Participants:
| Scene Title | You Got The Wrong Person |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Mortimer, Abigail and Ryans happen upon the same section of the library in Brooklyn. |
| Date | January 3, 2010 |
The central branch of the Brooklyn Public Library was designed to resemble an open book, two wings stretching out along the bordering streets, with the main entrance located at their hinge. Inside is the heart of one of the nation's largest public library systems; the Central Library alone contains over 1.5 million books, magazines, and other materials. It also contains the Brooklyn Collection, an assortment of references and ephemera that chronicle the history of the borough, and a Multilingual Center for non-English speakers and linguistic scholars. A cafe on the first floor sells coffee and snacks, while a restaurant on the third floor (open weekdays only) sells cafeteria-style meals. Internet access is freely available throughout the building.
It's a bit later in the afternoon with a crisp winter chill outside, and Mortimer has decided that he's in definite need of taking a break from dream hopping. The number of people who fire rocket launches into their boss' window, and the number of geeks having dreams about Starfire, it's just something he never wanted to know.
He's wearing a long grey trenchcoat for the winter, with a pair of blue jeans and some black boots on, and of course leather gloves to hide that one robotic arm. Right now he's settled at a long library table, reading the first Twilight book with a scrunched up slightly confused expression on his face. "What are kids reading these days…" says he person driven insane by Lovecraft.
With his girls away, dad will…. go to the library. Benjamin Ryans, makes his way up the steps of the library, his leather shoes tap softly on the marble, his canvas duster fluttering behind him lightly. As soon as he pushes through the door, her reaches up to unwind the rust colored scarf from her neck and wadding it up to stick in one of the dusters deep pockets.
Blue eyes narrow a touch as he looks out over the rows of books, trying to make a choice of where he wants to go first, leather clad hand tucking the scar away. Lips press together and Ryans makes his way to the front desk. "Excuse me." He asks quietly, though his voice does still carry. "I'm looking for a book." He pulls off his gloves as she talks and reaches into an inner pocket to pull out a folded piece of paper, offering it to her fingers unfolding the note. "Old friend was just published and I wanted to take a look." His voice is friendly a small smile touching his lips.
The young woman behind the desk glances at the paper and considers it. "This is a new title. New titles can be found over there, sir." She points at a certain row of books.
Benjamin glances that way and nods, "My thanks." Is offered politely, as he takes the paper back, tucking it away. He travels down the row of books, eyes squinting to read the text on the binding, making the cross feet stand out a bit more. He really needs to look at reading glasses, but then it would mean him admitting he's getting rather old.
Kids are reading all sorts of things these days. The non cool kids that is. The cool ones wouldn't be caught dead in a library. So instead you got the studious kids, you got the college students, you have the university students and just random people with their small kids taking in every possible way to kill time on a sunday doing family things.
There's also someone who Mortimer's come across once in a dark alleyway who's thumping - softly - across the floor after getting some information herself. New change of books for classes and she's going to check them out before she buys them. Hey, end of the world makes you consider things like that. Also posibbly? Something for herself to read. So there's two books clutched to the right crutch and a small pile at her feet as she's plucking some out from the shelves, looking at them, then putting them either back, or down to be collected soon. Brown hair up, scarf around her neck.
Mortimer shakes his head, closing the book with a 'done' expression. He simply can't read it anymore. He heads down the row of books with the older man and younger woman, though the younger woman looks familiar, so he heads over a bit closer. Looking her up and down… he's sure he's never slept with her, too young to be an older friend of his sister's, certainly not a cult member. "Wait, I know you. You're that girl from the alley, the one I, well…" He shrugs a bit awkwardly, since approaching people who knew you when you weren't at your most sane is… mildly embarassing. "Thought was an angel." His demeanor is completely different from that time, he seems a bit more clean cut, and his style of dress has definitely changed. "This book is terrible."
A hand comes up trace the spine of a book. "Not.. quite." He murmurs softly, letting his fingers trail down to the next row. His eyes go down the row passed a form in his way, only spotting the book then. "Ah.. pardon me." Ryans offers softly to the young girl next to him. He points to a book just in front of her. "If I could just…." The words trail off as someone addresses her, his gaze focusing on the young man.
Giving him a once over, his face neutral really on his thoughts. Though the book in his hand is noticed and gets a small twitch of a smile. "My youngest once tried to explain those books to me. Not my thing really."
Blue eyes snap from the books, to Mortimer as he starts to talk to her. The startlement that makes her jump a bit is probably a given seeing that the last time they met, he'd shot himself and hidden in a trash bin in the hopes of finding her and making sure she could heal. "Yeahh… because I healed you" Many people thought she was an angel. "You asked me to to take rev-"
Ryans soft apology and gesture snaps her eyes from Mortimer to the older gentleman and an apologetic smile. "Oh, sorry" Fingers moved up in a fan of apology before she takes a few tiny hops back followed by her crutches so that he can get in to the book her wants. "Which books are they trying to explain? Sometimes.. it's one of those things you might have to done read for yourself you know? There's no amount of explaining that can make you understand until you lay your eyes on the words themselves. Sorry again, standing in front of books and yapping when someone needs them"
"Yeah, uh, I'm better now, sort of. And currently unemployed." Mortimer says the last part as a hint of his severed ties with Linderman, then holds the book in his hand up. "I don't know how anyone reads this Twilight stuff. I'll take Harry Potter or even Anne Rice over it."
"Thank you." Ryans gives her a short nod before receiving the book wrapped in it's new jacket of plastic wrapping, making it crinkle a bit when he pulls it out of the shelf. A glance to the cover, before he tucks it under his arm.
"Those." He nods in the other man's directs as the book is held up. "Not really a case of reading it myself. I'm not into vampires and over emotional teenage girls." A smile threatens to break his rather serious expression, as he explains, "I raised two teenage girls. I think I have had quite enough of that, thank you."
Ah. Twilight. "Vampires and werewolves oh my! I swear everyone in my bar has read it but me. WOn't find me touching that with a ten foot pole. No team Jacob or team Edward over here" There's a roll of her eyes to hammer home how ridiculous she finds the books. Not that she doens't hear Mortimers words and raise her brows. "Linderman's short another employee just as he gains others" She imagines that the turnover for employee's in linderman's not so legal enterprises is fairly high. "Don't think I ever got your name in the alley, though you had mine" That doens't stop her from carefully tossing a book onto her growing pile and offering her palm to Ryan. "Abigail. Two girls? Lord on high you poor man. My Dah had a right terrible time with me as a teenager, I can't imagine a man having two of them!"
"My name's Mortimer. And, ah, you could say I have a friend that Linderman isn't very fond of, and a part of me just can't work for him while she's in trouble. And I grew up with a teenaged sister myself, but she was pretty great most of the time." Mortimer doesn't say just how literal he's being by saying 'a part of me', and simply slides the book back into a shelf. "Wait a minute, you can heal, can't you?" It just sort of hits him, turning around to face her with wide eyes. "You can give me my arm back, right?" Though he has two arms, it would seem, so it's hard to say what he means, especially since his hands seem to be moving pretty fine under his gloves.
"Abigail? Lovely name. Luckily though, both of them are probably about your age." Ryans gives her a gentle and polite smile, taking some of the harshness from his face for a moment. His grip is warm when he takes her hand, if a bit rough from the years, scars run in pale lines, testament of a hard working man. "Ryans.. Benjamin Ryans. Pleasure to meet you both."
Mortimer's words get a slight quirking of thin brow, once one of Linderman's men? Interesting. Blue eyes finds Abigail again. "A healer?" He asks curiously.
The palm that had shook Ryan's hand, not so rough as his but one of a woman who works is soon finding itself to the side of her face, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose as Mortimer's commenting that she could heal him. Fingers let go, heel of her palm pressing against the socket of her eye before the books at her feet are summarily forgotten and the brunette starts to pivot with the help of a crutch. "No Mortimer, I don't heal. You got the wrong person. Maybe you need to go talk to your former boss" If she could heal would she be running around with crutches and a broken ankle?
But if one just switches her hair color to red, and their memory is good enough, she looks just like that girl who got caught on tape saving a man and subsequently gave an interview on TV about it. The healer from central park. Abigail starts to head off, cheeks flushing red, not wanting to deal with this right now.
"Sorry, my memory is hazy, it's hard to remember how things happened sometimes." Mortimer shrugs, sighing but not following. It would be far too difficult for him to explain any misunderstandings, so he simply goes back to looking through books. "I'm an idiot sometimes." he says quietly to himself, though loud enough for the man to hear.
"Yes, well…" Ryans starts giving the younger man a once over, "Sometimes it is not wise to talk about certain things about a woman around strangers. Much like their age and weight. But she's right… Linderman is your best bet there." He gives Mortimer a short nod before taking his book with him out of the row.
Slipping the book from under his arm, he adds it to her pile and picks it up the whole lot. After that it's not hard for him to catch Abigail on those crutches, only a few strides and he's giving her a small smile. "If figured you worked so hard to collect this pile, you shouldn't have to leave without it. Shall, I carry these to the front desk for you?"
Abigail catches the sorry from Mortimer, still scarlet cheeked as she's hightailing it for the end of the stack. Ryan's suggestion that echoes hers as well. IF it's been half a year earlier, She could have done it, would have done it. Focused on getting out of there and oblivious to the books she left behind that she jumps again when Ryans catches up, jerking to a halt. 'Sorry" AS she looks up at him. "Sorry, I woulda sent someone back for them. I left my bag with my jacket and-" A shy smile given to the older man. "Thank you. Yeah, the counter" Chemistry books, anatomy books, others on the finer points of various knowledge's that she'll need to be an EMT. Abigail hazards a glance behind her shoulder and to Mortimer there before she carries on but at a far less clipped pace than before.
Twisting his body to glance the way he came from, Ryans squints. "I must have some how missed those. Let me just pop on back." He leaves her to keep traveling to the desk, while the former agent goes back to pick up the rest of her stuff.
When he does catch back up to her at the desk, he is eying her books with something akin to curious amusement. "Going into the medical field I see." He comments, his voice still that quiet kind of rumble. "Never was good at that sort of thing, though I had had plans to go into college myself. But spent a lot of time pointing and shooting for Uncle Sam." The books are carefully set on the desk, his removed from the top and set aside before he offers her the rest of her things.
"uhmm, yeah" She dips her head to the side. "EMT training. I had to stop, but I'm jumping back in" Uncle Sam. "Military or one of the various agents that Uncle Sam keeps in his pocket?" She fishes her wallet out from her purse, passing over her library card to the clerk at the desk while her books start making it through the scanner.
"Abigail turns to regard Ryan, a sheepish look on her face. "I have to apologize. For Mortimer. last time we met he was.. just.. He kept insisting I had wings and to please not kill nayone of his gang or him, he didn't want to rip my wings off. I think he's a little touched in the head"
"Military for several years, then went into sales, but retired now." Ryans busies himself getting his own library card out, setting on top of is own book, till it is his turn. "Had to really, the girls mother was in midtown, they needed me at home and my work always had me traveling."
Benjamin glances again over his shoulder at the row of books again with a serious look, at the apology. "Touched in the head? Perhaps, but no need for apologizes. Not the first time I've been around strange people like that."
"Sales? Who'd you work for?" As each book is scanned, abigail's pushing them into the backpack that she's switched to while playing the part of hop-a-long cassidy. "You don't look old enough to retire though, if you ask me" Being polite and it's the truth.
That actually gets a soft chuckle from the man, "Thirty seven years traveling around selling paper and office supplies. Not a glamorous job, but it paid the bills." His fingers pat the book on the counter as he watches her fumble about. As she stuffs books in her bag, he offers his book to the person behind the counter. "Did you slip on ice?" He finally asks.
"Paper supplies" Why does that tickle in her memory. She pulls the drawstring close,d shaking her head. "No, no, nothing so mundane as slipping on some ice. I had a run in with a -" What? No ones actually asked her how she hurt herself. "I had a car accident. Broke my ankle pretty bad. But I some people and when I get tired of limping around and want to avoid physiotherapy i'm gonna go visit them"
Selling paper. What military person sell pa-.
Fuck. She doens't really curse out loud just glances at Ryans with furrowed brows. "You sold paper supplies?"
"Sorry to hear about the accident, I hope you have a speedy recovery." Ryans gives a short nod as he takes his card back and takes the time to tuck it back in his wallet. "And I did… before that it was car repair. The supplies paid a bit better. Best work I could get after getting out of the Navy." He murmurs a thank you to the desk person as he takes the book in hand again.
A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, "Like I said… retired now. Now it's simply me, my garden and a quiet house. " He tries to make it sound like the perfect thing, but there is something in his expression that gives away that it might not be all that great.
"Oh, I'm sure the driver will regret getting in the car that day, at some point" When she's sure Teo's fist is going to loose a few teeth. "I'm curious. Paper. Primatech? The company that was around until it got shut down. Something about a earhtquake was it? Took down the main office out in brooklyn. Did you work there?" Gardening and a quiet house, with two teenaged daughters. She has to see Noah soon, one can bet that she'll be asking about Ryans here when she does. Maybe the other man knows?
Abigail slings her bag over her shoulder, one arm through a strap then the other once her jacket is on.
"I heard about that disaster.. I was well retired by then." The book is tucks under Benjamin's arm so that he can pull out his gloves and start tugging them on, "But.. is there any other paper company? So yes.. traveled all over for them. But.. that is the past." Gloves on, he offers her a polite smile and slow nod of his head. "Be careful on your journey home. Wouldn't want you to break the other ankle."
His scarf is pulled out of his duster pocket and left to rest across his shoulders. "Best be on my way, the youngest is coming by to check on me, I'm sure. Not even sixty and they think I can not take care of myself." He gives her that gentle smile again. "Pleasure to meet you, Abigail."
"Pleasure to meet you too former Agent Ryans" Scarf around her neck, Crutches slipped under her arms and a knowing look in her eyes. But it's not one that's dangerous. There' no disgust or anger, or anything else of the sort. Primatech. Only one kind of person works there with military backgrounds.
"Hope you have a happy new year and the lord see's fit to keep your family safe" She starts off then, head hunkered down, chin tucked into her scarf and away from the taller gentleman. No, that was not a accidental slip of the tongue calling him agent.
The title brings the old man up short and Ryans is left watching the young woman, no older then his own two girls hobble off. "Curious." The word is whispered, eyes narrowing at her back.
After a moment, he gives a soft sigh, "Your out of that life Ryans, best not to think to hard about it." But he knew better… it would bother him for sometime that a young girl knows what he was.