2008-02-04: I Remember Now


Sophie_icon.gif George_icon.gif Sierra_icon.gif

Summary: George and Sierra remember a recent press ganging. Sophie, fresh off an accidental power boost, remembers it for the first time.

Date It Happened: February 4, 2008

I Remember Now

Give 'Em Hell Kid Arcade, Midtown

The arcade is chaos, but it usually is. A noisy, crowded place of running teens and children, flashing lights, dings, roars, and such. But in the middle of the chaos, something you don't see here TOO often. One woman kneeling, weeping in a heap, and one who seemed to be just recovering from a similar situation, slowly staggering to her feet. And one man, carefully talking to both of them.

As usual, George is fiddling with a cell phone on his way in - not that he wants to be, but certain callers don't want to wait. Fate steps in and cuts off the signal, though; with a shrug, he puts it away and steps inside. After a quick look around, his attention turns toward that trio near the center of the room. Trouble, that is.

Sierra steps slowly into arcade, following shortly after George. What was she doing here? Well, meeting up with someone from work. They were supposed to be meeting her here anyway. They had to bring their kid along, so this was as good a place as any. At least the kid would be entertained while they visited. That was important, right? Sierra doesn't notice the people in the centre just yet, her eyes more keen on finding who she's meeting.

Sophie rubs her cheeks, looking dazed and, frankly, scared. She is saying, 'I think I need to get out of here.' in that almost distant, detached voice of someone on the edge of screaming.

Equally unaware of Sierra's presence, George heads over at a fast walk, his attention drawn first to the woman with enough presence of mind to speak up at least a little bit. Unwinding from the work day can afford to wait a bit longer. "You need some room?" he asks, glancing back toward the exit and sizing up just how many people are currently milling around in the way.

Sierra sighs deeply. "Where is Maggie?" She mutters softly. With a soft snort from her nose, she starts to move further into the arcade. He eyes, then, rest on people crying and the like. "Well…could prove interesting." She murmurs softly, heading towards her and George. "Is anything the matter, hmm? Can I help?" Her French accent evident.

Sophie backs away as the man approaches. She frowns, raising her hands as if to protect herself from something. She mutters about bringing supplies, and all the cameras, then tries to shake it off. Finally, overwhelmed looking, she darts for the door, taking off into the city.

George blinks, caught off guard by the suddenness of Sophie's departure; he ducks out of the way, and motions for others to do likewise. Some take the hint. Others don't, and are frantically muscled aside. Funny, he was just thinking about that impromptu press conference the other day, and—

"Oh, hey there," he offers, finding himself face to face with one of his more persistent questioners. Oh, great, so it's going to be one of those days, is it?

Sierra nods slightly to Sophie as she heads out, shrugging. Well, if she doesn't need help, then se doesn't need help. Then she brightens as she sees who is there in front of her. "Ah, bonjour! And how are we today?" And of course, that is only the first question that she could possibly ask. "How is Mrs. Petrelli's trip to the hospital going? I do hope she's doing better. I'd hate to think that she'd be worse."

"In acceptable condition, last I heard," replies George, quickly coming up to pace. A good thing, too, as Sierra is getting right to the point, same as before. "I trust the media will display the appropriate respect for her privacy, of course."

Sierra nods firmly. She likes getting to the point where the news is involved…most of the time, least ways. "Ah, but we at the Queens Gazette have nothing but le utmost respect for the privacy of everyone. Though I am curious if Madam or Senator Petrelli are going to speak soon again about the accident? Another press conference perhaps? Or perhaps I could arrange a one-on-one?"

George inclines his head. "Let me get your card, Ms. —?" A brief gap there, indicating that an unknown name is to be filled in at the usual spot. "I should be able to arrange something." Whether it's a one-on-one with the famous family themselves, or just with one of their convenient front men such as himself, remains to be seen.

Sierra ruffles through her purse for said card before finally getting ahold of one. She holds it out for him. On it, it reads 'Sierra B. LeBlanc, Journalist, Queens Gazette', as well as two phone numbers (one for office and one cell) and her e-mail. "Sierra LeBlanc." She says, introducing herself verbally as well. "If you would be able to set something up, it would be greatly appreciated. Of course I would keep privacy in mind, and try not to delve too to much into the personal level." She smiles sweetly. "Just straight-forward questions."

George nods, taking a pen out of his shirt pocket and jotting down a quick scrawl of some sort on the back of the card. "Straightforward, right," he replies, instinctively smiling more than usual as he studies the reporter up close, and without the pack of hyenas (erm, rival journalists) to distract from matters. "So what brings you here tonight— pursuing work, or trying to escape it?"

"Oui, straightforward. Not like some of le journalists who traipse around and say something like 'Does this make you want to become president?' or 'What about your policies on the treatment of child soldiers in sub-saharan Africa?'. To the point, about the accident." States Sierra. She smiles sweetly at him. "Well, I was meeting a gal from work here. And I know, the last thing you probably want is another person working for a paper here, but it is just a get together." She grins. "We are here to have fun. Not work. And you? On the news and at press conferences, you do not seem the kind to come to an arcade."

"Yeah, that's the idea," replies George, "I'm taking a break too. I can use one— there's been a lot of long days lately, what with the transition and all." Which presents the surface appearance of substance, without actually saying what that transition is having to deal with. Looking impish, he continues: "And policy on the age of recruitment is a little out of our jurisdiction. Now they start doing exercises on domestic soil, then you may want to check with Homeland Security, just to be on the safe side."

Sierra smiles a little. "Ah, a break. Than I sorely do apologize for asking you questions about Mrs. Petrelli! I should not have done that. How rude it was!" She gives George a look over. "So, are you here all alone?"

George leans sideways against one of the building's support columns. "I'll try to forgive you," he teases. "And yeah, I was gonna meet up with a group somewhere else, but one of them had a relative come in for a visit on short notice and it kind of fell apart from there."

Sierra gives a little sigh of relief. "I am very glad. All I ask is that you try." She smiles softly. "So you're spending la whole night alone, then? I am sorry to hear that! Really, I am. Why don't you join myself and my friend? She won't mind, honestly. I'd love to have you around…and not just because you work for the Senator." She grins and gives him a wink.

With a grin of his own, George nods and straightens up - then realizes that, as yet, the friend has yet to materialize. "Well, I wouldn't want you to have to risk spending the night alone, either. So where are we headed?" he asks, staying close enough to avoid getting accidentally separated by passersby.

Sierra's phone buzzes. When she flips it open, she reads and grins. "You see, my friend was going to bring her child, now she's getting a babysitter…so, looks like it's a night on the town. Do you know any good places?" She grins widely.

George scratches his head. "There is this one dance club, not too far off— draws a weird crowd sometimes." Especially the first time he was there; since then, it seems to have returned to comparatively normal. "You go out dancing at all?"

Sierra nods firmly. "Oui! I absolutely love dancing!" She says happily. "Can we go there? I'll tell my friend to meet us there?"

George nods and starts toward the exit, staying alongside Sierra on the way. "Just tell them to look for the helix outside, they can't miss it."

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