Participants:
| Scene Title | Yoda I Am Not |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | In need of a teacher for little Colette, Teo appeals to Conrad because he has an excellent resume and is a good influence on impressionable young women with taut butts. |
| Date | January 6, 2008 |
On the outside, this sprawling multi-level complex has not seen use in many years, its walls covered in greenery and stone exterior and glass windows showing evidence of disrepair. Surrounded by a chain link fence, a drive leads from the street to a large dock, and around the back one can expect to find more sprawling greenery that eventually leads to a concrete drop off into the Atlantic Ocean.
Passing through the chainlink fence and into the dispensary will reveal that the aged and crumbling outside is a facade. The loading dock is kept clear for the most part of everything save vehicles and supplies, though a section has been quartered off and transformed into an open workshop. The dispensary itself has been transformed into something akin to a makeshift dormitory, complete with common areas, a sizable kitchen and eating area, with various rooms converted into bedrooms for the residence. One room has even been set up as a makeshift clinic, amply stocked with supplies.
The back lawn and garden of the dispensary is surprisingly well tended, green and lush during the right months. Vegetables have been planted in accordance to season closer to the building, though someone has indulgently planted a plots of flowers - notably sunflowers - here and there. Further out, the ground drops a little and makes it to a concrete edge from which opens out into deeper water of the Atlantic.
The place is cleaned up pretty well, or at least better than Conrad found it. That's for sure. He hasn't been seen a whole lot around town and this place is a big reason why. Aside from some help he's been pretty much this place's main caretaker for a while. Currently Con's got a bunch of nails in his mouth and is humming to himself, busily tapping them into a new baseboard along one part of the hallway floor where the old one dry rotted out.
The place is pretty much empty otherwise. There's not a whole lot in the way of furniture anywhere, and it has the feel of an abandoned school.
If more schools were this close to the sea, Teo might have gone to school more often. And, probably, more kids would have drowned. Not Teo, though. He likes water, and he's fairly good with it. So that's about ten minutes wasted, staring adoringly at the wrinkling vista of Atlantic water, massive, gray, breathing like a living thing outside of the dispensary while his nose makes progress toward freezing off, before he reluctantly turns for the doors and drags his corpus inside. It doesn't take him long to locate the only other real source of noise in here, though he doesn't have a lot of doubt that Conrad hears him coming first, the tap-tap noise of boots expanding in the space it's given. "Wozniak? Signor?" Down the hallway, to the right.
Briefly Con pauses, listening. "Hmmp." he says, nails in his mouth. Not that he needs his mouth to talk. It only takes a moment for him to stop just listening and Listen instead. Satisfied that he only hears one other human heartbeat than his own nearby (in addition to the myriad scrabblings and sounds associated with rats, mice, roaches, and the unavoidable vermin of any city) he says clearly and without opening his mouth, "Over here, Teo." Then goes back to tap tap tapping another nail into the new baseboard.
Despite being passingly familiar with the older man's capabilities by now, Teo rounds the corner without expecting to find his jaws occupied with a task other than speaking. There's a subtle shift of surprise; he doesn't immediately assume that Conrad hadn't stuck the nails in his mouth upon hearing him come, but that would seem like… a bit of a snub and, uh, popular theory has it that the erstwhile soldier would sooner tell you on graphic and indisputable terms to… go away. "Buongiorno," he says, experimentally, peering down at the repair underway. "Do you have a moment to talk? Someone outside the club needs a favor."
Glancing over his shoulder, Con takes a moment to spit the nails out in his hand and drop them on the floor. He sits on the floor and faces Teo. "Sure, buddy. Wassup?" He grins and looks around the hall. "Like the place?"
"I do," Teo's answer is immediate. "I'm trying not to get all derailed and yell my head off about the sea being right fucking over there, and the garden— Hel will love that, the size is perfect for where we're at right now and room to grow, location's perfect, loading dock's discreet and, um." There's a hapless grin, two rows of white teeth. "It's fucking beautiful. I'd love to help you set up. I had to look up 'dispensary' in my dictionary, though. Farmacia. For medicine, or something?" Derailed. Yup.
"Yeah I think it was like that. Not real sure. But yeah, THIS was what I was talking about when I said we needed something better than the library. Sooner or later we'll lose that place." Con yawns for a moment and gets to his feet with a grunt. Bones creaking. He's not a kid like Helena. "So what's the deal, Teo? You don't usually come hit me up for shit."
Though there's a little love for their current home, Teo nods his agreement to that. It's better than the library. "Seems like the foundations are solid, everything made for sea air, and that shit. Have you looked at the plumbi—" Right. Teo regroups, visibly resisting the urge to offer the other man a hand up, setting a gloved hand against his jaw to scratch; not a fidget, a sheepish gesture. He should hit Conrad up for shit more often. Or less often. Maybe; instinct has it he's doing it wrong, whatever it is, but now wouldn't be the time to be considering long-term adjustments.
"You've been training Elisabeth how to use her ability. I've seen her do some new stunts— you're really good at teaching. There's a little girl who just manifested a few weeks ago, came to me asking if I knew someone who could help her learn how to control her ability. Not audiokinesis, but hopefully close enough." Teo provides visual cues as he starts to segue into the caveats and, no pun intended, cons; his gaze drops, and he squints before glancing back up. "There's some bad blood between her, Hel and Abby. She was— still is prejudiced, and she threatened to turn Abigail in to HomeSec if she didn't heal her cop friend. Judah Demsky. But she seems contrite now.
"Scared of Registration, too. It was either you or Al. You're both already Registered and know about control, but I think you have a little more teaching experience and a way with navigating bullshit besides." There's a tacit understanding there that he doesn't bother assigning words to. If Conrad has real objections or doubts, that would likely merit cause to scrap the whole notion. Despite the proximity to the Atlantic, the air is cold and dry here: Teo coughs once he's done vomitting words.
A hand goes out in kind of a 'stop' motion and Conrad says, "Now hold on a minute here. You want me to try to teach some snot-nosed girl who has problems with Hel and Abby how to use her abilities better? Why? I'm not saying no. Not saying yes either…" Just because he has to and because nobody else is here, Con takes a moment to scratch his butt. Because when it itches, you gotta scratch that ass!
Naturally, that prompts the Sicilian to shift his squint up at the ceiling. "Because she's blinded herself in the bathroom mirror, accidentally set shit on fire, and needs help before she figures out what to do with Registration. And— uhh. I— don't think she has a problem with Abby anymore, but Abby has a problem with her. Wouldn't accept the apology. Not yet, anyway. I figure one less panicky, uncontrolled unregistered Evolved girl fucking up in Manhattan is better than one more." Also, she had big sympathetic eyes and tripped all over Teo's guilt complex, but that much is obvious.
"Dude, you are such a pussy." states Conrad levelly, poking a finger at Teo's chest. He sighs and says, "I'll think about it. Why don't you introduce us and I'll feel the idea out, kay? Part of the reason I wanted to get all this space was so we could maybe do something like training. Ability instruction. But I ain't Yoda."
The corners of Teo's mouth go down, before twitching upward despite his effort to remain serious. There is a butt-scratching finger being wiped on his jacket. Things will be okay. "I don't— well, obviously she can't come here, but… But that would be great. Terrificante. I'll give you a call. I don't think she needs Yoda," he adds. Elisabeth hadn't.
Muttering, Conrad turns to scoop up his hammer and nails. "…probably a smartass lil bitch thinks she knows everything. Needs a kick in the ass is what she needs…" Yeah. He probably will end up at least trying.
"She seemed very sheepish. And apologetic," Teo mentions, only very slightly worriedly, stepping forward and craning his tousled head to see if there's anything he can help with. "And nervous that we— Phoenix or the Ferrymen, I don't think she really understands the distinction or roles— were just going to flip her off." Both Alexander and Conrad have a history of torturing little girls, mind you, but generally Teo finds the latter type more useful and less objectionable.
"Yeah well, like any kid, I guess." The difference with Conrad is he isn't known to actually hurt little girls. In fact somewhat the opposite. He asks over his shoulder, "What's her name again?"
No. A different kind of torture altogether, as far as Teo is aware: a healthy kind, believe it or not. "Colette Demsky. I don't think that's her real surname— she took it off that cop she's living with, the injured one. She's about yay tall," he elevates his hand. Not tall. "Short dark hair, blind in one eye. Wafer-thin. About sixteen years old. Neither of us could figure out for sure what her ability was, but something to do with heat and light. Do you need any help with that?" The latter question forces its way out when peering around fails to disclose to him anything to occupy his hands.
"Blind in one eye? Jesus," blasphemes Conrad easily, shaking his head. He points down the hall and says, "Kitchen's that way. Go get yourself a beer and you can explore the place if you like. We need furniture. You got any ideas on how we can get some good furniture for cheap?"
Though the blasphemy warrants a glance, Teo forgets to do more than glance: he's on his way to beer. "I thinks he was actually around the night you and Hel went to Chinatown. She's hooked up with the Ferrymen, somehow. The Ferrymen are a good answer to most things. Including furniture, I'm pretty sure. They probably have more safehouses and other property than you have sport jackets." Probably. "I'm pretty sure they have an affordable way of furnishing them. Or secondhand stuff we could borrow." His voice has faded around the doorway, bouncing off walls and ceiling, framed in an echo.
This is where Conrad being Conrad is kinda neat. Because he carries on a conversation with Teo no matter how far away the other man gets, without having to even shout. Down on his knees he proceeds to tap the last nails into the new baseboard. "I wouldn't know if she was there that night or not, unless she's one of the jerks I scared to death when I knocked a wall down." He pauses a second and muses, "I suppose I could ask the fairies…"
That is pretty cool. The fridge door eases open, and Teo's voice circles back, intelligently: "Huh?" The what?
"The fairies. You know. The Ferrymen." Yeah, Conrad's names for people aren't always flattering.
The kitchen is one of those institutional deals with stainless steel stuff and it looks like it's made for a cafeteria or serving lots of people. But of course the fridge (though it's one of those huge ones) is stocked with plenty to drink. As well as some half-eaten leftovers that Con no doubt brought here.
Or Teodoro could lead himself to think that that's a children's story reference. Fairy godparents, bringers of blessings, givers of gifts, makers of princesses. Or, okay. Unflattering. He peers to and fro through cartons of leftovers, locates a can of beer and glances over his shoulder through the kitchen's industrial proportions. "I don't think Colette was one of those jerks. Do you have a number for Allistair or Grace?" He knees the fridge door shut, and his footfalls echo back, pausing when the Sicilian fetches a glance down toward an unexplored wing.
"No. We aren't all that tight. Though I bet if I pulled out my phone and just started asking for Wireless I'd get a response from her." That's not actually a bad idea, come to think of it. Con pauses and nods to himself. Might have to try that. He starts nailing the last of the nails in.
The younger man's smile is as audible as any other aspect of his voice. "Good idea. Allistair's probably the one you want." Teo glances down at the floorboards, checking for other signs of rot or damage, picking out a few places where Conrad had already been through here. "I'm gonna go see what's over there, if that's okay with you. Hey." The quality of sound changes slightly as he turns to look back down the way he had come, as if Conrad could see him or weigh the sincerity of his gaze from all the way over here. "Thanks. For considering it, doing this thing for Colette."
"Anytime, pal." comes Conrad's voice. "Knock yourself out, by the way. Mi casa es su casa." He gets up and goes to get himself a beer.
 January 6th: Attitude |
 January 6th: I Have a Cunning Plan |