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The next thing she's going to do, she thinks, is buy a new messenger bag.
Rachel Conway is standing at one end of a trail of her personal belongings, on a sidewalk in the middle of Grant Park. She was walking home, shifted her bag on her shoulder, and the next thing she knows the clank of metal and the thump of non-metal on concrete is heralding ( Read more... )
Rachel Conway is standing at one end of a trail of her personal belongings, on a sidewalk in the middle of Grant Park. She was walking home, shifted her bag on her shoulder, and the next thing she knows the clank of metal and the thump of non-metal on concrete is heralding ( Read more... )
Comments 110
She catches Rachel out of the corner of her eye and raises a brow for a moment before setting aside her birdseed and getting to her feet and rushing over.
"Oh Honey," she says quickly helping her gather up some of her things. "You all right? Nothin' but the bag hurt?" She knows Rachel didn't fall or anything but it never hurts to check. You never know when some random object might fall on your foot or something.
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She bends her left arm and cradles a few wrenches against herself, freeing up her right hand. "This is terribly nice of you," she says, and she manages to hold back the surprise that might otherwise creep into that statement. This city isn't always known for kindness, especially to strangers. "I really appreciate it."
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She considers something for a moment, though she still keeps gathering stuff. "Hey,, do you need another bag? I got some free time and it seems like maybe you could use somethin' good. At least let me get you a cup of coffee or somethin', if not a bag."
Millie is probably one of the friendliest, most giving people you will ever meet. One day it's going to bite her in the ass but the narration doubts she'd actually learn from the experience.
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--couldn't possibly. The protest is ready at her lips but she bites it back; it's rude on her part, a kind offer on this lady's, and in a city where kindness isn't always the rule she really shouldn't argue.
She lets out a breath and nods, giving in. "That'd be really nice. Thank you. My name's Rachel."
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"Just one of those days, I imagine?" She asks with an apologetic smile as she starts to make a small pile of assorted items, slowly making her way down the line. "I've had a few of them, myself. Let's get this mess sorted and see if we can't find you a sturdier bag in a pinch."
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"Yeah, no kidding." It's nice, though, that in the middle of all this bustle--it's a big city, and people are just too absorbed in their own needs sometimes--that someone's willing to stop and help rather than just walk on.
"Anyway, thank you. I really appreciate this."
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"Yes, I'll be back in just a moment." And before the woman can think to object, Helen is off on a quest. Don't worry, Rachel- she'll be back shortly.
[ooc: This is me- remembering that I've owed this for a million years. I'm sorry. If you want to drop it, I'll understand <3]
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Well. All right. She'll just. Wait here, then?
She does just that, a bit bemused, carefully balancing all the items she's got gathered in her arms.
[ooc: No worries! I don't mind backtagging ever. :D]
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He pushes up from the bench, and crouches down to help her pick things up. He doesn't know how she's going to carry them again, but he figures that he can at least try to help.
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But she knows Chicago. She knows it's a big city full of people who are just too busy to deal with anything beyond their own needs and destinations, too wary to get too close to a perfect stranger. So she's surprised, and pleased, when someone crouches beside her and begins helping her gather up her spilled belongings. Perhaps chivalry isn't dead after all.
"Thank you," she says, offering an earnest smile. "This is really nice of you."
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He stands once they've finished gathering everything and just ... continues to hold it all in his hands. He doesn't know where she wants him to put it, so he'll just hold onto it for now.
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She gets back to her feet, shuffling the things she's holding so she can reach for her bag, hanging uselessly at her side. The bottom's fallen out but what if she makes that the top? She can get her things home that way, surely, and deal with this properly once she's there.
She shakes out the bag and upends it, dumping her belongings back in. She's about to suggest to her helpful friend here that he do the same, when she's interrupted by the unmistakable sound of velcro separating.
Oh. That's right. The bag's only got a small velcro closure on the flap.
The disaster plays itself out all over again, on a smaller scale.
"...Okay, then." She sighs, and bends to fetch her things again.
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Chicago is... something else.
He hesitates, stopping in front of her a moment before kneeling down to help her pick up the items that she's lost.
"Hey, did you need some help?" Lucky picks up one of the tools on the ground and almost smiles. It's not everyday he runs into someone carrying one of those around in their bag. "With... your wrenches?"
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He's already started anyway, he's holding a wrench, so it's not like she could really say no, get out of here even if she wanted to. And she doesn't want to.
She glances over as he's holding the wrench. "I'm a car mechanic," she says by way of explanation.
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He smiles at the explanation.
"Oh. And here I was thinking you... maybe liked to hit people with one of these when they deserved it. A new... form of pepper spray," Lucky says with a small smile as he gathers up more of the items into his arms. A flash light and a screw driver. "How did you end up getting into that field?"
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"Being a mechanic? The Rift did that. I was a book editor before--I mean before I came here."
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