Participants:
| Scene Title | Unhinged Her Jaw |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | The mall is busy and a gaggle of adults and teenagers help pick up spilled goods when two of them collide. |
| Date | April 10, 2011 |
Situated on the north end of Battery Park City, the World Center Mall is the largest shopping mall remaining in New York City. With the destruction of midtown Manhattan and the general financial decline following the bomb in 2006, many former businesses that eclipsed this large shopping center have gone out of business. The World Center Mall is a three story establishment featuring 150 stores as well as dozens of fast-foot restaurants and a 20-screen cinema located on the mall's third floor.
Given its status as one of the last remaining shopping malls of its type on Manhattan, the World Center Mall remains a busy and active shopping center, crowded with people during operating hours and severely lacking in parking accommodations that have not been expanded since the time of the bomb.
Malls are forever teeming with people. Be they there working, slaving away for minimum wage as a pimply faced teenager in an apron, hairnet and shoveling fries, the chic coiffed women in the higher end stores that turn down their nose at people who don't look like they can afford to be shopping in their stores.
Women carting bored husbands through victoria's secret, gaggles of teenagers crowded around the food court making eyes at each other and scarfing down fries. Mothers carting kids coming out of gymboree with bags of easter clothes for church in a few weeks. Plenty of stores that cater to just about any need here at the world center mall.
Hortense is here not to set up shop in an open space and dole out massages in the hopes of getting clients added to her rolodex. She's here because her boat is missing and short of her massage table in the back of her car, ever since she was summarily dumped on outskirts midtown, she's been trying to find a place to live and replenish her clothes and work supplies. A mall is an ideal place and it's out of a department store that she's going, new jeans and sweater, jacket and purse, with a handful of shopping bags overflowing in her arms.
All it takes is one person bumping into her and half the bags go spilling, Hortense stumbling with a "fuck"
Daryl isn't watching where he's going, but then he has an excuse. Parents, right? Check in. Do your homework. Be home by nine. They're just relentless sometimes! "No, dad, I was gonna call, just the batt—"
"Fuck!" he echoes, reacting a split second too late as Hortense steps out right in front of him. The cell phone slips out of his hand, clattering against the tile floor as it slides in between two of her bags of clothes. "Crap, sorry," he mutters, leaning down to help her get them picked up again.
Moving with the crowd, Devon doesn't seem to stand out. Another kid walking through yet another mall, though lacking in peers that would otherwise draw attention with the loud and boisterous talk that typically accompanies today's youth. No, the intern is silent, a hand kept in his pocket and the other lifting to bare his wrist and allow for a peek at his watch.
As his eyes come up again, it's in time for Devon to witness the collision. That watch wearing hand comes out to offer a steadying pressure to Hortense's shoulder. "Hey, careful," he says, by no means impolitely. "You alright?" First offered to the woman and then the other teenager.
Of all places, Robyn Quinn is stepping out of a - jewelery store. She doesn't actually have any bags in hand or anything, she's mostly looking down at her phone, with a thin, catelogue looking book in hand. Not really paying attention, as seems to be the theme going around at the moment.
But her attention is grabbed by the sudden collision of two people walking along the mall floor. For once, she's glad it isn't her, but as a cell phone slides towards her and the contents of Hortense's bags go spilling, she moces into action. Well, as much action as stopping the phone with her goot and picking it up takes, moving to grab one of Hortense's things. "Christ, that look like it hurt," she remarks with a bit of a laugh. She doesn'tt ell them to be more careful - she does it all the time, after all.
Teenagers. god damnit. Victoria's secret goes flying, coming to a stop at Quinn's feet, unmentionable spilling out. The crack and subsequent smell of perfume from a macy's bag at Devon's feet as Hortense just sinks down to stare at her stuff, settle her unspilled bags on the floor. She'd been doing so good after everything that had happened, and Daryl accidentally smacking into her really bites the bucket. "What where you're going would you!" She snaps out, a trembling hand going for one of the bags of clothing till Devon's laying a hand on her shoulder, freezing up. "Don't touch me, please" Something likely Devon is familiar with. The tall brunette - a good 6 feet in her boots - slides her shoulder down and jerks away. "Just.. just can i get some help picking up my shit please" The end punctuated by a cough that she tries to bury in her elbow.
The goddamn teenager Daryl winces. Yup, predictable response there. Would he have seen her in time if he hadn't been on the phone? Who knows. Handing over the first bag he grabbed, he lets one of the others take care of the next one, instead walking over to retrieve his phone. The back panel's come loose, and with it the battery; it'll be a minute before he can call back. And then get yelled at some more. Dammit.
It's a line Devon is well familiar with, and he nods as his hand is retracted. Instead he kneels down and starts pushing things into bags. Probably not near as neatly as a clerk would have done, but he's an intern. At least he's not looking at anything or waving it around and making catcalls. A glance goes after Daryl, a brow lifting briefly before his attention returns to Hortense. "You alright?" It's asked again, quieter and little more concerned than the first time he'd asked.
"Don't touch me!" is something Quinn recognises too, her eyes narrowing as she scoops the cotnents back into the Victoria's Secret bag, trying not really to look to hard as she does. Might make her mind wander. She grimaces a bit, flipping the phone in her palm as she stands straight and looks towards the smally formed group. Oh hey, Devon too. "You need t' stop running int' where I am, Devon," she quips, slipping the small catelogue she had picked up under her arm. "Here's your stuff, miss." Actually seeing her confirms the suspicion - the woman from Smoov's party, and Quinn becomes instantly wary.
"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm peachy. I lost everything and having to drop a small fortune on rebuying everything like even god damned underwear and shoes and I did not need to run into some stupid teenager who can't look where he is going because he's too busy talking on his god damned phone to some little girlfriend who is probably leading him on" She's looking at Daryl while saying it, forcefully shoving things into the bags regardless of whether they're in the right bag or not. She snatches the bag from him, watching him pick up his phone with a little bit of venom before taking the one from Quinn followed by Devon.
To which she realizes she just unhinged her jaw and pretty much tried to swallow daryl whole.
Poor Daryl.
"God. I'm.. I'm sorry" This to all three of them. "Fuck. I'm sorry." Hortense runs a hand through her dark hair, lowering her head, composing herself. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I"m biting the heads off of all of you and you did nothing"
Like prey animals, teenagers evolve a variety of defenses against hostile adults. Some are wolverines, pound for pound some of the most vicious creatures around. Some are birds, able to fly away. Some are brightly colored tree frogs, warning off would-be attackers ahead of time. And then there's the platypus, who looks like he was thrown together from random spare parts… right up until he whips out a poison stinger.
"Hey, you were the one who--" Daryl begins. By that point, Hortense is already starting to apologize— but to hell with it, he's on a bit of a roll here himself, even as he picks up another nondescript little bag and hands it across. "And that was my dad, who's probably all pissed off right now 'cause he thinks I was cussing at him, and when I explain, he'll ride my ass all over again—" Okay, and now he's done.
Hearing his name, Devon looks over and sees… Quinn? "What, are you stalking me," he asks the musician with just a hint of a grin. "Just no pulling any fire—" The rest is lost, or aborted, as Hortense into a mini-rant. Even his expression changes, faltering toward knitted brows and slightly uncomfortable TMI look.
"Uh…" The intern glances at Daryl as he starts into a tirade all his own. Quick little movements of a subtle head shake try to relay that arguing is such a horribly bad idea. But his efforts are, in whole, saved by Hortense's apology. His eyes pass between them, all three who've gathered. "Is… there… some way we could… help?"
"Whoa, whoa…" Quinn peers between Devon and Hortense for a moment as the bag is snatched back ffrom her, her expression souring a bit. "Okay, geez. You must be havin' a really bad day." Quinn's tone is somewhere between humerous and snide - it's obvious she is, after all. Bending down to pick up another one of Hortense's droppe dpurchesase, she shakes her head. "I doubt anyone ran int' anyone, no reall need t' yell. Yell if he stole somethin' from you, because then he deserves it." Handing the next thing back to Hortense, her eyes slide back over to Devon. "The only woman I'd be stalking I think is back at our apartment at the moment. Besides, fire alarms are so obstructive. You need t' be more subtle than that." And she winks, hoping humour diffuses some fo the tension.
'Really… really bad… day" Hortense is digging in her purse, bringing out a business card, a pen, scratching something across the back. "Give this to your dad and he can like, give that to your mom for some like present or something. Like, two hours of massage, I'm a masseuse. I'm sure it'll make him not yell at you" It's held out, and if taken, Hortense starts to gather up her bags, head ducked a bit at the fact that she totally lost it. She doesn't recognize Quinn from Smoov's party - Odds are it's good she doesn't, give who's responsible for her the state that she's in right now. SHe brings her elbow up again, coughing into the fabric there, a little wobbly. "I could.. if I pay you ten bucks could you help me take my bags to the car? I'm not feeling so hot." Apologetic still to the trio.
There's an inexplicable coldness to Daryl's eyes as he takes the card. "My mom. Right." He doesn't push, though - the woman had no way of knowing that his mom was long since out of the picture - he just pockets the card without further comment. And then there's that offer, equally out of a blind alley. Sure, what the hell, he could use ten bucks for ten minutes worth of work. "You see a doctor yet," he asks, "or is it one of those twenty-four hour bugs?"
Several of the fallen bags are gathered without comment, and without peeking, as Devon stands. "No payment necessary," he explains with a shrug. He offered to help, true he kind of volunteered Quinn and Daryl along with his offer, but he still made the offer initially. His brows crease again, arching upward over the cough and wobbly nature and, despite the no-touchy rule, he might catch her if she stumbles again. "You um… need some water or something?"
"Yeah, don't worry about, like… money?" Quinn eyes the woman for a moment. She just got back frmo an island of recovering sick people, if she catches something now she will be absolutely livid. "Sounds like you could use ten bucks t' go buy some cold medicine. Don't need someone t' drive you home, do you?" Not that Quinn's offering, even though she sort of is. She looks over at Devon, grinning. "Keep this in mind, if they ask what you did this weekend. Helping out makes us look good."
She'll pay Daryl at least, relinquishing bags to him while Devon is picking up some other bags. "No water. Cough medicine is in the bag, I'll be fine. I caught a cold while I was out of town" Wherever the hell it was that she got carted off to. "I think.. I think.." Should she take quinn up on the offer? She wasn't feeling so hot. "I could. Probably. Take you up on the offer of a drive. I'll exchange that for a session when I'm feeling better" Hortense glances down to her watch, an eye on the time and shake of her head. "If you don't got anything else to do, Kid" SHe looks at Daryl. "Just.. go call your dad before he unhinges his jaw too" holding her hand out for her bags.
Man, this just isn't Daryl's day. First the run-in and the dropped things, then these two strangers going all Boy Scout on him and turning down the money. Oh well, he'll wait till they get to the parking lot to work it out… and if he ends up getting nothing from it, well, there are other ways to acquire such an amount. "Will in a minute," he replies to Quinn, holding out the phone as it struggles to get back onto the grid.
A half amused smirk goes to Daryl as Devon intervenes to take most of the bags. "I can get her a cab," he offers to Quinn, eyes going back to Hortense, "if the trip's out of your way." He pauses, eyes shifting toward the radio host again. "Unless… you're going by the office after and I can beg a ride there? I'll pitch in for gas." Heck, he'll even ride in the back seat. "And for his effort, the kid there can have bus fare."
It's probably good thing Quinn took a tab out here instead of driving her scooter, this works out well enough. "I'm not sure, we'll work it out, Devon," she replies to the intern, giving a bit of a look over towards Daryl. Even if it wasn't his fault, he should still be turning down the money since he was a part of it. Since. You know.
Looking to Hortense, Quinn gives her a bit of a nod. "But I can give you a ride, if you don't mind it." Either way, someone is going to be a little cold on the back of teh scooter, and either way it's out of QUinn's way. But, she doesn't mind terribly much. It's not like she has much better to do as the group turns, starting their way out of the mall and out to Hortense's car.