" She says, although she looks more worried now than anything else. The bartender looks up and starts to wander over. Ut oh.
Luke stands up at that, backing away from the bar. "He had these weird ghostly-looking arms, and he grabbed my hand and broke it with one of them. I thought I recognized him from Moab!" that being the Evolved concentration camp, of course.
Luke backing away from the bar means that Marjorie has her back to the bar. She's pressed back there, even as the tender comes up. "No, that's not Griffin at all, I'm sure of it!" The bartender has made it to the pair now, and he glares at Luke. It's usually the men's fault anyway. "Lady, is this guy giving you a hard time. Hey, settle down buddy. Don't make me throw you out!"
Luke turns to glare back at the bartender. "I'm not doing anything to her, it's her brother I want to punch in the face." oh wait, he did that once already. Twice already. Ok, he got in a fight with him once, but whatever.
Marjorie continues to cling her back to the bar. "I'm sure you're mistaken." Marjorie says, with a bit more force. "My brother is a very kind and gentle soul…" Who carries guns and assasinates people and is a terrorist, and who killed his wife… "…and either way, why are you getting so upset for? He's not here!"
"Upset? I'm not… upset!" ok, so Luke just has anger management problems. "You're just lying through your teeth, if you think I'm going to believe that about your brother."
Marjorie gasps, shaking her head. She reaches for her purse and starts to move toward the door, lifting her shoulder toward Luke in case he tries to get in her way, she won't run boob-first into him. "Get out of my way please," she urges, trying very hard just to hurry out of there and get home. This is what she gets for going out. Really!
Luke remains standing where he is. If she wants to leave, she'll just have to go around him. He's stubborn like that. "Your brother better watch out, no one breaks my hand and gets away with it." yay for threats!
"You stay away from my brother," Marjorie fires back, her voice a little hoarse with rage. "If you come near my family I will see to it that you end up back in a hole!" She does seem to move around him, willing to accept that. Her hand is kept up close to her chest though, almost hidden by her handbag. Ready to glow at a moment's notice.
Luke snorts in contempt. "I doubt someone like you could do anything even with that light show you put on earlier." of course, he doesn't exactly know what it is she does, but it can't be anything bad or she would've been the one in Moab.
"Stay away from my family," She warns again. She's finally past him and moving for the door, keeping an eye on him as long as she can. Apparenlty she's even okay with walking backwards toward the door. "There's a lot of nasty things that have to be done in this world. A lot of nasty things that happen to people in order to make this world what it is, or make it better or worse. But the ones off-limits are my family."
Luke watches her leave with contempt, then leaves himself once she's gone. He's out the door before the bartender could get on his case about paying for the broken glass, but to judge by the way people are looking at him, maybe he doesn't want to chase him down for it.