2009-11-09: Bad Shoe Day

Starring:

Felix_V4icon.pngHallis_V4icon.pngLena_V4icon.pngTiago_V4icon.png

Date: November 9, 2009

Summary:

While two hoodlums flee from Johnny Law, a socialite gets dumped on.


"Bad Shoe Day"

Greenwich Village - In front of the apartments

Did you know there's a bookstore up the street from Hallis' apartment? Yeah, she probably didn't know either. That's where Tiago and Lena have come from. They've made good time, considering that the teenager is behaving like a drunken person: clinging to the man, stumbling over her own feet, having a difficult time focusing her eyes. There's a large welt running across her forehead towards her temple, swollen and already darkening with the beginning of a beautiful bruise. The eye below it looks to be swelling shut; someone's going to be wearing sunglasses for awhile, to cover the shiner that's developing.

This being New York City, that spectacle not going to attract too much attention. Especially when there's a lights and sirens show occurring in front of the aforementioned bookstore. A pair of police cruisers have peeled up, followed not long after by a boxy ambulance. The occupants of each vehicle can be seen exiting and hurrying inside, the paramedics dragging a stretcher along between them.

"…fucking freaks." Lena might be slurring her speech, but obscenity is suited to slurring.

Tiago, otherwise known as Lena's human crutch, looks particularly distraught at the current circumstance. With his arms wound around Lena, pressing her against him tightly, he takes special care while moving to ensure the smoothest, least painful process as possible for the girl. Every once in a while, he tosses an incendiary look back towards the chaos that is the Borders, licking his lips almost anxiously. "What didya say, baby?" He inquires, almost offhand.

It's subtle, but someone prone to noticing things might notice the subtle splatter of blood on his baggy shirt, smeared over his blanched knuckles.

Any bookstore's worth a trip on the way back from work, really. Since the wife and the kid and the parents are all in hiding, relatively speaking. Fel's footsteps slow for just a moment, and then pick up to a far brisker walk than the mosey with which he'd been approaching. He's already palming his badge, which he displays to the cops there. They greet him with a decided lack of enthusiasm, one of the uniforms informing him curtly, "This is so below your jurisdiction," "Indulge me," Felix replies, calmly. "Just for curiosity's sake." If he's noticed Tiago and Lena, he gives no immediate sign.

A cab drives slowly along the street past the book store. Indeed, Hallis didn't know that there was one up the street from her building, but it's not like she cares anyway. The only thing she reads has her own picture on the front of it. "Hey, maybe I should. Yeah!" The idea that forms in her head is one that's been done a million times before by a million people, but to Hallis it's possibly the best idea on Earth. "I should write an autobiography! Who wouldn't want to read about me?" She glances up to the cabby, who in turn takes a peek into the rear view, becoming a little paranoid with the passenger who seems to be talking to herself. "You'd want to read about me, wouldn't you?" Hallis asks the question, only to be polite… of course he would, everyone wants to read about her.

There's a crackle of static from the officer's radio, and he pauses to dip his head towards his shoulder and key the mic to mutter an answer. Behind him, the paramedics and their stretcher come rattling through the doors. There's a greasy fellow in a stained wife-beater strapped onto it, a blanket drawn up to his chest. His face, beneath an oxygen mask, has the pulpy look of someone who's been worked over pretty well by a pair of fists.

"A pair of kids beat up a drunk." The cop straightens up, tracking the medics as they load the supposed drunk into their ambulance. Meaty fingers close over his belt while he shifts back to eyeballing Felix. "You're welcome to help us find 'em." Sarcastic? Not so much that he could be called on it.

Down the street, Lena stumbles to a halt, releases Tiago and leans over, curling her arm over her stomach. "…don't be sick, don't be sick…" She appears to have lost a glove in whatever transpired back there. Fashion nightmare!

Tiago is perfectly content, hobbling away from Felix and the Boys in Blue. That's just what he'd need to top of such a horrible day - to be questioned by the cops. However, he's empathetic enough to know that poor Lena cannot possibly go on like this. "Whoa, baby!" He gushes to her, in a hushed voice, before flickering his eyes everywhere at once. It's his initial instinct to want to duck out of sight, and so he tries to tug her in the direction of Hallis' apartment building. "C'mon, baby, let's get out of the street…Aw, fuck, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everythin'."

Fel offers that smile that's more than half a sneer, the one that makes the other cops want to slap it right off his face. Not that they've any love for the Federales at the best of times, and his reputation was none too savory even when he was a plain old cop. "Of course," he says, calmly, offering a nod, and turning on his heel to amble off. Not perhaps coincidentally, in Lena and Tiago's direction. It's not a run, not the seeking pace of a hound on the hunt, but a little faster than he might otherwise. Should either of them glance back, they'll be treated to the glint of the streetlights off lenses, the faint scuff of shoe leather. He's in an overcoat, to all appearances just another businessman deprived of an evening browsing in the bookstore.

The cab stops in front of the building and Hallis spies the battered duo making their way to the door of her highrise. "Oh — poop." She breathes, frowning as she recognizes the woman she so recently dubbed as Miss Bad Hair Day. "Hey, do you think you could drive around the block one more time? I just have to …" Then she grimaces as she spies the giant welt on the woman's head. "Nevermind. Here." She tosses a twenty dollar bill through the dividing window and jumps out of the cab, ready for pretty much anything that woman has for her today. She is content with ignoring them for the time being, and she huddles into her coat a little more.

"What hit me this time?" Lena inquires of Tiago through gritted teeth. Her lips are pulled back tightly, making it seem like she has a mad grin on her face. In fact she's struggling desperately not to unload the Happy Meal she'd had earlier all over the rich people's potted shrubs. So it is that the teenager is looking at the ground while being pulled unresisting after her roommate. There's no looking back, no awareness of being tailed by the spook. There's not even any awareness of Hallis, except perhaps as a potential obstacle.

And then it happens.

Having suffered her second concussion of the week, Lena loses the fight with her stomach. Maybe she zigged when Tiago zagged, maybe her body has just decided to surrender. Whatever the reason, there's a horrid retching noise as the pair closes on Hallis. And before Lena drops to a knee, she throws up. Right at the socialite's designer shoes.

Tiago throws a cursory look behind him towards Felix before ducking into the entrance way. "A…chair baby…listen, get yourself tagether again, 'cause we're goin' ta need ta fuckin' book it in a second, okay? Hey, you alright?" Pragmatism gives way to concern as green eyes fly back to the emo princess, his brows furrowed together tightly. He watches her uneasily as she turns the most fetching shade of green - complimenting his eye color - before losing it all over the pavement. Except…it isn't the pavement. It's Hallis' feet. "Ugh!"

Tiago should probably be a man about it, but his initial reaction is to jump away. Only after that is curbed does he quickly approach Lena once more, resting a hand onto her back and trying to pull back her hair like a good wing man. Hallis is essentially ignored in favor of the poor, miserable roommate of his. He's face the socialites wrath afterwards.

Those shoes are likely worth more than one Agent makes in a month, housing allowance aside. Fel's expression is cool and disdainful as he comes up on the trio - it makes him look bizarrely like Severus Snape. "'She is emphatically not all right," he says, in the clipped and overly precise English of an Agent of another type entirely lecturing a recalcitrant hacker/would be savior of a virtual world. "There's an ambulance right there. I'm sure they could spare an EMT for you," It's a generous offer, save for the tone in which it's delivered.

"Oh. My. God." Hallis says in a low trembling tone as the vomit lands on her feet. "These are NEW shoes you … you… BAD HAIR DAY!" It takes everything she has not to lift her foot and kick the injured woman in the teeth. Probably the fact that she might let some of the level 3 bio hazard fly into her jacket is what staves the punishment. "Why are you stalking my shoes?! I already lost a pair of Pradas to you and now you wrecked my brand new Jimmy Choos!" The woman is hysterical now, and digging frantically through her purse for something.

Lena adds insult to injury by spitting, after the retching has concluded. Of course, Hallis has jumped back by then. But it's the thought that counts. Proving her lack of manners, she then drags the back of her satin-covered hand across her mouth and looks up blearily at Hallis. "…oh. You." The teen doesn't sound surprised. It's been a great week, it's only fitting the rich girl would be here as the cherry on top.

Someone else is here as well, and while Lena fights back to her feet again to resume leaning on Tiago, she peers cyclops-style at Felix. "No ambulance. No hospital. I can't…it doesn't turn off, won't work. Chi? I gotta lie down, are we home yet? This is…not home."

And, fuck. There he is, in the flesh. The Man. Tiago freezes up as Felix approaches, but only for a second. Afterwards, his jaw is clenched tightly, and he narrows his green eyes suspiciously on the man. "We aint got the insurance. No way in fuckin' hell we can afford that shit, and for nothin' too. She's fine, we jus' need ta go home." He decides, in a No Non-sense kind of closed tone. He's absolutely fine with the fact that Felix doesn't approve - technically, they've done nothing wrong. It was self defense!

To Hallis, Tiago's attention slips afterwards, and once again he hardens as the blonde begins to berate Lena. "Listen," he begins, exasperated. "Sorry 'bout that. Go wash it off or whatever. We don't know what you're talkin' about, it's /jus'/ shoes, it aint that big of a fuckin' deal. Jesus." Suddenly, he's had it. Suddenly, he reaches over, and physically carts her off of the floor with a labored grunt, cradling her in his arms. "Don't worry, baby. Uh…we'll be home soon." He's prepared to storm off at this point.

"What do you mean, it won't turn off?" Fel's tone is abrupt, but there's something odd in his face, beyond mere suspicion. Recognition. He looks at Hallis, as if he could simply will her out of the way, but his attention's primarily on Lena. "She's not fine," he adds to Tiago, glancing over his shoulder as if he really does intend to summon one of the EMTs.

Hallis clenches her hands into tight little fists. She had been prepared to try to find the woman earlier in the day, to offer her something… now? She just wanted the two of them to rot in someplace close to hell. The exact opposite direction of the place her beloved shoes went. "You don't wash off Jimmy Choos you piece of … poor.. jerk.. welfarescum…" The small woman is really struggling with not letting out a string of obscenities that would make a sailor blush, so she gives him a string of the dirtiest clean words she knows. Charm school is definitely wasted tonight, no woman in her right mind would let this go. And she won't. Pulling the single woman's best friend from her purse, she lifts it to her mouth and blows. Ahhh the rape whistle, it makes such a shrill sound. Just the perfect thing for calling the police from a block over.

Lena is in no condition to protest being hauled around like a sack of potatoes, and there's nothing left in her stomach to lose. The brunette appears to nod off for a moment as Tiago gets her adjusted in his arms; that poor battered head droops to the man's shoulder and her ungloved arm dangles limply towards the ground. But she's not entirely out. A vague mumble escapes her, echoes of the socialite's tantrum. "…not welfare scum…tha's fuckin' freak to you."

And…there. Now Lena is out.

Tiago would be angry. He /would/ be pissed. But currently, he has much more pressing issues at hand. Looking around frantically, upset, he starts to carry the girl off before noticing the advantageous taxi cab that's just pulled up at the curb. He's practically jogging to it with Lena before anyone else can interfere. The door is quickly opened, Lena is quickly stuffed inside, and Tiago quickly shoots a rather dark, incendiary look over his shoulders to Hallis and Felix. "Fuck you bitches!" He offers.

Not the most mature of folks, but it'll have to do for now. At least he then gets to zoom away in peace.

"Lady, back -off-. She didn't do that to you, personally. And by the look of you, you can sure as hell afford another pair," Fel snaps, even as he looks over to meet the eyes of the uniforms a block away. Shit. "Come back here!" he orders, once he's realized that Tiago is slipping away with a sick Lena. One of the boys in blue is already trotting over. HE does not, however, pull his gun.

If a socialite could growl, Hallis would be doing it right now. This is the second pair of shoes that the woman with bad hair has ruined and in her mind? It's just not fair. "I won't back off! This is the second time she's done this to me! That.. coma inducing mop head!" The woman lets it all out on Felix before she bursts into tears, girly tears. Then she jams her hand into her purse and wrestles her keys out of the bottom of her purse. She flits past the man to the door, of course being held open for her by the doorman. "If anyone calls for me tonight, tell them I'm somewhere far away… like New Jersey!" are the instructions given to him as she slops past in the awful shoes.

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