Jan 09 10:38:31 109 PA - Clarification of Charity Group at Yakov's

From Chronicles

Jan 09 10:38:31 109 PA.

YAKOV'S DELI

Dis laterink in da evenink, perhaps as late as 22:00. There are a few lights on in Yakov's Deli. He is sitting at a table, flipping through a few books and comparing notes between these notes. He has a large plate of pasta in front of him to the side. He is working through his notes, more than his food.

The door opens, and yes it's late. Gabriel enters, with an ancient-style greatcoat blowing forward so that it nearly wraps him in a cocoon before the door is closed. He makes his way to the counter, peeling off the large pieces of warmth as he goes. "Stroganoff, please. And a glass of medovuha."

It ain't late. Not fer most people. Ok. Some people. Like Bella. Course maybe she's just tryin ta get outta the snowy rainy stuff. She shakes her umbrella off when she gets in.

As the words from Gabriel flow through the air, no one seems to react. Well, there is only Rasputin in the deli, and he is totally engrossed in his research. Rasputin himself doesn't stir until some sort of little voice in his head triggers action. He blinks, looks up at the two new people and chuckles. As if on auto-pilot, he walks over and begins to fill the order. One which, most would have thought he hadn't heard. He does this silently, not actually addressing either of you yet.

Gabriel meets Rasputin with a smile. "Dobryj vyechyer!" Then, "Sorry, I still don't remember much more after my little travel. How's business these days, with the gangs running around for the Ivory Lady? Scaring away customers?"

"Hiya." Bella pipes up atta boys. Smirks too. "Gangs ain' nothin new inna Dregs. 'R they comin out 'ere too?" She ain't thinkin so but she's curious anyways. "Whatcha eatin?" That's after she walks up to 'em.

Rasputin shakes his head, and keeps making food. He quickly serves up some Stroganoff and a tall drink. He grins, "Net, net. No gangs havink comink here justink yet. Dhough, mink am on edge of da Dregs. Dhough, somedays dis gettink bad. I just giving peoples food, dhus it dis goink good." He grins and looks at Bella, "Anythink at you?"

With his greatcoat now a huge mass of fabric in over his arm - so thick it almost looks like it could stop a bullet - Gabriel happily accepts his food and drink. "Good to hear, Rasputin." Then to both, "These gangs running around with the psi-cola. Picking on poor innocent girls who don't know any better. Or not bright enough to know better. I'm glad they're not hanging around outside the door. How's it going, Bella? Wanna come and, a... meet some of those guys?"

Bella shakes her head. At Rasputin. "Nah. Already ate." Then she's poppin uppa brow at Gabe. "Meet some'a what guys? 'N it's goin Ok. I guess." A li'l shrug.

Rasputin grins and looks at the fabric which Gabriel has under his arm. He carries the pasta dish over to a table for him. And sets down the drink, "Da, you doing sewink?" He eyes Bella and nods, "Da, OK." He smiles, "Da weather doink OK for you boths? Snow dis wet or dry."

"No, no. Already sewn. I ordered it custom, it's basically a German greatcoat from the war," Gabriel replies. "The snow isn't so bad. Or the rain. Hell, last year I only had what I'm wearing inside this coat and the jacket." He opens his next layer to reveal a third layer. The black clothing that he wears in normal weather. His gaze then turns to Bella. "You forgot? Meeting the psi-cola guys? Beating the crap out of them?" His eyebrow arches. "You sounded pretty excited about it."

"Oh. Those guys." Bella smirks. "Yep. Can meet those ones. Maybe they wanna grab me. Sell me fer somethin?" She cocks her hip. Slaps her hand on it. Grins. "how much ya think I'm worth."

Rasputin nods slowly, "Da, da." He smiles, and shakes his head, "Goodink coat." He ponders, "Mink needink a new suit, who did your tailorink? Mink was lookink for one with more protections, da. Are you knowink if da tailor does dhat?"

Gabriel waves it off, slightly bashful. "Oh, just a nice woman up in the Plaza. They've got dozens, but she had a nice attitude, even though she was more expensive. I like to support good folk." Maybe is gushy, but it's true. He's a fantastically good guy most of the time. "Are you looking for armor, Rasputin?" Bella receives a wink and a grin. "Yeah, those guys. I dunno, cost? It's not looks really, it's what you're willing to do. There was this place in Constantinople, where... um, never mind." He starts over to where his food is sitting.

Bella smirks s'more. Cause Gabe stops 'n heads off. "Ain' gonna shock me none." Then she's eyein the short guy 'gain. "So. Yer lookin fer fancy clothes't'll keep ya safe too? Betcha somebody's got stuff like that. Maybe lotsa people." She shrugs. "Always people wanna look good 'n be all safe 'n got lotsa creds." Then she's sorta headin after Gabe ta find a place ta put her butt.

Rasputin nods slowly, "Da, da. Mink will be havink to lookink it up, so mink can be lookink for better suit." He shrugs a bit, "Dis, nicink to be havink some betters covers if mink needink it, da?" He grins, "One mustink always beink prepared da."

After Gabriel has slid into his seat and savored the aroma for a moment, he looks back to Rasputin. "There's a guy named 'Fizzlesnoot' who hangs around the Merchant's Plaza. Lives and works out of a beat up van. Little guy's ugly as sin, but he's a tailor. I asked him to make a protective suit for me, but I guess he doesn't have the gear yet to handle the really heavy fabrics. You know, the kind that stops laser blasts and such." He pats the seat next to him, indicating a place where someone might put their butt. Then? He digs in with a fork - held exactly right as the wealthy do - and starts in on the stroganoff.

"Bug guy likes ta hang out atta Lady too." Bella grins. Plops her butt. "Watchesa girls 'n stuff." She shrugs at Rasputin. Pats her jacket. "Got this. But ain't nothin all fancy."

Rasputin nods slowly, "Da, da. Mink am always nearink da Dregs. Mink likink to havink back up plans, da." He grins a bit, "Kindkink like how mink lookink up of various solutions to people's problems. Mink never likink the wronk solution, all are fickil." He shrugs a bit, " He pours himself a mug of coffee and then he looks Bella up and down. He grins and tugs his beard, then looks over Gabriel and shrugs.

Gabriel notes the simple shrug with a nod, and enjoys more of his stroganoff, washing it down with some honey mead. "Seems like if trouble ever came this way, you could just flip your tables on their sides and board up the place until help came, Rasputin."

Bella shrugs too. "'R just give 'em food? Ev'rybody's gotta eat right? Saw people get beat 'r dead fer less." That reminds her 'bout earlier stuff. "Talkin bout beatin up." She unplops her butt. "Oughtta go 'n see bout meetin those guys." Now she's grinnin. "Maybe be fun seein if they wanna grab me 'n trade me fer somethin."

Rasputin shakes his head a little bit, "Net, net. Da windows are beink glass, buttink most everthink else can take a bit of abuse." He shrugs, "Carefuls outtink dhere, never knowink whom you might run into," as he says this his eyes turn towards Bella. He thinks a bit, "Just takes a one or twos peoples with da rightink toys, and it dis becomink dangerious to da kids."

"Unless you're very well trained, strength in numbers can always eventually beat you," Gabriel says. Then pauses. "Even for very well trained people, strength of numbers can eventually beat them. If there are enough." He looks over to Bella. "Don't drop the umbrella, it's getting nasty out there. Remember the galoshes and don't jump in puddles." Perhaps it's just a set of automatic warnings coming from a father.

"Ok. Daddy." Bella's thinkin the same thing. Kinda. "Don't get all worried. Gonna watch out fer monsters too." She pokes her tongue out at 'em both. 'Tween her fangs. Then she's headin back out. Pops the umbrella back up 'n open before she's out the door.

Rasputin shakes his head as Bella leaves, "Refill?" Is all he says to Gabriel, and tugs his beard in thought.

The man from the past looks at his mug and nods happily. "Sure, thanks, Rasputin." After leaning back so as to be out of the way, he asks, "So you spend all of your time in here, or in the museum, studying for... the ultimate magical spell?" An eyebrow is raised. "I'll never understand those kinds of things. I still have difficulty figuring out 'is this your card' magic tricks," Gabriel admits with a chuckle.

Rasputin he fills another tall frosty pilsner glass with the sweet nectar, he brings it over to you, "Net, net. Some times mink am huntink Dino's or makink suits of armor out of dino hides." He grins and looks to the door, as if to see the ghost of Bella still there.

"Oh? I've never been on a dinosaur hunt. Hear they're pretty tough though. Can't just be a normal fucking animal, right?" Gabriel blushes? No. But he does apologize. "Sorry. I just find it odd that everything on the planet with the exception of the small game that I snare - and not even them all the time - can't be killed with anything less than a Ma Deuce at best, and usually far more."

Rasputin chuckles softly, "Net. net. Some thinks will just lookink at you and you die." He keeps looking out the door, then tugs his beard again and looks to you, "Dhough, once you takink down a dino, you can be makink some good hide armor out of its. Dhough, net environmental." He shrugs, "Buttink many likes it. Of course mink has to find dhose buyers." He smiles.

"Rasputin, I think that I may be the weakest man around who still likes to fight the good fight. Certainly the oldest human, I'd wager. I need all the armor I can get, even if it means stuffing myself inside those damn suits." Gabriel shakes his head, frustrated. "Yeah, magic, psychics - that's why I live outside the city walls, where no one bothers me. Some days I think that I'll just stay out there, only come into town to buy a few bullets. Otherwise? Just live." He shrugs sadly. "There aren't enough good people around. Everyone's a mercenary. Everyone's fighting for the benefit of themselves. No one gives a damn about the other guy. Present company accepted."

Rasputin chuckles, "Net, net. Mink not sure mink carink all dhat much for others. Just sometimes good business is net easiest for ones self." He shrugs a bit, "Dhough, if mink am able to be gettink together another dino huntink, mink will invite you. If you are interested, da?"

"Sure, I'll come along," Gabriel says, finishing up his stroganoff and pushing it away. "I could use some money right now, I'm trying to help out the Hope for Humanity folks. I don't suppose being a good shot to take out something like an eyeball is useful anymore?"

Rasputin tugs his beard, "Hopink for Humanity?" He looks to you and ponders a moment, "Aren't dey da human supremist groups?" He thinks a few moments, "Or are dhey somethink else?"

"No, no. 'Humanity' defined not as 'humans' but as the quality of being humane. Kind. Benevolent to other beings. Not the advancement of homo sapiens. Not at all." Gabriel emphasizes the last statement with a hard shake of his head. "They're good people, and they're without a leader." He begins to scoot out of his chair and says with no apologies, "I'm trying to fill that gap, as no one else has stepped forward, and I've had decades of experience organizing things. But no, not human supremacists." He stands and starts to pick up his plate.

Rasputin nods slowly, "Oh," He tugs his beard then ponders, "Dhat is all we are needink, supremacists." He shakes his head, "Of any sorts, da?" He chuckles, "Did you wantink somethink to go? Or are you havink to run out."

Gabriel looks at Rasputin for a moment, perhaps unsure of what the dwarf said. He clarifies, "Yeah, they're *not* supremacists. But, ah... sure, I'll take this in a doggy bag, if you have one. I do need to be heading out, though. Looks like there's a break in the weather, makes it easier to get home."

Rasputin nods, and quickly packs up the remainder of the food with a little extra into a small white cardboard box. He grins, "Da, da. You are beink safe, da?" He tugs his beard, "And if you are thinkink about a good taylor, dhen pleasing be tellink me." He grins and slides it over.

Gabriel slops off a non-salute with a smile. "Will do. Fizzlesnoot, up in the Plaza, try him. Thanks for the food, Rasputin. Good talking with you, as always. 'night." Then his greatcoat is on, his meal tucked beneath, and he's out the door.