Who Is


alister_icon.gif tibby_icon.gif

Scene Title Who is…
Synopsis >.>
Date June 6, 2018

Alister's Penthouse

The medics at the Staten Island Trade Commission have treated the wounds of Tibby and Alister. He's allowed her into his penthouse, where she has a comfortable lounge chair to herself, and he's stretched out on the couch.

He's in an uncharacteristic white t-shirt, with a clean pair of black slacks, having thrown on something that wasn't covered in filth. Tibby was given some of Margaux's less used clothes to wear after her cleanup.

"I hope the money is worth it for Sibyl." he grumps, with his good arm laying across his forehead, staring up at the ceiling. Tibby has access to the remote if she wants to use his sizable TV that's mostly there for the benefit of Margaux. "I would have given that girl everything, and made her my child, but she pissed it all away, for nothing. This is the second and last time I allow someone to steal from me, to betray me like this…"

The penthouse is noted like a good thief would when checking out a place before they robbed it. No robbery on her mind tonight. Tibby needs to recover, her side aches, the fiery pain dulling thanks to painkillers and her own brand of medicine: marijuana. Her legs are folded underneath her and she looks up at Alister as he speaks, emerald eyes curious as a hand falls to stroke the backs of Oya and Adze, the caracal and African golden cat safely reunited with Tibby.

But she still felt on unease, weed or not. She should have shot Eugene. Shoulda, coulda, woulda. Her father would be laughing at her. A pang of embarrassment makes her flinch as she exhales the smoke out up to the ceiling. Tibby’s eyebrows raise,

“She didn't seem like she needed a dad.” More like a slapping. Or a night out in the outside lands surrounding Johannesburg. “She exploited your weakness. You like delicate things.”

"And yet she wasn't delicate at all… Etienne warned me." Alister just keeps staring at the ceiling, a lost look in his eyes. "It's because I've been an evil man. That's why I've been doomed to betrayal, doomed to loneliness. No matter how hard I try, no matter how hard I invest…"

He raises his mauled but currently bandaged arm, staring at it in front of his face. "This is what being an evil man gets me. Sibyl knew what I was, how I was, even though I was trying to change."

Looking to Tibby, he asks, "I wonder, are you thinking of the best moment to take everything from me too?"

“You should listen to ya friends, why you have em if you don't.” It's a simple logic for a complicated issue, Alister’s morality. Giving the man a once over with emerald green eyes she ashes the joint and stretches an arm out. The tank top and sweat pants borrowed from Margaux are too big but it can't be helped.

Flyaway bleached blonde hair gets a ruffle, “Eina, that’s rough.” He seems so wounded. So was Tibby but her heart felt for the man, he seemed helpless. Even though he had killed a group of dogs after getting shot multiple times. “I believe in karma. What are ya doing to tip the balance back in ya favor hm?”

A soft smile as she leans in from the space between them, “I've got enough thanks.” And Tibby does. Her boat, her feline friends. Her life. Her business. Life was good, save for the loss of a best friend and ex boyfriend. Everything else? Going swimmingly. “But being prepared from now on is smart.”

"I wasn't quite sure about Etienne's judgement. Now I am." Alister decides, continuing to listen. What else can he do, except listen to how to potentially change his life. "I'll make the garden that I gave Sibyl the money to grow, to the community. Maybe once I have the water up and running, I'll use the profits to open a school for these children on Staten. Perhaps I could even crowdfund it now…"

"But with all of the things I want to do, I wonder if it can truly be enough to avoid these grand displays of betrayal?" He looks over at her, then motions his good hand for her to come over. "We survived something together. I want to think that we can build trust. I don't want to hire you, I'm tired of everything I have with other people being a transaction. I want to build true trust with someone."

“The gestures don't need to be grand either. Walking an old bibi across the street adds good karma,” of course. Small actions can snowball into larger benefits for everyone involved. “Restoring water and schools is admired. A real proper thing to do.”

They did survive something together, something they shouldn't have but did all the same. Tibby thanked the Orishas again for sparing her life before standing and padding over to the couch, not to be summoned. The South African woman perches on the arm of the couch and passes over the joint. “Toke, it’ll take your angst away.” Hopefully.

Trust.. “Sylvester, he called you Maxwell. I thought your name was Alister Black.”

"My name is Leonardo Maxwell." Alister admits, because it seems like damned near everyone knows it these days. He takes the joint and takes a hit, a modest one, he doesn't want to smoke her whole stash, if this is her whole stash.

The joint is soon passed back, and he continues. "I was captured by the Institute, my ability was stolen, and they faked my death and ran my company into the ground, using what money that Eileen didn't steal from me to fund rampant racism and genocide. So, I have to be Alister Black until I can clean my name."

"I want to believe that there are people I can trust in this world, people other than my sister and Etienne. I want to believe that I won't be betrayed." He closes his eyes, perhaps his own form of trust. "I want tonight to have a silver lining, I want all of this hell to have been worth something."

What.. a story. Tibby blinks taking the joint back before slowly nodding her head. This guy has the worst luck in the world. Or he's stupid. He doesn't seem.. stupid. Though his circumstances are extraordinary. His logic isn't completely sound for the tiny woman. “So yer wanna clear ya name while also committing crimes under your alias.” She wants to get the story right. “Stole ya ability too? That's pretty.. barbaric eh? Such a personal thing.” Their gifts were. That's what Tibby called them. Never curses.

Eyes narrow as Alister continues to speak and she rubs the back of her head staying silent as Tibby looks up towards the ceiling, smoking and allowing it to drift off into the atmosphere. “The silver lining is that ya get to survive. It’s a gift. Ya get to run a bath and eat food and feel protected and safe at least right this moment.”

Passing the joint back over because she's never hurting for weed. “Tell me about your ability.”

"I'm just barely committing crimes. I run a smuggling business, I don't do human trafficking, I don't sell drugs. The FBI could care less about me. I'll transition as I gain more legitimate resources." Alister takes and puffs the joint again a few more times, thinking back…

"It was a sort of metal control. When I controlled metal, it liquified whatever I moved. I usually made constructs, like liquid metal dolls that could stab people." He finally starts to sit up, passing the joint back, shifting a little closer to her. "You can have my ocelot. I guess we'll call her Handbag, I'd like to leave Eileen's memory where it is."

Reaching out, he takes her arm, looking over at what little scratches she's acquired in their adventure. "Tell me about yourself."

More interested in liquid metal then his crimes, Tibby nods and cracks her neck from side to side with a pop. Raising an eyebrow at ‘Constructs used to stab people.’ Well.. inventive. Holding the ends of her bleached locks together while puffing on the joint she quickly ties her hair into a high ponytail the shaved sides more prominent now. “Lekker.. some weird Magneto type?” She was partial to the X-Men Storm and Oya for obvious reasons.

The giving over of “Handbag” causes the woman to place a hand on her chest with a small smile towards the man. “I think I’ll do well with her, get her mostly clean. Less traumatized. They’ve done a number on her.” She doesn't say that perhaps Handbag’s time with Alister.. stressed her out too. It sounds like you should leave this Eileen behind.” A thought from an outsider.

Knowledge of Tibby’s past.. not many people have but she leans back more on the couch and peers over at Alister through a lazy look. “Born and raised in Johannesburg.. raised in a family of smugglers.. traveled all around the world with my pa.” Her brow furrows and Tibby frowns, smoke clinging to her hands as she waves it in the air. “Been with my cats for as long as I can remember, out there in golden plains.. simple.” A shrug of her shoulders, “My cousin died recently,” she hadn't talked about Remi’s accident. To anyone. “A landmine.” The woman grows silent for a few, long moments. Chewing on the inside of her cheek.

“I have a boat.”

"I heard about that, assuming there's only one landmine incident recently. I'm sorry to hear about it. I don't know what I'd do if Margaux… my sister…" Alister considers this, reaching over to gently touch her face. He seems tired, the day's been exhausting, and it's getting late.

"You've lived an interesting life. I was a billionaire for a while, stole the company from my father who taught me how to steal companies. I'm told my relationship with my parents wasn't exactly healthy." He shifts closer to her, grunting from his bandaged wounds. "One thing I'll do, for my karma, is not betray anyone who grants me that same loyalty and trust."

His hand slowly moves down, resting on the side of her neck. "Have you ever been deeply betrayed?"

Physical touch translates to comfort and support for the small woman and she lifts a hand to lay it over Alister’s as he caresses her cheek. Tibby is exhausted and she would want to curl up and fall right asleep but Alister seems like he needs something. She can tell a broken man when she sees and hears him, her father taught her inadvertently about broken men. There are memories that play on the outskirts of her mind, she and Remi first being introduced as toddlers. All the trips, the ballet.

“You can find interesting bits in all our lives Leo,” the blonde says softly while she listens to Alister’s condensed biography, “My father ran off to Mazdak apparently,” which doesn't mean she couldn't have a healthy relationship with him but people like Leo had no chance. Non-Expressives..

Eyeing Oya and Adze who still lay curled up and fast asleep the woman stares off in the distance st the question crease in her forehead deepening, “Aye, my best friend is fucking my ex.”

"My hope is to one day get my ability back, though I've abandoned my old views of Evolved supremacy. I had a bit of a phase, but losing your ability and learning the power of guns humbles you." Alister listens to her answer to his question, and then moves in closer to her, his hand gently gripping the back of her neck, peering down into her eyes. "And who is fucking you?" he asks, as if he's ready to provide an answer for the question himself.

That's good to hear. One Pro Evolved extremist in her life is one enough. “Guns are useful, it's why I sell em. My cats.. I don't always use them as weapons.” It's a sad thing though, that sometimes must happen. “Using then to gather information is better.” As Alister moves closer Tibby doesn't stiffen or become uncomfortable, she's relaxed. It's maybe the weed, staring forward she tilts her head and eyes narrow.

“One of the traffickers, Buddy.”

There's silence and then Tibby turns her face towards Alister with a sneaky grin on it, “Once or twice,” said softly looking into Alister’s eyes. “I don't believe I'm claimed.” The look in her face says that she wishes somebody would try so she could beat their ass.

"I don't have to own everything, though I am an extremely competitive man." Alister presses his lips to hers, because he'll be damned if all of this nonsense tonight was for nothing.

Let's just hope that Margaux is sufficiently drunk and passed out.

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