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Post by hal on Aug 18, 2010 20:23:48 GMT -5
It was sunny out. Really sunny out. Hal thought it was funny that Mr. Sunshine decided to moon the world the one day he decided to visit Criso Joe. Especially since Joe cursed the sun nearly everyday when he was alive.
Hal, being the man that he was, sat perched on Ol' Joe's headstone, his false leg extended in front of him. Joe was always ragging Hal on how his falsey always stuck out. "Like one of dem faintin goats" was how he put. Of course, Joe had followed it up with a lot of "kid" puns.
That's why Hal called almost everyone kid. He was known to Joe as 'kid'. At the time, Hal hated it, but now he wanted it back.
He felt too damn old. Everyone else was kid and he, like Crisco Joe had been to him, was the old man. That's why he liked cars.
They didn't have opinions.
They didn't call him old man, cripple, gimpy, stumpy, Long John peg leg...
He was just the bastard who tore them apart and built them up.
Hal tilted his head back and squinted at the sky through his shades. It really was bright out. And hot. Every second he spent in the sun made him feel like he was turning into the Roid-Rage version of George Hamilton.
That was one person that Hal beat in the looks department.
"So, Joe..." Hal talked to the sky because he had assumed that that was the direction Joe had headed. Of course, that one "fuck da church" could have landed him a front row seat down stairs.
Heeeeeere's Satan!
Screams instead of applause, bodies instead of curtains, Don Imus instead of a microphone...
"My leg hasn't regrow yet. Still a...what's the word...? Unipedal," Hal nodded affirmative to himself. "Got a kid to work in the shop. Caught him getting ready to trash the place. Name's Sodapop. Weird ass name for a kid if you ask me," Hal tried to think of any other news to tell Ol' Joe. "The kid's from another shop that I apparently ran out of business. Good kid, still has a lot to learn, but a good kid.
"Met a Wall Street lady too. I don't know if I like her or not. She's pretty, I guess, bit rude and snippy, but she's okay....That's all that's happened really. Oh and there's a rocking musician I met in Central Park. You'd like him I think. But other than that, nothing else new in my life.
"'M still me,"
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JOHN "DOOLITTLE" MOREAU
High Class
The Island of
Dr. Moreau &&
The Story of
Dr. Doolittle
"A Peculiar Gentleman"
Posts: 60
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Post by JOHN "DOOLITTLE" MOREAU on Sept 29, 2010 14:32:20 GMT -5
John strolled into the cemetary.A blue and yellow figure flew behind him.
<I thought I asked you to stay at home> John spoke in the muted caws and croaks of ravenspeech. It seemed appropriate.
Polynesia responded in English, though she kept her voice fairly low."John how am I supposed to leave you alone, especially in a cemetary? Has another study caught your eye hmm? Have you turned to necromancy??" The last words were mor muted than the first."
Doolittle responded in English. "No Polynesia I don't plan on leaving my current studies, let alone to rob graves in a study more ghoulish than my previous studies. This is personal."
"It has to do with The Island doesn't it?"
"Yes. Now please I would like some privacy." He was glad that Polynesia didn't make any snide jokes. He was also glad that she returned home when he asked.
He sat on a nearby bench and removed his jacket. It was an unusually warm afternoon. John looke at the scars which ran up and down his arms.
"I know that you're in a different cemetary so I'm proboably saying it more for my benefit than anything else. I know I haven't had a chance to visist your final resting places in England. But I swear I'll go and visit once my responsibilities here are taken care of." He continued in a voice a little more than a whisper. "Once I can bear to return to England."
He stared at the scars which ran up and down his arms. They were his souvenirs from The Island. A monstrous monument to his own hubris, his own monstrosity. The Island where his parents died. The scars which reminded him everyday that he was responsible for his parents deaths.
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Post by KATHERINE MINOLA on Sept 30, 2010 20:43:14 GMT -5
Katherine walked slowly through the plots looking at each marker in turn while cradling a bouquet of infant sunflowers her arms. Each stone was smooth polished marble and delicate, flowery writing. They were beautiful, but not what she was looking for. She found what she was looking for near the edge of the cemetery grounds; a small square marker, simple in design and scripture. There was just one line carved into it:"Maria Minola,1950-1982"
'Hi Mama. It's me again." Katherine spoke quietly, smiling at the stone and carefully placing her bouquet in front of it. "Dad's doing good from what I can tell. Bianca's...well Bianca. Singing, modeling, she does whatever she wants. Usually something that makes her the centre of attention." The ends of her mouth twitched up into a faint grin as she said this. "I'm sorry I haven't been visiting more frequently. Work's been getting busy. Lots of financial advising...it's like all of a sudden every business-minded schmuck wants to play the stocks or start their own business. Oddly enough my social life seems to have improved now of all times. Well, okay, I met one guy at a club bar. Granted he's a car mechanic and has one leg, but he isn't put off by my temper or my acid tongue and he almost as cynical a I am. As close to a perfect match as I can get, don't you think?" Katherine asked, grinning broadly at her mother's grave stone.
She looked up from musings and was mildly surprised to see two others in the cemetery with her. The first was a stranger to her, a man in a fine suit with a parrot sitting on his shoulder and flying off a minute later. A strange sight, but who was she to judge people and their pets? She talked to her cat on a regular basis. Her eyes wandered to the other person in vicinity. Her surprise returned when she realized it was Hal. Who's he visiting? she wondered to herself as she watched him perched on a grave stone, talking to the sky. She stood there watching him, resisting the urge to interrupt his private visit...
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Post by hal on Oct 1, 2010 17:33:19 GMT -5
Hal kept looking at the sky, trying to think of something else to say to Joe but there wasn't anything. His life was pretty mundane, pretty boring for the most part. Hal looked away from a passing cloud and looked around him.
There was a dude with a parrot on his shoulder.
What.
The.
Hell?
And when he turned his head the other way, Katherine was there. Hal wondered who she was talking to, or visiting if she wasn't like him. He enjoyed talking to the dead, not everyone did. Hal considered getting up and going over to talk to her but decided against it.
Cemetary's weren't for socialization.
Hal patted Joe's headstone one more time and hauled himself to his feet. He wobbled then stumbled a little because the ground was pretty unever but he didn't fall down. Which was good.
He had a hell of a time getting back up when he did.
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JOHN "DOOLITTLE" MOREAU
High Class
The Island of
Dr. Moreau &&
The Story of
Dr. Doolittle
"A Peculiar Gentleman"
Posts: 60
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Post by JOHN "DOOLITTLE" MOREAU on Oct 4, 2010 14:32:58 GMT -5
John took out a thermos and poured himself a spot of tea. He spotted a man that almost fell down. He walked over to the man. "Maybe I can be of assistance, sir?"
Inwardly he almost chuckled at the absurdity of his situation. Here he was away from Polynesia and the first thing he does is what she's been telling him to do ever since they came to New York. Maybe it was the location. Maybe he was just being a gentleman. Maybe it was organized by fate. Maybe he recognized a kindred spirit in the man. He didn't know why he did it.
"My names John, by the way."
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Post by KATHERINE MINOLA on Oct 14, 2010 16:05:43 GMT -5
Katherine was about to leave when she saw Hal stumble as he tried to get up off the tombstone he was sitting on. Without a thought, she scampered towards, but stopped short when she saw that the stranger had reached him first.
"Maybe I can be of assistance, sir?" She heard the man say with a fairly prominent English accent. She finished making her way to Hal, who hadn't actually fallen, but was regaining his balance.
"I think he's okay," Katherine said to the man as she went over to Hal. "You okay Hal?" she asked as she turned to observe the man. He seemed very well dressed, but not snobby, like the English businessmen or aristocrats who came seeking her firms help with their American investments. In fact he seemed quite the opposite. Polite, and perhaps even a bit timid, like he didn't speak to people too often.
"My name's John, by the way."
She smiled politely, acknowledging the introduction, but not replying, knowing that it was directed at Hal, not her...
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Post by hal on Oct 16, 2010 13:17:30 GMT -5
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Hal gruffly waved both John and Katherine off. Their concern was touching and all that shit but this wasn't his first rodeo. Fifteen years ago he would have fallen on his face and just stayed there like a damn turtle stuck on its shell. But, now that he's a little more practice, Hal could probably ice skate if he wanted to. He doesn't, but if he wanted to, he could. But, as it was, ice made Hal very nervous. It reminded him of his mother and how she turned her back on him. She was the Queen Ice Bitch for sure but that wasn't why it reminded him of her. When he was in the hospital all she did was get him ice. Forget talking to him or telling a nurse when his stump was burning. Once he was steady, Hal held out his hand for the Englishman. "Hal Cooper," He wasn't sure why a guy from England was in a New York cemetary or where the Hell the parrot went. But, being the man he was, Hal let it go. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm good. The damn knee doesn't bend, that's all," Then, turning to Katherine, "What are you doing here? I thought your sould belonged to Wall Street," Hal grinned to make sure that she knew he was fooling around. His voice wasn't very good at conveying emotions. |
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JOHN "DOOLITTLE" MOREAU
High Class
The Island of
Dr. Moreau &&
The Story of
Dr. Doolittle
"A Peculiar Gentleman"
Posts: 60
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Post by JOHN "DOOLITTLE" MOREAU on Oct 18, 2010 17:46:48 GMT -5
Doolittle took the man's hand and shook it. Then he realized he hadn't put his jacket back on. Which meant if the man hadn't noticed the scars on his arms before, he and the woman would definitely see them now.
He thought again about what had happened on the island, and then about hearing about his parent's demise. Then he heard the man's comment to the woman.
Apparently she worked in the financial sector. Doolittle filed that information away so that maybe he could contact her later about the sale of the island. It definitely couldn't hurt, but here was not the place and this was not the time for such business.
He turned to her. "I'm sorry I didn't see you, I'm Dr. John Doolittle." He kept it formal in case she and Hal were involved.
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Post by KATHERINE MINOLA on Oct 19, 2010 19:51:26 GMT -5
"What are you doing here? I thought your soul belonged to Wall Street."
Katherine grinned broadly at Hal's remark. "My soul may belong to Wall Street," She said, "But my mother's doesn't. I came to pay her a visit."
She turned to the Englishman, who had extended his hand to her.
"I'm sorry I didn't see you, I'm Dr. John Doolittle."
He seemed to perk up at Hal's comment. Maybe he was looking for an accountant or financial adviser or manager of some sort. It wasn't her concern anyhow. He seemed like a reasonably polite person, more-so than anyone else she'd spoken to recently, Hal aside. Katherine took his hand in a firm handshake. "Please to meet you. I'm Katherine. Katherine Minola."
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Post by hal on Oct 24, 2010 21:16:16 GMT -5
Hal saw Doolittle's scars but didn't comment. He knew what it was like to have some sort of...defect. And then have people to stare at it like idiots. Hal made a point of looking him in the face. "So, what brings you here? We've got a mom and a grumpy old mechanic to visit," Hal shrugged and put his hands in his pocket. He slouched carefully so he wouldn't fall over again. The ground around here was starting to piss him off. Hal should have brought his cane. Even though he hated the damn thing it would keep him from toppling like a drunk of his ass frat boy.
Hal leaned against a large headstone that was next to him. "Sorry...Priscilla Maywhether Hartford, but I don't want to be your neighbor any time soon," He situated himself so he was comfortable and so his false leg wouldn't randomly slip or buckle. "Didn't mean to interrupt. Just don't want to fall, or almost fall, again,"
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JOHN "DOOLITTLE" MOREAU
High Class
The Island of
Dr. Moreau &&
The Story of
Dr. Doolittle
"A Peculiar Gentleman"
Posts: 60
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Post by JOHN "DOOLITTLE" MOREAU on Oct 25, 2010 13:27:45 GMT -5
"Reflection mostly, and a promise." If asked for detail John would definitely give it. However it was still personal.
He looked upwards and noticed a raven perched in a nearby tree. How fitting a dark bird to accompany my dark mood.
Of course since ravens were one of the more intelligent birds it was possible to have some kind of a pseudo conversation with it. However it wouldn't really do to make himself appear crazy in front of his two new acquaintences. "Excuse me, I feel a bit of a chill. I'll just be off to grab my coat."
As he walked towards the bench and his jacket he was stopped short by the raven croaking one word. "Moreau"
He turned back to the raven and started to speak in ravenspeech. <Who are you?>
The raven began croaking once again. <You don't remember me? You're first success? You took me from Oxford, you left without me. You made me what I am not man yet not beast. You stranded me on the island and you shall pay!> and suddenly the bird swooped down at Doolittle
Doolittle raised his arm to protect his face and tried to grab... anything... with the other. "Damnit Leave me alone I've changed my ways."
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Post by KATHERINE MINOLA on Oct 25, 2010 19:16:45 GMT -5
Katherine watched, befuddled, as Doolitle was seemingly attacked by a raven.
"What the hell?" She said quietly to Hal. "Well that's something you wouldn't think to see in a cemetary. And is it just me, or did he hav a parrot on his shoulder earlier? Odd guy. Polite, but odd." She smiled, happy to see her drinking buddy again.
"So how've you been Hal? And how's that arm of yours?"
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Post by hal on Nov 7, 2010 17:59:55 GMT -5
Hal stared at the random bird attack and agreed with Katherine. What the Hell? That was how Hal say Doolittle it seemed. Mr. What the Hell. He nodded at the question about the parrot before answering her teasing question.
"Arms good. Quit hurting a yesterday. Now it's the leg," Hal tapped his jeans just above the prosthetic limb. "Some crappy front is coming through or something. Things hurting like a bitch,"
When he saw that the bird hadn't let up on Doolittle, Hal swatted at it. "Hey, shoo. Buzz off. Damn diseased sock puppet,"
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JOHN "DOOLITTLE" MOREAU
High Class
The Island of
Dr. Moreau &&
The Story of
Dr. Doolittle
"A Peculiar Gentleman"
Posts: 60
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Post by JOHN "DOOLITTLE" MOREAU on Nov 8, 2010 19:52:35 GMT -5
The raven flew away when the man charged it. He cawed angrily. <I'll be back, and I will have my vengeance>
"Thank you Mr. Cooper I think I've spent enough time here."
Seemed just like his life, as soon as he gains the tiniest bit of closure another part of his past swoops out of the shadows to try and claw off his face. In this case, literally. He felt something wet trickling down his cheek and once he brought his finders back down they were red.
"I should probably go and see to these scratches."
Of course it was only partially an excuse, but he did curse himself silently for the fact that he didn't carry a first aid kit with him he was a Doctor after all.
(((Exuant Doolittle)))
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Post by KATHERINE MINOLA on Nov 13, 2010 19:07:14 GMT -5
"What the hell just happened, Hal?" Katherine asked, totally baffled, as Doolitle, scratched and blodded by a raven of sll things, scampered off.
"Well, that just made my day a little more interesting." She said as she grinned at Hal. "I'm sorry about the leg. There's no telling what weather'll be like this time of year. Perfect and suuny one day, shitty and soggy the next." She smiled up at Hal, glad to find a familar face in such a solemn place.
"If you're up to it, would like to go for a burger and a couple beers? You know, to toast the dead?" Katherine hoped he'd agree to it. She was hungry, and slightly depressed, as visiting her mother always made her. She needed some cheering up...the kind that didn't come by sitting home alone with the cat and watching movies all evening.
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