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| Scene Title | Take Me Home Tonight |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | The children who had all been recently moved to the Garden from various safehouses are being taken somewhere new and get reunited with Brian. Or so it appears. |
| Date | July 30, 2009 |
Situated in a copse several miles away from the nearest stretch of asphalt, the Garden is accessible via an old dirt road that winds snakelike through the woods and dead-ends at the property's perimeter, which is surrounded by stone wall plastered with wicked coils of rusty barbed wire to keep would-be intruders from attempting to scale it. Those with a key can gain entry via the front gate.
The safehouse itself is a three-story brickwork cottage over a century old and covered in moss and ivy. It slants to one side, suggesting that the foundation has been steadily sinking into the wet earth; incidentally, this may be one of the reasons why its prior occupants never returned to the island to reclaim their property when government officials lifted evacuation orders and re-opened the Verrazano-Narrows shortly before its eventual destruction.
Inside, the cottage is decorated in mismatched antique furniture including a couch in the living room and an armchair nestled in the corner closest to the fireplace that go well with the safehouse's hardwood floors and the wood-burning stoves in some of the spare bedrooms. A heavy wooden table designed to seat eight separates the dining area from the rest of the kitchen, which is defined by its aged oak cabinetry and the dried wildflowers hanging above them.
The van's ignition is killed. A pair of hands sitting on the wheel, the driver does not yet move. He just gazes out at the scene playing out before them.
It's a bright afternoon, full of happy things: Clouds shaped like hearts, butterflies flitting around gaily, and a quaint little cottage sitting so.. quaintly. For the first time, even when facing down Arthur Petrelli, Winters displays a strange phenomenon.
He's nervous. "Delilah said she would meet us here." Brian mutters to the woman sitting in the passenger's seat. "I.." He takes a deep breath. "What if they can tell? What if the kids are able to tell I'm not..?" He stares out the window. "I don't know if I can do this, Gilli."
The cottage has many bad memories. Twice she followed a path of dead things to a man she cared about, only to end up losing him in one way or another. Gillian can't help but look at it quietly through the window where she sits, wondering exactly what kind of terrible thing will await her this time. Any chance that they're still there, though, is slim. They've undoubtably moved on. It's Brian's voice that draws her attention away.
Turning toward the driver's seat, she leans over and punches him in the arm. "Stop worrying so much about it. The more you worry about it, the more the kids will notice. You're still Brian, anyway. Think about what you were like two years ago and draw from that. You guys had the same foundation, you just went different directions, okay?"
There's a shake of her head. Maybe she really is the big sister. Or at least she'll think she is. "Come on, the only way to find out is to do this. The worst that'll happen is they'll think you're different and you are. You've been through a lot." Unlocking the door, she hops out of the van and looks back expectantly, in a 'you ready?' kind of way.
Vroom! It's not hard to notice the sound of a scooter- even harder to notice the actual vehicle when it creaks to a stop alongside Gillian's side of the van and the redhead astride it kicks it into a sit before turning it off. "I'm here!" Delilah chirps as she takes the matching powder blue helmet off of her hair with a click. "Sorry, traffic. I swear, some people…"
She slings the helmet over one of the handlebars before slipping off of the seat. "Coulda gone inside already, you two. It's not like its going to be a re-enactment of Home Alone."
"Ow." He whines as Gillian's hand bounces against his arm. Letting out a long sigh, for a moment it looks like Brian will just remain in the driver's seat. Gripping the wheel tightly, he finally releases it and opens the door. Sliding out he closes the door behind him. Rounding to the front of the vehicle he walks over to join Gillian. Giving a smile to Delilah he gives her a little wave. Closing Gillian's door for her, the man turns and quickly delivers a jab at Gillian's shoulder. Though not hard enough to cause serious pain, it's definitely harder than she hit him. And so as soon as he does this, he's running towards the Garden. Slapping his hands to his face and yelling.. Thanks Dee, for bringing up Home Alone.
A scooter. Gillian spots the not-little red head getting her helmet off and slipping from the seat. "Nice ride— Makes me miss my motorcycle," she comments quietly, though a scooter and a motorcycle are almost different creatures. It would make things easier to get around, but then she'd have to get it on a boat as well as her person. Then again, Cat's boat would be big enough for such a thing… And it's free. She's been abusing that recently.
"We only just got here a little while ago. You're not that late," she assures the redhead before starting to lead the way. "Good to have you along, Dee."
A scooter. Gillian spots the not-little red head getting her helmet off and slipping from the seat. "Nice ride— Makes me miss my motorcycle," she comments quietly, though a scooter and a motorcycle are almost different creatures. It would make things easier to get around, but then she'd have to get it on a boat as well as her person. Then again, Cat's boat would be big enough for such a thing… And it's free. She's been abusing that recently.
And he gets revenge for the punching. "Ow!" she exaggerates, rubbing her shoulder and giving him a look. "You shouldn't be punching girls. You'll never get laid like that." Yes. She made that comment. Neiner Neiner. "We only just got here a little while ago. You're not that late," she assures the redhead before starting to lead the way. "Good to have you along, Dee."
"Oh, Brian, you bugger." Delilah sighs loudly. "Thanks. You should have seen my first scooter, though." She follows alongside Gillian towards the safehouse proper. "It was a bucket of bolts if I ever saw one. Cherry red with rust accents. I don't remember what happened to it. I think it got left somewhere on Staten one day. No loss." Dee lifts her eyebrows a little. "If it wouldn't have crashed it would have given me lockjaw or tetanus or something like that instead." She has upgraded, obviously!
Stopping short at Gillian's comment, Brian turns around quickly and gives an angry look. "Really? Getting laid? That's what you're going to bring up?" Brian retorts, flailing his hand at Delilah. "There are ki—" He instead flails his hand at the Garden. "Kids!" Then he turns and starts for the door. "I could get laid plenty if I wanted." He mutters mostly to himself.
When he reaches the door though he stops. Turning he gives a pathetic look to Gillian, and instead of entering waits for her to catch up so that she can go in first. Tucking his hands into his pockets, he takes a deep breath.
"And what guy doesn't want?" Gillian yells after him as she hears enough of the mutter to do so. Children? Well, the children will just have to get used to it. "I carried the children that are staying here while butt naked thanks to your stupid ability that doesn't come with clothes, so I think they can handle a few vaguely racy words. If they'd even overheard them."
There's a smile cast over at Dee, though it's lacking in being completely genuine. She's having a rough … year. Moving to follow Brian to the cottage, she adds, "The new one definitely does look better."
Back out on the dirt road that leads into the Garden, tires crunch over gravel and stir at dust, kicking up clouds of the stuff when the steady snarl of an engine draws up into a series of stuttered growls at the gate when Deckard eases up on it. The car is a 74' dirt brown El Camino with primer showing grey through the hood — a little poof of dust and disturbed air curls away from the door he thud shut behind him when he gets out to mess around with getting the gate open for himself. Better than walking, right?
White dress shirt already collecting an off-white tinge from the dirt in the air, he hefts the gate open and drives the rest of the way in without issue, engine cut out in the yard and windows rolled down before he unfolds himself out of the driver's seat to join the others at an unhurried walk.
"I'll give you a ride sometime." Delilah has about five seconds to smile and wing a flirt without making it seem as such- and somehow succeeds, in the most hammiest of ways. It is then that she is distracted by the chomping of gravel under tires, and the approach of a nice car that so very badly needs a new paint job. When the driver gets out and the girls are at the door with Brian, Delilah narrows her eyes- which is of course a visible expression even from afar.
As Flint Deckard strolls up, she crosses her arms somewhat defiantly in his very presence. "Your poor car needs a paint job." If only hackles could be put on words!
"Flint." Brian whispers under his breath, mostly to remind himself what the man's name is. Pulling his hand up he offers a little wave at the rickety man coming to join them. He takes a step back, obviously finding trouble going to open the door. He sends a look at Gillian then back at the door. "Think they're even ready? Maybe we should just come back later."
"I'll take you up on that," Gillian responds to Dee, even as she glances back to look at the El Camino and an old man she doesn't know. Flint? Oh— well, THAT name rings a small bell, thanks to Cardinal, and he fits the other descriptor too. Old Man.
But Brian has to hesitate. "Oh come on, you can walk into a heavily armed facility when you know you're going to fucking die a bunch of times and you're afraid of a couple kids?" she exclaims, as she moves forward and knocks on the door for him. "Your big brother status has been revoked," she adds on, as the door opens to a member of the Ferry. "We're here to pick up the kids from the Lighthouse," she explains.
"It's not my car." For all that Deckard bothers with the slanted facade of a half-smile, he doesn't put any effort into making it look even remotely genuine. Blue eyes clear and the cut of his construction healthier than it's looked in months, were it not for the stolen car and the revolver holstered on his belt, he might pass for a normal guy who isn't almost dying or starving or being tortured for crazy reasons all the time. His wiry hair is shorn short, nearly level with the grizzle and bristle of his stubble collection and not nearly thick enough to mask the overlarge jut of his ears. The overall effect is a little surreal for those who know him enough to know that he should look worse. Which — probably unfortunately doesn't include anyone here.
Gillian is nodded to when he gets close enough. Politely, almost. Brian is eyed with something that looks a lot like wary insecurity, especially in the absence of a greeting, but he's quick to look away again when the door opens. Hghh.
"Well keep it and paint it sapphire blue. Maybe a pair of white racing stripes." She somehow intuitively guesses that the person it belongs to will probably not be getting it back. Delilah seems to be fine once it is established that she and Flint are not going to be thrown together in a flailing dustball. "No, just blue. It'll match your eyes." Okay, well, that part- that was teasing in its volume.
When the door opens, she lifts a hand to wave past Gillian's shoulder at the person inside the door.
"Flint." Brian says, offering a faint smile as he turns to face the entrance. "Yeah. We're here for the kids." He repeats Gillian flatly, before finally the door is open. "Kids?" He asks with a dumb smile. Taking a step forward, his hand moves up to remove his sunglasses. "Are they ready? The van is out front."
"I'll go get them," a Ferrywoman who assists at the Garden says with a serious look at each of them. The woman gives off a serious vibe, and has been at the Garden enough times in recent months that anyone who came in would recognize her as one of their regular helpers. Of course some people don't visit often… But she makes a motion to invite them inside if they choose, and then disappears to the upstairs.
Gillian steps inside first, still holding the door open for Brian. No air conditioning to let out. The cottage already has windows open, so holding the door won't cause much trouble. "I know you're nervous about seeing them again, but you'll do fine," she adds to her brother. What a baby though, seriously? At least she remembers to say 'again'. Like it's just been a long time and not— never.
A glance past him and she says, "So you're Flint, huh? Nice to meet you old dude."
"I like brown." Brown and grey. If you squint a little, it matches his hair. Dress shirt collar checked and tugged out of a weird half-flip thing over the undershirt he has on beneath, he maintains a marked distance from Delilah and Brian both.
He's last in accordingly, and keeps the door open behind him so that the flood of white yellow afternoon light at his back. Thus making it harder to make out that the look on his shadowed face at discovering his universal label of 'old dude' is one of flat annoyance. "Yeah." He's Flint. Also apparently incapable of casual conversation while they wait, as he tucks his hands partway down into his jean pockets as tips his head sideways to look at a piece of furniture rather than ask who she is back.
Stepping Brian gives a shake of his head. A smile forming, "I can't wait to see them." He murmurs as he moves in, bright eyes searching the place after he enters. "Joe?" He calls out, really starting to play the part. "Joe..Joe?" Glancing over at Deckard, he idly wonders what he's doing here.
"Flint. This is my ah, sister. Gillian." Brian states, motioning at Gillian then motioning back to Deckard. "Flint Deckard. Used to work at the Lighthouse before it.." He makes exploding noise with his mouth and a crumpling motion with his hand.
"Brown's pretty dull, but I guess it's fitting," Gillian says, pointedly looking at the old man. The lull in any form of casual conversation, so there's a silent lull of awkwardness as they wait. The best she can come up with is a quiet, "Too bad you weren't there that night. I could've used a hand getting the kids out— luckily I had about eight more than normal as is." She's heard of him, has he even heard of her? She has no idea. Little does she know how much she has heard about him.
Luckily there's the pounding of feet coming down the stairs as a couple of the kids move ahead. A yell can be heard from above with 'No running on the stairs!' but it's pretty much too late as there's a bunch of children suddenly there. Three, to be exact. Two boys, one girl. All of them Gillian vaguely remembers.
…Before it exploded and everything left in it was destroyed, including the Brians. Or so he was led to believe! Perhaps stupidly. Scruffy jaw set into an aside, Deckard suppresses a twitchy rankle at his nose, teetering around the border of rudeness while he looks Gillian over and nods to her a second time. Hello Gillian, Sister of Brian. He listens to the too bad thing with a flat look, a swallow, and still more awkward silence, hardly moving.
"Grrreat — well. I'm gonna catch a smoke, so." A scuff of blunt nails at the back of his neck later, he starts to step backwards for the door he just came in through, melting back into the glare of sunlight before the kids come tumbling through. On the bright side, the whiskey stink of him starts to drift out as well.
Feet slow as the kids make their way down the stairs. The first boy is around fourteen years old. The second boy younger, around eight years old. And the third child is about a seven year old or so girl. "Dawson, JoeJoe, and Lily." It's whispered from Brian, to himself and to Gillian. The young man steps up towards the stairs, the smile curling up broadly. "Hey guys." He says softly spreading his arms out.
For a moment the three don't respond, simply staring at the man who was previously known as dead. And then after a moment of silence, Lily and Dawson come bounding down the stairs into Brian's arms. Joe however, remains at the top of the stairs. Joe hardly reacts at anything.
Delilah is responded by the two more.. cheerful children, but most of their attention is directed at Brian. Their fake-father brought back from the dead.
"I like him," Gillian admits once Deckard is out of hearing range, though why would she ever claim such a thing? Maybe something about his attitude makes her like him, as opposed to want to kick him? Who can tell sometimes. It's not very genuine, though. She's still not happy or smiling— even when she spots the kids. Vaguely recognizing them from that eventful night, she tries to recall which ones she carried out— and she knows she carried Lily and Joe out personally. No clones for them. Joe'd been on her back, the girl in her arms. The others— is more difficult to recall. "Um… hey." Last time they'd seen her she was all multi-powered. And now…
Delilah smiles as two of the kids come the rest of the way to hug Brian, eyes up and resting on Joe. "Hey Joe." She gives him his own smile on her part. "You three been having an alright time of it here?" She has not seen them since before the Lighthouse's crippling, but hopes that they're still rather warm to her anyway.
There is a shadow that has come to darken the front doorstep of the garden safehouse; a tall, female figure stands in silhouette no more than a few feet from the door, watching the reunion take place. For the moment, she does not appear to have very much to say, but instead hangs back out of the way, smoking some sort of spiced and exotic cigarette.
Wrapping his arms around the two kids tightly he rests his head on Lily's shoulder for a moment. Looking up at Dawson, his hand ruffles the boy's hair for a moment. "Dawson. Lily. This is my sister, Gillian. Do you remember her? She helped you that.." That explosion night. "She helped you before. When you guys needed it." He says with a warm smile, scooting back he motions with his head to Gillian. "Go say hi to aunt Gilli." He says softly, giving the kids a gentle shove. "And you remember Aunt Dee, right?"
Lily races down the rest of the stairs to embrace Delilah quickly. Which leaves Dawson standing awkwardly by himself. He's fourteen he can't go hug a woman by himself. That's weird. But when Lily releases Delilah and heads for Gillian, that's when he goes ahead and joins.
Brian however steps up towards Joe. "Joejoe?" Winters asks softly, reaching out to him. "Come here, buddy. I'm back. It's okay buddy."
Oh man. Children. Gillian can't help but wince a little at the sight of all the hugging going on, but she does give a awkward-half wave to the children as she's reintroduced, "Yeah— sorry for running off on you guys that night. I had to… do some things." But she got them all out safely so that's the point of the picture, isn't it? It is in her mind, at least.
The woman helping get the kids down appears at the top of the stairs, looking at Joe, and hands him a backpack, "Take this down with you." It has clothes and a few other things the children have accumulated in their time here. She disappears back to wherever the rest of the children are, and continues to round them up. There's more movements, and there's a sharp snap of her voice. Perhaps to keep the rest from running downstairs to see Brian.
When Lily breaks away toward her, she glances over to the door as if to escape, and instead sees a silhouette lurking there. One familiar and known. "Lucrezia? I didn't know you were here."
Technically, Dee's only got a few years over Dawson- so sure, it might be awkward. But hugs all around to whoever wants them! "I'm glad you guys are okay." When the silhouette leaking curls of smoke appears in the door nearby, Delilah turns her head like the rest, yet keeps somehow quiet when the older woman is properly pointed out. Dee's face gives a silent greeting, but the girl does take a subconscious step backwards, leaning more out of the way.
The cigarette-smoking woman ventures out onto the stoop in order to reveal that she is, indeed, Lucrezia Bennati. No pictures, please. Of course, one of the delightful defining details about being abroad in America had been in nearly no one recognizing her for who she was to the rest of the world. Except for Gillian. The younger woman receives a smile that has been seldom seen until very recently — something slim but genuine — before she is welcomed with open arms into a typically European sort of greeting. Kiss kiss. Cheek cheek.
"I have been keeping an eye on the children," Lucrezia says to Gillian's shoulder, taking a step back so that she might be able to resume her carcinogenic proclivities without inflicting physical damage. She then wonders aloud, "Where are you taking them?"
Brian pauses at Lucrezia's entrance. She looks familiar. It couldn't be that one lady, could it? Brian, at one time being younger than he is now, and more… hormone-y is familiar with the actress. Even if he can't technically remember her name. But he doesn't believe that that is actually her, yet. "Thank you." Brian says down to her. "My name is Brian. I run the Lighthouse. The kids were in my care until.." Yeah. "We have temporary lodgings off the island. Eventually we're going to move back into the lighthouse. Right Joe?" Looking down at the boy the boy looks up at him, and after a long while finally cracks. A smile taking over.
"Okay." Joe answers.
"Brian set up something, I'm not sure what— when did you leave the Village?" Gillian asks the older woman, obviously rather familiar with her as she returns the hugs (though not the European-like kisses) and steps back when she does. It seems far more casual for her than the idea of hugging one of the little kids. There's some kind of difference. A hand raises up to run through her hair, revealing one of her many mutilated tattoos. Still ink, but there's something wrong with them that makes seeing what they're supposed to be difficult. Regeneration didn't like her tattoos, it would seem, though there's no way most people could know that.
"Lucrezia, this is Brian. He's the twin brother that I only recently found out that I had. My life's like one of your movies, I swear." It would almost be funny, except it really is becoming that crazy sometimes.
Delilah does get the feeling that she's met Lucrezia somewhere before- but is fairly convinced that she actually has not. Something is just familiar about her. And boy, Helena had the right track in feeling a bit clumsy around the Italian woman. There's an elegance that sometimes not even the best student can learn. "How is that going? The construction? Almost done?"
Wait, slow down a second- what- "…He's your twin brother?"
And upon this revelation— an often heard sound within the cottage, would be the front door opening, bouncing off its hinges, to admit whoever happens to be living at this place at a time. Gabriel doesn't quite qualify, but here he is, anyway, as if perhaps he did. He wears a dark green jacket drawn over a black-shirt, jeans caked with mud and dirt at the ankles from his trek through the Greenbelt, boots that tell the same story, and a bored expression.
There's a mutter of conversation that accompanies him, words thrown over his shoulder towards the lanky figure of Flint Deckard trailing in after him, and a rustle of plastic and paper— about three plastic bags dangle from fisted hands, containing the blocky, colourful shapes of standard groceries. Milk, bags of dried pasta, a loaf of whole wheat bread.
And he subsequently stops when the foyer is far more crowded than expected, gaze darting suspiciously over faces both familiar and not. The grocery bags raise up a fraction in an almost defensive posture, before Gabriel shuffles his way further inside.
Deckard looks much the same as he did when he stepped out — white dress shirt, blue jeans, revolver on his belt, fine brown dust settled into his hair and across one sleeve. There's a hefty brown paper bag balanced in the hook of his right arm and two more plastic ones swinging from his left hand when he bumps in at Gabriel's heels, side stepping once to make sure he isn't about to accidentally mow over any kids. He isn't. He stops when Gabriel does anyway, whiskey stink oddly unaccompanied by the smoke he said he was going out to partake of.
Lucrezia gets a look not unlike the one Brian got earlier, wary and unsure all the way down to the set of his scruffy jaw. Unlike the look Brian got, it eases off a little when he gets down to her boobies and one of his brows tilts up a little.
Oh, yes. It totally is that one lady. She shows her tits in everything, right, but— hey. Who's really going to complain about that? Besides, it's European, so it's artistic. Brian almost instantly earns the same sort of greeting that Gillian receives; the air on either side of his face is assaulted with smoky-sweet kisses while her cheeks brush against his — that's where the whole of the physical contact comes from in such an embrace. "Bravo," she says, repeating the word not more than a moment later, as Italians are oddly wont to do. "Bravo."
Lucrezia then quips casually to Gillian, "Who doesn't have a twin these days?" Shooing a wink Brian's way, she adds in false confidence to the younger brunette, "I bought mine early while all the pretty ones were still in stock but… he is not so bad." The Italian woman really does have a twin, of course. Identical, in fact. Some of the folks in the room might actually know this.
Oh, look! Grocery delivery! Lucrezia politely steps aside with Gabriel Gray and Flint Deckard wander their way in. The former is granted only the barest hint of acknowledgement in the hitch of an eyebrow with the latter is given a much more open inspection.
A hug is given to Lucrezia, and he looks a little awestruck as the woman plants European kisses on him. His brows raise up. "Lucrezia." He repeats a tad dumbly. He smiles and gives a little nod. "Thank you." While taking Joe's hand, and mixing hugs with the newly arrived kids, the replicator starts to lead them down the stairs. Gabriel is given a typical man-nod, but other than that he stays on course.
"Yeah, twins, we're the same age and siblings, so I hope we're twins," Gillian says to the red head, before the door opening draws her eyes back to the entrance. Oh look, groceries! But it isn't the groceries that catch her attention, but the man ducking behind them just a little bit. Lips part, a intake of air from her surprise. For a few seconds everything else kinda disappears, until she looks back at the stairs, towards Brian and Lucrezia. There's a mild fidgeting in the way her weight shifts from one foot to the other, before she looks back at the two men. One OLD, one… "Do you need any help?"
Actually offering to help with groceries? Why yes she is.
Brian can gather up the youngersters that are coming with them. She's the one who evacuated them, she doesn't really want to carry them to the van.
"Oh. But aren't your names different?" Delilah, colored confused. She ushers at least one child aside a bit as the front room gets even more crowded. Gabriel, for one- may or may not recognize her without having even met her. He did paint her, once upon a time. Gillian saw it too, but with all that's been going on- well. It was never really the first thing on her mind, was it? When Gillian even offers to help with the bags- Dee peers at her curiously before making sure that the kids(and Brian) are able to file outside of the door too. "Popular place to be, today, huh?" She states, to nobody in particular.
"Apparently," Gabriel states, a questioning glance to Delilah as if he could make her state her name and purpose in just a hawkish glance, although whatever recognition he might have for the redheaded woman isn't immediate, not here at the moment - like she suggested, it's a little crowded. The hint of greetings sent his way don't get much in the way of acknowledgment from Gabriel, for risk of becoming one of those bobble-headed dashboard dolls or interrupting the conversation, his focus currently trained on Brian and his herding of the tiniest occupants of the Garden with both curiousity and mild concern.
Gillian manages to break this spell, however, Gabriel swiveling a look to her that has him going all awkwardly quiet and guarded as well, before silently taking her up on the offer without much regard for the fact Deckard might be better off doing so. One of the bags is passed to her with a jerk of a movement, a plastic-wrapped baguette sticking out the top, before Gabriel's attention focuses on Brian and the incoming children.
"What's going on?" It's a quietly spoken question and somehow lacks accusation, more curious if still suspicious, especially that one of the midgets trailing after the caretaker is of vague interest. Bringing up the kaboose, Bai-Chan is hopping down each stair with careful deliberation. Though he had stepped aside to allow Deckard to enter, Gabriel remains standing within the entrance room rather than headed for the kitchen.
Lucrezia's as or more familiar than anyone here despite the fact that Deckard hasn't spoken to her in months and hasn't properly spoken to her ever. She inspects him, he inspects her, chill eyes lifted back to her face in time for him to manage a sliver of the kind of smile he shouldn't be smiling in a room full of Brian's ruffian kids.
Having apparently forgotten in the course of events that he's holding several bags of groceries, he tags a sideways look after the fact that Gabriel's managed to shrug his off onto a woman and shoulders on in to move off in the direction of the kitchen. Taciturn as he ever is lately, he mutters a gruff, "Taking the kids," as he makes his way out again.
So many people coming and going, coming and going, and all the while little Lucy lingers behind Lucrezia, taking refuge in the smoking woman's shadow. Right now, she really ought to be out in the yard looking for some sort of chubby worm or perhaps, if she's really lucky, a slimy bit of toad to bring back in to the house and bestow upon some lucky bastard who might reward her with a shriek or a start or a shudder. Instead, she's gone into hiding. And, maybe — just maybe — she isn't quite ready to leave.
The Italian woman, meanwhile, feigns ignorance as to her hidden hanger-on and instead takes part in the conversation while merrily continuing to smoke like a chimney and strike a nonchalant sort of pose against the banister. "Are we having a party, then? We should. That would be so lovely! A going away party." She speaks to no one in particular which is just the same as saying she's addressing everyone at once as if they were an audience interested in one of her soliloquies.
"Taking the kids." Brian repeats. "I am Brian, I run the lighthouse." He repeats for Gabriel's benefit. "So I'm taking these kids from your awesome hospitality, thank you, by the way. To where I can take care of them. Temporary housing until the Lighthouse is fully restored. Which is under construction, now." Brian notes. "A Mr.Larson is heading up the project." He informs for no particular reason as he bounds down the stairs with his band of merry kids. He hesitates at the bottom as they all come down.
His hand comes up and lands on Bai-Chan's head affectionately. Giving him a little rub-rub. Going-away party? Brian blinks over at that. "Well, you are all welcome to visit. We can have a party then, but I was hoping to get moved in and settled before night time." Brian offers, tilting his head weakly. Bai-chan is given a gentle nudge towards the door as the kids file out. "Lucy, come on."
Delilah waits just by the door now, watching the kids gather(and hide), and the adults mill around in different stages of responsibility. For now, she flattens her palms on the front of her skirt and waits until the kids are either ready to go- or the adults are ready to do something else. She's really not very sure of where this is all going, aside from that some of the kids aren't seeming as excited as they could be. Maybe they're afraid to go back? So, Delilah tries a bit of truthful and soft-spoken sweet-talk.
"Just so you kids know it too- that bad man is gone. Once the lighthouse gets fixed, it's staying that way."
There's a bag of groceries in her arms all of a sudden. Gillian did ask for it, though she looks up over the wrapped bread and stares quietly at Gabriel for a long moment. It's been some time since she'd seen him, and there's things that she needs to say or— something. It's not going to happen now, though. Not right now. Not with everyone and their brother (or at least her brother) here. "We have different last names because we were adopted into different families," she explains after looking back at Dee, snapping out of it finally. Oh god. Did Brian know Gabriel? She spends a few moments trying her best to recall, and hoping they didn't just blow something up, until she looks back at him and adds, for his benifit, a rather awkwardly phrased, "Um— Brian is my brother. The real one…" There's a lot of tension in the way she breaths and stands. This isn't what she came to do at all. "I don't think we're staying…" she adds to Lucrezia as she starts to move around to where Deckard disappeared to with her bag of groceries.
A glance is hazarded to Deckard, a rapid blink given towards the older man's retreating back, then sharp focus on Brian once more, impatience in the set of Gabriel's jaw over information he knows, even over the information he doesn't. All things considered, Gabriel would like nothing more than to shuffle off into the kitchen, put everything away, and find a room to sequester himself until the tide of people has passed, but—
"Bai-Chan." His voice is light but holds authority, intending to get the little boy's attention out from the flow of children heading for the door. Gabriel sets both grocery bags into one hand as that he might hold out the other for the child. "Lai wo zheir," is the brisk request, in halting but adequate Mandarin, and Bai-Chan pauses, glances up towards Brian with uncertainty as he doesn't seem to want to disobey either of them, but otherwise starts to move as ordered unless otherwise told not to. Gabriel's gaze moves back towards Brian, and states, somewhat coldly as if to negate any argument that could come from the other man, "This one lives here. I thought you knew that."
Play for the pout. Lucrezia's lips fold into a rather exaggerated statement of sadness before returning to an even equilibrium just this side of pleasantly pleased at something unspoken. The butt of the black-papered cigarette previously clutched between two fingers is dipped back into her mouth and remains there so that she might offer little Lucy both hands to be clasped and begin to sidle together down the stairs like penguins, shifting her weight from one foot to the next while towing the girl behind her as if they were puppets joined together on the horizontal instead of the vertical. It's… really rather comical, actually.
The Italian woman's eyes, however, are fixed on the interaction taking play between Bai-Chan — a boy who is so much his father's son, whether he realizes it or not — and the man who still may very well one day take his place. For whatever the future might have been, some things seem destined to remain the same.
Instinctively, Brian's hand goes out to close around Bai-Chan's shoulder. "Mihao." Is blurted out, one of the only Chinese words he knows. Though he loses the fact that this was one of the only words in Chinese that the other Brian knew as well. Looking at Gabriel, Brian glances at Gillian as if for help. Halp!
"He stayed at the lighthouse." Brian argues, on shaky ground. Not really knowing what he's arguing. He knows for a fact that Bai-Chan stayed at the Lighthouse. So what is this guy talking about? Looking down at Bai-Chan he gives a frown. He glances back to Gillian again, looking a tad confused. Then back to Gabriel. Gillian halp!
Instinctively, Brian's hand goes out to close around Bai-Chan's shoulder. "Mihao." Is blurted out, one of the only Chinese words he knows. Though he loses the fact that this was one of the only words in Chinese that the other Brian knew as well. Looking at Gabriel, Brian glances at Gillian as if for help. Halp!
"He stayed at the lighthouse." Brian argues, on shaky ground. Not really knowing what he's arguing. He knows for a fact that Bai-Chan stayed at the Lighthouse. So what is this guy talking about? Looking down at Bai-Chan he gives a frown. He glances back to Gillian again, looking a tad confused. Then back to Gabriel. Gillian halp!
While the others might linger in the kitchen, Gillian just drops off her bag, makes a comment, "I'm sure you know where the fuck this stuff is supposed to go," before she walks back out into the main area after smiling at Lucrezia as she gets back. If it were just HER she might stay for a party… but with Gabriel there — Is Peter somehow there too? — she doesn't really want to stay long. Not with everyone else around.
She did make it back out in time to see part of the exchange between Gabriel and Brian. "What?" then a moment later she looks at the kid, focuses a bit. "Oh— That's Bai-Chan, isn't it?" She'd heard brief mentions of him, but honestly barely saw him except in passing. "Yeah— he stays here. He was out of the Lighthouse before the attack."
With a few more measures of loyalty to Brian in him than to Gabriel, Bai-Chan halts as soon as Brian's hand comes down onto his shoulder, and otherwise pulls a face of discontent, and folds his skinny arms. Most of the conversation flies over his head, or at least, he pretends it does, and shifts his weight restlessly from foot to foot. Meanwhile, Gabriel is glaring at Brian, although it lessens when Gillian comes in with the assist a little, casting her a fleeting look and rolling his shoulders as if to relax himself.
Putting people through walls isn't always the best way to get what you want. He's had months to learn this. "He has a home with us," Gabriel says. His hand for Bai-Chan hasn't dropped. "Your Lighthouse is for kids that otherwise don't." Unhand the Chinaboy!
"Don't argue over him like a toy," Lucrezia chides mildly. She isn't a mother by technicality but she's played one on the big screen and just so happened to raise one of the world's most misguided terrorists who sorted out to be something of a sociopath with an additional decade's worth of abrupt neglect, so… clearly any advice that she has to dispense ought to be heeded either immediately or NEVER. "Ask the boy what he wants."
When she says this, the Sicilian starlet is looking not at either of the men preparing to play tug-o-war with the unlucky Asian buy so much as she is acknowledging Bai-Chan himself; perhaps expectantly waiting for an answer to the question she only insinuated asking, both brows lifted.
And, yet, this moment comes and goes swiftly. Lucrezia doesn't stay longer enough to hear the answer — or any objection — if there is any. She's off into the kitchen, presumably to put out her cigarette in something that might have water in it and sniff at the man who smelled like he might have bathed in some booze just prior to his arrival. Deckard. Poor bastard.
"I'm aware of that." Brian says, a tad defensively. Of course he was aware of that. He is the lighthouse owner. He knows when kids leave! "Yeah. But he's coming back now." Brian says, sternly. "The Lighthouse is completely safe and.." He motions to the other kids. "He had a home with.." Hm. That's a compelling argument.
Glancing over at Lucrezi Brian just hesitates for a moment. Hopefully he's put up enough of a fight that it seems like he's still regular Brian. Going down into a crouch, Brian looks at the boy in the eyes. Taking his shoulder in one hand he gives it a squeeze before wrapping the kid in a quick hug before releasing him. Nodding over to Gabriel he goes to stand.
"Do I have to cut him in half? I know the trick." If only Delilah had a stage, supplies, and a beautiful assistant too! This comes out a bit after Lucrezia's option, but just before Brian seems to secede. "A home is a home is a home. Right, Bai-chan?" She's pretty sure he understands her, so she glances at the room once and dusts invisible bunnies from her skirt, scoffing. "We'll all still see him, anyway. It's not like he's being sent to Mars to go to school
"The kids'll still be able to see each other— yeah," Gillian offers, but considering those who are here, it would be a miracle if she didn't look nervous. At least Lucrezia's idea seems to have solved the situation. Better than cutting the kid in half, which would just be unpleasant for all involved.
She looks back at Gabriel for a hesitant moment, as if she wants to say something, but never makes it past opening her mouth a few times. Eventually words do come out, though perhaps not what she intended to say. "Are you staying here for a while?"
If it were possible to bristle visibly, Lucrezia's input might have induced such a thing from the former serial killer, turning to snap at her just as the ex-starlette is bustling out towards the kitchen. Gabriel closes his mouth instead, swinging a look back towards the situation— which seems to be resolved, watching with hawkish intensity as Brian embraces the child and manifests permission in a nod. Gabriel gives a twitch of a false smile, before repeating his order from before.
"Lai wo zheir."
It's a misplaced sense of possessiveness, temporal displacement and irrational. It's not as though he desires to be this kid's father, likely releasing the child's hand and ignoring him for the rest of the day once Brian is gone. It's not as though potentially being so in a future that no longer exists gives him a voice of authority— but Gabriel certainly believes it entitles him!
"Maybe," Gabriel tells Gillian, voice utterly noncommittal and more looking through her than at her as he goes to step around and finally drop off the last of the groceries into the kitchen, before pausing and looking towards Delilah. "I'm sorry, who are you?" This comes out more impatient than polite— she is bizarrely familiar, and without a supermemory at his beck and call, he feels the need to at least temporarily solve the mystery.
Glancing up at Gillian, Brian gives another glance to Bai-Chan before he starts herding his little crew of children and pubescents out the door. Looking over at Gillian, Winters watches her for a moment before calling out. "You coming to the van, Gilli?" Reminding her as to what they were doing and why they came here in the first place, he gives a gesture to the door. "We've got everyone here. We've got another stop to make before we can get back on the boat."
Perhaps out of habit, perhaps out of intuition, or maybe because there's something thickening her breathing air, Delilah moves a bit closer to Gillian as the matter is supposedly settled on the boy, and Gabriel drops off the last bit of groceries around the corner. By the time he comes back to inquire at her about her, she is back to the spot she had when she came in- hovering somewhere beside Gillian.
"Oh-" She blinks and looks up at Gabriel's eyebrows, seeming a bit off-balance by the question. "-right." She jaunts a thumb towards the kitchen door. "Deckard in there probably just calls me The Ginger Bitch Who Kicked His Ass. But you can call me Delilah."
There's a flash of frustration in her eyes, follows by something else as well. But Dee might be the only one who can recognize that something about this situation is hurting her a bit. Gillian waves a hand between the tall redhead girl and the tall fuzzy man, "Dee, this is Gabriel— Yeah, Brian, I'm on my way." She leaves out the fact that he's her ex. Sort of. As much as one could say they something in the past, they most certainly are ex-something now.
She moves around Dee to get to the door, making sure the kids are going out too. Whether Gabriel will be here later or not may have to be deteremined… later. When there aren't kids to pile into a van and take somewhere else— a temporary location until they can come up with another one.
Despite demanding an introduction, Gabriel's focus shifts easily, watching Gillian make for out while she isn't looking to see him do so. For as much as he'd been intently ignoring her, it's made up for within the last few seconds of her departure, until he's back to the resident redhead. A look up and down, and though her name rings no bells, his mouth twists into a distant smile. Ah ha. "It's nice to meet you," he offers, and leaves it at that— at least for the time being— before steering Bai-Chan out of the room and further inwards of the cottage, following the pattern of the dispersing crowd.
"Delilah!" Brian scorns harshly, his hands flinging out to cover kids ears. But as there are multiple kids around, and Brian only has two arms. He ends up just slapping two different kids in the side of the head. Well on the ear, but still. Grimacing he quickly goes to apologize to both children, before ushering them out the door. "Language." He reminds, gesturing at the kiddies walking out.
"It was a pleasure, Gabriel." Brian manages, Gillian, he, and the children make their way out to the van. Opening it up he helps each kid get buckled in and ready to leave before sliding into the drivers seat.
"Nice to meet you too." I guess? Delilah blinks at Brian when she gets scolded. What? Fff. She follows Brian and the kids out of the door, waving a hand to whoever may be left in the front of the safehouse. When she gets out, it is time to help the others get the kids strapped into the van and get ready to once again tag along to another house.