You were just sitting on the shelf...

[Ms. Lucy]

She remembered being behind that door. It was tall and narrow, seeming frail despite it's symbolic nature. The only pathway in or out...and so far, she had been stuck inside. It had been about adaptation, survival of the utmost rare; continuation of the healthy psyche. They had tried, and succeeded, in breaking so many...but she would not allow the same fate to befall her. Inside she had crept, finding peace in the solitude, but not immediately, oh no. Her darkest days were some of those spent behind the linear shadows of a cell. The black lines had almost seeped into her skin, carving away the creases of her personality, trying to smooth her into another cookie-cutter woman to be accepted by the populous. Her mind had been swamped in emotion; Self loathing, regret, anger of betrayal. In the trials she had sat not but some twenty feet from the back-stabbing blond, and a thousand times she'd murdered the woman in her mind. The gavel had struck...and suddenly five years of her life had been taken, with just a flick of the wrist. Those rabid teals had lifted to her condemner...flocking over the shamed expression that had been given back. Annabelle knew what was to come, and at that moment, the creole knew what her best ally was in this moment of crisis...and that was time. The doors opened, and she awoke to a dark night and slipping satin sheets. It had been a slick road, mucky and exhausting, but here she laid, above a gold mine of power, corruption, wealth, and notoriety in the making. And still, she had so much time...so much to do.

[Ms. Lucy]

It would be a slow and rather unclear path that Lucy would weave after gates at Rikers closed behind her. Her life, from years before, was literally in her hands; Vinny slacks were around her waist, even his suspenders on her shoulders, her old wallet and clutch...everything from the moment they'd caught her beneath The Church. It was as if her whole world had simply been paused, like a film strip gnarled in a projector. Only until now had it been tangled, finally pulled straight along the track. The pictures were flashing again, but they were so radically different.
Nothing had been paused...five years rolled by the prison island and she was reliving the gravity of what had happened. It was just as heavy as the first day. There'd be no final glance to the building where she had been cooped up with wings clipped. Footprints along the dirt road leading out to the ferry would be the last mark of Lucy Black for the next year.

~!~
September in Chicago stung at the skin. Cold wind seemingly stabbed at the cheeks, making the cities inhabitants red faced for the season. Lucy had been a shell, hollow but existent once the doors behind her had closed. Even behind those bars, she had known who she was, more than ever before in all actuality. Hours of time with one's own mind could be maddening or enlightening, sometimes turning to both a bit. But, with the sun, the bleeding sky as it fell back into the earth..it made her shatter with the realization things were dead. All that happened in the prison had absolutely no footing, no availability for propulsion on their own in this world of freedom. She was just that girl from the bayou all over again. The first hurdle was the most difficult, being unsure whether to stomp or step. New York was dead to her now, and so with a bit of the money she had left, she went as far as it would take her...Chicago.
Remo "Fingers" Vasco had been a bit shocked at the sudden loss of his job over his vacation with Ruthie. It had come as a shock to him first of all that now he had nothing to do, and second of all that the woman he'd worked with for several years was suddenly in prison... God, it was a close call that he didn't get caught too, he was glad he'd quit using his name on all the transactions, just to avoid this kind of thing... It had been five years, and Remo had been hard at work. He and Ruthie... It was a nice thing, but it didn't last. They'd been forced to split ways, due to the passion with which he pursued medical school. Ironically, school that she insisted he pursue. But it had been a long five years, and a lonely five years, and here he was with a degree in medicine, and the certificate and knowledge to go with the skills he'd been forced to hone working for Vinny. And here he was, working in a town a few miles south of Chicago, as a small-town Doc. Who would've guessed?
Lucy Black's rather frail mind had dove into darker places in those first few months, having no contact with family or even the rest of the community. It was routine, as she had been trained in the past five years; wake, eat, work, read, sleep. A few small jobs occupied the time slots; shoveling asphalt, grave digging, janitorial. With her background, and foreground of darker skin, there was only so many options. She was a husk; obedient, conforming, constant until one Monday night. Her apartment in the northern side of the city was left in ruin; broken radio, ripped curtains everything was eviscerated, save for the bed. After that moment, the Cajun disappeared, and finally resurfaced a month later in the southern portion of the city, unrecognizable. Hiding from the sun had left her far paler, pastels were unified instead of deep gem stone hues of her previous adoration. There was an elderly building gaining new life in the community, and wouldn't you know, every morning she'd be out front, observing it's construction.
Remo "Fingers" Vasco had spent the last year or so tending to this small town's needs more than his own. he was a doctor something like 70 hours a week on a slow one, and relied on his amphetamines to keep him going and keep him the chipper small-town doctor they were so used to. Eventually, he got a phone call from one of the few contacts in the city he still trusted, a man he'd grown up with since they were little, one who'd never been in contact with Vinny's corrupting influence. And that phone call gave him the number and address for a one Jolie La'Veau. A piece of information that left Remo shocked, above all else, that some remnant of his old life that he enjoyed might be restored. The woman he respected who, in the past, stood next to the man he didn't want to remember. Of course he'd give her a call!
Lucy Black was in the quiet of the late evening. Listening to her brother's down stairs, hooting, hollering as they took their evening meal before the work would begin again. Things were drab now, dusty and incomplete...well, at least not up top. In the latest weeks, the building had been easy to renovate. Painting, laying of wood and carpet had gone without much of a hitch. It seemed the building had been abandoned on the demure basis of poor plumbing. That was the first thing to get fixed. All was pristine outside, save for a bad lock on the door. She was lounging on her lone sofa; enough was being put into the building, furniture could come later. Long lashes were about to shut and snooze for the hours, only to wake up to instant gratification. The boys would most likely get the stairs carved out, and the hallway beyond...then came the shattering ring of the phone. She huffed, having been unaware they'd installed that already. A blind hand reached up the wall, pulling her along with toward the mouth piece on the end of the cord. "Bon-oui?" Was answered in a sleepy tone.
Remo "Fingers" Vasco would hear that voice, almost surprised that the Cajun was on the other end. He'd half-expected it to be some kind of prank of Frankie's! He grinned after a moment's silence, speaking into the phone. "Well I'll be damned, I wasn't sure I'd actually get to hear your voice again, Lucy..." There was no question in the tone of voice who it was, though the language had evolved a little over the years. "I thought you weren't due out for nearly another year yet!" And now his grin was spreading across his face. Maybe some trace of his old life, something that he could go back to after five years of nothing relating where he'd been to where he was... It would be nice, for sure...

It wouldn't be long before the good doctor was in town, his building being set up while he adjusted as the Squares newest practitioner. The first portion of her jigsaw was in place.

[Ms. Lucy]

Months had shed, and the Cajun was growing impatient with each second passing. It simply couldn't come fast enough..progress; an illusive, almost fabled thing it seemed to be to Lucy. The whole grand hall had been carved out, tiled, and furnished by the Black Brothers. All the while Primrose's newest addition needed menus. Half the entire inventory had been brewed beneath her green house. Massive firing pits filled with boiling kettles, all while above a pipe fed into a series of cold and warm water stills. Moonshine, vodka, wine, they'd all been meticulously pined over, nearly every detail and moment of their lives tested by the anal retentive woman. Everything couldn't be perfect enough. Paranoia brought about fear of another failure, another tragedy... and fear could be a motivating thing.
Smaller wings for things like storage and aging were added as inventory numbers began to grow. Her batches became larger as she rushed through. These completed brews could only wait now, requiring maturity to be perfect. Another month...one too many. The Church had gained gruesome amounts of wealth, and such treasures had been spoiled, most taken away for fines, and for the ties to illegal practices. Only a meager fortune had remained. That and free labor had been saving graces, but these wells were running frighteningly dry now.
Patience, it was a virtue, right? She had a hard time believing it as days wasted away with the pace of an entire lifetime. Remo offered enough fine distractions with his affections and available time, but now even opiates were not satiating her (it made sense, the drug slowing down time further for her). It was then that Remo wouldn't see his secretly adored Cajun for a few days, and then suddenly, she arrived on his doorstep, bags in hand and the Ford waiting behind her.
"Take a few weeks off...cause I know you'll be wantin' ta' come wit' me..."
The sunny shores of Broward County and the Boheme awaited.