Twilight Hour


adam_icon.gif huruma_icon.gif

Scene Title Twilight Hour
Synopsis Knowing an immortal is as much a task as being one happens to be.
Date June 2, 2010


Originally associated with the arts, and later famous for both being a destination for shopping and its downtown scene, SoHo has changed drasticly since the bomb. The evacuation of SoHo after the bomb, due to its position in the path of the fallout caused as much chaos and hysteria as the bomb itself did. The damage done to the district in that upheaval alone never truly went away. Only finally reopened to the public on New Years day in 2008, SoHo has been struggling to reclaim itself in the time since. The vast majority of the neighborhood suffered as much of New York did from fires caused both by the bomb itself and arson-related incidents.

The reclimation process for SoHo has been slow going. Portions of the northern edge of the neighborhood were remarkably damaged by debris from the initial blast of the bomb, and even more were gutted by fires. The worst of the lot remain behind the one-story high concrete barricades that divide SoHo from the ruins of midtown, accessed only by Department of Homeland Security checkpoints reinforced by the presence of the national guard.

The fear of ratiation from the fallout has also kept many out of SoHo, even after its reopening. While SoHo had become fairly commercialized, much of that business closed and moved on in steady economic collapse that engulfed the city. Yet, the southern part of the neighborhood, along Grand Street and Canal Street, retains some of the feel of SoHo's earlier days, with a handful of small business struggling to remain open despite the rising cost of living.

Even with the melting snow of the day, nighttime brings whatever promise that it held to a standstill- snow to water, water to ice- thick layers of dark, slippery crust over everything that just happened to have water on it. Now, during the twilight hour, the evening sun is ducking down over the far horizon and allowing the warmth to seep out of the water. Puddles and streams in gutters glaze over with thin layers of ice, while the crews working to clean the place up begin to pack up for the night and return home. As such, city backhoes and plows can be seen brought to idle on every other street.

Cleanup is a work in progress.

Soho, being one of the districts to border midtown, is often deserted on one end; the majority of plows have been elsewhere, leaving an impeccably noticeable divider between the lived-in and the not. It is here that Huruma finds herself, strolling a sidewalk bordering the snowbound portion of SoHo. The impact of the state of the place is clear on the faces of boarded windows of boutiques, and the seemingly rogue lamplights of the sparse population.

Adam is laying in the snow, using a large pile of snow as a type of lounge chair. He's smoking a cigarette in one hand and holding a beer in the other. He's got it dug into the snow to keep it cold. After a moment, he looks up and says, "Hallo, Huruma. Nice night, yeah?" he pauses, "Not as cold as Ontario in the winter, but it'll do."

When she spots him, Huruma pauses before her next step, absorbing the few seconds of absurdity before moving along to hover closer, hands buried in her pockets and her chin tucked into the wrappings of a blood red pashmina scarf. It contrasts equally absurdly with her dark coat.

"Better than it had been. I still hate winter." Her cheekbones visibly grate when her teeth do, mild irritation making way for a bird-like tilt of her head towards Adam. "You might freeze t'tha'seat, you know. If th'temperature drops." She is exaggerating. Mostly.

Adam shrugs, "I'll get better." he responds and takes a sip of his cold beer and then a slow drag of the cigarette. "I ran into Magnes. He wants me to turn him into batman. Buy him a bat cave and a bat car and whatever else it is batman gets so he can go fight crime." he chuckles at the absurdity of it, "I'm considering it. It'll be interesting if he does get arrested or something. I don't know his odds of getting arrested though." he considers, "He's not a very smart lad. Bit of a man slut though. He jumps from girl to girl like I jump from marriages."

Huruma's brows lift at the mention of Magnes, lowering into a knot again when Adam actually describes what happened. The woman lets out a snort, moving closer and deciding to put herself down on the bank of snow beside him, taking care to at least sit on the lower half of her coat. Her gloved hands settle her there, and it seems as if it really is not as bad as she had thought. Her eyes trail over the edges of the icy mound, though it is not clear why.

"Arrest odds are high, felony charge odds are low. But- I know tha'he would do it." Huruma finally replies, voice loosening from its stiffness. Her eyes dart towards Adam. "He really is. Quite sad, especially when he seems t'look twice at me." It's probably happened, once or twice. A few times.

Adam lifts a bottle, "There was Abby, then there was that girl who's name begins with a D…and then that blonde girl, yeah? Now it's some redhead." he shakes his head, "Soap opera, that kid." he tsks. He shrugs, "But, who knows, it'll be like a social experiment." he pauses, "I quit, you see. I'm not interested in all this war. Let the world go to Hell. Or not, I don't care." he takes a sip of beer, "I'm trying to figure out what to do."

"I have a hand in where th'wind moves me. I always'ave." Huruma lids her eyes, melting into the snow a few centimeters while she is there. "Took me t'Madagascar wit'Apollo, 'ad fun cleaning up Volken's mess- after that- very little, until of late. An old acquaintance tracked m'down, a few weeks ago. Asked for m'hand in his little brigade. He hopes to make a splash, sooner rather than later." During this, her hand finds the one end of her scarf, unfurling the end from her buttons and running the fabric between her long fingers.

"My purpose is no'so much purpose, as it is th'pleasure I get from what I am tasking myself with."

Adam arches a brow, "What's this brigade about then?"

"Total war." Huruma offers simplicity, amongst fluff. "Against this government, technically- but essentially- us versus them. I am curious t'see where it leads. If it leads at all."

Adam frowns a bit, "Total war." he tsks a bit, "This will lead to nothing. There'll be some big fight, people getting dignified. Phoenix will hem and haw and eventually things will go back to normal. It's pointless." he raises his beer, "I don't know how I feel about you getting involved in that nonsense. But at least blow something up if you're going to try and overthrow the government. What's this bloke do?" he asks, "Turn into fire? We've had the other elements."

"It is not him tha'turns into fire." Huruma does not clarify further than that on that matter. "He is more subtle. Persuasion, of a sort. That is what he calls it, but I think that it is something else." One long leg moves over the other, bent knee hanging her boot in the air. "They'ave a good lot of PARIAH with them, supposedly. What was left, an'now, old faces."

"So, they are bound t'not be as subtle as their benefactor may be. If I'ave th'skills I do an'let them rot- it displeases me." Huruma knows that she is what she is for a reason- evolved or not, she's worth her salt. "And if it does no'pan out, this bunch, this 'Messiah'- I can always fall back on bothering m'old rivals. Like Danko. Or, Agent Ryans." Now that is a name Adam should know, provided he stops to think. Benjamin has been with the Company for far too long to not be remembered.

Adam mehs and shrugs his shoulder, "Messiah." he snorts a bit, "Everyone in this city is so pretentious." his lips purse a moment and then says, "Pariah, Phoenix, Messiah, Humanis First A bit ridiculous if you ask me." he raises his bottle, "Maybe I'll be car salesman. I think I'd be good at that."
"Pretentious, possibly effective. We shall see. Though if New York turns over a leaf that I cannot fit under, I will always'ave a place in Madagascar." Dajan would likely be torn about it. He learned to like his mother, but having her there all the time…?

"Th'only ones t'seem t'be able t'do much of anything are th'ones t'go unnoted. Th'Ferry does their job well, however m'experiences with them have been distant at best. Would you sell Japanese cars?" Hey. It's a perfectly reasonable question.

Adam shrugs, "I don't think I'd make a good care salesman." he says, entirely contradicting his previous statement, "Too much.." he thinks for the right word, "Too much undercoating." he takes another drink of his beer, mentioning, "This beer tastes nothing like cherries." there's another pause, "Perhaps I'll be a teacher."

"Speaking of cherries, Lucy's burnt down."

Huruma opens her mouth again after he muses on the teacher role, presumably to say something coarse, only to pause and close her lips, thinking. "History, I suppose?" Her mouth curls up, amused as she looks at him. "You don'much adore children- older students, surely." The thought of Adam in a setting where he has to teach what he lived tickles her somewhat.

Adam huhs, "Really, in all this snow? There's irony somewhere, I know it." he pauses, "I'd make a horrible teacher, I can't abide stupidity. I'd burn my class alive before mid terms." he puts out his cigarette. He pauses, "Maybe I'll try and exploit teenage vapidity. I'm told this twilight craze is pretty profitable. I have a pin around here somewhere.." he roots around his jacket.

"You are right. There is." Huruma does not elaborate on that either, perhaps out of duty to be able to keep a secret or three. She squints a moment over at Adam next, leaning over puzzled as he digs around on his person. "…What are you talking about? Twilight?" Pins? Teenage vapidity? She cannot argue for or against if she has no idea what he is on about, so her curiosity is piqued.

Adam pulls out a pin that says Team Jacob, "Apparently this makes me part of a gang. I am required, by the powers of this pin, to snear at anyone named Edward, because he's a poofter and not very nice to someone named Kristin Stewart. Also, he has beer." he pauses a moment, "There's a way to exploit this financially, I'm sure."

Huruma leans over to look at the pin, dark features creasing ever so slightly into a further puzzled expression. "A gang against people named Edward?" She sounds dubious, eyes looking slowly away from the pin in his hand to his face. "D'you …know any Edwards? …or Jacobs?"

Adam considers the question, "That are alive?" he appears to concentrate and finally says, "I know an Eddie, but he's from Puerto Rico, so I think he's an Edwin." after a few more moments he adds, "I don't think I do. But if I find one, he'll be sneared at. Or not." he puts his button away, "Teenage girls are kind of like puppies. They're adorable in small numbers, but when there's a pack of them you want to put them in a sack and drown them in a river. Maybe I should be a teacher."

"I am sure that if anything, you could …thin th'herd." Huruma advises, but not really. Her spine stretches as she leans up against the hard wall of snow she is sitting in, shoulders bumping over crusty ice. She does not doubt that he does not know what to do with himself, no- just that he could really do anything he pleased to. "Or b'come a student yourself, technically. I don'trust th'keenness of th'idea, partly." But he could, if he wanted. Most men leave a legacy. Adam has never had to.

Adam throws up a hand, "I'm not going to listen to some ponce who read a book that they think is right without actually having done something themselves." he pauses, "Maybe I'll become a race car driver. I'm reasonably certain I could keep turning left. I mean how hard is it, it's one direction. I don't even have to look the other way."

"Rodeo clown?" Best clown ever. Huruma says it as seriously as she can manage, eventually allowing her lips to part into a lazy smile. "Could invest in a hobby, get personally involved in a new business- I am no expert at finding objectives, though I am quite sure tha'you can choose something that …remotely pleases you t'do."

Adam hms, "Something will come up." he stands from his lounge chair, dusting himself off a bit and tossing his bottle haphazardly into the street to hear it smash against the ice, "Maybe I'll be a litterer. I'll just go around the city with a bag of trash and just drop stuff all over. Then I'll challenge people to duels if they say anything. Afterwards, I'll say it was all part of a Team Jacob plot."

"I b'lieve those are called bums." Huruma shifts to stand up, only to slip back into the shape she has contoured below. She frowns, using her hands to push herself up out of the seat. The back of her coat is dark with wetness, already frosted over. One arm loops behind to brush at it, halfheartedly. "Something will, yes." It isn't like he is going to run out of time to decide.

Adam nods, "I suppose." he pauses, "I'm going to walk for a while and see what happens." and so, he starts walking.

The woman in his wake fixes the red scarf around her face, tucking its tail and bringing it up under her chin. Her boots pick up to slink in Adam's trail. And for a while, Huruma will take a walk with him. A walk is still a journey, regardless of how uneventful.

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