Wendy Berber: *monday afternoon. Mr.
Robertson had given her the rest of the day off.. Told her to check out china
town.. get out.. get some sun.. and so here she was, adrift admist the crowd.
Her sweater sagging at the base of her rump, small black shoes shuffling and
catching on the narrow sidewalks as she peers around self consciously from
behind cokebottle thick glasses*
Troy Lawrence [PB 4]: The man makes his way
down the street, his hands folded behind his back. It's a surprisingly slow
Monday for the man, and so he finds himself out enjoying a few moments in the
fresh-ish air. His expression is calm, almost seren, as he makes his way down
the street.
Wendy Berber: *Irate mandarin gets her
attention, as she realizes she's wandered into the middle of some sort of tile
game, eyes getting wide as she makes to hastilly back out, cringing and
apologizing* I'm sorry sir.. .. I'm so sorry.. I didn't see it there. I'm
sorry.. I hope i didn't um. mess anything u- oh. ok. ok.. I'm going. I'm so
sorry sirs.. *she backs blindly away from the angry gamblers, barely missing
bowling into troy*
Troy Lawrence [PB 4]: He pauses as Wendy
nearly backs up into him, frowning and taking a step back. Dark green eyes lock
on the bookwormish girl's form, and he makes an idle clearing of his
throat...not disapproving, necessarily, but far from friendly. The man had
difficulty with that particular affectation outside of the courtroom. "Excuse
me," he intones, watching the girl closely.
Wendy Berber: Oh! Oh gosh.. I'm sorry..
oh.. *its all blurted out before she ever even sees him, stumbling to turn
around on a swollen ankle, wobbling, and going stiff with a sharp intake of
breath as she sees just who it is she's stumbled into. her eyes quickly draw
away from his face, head tilted slightly* .. I'm so sorry - sir. *her hands curl
into her sweater, dissappearing*
Troy Lawrence [PB 4]: He quirks an eyebrow,
looking over her a moment, before he inclines his head toward her, expression
cool. "No harm down." His head tilts, noting her stumbling steps, and he pauses
just a moment. "Are you quite all right?"
Wendy Berber: um. yes sir. its a sprain
i think sir. *well.. considering its twice the size it should be... thats
likely. she swallows and looks to the sidewalk, twisting the dingey wool of her
sweater into knots* um. sorry sir.
Troy Lawrence [PB 4]: He opens his mouth
to...mollify her, perhaps? Placate? Perhaps even reinforce that she should be
such? But he stops, instead just acknowledging with a slight nod of his head.
"Do you require assistance?"
Wendy Berber: um. no.. Its ok sir. *she
shakes her head slightly, becoming smaller. easy to do, that sweater looks 4
times too large.* um thank you sir.
Troy Lawrence [PB 4]: He frowns a little
bit as she shrinks down a little further...one of the doormats of the world, no
doubt. He nods a little bit, eyes casting up and looking around, before going
back to her. "Allow me to escort you somewhere."
Wendy Berber: kay sir. *she nods, easy to
get along with this one. Agreeable in the extreme. She shifts her weight to her
other foot, as standing is making it throb painfully*
Troy Lawrence [PB 4]: A hand gestures down
the street, indicating that the woman walk along at his side. He turns and
starts to head in that direction, his pace slow, so as to not get ahead of the
girl. "What is your name?"
Wendy Berber: *she stumbles along besude
him, eyes on the ground, shoulders hollowing a little. of course he wouldn't
remember. maybe its better he didn't. she says in a small precise voice* Wendy
Berber sir.
Troy Lawrence [PB 4]: He pauses a moment,
the name coming up from the depths of his brain. He remembers...Battery
Park...his brain too filled with Rage that day. But the name is vaguely
familiar. "We have met before." A statement, neither needing or expecting
confirmation, even as vague as it is. "A pleasure to see you again, Miss Berber.
What brings you to Chinatown today?"
Wendy Berber: um. I have the day off.
sir*she says quietly, shuffling along beside him. a stumble sends her into the
young woman in front of her, and she cringes*
Troy Lawrence [PB 4]: A hand snaps out to
catch her, just after she collides with the woman in front of her. The young
lady's scowl is met with an apologetic look from the young lawyer, who then
looks to Wendy. "Are you sure you are all right to walk? Perhaps we can catch a
taxi somewhere, or we should take you to have that ankle looked at."
Wendy Berber: *oh.. was that a question..
she's silent a long moment, not looking in the mans direction, twisting her
sweater in bony hands. was that a dismissal? a Command? * um. its ok sir. I can
take a taxi home?
Troy Lawrence [PB 4]: His lips press
together in a faint line...he puts a hand out to wave down a cab. "We will get
your ankle taken care of." She will not decide, so he will for her. The cab
stops, and he goes to the door, opening it up for her to enter, intending to
follow after.
Wendy Berber: *she presses her lips
togather in response and gets into the cab quietly*
Troy Lawrence [PB 4]: He slips into the cab
and shuts the door behind her, looking to the driver. "DA's Offices, please."
Once the cab is off, he looks to her. "What happened to it?" An even stare to
her...vaguely curious.
Wendy Berber: I um. fell sir. *repeatedly.
everytime you try to walk. she dosn't bother to add that, staring at the ugly
grey skirt in her lap*
Troy Lawrence [PB 4]: "I see." He nods a
little, sitting comfortably in the cab. "Excuse me a moment..." He leans over a
tiny bit to look over the wounded ankle. "It looks like a bad sprain...have you
sought medical attention for it yet?"
Wendy Berber: .. um. no sir. Sorry sir.
*she plucks at her pleated skirt* I didn't want to um. bother anyone, sir.
Troy Lawrence [PB 4]: "Consider this, Miss
Berber. Which is more bothering...that you ask for aid when you are wounded, or
that you stumble into people and cause yourself pain?"
Wendy Berber: .. um. yes. sir. I'm
sorry sir. *she cringes and nods* kay.
Troy Lawrence [PB 4]: "Good," he says,
waving her apology away. "Now, then...off to my Office. We can at least get you
a makeshift splint, until we can find someone who can heal it further. Do you
have a guardian in the city?"