Old Home Week


alexander1_icon.gif melissa_icon.gif

Scene Title Old Home Week
Synopsis Leonard shows up with a 'new' face, that Melissa recognizes from Moab.
Date February 23, 2010

The Den

It's painting day! There's a drop cloth down on the floor, tape covering the things that need to be covered, and perhaps a third of the walls of the 'lounge' of the Den have been painted a pale blue-grey. It's soft and homey! And there's a Melissa, hair pulled back into a ponytail, paint speckled over her hands and arms, and with a smear over her forehead that looks a little damp still. A stereo nearby plays music, but it's kept low enough that she can hear people coming in, while people above can't hear her.

"'s gonna look like the inside of a battleship," opines the redhead who comes lounging in. The face is different, the voice is different, but the body language and the accent and the cadence to his speech are the same. It's….Leo, but it isn't. He's in a pale t-shirt, dark jeans, and looks intensely amused. Like he's waiting for Mel to recognize him. The last time she saw that face, it was vacant and bewildered over an orange jumpsuit.

Melissa tilts her head, brow furrowing slightly. She half turns, to glance over towards that vaguely familiar voice, then her jaw drops. Those who were at the party the night before might recognize the same look of surprise on her face as when she saw Helena. "Holy fucking shit. What is this? Old home week?" she breathes, before her face splits in a grin. "And it is not gonna look like a battleship, dammit."

"Yeah, it is, innit. What were you in there for?" he says, quietly, advancing from where he'd propped himself lazily in the doorframe. "I 'member you. Not that I remember much from that little vacation."

"Lucky you," Melissa says with a wry smile. "I remember too much. Was in there 'cause they tracked me down, cuffed me, and figured that I was too damn dangerous to be able to interact with 'decent people'," she says, making air quotes. Then her head tilts and she studies him intently, looking like someone who's got some memory hovering on the edge of her mind.

Alexander makes a little moue of understanding. "That's okay. I ain't decent people," he assures her.

Melissa's eyes narrow, and she puts down the brush she was using, moving towards him so she can study him a little closer. "You…remind me of someone," she murmurs.

"And who is that?" wonders Alexander, oh so archly.

Melissa is quiet for a moment, before she arches a brow. "Leo, of the cute hiney and unrequited guy love."

Alexander spreads his hands in a little "Got it in one" gesture. "That would have been me. Leo's a disguise I wore for a while, but now it's Leonard Shelby, RIP. Man, no one got that joke," he says, with a lazy shake of his head.

Melissa reaches out to poke at his shoulder, seeming to forget about the paint on her hand. "Dude. You could've told me who you were. I was in there with you, it's not like I would rat you out," she says, frowning at him, but she doesn't really seem that upset.

"Angel, what you don't know, you can't betray. It's not a matter of will. I've had stuff ripped out of my head directly," Alex says, gently.

"Mmm…Good point," Melissa says after a moment, nodding. "But damn! Still a surprise. That's two people from Moab in twenty-four hours. Neither of which I expected to ever see again."

Alexander lifts a copper-colored brow lazily. "Oh? And who's th' other?" he wonders, blinking pale eyes at her.

"Helena. We hung out some, before she got tossed in a hole," Melissa answers. "But how you been? And I don't gotta ask what you were in for, show off," she says, grinning at him.

He smirks at her, amused. "I was in for bein' a terrorist and helpin' save the damn world. Not just because I can do parlor tricks."

Melissa grins. "Oh sure, show off again," she teases. "I was just mindin' my own damn business when I got bagged, tagged and tossed in." Her head tilts. "So why the sudden reappearance act?"

"'cause the jig is up. The face I was wearin' is known to those i was hidin' from, so there's no real point in keepin' it," he explains, slightly more seriously.

Melissa winces sympathetic. "Damn. Sorry to hear that. You know you need a place to hide out, this place is always open to you. Anything I can do?"

Alexander shakes his head. "Supposedly, I'm pardoned. ANd while not inclined to test it….." He shrugs. "Thanks, though."

Melissa's brows shoot up. "Pardoned? Seriously? Lucky you. Don't blame you for not wantin' to test it though. I wouldn't either." She pauses a beat, then grins. "Well, not too much anyway." The grin dims into a smile. "Glad you dropped by though. It's good knowing that there's people I know in the city. Not new people, I mean."

"An' you need somethin' from me, you let me know. Ain't got much, but you're welcome to what there is. How'd you get loose?" he wonders of her. "You still on the run?"

Melissa sighs and nods, perching on the arm of a couch. "Yeah, pretty much. There was sort of a mass breakout. I ended up a couple hours or so away from Moab. And I sure as hell wasn't gonna go back there and ask them to pretty please lock me up again."

"Smart," Alex affirms, in his driest voice. "Yeah. I got taken out during the break out. Don't remember much of that, either."

"I'm still not quite sure what happened with that, but you know what they say about gift horses," Melissa says, shrugging. "But whatcha gonna do now that you've got your old look back? Same as you were doing?"

"Bein' a terrorist? Not much beyond workin' with the Ferry. Drivin' a cab? Likely," he says, lazily. "I was pretty good at it."

Melissa grins. "I meant what you were doin' as Leo. Didn't know you were a cab driver though. You sure like to live dangerously, don'tcha?"

Alexander notes, dryly, "I wasn't doin' much as Leo. Roamin' around, tryin' to deal with PTSD."

Melissa's brows lift. "PTSD? From Moab? Or somethin' else?" she asks curiously. "And you can sit down if you want. And there're drinks in that cooler over there," she says, nodding towards said cooler.

""Both," says Alex, laconically, before ambling over to said cooler.

Melissa considers him as he moves, head canting slightly. "Wanna talk about it? Or is it somethin' I should drop?" she asks lightly.

Alexander ponders that. "Drop it for now. You'll hear when you need to," he says, without rancor in his voice.

Melissa nods and drops it easily, moving onto the next subject. "So what's your guy think about the change in face? Or did he know?"

"He knew. There were ….a lot of other complicated issues. I don't know," Alex says, as he lets a bottle of coke spring into his hand as if it were a frog.

Melissa watches the flying coke and grins. "You know, if I could pick a talent to have, that one'd be high on my list," she says, sliding down to sit on the couch properly, careful not to get drying paint on it. "And good complicated? I mean, he's okay with you changing back? And how did you change to Leo and back anyway?"

Alexander drops limply onto a couch. "No. Not always. He ….I don't know. Listen, I'm not interested in talking about him, because things are weird and up in the air, okay?"

Melissa's brows lift, but she nods. "Yeah, sure. Can you tell me about how you did your amazing transforming act?"

"A …friend could manipulate faces. When I got back from Moab, and divers other adventures, I went to ground, until he made me look like Leo," Alex explains, taking a pull from his coke.

Melissa nods. "And he was around for you to get changed back? That's pretty handy. He is in the Ferrymen? We could use a guy like him if he isn't."

Alexander shakes his head. "He wasn't. He got killed - assassinated by Humanis First. This is someone else's work. And I'll talk to him, next I see him."

Melissa nods. "Sorry to hear that. It's never easy to lose a friend," she says with real sympathy in her voice. "But on a better note…At least you're making new ones, and rediscovering some." She grins. "After all, who could have a better friend than me?"

"We'll see how good a friend you end up being," retorts Alex. There's no sting in his words, though. Merely teasing.

Melissa laughs, then follows that up by sticking her tongue out at him. "Hey, I'm the best friend in the world, until you go after someone I consider to be under my protection."

And again, he quirks a red brow at her. "And then?"

The amusement in Melissa's eyes fades, replaced by something far cooler and harder. "Then you pay. Simple as that. Fuck with them, you fuck with me, and I'm not a forgiving person."

Alexander takes that as she gives it, accepting that bald statement with a perfectly neutral face. "Understood.

Melissa doesn't let the serious mood linger long, or ruin her previously good mood. Is she bipolar or something? She smiles. "Good. Don't worry though. You're on that list of people I'll go to bat for."

"Am I? On such short acquaintance?" He sounds genuinely startled.

Melissa grins and shrugs. "Yeah, well, don't take it too personally. You're on the list, but not the short list. I don't know you well enough for the short list yet."

Alexander sprawls on the couch. "What's the short list?"

Melissa shrugs again. "Short list is the people that I would do absolutely anything to avenge. That list is…well, empty at the moment, actually, but in theory, it's the people who matter most to me. Don't worry though. The longer list isn't a bad one to be on."

"I imagine not," he says, sipping more sedately from his coke.

Melissa grins. "You gotta have a similar list anyway though, right? I mean, you joined the Ferrymen for a reason, yeah?"

Alexander ducks his head. "I do," he says, quietly. "I'm tired of the way the Evolved are treated."

Melissa nods, face going somber. "Yeah, you'n me both. Was bad enough before Moab, but after that whole deal?" She shakes her head and sips at her coke. "It's pathetic. We're different so we're 'wrong'."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License