matt_icon.gif elias_icon.gif abby_icon.gif brian_icon.gif

Scene Title Stormfront
Synopsis Elias corners Matt in a bar, and the conspiracy grows. Abby and Brian show up and get dragged into the mess.
Date January 23, 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.

It's been a while since Matt Parkman has had the pleasure of sitting down a place by himself yet not "alone" to have a drink. He's lucky it's been long enough that the oasis he finally stops at isn't one "where everyone knows your name." His tie is loose and his short hair is looking long enough to warrant a cut. If it weren't for the subtle quality of his clothes, the man would look a little down on his luck, what with his mussed appearance and the bags under his eyes.

Unlike many of the bar's patrons, Matt, though seated at the bar proper, doesn't pay much attention to the young women strutting their stuff on the polished wood or even acrobatically dishing out one draught of poison after another. He simply stares into the amber brown liquid with the thin ivory head in his own glass, his mind obviously elsewhere. If it were possible for someone to peer into Matt's thoughts, they'd find little there - he's simply letting things, namely the thoughts of others, wash over him. It is as if he were back home in Los Angeles, laying on a beach near enough to the water that it simply lapped at him, alternating between +cooling him off and allowing the sun to warm his skin.

It's a pretty good crowd in Old Lucy's tonight, and like Matt Parkman, not all present have come to ogle ladies or pick up men. At least one of them, in fact, has not even come to drink. Elias de Luca has more pressing concerns on his mind, such as the end of the world. But even that is on the back burner for the time being, pushed aside to make room for a more immediate concern.

Namely, Matt Parkman.

Hanging back among the crowd, his thoughts as quiet and unobtrusive as he is, hidden among the verbal chatter and mental static, in plain view but unnoteworthy. And only for a few moments more, once he feels confident that no one is going to sudden jump out and surprise him. Calmly working his way past the other bodies that occupy the area, he takes his own place at the bar within arm's length of the agent, casually running a test as he orders his own drink, putting on trial what he knows and what he's heard with one thought: Let's see what Uncle Sam has to offer. What this will accomplish, remains to be seen.

Technically, it is illegal to carry a concealed weapon of any sort within the city limits. This rule, of course, simply does not apply to some people in today's world, especially with threats hovering on the horizon. Elias's singular thought pinches the one patron of Old Lucy's with such a privilege out of his trance as if he were crab washed carelessly ashore only to collide with Parkman's body.

Matt snaps his head up and looks around him, one hand moving to brush back his coat and jacket in an attempt to reach for his only real line of defense these days, but it doesn't even make it halfway there before his eyes find Elias, who looks innocent enough if it weren't those words. In the end, the inital reaction simply looks like a jerk of sorts. His stare at the other man is open for a moment, but in a second Matt's eyes narrow with suspicion.

If a man is willing to project so loudly, he should easily recieve. Pursing his lips with a still imprecise anger, Matt tightens his jaw. I'm nobody's Uncle. Who the hell are you?

Matt could guess, of course, at who he is. Sharply dressed in a dark grey, three piece suit, with matching cloth gloves and no neck tie, despite having his shirt buttoned all the way up. No doubt his shoes are polished, black leather as well. All the makings of some government agent. Or a local mafioso.

Despite Matt's mental inquiry, however, Elias does not immediately reply, but calmly waits a few seconds until his own glass of beer appears before him. With calm precision, he lifts it from the counter and turns to face Matt. Table in the back is quieter, he finally replies in the unconventional, strange manner of conversation.

Elias adds, as a literal afterthought, If you're interested. Interested in what?

That's precisely the question at hand.

Matt doesn't look too sure as he watches the man out of the corner of his eye, turning back to his own drink to take a much needed sip from it. Give me one good reason why I should be interested. Matt's reply comes even as he drinks, but once he has set the glass back down on the ring of condescending it has gathered on the wooden bar top, he turns his head to regard the other man as he had before.

Why should Matt be interested? Elias has an excellent reason. You want to save the world, don't you? Beyond that, he doesn't extrapolate, or add. Not immediately. he turns slightly away from the bar and then makes his way towards that table he'd mentioned earlier, still somehow free of other people occupying it, for the time being.

Everyone wants to save the world, and two people who will be saving the world are waltzing into the bar. Though, not with great enthusiasim. Abigail, in an expensive jacket that matches nothing else she has. It's where she works so the bartenders all call out when the blonde they good naturedlyc all the nun comes in, while off duty, Brian with her. 'Come on. I need some red bull and then I can get you something good. What do you want?" She oblivious to who's inside and heading straight for the counter and behind it.

His hand interlocked with Abby's, Brian comes in behind her like a dog on a leash. He gives a little shrug at her question, though after an assessing gaze of the place his grip tenses on the girl's hand. Pulling her back to him. "Maybe we should go somewhere else.." The young man suggests softly.

There are plenty of people inside Old Lucy's. It's Friday night, after all, and the bar is in it's full short-skirted swing. That being the case, it is rather easy for the average patron absorbed in their company, drink, or the show put on for them by Old Lucy's girls to not notice the somewhat haggard looking man in the suit and coat at the far end of the bar slip back through the crowd to the back tables.

Matt follows Elias's shadow, but he is careful when he finally does sit, resting his glass on the table and immediately lacing his fingers to rest his hands beside it. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me who you are," he says in a soft but authoritative voice, eyes narrowed as he focuses in on the other man's thoughts. "But I wouldn't suggest hiding it either. I'd hate to dig it out. You'd hate it too."

"I-" Elias begins, settling into a more comfortable position- "Am a concerned party. Concerned about the world ending. It just might you know." That's as close to a hook as he cares to clumsily get. "There are dangerous people in the city right now. I know, I'm one of them, but that's not why I'm here. How about it, Agent Parkman?" Surely, Matt's employment is not exactly uncommon knowledge. But uncommon to whom? Elias seems pretty confident that he not only knows who he's dealing with, but also the best way to deal with them. "Think you can play nice in my sandbox?"

One hand on the bar, the other in Brian's Abby frowns, looking around to see what's got his attention. "Whats wrong?" She looks to the bartenders to see who's on duty. "I can't go get drunk anywhere else Brian, I didn't bring my ID with me. They'll card me anywhere else, and frankly, Isabelle will surely foot the bill" The blonde healer wrinkles her nose, still looking in the crowd of people.

"I really don't think we should stay here, Abby." Brian says urgently, casting a few hesitant glances at Elias and Matt every now and then. "Please listen to me. I have my ID. I'll buy for you." He urges. Tugging on her hand.

"I don't know," Matt replies with a tight frown, his words as clipped as they are whispered. "You've already pissed in mine." Still, it would be a lie to say that Matt isn't in some way interested in what this man has to say, even if it's only a red herring. So far, there is nothing bouncing about in Elias' head that would suggest he's here to steer DHS in the wrong direction. "Drop the games. Why are you here?" As Matt asks the question, the words reverberate slightly, but only in Elias' head. It's a compulsion of sorts - one that comes with a slightly painful push.

Slightly painful indeed. Elias isn't blind to it, doesn't miss the fact that something's up, compelling him to tell Matt something he was planning to anyway. He hopes that he can hold onto the details of it. "There's a certain group in the city," he begins, "And the big boss, my ex-big boss, is planning some really nasty things. We're talking, Biblical plagues, fire raining from the sky, that sort of thing. You with me so far, because I'm about to ask you for help with, 'dealing' with this group."

Abby's blue eyes fall on Elias and Matt. 'Teleporter won't bother us. Parkman won't either Brian. Both owe me. I'll call it in if I have to. Can we please stay here? I'm comfortable here. This is where I work and if things get to be too much we have a place to crash upstairs or the back room" The blonde murmurs to him, a pleading look in her face. "I'm too tired to go anywhere else and if you even think of saying you'll carry me…"

"I'll carry you." Brian says with a little grin as he looks down at her, pulling her in closer by the hand. Stepping forward, though it seems he's joking as he finally concedes. "Fine. But on the opposite side of the bar." He attests, sending one final glance at Elias and Agent Perkman.

It's all information that Matt already has, in much greater detail, but he doesn't let up with the pushing. The only relief that Elias gets, even without knowing it, perhaps, is that the telepath doesn't press harder. "Do I look like an idiot? Because if I do, tell me. I wouldn't want to give you the wrong idea."

Shifting slightly in his seat, Matt leans forward the tiniest fraction, his voice an inaudible whisper beyond their table in a bar so busy. "But I'm a nice guy, too," Matt says with the tiniest of tired smiles. "So why don't you go ahead and tell me what the best way to deal with these assholes who want to unleash a biological weapon is. I'm all ears."

This is rapidly, not turning out completely in Elias' favor, and he knows it. Details, Eli, hold onto the details. "You know much about national parks?" he blurts out, less gracefully than he should he liked. Matt wants to know the answer, and Elias will give it to him, as he sees it, so he doesn't wait for the agent to vocalize a reply before he continues with his explanation. "Think of, the city as a park." He doesn't miss his composure for long. "And all the groups you have running around in it are like wolf packs, including the one in question. Now, the alpha wolf leads a pack, and when he goes rabid, it's up to the rest of the pack to take care of him. But if they can't, or they won't, well…

"That's when the game warden has to step in, put down the rabid ones for the good of everything else." This stranger Matt is confronted with even talks like a mafioso, or so various movies would have him believe. "Now, I'm not saying you shouldn't do your job. What I am saying is that we let this happen. We put a rabid wolf in charge, and now, he's bit one of us, and has his sights on the rest of the world. It's our mess. Our responsibility." But that still leaves the issue of the 'game warden'.

"They're sitting off to the side' But Abby acquiesces, gesturing for Brian to go the proper non employee way, to a space at the end devoid of people. "You would carry me" Abby murmurs. "And you'd take my place if you could" The expensive jacket is unbuttoned and unbelted to be folded and craefully hung up inside the back room to the side before she joins Brian, on the business side. Cardigan, tank top, jeans, boots, little gold cross familar to all in the room catching in the light now and then. "What shall we spend our… fifth last day.. drinking?"

A little smirk at her words, giving a shrug in response. "Agh. Let's not talk about it okay? We can cry and whatever when it comes. Let's just.. get so hammered we don't know our names, alright?" Brian pleads as he goes to take a seat next to her, setting his hands up on the table. He sneaks a glance at Elias every now and then but mostly his attention is on the blonde with him.

"And what if this is a family park," Matt asks, allowing the metaphor to continue for a moment, "and I don't want any wolves in it?" It's not hard to guess who the game warden is, after all. "Because I know that I don't want rabies spreading to other packs. And I definitely don't want the dogs and cats to get it, let alone anything or anyone else."

Matt raises his eyebrows, but he is obviously not amused. "I don't trust wolves. They're wild. You can try to tame them, but they never change - they only change you. So tell me why I shouldn't put a rifle round through this wolf's head - and hell, why not euthenize the whole pack while I'm at it. No telling who he's bitten. How far it's already spread." It's then that he glances over Elias' shoulder just as Brian is starting to return his attention to the young blonde, but Matt doesn't immediately recognize either of them. "Friends of yours?" he asks in the dry tone of one not wishing to be known of or seen just yet.

At this new inquiry, Elias glances over his shoulder, but quickly returns his attention to Matt. "Acquaintances, more like it," he replies, leaning forward himself. "There are always wolves in the park, agent-man. There's nothing you can do about that, but you can influence them, make sure they get accustomed to you so you can find the rabid ones-look, ditch the metaphor, and just listen. Some of us understand exactly what it is we've done, and we intend to fix it, and don't mistake, there is not, a, doubt in my mind that even if we take him out, all of us are going to die in the process. You want to save the world, so do I, but give me a chance to make things right. We fuck it up, we're all still dead, but at least you will have all the information you need to clean up everything.

"But we are the best choice for the first attempt. We pull this off, he goes down, Vanguard goes with him, you have no paperwork to file and best of all, no one in this city who isn't directly involved will know what went down. It'll be just like none of it ever happened."

"Hammered so we don't know our name" That solves one issue. A bunch of shooter glasses are plucked from their storage spots, laid out in a line between Brian and herself. Tequila is grabbed, four of the shooters filled. It's plopped back for Brenda, the flirty bartender who seems to latch onto anything that is male and looks her direction to grab. vodka fills up four others, two of each pushed to Brian. "I'm likely going to regret this in the morning" Lemon, salt, both put up as well, but she picks up one of the vodka shooters, hers and holds it aloft to clink against his before down the hatch it goes, quickly followed by coughing.

Watching Abby flatly, he picks up his first shot glass and quickly puts it down. Brian grimaces, letting out a long sigh after the shot. He is now oblivious to Matt and Elias, already going on his second glass. After finishing he looks over at Abby, bringing a hand to his head for a moment.

Matt does his part and listens, pursing his lips as Elias finishes his little speech. "So if I agree and you don't pull it off, how do I get all of that information so I can stop more people from dying just because I listened to a guy in a sleazy bar?" Matt's eyes glance to Brian and Abby once more, but they seem distracted enough by their festivities that his entire focus is on Elias again soon enough.

"Well, that's the part where I ask if you can play nice in my sandbox," Elias replies, finally coming back to his original question, "I give you some info now, just what I have with me, which isn't much. Later, I give you all the documentation I have, photos, schedules, everything. And then, because I asked you nicely, you hold off and let the rest of us do our thing. We pull it off, it gets resolved without issue, we're all dead, or if some of us are alive, we scatter to the winds, you never see us again, and the most you have to do is quickly remove some biohazardous material from a warehouse somewhere, no sweat. We fuck up, you send in some kill-teams, mop up, quietly remove some biohazardous material from a warehouse somewhere, and spin the story however you like."

Abigails not that distracted, she see's the Home Sec agent look their way and he's looking at her, Matt's given a dip of her head in recognition, lift of the second shooter glass of hers before the Vodka is tiped back in time with Brians. "He hears with gladdened heart the thunder peal, and loves the fallen dew; He knows the earth above and under, sits and is content to view. He sists beside the dying ember, god for hope and man for friend, content to see, glad to remember, expectant of the certain end" The poem drummmed up from the dredges of the healers mind. She licks the side of her hand, sprinkles some salt. The salts licked quickly, shooter poured down her throat, and the lemon wedge finds it's way to her mouth and she sucks on it.

It's a dangerous thing, to dance with wolves. But it is an equally dangerous dance floor. Matt only needs a few moments to consider before he nods his agreement. An simple white business envelope is passed across the table, much like any other of the possibly shady and possible innoucous business transactions that take place in this very bar, when the liquor is running the its fastest and the music blaring at its loudest.

Once that envelope is slipped with a spy's grace into the breast pocket of his jacket, Matt stands and departs, leaving a half a glass of beer on the table with Elias. There's work to be done, after all. Even if Matt follows through on the agreement, DHS personal at all levels will remain as ready as they have been for weeks as they have anticipating the storm, needing only to be told where their targets are and when to shoot.

The clouds are gathering. You can smell it in the air.

For several moments after Matt stands up and makes his way to the exit, Elias watches him. Once he's out of sight, he finally takes a sip of his own beer, before also rising up and making his way away from the table. No towards the exit, no, but towards Abby and Brian. He doesn't know how much time he'll have, exactly, before he needs to move on Kazimir, but he doesn't think it can be very long. He needs to wrap up all loose ends and finalize all plans ASAP.

It takes him a few moments to make his way across the crowded floor, but finally, he finds himself within arm's reach of the two. If they'd been paying attention, they probably saw him coming, but then again, maybe not.

Abby sees him likely before Brian does, and maybe it's just who she is, but one of the tequila shooters is slid over to an empty spot, likely to be occupied by him soon. Salt, lemon wedge. Abigail's way of saying she's buying him a drink. "Brian, this is an acquaintance, Acquaintance, this is brain. Hurt him, i'll be upset" When Elias gets close. Then.. down goes another vodka. It's not hit her system… yet.

Draining another shot glass, Brian's eyes follow the glass lazily to the open spot where there's no one. Looking around to find said no one, his brows arch high as Abby introduces Elias to him. His brows narrow before he goes to stand quickly, taking a step forward to intercept Elias hurriedly. Where in he speaks in soft tones so to avoid Abby hearing him.

"I thought we weren't going to approach each other publicly. What the hell are you doing?" He practically growls.

Brian's sudden movement is a bit surprising, but Elias doesn't so much as flinch when he is suddenly faced with him. "This might be the last chance we get to approach each other at all," he replies harshly, "I'm down two men, and Volken's in Sylar's body. It'd be really, really good if you could tell your boss about this fact, so that maybe they'll be more inclined to schedule a meeting.

"The world is going to end in a couple days if we don't get moving."

Brian already… knows the teleporter. Or Brian's not telling her something. She couldn't hear what he said, but his body language says enough. And Elias doesn't look happy either. She leans against the bar, elbows on the metal counter top, waiting, her own quizzical expression.

"We already know that." Brian informs Elias calmly. "We know everything." He states, looking at the man with a slightly odd look. "Where have you been? We already have a plan in place. And we are good to go." Brian states, bringing up one hand he gives Elias a little pat. "So stop being Mr.Grumpy Gills and cheer up, we've got it covered." Was that his own voice that scoffed at him, or was it in his head? He's not going to ask. "Now, I'd appreciate it if you could recognize our deal." He says, in that growly voice again. "You could've sent me over a note with a bartender or something. Come on. Think."

Elias' reply to Brian statement is to raise an eyebrow. They know everything? Maybe he should've given them a little more credit. "Think?" he asks, "I am thinking. I'm thinking the least I could do is stroll over here and give both of you a proper 'goodbye', because this is the last chance we'll have to approach each, whether or not the world ends."

There are only two possible implications from this statement, but only one of them is likely. Whatever happens in the final showdown, the teleporter doesn't expect to live through it.

Abigail is patient. Very patient, one elbow on the counter, palm supporting her chin, raised blonde brows to Brian. This was supposed to be get blotto till they don't remember thier names, now it's Brian's chatting up the terrorist teleporter. Strange. Strange enough that Abby's grabbing another shot glass, filling it up with trequila for herself with a wrinkle of her nose. Wait.

"Listen bro. I'll pray for you, I'll pray you make it. But I don't want you going near her, got it?" Brian says firmly, but still silently. His eyes indicate who he is talking about. "We may have a deal between us but that doesn't count for her. You leave her alone. Alright?" He asks, giving a very solid look to the other man.

Rather than replying verbally, Elias raises his glass to his lips and takes a long drink from it. Returning Brian's look with an equally solid one, he says flatly, "I don't think she needs you to make her decisions for her. Kid." If nothing else, Elias is confident that Brian won't try too much in this place. He can't shout anything like he did in the church without causing a panic that will hurt more people than it helps, and if he resorts to physical violence, Abby will give him such a talking to. In this sense, he has the advantage, but despite it, he fully expects to get a faceful of knuckles when he starts pushing his way past Brian.

Hah! Underestimated! Think Brian won't try anything, you don't know Brian. The young man simply takes a step to the side to further bar Elias' passage, standing firmly in his way, one foot slightly behind the other to support himself in case Elias decides to try and shove him. "I like you bro, but you need to listen to me when I say fuck off."

For several seconds, Elias simply stares flatly at Brian. But if there are two things his career has taught him, it's to know when he's beat. And also that there is almost always a 'next time'. "The key to my apartment's in your kitchen drawer," he tells the younger man, not elaborating on exactly how it got into his kitchen drawer, "You'll know when you need it." And, at least as far as this conversation is concerned, that's the end of that. He won't make any more progress with Brian around. Leaning to the side so he can see around and look at Abby, he raises one gloved hand to wards his face and, touching his middle and index fingers to his lips, blows her a small kiss. Bidding farewell and possibly upsetting the over-grown teenager in front of him couldn't feel better.

Okay, that's looking a little.. not good. "Brian…." Abby cautions, loud enough to be heard over the din. A few look over but they look away soon enough. One of the female bartenders looks over, poised and ready to intervene if it looks like it might get out of hand. But it doesn't. There's just the the blow kiss from Elias which, in some small fit, well no, it's turning out to be a large fit, of alcohol starting to make it's travels in the blondes system, she only giggles and reaches up to catch it before waving goodbye and waiting for her erstewhile protector to return after all his posturing and threats.

Exhaling a deep breath, the man gives a little nod with a slight smile as Elias concedes. "Thanks." He offers, a tad more weakly than he had been speaking before. As Elias starts his retreat, so does Brian, he doesn't seem to mind the blown kiss. And finally returns to Abby to down another shot.
You paged Elias with 'bah, not like Elias doesn't know how to get ahold of her if he really needed to :laughs:'

Abby frowns when Brian comes back. "What's his name?" She asks, sliding the tequila's and vodka's back to him. The flush that crawls across her face is from the alcohol, and her frown quickly dissolves into a goofy smile.

Picking up his next shot glass, Brian puts another one back, giving another grimace as it goes down, letting his tongue smack up against the roof of his mouth a few times as if to get rid of the taste. "Can I get a coke?" He practically coughs out. "It's Eli." He adds as an afterthought.

"Eli" That's the name. Finally. Abby nods, turning around to grab a glass and the nozzle for the coke. Her movements not quite yet hampered. One for him, one for herself. "He owes me. I guess, that is soon gonna be one more unfulfilled I O U"

"He'll get ya later." Brian murmurs as he shoots back another one before drowning it down with a long gulp of coke. His face starts to feel hot, his hand laying limply on the table surface.

"You okay?" Abby asks. mood killed, sorta. She gulps at her cola, before switching out the tequila and vodka with a rum. her time here's taught her more than a few things. What goes with what. 'you don't have to stay Brian. The girls will get me home"

"I'm fine." Brian says despite himself a grin raises up on his lips. "We're getting drunk together." He reminds, gazing at her for a moment. "So.. let's have some fun." He says, a broad goofy grin now present.

"I thought we were already before Eli came and you stopped him from getting a last free drink" But she dismisses that, considers it Brian protecting her. "What then, do we do for fun?" She's loose, that relaxation that only seems to come with alcohol that's coursing through ones body.

He waves a dismissive hand. "Forgettabout'im." Brian mutters, his words starting to slur together. For all his size, Brian isn't all that tolerant with alcohol. Credit it to his Mormon upbringing. Grabbing his next shot, he puts it back before drowning it out with coke. "I don't know.. what do we do?"

Abigail leans in, eyes level with his. "Brian. I don't know. It's been.. four times ever.. that I drank? I guess we… " And then the music kicks up tenfold, some rock song blaring and the bartenders start to hop up onto the bar. Abby grins before she offers her hand to brian and pops up onto the bar herself snatching up one of her remaining shots and knocking it back. "we dance" Yelled over the noise.

"Abby.." Brian says, though it's more of a groan. "We're going to look like drunk idiots." He practically whines in protest as he's on his feet, his hand in hers and he allows himself to be led by her, though his features are somewhat pained.

'Fine" the blonde pouts. Already up on the bar though, she opts to sit down on top, dangle her feet over it. "Then, what do you deem fun?" She's getting to the same stage as Brian. His coke cup though, gets a healthy dose of rum, as does the empty shooter beside her, legs swinging back and forth.

A little grin of victory as he leans against the bar where she sits. Bringing the glass to his mouth he swallows down hard the coke and rum before slamming the empty glass on the bar. Putting his arms down on the bar, he lets his head lay down on them. He didn't think he would win that one. "I don't know!" He says, giving a shrug. "Think of something else!"

'Do you know your name still?" Rum makes a burning path down her esophagus, and a harsh cough quickly thereafter. Another round of rum shooters for the both of them. "I don't think. We've established this. I do, and damn the thinking"

Grinning dumbly, he goes to straighten up and away from the bar. Letting out a little burp he brings up a fist to cover his mouth as he does so. "Brian Fufu" He laughs a little bit, his voice high pitched. "My last name is almost fuck." he points out.

'Almost! But not quite. At least it's no bohhhchamph" Abby points out. "Brian Faulk" She rolls it around on her tongue before one more round for the both of them. Coherency was swiftly fading, dissolving with each increase of blood alcohol level. "Ahbigail, Marie. Beauchamp. I can still say it, that's not right is it?" She hiccups at the very end, a high pitched thing and she covers her mouth with her hand in embarrassment.

Grinning, the young man takes a step forward, throwing one arm around her he goes to attempt to lift her up and off the bar to carry her back to the table they had previously been occupying. Laughing all the while he does so. Though his footing isn't as confident as normal, he's not likely to fall and crush her.. is he?

She's not that heavy, despite Deckards whining. There's a squeal and people part like the red sea to give them room and whoop and cheer on what to them is likely two crazy young people doing in love stuff. An arm goes round his neck, and free hand snags the rum bottle with it's aluminum spout.

Grinning as he arrives at the table where they were at before, he goes to plop down in his seat before releasing her, letting out another laugh. His free hand searching idly for another glass or bottle or something

on his lap she sits, a moment or two before back to her own. "Lets just drink. Drink and… plan what we would do, if we had all the money in the world, and could go anywhere, one last thing to do" The bottle plopped on the table and snatching some shot glasses.

Another laugh. "You always take it to depressing topics." He murmurs before giving a little shrug, taking another drink. "Fine." He lets out, "We'll play your game, you first."

"I do. Fatalistic, remember. Bad bad Abby" But she pours them drinks. Repeatedly. "I'd buy.. a bathing suit, and I'd go to Fiji. There's a natural water slide I've heard, with bubbly water that just kisses your skin" She smiles at the though. "And i'd lay in the sun, and just… BE"

A little grin as he slams down another drink. Pulling up his hand to his mouth again, he lets out a little laugh. Leaning back in his chair, Brian grins broadly. "Kay. I'll go with you. That sounds good. Skin kissing, sun being, whatever."

"Fiji" She grins, goofily, laying her arms on the table and eying the woman as they dance on the bar. "If we make it, I'm visiting my parents. I'll get an advance on my pay and go see them. Two years is too long"

"Your parents are in Fiji?" He asks, a little bewildered. Brian gives a little shrug. "I guess I should go see my family too." He confesses, waving a dismissive hand. "Haven't seen any of em in a long time."

"no no, they're back in Louisianan. I'll go back there. Maybe a week or two. Though, your welcome to come too. I think my parents would like you" The blonde shifts, getting comfortable, the room start to do it's funny shifting on the edges of her vision.

"You want me to meet your parents?" Brian asks, peering at her intently. Taking down another shot, he leans forward a bit weakly. He's really not awesome at holding his liquor.

"No no no no no no, i meant, if I go down there, your welcome to come too. get away… I can show you how to shoot alligators. My momma makes really good alligator steaks. I don't know why I'm talking. I think, we should stop Brian. I mean, it's going to hit us really soon, the drinks.. I think I should head home. Al might be home by now. Head home while I still can"

"Alright." Brian says, smiling. Leaning back in his seat, he watches her across all the empty glasses and bottles, folding his arms over his chest slowly. "Should I bring another me? To get us?"

'Yeah… yeah. Probably. we can have one more before he comes. Tell him the key is in my purse, my rooms the one with the cross above it. Al will help if he needs it. Money in my purse for the taxi" Abby grins still dopily, breaking into giggles for no apparent reason. "You always can get home. There's so many of you. You'd make a good husband. Your your own renovation crew. doing the dishes, taking out the trash, walking the dog and mowing the lawn allllllll at once"

"I know, right." He says, grinning broadly. "I don't have to tell him anything, Abby. Him.. Me." He corrects, shaking his head as if trying to shake away the fog. "Remember? Everything I hear, I hear." He murmurs, grinning broadly. "I'll be here in a minute.."

"I forget that. I treat you like.. Niki and Jessica, like, your your own separate. But then, your not, cause you both hear. She's out, you know that? She's kicking Jessica's ass into line and not taking any shit from her. Ohhh to have been in her head and have seen it all" But Brian clone is coming and Abby's stumbling up from the table, heading to the back room. "Get my stuff'

January 23rd: I Don't Expect To Die
January 23rd: Bludgeon
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