Butterflies In The Sky

Participants:

elaine2_icon.gif lene_icon.gif quinn3_icon.gif

Scene Title Butterflies In The Sky
Synopsis Coincidence, an unexpected meeting, and a confession.
Date April 14, 2011

Central Park

Central Park has been, and remains, a key attraction in New York City, both for tourists and local residents. Though slightly smaller, approximately 100 acres at its southern end scarred by and still recovering from the explosion, the vast northern regions of the park remain intact.

An array of paths and tracks wind their way through stands of trees and swathes of grass, frequented by joggers, bikers, dog-walkers, and horsemen alike. Flowerbeds, tended gardens, and sheltered conservatories provide a wide array of colorful plants; the sheer size of the park, along with a designated wildlife sanctuary add a wide variety of fauna to the park's visitor list. Several ponds and lakes, as well as the massive Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir, break up the expanses of green and growing things. There are roads, for those who prefer to drive through; numerous playgrounds for children dot the landscape.

Many are the people who come to the Park - painters, birdwatchers, musicians, and rock climbers. Others come for the shows; the New York Shakespeare Festival at the Delacorte Theater, the annual outdoor concert of the New York Philharmonic on the Great Lawn, the summer performances of the Metropolitan Opera, and many other smaller performing groups besides. They come to ice-skate on the rink, to ride on the Central Park Carousel, to view the many, many statues scattered about the park.

Some of the southern end of the park remains buried beneath rubble. Some of it still looks worn and torn, struggling to come back from the edge of destruction despite everything the crews of landscapers can do. The Wollman Rink has not been rebuilt; the Central Park Wildlife Center remains very much a work in progress, but is not wholly a loss. Someday, this portion of Central Park just might be restored fully to its prior state.


It's hoodie weather today, or at least that's what Robyn Quinn thinks, partly cloudy and mildly windy as it is, wearing a dark green, black Juliana Theory t-shirt, and jeans. Spring's still fresh, and it hasn't quite gotten as warm as she would most prefer, but that hasn't deterred her for stepping out for the day, a trip out to Central Park in mind. Really, it worked out that today was her day off, if it hadn't been she would have made it her day off, since she couldn't take Friday and have a long weekend. The skies aren't the only thing a little louder today, and she needs the fresh air to clear her mind, to help relax her. To get her out of the apartment for a little while. Not that she came alone; walking alone in park gets old fast, and… really, she just couldn't bring herself not to have Elaine around at the moment.

A red acoustic guitar hangs around her back, a freshly reapplied finish glistening and sparkling as the light hits it's custom red sparkler design. Okay, so walking may not be the only reason Quinn picked the park, but she'll get to that when she gets to it. For the moment, it's just about walking, mostly allowing ELaine to lead as her head cranes upwards and at the clouds, occasionally pointing at one andc commenting about what it looks like. Like that one! "I think the sky's writing a song," Quinn muses, pointing upwards distractedly. "That one looks like a crotchet." a quarter note, "and I think I see a bass clef…"

Elaine's got a sweatshirt on, hands shoved in pockets. Her hands get cold easily, so she occasionally steals Quinn's hand to stick into her pocket to help keep her own hands warm. It's good to get out, at least, mostly because she needs a clearer head. Fresh air helps with that, sometimes. Peering up at the clouds, the redhead laughs. "Robyn… you're such a dork. You just see what you want to see. Need some odd story for why you're writing a song or something?"

Around the corner, sunglasses blocking her face, a small brunette heads their way. She too is in the hoodie that seems requisite in this weather, this one a Hot Topic special, Invader Zim variety, lime green and purple and pink, garish against black skinny jeans on petite legs. Red Converse chucks carry the pedestrian toward the duo, but she doesn't seem to notice, her hand on an iPod as she apparently adjusts its volumes or picks a better song.

As Quinn looks up at the sky, the blue and white canvas grows suddenly more colorful as three butterflies suddenly flutter by, giving chase in a dizzying dance — red and green of wing, they are not of a variety indigenous to New York — and on closer look, they appear… well, unnatural, as if made of light.

Behind the duo walking, footfalls sound softly, then stop suddenly.

For a moment, Quinn's pretty sure she just sees sunspots. She has been staring up at the sky for a bit now, after all, and the sun has caught her gaze more times than she'd be like. Unlike some photokinetics, looking directly into light still hurts her eyes a whole freaking bunch, vision occasionally left a little spotty. It's when she blinks and they still flutter on in front of her eyes, that strange, unnatural and luminescent look to them that she is familiar with catches her eyes, and they narrow as she comes to a slow stop, nudging at Elaine. "You see that?" she inquires, motioning with a lazy flick of her wrist. A beat passes, before she looks off to the side, brow furrowed. "Colette?" she says somewhat lowly, turning on her heels as she looks around.

Elaine's looking at the clouds for a long moment before she happens to note the butterflies. There's a slight blink, and her eyes focus on Quinn's. "Yeah, I see that." After all, we don't want Quinn to think she's seeing things. Her gaze follows Quinn as she looks away. "I don't think it's Colette."

The brunette's head turns to regard the two girls — freckles dot her nose and pale cheeks, and it's clear she's no more than 15, and not Tasha, especially when no look of recognition passes her impish face. She turns the corner, leaving them to the butterflies that flitter above them — the butterflies then becoming miniature green and red fireworks, shimmering in the light before disappearing into nothingness.

Behind them, there is the soft clearing of a throat. The tall and lean form of Jolene Marley/Marlowe/Whatever stands a little nervously, hands clasped behind her back as she waits for the two women to respond. No hoodie for her, but a thermal shirt beneath a Yankees t-shirt keeps her warm. Vibrant red hair is held in place by a crocheted red beret.

"Surprise?" she offers, a twisted smirk, and her cheeks coloring just a touch with something like embarrassment.

Fireworks, what? It's not July yet, or else Quinn would be spending today- probably drinking, to be entirely honest. Now that she's not surrounded by kids like she was at Gun Hill. She blinks are they fade away, enraptured enough that the sound of Jolene's voice actually gives her a bit of a start. Her head spins to face the younger woman, more out of surprise than anything else, a hand moving to her chest. "Jesus Christ," she intones, a moment passing before a smirk forms on her face. Clearly, someone is playing a joke on her.

She hasn't forgotten this new arrival from their last meeting, no. That smirk twists up into a smile, Quinn's arms crossing. "Jo-lene?" she says, as if making sure she has the other woman's name right. It's been close to two months since she last saw her, and sometimes Quinn's memory plays tricks on her. "Fancy bumpin' int' you here, I wasn't expectin' t' see anyone out here t'day. Not exactly the best day for bein' out an' about. A hand raises, giving a little wave to the taller woman (always surrounded by taller women T_T), before Quinn looks over to Elaine. She doesn't introduce though. That slips her mind.

Elaine's eyes flicker over to the other woman. She offers her a warm smile, eyes going to where the butterflireworks went off. Looking back after a moment, she clears her throat, just slightly. This is awkward. Mostly because she's not sure what to say and she's not really been properly introduced. She offers a wiggle of her fingers. "Hi," she offers cheerfully.

"Hi, Robyn," Jolene says, and she turns to smile at the redhead, offering her hand. "Hi, Elaine."

Beat.

"Um. Nice day?" Because weather is an appropriate topic when things are awkward. "I'm not stalking you, I swear. I just happened to be in the park, and saw you… and thought I'd just… you know. Say hi." With butterflies and fireworks.

Her eyes fall on the red guitar and she grins widely. "That guitar is primal." It's red, after all.

It doesn't really strike Quinn as her being awkward, laughing a as she looks back over her shoulder at her guitar. Reaching back and grabbing the instrument's neck, her other hand moves to where the strap connects to the guitar's base and flicks it off, detaching the instrument from her person. It's pulled in front of her, spun in her head before she steadies it and reattaches the strap. "Primal?" Spoken as if clarification is needed, but from the tone and the grin, it's clearly a good thing. "You're welcome t' take a look at it," she offers, holding the instrument out to the faux-redhead. "Just be careful with it. It's like a decade old an' I just got the finish touched up." Again. How that thing gets so scuffed up, she'll never understand.

Turning to Elaine, Quinn gives another lazy hand motion, this time towards Jolene as she smiles at the natural redhead. "This is Jolene…." Actually- now is when Quinn gets a little embarrassed. "Mar- Christ, I feel like such a loser." Considering Jolene herself had seemed unsure in their last meeting, could anyone blame Quinn, who's looking to Jolene for a helpful reminder? Probably good, with where her train of thought had been headed.

"Yeah, it's pretty nice out… I mean, better than it's been. Least it's not snowing right now, huh? I miss being able to walk at the park." Elaine says, her eyes studying the guitar before they fix on Lene. She shakes Lene's hand gently before looking back to Quinn. She's not sure what to say.

Lene's teeth rake over her lower lip as she reaches for the guitar, smiling fondly at it once it's in her hands. She moves back to sit down on the edge of a bench seat, strumming out a very clumsy few chords… a beginner at best. "I never was very good," she says with a shake of her head. "Despite a few lessons."

She looks at the instrument, running a hand along its curves before standing and giving it back. "If it makes you feel better, it will make it a lot longer. A few restringings and a few paint jobs." Green eyes look up, brows lifting as she studies Quinn's face, waiting for any understanding.

"it could stand t' be a bit warmer," Quinn notes as she looks back upwards at the sky. Whatever cloud she saw earlier, it's moved on out of her view. Or Elaine was right, she was just seeing what she wanted to see, certainly not impossible. "I didn't see you at the show, Jolene" Quinn notes, still looking upwards. "Which is a shame, it was really good." Except for the whole FRONTLINE thing, but she's not going to be bringing that up in mixed company.

Looking back down at Elaine, Quinn shrugs. "Sorry, I'm a dunce. I met Jolene the day before we went and picked up the CD, she's a friend of…" It isn't an abrupt stop, but it is a trail off none-the-less, as Quinn remembers how she met Jolene. Her eyes slide over towards the woman holding her guitar, furrowing a bit at her ascertation that the guitar has a long life ahead of it. "A friend of Adel's. BFFs, apparently" Not said with suspicion, or emphasis, at least not intentionally. "She thought we should go to Atlantic City…" There's a bit of a look of thought on Quinn's face when she says that, like she's studying Jolene herself.

"You're… a friend of Adel's?" Elaine's eyes widen, not because it's a shock that Adel has friends, but that Adel has friends. "Oh, I… I mean, it's really nice to meet you. I, um… been meaning to talk to Adel. I mean, I…" She trails off. "Right, it's nice to meet you. Do you happen to know Robyn from… somewhere else?""

"Um," Lene says, reaching up to push a strand of burgundy hair behind an ear. "Yeah, I'm… a friend of Adel's," she repeats, green eyes darting from one woman to the other. "Somewhere else…" she repeats as well, looking uncertain, despite the certainty she had that she wanted to do this, just a few nights ago.

Her breath catches in her throat, and as she opens her mouth to speak, she suddenly shakes her head, turning away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't… maybe the others… shit." Her hand pulls out the red cell phone as she begins to head in the opposite direction, head down, shoulders hunched.

It's a little funny. Despite the discussion that morning, despite all of her frustrations earlier when these matters had come up, there's no hesitation as Quinn steps forward as far as she needs to get a hand on Lene's shoulder, in an attempt to get her to stop her retreat. She's even a little surprised, but she doesn't stop herself, the hand squeezing gently as it reaches up to the taller woman.

"Jolene," she says, trying to some somewhere between gentle and stern. A thousand follow-ups swim through her mind, but the one she settles on is simple, to the point, and so very much like her, really. She doesn't look back at Elaine at all, her attention is focused ahead now.

"What's up?"

"Oh, oh no!" Elaine protests, shaking her head as she turns to follow Quinn's own pursuit in Lene. "Please don't go. You haven't done anything wrong. I'm sorry, I'm just being awkward. I'm just not sure what to do, I just wanted to know if…" That's a statement Elaine never finishes. She looks back to Quinn, questioningly. "Should I give you two a moment?"

The tall faux-redhead stops when Quinn's hand catches her shoulder, and she presses her hands to her eyes. There's a small shudder and she suddenly whirls around to face both. Green eyes swimming with tears look much like the eyes of a little girl in a dream not so many days ago, even if the hair isn't the right color, even if the cheeks have thinned into a more angular bone structure, even if the girl is now taller than Quinn instead of smaller, softer.

"I'm sorry. I thought… I thought this would be easier. I thought it'd just feel normal and easy but it's not, is it, and I'm interrupting your lives like it's okay and normal and it's not normal and … fuck, I … do you know? Did you have a dream? You were … you were supposed to have a dream…?"

"I-" Quinn looks back at Elaine. Her look says you don't have to leave, but the way she turns her head back to Jolene says but if you're uncomfortable…. Or at least, that's what Quinn hopes gets across, ehr thoughts are too preoccupied to vocalise them. And then, when she looks back and sees those tears, those eyes - the world around her shrinks. It's just her and Jolene, at least for the next minute or two.

And she just stares for a what seems like an eternity, even if it's just a few seconds. "It's you," she says softly. That should answer that question well enough. "I-I did. I just- we all had dreams last night, and -" actually, Adel, and seeing her as a child, is deemed irrelevant. Quinn isn't really sure how to feel, except for the feelings from taht dream that come swimming back to her mind - sadness, sympathy, the desire to comfort. "Me an' Ygraine…" Christ." Quinn probably isn't making it easier for Jolene, at the very least she doesn't seem displeased. It's a lot to take in, though.

"Yeah, there was a dream… we had some dreams…" Elaine echoes, looking between Quinn and Jolene. She recognizes the look from Quinn, smiling lightly, but she takes a step back, out of the way, especially when there are tears. There shouldn't be tears. She feels guilty. Staring at the two, she can't help but feel awkward. She lets the two have some space, taking a small walk over to an empty bench, sliding in against the side of it, eyes staying on the two.

Staring at Quinn, Lene nods, one hand reaching up to swipe at the tears with the back of her wrist, the cuff of her sleeve smearing some of her cobalt eyeliner. She steps closer and reaches out with one hand, grasping Quinn's.

"I'm … I'm sorry if the dreams are at all upsetting," she whispers, glancing over at Elaine and nodding to her as well. "I know seeing the way things are isn't easy but there are good memories there too. W- I… came back to try to help, to change things, to stop the things that don't have to happen."

She swallows, and swipes her other cheeks with her free hand. "I don't think I ever said it when I was a kid… and I know you haven't done it yet, and maybe won't ever, but thank you for making me your family."

"They're- " A pause. "It's- " Quinn purses her lips. "You- " Furrowing her brow, Quinn does what she always does when she can't find the right words. It's more of an instinct, and once she does it, she hopes it doesn't feel- awkward, or weird. But in the moment, that doesn't stop her from lightly hugging Jolene.

"It's fine," is breathed out somewhat tiredly. Which you'd never know from the past week and a half. "The dreams - so much is different now from then." In case Jolene hasn't noticed she's walking around with a woman with a ring on her finger that isn't Ygraine. "It's been- weird." She swallows hard, shaking her head. "An' you don't have t' thank ne. I just-" Okay, this feels weird to say. "I just hope we were good t' you." She lets silent fall for a moment, quirking her lips side to side. "You didn't have t' lie t' me. You should know that."

The aforementioned woman with the ring twists it idly around her finger. Elaine's eyes study the two, silent, close enough to listen but far enough away to make some semblance of privacy for the pair. The ring is pushed on and off of her finger, nervously, brow furrowed in concern.

Arms wrap carefully around Quinn, the guitar in the other's arms keeping her from throwing herself into the hug. "You were. You are," she breathes out, a hand reaching out to grab Elaine's wrist and tugging her closer. "And you're family too, Elaine," she says, hugging the other woman quickly before stepping away.

"I … I should go. I didn't mean to interrupt your walk. It really was just coincidence." This, she offers with a rueful grin as she brings her hands up to wipe her eyes once more. "I'm supposed to…" And the cell phone chimes in her pocket as she speaks. "I gotta go. But we'll talk… okay?"

When Jolene pulls away, Quinn's eyes stay on her for a moment, before looking down, briefly, at the guitar. "Funny coincidence," Quinn cracks with a wry, if weak, smile. She reaches over to Elaine, looping her arm in with the other woman's. She makes no effort to stop Jolene. She's still a little too shocked to move far, and the younger woman… Quinn breathes out a sigh and nods, keeping that week smile. Her bag, the one that always holds her sheet music, songbooks, and iPad, is dipped into, and two things emerge - a Studio K business card, with all three of her numbers on it, and under it, something in shrink wrap - the words Fantasies written on it. Her new single, not out until tomorrow. Jolene's probably heard it, but that doesn't really occur to Quinn.

"Go do what you need to," she says softly. "If… you know where she is…" Go see Ygraine is implied, Quinn's eyes closing for a moment. "Give me a call any time. We'll… talk." The guitar moves, the strap sliding back over her shoulders. "Thank you for telling me, Jolene." A genuine sentiment, even despite her displeasure with having been led on.

There's a smile when Elaine's pulled into a hug by Lene, and she squeezes her back for a moment. "Thanks," she offers softly, looking back with a smile towards the faux-redhead. She makes an almost-reflexive movement to move closer to Quinn, but she holds back, fidgeting nervously as her gaze moves back to her ring which she twists around her finger again.

Fingers curl around the card and the CD and Lene brings them to her chest, nodding. "Thanks. And … and I do. I'll go there. I also need to talk to my Mom … Gw- Gillian? But I think she's on the… I think she's not in town."

Green eyes note Elaine's slight motion to pull away, and she shakes her head. "Don't edit who you are for my account," she says softly. "We came to change the world, after all." There's a smirk at this, and a shrug. "We accept the consequences of our actions. It's like… civil disobedience."

A quick step forward, and she plants a kiss on Quinn's cheek and then Elaine's, before darting around the bend in the path — a trail of luminescent music notes along with clefs and rests float up toward the clouds in her wake.


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