Some People Don't Tuck Like A Turtle

Participants:

abby_icon.gif cardinal_icon.gif griffin_icon.gif harmony_icon.gif

Scene Title Some People Don't Tuck Like A Turtle
Synopsis An afternoon in the canal street market of chinatown turns a little for the worse, but three turtles do find new homes.
Date October 16, 2010

Canal Street Market


Canal Street Market. Some places in the world will never cease to be what it is, despite whatever the political and economic climate. People will still always venture down to find the exotic ingredients they need, cheap knock off purses, a cheap and good meal or just a cheap meal. From barr'd windows, jewelry winks in the sun that manages to filter between buildings and it's a cool fall day as the temperature hovers around 56 degree's.

A vendor somewhere is sitting with a hand cart, little plastic fish tanks filled not with fish, but one little turtle per box with thin layer of water and rocks, hawked for ten bucks each in front of one of the cheaper jewelry stores. The smell of something roasting over on a food cart makes mouths water if perhaps what they are cooking leaves one to try and figure out what it is. Surely that's not seahorse on a stick is it? Possibly. Or squid.

Abigail is in Chinatown because Niklaus needed a specific ingredient that she'll find down here in bulk and fresh as opposed to a grocery store. jeans, plain white top and her leather jacket, blonde hair tied back, blue re-usable shopping bags over arms with some other things for personal consumption, ipod nubs in one ear, she stops in front of one of the jewelry stores, looking at some cufflinks and other things that are on display, left foot tapping to whatever is heard in her left ear and purse kept tight to her side. It's just a saturday afternoon in New York.

That should say a lot.

Why is Richard Cardinal here in Chinatown? It's probably best not to ask, as he steps out from an alleyway that's half-hidden by a stack of cracks filled with angrily sqwalking chickens and a laundry line, dressed in a simple tan flight jacket and a pair of scuffed jeans. Both hands are tucked into the pockets of his jacket as he emerges into the open and walks out into the street.

It's at the food cart that he stops, glancing over the exotic foods on display and ordering something with a few halting, awkward words in Cantonese. He's picked up a scarce few phrases here and there, one of them apparently being 'Seahorse on a stick, please'.

It should be nice to get out for a little bit. Do something other than stay cooped up inside, watching the world from your bedroom window, wondering what might happen if you were to join it somehow. That was the thought for the day, and after biting back her bigger fears, Harmony decided to take a few steps out her front door. The curly blond girl got the weather, and pulled out a suitable outfit for the temp and time of year. A rather sensible and short sleeved blue blouse, which would be perfect for a summer day, but yet she isn't going to just leave it at that, there is the loose fitting jean jacket overtop of it to accommodate for the crisp fall air. Top that off with a tight pair of jeans and some white kicks, and you have her casual wear for the day.

On her way to Chinatown, she stopped by to pick up a cup of Kona coffee, her favorite and one of the more expensive beans. The taste was worth the cost. On the way, she ran into the neighbor boy across the hall. She believed he had a crush on her, and talked about all kinds of things when they encountered one another. Harmony was elusive, and she managed to get away from him this time by putting a bug in his ear. 'Underused word of the day: bunt.' Which got him to thinking so she made her escape.

By the time she got to Chinatown, her coffee was cold, much to her dismay. The blonde girl opened the lid and took a sniff of the substance. Cold coffee.. ugh.. She could heat this up easily, though that would require her doing something she tries to avoid doing as much as she can. At least in casual situations. She'll just suffer. Placing the lid back on and taking a sip. The look that grows across her face indicates her dislike for cold coffee. Deal with it, Harm. It could be worse.

Something does catch her attention however. The turtles being sold for 10 bucks. Might be okay for a price, and a turtle is a quiet enough pet. She decides to take a look, crouching down and peering into the tanks at the sloth-like reptiles.
ORDER: It is now your pose.

Yesterday was a payday, and Griffin, having a job at long last (he's milking Rupe's generosity for all it is worth), just got paid. A decent wad of cash in his wallet, Griffin has come out here to have an enjoyable day; the wound in his left side is healing slowly but surely, and his bruises have faded, for the most part.

He doesn't seem to go anywhere without dressing up a bit, except for when Abby first met him. Today is no exception, and Griffin is decked out in a nicely fitted black suit, with a grey vest and a pale green shirt, complete with an emerald-colored tie. His cane is with him today, since he is unable to use his ability to help him walk. It clicks against the pavement as he leans on it to walk. He also wears a pair of sunglasses, dark and mirrored to obscure his eyes from view.

Just in case.

Griffin's green-eyed gaze falls upon the cart of turtles, making note to purchase one for Owain before he leaves. The boy would love a turtle, and it would be a good exercise in responsibility. Plus, it may help him to become more of a shining figure in his son's eyes. His first stop, however, is the food cart that Cardinal has come up to. He wanders up thoughtfully, not recognizing Cardinal until he hears the man's voice. Then, his brows raise slightly, the lanky man peering over the other.

Then, a soft greeting is offered. "Richard," Griffin nods toward Cardinal. "You look shorter in the light."

There's a Chinese tattooist somewhere who is likely laughing that Richard Cardinal is ordering seahorse on a stick. The vendor who is selling the turtles though, seeing the interest from Harmony and the passing interest from Griffin starts to launch into the fabulous deal that they'll get from the tiny little animals. What he forgets to tell is that not even a pet shop will sell them this small and odds are the poor creatures will die within a few days because of their young age.

But that doesn't deter them from being sold on the street to many a person. "You look at one yes? You like" Holding up a cage for Harmony to take a look into, water sloshing and the tiny turtle inside uncaring, small head bobbling slowly in it's habitat.

Abigail doesn't hear Cardinal or see Griffin for that matter, turning away from the jewelry store window and dismissing the contents as not good enough for what she was thinking about and turns instead to the turtles.

Would Robert tolerate another pet?

"Griffin." A few crumpled bills are handed over to the short young woman behind the stall before Cardinal tucks the wallet away inside his jacket, reaching out to accept the stick with the cooked seahorse upon it with gloved fingers. Then, and only then, he looks over to the telekinetic with an easy nod of his head, "Yeah, well, there's more than one've the reasons I don't come out during the day that much." He waves the stick, "You ever tried one? They're not bad…"

Wait. Was that…? A crane of his neck as he notices Abigail moving through the crowd, hesitating for a moment as he tries to identify her.

Okay, it's cute. Not like a puppy is cute or a kitten or anything, but it has an ugly cuteness to it, with it's permanent expression of disgruntled upon it's face. There were a few things Harmony had to consider when purchasing a pet. Things that make her blond brows come to wrinkle forward with a thoughtful frown. She doesn't know much about turtles to be honest, but she feels the need to ask, "Turtles aren't effected by radioactive exposure right? I mean.. they don't get cancer or anything?"

As she asks the vendor these questions, the girl flips her hands in a bit of a circle, talking with them as she goes. "Or is that cockroaches? What is that joke? Something about cockroaches and Cher or some such?" With bright blue eyes, she looks to the vendor, as if expecting an answer, "You know what? Nevermind.. I'll take one." she waggles her hand back and forth while reaching for her money. "Comes with it's own armor, not much of a metabolism apparently, doesn't make noise or a fuss.. It might survive." she pulls out two fives and hands it over.

She realizes that there are others around as she went through her whole thing and the girl gets even more self-conscious, reaching to scratch the side of her head a small bit. "Probably better actually getting a pet cockroach.." she mutters to herself.

A brow is arched toward Cardinal, the taller man pulling out a few crumpled bills of his own. "I can imagine." He chuckles softly, offering the cooked seahorse a skeptical look. Then, he promptly says a rather garbled version of Cardinal's request, pointing to the man's seahorse on a stick to emphasize. He's an open-minded fellow, and he was never one to turn down the chance to try something new.

Griff's gaze swings after Cardinal's, finding Abby in the crowd. A small smile forms on his face as he spots her, chuckling faintly. Then, he turns toward Cardinal. "I hope I enjoy it, then."

"Flour Beetle" Abigail offers to Harmony. A handful of people venture into the jewelry store behind them, others come out, the streets doing a fair business today. She's peeling out her wallet so she can get one too. "Cockroaches survive pretty well, but not as good as fruit fly's or Flour Beetles. or so they proved on mythbusters. I was really bored one night" She holds out her money for the vendor as well and with a brisk exchange of cash, both women find themselves the owners of some red eared turtles half the size of their palms. "Abigail, and this will be… I haven't decided yet. My Husband might not even like me coming home with another pet really"

"So how's life among the scarf people going?" A casual question as Cardinal takes a bite of seahorse meat with a quiet crunch as the blackened skin gives way beneath his teeth, chewing and swallowing as he tries to see if the person that he'd seen was, in fact, Abigail, "The big P still holding together? He's never been what you could exactly call stable… well. Maybe he was before the bomb."

See, now she feels stupid. It was a serious and somewhat personal inquiry for her, and one she felt crazy for even bringing it up anyhow. Mostly because it pulled a third party into the conversation, about a subject she would rather she didn't have to have. But the truth of the matter is, it's reality for her. "Ah.. flour beetles. I don't suppose they sell those anywhere. I'm just preparing for the worst possible situation. ARS is probably the most extreme thing I can think of. Anyway.." she dismisses it further with a flick of her free hand. She has a tiny turtle now. The thing doesn't look happy, but that is it's natural state. It looks pretty sleepy.

"I think I'll go with Mick.." she holds up the little tank and gives it a small shake, agitating the water inside and stirring the small animal. "I'm Harmony." she smiles, "Nice to meet you. And maybe you can just tell him about the benefits of having a turtle. Don't ask me what those are, but you could probably make something up that sounds reasonably believable. Say it was on Mythbusters or something.. wait.. Salmonella.." the girl frowns, looking at the turtle, "These don't have salmonella do they? I heard that somewhere too…"

She hears the word bomb and the girl somewhat pales. A touchy subject for Harmony. She has issues. "I'll risk it.." she decides, forcing a smile to Abigail in order to dismiss those feelings about the Bomb.

Taking his seahorse on a stick, Griffin wrinkles his nose as he peers quietly at it. Doesn't look pretty, for certain. He moves it on the stick a few times, before shrugging and taking an experimental bite. He seems to enjoy it, as his brows shoot up high on his forehead. "Hm, not too bad, really." He happily chews down the first bite, before turning to peer at Cardinal. "On both accounts. P is doing…better. I'm working on him. That boy was like a beaten puppy the first time I met him…" Griffin shakes his head slowly, taking another bite of the seahorse meat. "You know, this really isn't too horrible."

"I think you just gotta wash your hands after touching them is all, before you eat. Nice to meet you Harmony" Yes, that's Abigail, standing and talking with someone in front of a jewelry store across the way. The vendor looks to the two and since there's no complaints or sqwaking about the animals, his little cart is picked up and he starts making his way away to settle in a new place.

"Either you live in… pretty close to midtown or.. you know" You know.

Anything else the blonde was about to say is interrupted with a shattering window in the grocery store and a bullet bisecting the air between the two women and embedding itself in someone's shoulders just down from the two men. There's yelling in the store and motions hidden by the shade, sun, and the beads that hang behind the front window display. Trouble.

In Chinatown.

"Yeah, that sounds like him… he's not some issues. The only reason he was able to pull you all together is, well, you know why now. If he can't get his shit together, well…" The theorizing is left to the listener as Cardinal takes another bite of the seahorse, and then the sudden crack of the gunshot through the air occurs at the exact moment he confirms Abigail's identity.

The seahorse on a stick's dropped to clatter on the ground as he ducks down beside the food cart, one gloved hand on the edge and the other diving into his jacket to pull his own gun, "Motherfucker she's like a trouble magnet."

And there goes the vendor. Must be a shady deal if he is picking up and heading on his way away from his original selling point. Harmony watches him go out of the corner of her eye and she gets a cold feeling that rushes over her. A sort of creeping sensation that maybe, just maybe she'd been had. It starts to tickle her 'Ugh' factor. These kinds of emotions she can handle. They're stressful, but calmer. "I—"

Her words are of course halted by the sound of gunfire, which she seems to be thrown directly in the middle of. She pulls her face back quickly, a reflex at the bullet shooting between her and the other woman. Harmony's eyes go wide and she whips her head to check where this is coming from. Ohhh.. not good. Is it an ex? She's had a few crazy ones in her time. She wonders just what is going on, and quickly the girl ducks to seek cover somewhere. "Holy— What the hell is going on?!"

Griffin offers a somewhat mirthful smirk. "I'm…working on him. Kid has some skeletons in his closet." He shakes his head slowly.

All it takes is the gunshot, and the sound of the shattering glass, and Griffin's eyes flash with that bluish-white light, barely visible behind those mirrored sunglasses. The person caught by the bullet prompts all three pairs of vectors to be summoned forth. White eyes turn toward the building in question, and he reaches out with one of those intangible hands, gripping the light post and the side of the building.

It's like he's just been shot from a slingshot, then, the man suddenly flung toward the building by an unseen force. Perhaps he can fly. Either way, once he's behind safe cover against the wall, he attempts to risk a quick peek into the building, pulling back as quickly as he can once he can get a good idea of the scene within.

As he is doing this, a pair of guns float out from beneath his suit jacket, coming up to hover over his shoulders, pointed toward the shattered window.

Abigail stands stock still, in shock at what's happening before dropping down, bags of groceries thumping, a jar within breaking and the fabric of the blue bag darkens with liquid and the turtle container is down too, knocked onto it's side and the little critter tumbling forth from it's home. flatten against the ground and start to crawl away with Harmony and look to where there's a man suddenly flinging himse- Oh, is that Griffin? The heat that's building up in the woman is unmistakable though, one of the days that the blonde hasn't taken her negation pills and little droplets of sweat start on her forehead, radiate outwards.

Another two bullets ring out but there's none that exit the jewelry store. Within, griffin's quick look he can see people splitting up, smashed counters with their wares gone and stuffed somewhere. The group seems to be splitting up, one saleswoman with her short black hair and Asian features on the ground, alive, but shot. Three heading for the front door with a black backpack filled with stolen good, two more heading out the back with much the same. Splitting up betters the odds right?

Richard's fingers tighten around the grip of his pistol for a moment as he watches the situation for a few moments… and then he fades away like a shadow blasted against the side of the cart. That living shadow slithers down to the ground, weaving across the street and between the feet of the others in the market towards the group moving out the back door… aiming for a shoe or a pant-leg to crawl up.

Threat of danger, gunfire, out of her initial element.. It makes for some pretty intense and heightened emotions. Harmony doesn't just duck and cover and hide her head, she peeks about at what is happening. "I knew I should have stayed home." she comments, looking to where she was standing. Maybe Abigail got hit or something.. she half expected to see the woman downed and bleeding, as if THAT would help her situation. Instead she sees someone else bleeding. The person who was actually hit by the flying bullet. "Damnit.. damnitdamnitdamnit.." She is pretty near freaking out. Harmony isn't used to these kinds of things.. She lives in New York, so gunfire is natural, but nothing this 'in your face'. She isn't a big fighter or vigilante or anything like that, but she does have some pretty serious firepower that she is trying to cope with having.

Shaking and flipping her eyes about nervously. Much like Abigail, the girl is in a state of high irritation. By the time more bullets start flying, Harmony is glowing. She is starting to glow bright rather than hot. Her hands taking on a white beaming light, in which she looks at them with a degree of panic, "No. NonononoNO.." she starts to rub her hands together, as if she were washing them. Sometimes this helps. It is a psychological thing. However, she is only making herself more nervous now. It's like a panic attack in a crowded place. It is a wonder she hasn't become agoraphobic.

She had found a bench to hide behind. But it's kinda hard to do that at this point. She is lit up like a christmas tree. So far, it is only in her hands, but it's pretty bright. While she writhes her hands together and tries breathing exercises, she looks up to see the people escaping with their stolen merchandise. Should she do something? Would that make it worse? Better? Maybe.. she could try that thing. Yeah.. that thing she figured out how to do. But where? What?

There.. there is a trash can near them. It might work.. So she edges over towards the bench, where she can peek around the side, bringing one of her hands and flicking her fingertips together, a different charge other than brightness starts to occur, a burning scent filling the air while she prepares.

Well, that makes things difficult. After ducking against the wall away from the bullets, Griffin turns back to look through the window. He watches the shadow traveling across the floor, nodding slowly as his guns holster themselves back in his pants. Then, all three pairs of vectors reach through the window, heading toward those running toward the door. Their intent is to take hold of the ankles of all three men headed toward the door, and quite literally yank their feet out from under them.

All the while, Griffin…is quietly munching on his seahorse on a stick, looking as if he's simply a very brave bystander watching all of he insanity.

Up the pantleg of a thief he goes, Elisabeth is jealous in some part of the city. They are oblivious to the threat that lurks in their pants as they bolt into the alley and to a waiting car.

The three headed for the front door meet the invisible touch that is Griffin's ability and as if they had hit a trip wire, one, two, three up they go and follow the law of gravity as they come back down. They don't make it out enough for Harmony's own trick to work, the beam of light that is her ability at work, affecting the garbage can and soon enough…

BAM

Like sodium dropped into a garbage can of water, the thing explodes outwards imploding and creating a loud noise that if the gunshots hadn't drawn the attention of, this sure has. But the goons hadn't made it to her and it is for naught. But what has gotten to her is the heat radiating not from her but from the blonde who's stuck her head under her hands and huddling behind the bench and praying very hard. Steam rising off the woman, or quite possibly, smoke.

The little wayward turtle just keeps it's limbs and head in it's shell, safe from the world.

A wisp of shadow coils itself unfelt around the calf and thigh of one of the robbers, lingering there silent and unnoticed. If they get away, well, he'll be there right with them. To what goal, well, one'll have to wait to find out.

She did it! She did it! She did it! It worked like she wanted it to. It was small and just enough to cause a tad bit more chaos, that isn't going to stress her out further. Seize a bit of control of the situation. It is working, because the light from her hands is already beginning to die away as she asserts herself as something other than helpless in the scene. It wasn't as effective as she intended it to be, but it is the thought that counts here. Her turtle is still in it's tank, a bit distressed and hiding from all of the rough rattling and bright lights that apparently are caused by it's new owner. It's probably praying not to get eaten like that seahorse.

But what's going on? What is this heat? Harmony is used to this sort of thing.. when it's coming from her, not at her like this. She takes a look at her own hands to make sure that without a doubt, she isn't the one doing it. Safely brought to the conclusion that it isn't her, she looks up and sees smoke coming from somewhere. "Ohmygod!" she gasps, slapping her hands over her mouth. Her initial thought is that she hit someone with that blast.. somehow.. but that's gotta be impossible! She hit the trash can! She was sure of it. "Ohmygod!" It's the woman she was talking with! As she looks at her, she notices that there isn't any structural damage, but she is still smoking. What's going on.. why is she hot?

The lanky man ducks as the garbage can explodes, turning to stare at it from behind his sunglasses for a moment. Then, his attention is turned back to the matter at hand.

Griffin is expertly handling his three fellows. Once he hears the trio hit the ground, the man raises, poking his head in through the window. While each man has a nice telekinetic fist placed on the back of their heads, each exerting a good amount of pressure to keep them from rising, two vectors reach out to wrench the mens guns from their hands while they are still distracted by the invisible hands that push against them.

These will be two more guns to add to his collection. His guns now. The lanky man leans over the opening of the window, peering quietly at the three downed robbers as he finishes off the last of his seahorse on a stick. The stick is promptly thrown at the ruins of the garbage can.

She's hot because she's trying hard not to ignite. That's what they prayers are for, and so far they seems to be succeeding, no actual ignition happening, just wisps of smoke from clothing that's closest to her skin and soon, even that's stopping, heat slowly going down. "Our father who are in heaven" She starts the prayer over again, unaware that she's got Harmony staring at her.

The men that Griffin has pinned, remain so, shouts of fear and shock that they can't get up, one of the employee's that had been hiding in the back darting forward so that he can grab the bag of jewels and go over to the shot employee. The three men aren't going anywhere thanks to griffin and the two that Cardinal has taken after, are in their vehicle, just the two and taking off to destination unknown. For now.

One might think it hypocritical, but Cardinal isn't thrilled with this particular bunch of robbers; not because he has anything against robbery, himself a veteran of many years of that sort of work, but the indiscriminate weapons firing is what's offended him. It's an amateur job, and they injured - perhaps even killed - completely uninvolved people in the process.

One should take a certain professional pride in their work.

As the car drives off down the street, the shadow lurks contentedly in the vehicle out of sight, unseen, and unheard. Sooner or later, they'll take the masks off, they'll call each other by their real names, they'll maybe even add their haul to more of the same. And then he'll deal with them properly.

Of course, he'll keep their haul when he does. His work gets expensive.

It registers with Harmony that Abigail's condition isn't brought on by anything she did. Which would mean.. the girl has an ability, like her. Both Cardinal and Griffin's parts in this scene are subtle enough to go past Harmony's notice, though it does puzzle her how the situation got under control all of a sudden.

The smoking girl is her concern at the moment. "Um.." she struggles with the decision on if she wishes to say something or not. Further more, she wonders if she should cheese it or not. When her ability comes into play, things tend to get hairy for her from that point on. She'll have to change her sign at home. 0 Days without an incident.. And she was doing so well. "Are— are you okay?" she asks the girl, deciding it best to speak up. "You're not.. gonna blow up or anything are you?"

The guns float back to join the other two beneath Griffin's belt, making for four guns. He has quite the little armory working for him, it looks like. Glancing around toward the employees gathered, he offers a frown. Thank goodness for sunglasses to hide SOME of his face. Glancing toward the three downed robbers, Griffin promptly aims a hit to the back of their heads, with the intention of knocking all three unconscious.

He's certainly not going to wait around until after the cops get here. Especially not when he is a Moab escapee. Once Griff is certain that the men are properly subdued, the man promptly climbs out of the window. A ten flies out of his pocket, landing on the turtle man's stand; then, a little turtle in a plastic bowl is selected, flying to Griff.

Then, with a belly full of seahorse and a new pet for his son, Griffin promptly floats up the side of the building, disappearing over the rooftops without another word, his destination one of the many places he tends to stay.

He'll have to check up on you later, Abby.

"Not anymore" Thank you god. She might have warped the band of her GPS, but maybe not. Abigail still remains huddled, even as sirens blare in the distance and people are scattering since it seems that most of the action has died down and the owner of the jewelry store is making sure of that.

"I think I got it, I need to get out of here. I don't need to be around when cops come, oh lord where's my turtle, she unfolding some, looking to Harmony all flushed and sweaty as the heat dials back. "I gotta go, nice to meet you Harmony, I gotta go"

Great.. yes. Get. Out of there, Harmony. Sirens are never a good thing. Why did this have to happen when she decided to go out today. Well.. there is the answer. Because she decided to go out today. *sigh* "Um. Yeah.. I shouldn't stick around either." She has her turtle, but she lost her coffee in the process. In all honesty, her coffee cost more than the turtle did. But it was cold! "Um.. It's— it's right here." she says, pointing out Abby's turtle which is hiding in it's shell near her foot. She reaches to push a few blond curls from her face, trying to act like she doesn't feel the heat, as not to make it any weirder than it is. "Good luck? And everything?" she won't say see you later, because stuff might happen again. "Nice— nice meeting you." she offers before she too promptly turns to hurry off. She can catch the subway if she hurries.

She might very well catch the subway. Abby's reaching for the turtle, plucking it up and dropping it in the cracked container. Grocery bags in hand, still mentally running through her our fathers, Abigail's hightailing it too, much like many others who don't want to stick around or little stalls that are closing their wares down and trying to hightail it as well. Because you know, selling rip off of Gucci and Fendi… that's not exactly legal either.


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