Southern Conflicts


abby_icon.gif adelaide_icon.gif lola_icon.gif scotch_icon.gif

Scene Title Southern Conflicts
Synopsis Funa nd conflict, conversation and Yeungling at the bar.
Date September 17th, 2009

Old Lucy's

Old Lucy's has a vibrant and lively feel to it, from the dark wooden floors to the shady crimson walls lit up by neon lights and many times, the flashing of cameras from the oft-crowded floor. The mirror behind the bar reflects prices of various drinks, bottles lined up, as well as the entire saloon as seen from the bartenders; bolted-down stools line the other side, and there are loose tables and chairs placed all around, though many times they find themselves pushed back for more space within the center of the saloon. A few speakers are placed at strategic places and around a raised stage to the far corner from the bar. Above the counter, an obviously well-used bar is hung; it is this that the girls working will use should there be dancing, which is one reason many patrons choose to come aside from the drinks. Across the bar and near the back, there is a door that leads to the owner's office and just inside a stairwell that leads a apartment on the floor above the bar.

Huuuump day. Happy hour has been going on for the last two hours and at the moments it's high noon, or at least the cusp of the hour because three of the bartenders on duty at up on the bar and doing their thing. Natalie wriggles her hips as she shimmies down, using Brenda's leg as a pole. Brenda - besides being the pole - is spraying seltzer out of a the dispenser at the crowd. Becky, the curly haired brunette is the third up on the bar and she's pouring tequila while swinging her hips side to side giving a glimpse of what's underneath in exchange for a five and there are men lined up in droves while the music blares.

For those, not about to rock with their :coughs: out, Abby's strapped on her apron and is busily pouring drinks at the far end, near the door for those who just want their drink and want to enjoy the view. "One long island, one zombie, one screwdrive, one… martini - dirty" She calls out to the waitress, the drinks all sequentially placed on the tray for the last employee to take off to tables in the back. "Next!" "Johnny on the rocks" Some blonde guy hollers above the noise. "Johnny on the rocks" Abigail calls back and turns to fill the order, the little gold cross arcing and then settling once again at her neck.

So not Lola's kind of place. She was just looking to break into Abby's apartment again, but instead she got swept away from the steps and toward the bar by the crowd. Of course, she manages to stay out of Abby's sight for awhile, but soon she'll begin to notice a strange trend - as men go to pay for their drinks, they suddenly can't find their wallets. Strange? Possibly!

But Lola is around, skirting around the bar as she makes her way. Then, the bartenders might notice something else interesting - as these men reach into their pockets to pay, they have wallets - just not theirs! Somebody's playing games here…

The place itself was lively, and for once, Adelaide was enjoying herself, drink in one hand and eyes on the rather rowdy crowd of men, on the other. For once she's truly drinking in the atmosphere. Its like Coyote Ugly on , hmm no its pretty much like that. Adelaide's got a close watch on her personal affects- too many people and grabby hands didn't mix.

SO it is that Abby gets someone who is holding someone elses wallet and looking perplexed. His options to pay with someone elses money, or… He does what he does which is offers the wallet to Abby who raises a brow. The music dies down then, the top of the hour done and the ladies are clambering off the bar, one by one cleaning off the top before opting to serve off them again. "Steven Zimmer!" Abby calls out. "Steven Zimmer, I have your wallet!" THe poor guy looks sheepish, the one who had the wallet and Abby shrugs then pushes the drink over, free of charge. She's feeling a bit generous tonight.

There's a slight giggle in the low of the music when Abby has to call out the man's name, but she probably doesn't hear it.

Still, the answer will be showing soon enough.

"Howdy sugar," Lola drolls, walking up to the bar with that mischevious grin of hers as she looks over Abby. "So, gonna tell me what's good?"

Adelaide smiles as she hears names called, for lost wallets. She watches the others, though Abby and Lola, both make her turn her head, she's only gotten a few glimpses of them through the crowd and now that her drink's mostly empty and begins to approach the bar. "Heya." she says in a cheerful tone.

The black wallet in hand and the owner raising his hand and seeming to be moving forward and checking his own supposed wallet, Abigail looks over at that oh so familiar southern drawl that is even deeper than hers.


A heartbeat.

"It's you. lemme guess, playing hot potato with the wallets? Stealing the tips from the jars?" Steve Zimmer comes up to claim his wallet, a brown leather one exchanged in it's place. One glance inside and Abigail calls out again "Albert Denster! I have your wallet! Heavens, Lola, how many of these did you do?" Has to be Lola, it's her sorta thing. "Hey" she calls answers to Adelaide, not really recognizing the woman right off the bat.

"Hey now," Lola says, putting one hand on her hip and pointing a finger at Abby. "I'll cop ta the potatoes, but I ain' never stolen a tip from a barmaid, server, or waiter in mah life sugar. Spent quite a few years at the trade myself, got nothin' but respect fer them folk. Hell, I'm even helpin' ya - these fellahs'll be so grateful they'll tip ya more. Get me a drink, ey?"

Lola settles down in front of Abby, parking it with no intention of moving for awhile. Looking over her shoulder at the 'hey' she sees Adelaide. "Hey yer that…yeah." At least she didn't say it!

Adelaide grins. She takes a brief moment to nudge her way closer to the bar, just outta the reach of a few of the rather drunk patrons. She glances at Lola and nods. "Yeah, its me. You sound… less then enthusiastic."

Keeping true to his word, the door opens with a bit of a chill still clinging from the September air. However, what Scotch did see when coming into this fine drinking establishment is something he didn't expect. Such as people dancing or such. Well It is New York and it is a bar. There's a slight look back, as if he half expects his old congregation from Louisiana to spill in and then shriek at the sinnin going on. All the same, the pastor continues on towards the bar, weaving around a few people here and there, before he is scootching in to find a place just to lean. See, he's got practice leaning on bars. Comes with having been in the Corps.

A look down the Bar, and Scotch is doing his best to get some silent attention from one of the ladies back behind the bar. Drinks need to be ordered dangit.

'Just… can you go and fix the wallets back please? Do that and I'll support your bid for negative attention and give you a drink free" Abigail mutters to the southern woman as she looks between the two of the women. "Well, you know each other it seems and less than.. happil… Pastor!" Surprise. Another baptist and in the bar. no more women dancing on the bar though. "Brenda, send him down this way" The familiar sight hollers down the bar.

She pauses a brief second, Adelaide does at the word pastor being called out- that was a word she never expected to hear in a crowded New York Bar. She turned her head. "

Lola smirks to Adelaide. "Well, sugar, I could shout ta the whole world where I know ya from, but that wouldn' end well for you, I think." She shakes her head, wrinkling her nose. "In what world do I know where all these wallets go? I just changed 'em haphazard-like, I wasn' actually payin' attention. But here." She dumps two more wallets and a set of keys on the bar - she's keeping the Rolex. "I'll trade ya these fer a drink?"

Brenda, does indeed send the right Reverend on over with a smile and a wave of her hand. And so it only takes a short time before Scotch is finding himself in front of Abby once again. A smile on his face as the Texan accent comes out in his greeting "Hello again, Miss Beauchamp." Scotch says with that grin to his lips. "Didn't figure I would be out here so soon." the pastor offers as he looks down to the other folks he's now wedged up against. "But, Here I am..What's on tap?"

"Christ Lola. Seriously, can you not do that in my bar? Please" The woman is here to stay and Abby's going to make the best of it. "Got everything McCoy. Look at the wall and look at the tap, pick. First ones on the house. Call me Abby here or Nun" She flips open the two wallets as Albert comes to fetch. "Patrick Masters! Gerry Dobson. Congratulations! Your wallets have been found! please come to the bar!" They're slid off to Brenda to take care of as she shakes her head at Lola's antics.

"Adelaide is it? So. you decided you didn't want to sing here and didn't leave me a call" Abby looks a bit disappointed. "Pastor McCoy, this is Adelaide, and this is Lola. Keep an eye on your stuff she likes to steal it. Speaking of which" She gets a glass out in anticipation of a drink order while filling up a lager for Lola. "Give me my Jesus back"

She pauses a brief second, Adelaide does at the word pastor being called out- that was a word she never expected to hear in a crowded New York Bar. She turned her head. "Pastor?" she asks with a curious glance to try and see the man- well she assumed he was male, down towards the other end. She looks at Lola… "Well yes and no," she admits. "I don't know if its the 'end' or not for me if you did that. I'd think of it as… ummm publicity?" she takes a moment to consider the words carefully.

Adelaide smirks. " Yes, and its not that I didn't, want to sing. I really do, but classes and other things have sort of pushed stardom dreams off to the side for the moment. She takes few moments to ponder over the thought of a drink.

"Abby works, figure Nun, just doesn't fit you." A snicker there from the pastor before he's looking to the back of the wall, seeing what he might be able have on the old pallet as it were. A lick of s tooth before he's nodding towards a beer "Gimmie a Yeungling." Apparently someone has been north of Dixie once or twice in their life time. However at the introduction of the other women there's a nod and a look to Lola first. When Adelaide does speak up he is nodding. "Yup." and there's a raise of his brow for a second. "Somethin' wrong with that?" A little curious, there. As for his wallet. He's not patting where it is. That'd just sign a death warrant on it.

Lola sticks out her tongue at Abby. "Now that just ain' true. I ain' gonna be so mean as all that, steal from…aw hell yes," she nods to Scotch. "Watch yer pockets or I will get ya, sugar, especially now that I warned ya. Poses more of a challenge. An speakin a religious folk, why do you think I know anythin' bout yer jesus? If that's yer way a tryin' ta convert, sugar, I kin get us a chicken on the way home." For slaughtering!

"Becasue the last time I saw it, was just before you came into my home. It was on the table. When I came home, it was gone and my roommate, he's not the kind to touch it. Put the jesus in the back room down here tomorrow, or you'll see how much trouble I can get you in" Her ale slid over with a pointed blue eyed look. Don't touch my expensive Jesus bitch. Yeungling though, She has that and after a moment spent behind the bar and muffled "That's okay Adelaide" she produces a bottle, pops the cap through a fancy maneuver that is her palm against the cap/counter and it's pushed across with a glass. "Jesus, healing the blind man. Someone I know gave it to me as a gift when he found out what I could do." She glances back to Lola. "Don't make me tell him, i'm sure he'll delight in playing with you"

Adelaide nods to the Pastor a brief moment trying to figure things out. "Something wrong with?" she asks hoping to tease information out of him. She takes a quiet second of reflection before it clicks with what Lola just said. "Oh chicken-" she says before stopping herself. "Someone stole your Jesus, Abby, that sounds really twisted." She looks at Abby… and then nods. "Ahh, yes. That's an appropriate one… I don't think anyone could give my anything like that… I'd feel weird receiving something like that. I mean no one's gonna be 'proud' of what I can do… I don't think.."

Scotch raises a brow back towards Adelaide as it seems the woman is trying to get something from him. "My job?" he thought it was inferred. Though when the Yeungling is brought with bottle and glass, Scotch is easily distracted and takes time to pouring himself a drink. If he was on the back of a pickup, the bottle would be just fine. "Thanks, Abby." said softly before he's looking between Lola and Abby respectively. "I take it I am missing something here in the context.." such as someone playing with someone else. Yeah, McCoy will take the high road and try not to touch that subject just yet. A clearing of his throat and he'll be having a pull. Though the rest of the information is tucked away, even if he's not making a show of it.

Lola raises her hands, innocently. "Aw come on now darlin, ya think I'm the only thief in this city? Granted, I'm one a the few decent ones, I will give ya that. But I stole an apple, that's all." She intends to give back the statue. Just…not right now. It's more fun this way. She looks over at Scotch, who she sits shoulder-to-shoulder with and smirks. "She's just a lil' paranoid, sugar." Louisiana drips from her accent

Just a little paranoid. "You stole my cross, and my wallet when I was back home. Paranoid, I am not" Darn woman called her bluff too, not like she'd sic Adam on her. That's just cruel. But she's going to avoid the fish hook that's in the corner of her mouth. She'll concentrate on listneing, and serving up drinks orders from people who squeeze between others and place em.

Scotch looks back from Adelaide, before he's turning to take in the small bruhahah between one of the patrons he's just met, and is coincidentally at his shoulder, and the bartender whom he met not too terribly long ago. "Look." now it seems that Scotch is indeed weighing in on this fight as opposed to just watching it. "If you did take something of hers. If. I think it would be really nice if you gave it on back to her. Personally, I can't see the joy of taking from someone. Specially now when a lot of folks have so little. Sure, money I can understand, but if its a Jesus icon..I'd just as well say give it on back, if you have it." A roll of his shoulders and another sip of beer. "Jus' th' Christian thing to do."

"Naw, darlin. Ya got it all wrong. I stole yer wallet first. Then ya chased me down the alley, remember? Then I stole yer cross. That's it." She smirks, looking over at Scotch. "An you too, sugar, got it all confuzzled. Most a what I steal, I give back anyway." She tosses a pen lightly up onto the bar from her lap - one Scotch might recognize as coming from his pocket. "It's a great way ta meet people an all a that. Plus ya learn a lot."

Abby just rolls her eyes, a bit of a disgusted look. "Good luck getting into my place here on in. Watch out for the snake pit" She bites out, unhappy but trying to contain it for the sake of the pastor.

Scotch looks back towards Lola, and then a look back towards the pen. A simple clicky pen, but a pen none the less. A faint raise of his brows, before he is looking back towards Lola and there comes a rather noticeable frown. "So you learn I carry cheap ass pens." The pastor remarks, before he is taking another sip there. "I'd like it if you kept your hands outta my pockets next time. If you're gonna go gropin around. At least let me ask for it first." A crass remark, but it still stands. Ooh look, beer.

Lola rolls her eyes, returning to her own beer. "Nobody's got a sense a humor no more," she grumbles, shaking her head at Abby. "Well I spoze it's a good thing I didn' steal no Jesus, else I wouldn' be able to get back in to return it, would I? So I don' do things like ya'll - so what. I ain' hurtin' nobody."

Scotch lets a laugh come out in one successive bark. "I got a sense of humor, kiddo." the man drawls out over the rim of his glass. "I just don't like havin' women shoving their hands down my pants, without dinner first." A roll of his shoulders and he's looking back at Lola. "You really think, stealin from folks, don't hurt em?" A brow up there. "Girl, I know plenty of people back on Staten that would disagree with that statement. Hell its a reason half my neighborhood is armed and watchin their squatter homes like they were expecting a pack of raiders to come in out of no where." and now he's out right facing Lola. "Can't say I blame em."

"Sorry, my sense of humor is on a floor of a brothel in Staten island along with my tongue" It's delivered dead pan by the blonde behind the bar and a wink to Scotch. "If you have it, put in the back room." She focus her attention to Scotch. "When you heading back and welcome, to Old Lucy's. The creation of one Izzy, a real party woman who passed away and passed it to me. I try to keep it as she liked it"

Lola rolls her eyes, finishing her beer as she pushes to her feet. "No," she tells Abby easily. "I like havin' a little bit a fun. If that's a crime fer ya'll…well…" she shrugs. "I like ya sugar, I do." She speaks to Abby. She's not impressed with Scotch. At all. "Loosen up a bit, remember? Yer willin' ta look past a party woman's sense a fun. I cause mischief, not much else." If Abby only knew what else she'd done.

As for Scotch? She just smirks, and shakes her head. "Explodin' body parts'd be my best memory a Staten, sugar. I guarantee ya that's got more ta do with anythin' but the little thievin I do. But if what I do's really the problem there, if the torture an murder's cause a folks like me? Lock us up." She chuckles, shaking her head and turning to walk out.

Scotch rolls his eyes there for a moment "Its all those things. But, looting is stealing kid. Just stop doing it, if you can." Something offered, even if it is not really said. There's a look towards Abby and then he's shaking his head to Lola once more "Look-there is a difference between looking past a woman's sense of fun and past. Something different when that woman doesn't look at what she has done t' learn from it, for the better of others. Not just herself." And with that he's draining down the rest of his beer. A look to Abby "Can I get another?"

"Yup, you can have another" Abigail answers, dipping behind the bar and grateful for it. Gives her a chance to take a chance to breath deep a few times and keep herself from blowing up at the southern woman. Lola knew just what buttons to push. "Take care Lola, love you too" She fires off as she pops the cap again on the yeungling and passes it over to Scotch. "And that is Lola"

Lola turns a moment, frowning - really, frowning, perhaps for the first time for Abby - at Scotch. "Sugar," she says, making her way back to him and putting an arm on either side of him, leaning her weight on the bar to trap him in a little 'cage'. "Ya don' know the first thing bout who I am, what I do or what I done. Sayin' I'm some cause a the shit in this town cause a what I do is ignorant an rude an untrue." There's something severe in her tone - some dark, strange thing. And then she's turning, elbowing - rather harshly from the 'ows' and 'heys' that go up through the crowd - her way toward the door.

"Kid." barked back as he turns a look back to the departing woman. It seems whatever he was going to say is lost, before he's looking back towards Abigail, and yes now he is checking for his wallet, to make sure it hasn't been lifted by the woman who is elbowing her way out of here. "She's.." and there's a chew of the inside of Scotch's cheek. "She's something.." A shake of his head. "Stealin is as bad as the others..Don't-" and he's swallowing down words, with a sip of beer. That seems to be the best medicine.

"She's different. She'll make her way just fine until she gets killed here" Abigail reaches up to rub at her temple and pours herself a coke. "There's a lot of different folks in this city. She's a new addition from New Orleans" She notices the wallet patting and peers. "You still whole? She didn't steal anything more than the pen? I swear, she's like a klepto. It took me banging on her door at like five in the morning to get my cross back before I had to get back here to new york. I wasn't leaving without it. Lost too many of em"

"I'll say that." That the girl is different. But, that is where Scotch will stop. Normally some other pious person might say here, I'll pray for her. Not Scotch he just shrugs and takes a sip as if to keep whatever little rant is in his head down. Another pat and there's a nod "She didn't find my wallet." A pat to his front left jeans pocket. "I'm good." And then he is looking back with a rueful grin. "Yeah well, I doubt she would care if I just showed up in her house, wanting my shit back." a cough ad then he's leaning a bit into the bar. "What was that shit about losing your tongue?"

'Used to be a faith healer" She has to pause and look over. "Not that kind. Just.. a card carrying, registered faith healer. I healed anyone who crossed my patch and needed it" There's a shrug of Abby's shoulders, trying to play it off. "Some people thought that meant they could take, instead of ask. One day, about… a few weeks into being kept like a keg on tap, I.. " Noope, not gonna elaborate. "Lets just say, this isn't quite my tongue and he had another healer on tap. And I've never been the same since then"

A look back towards Abby, as she elaborates and there's a raise of the brow-that is quickly staved off as she continues on. "Oh." said after a moment, and then his focus is right there looking into the beer bottle. Another sip, before he is looking back up to Abby. "Well, I am sorry that had to happen to you.." a laugh there, though there isn't any warmth "Fuck. What do you say to that?"

"Guess your favourite sandwich is cows tongue?" Abby offers up. "Slip me some tongue baby!" A pitcher of beer is drawn off the tap and placed on a tray and some glasses popped onto it for the waitress to come around and fetch. "Pimp got your tongue Abigail?" She offers a smile towards him, ponytails swinging gently in it's hold.

"Hah." Though again not really felt, but the grin is genuine enough from him. A look to his glass, before eyes are traveling back, and watching ponytails slightly. 'Don't know if any of those apply to. Sorry you got treated like shit and lost your tongue. Glad you're better now." A kiss of his teeth and Scotch's hand comes up to scratch along the scruff of his beard. "I'll remember those next time the subject comes up though."

"The subject, very rarely comes up. If it helps, I got his eye. Annnnd, I put the thump in bible thumping. right across his face. Don't think he ever saw that coming" A glance at the clock means that she's satisfied with her time put behind the counter and having earned the salary that she gives herself. Less than the rest there but more than enough for her to live on. A glass of something green and reminiscent of swamp sludge is pulled from below.

"That, is why I don't like Staten Island. I spent a month and a half in night hell, came out looking like a skeleton and finally put some people on my do not heal list. But for god, and some friends and one really good doctor to get me back on my feet, I'm upright and talking to you. So. Family? Got any?" and because she doesn't really want to spend the three minutes fighting for her path to get around to the other side of the bar, up and across she goes, to the hoots of her co-workers and down into a seat beside the pastor.

"I guess it does. Mind you, I never expected to hear that story. Shit, I was half expecting." and then he is shaking his head for a moment, and it seems the pastor knows at least, when to leave well enough alone. "I'm not going to go there. Sides, not with too many people about. Don't want you catching shit one way or the other for it." A faint frown there before he is coughing into the crook of his arm. You can blame someone else for that nice bit of manners

"Yeah, I did. Once." and he leaves it at that for the moment. "Folks are dead." And there comes back that gruff shell which was momentarily down. "What are you drinking?"

"Swamp sludge. Habit. It's actually fruity and healthy. Something I picked up post Staten" Dead family. No, that's not a good subject. "Oh, so. A friend of mine on the Island. She works with Chicago Air. She's going to be stopping by to say hi, see if you need anything. They do supply runs and provide food for folks on the island who need it. Told her about you, and she said she'd check in, stop by. See if there could be mutual helping out"

"Swamp Sludge." it is repeated, obviously as Scotch eyes the drink again "Sounds healthy." a laugh, okay so a bit of a joke there, but that is mainly a Texan snickering at something that could only, and clearly be A Cajun thing. However at the prospect of someone dropping by, he nods just once. "Alright, I'll be sure to stick around the Island tomorrow." Which means he'll head back tonight or in the morning, depending on if he feels up to it, or if he is completely drained. "Went by to check on your friends this morning, but no one answered the door." Which was probably wise in hindsight, if he knew how things were with that particular house. "Figgered they might have been asleep or out."

"You might not want to do that…" Abigail frowns, trying to figure out how much to tell, her tongue darting out to lick her lips before she points to the back room. "Follow me?"

Scotch turns his head, and he's taking his beer bottle, as he slowly rises up from the stool. "Sure." said back quietly. Still something doesn't feel overtly right. Of course this is where someone comes and hijacks him for money, or Scotch finds out that Abby is supplying a drug house. Something like that.

Not ad rug house, but the backroom is stocked with cases of beer, ready to be put out front at a moments notice. Staff bathroom, a couple doors that lead up, kitchen, or to a closet. Steel lockers for employees and tables and chairs. Abigail sits in one, a hand swept to another chair. "I get the feeling that you're the kind of man who.. understand Evolveds and doesn't mean them harm. The garden? It's like, a stepping stone, for folks, families, that are evolved and find that their current situation, once they've been found out, isn't that safe. So they spend a few nights there while they get their stuff together. Some place safe, and where they won't be harassed. I was stopping in to drop off some food the other day"

Scotch is quiet as he is led back into the backroom. Cases of beer and everything else seems to be what is expected. After all it is a bar. A look to the offered chair, and there is a nod from Scotch, before he is moving to take the seat, and ease on back for a moment. Silent, the pastor continues to listen, and remains so once Abby is finished. "Well." quiet there for a moment longer. "You would be right in your assumption. And trust me. This doesn't leave here." and so with that there "But, I'd be remiss to turn on my own kind.."

"Gifted as well" Abigail smiles a bit at that. "Don't worry, you don't have to tell me. I'm not, not anymore. Courtesy of the lord, and someone else with a really odd gift. But now you know why they might not have answered the door. To them, you're a stranger. But, maybe… maybe i'll bring you with me, or Megan can bring you with her when next she visits. Just, be careful in the garden, cause, let me tell you, some of the plants are really interesting from someone who used to live there"

"Never got too close. Or snooped around. Just knocked on the door." offered back though as for him being gifted, there's just a nod. "I don't tell folks. Figure ain't there right to know. Not like I can do anything to them." Well, he might, but he's never tried it out. In fact he is very unwilling to so. "Well, good. Hell I've done the same thing for a few families needing off the Island. Though my contacts are stretched thin as it were." So its rare when he does hide folks, but he has done it. "I guess that explains people I've seen out there."

"All sorts out there. Listen. I have a spare room upstairs. I live just above the bar. my Roommate Leonard's real quiet. If you want to take up the spare room, instead of making your way out to the island before curfew, it'd only be christian of me to offer it" There's a gesture to the one door that looks strangly out of place, like it should be outside and has a couple locks on it.

Scotch turns his head, before he's looking back towards Abby, and there's a shake of his head. "Actually, it won't take me anything to get where I need to be. Trust me, I can make it back before curfew and even after without no one knowing the difference." Which is true, though it seems Scotch isn't too willing to go beyond that. A cough before he's taking another drink of his beer. "But, it is very nice of you t' offer. Hell, I mean I offered you right?"

That earns a slant of her head at the play on words but she'll figure it out, work it out later. "Well. That's good" She smiles, in earnest now. "I should get back out there. They're gonna start dancing again soon and someone has to actually dish out alcohol while they dance. But, please, you can rest here, the door to the left, back out in the bar leads to the alley. It was good to see you Pastor McCoy. I'll keep you in my prayers with Pastor Sumter"

Scotch nods back towards Abby "Like I said, don't worry about me.." A faint smile given and he is setting the beer down , waiting for her to turn her back long enough. "And I will keep you in my prayers Abigail Beauchamp." A chuckle and he nods for her to hurry on. Though while he is thinking of it-wallet is pulled out and a few bills are placed under the bottle. And if her back is to the man, and she off to deal with the bar. The only thing she will have to know that was was there was the sudden noise, as if static just occurred, followed by the thick whisps of smoke, left in a vaguely man like figure. That…And the overiding smell of Sulfur.

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