Summary:Officer Grayson is feeding the homeless to put some feelers out. Gabrielle is clueless about cheese. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
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It's near midday in summer. It's hot, humid, and those that can take shelter in the air conditioning are. For those that live in the Disaster Zone? Air conditioning is the dream of a bygone era.
Well. for most it is. Gabrielle doesn't remember that far back. Her whole life has been the Zone. All six or so months that she can remember of it, at any rate. Dressed in the ragged clothing of homeless chic Gabrielle is scavenging for items near the edge of the Zone, where the City regains control. Or at least, that's what she told those she lives with. Really, she's found a spot with a good view into the city to watch the rest of the world that she really knows very little about.
Her perch looks a bit precarious, but a lot of things look like they're about to fall over in the Zone. She's munching on a stale granola bar. Fruit's hard to come by.
Dick Grayson is hunting murderers. Staten Island, for whatever reason seems to breed the worst of the crazies in this town, and tonight, all evidence of his killer is hard to come by, and so, he goes exactly where most others don't. To the DZ. He's known here, both as a cop, and as a decent enough guy. There's people in the DZ that don't exsist on most radar's, the lost souls of the city, and Dick's done what Dick's always done, made those people feel seen.
Today he's doing the usual, putting out the word, what he's looking for, why he's looking for it, letting his track record speak for itself in terms of what sort of favors he's willing to offer in exchange. And he's doing all of this over food. Lots of food. Free. Food. A few people, ages back, tried to make a thing of it and take the food by force. No one tried that again, and the people that tried still got to eat, though admitedly with sore jaws and in one case a couple teeth fewer then before. He's not 'one of them' so to speak, but he's not 'other' either.
The DZ is a big place, running from Harlem down to Brighton Beach, right through the old UN headquarters so it's possible to have lived in the DZ since it was destroyed and still not know everyone that stayed. So when Dick Grayson shows up in the area, Gabrielle doesn't recognize him. Obviously most of the people do though, and some of those Gabrielle does know.
The blonde haired woman climbs down, not wanting to flash her aura, and joins those gathering around the food. Rising on tiptoes she sniffs curiously, stomach rumbling a bit. The stale granola bar really wasn't enough. The girl with the rainbow-streak in her hair gets some smiles and nods from those that know her as she makes her way through the queue.
The air smells like stew. Thick stew. Beefy with herbs and spices of some kind, and unless her eyes are deceiving her, it's served on a paper plate of all things, ladeled over top a nearly two inch thick slice of dark brown bread, the kind that still smells like bakery the closer to the table one gets. As if this weren't enough, a wedge of cheese the size of ones hand, though only about a quarter inch thick, is dropped atop before the plates handed over with a wee plastic spoon. The spoon size means that unless you just shove your face in it, you have to take your time to eat, and while there's no tables or chairs set up persay, the small intersection he's chosen for this get together has plenty of flat and comfy spots for lounging, be they old smashed cars, defunct benches, or piles of rubble.
Gabrielle Doe waits patiently in line. In fact, when a mother and her children show up the blonde woman waves them in front of her without hesitation. While Gabby's clothes are stained and worn, and her features have the slightly pinched look of someone that doesn't eat three squares on the regular, she doesn't have the tired, even hopeless look that many of the Zonies have. Maybe it's because she hasn't been living through this for the past five years or so.
Getting to the front, she accepts the plate with a smile and a bob of her head, before leaning over to the mom she let in ahead of her. "What's the orange thing?" She asks in a whisper of the cheese sitting on top.
Dick Grayson has been ladeling out soup on bread on plates for about an hour now, smiling, joking, laughing, carrying on, offering up his sincere hopes for information and why he's looking for the bad guy in question. This is the first time he just kinda stop and blinks and then looks around, checking to see if he's being punked. "Uh. Cheddar." he says after a moment, offering a grin, "Cheese. Teh real stuff too, not that boxed junk."
The mother too, looks at Gabrielle like she's asking a silly question. The blonde has the grace to look sheepish, but still not terribly enlightened. "Cheese." She repeats back to Dick, making sure to move out of the way so as not to hold up the line. There's another pause, and then she checks again. "You eat it, right?" She worries her lower lip a bit, knowing it's likely a 'silly question' but once you make the mistake of eating something that's not really food… you like to be sure.
Dick Grayson smirks a bit at that and nods gently, "Yeah." he says warmly, "You eat it. It's really good, promise." because it's frikkin cheese and even the people alergic to cheese wanna eat cheese. Cause it's cheese. He looks a little worried, "You okay?" he asks, seeming sincere in the question as he ladels the next person dish out.
Gabrielle Doe reaches out to break off a piece (somewhat awkwardly as it's partially melted) of the cheese and sticks it in her mouth. Her eyes go a bit wider and then crinkle a bit at the outside edges as she smiles, nodding. "It's good!" She agrees.
The concerned look and question gets a wan smile in return. "Oh, I guess I hit my head? And have amnesia." That's what the people who found her guessed, so it's become her story. Even if amnesia doesn't usually make you forget about things like cheese. "I'm alright." She assures him, like she's had to tell this story many times before. "You're looking for someone?" Because she over heard that while waiting in line.
The rainbow streak in Gabby's hair is pretty noticeable. Even if she's got the homeless look, she's pretty clean and so are her clothes. But a Keen Eye and Silly Amounts of Trivia would know that one, that kind of dye job is expensive. And two, it's vibrant enough that it should be really damned recent. Which doesn't fit with the signs of mild malnutrition about her.
Dick Grayson seems troubled, "Um. It's extremely rare for someone to get amnesia from a head wound, and rarer still for them to forget everyday knowledge like cheese but still remember how to speak the language." he points out. "Are you sure you're okay? Don't need to see a doctor or something?" he sounds a bit worried for her honestly, but picks up on the change of topic and with one last glance, nods his head, "Yeah."
He pulls his shirt to the side, showing the badge around his neck, "Detective Grayson, there's someone I'm looking for only I don't know who that someone is. Thought I'd ask around, see if anyone had seen anyone recently who didn't fit, generally made people uncomfortable maybe? Just someone out of place."
"Oh." Gabrielle seems taken aback at the amnesia information, and then looks sheepish. "I know about as much about amnesia as I do about cheese." She admits. "I just woke up and the people that found me told me that must have been what happened because I couldn't remember anything." When he suggests a doctor she shakes her head. "Oh, no. I don't have any money." Which is a common refrain for Zonies. "And it was months ago. I'm OK now." She just… doesn't know whoever she used to be.
The badge flash has her looking a bit concerned, but not frightened. Or put at ease, really. The cops that Zonies meet can really go either way. Some are nice, like Dick, and others like to throw their weight around. The question gets a short chuckle. "Lots of people that don't fit, but they don't usually stick around. None that I'd say makes people uncomfortable." Panther and Vixen certainly don't fit, but don't make her feel uncomfortable, either. "I get around the area a lot though, so I can try to keep an eye out?"
Dick Grayson lets out a little sigh and fishes a card from his pocket before handing it over, "You change your mind, you let me know. I know a place that'll see you for free if you like, good doc, she's been my physician for longer then I care to remember." he grins at the card, "It's a business card, has my work number on it." he clarifies, in case she didn't know what it was he was offering. He just hopes she understands the concept of numbers.
When she talks about keeping an eye out he nods, "If you wouldn't mind, but be careful, only keep the eye out. Don't go playing cop and trying to investigate, this person could be dangerous and I don't want anyone getting caught up in their business. Speaking of… have you tried to figure out," he points at his own head as if he could indicate his own brain that way, "who you were before all this? I'm pretty good at my job, might could give it a go if you want?"
Gabrielle Doe has to juggle things a bit, not wanting to put down her plate and not wanting it to spill any, so she can accept the card. She has a look of concentration, but not confusion at least. "OK. Someone will probably let me borrow their phone as long as I don't talk long." When he makes sure to tell her not to go chasing the bad guy, she flashes him a bright grin. "I'll be safe." She assures him. Which.. isnt' the same as saying she'll steer clear.
The blonde's head cants over as he suggests seeing a doctor again. "It was months ago. I don't have any injuries anymore." Unless you count the *amnesia* of course. When he suggests he could find out who she is, she seems surprised. Like looking into who she was hadn't really occurred to her. "Oh. You can?" She gives him a smile like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. "That would be nice." Then the smile falls, like the clouds returning. "I'd hate to have family worried about me."
Dick Grayson watches the fluid emotional shifts on her face, how unguarded they are, and inwardly winces… that's not a great trait to have out here. "I can't promise anything mind you, but there's a chance at least. You mind if I snap a couple of photos? If you like I can take some fingerprints too, see if someone claimed you as missing, put you in the system so you'd show up if anyone ran across you." or she was found floating in the river. Whatever.
"Sure!" Gabrielle's manner is definitely open. Trusting. There's not even the usual girly worry over how she might look for a picture. It's honestly surprising she hasn't been dragged off by someone or beaten down by the living conditions.
She does look a bit thoughtful. "I guess I could try to call you later, to see if you found anything? If you show up here regularly, I haven't noticed." She admits. "The Zone's pretty big." And she has no phone. No permeant home.
Dick Grayson just shakes his head and chuckles, "You'll be easy to find." he points out, motioning to her hair, "And like I said, I'm good at my job." which is a bit of an understatement, but hey, modesty is sexy they say. He holds up his own phone, "Say 'cheese'." he quips with a little quirky grin, and snaps a couple photos before swipping about and then showing her a blank screen, "Each finger on the pad, roll it about slowly, it'll scan the prints for me and I can run searches once I get back to the precinct." or before then, ya know, cause HES BATMAN!! Well. Not really. But close enough!
Gabrielle Doe really does say 'cheese' when he asks her too. In some ways it's like dealing with a child, but somehow still having some maturity to her emotions and way more patience than any child has like, ever had.
Her food finally does have to be put down, and she finds a safe spot to do so that she can guard with the placement of her body. Obviously she *is* used to having to fend off fellow scavengers. It takes her a bit to figure out how to get her prints down for Detective Grayson. As she hands it back she finally seems to remember to introduce herself. "I"m Gabrielle!" She offers him her hand, very official-introductions like. "Well, that's what the people who found me decided to call me, since I didn't know my name."
Dick Grayson grins at her a bit when she actually says cheeeeeese and shakes his head a little bit. It's… cute, in a weird scary kinda way. Endearing. Like a puppy. He takes her hand in his calloused own and gives it a firm shake, "Dick." he says, "No jokes, I promise I've heard them all." he returns to idly ladeling stew onto well breaded plates, best to keep the line moving before people get to antsy.