2023-03-17 Investigating Derrick Houghton (High Hopes PRP)
Investigating Derrick Houghton
Storyteller: Elyse
Location: Skid Row – High Hopes Needle Exchange
Date and Time: March 17, 2023 9:22 AM
Summary: Felicity follows up on the new needle exchange mentioned as opening up in Skid Row, especially since it seems like they're also handing out drugs to people for medication-assisted treatment. She gets a feeling for the proprietor and notes an odd presence.
High Hopes Needle Exchange is deep in the heart of Skid Row, on Winston and Wall. The day is already starting to heat up and a small crowd of the local indigent are starting to crowd outside of the building. The building itself is fairly squat, occupying what was once an old storefront. A neon sign buzzes merrily above the door in a swirling yellow cursive. Flies buzz fat and lazy around the door. There is a stench like sewage coming from a nearby alley, then a crash followed by the sound of laughter.
Five of the unhoused addicts are joined by two more, then another two. Derrick Houghton pulls open the shutters to the door and unlocks it. He steps out and holds up a hand in greeting. Derrick is a tall light skinned black man with short-cropped hair and hazel eyes. Handsome, he has an easy kind of demeanor and leans just outside of the door of the facility. "Come on in, folks! We got some donated bagels today, and coffee's in the waiting area! Veronica will get y'all situated."
There are no windows looking into the facility, likely in compliance with HIPAA, but who knows. As the population starts to mill in, a couple remain behind. Derrick also remains outside, his face turned towards the sun, eyes closed.
Well, the outside looks fantastic, and there's nothing out of the ordinary here. The addicts are doing normal addict things, and when the door opens they go on in to make use of the services offered. Felicity is on the outskirts of the crowd, watching and waiting in a simple outfit. Pastel pink tank top, denim shorts, and a pair of black flats that are, at this point, hanging on to her feet via hopes and dreams. She watches as the crowd files in, letting the others funnel in first. She'll follow after to find this Derrick fellow.
Only, she doesn't have to go inside. Mr. Houghton is right there enjoying the sunlight. That was easy. She approaches and offers a hand covered in plant soil. "Good morning! Mr. Houghton, right? I'm Felicity Nash, one of the locals here. Gardener, counselor of sorts. I wanted to ask you a few things, if you have the time."
Derrick is dressed in a blue polo shirt tucked into a pair of khaki pants. He has on a set of work boots and wears a simple watch with a black band. He turns his face towards Felicity, eyes still closed. There is a beatific smile on his face. Opening his eyes, he looks her over and takes the dirty hand with gusto. His face breaks into a wide, honest -- and slightly disarming -- smile. "Miss Nash! Derrick Houghton, yes." He pumps her hand twice. His hands are rough and calloused. He has a strong energy about him, like he just photosynthesized from the brief time his face was in the sun.
"Do you want to come in? I think it's gonna get hot out there soon. Also," he gestures towards the alleyway. "One of the manhole covers got cracked by somethin' last night." He has a warm voice, a little rough around the edges, like someone who's smoked for a long time and is just coming out of it. He holds the door open for her and waves her in. "We got air conditioning," he says temptingly.
+ROLL/+DICE> Felicity: Perception + Empathy vs. 6 -> 2 successes. (9 7 3 3 3)
Felicity returns Derrick's handshake with equal fervor, countering his disarming smile with one of her own. Countering? Matching? Matching. It's not hard to convince her to come inside, what with the air conditioning and possibly fresh bagels. "I did wonder what that loud metallic sound was last night. Wonder what it was."
Once inside, she stretches and aaaahhhhs at the sweet, sweet feeling of cool relief from the blazing sun. "You really should advertise the air conditioning more. This is great. Maybe even better than the needles." A joke in good fun. "It's not a bad idea, this. Honestly, I've regarded this as an enabling thing, and I prefer to help my fellow man off the hard stuff, but gotta admit, it beats dying of some stupid disease. So, right, what else do you do besides offer food and safer needles?" She's got an eye on those bagels, and is drifting on over to them. The only thing stopping her from grabbing one immediately? Someone's already there picking them over.
They aren't quite fresh bagels, but they're not very old either. The interior of the place looks like a clinic, albeit one that was converted from a storefront. The floor is an off-yellow linoleum; there is a row of plastic seating where a small section for shopping baskets once was. From the inside. One of the cash wraps has been transformed into a counter behind which a woman sits -- presumably Veronica. She is a young Afro-Latina woman with her hair in protective braids and pulled behind her head. She offers Felicity a wave upon entrance. The lighting is soft white; it looks like the fluorescents have been replaced by recessed lighting. Overall, this is a fairly expensive operation.
Something about Derrick seems off. It isn't so much his authenticity in his mission as he speaks, but in his presentation of who he is. He is desperately attempting to seem professional while also seeming like he's part of the fabric of Skid Row. "I can see your perspective, and yeah. It's better than dying from a disease. People will use regardless. I know I did," he glances down at his feet briefly. Felicity can catch a touch of shame in his eyes.
He brings his gaze back up. "We -- well, so we have a doctor who gives us methadone and suboxone. He isn't really affiliated with the clinic, but he's also interested in helping recovery. That's the thing, right?" And he leans in to speak a little quieter to Felicity. "We offer a safe place to use, but we have a lot of people here who can talk about the benefits of stopping use, then if they go ahead with it, we offer medication-assisted treatment." Which, considering his admission, would be illegal to offer as there is no licensed physician monitoring it.
There's a bit of time before the bagels are uncontested, so Felicity takes that time to size Derrick up. Take in his words carefully. Return Veronica's wave. Glance back at the bagels. They're free. She grabs one, plain. Carrying it around as they talk. "Alright, alright, I like it, I like it. And hey. Don't be ashamed of your past. You're here now. Be who you are, yeah? Seriously, you've got a great setup. One-to-one exchange, right?"
She's paying more attention to the setup at this point, admiring as much as inspecting how the place is set up. It is, indeed, a lot of effort to set this all up. Was it a lot of money? It looks like a lot of money. A lot more than twenty bucks, that's for sure. Huh, shoulda brought a Glass Walker along to appraise the cost of the operation. Oh well, maybe next time. "This place is pretty fancy for around here. You guys must have a lot of money for charity work. Not that I know much about it, just 'money buys things' and 'more money buys more things'." She's making an indirect attempt to see where the money's coming from with that question, whether it's 'their' money or if someone else is supplying it.
Derrick takes a deep breath and sighs; he nods and says, "Thanks. I'm used to people not understanding. You know, who haven't been there themselves. Maybe I'm being too hasty," he offers a brief half-shrug. "You're a counselor, right? You interested in work? We have some extra capital."
This place is absolutely worth a lot of money; the whole operation seems to stink of some benefactor, but it's hard to see any tell-tale traces of what that might be. Methadone and suboxone are not usually drugs people sell on the street, so signs would point to some kind of pharma company. Or maybe something else?
"Well, like that doctor I mentioned, we have a few wealthy benefactors. Mostly those types, people who want to see the population of Skid Row get clean." There's something there, then. He shifts his eyes away from Felicity for just a moment, his body language closes off briefly.
Felicity can also feel the eyes of Veronica on her, staring.
A door opens and someone in scrubs calls two names. Two of the people waiting in the plastic chairs get up and walk through the door.
+ROLL/+DICE> Felicity: Wits + Streetwise vs. 7 -> -1 success (Botch!). (4 3 2 2 1)
+ROLL/+DICE> Jupiter: 5 vs. 6 -> 1 success. (7 4 4 3 2)
+ROLL/+DICE> Felicity: Perception + Empathy vs. 6 -> 1 success. (9 8 7 1 1)
+LOSE/+BURN> Felicity burns 1 Willpower.
+ROLL/+DICE> Felicity: Charisma + Subterfuge vs. 7 -> -1 success (Botch!). (6 6 4 3 3 1)
Felicity holds up one hand. "I'm not licensed by any means. High-school dropout, actually, there's a reason I'm here and not in Beverly hills. I'm just good at talking things out with people here. Lots of experience helping people out with things that most of society shames them for. It ain't right, man." She reflexively rubbernecks back to look at Veronica, her face doing some weird twitching - probably just a homeless tic, amirite - before looking back to Derrick.
"Work sounds useful, but..." Her turn to be shifty and somewhat closed off. "...ah, you know, part of me likes the freedom of not being formally employed. You know? Ya learn to find where the free meals and shelter are. Thanks, by the way." Nomf. She wastes no further time in demolishing the bagel she'd picked up earlier. She pauses to think some, rubbing her chin, then smiles with a subtle nod. "I can come by unofficially? The people here know me, I know them, we wouldn't have to start fresh. Pay me in bagels, even. One condition - no set schedule. Like I said, I like the freedom I've got out here."
+ROLL/+DICE> Felicity: Perception + Empathy vs. 6 -> 4 successes. (10 10 9 7 5)
Veronica does not deviate her attention from Felicity. She watches the Ragabash intently. It is not entirely with malice, but there is some level of suspicion in her gaze.
Another couple people walk out with little baggies. They pass Felicity and Derrick. The latter raises a and calls out, "Jimmy, Aggie! See you both next time." He looks back down to Felicity and smiles again.
"Pay you in bagels? Sure. I think that would be--" Veronica clears her throat and Derrick looks towards her.
His eyes widen almost imperceptibly but Felicity picks up on it. His mouth tightens. His hands tighten at his sides. There's a sharp intake of breath. Derrick is deeply afraid in that moment, a near primal terror.
"Derrick," Veronica says, her voice sounding both sweet and condescending at the same time, somehow. "I think we should let Miss Nash get on with her day. We probably have enough volunteers, don't we?" An odd thing for the receptionist to mention to the proprietor, for sure, but Derrick could just be an unorganized guy -- despite all the contrary evidence that he seems quite well put together.
"Y-yes," he says. Was that a stammer? He looks back at Felicity and tries to recover his good humor. "Sorry Miss Nash, if you wanted to work here as an employee, I think that would make more sense. You're always welcome to help the folks who come here, but not -- ah -- in here."
The dark eyed stare of Veronica turns back to Felicity. She smiles, but it doesn't touch her eyes.
+ROLL/+DICE> Felicity: Perception + Alertness vs. 7 -> 4 successes. (10 10 7 7 4 4)
When Felicity introduced herself to Derrick, she was outside. The air conditioning is VERY loud. It would have been impossible for Veronica to overhear them.
Felicity sighs a sigh of lament. "Ah well. It's not a worry. If I can't help in here, I'll just keep helping out there." She times her head-nod to Derrick to come with so that it looks just like she's merely showing what her words meant. "Like I said, you got a good thing going. Thanks for humoring me, Mr. Houghton!" With that, she offers a handshake and takes her leave.
She ends up about two feet down the sidewalk, perched on the curb. Did Derrick get the hint?
Veronica's eyes never falter from Felicity, and Derrick picks up on the hint.
The door closes and shows Veronica's reflection in the window, still staring out the door. Derrick reaches into his pocket and takes out a pack of cigarettes -- a cheap brand, Seneca Menthols. He places one between his lips and attempts to light it, but his hands are shaking. He turns away from Felicity, almost like he's blaming the wind. He gets it lit eventually, head ducked in towards his chest.
Taking a drag, he breathes out the smoke heavily, his lungs sound a touch wheezy. "Beautiful day," he says in a quiet voice. "So you help all these people normally?"
Turns out, Felicity was tense, and her shoulders slouch visibly when she and Derrick find themselves outside. Away from the harpy scrutinizing them. "I do. And I can tell you a few quirks. Let me see. Gerald, balding guy who looks like he works in accounting, he has this thing where he won't let you come near if you have your hands in your pockets. I'm assuming it's trauma related. Bettyanne..." She goes on and on, discussing various people, general habits, how to get them to trust him and his personnel. Which ones are lost causes. There's always lost causes.
Then -- she checks to make sure that air conditioner is still going WHIRRRROROROROROOAWR -- then she asks a burning question in a hushed tone. "There's something bugging me. You run this place, yes? Why are you so afraid of the woman at the desk?" She tries to offer genuine concern for Derrick's situation.
The clinic manager nods at Felicity's words; he even dutifully takes out his iPhone and pops open his notes app, writing in what she shares with him. He's very professional, Felicity can see that he's using abbreviations for names, and no identifying data. "This is great, thanks, Miss Nash. I appreciate the input. I spent some time not far from here before gettin' clean, and," he trails off. "Well, let's just say I didn't get to know folks very well. Lost in my own world."
The air conditioner is loud and whirs heavily to act as their own private white noise machine. The sun beats down. It would be very nice to be inside that clinic again, wouldn't it? In the cool air?
"Veronica?" Derrick laughs. He rubs some sweat off of his forehead. "Afraid of Veronica? That's ridiculous. I mean, she's my wife's sister, and she's judgmental as all hell, but why on earth would I be afraid?" He takes a drag off his cigarette and ashes it.
+ROLL/+DICE> Jupiter: 5 vs. 7 -> 2 successes. (10 9 3 2 2)
<OOC> Jupiter says, "Perception + Empathy vs 6!"
+ROLL/+DICE> Felicity: Perception + Empathy vs. 6 -> 2 successes. (8 7 5 4 3)
Derrick is lying, both about being afraid -- as Felicity knows -- and about Veronica being related to him. He's cagey, and yet he desperately wants to say. He taps something into his phone and holds it down at his side.
It says: "Not Here."
Felicity takes one glance at the phone, then nods at Derrick. "Ahh. Didn't mean to probe. It's just, I didn't survive on these streets this long by trusting any old thing that came along, you know? But, if it makes you feel any better, you pass the sniff test." She asks for the phone briefly, and if allowed, will tap-a-tap something of her own: "King Eddy's. I'm a regular."
As if nothing unusual happened (which is exactly the case shut up), Felicity gets up, gives Derrick double-finger-guns and another disarmingly bright smile, and says, "Good luck with your clinic! Don't work too hard, now." And now she's off for real.
He does allow her to take the phone and takes it back when she finishes. "Thanks for your contact information, Miss Nash," Derrick closes and locks the device. He gives a very quick nod and responds with another smile. This one is slightly more troubled than it was when she first met him. He watches Felicity leave; someone passes by him and pushes through the door. The louder sound of the A/C and the bell on the door causes him to jump. He turns and says, "Hey, Gerald," pulling his hands out of his pockets. "Nice to see you, man."
He hesitates at the door, takes a deep breath, paints on a smile, and pushes through.
To be continued in The Case of the Acidic Man!
