Participants:
| Scene Title | Across the Stream |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | While joining her friend in mourning, Eve has a different kind of experience. |
| Date | November 8, 2018 |
Brighton Beach — also known in part as Coney Island — was completely demolished between the events of the 2011 New York riots, the civil war, and the derelict aftermath leading up to the formation of the Safe Zone. Battered in that time by two different powerful storms, Brighton Beach is almost entirely demolished, a wasteland of crumbling buildings and tangled metal. Reconstruction of Brighton Beach was not prioritized during the initial resettlement planning due to its low elevation and propensity for flooding. However, in 2017, Yamagato Industries began construction on a new facility for the US government on the peninsula. While the exact nature of the structure is unknown, it is clear that there are no plans to begin civilian resettlement in the region.
This part of the Safe Zone isnear the edge, with very little completed and nothing fully developed. The roads work, more or less, due to the construction of a facility on the site, but it still leaves a lot to be desired. Had they come at night, they would not have anything to see by other than the ambient light from the other sections of the district and the stars and moon. Of which there would be no moon tonight. But that’s why they came in the mid-afternoon.
With a bag slung over her shoulder, Gillian carefully moves toward the part of the beach that had once been Coney Island park, or the Ruins of Coney Island just seven years ago. Even further back there were rides, fun houses, ferris wheels. But now there’s just twisted metal more than not. Some signs of what this place had once been, though. The car was parked a good distance away, the rest taken on foot.
“Thanks for coming with me,” she says to the side, looking over at Eve. It hadn’t been difficult to find the woman, and she had known she would agree to come with her even before she asked. This memorial was personal. Far too personal to share with most people. “I would have invited Jolene, but…” she trailed off. It hadn’t been an easy subject to bring up with her.
That she was going to a place to remember the girl’s father on the anniversary of losing him, so many years before.
Meeting Gilliam's gaze, doe eyes wobble as Eve blows her nose on a handkerchief. She had started getting teary eyed the closer they got to their destination, the seer nods her head in a show of support of her best friend when she lays a hand on her shoulder. “Of course Gilly.. Chicken.. she remembers her own way.” Probably in the many stories Eve has whispered in Jolene’s ear, just like the girl’s aunt had promised. Drawing her sweater coat tighter around her body she moves forward with Gillian, eyes going to the abandoned surroundings.
“So much laughter here.. use to be. He laughed. That imperfect smile, oh.” Overcome with emotion Eve takes a moment to dab at her eyes with the cloth, it's been many years but the wound still feels fresh. Beloved friend, lover, father.
Scuffed boots crunch on the remainder of shattered glass underfoot and the oracle takes a moment to look up at the afternoon sky, the ends of her maroon dress flapping up around her.
Stories were all they really had to give to Lene. And Gillian had few good stories to tell, to be honest. One, though. One was about this place. “This is where we went on a date. In the past.” She shakes her head with a small laugh, as if it hadn’t really been a date. Cause it hadn’t been. Even if they had made it sound like it was, and because it was the first time they’d actually done something… nice. This place had another memory. A darker one, too.
This was also where he tried to kill her.
But it was the good memory she wanted to focus on. “When we were going back in time, to break things, to fix things. I went one to try and save my parents from their fate, but in the end all that happened is I met them.” Her hand goes to the locket around her neck. She met her parents, for a few short minutes, had known they had loved her and Brian, despite everything. And she had also gotten that locket. The Chevalier family locket, that she had meant to pass down to her anyway. From mother to daughter.
One that Jolene wore as well. A copy from another time, that told Gillian that her trip to the past had happened in that time as well. Had the second trip?
“And then, I was asked to go back again, this time to stop something from changing. To save Peter. I don’t know what they were planning to do, just when. So I took him here, to spend the day. He was still in high school.” That had been awkward. But it had been endearing. “I got to see him before it all. Before he took everything on himself.”
To her, that smile had been perfect.
“Sneaky Gilly breaking trinkets knee deep in the river.” The adventures were plenty back then for the two of them. Listening to Gillian’s words, Eve nods her head along. “He was always more lucky to have you than he realized.” Idiot, a soft smile crosses her lips at back then.
Contributing to the reminiscing: “He came to me once, after your days in deep deep cold. When he got the idea from a vision of mine.. his face peeking through the window. An honest to god smile. He was light that day. He wasn't light too many of them so that was good. That was a good day.” Eve wipes her eyes and looks off to the distance, “You are his other piece, I'm happy he got you when he did.” Before he died.
“Did you think about telling him to run away? Leave home and never come back?” Never become the messiah that he had become.
With a shake of her head, Gillian silently disagreed with something that Eve had said, because really, no, she had never had him. Though she knew that he had had her. If he would have taken the time to do anything about it. She felt as if others had more claim on him, the one who died seven years ago, than she ever did. Kaylee. Niki. Helena. Melissa. They’d all seemed to have more claim. She had claim to an idea, a memory that was not even her own. The whisper of a memory. A memory of a tomorrow that would never be.
“Even if I would have, he never would have agreed and we both know it.” The fight, the burden, it had been too much for him. But she didn’t think she could have abandoned it either. Not then. Not until she nearly lost Lene. Not until she nearly lost herself on a battlefield so far away.
There’s no sounds of others on the beach, the soft sound of the water in the bay, the hint of the city not too far away. It felt so quiet to how this place should have sounded. Back before everything. Back before the wars. Back before the bombs. When the ferris wheel ran, when the children laughed and the teens played boardwalk games. When people hawked their wears.
The world had been a different place.
But in the corner of Eve’s awareness, she feels something out of place. A soft humming of a tune that sounds so familiar, but wasn’t. But she could recognize that humming anywhere. It was as if she heard a recording. Of herself. When she turned to look, a woman stood, looking at something and humming under her breath. Dressed all in black, the wind pulling on the ends of the dress. A wind that was headed in the wrong direction.
"He wouldn't have." Eve agrees, she would have tried though it would have failed but just to maybe have a chance of Peter getting a normal life and not being pulled in a bajillion directions at once, how could he ever had hoped to be free of that but in death?
Eve's neck tightens at that sound.. the hum of herself and slowly as she turns her head to see the woman in black looking at something the deer's eyebrows raise and she frowns. It looks like a mourner. There was much to mourn today, this horrible day. If she had the ability she would erase it from existence. "That's a lovely voice you've got there lady," Eve calls out with a small smile, maybe she's got a fan who likes to dress like her following after them. That might scare Gilly but Eve feels flattered at the potential of it all. For me?! she would say with a surprised look on her face, she already had it planned. Hopefully it wasn't another accursed youth pranking her for the memes.
“Who are you talking to?” Gillian asks in a soft voice, one that sounds confused, but that might get drowned out by what happens next.
The woman turns. It’s like looking in a mirror. The same somber expression that one might have held coming to a funeral changes almost instantly into surprise and then joy. The Eve that stands in front of her doesn’t dress all that differently. A simple black dress with some fashion hints that show it’s expensive, with shoes definitely not made for the beach (but then again it doesn’t seem to have sand on them). Nor does her hair move in the right direction, maybe the wind is shifting where she stands.
“Well hot damn. This is not what I expected when I dreamed about coming here today!” The woman exclaims in Eve’s own voice, clapping her hands together in excitement. “Which river is that? Is the Otter there?”
"Oh Gilly it's amazing I'm talking to myself!"
This is a situation Gillian is familiar with and Eve even "interacts" with her imaginary friends often but as the pale woman in this river inches forward towards her counterpart she eyes the dress, shoes and hair. "We got an upgrade ho boy! I love that dress." Throwing her fist into the air she gets straight to business when the Other Eve asks about the Otter. "Why yes he is! Otter Eyes is happily with Lady Zeus in this River, they are quite romantic if I say so myself. The kinda love that makes you wanna just be in love."
"Is there an Otter there?!" Maybe they are friends in more than one timeline.
“Oh we did get an upgrade,” the other Eve says with a grin that hides the fact that she had possibly be crying earlier. Why did her eyes have a little redness to them. But no, she looks overjoyed now at least. Whatever she had been up to she doesn’t say, but she looks behind her and waves her hand as if to the air, “Don’t freak out, love, I’m talking to myself. Go back to what you were doing.” There’s no one there. But she looks toward the spot that had been spoken to a moment ago, squinting as if trying to see… No, she doesn’t seem able to see who Eve is talking to anymore than Eve can see who the other Eve had been speaking to.
But she does recognize Gilly. “Is Gillian there?” The fact that she uses the full name might indicate something, but she doesn’t continue beyond that, instead glancing behind her for a moment. To what certainly isn’t a piece of trash tumbling down the beach. That sadness is back, her moods seem to switch rapidly. That is one thing that will never change. And if anything Gilly looks infinitely patient, even as if she’s concerned and watching to make sure the other woman doesn’t accidentally hurt herself.
“We’re three times triple platinum, Sister,” she smiles, holding up three fingers on each hand. “The Otter and his lady are swimming along to another stream now. They’d a long way to go when I saw them last.”
"Well hello love to you too," waving at the space next to the Other Eve, the shinier one. That's the way that Eve starts to think of her. Shiny Eve, like… "Platinum! Do we get a yacht with that? Whoa chea dude, Gilly!!" Eve looks over to her most patient friend, "We went triple platinum baby!! Drinks on me!" Woo!! This is a rush, how neat! Eve is swimming almost so much that she near misses that name drop.. how it's said.
"Where is your Gillian?"
"Oh thanks the Goddesses, they are on schedule." Whatever schedule that is, who knows but Eve momentarily looks down at the broken pocket watch, pulling it out of her dress. "Hm. Still broken. Still on.. schedule. Yes." A dutiful nod from the raven haired woman before the sounds of footsteps makes her pause.
"Must have seen me after you Shiny Lady." A snort follows.
Whirling around Eve faces the open air and gapes because there in front of her in a thick and bright head of flaming red hair is Eve. Leather Eve. "Hoooo man are we a commando too?" Her voice is a tiny whisper of excitement and she's almost overwhelmed, Gillian knows the look of an Eve getting ready to burst with energy.
"We're a kick ass lady leading a Resistance, well we won the goddamn war, SMITED OUR ENEM- sorry one sec." Holding up her finger to the air behind her with a small smile, this red headed Eve is dressed in leather pants… with a ratty blanket wrapped around her shoulders, "Baby, don't look at me like that. It's my Sisters! Look, they can't see you naked but I might they'd like too. Boomchickawowow, I must say."
Eve snickers but quickly looks over to the Shiny One again, "I'm sorry did you say where Gilly was?"
From the way that the well-off looking Eve glances away, one might assume where her Gillian might be. But she doesn’t actually get the chance to say anything, because her eyes spin around to look at the leather clad, dyed hair version of themselves. “Holy Pretzel! Two of me!” It’s a shocking exclamation, if a somewhat original one. “Better striffen the wombats cause there might be a third showing up. A regular meeting of the minds, wouldn’t you say, Sisters?”
The whole thing seems to be amusing her, actually jumping up and clapping her hands as she exclaims. It’s definitely making her dour mood better.
But then she asks the question again and she stops clapping, looks back behind her again for a moment, and then back to the other two. “I didn’t see it coming.” And they would both know how she meant that. “She was murdered. Her and Peter both.” She won’t say who had been publicly blamed for it, she never believed it, whether she dreamed anything about it or not. “Four years ago almost.”
But she did not believe it and never would. But the joy and excitement is dampened slightly by a hint of tears in her eyes and that shivered tightness in her voice.
As for this world’s Gillian, she doesn’t seem to hear any of this.
"STRIFFEN THE WOMBATS!" The primary Eve cries out in salute and cups her hands around doe brown eyes searching for a potential fourth. The news of the Shiny Gillian and Peter's fate makes her stop though and she reaches a hand out to the immaculately dressed version of herself, "Oh my Sister… I am so sorry for your loss." Eve goes to clutch Gillian's hand to squeeze, "We lost our Peter too." She echoes softly with a look to the ground, "Years who now, he was trying to save.. us all. I couldn't see it." That wasn't her fault but she felt like a failure.
"Now now Sisters, perk up. There's a place our sweet Gilly and Petey are together, happy.. here. Know that they are safe, I will always watch over them." The red headed Eve sounds serious, the antics of usual held to a pause. Gillian and Peter are important to the three of them. Gillian an anchor in each river, Peter a brother. A small smile crosses the Resistance Leader's lips, "I'm making them help me plan the biggest party! It's been years in the making but just you wait! Just need a few more llamas—" the redhead is cut off by something and she looks over her shoulder.
"How many cows do we have my love?" She had none, nobody would give Leather Eve their cows.
The air shifts for the three Eves currently congregated and a dark, huddled over shape walks out from the bushes and begins to hobble her way over to the women. A long staff is punched into the ground but makes no sound as she moves, an old fisherman's hat from Asian covers the figure's who is obviously a woman face. A dark, tattered robe can be seen covering her body and a loose cotton bag is carried on her shoulder.
Stopping in conversation, Leather Eve and the one in the here and now pause and turn their heads. Leather Eve squints her eyes and tilts her head as the robed woman lifts her head the barest bit to reveal a yellow stained teeth grin. "Hello Chickens, who’s Gillian?" The weathered, wrinkled face of another Eve is shown and she cackles at the look of shock from her counterparts, doing a twirl so that she can be seen fully by them gray frizzy hair flying in a circle, "You're so old Sister!!" The "Old" Eve snaps a glare at the Primary one.
"Seasoned. Aged as fine as the finest wine, the older the grape the better the snake." That makes no sense.
“Whoa,” the better kempt of the chickens looks startled, which was a small change from the relief that she’d had when she heard that somewhere Peter and Gillian might still be alive. That made the mourning easier. She would say more on that, but suddenly old lady.
“How are you so— seasoned exactly? Mother. I mean I’m used to seeing the future, but I didn’t think that’s what this was— ” That nickname is said with a wry grin as she shakes her head. She fell in easily thinking of the other two as sisters, but that wrinkled Eve is definitely more than a big sister. There’s something of extra experience in her form and she can’t help but ask. And there are so many questions that she wants to ask.
Which would be true for Gillian as well, as she watches Eve with a frown, looking around every so often to make sure that they were still alone on the beach. They were. It wasn’t exactly a tourist attraction these days. The mention of Peter had caught her breath, but she’s going to wait til this is over.
She thought she knew what was happening here. But she didn’t know why it seemed so different for Eve than it had been for others. Than it had been for her.
There's a exaggerated roll of her eyes at the "Mother" title, "You sound like Mon—"
"//You're with Monica! Oh hello!!" The Primary chicken hops up excited, "What about Gilly?"
"Who.. is Gilly?" Mad Eve looks confused and the chickens all blink and rear back. A life without their sister Gilly is no life at all. "Um.." frantically Eve looks over at her Gillian and looks sheepish, "Sorry Gilly I… one sec." Pulling out her cellphone she unlocks and flips to a picture of she, Gillian and Jolene. "That's me, Gilly and Chicken!! The OG Chicken."
Peering over at Eve's screen, Made Eve blinks and rears back herself before seemingly calming herself and simply adding, "Oh you mean Stef Winters, silly chickens. Are you all stoned?" the Primary chicken looks confused as she puts her phone back in her pocket. "Stef Winters?!" Primary and Leather shout at the same time. "But.." Eve looks at Gillian with wide eyes before snapping her attention back to Mad Eve. "Mother," sinking to her knees, the corporeal Eve bows her head to the cracked pavement.
"Oh get up you ninny! (I learned that from a nice English boy when I was traveling before the Flood.)" a wink wink to the other three and Leather Eve snickers. The older woman conventily has not addressed why she's the way she is. "If you ever run across someone by the name of— Oh oh!!" Mad Eve slaps her hand on her thigh as she stops herself from revealing that Incident. "Yo you," pointing at Primary Eve. "You're the place with the war that was raging, not the one that was all wastelandy." To which Leather Eve's nostrils flair, "I'll have you know I'm gathering the Gifted to bring our land back to life!!" To which Mad Eve scoffs and waves her hand dismissively, "Of course you little chicken, of course you are. But," rounding back on the physical one, "Find Delilah, do you know her? I've got her Foxy son Wally World, what's in the wally ball!" The older woman sings loudly and looks over her shoulder as she goes to pet something, "Don't worry Tulip, momma's just talking to some chickens. Meowwwww." Oh she's talking to a cat. "Foxy fell from the sky, he misses home."
"WALTER!!!!!!??"
Looking back to Gillian again, Eve grasps her hand, "Oh Gilly! We found Wally! Chicken's Wally! He's in a flooded place, I think he's somewhere dry, is he?"
"He's dry but he's missing a pair of pants," a hoot of laughter follows Mad Eve's answer. "Oh.. he's dry but he's missing some pants. Did we steal his pants?" a "private" whisper to her older counterpart. "MMMMMMM."
As Eve mentions Walter, Gillian nods, understanding. Walter. The Chicken version. The one that had disappeared at some point during the war. The one who Peter had died saving in another world. Perhaps one of the ones that the precog was seeing— or perhaps not.
“We lost a Sister,” the darkly dressed Eve suddenly says, her hair shifting in a breeze that none of them can feel. “The Otter told me about her. From his world, ravaged by the virus. She was murdered. But we are four still and one.” It sounded like a song. In fact, “I think I have my next hit single brewing.” As she says it, her image seems to start to go transparent. “You guys are fa— “ That’s as far as she gets, before she and her voice are suddenly gone.
One link broken, for the moment. One stream closed. The others won’t be far behind, likely.
A lost sister? Oh no! A look of horror crosses Eve's face but she nods, they are still four and one. "Are you thinking gothic rock pop or straight up-"
They all disappear like a blink. One second there and gone the next, Mad Eve winks and holds a finger up to her lips before wiggling her fingers, "I think we need to talk about the Otter Ho-" Left with her best friend Eve looks over at Gillian with shiny eyes, "I.. I love them. Oh Gilly." Clutching her friend she goes into more detail as to what she experienced, the differences and the similarities. The different shades of her face, it has her crying soon after. Tears for the Gillian and Peter that didn't make it, the Sister who died, but there was one thing the rest of the Eves seemed to be. Happy.
In one way or another and that grounds Eve. "I hope I get to see them again." Oh the things they could talk about.
“Come here,” Gillian responded quietly, reaching out her arm to pull the woman closer. The tears are understandable, though she had expected to be the one to be crying. She had come to mourn Peter, after all. And ended up learning of something else, something very different. Though she doesn’t quite know what exactly.
“You never do anything the same as others, you know that, don’t you?” she murmurs as she wipes her own eyes, looking in the direction of the water before shaking her head. She had already done what she needed to do, really.
She had been mourning for years. “Let’s get back. You can tell me everything on the drive back.”
And from what little she saw and heard, there was a lot to tell even if it had only lasted a few moments.
“I hope you see them again, too,” that much she will add.