Time Lost Is Just That


abby5_icon.gif dajan_icon.gif huruma_icon.gif

Scene Title Time Lost Is Just That
Synopsis Over Skype, Huruma introduces Abigail to her son and shares one family with another.
Date January 4, 2010

On a Skype call between New York and Madagascar


What in the blue blazes is Skype?

Abigail found out soon enough after Huruma had sent an email with a time, information and what she needed Abigail to do. After everything that had gone through on the news and with the gossip that floated through the city about the news and the like, the brunette was sure as the sun rises, going to get one of the girls downstairs to help her.

Which included getting the camera set up which she never used and the microphone and headset picked up and put into play as well. Abigail + technology do not mix well.

Five o'clock rolls around and the brunette is parked at her laptop in the comfort of her livingroom, foot propped up on pillows on the couch, pizza on a plate and the TV on to a movie but volume low.

The News has had such a weekend that it could start to get muddled; the most truthful reports come around the new year, while the longer it goes the more people offer assumptions, guesses, gossip- the usual. Madagascar has been in the spotlight out of the blue, so of course it has been a steady stream. Sunday brought sunday papers, Monday afternoon brings magazines and weeklong papers. The blogosphere and the internet as a whole are just as boiling. Somewhere in there, however, Huruma's satellite linkup wriggles through, and right on time Skype's action box comes up with a delighted *bwing*!

It is late at night on the island, but many of the MLF and various people in the capital with the armies are still awake. Some out of paranoia. Huruma has homed up in one of the small manors remaining with her family; Dajan heartily refused to stay in Rasoul's palace, and nobody blamed him. But even he knew the need for security, so that is why Huruma's surroundings carry a rather finely detailed and higher-class air. Somehow, she's found time to be alone before this- luck, maybe. But late night brings some background noise of others in the house moving about in preparation for sleep.

Huruma, when the connection finally goes through, immediately appears worse for wear; some stitching on her neck, underlying bruising on her upper arm around a patched knifewound, darkness under her eyes. But her eyes are still the same, physically; emotionally, they give off the look of someone tired- but happy about it.

All Huruma see's in Abigail's chin and the plate of pizza - ham and pineapple with some mushrooms - in the field of view. But blue eyes widen at the sight of her bouncer way over on the other end of the world. "I will thank the good lord above that you are very much alive Huruma. You are a sight for sore eyes!" The plate is put to the side and she shifts in spot which only brings her nose now into view but no higher.

"Are you safe? How is it really over there? Everyone else?" She hadn't know Huruma was going to madagascar till the email telling her so.

Instead of offering up a real answer to anything, the dark woman lit on the other end of the line motions with a hand, upward. That hand has a thin bandage wrapped around it. She laughs, once, a smile curving on her face. "Abigail, th'camera is too low. Tha'pizza looks tasty, but I'd rather see your whole face." Huruma casts a glance over her shoulder at a light that flickers on somewhere behind where she sits at an apparent desk-space.

"I am safe. Rasoul is gone f'good." She'd be the one to know. "But now, there is much more t'do b'fore this country feels safe. Most of my …team- they will be okay. We lost some, gained some- but last I heard they were recuperating well." Huruma peers across to the camera, blindly searching for some vague eye contact. "You?"

'Really?" She should have realized that, at some point. But she shifts again, a hand interrupting the view as Abigail reaches up to adjust the webcam till eventually Abigail replete with brown hair and the cat that lounges behind her comes into view. Hale, healthy, no marks or scratches. She's been home long enough though, since Christmas day. "You done look like you went through a war" She tells the woman across the camera, the microphone hooked around her ear and within range of her mouth.

"I'm good, nothing that won't heal up given time. Wasn't all peaches and cream in Russia but it's nothing like what we've heard coming outta your corner of the world and all" She points out. "We didn't loose anyone, didn't gain anyone either"

She gives Huruma an honest smile. "And hey, I got a letter from the president" She reaches over, camera jostling as she picks it up and waggles it. "I don't have to pay income tax till the day I die. Neither does the bar. Their thanks for the always being co-operative with them and doing what's asked" Not that they asked her to go to Russia themselves.

"I did. Again." Go through a war. Huruma is able to lean back when Abby fixes the camera, sitting in her chair with as much relaxation as she can muster right now. "This corner of th'world is literally on fire." Her eyebrows raise, then follow the course of the wagging paper over the screen. "I wonder what I'll b'getting. Am agent tranq'd me an'I woke up en route t'th'carrier. Perhaps I've squared with someone. All that I want now is a bit of peace and quiet. If they d'no'come back for more help." She smiles almost jauntily, implying greatly that she would help further if Kershner showed up on the front step. There isn't much she needs otherwise, right now. Not anymore.

"I like y'hair, Abigail." Huruma's voice lowers slightly, but part of it still sounds pleased. It's not at Abby- just- in general, for some reason not too clear to the girl yet.

"Welll, you know, it was pink before but when the Vanguard aim's for you first on a Russian street, it sorta screams 'target' you know. So Raquelle fixed it when I came home. I Miss the pink. Sometime, I'll go back to it but not right now. Not till I do some things that I gotta do first. Just a second, let me fix the computer my lap is getting hot" And there's movement again, the apartment whirling in the wake of the movement, showing the apartment with it's moss green walls that Huruma knows well enough. If she can get past the hopping that the camera seems to take and then the inevitable thunk as it falls down and all Hurma see's is the feet of furniture and hears a curse from the former healer.

And a plaster encased foot. "Just a second Huruma, Teo's not here to help me, lord on high I shoulda stayed on the couch" Through it all, Abigail keeps up a stream of talking while getting resettled at the kitchen table about the bar and how its' going, Thalia's taking care of it all, the recent fights and new employee's.

Eventually though, there's Abby back in view and smiling. "Maybe you'll get some peace and quiet. You know how you can make sure you get some peace and quiet" She points out.'

Huruma is quiet while Abby is shuffling around, and the screen is generally a whirling pool of colors and shapes- green, door, green, furniture, green- and then it falls awkwardly and gives Huruma a nice view of the floor, and Abby's plastered foot. The woman lets out a small laugh again, the sound drawling out of the speakers. "You need t'make him vacuum."

"I know, I know." Huruma replies passively when the Caucasian girl on the screen again goes into the finer details of getting some quiet time. On Huruma's end, Abby gets a better view of the room as a lamp behind the computer gets flicked on with an outstretched hand. "Some of th'noise is very much worth it."

From behind Huruma and very far off camera, a voice joins hers coming over the audio. "Mother," it's a firm, strong sounding voice, easily mistaken for something European, but a trained ear recognizes it as South African, "have you seen grandmother and m'boy? They went out to see how Tau was doing with the chur— " his voice hesitates, some scuffing bootfalls heard. "What are you doing?"

"I think I need to hire someone to come clean here really. but if I did, my momma'd done come up and here and grab me by the ear, put a brush in my hand and remind me that I still got two good hand to wash the floor with. I'm just being lazy. A broken ankle is no excuse really. I figure tomorrow i'll get around to-"

Abigail cuts off not so much at the sound of Dajan and that another person has entered into the room that Huruma is occupying. It's the words from Dajan's mouth that still the brunette on the other end and try to peer beyond Huruma as if she were right there herself. She even cranes her head, willing the camera to turn with her head.

There is now stillness and silence from Abigail's end.

Huruma can see Abby leaning around on the screen out of the corners of her eyes, but her gaze is fixed over the top of the camera, blinking to attention there. She knows that his choice of words has literally stopped Abigail right in her tracks- this wasn't the way she was supposed to start explaining him. But it can be forgiven, as you mom talking to a previously inanimate object is a bit …new. He'll figure it out in a second- the webcam is clipped there onto the top, and lenses are easy to recognize.

Huruma does flinch in the face a bit, in the end. "I haven't seen them." Her arm bends, cheek resting over the top of her fingers with eyes still not returning to Abby. "I am Skyping." She makes it sound like the newest craze, with that quirk of her eyebrow included.

"Scraping?" Dajan parrots back incorrectly as he squints, walking over to the computer and leaning down in over Huruma's shoulder to scrutinize the diabolical machine. The face that comes into view is both part chiseled stone in its high cheekbones and strong jaw, but also broken sculpture in the horrible scarring across the entire right sie of his face, scarred and white eye, and the very familiar scar across his mouth that he shares in common with Teodoro Laudani.

"Who is this white girl?" Dajan asks with a squint, pointing to the screen as if she can't hear him. Very good, Dajan, very good.
[OOC] Bao-Wei rolllls

Abigail will confess that it sounds like some sort of deviant sexual act. Not something innocent. Okay, wait, Skyping COULD be used in some deviant sexual act. Brenda's probably used it for some… Okay. But in this case, it's just her, looking at the camera with eyes up, brows furrowed.

She pulls back a bit as Dajan comes in view, eyes tracking across the screen and the finger pointing. She's mildly surprised by the state of his face but she's seen just as bad, if not worse. She healed worse and if he was near her and she still had that gift, she'd be offering to fix him.

"The white girl is Abigail" She speaks into the microphone, arms folded across the table and head quirked to the side. "I'm a friend of your mothers" Her boss and surrogate wayward cub to be nosed and prodded back into line now and then.

Huruma's other hand lifts up to draw back the pointing finger, face tilting over to her son in the process. Abby, thankfully, introduces herself and catches on at the same time. Huruma finishes flourishing her hand around when she finally gestures to the camera for him, sitting like a little eye on the top edge of the computer.

"I work at her bar, back in New York." There comes a further explanation, though the wayward cub part is unsaid; then again, the fact that they are close enough to be in contact like this could allude to it. "This is m'son-" She looks at him again, his closeness, as often with strangers that come right up to her, does not send her edginess up. "-Dajan. Dajan, Abby."

"Ah it's…" Dajan grimaces, too many teeth showing on the right side of that expression, "internet." Dajan grimaces, eyeing the cabling coming out of the computer and considering the portable satellite dish he saw on the way in. "It— " he pauses, eyeing Huruma, "you work at a bar?" The disbelieving squint is only brief, before he looks back to Abigail on the screen and offers a more honest smile, remembering his manners.

"It is a pleasure t'meet a friend of mother's, miss Abby." He's so very well-behaved, despite his somewhat ghoulish scarring. "Has news of what happened here reached the States? A' have not heard much news, it is very busy here, no time for a man t'sleep or think of things such."

"A pleasure to meet Huruma's son. I've long wondered whether she had anyone and now I have the answer even if I think you ruined the surprise she was calling me about. If it's any consolation, I don't much care for the internet either. I like good old fashioned pen and paper to send stuff to people but sometime, you have to get with the times yes?" Abgiail grins wide, flashing her own teeth. All her own teeth.

"She's a bouncer, and a very good friend. Always there when I need help in any sort of way. She helped me through a particularly terrible time, showed me what to expect and when I needed a bit of an emotional… helping hand, she did that too. I look forward to seeing her if she returns" If. The woman has family and she can see the slight change in the woman's demeanor. Abigail wouldn't be surprised if Huruma chose to say. Saddened, but not unhappy because family is everything.

Dajan asks about the news though of what happened in madagascar which prompts Abigail to nod. "Yup. All over the news, the New York time did a special piece" Abigail dips out of view for a moment, more of those soft thuds - and her jabbering on about what the news is saying as her voice quiets because of distance then picks back up in volume when she hops back into view with a newspaper in hand. As she unfolds it, there's a pause and then a glance back to the screen. A smile followed by a laugh. "Figures."

She turns the paper around and holds it back far enough for the two to see the article and point's out Dajan's name in the text. "You're name is on the lips and minds of many a New Yorker here. I knew somewhat of madagascar because I was with the team that went to Russia. I got hurt though and frankly, my skills are not what would have been beneficial out there. More a hindrance than help"

At that disbelief, Huruma crooks her lips up. The expression cements there as Abigail gives her a welcome reference; it's not an interview, by far, but Huruma can use all the backup that she can get. The woman meets the camera with her eyes upon the question of 'If'. The look does show that it has been constantly on her mind, though nothing is actually stated on the matter.

"Here I thought all tha'th'news over there had t'do with which celebrity cheated on his wife." Huruma sounds dubious at best, mostly out of wondering how long Madagascar will be on the lips and minds of the American- the world- people. "I wonder if this means we shall have t'field journalists and th'army occupation." Sigh. Journalists.

"It is good to know that Madagascar does not suffer in ignorance." Daja admits with a hesitant smile, "the world should know what happened here." As much as what happened in Madagascar could ever truly be shared to the world at large. "Miss Abby," Dajan adds, his brows forrowed, "Even a flower can be of use, when guns and knives fail. Everything has a reason an' a purpose, I would not sell yourself so short." Offering Huruma a mild smile, Dajan leans away from the computer and rests his hands on his hips.

"I am sorry t'make our meeting short, but I must go see where my son has wandered off to, and pray that Etana is not filling his head with all sorts of nonsense." There's a smile offered to the camera, and Dajan turn shis head to favor his left side when he does. "It was a pleasure meetin' you, Miss Abby. It is good to know mother has friends…" and that she isn't always alone.

"Something else will come along in a few days. You and I both know that" It took a few days before they left Abigail alone. "Just sit near them and say boo, I'm sure they'll take off. Though maybe having some there will be a blessing and not a hindrance" She points out to the black woman as she straightens up, paper put to the side.

"It's good to know that she has Family as well Mr. Dajan. Given your son a hug for me and be well, please" His words making her blush. Good for kidnapping maybe. But then, well, she had taken care of everyone when they'd been shot up. Frankly Francois could have don- nope, he was stone then. "She has friends. Even if she doesn't know it at times. I'm really quite jealous I'm missing her something fierce. Go find your son. I don't need to be hearing apologies from you about things like that" Abigail makes shooing motions with her hands, grinning still.

"Better her nonsense than someone else's." Huruma glances back at Dajan, past her shoulder. Though now Abigail, on the other hand, has her sitting up straighter- she would be blushing a little herself if she really had that kind of capacity. "I am sure you two will have another shot at communicating sometime. Go find Badrani." Her grandson's name, incidentally, rolls off of her tongue smoothly. Is it odd that she likes to say it? Perhaps not, when you think about it. Huruma says it over again in her thoughts, looking momentarily bewildered from it. It has been weeks since finding Dajan, and only days since both Etana and Badrani.

She will get used to it all, eventually.

Off-camera, Dajan looks down to Huruma with both brows raised, a fond smile on his face as if to say keep that one close, before he wordlessly slips out just as he had walked in, the red cloth of the scarf he has wound around his missing arm stump contrasting bright in her periphery against dark skin. He has worn it since the fall of Antananarivo, a crimson cloth around the arm he gave to his country, red for the blood of all his fallen comrades. He says he will never remove it until the day Madagascar takes him back into her soil.

Sure, Abigail can't see when Dajan really leaves other than the signs in Huruma's face when she refocuses her attention back on Abigail. "Grandson huh? You're getting old" There's a grin, still as she slouches a bit, getting more comfortable. "You have your family Huruma. That's good. I think you needed that. Maybe when things have settled down, they can come for a visit, you all can come for a visit yes?" She's not placing her bets on the woman ever leaving. Abby wouldn't.

When Abby says she is getting old, Huruma levels the camera with a glare- if only she could reach through the internet. "I am not that old. I-" She tries to form something reasonable, glancing off to the room to her left. "I am a young grandmother. Was a young mother. I only found him again- just- weeks ago, now. Almost a month. He was th'leader of th'cell tha'our team was t'meet." She is able to recite this only because she needs to. For Abby, but also so that she can hear herself say it. The experience has been very therapeutic.

"He hated me jus'last month. Now I'ave, well… much more than I deserve. But there is only so much I can do immediately, so I'ave no'decided where t'go from here. Part of me wants t'get them all out of this place. Until what is done is done. Compared to it, New York is paradise."

"Huruma" Abigail doens't know Huruma's last name for all that she actually pays the woman. "You deserve FAR more than you think you do." She levers a brow up but listens to the story unfold and the near fairytale of it all. Mother and son re-united, one hating the other but then look at them now. What she saw on the screen wasn't hate.

"I don't think, from the sounds of it, that your Dajan would want to leave Huruma" If he was leading the cell to liberate his people from General Rasoul. Abigail lifts a hand to rub at the back of her neck and shake her head. "If you choose to stay, well then, I guess I'll just have to come visit you and your family there at some point when I'm done my schooling" What kind of shots would you need for Madagascar.

Huruma isn't even sure she has one, if someone were to ask. Her parents did- but- they are nowhere near, nor does she wish to ever have them so. "I do no'think so either." Not forever, anyway. That doesn't mean she can't try go persuade them overseas for a length of time, right?

"Like I said, there is only so much that I can do now. I want to be around- but at th'same time, I know that I cannot make up decades in a few weeks' time. I'd run myself raw." So which means if Huruma goes back home, she goes back with the tie to her family intact anyway. The world has gotten smaller- as evident by this conversation, in fact. Relatives can live all over the world now, and still see one another every day if they so wished.

Which is ABby's train of thought. "There's always Skype" She grins. "And you can always use my laptop to do it here at the bar" There's a deep inhale then soft exhale and she looks over at the sound of a knock at the door. "I should be going, sounds like there's someone at the door. Don't try to make up for lost time. you can't, that's why it's called Lost time. You can only deal with the time from her onwards and make the most of it"

Huruma's head cants at Abby's words, taking them in and planning to adopt them as soon as is practical. The look on her features lets Abby know that she's struck a chord- exactly what she wanted to say, but could not properly form. Like a wise warthog once said, you've got to put your behind- in your past. Well, something like that. "Thank you, Abigail."

"I hope tha'we can talk again soon- per'aps you can meet th'rest." Badrani, as he is preschool age, will surely be thrilled with the internet. Dajan didn't seem too keen, but he'll be getting a crash course too.

"I know a teleporter. Maybe if I pay him enough he'll pop me in for a visit after I go to Mexico. Can meet your family proper without the pesky needs for Visa's and borders and the like yes?" She didn't know whether Elias would actually do it and she didn't want to seem like she was taking advantage of his amazing ability. "If I wasn't hurt Huruma, i'd be there, you know that right? I'd have asked Ms. Kershner to take me with them. But… " But ethan fucked her ankle up and she needed to deal with Flint.

"Don'worry too much about it." Huruma's hand makes a gesture of passive assurance on the screen. "You likely need peace an'quiet too, don't you? Don'globetrot on a bad ankle or a bad mood." Experience, maybe. Huh. "Though if you've got a teleporter handy when things are looking less …hectic- you will be welcome here."

Huruma knows Abigial too well. "Probably do. Be good to finish school but i have to wait another month before I pick up where I left. I'm sure if I show my super special thank you from the president they'll have no issue pardoning the fee's but I don't think they have the clearance" There's a soft laugh at that. "When it's fixed, if you're not back, i'll see about what my friend can do." There's the knock again and the familiar voice of one of the bartenders and Abigail starts to rise. "Life of running a bar, it's never quiet huh. Take care Huruma" She trots - hops - out of view to collect crutches neglecting to turn off the camera or the skype session. Ahhh technology..

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