kaylee2_icon.gif matt_icon.gif

Scene Title Archipelago
Synopsis Two telepaths meet again and find they are connected in many ways, and even in other ways kindred spirits.
Date October 03, 2010

Deveaux Building

All important things happen here!

There's a gentle breeze on the streets of New York Sunday night that whips a little harder once you get above the height of a standard fifth storey. It picks up the edges of Matt Parkman's coat as he stands on the top of the Deveaux Building and plays against what what little of his hair there is to be tousled by such wind. His expression is stern and contemplative as he stands to the left of the cherubs that stand guard on the edge of this rooftop patio, biding his time. It's nearly six already.

Like a fisherman who enjoys being out on the boat as much as he does reeling in a catch, he lets his mind graze over the surface of the metropolis's thoughts. Given, there aren't many in Midtown at this hour, even since the memorial has been lit. But that just means that the waters are calm. It just means that when he finds that subtle buzzing texture that signifies another telepath, he won't easily lose it.

"Okay.. this place is kinda creepy." Kaylee Thatcher offers, in a mixture of amusement and blandness, like she can't decide what to think. At least she won't startle him, when she comes out onto the patio. Her hand lingers on the doorway of the small greenhouse, with it's broken glass panels. Eyes narrow as she looks skyward to those few points of light that manage to be defiant against the light pollution.

"Trying to explain to the guy I'm dating why I'm stepping out, was not easy." Kaylee steps carefully over debris making her way to the edge of the rooftop, hands moving to rest on the brick wall, long strands of blonde hair float on the wind and trail across her nose. "I don't exactly, enjoy lying to a pastor." The crooked smile she gives the Secretary, says she's not really irritated about it.

"Okay, Mr. Parkman. I'm here, as requested." Surprisingly, Hiro Nakamura hadn't shown up to whisk Kaylee away again.

The weather is in the low 60s, but clouds have blocked out most of the sun for most of the day, making the city already quite cold before the wind and impending rain even get a say in the matter. Parkman doesn't move when Kaylee arrives on the rooftop and announces herself verbally. But when she joins him at the edge, he lifts his arms to fold them across his chest and tilts his head to one side, peering down at the ragged scars below. Midtown is not the perfect place for this session to occur, but Parkman is lucky enough that a small grouping of tents have been erected in the courtyard between the shells of two buildings opposite the one on which they now stand.

He nods toward the grouping, his chin remaining relatively high after the gesture. "Tell me which one of them has a semester of college under their belt." The words are both a request and a command, and it's only after he's uttered them that he looks sidelong at the younger telepath. The younger version of himself in a number of ways.

Brow lift a bit, before she glances down, eyes narrow a bit. "A little far for me to reach." Kaylee admits blandly, even with the linger effects of the Amp that she's been continually dosed with it's a bit far. This isn't her specialty. "However…" She glances down there again and he can hear her softly counting. "There are ten people down there. The middle tent has two people and so I'm probably pretty sure I should be glad I can't actually hear their thoughts. Far right tent has four, probably a family.

"I can't focus on any of their thoughts, but I can hear the murmuring of their mental voices — it's — hard to explain — one is about to leave the tent." Followed shortly by the figure of someone stepping out. "I guess telepathic radar?" She muses a bit.

"My ability… has always been more…" Looking for a way to explain it, she finally gives a soft chuckle, going with the old stand by. "… jedi like." She waves a hand and says in a joking manner. "You know 'These are not the droids your looking for.'" She gives him a grin, but it fades a bit, looking back down there.

"You can actually, reading their thoughts?" Kaylee's question is full of curiosity. "I personally have to be much closer."

Parkman just smiles at her question. He doesn't answer it, yes or no. He just smiles a knowing sort of smile that barely reaches his eyes. "They are pretty far away," he says with a nod. "But it's not like you can test your ability on me, and we're not exactly being official, so we can't actively involve others."

He unfolds his arms and slips his hands into his pockets, turning from the edge of the roof back toward the building with it's shattered windows and charred wooden frames. "But you are a close personal friend of both my daughter, and an acquaintance of the Petrelli family. That's convenient for us." He takes a step back toward the building, frowning at the practically ancient debris that's still scattered about on the rooftop.

"I don't want you to tell me what you can do, Thatcher. I want to see you do it."

There is a glance down to the people below them, Kaylee's brows tilting up with reluctance and worry. “I don't like doing that.” She says softly, but then sighs, turning back to Matt with a resigned look. “We need to get down there, then. Get closer.” He own hands tuck into the pockets of the worm brown leather jacket she wearing against the autumn chill.

“I wouldn't want to use my ability on you anyhow. For one cause, you're the Secretary of Homeland. Not exactly someone I want to mess with the head of.” Lips press together as Kaylee makes her way back to the building.

“Met your father once, just briefly.” There is a reluctance to bringing that up, glancing over at the Secretary, Kaylee admits, “I was in awe of what he could do. I can't fool people's perceptions like that.” Her mouth ticks up a bit, but there it lack any amusement, before it falls again. “There had been a part of me that wanted to find him and see if he could teach me – at least till – “ Til Adam got to him and killed him. Just the thought of Monroe has that trigger in her head, twisting her stomach painfully, making her grimace. “Course, I've learned better since that teaching is near impossible.”

Parkman stops in his tracks when Kaylee mentions his father, and his visibly stiffens, his eyes downcast and his shoulders braced as if he were expecting a wallop from behind. When he does look at Kaylee again, his eyes are narrowed and his lips are held in a severe line. "He wasn't a very good teacher anyway," he finally says, his voice an intense whisper. He coughs, then shakes his head and continues on toward the broken shell of the penthouse attached to the patio.

"This is one of those things where you have to learn by doing," and perhaps Matt is Kaylee's best guide, even if he didn't pick up on all his father's tricks before shoving the man into a subconscious prison. "There's no textbook, no…user's manual. It's all too…" and he lifts a hand, spreading his fingers and moving it at the wrists in a twisting motion. "…fuzzy for anything like that. Concepts. The brain is like a control center, right? And we're kind of like hackers into that control center." Hopefully Kaylee knows enough about systems, or even a technopath, to get the comparison.

"We're like puppet masters." Kaylee agrees softly, nodding. She's always seen herself as Eric similar in that way, just different methods. "Everything that is us is locked in our brains, so we can in a sense control everything that makes people who they are." The young blonde sounds completely serious about that. "There is a fine line we walk when we are in there too."

It's easy to step to one side of the line or the other, Kaylee is intimately familiar with the struggle not to fall off that tight rope of morality and choices.

More then happy to follow the older man's lead, Kaylee is thoughtful. "It also makes us outcasts and untrusted, but also tools that people want to use for their own gains." There is a wrinkle of her nose, a testament that she has probably been there. She kicks a a small broken bit of wood with the toe of her booted foot, sending it clattering ahead of her.

When they reach the fire escape, Matt gestures for Kaylee to walk ahead of him down the metal structure bolted to the side of the brick building. "Everyone is like that, Thatcher," he says with a shake of his head. "Say you're a hydro. You can bring water some African village that's had a drought for months, or you can cause a tsunami. It doesn't matter what your ability is, there's a choice attached to it. Ethics. You ask people before you read their thoughts, don't you? You get permission before you go digging around in their heads?"

"Of course," Kaylee actually sounds insulted that he might think otherwise, giving him a look that goes along with it. Stepping out onto the fire escape, she does admit, "It wasn't that way when I was younger tho. I was in high school when I had my first incident."

The metal of the fire escape rattles under the soles of her shoes. "I don't just go into their heads, it's cheating, especially when it comes to relationships. You'll never learn trust if you keep peeking into the others head, you have to have faith in them." It's a lesson she's had to learn on her own, it took the longest to learn. Besides, with what she can do and the temptation that goes with it, better to stay out.

Trust is, in so many ways, overrated.

If Kaylee were able to read Matt's thoughts, that would be the axiom she'd find there, whispered begrudgingly by the man as he follows her down the fire escape, his own weight making the metal clank despite how lightly he tries to tread. These are all things he had to learn in the first year he had his ability - all things he's either come to accept or live with. Of course, the "line of duty" clause makes the day-to-day use of his power coupled with the security of the nation another ball of wax entirely.

"I don't believe you," he says, a faint smile coloring his words. "That you don't do it. You may ask, sure, but you do it. Or you want to. You can't be given something like this and then want to go back to relying on gut feelings. Not when you can know."

Stopping, Kaylee turns to face Matt, hand gripping the railing on both sides of her, expression deadly serious. Sure she has to tilt her head back to look him in the eye, but she does it. "Shows what you know." The blonde sounds a little pissy. Brows tick up in a challenging manner, chin lifting just a little. "My ability is on all the damn time, I don't really get a break from it. I have to keep a barrier up between me and everyone around me and even that isn't enough at times. I can hear the murmuring hum of minds all around me. Crowds are a bitch. If people are thinking too loud, I can't not hear it. So yeah, the temptation is there to peek and take a look, but I have spent a year fighting that instinct.

"I've spent a whole year, fretting over a guy, cause I refused to peek into his head to see what he even thought of me." That and she was scared, but still… "I didn't get the friends I have, by stick my nose into their heads, I've worked very hard not to be a stereo typical telepath." Blue eyes roam over his features, before she shakes her head and turns to start down again.

"I was once told, I'm wasting my gift, but honestly… It's as much a pain in the ass, as it is a tool." As they get close to the end of the line, her eyes go towards those tents and she sighs. It's never kept her from getting shot… twice.

Kaylee is met with that same knowing smile that curls the very corners of the man's mouth and lifts his eyebrows slightly. "Thatcher, there's no such thing as a stereotypical telepath," he says as he steps off the fire escape, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. "Asprin works for that, by the way. Quiets it." Not that Matt himself can afford such a numbing. He's learned to dial down the static rather than shut off the stream entirely.

Nodding toward the grouping of tents, he starts to walk to the corner of the building. They pass his car on the way - the same car he was in when he found Kaylee yesterday. If the van is also nearby, it's nowhere to be seen. "I could always negate you," he muses, "find out what you can do by digging around in your brain. Take it as a compliment I'm not."

"And trust me… I appreciate it. Bad enough I'm gonna feel the need for a scalding hot shower after I show you." There is a little scrunching of her nose, but she follows stopping at that corner and eyeing those tents. "I'm going against my own moral code." She looks at him, blandly and not a bit happy. "But… you'll get your demonstration."

That said a hand lifts and he hears her whisper, Stop.»" At the edge of the tent city, a man stops. Obviously, there is power in what she's doing, even if Matt can't see it for himself. Come to us.»" There is a furrow of Kaylee's brows, mouth pulled into a frown, even as a trill of enjoyment shiver up her spine when the man starts to walk towards them. While she waits for the man to get closer, she says softly to Matt, "I'm a manipulator. I can't change his perceptions of the world like your dad, but I can make him do what I want, think what I want — " She looks at Matt, there is no pride in what she says, " — remember what I want of this encounter.

"You sure you want me to do all that?" Kaylee almost hopes he says no, but…

He's not wandering toward a middle-aged man and a college-aged girl dressed like they belong in a much more civilized area of the city - instead, he's coming toward two refugees not unlike himself, with dirty faces and clothes. People with nowhere else to go for whatever reason. People who hide in the shadows and scars of Midtown after dark, just like him. It's not a difficult illusion to create, and it's one the haggard man picks up on before he's halfway across the street, giving Matt leave to watch Kaylee again.

"You plant suggestions," he murmurs, thinking back to the own persuasive elements of his own ability as well as those he found in Melissa. He dips once more into the man's mind, but Kaylee's commands don't feel like the ones he unraveled a few days ago. Besides, she's too young, to…inexperienced to create such masterful works of mental manipulation.

"I want to see him not remember this," he whispers as the man nears the sidewalk on their side of the broken street.

"Sorta… " Kaylee isn't completely convinced of the wording. "I can't really… plant… say a trigger." She doesn't know how to explain her ability. She offers the man a bright smile as he's close. "Hi. «Just stand there for me?»" There is a slow nod of the man's head, even as Kaylee reaches to touch the man's temple her eyes closing as she slips into his head.

Matt would see it as a dark room, lengths of film flickering by every which way and direction. The man's memories put to film strips. I can't make him forget it… I mean. I can… sorta. The words echoing in the man's head as if they were standing in a room together. He can probably almost see her standing there watching the memories flicker past. At her neck there are two softly glowing points of red, almost seem to stare at him.

I can block a memory, but it's temporary, unless I have help. Like Amp. Yes, she know about that stuff. The telepath reaches out to pull one strip of film closer, letting it slide over the palm of her hand as she considers it. Finally, she brackets her hands about it and then flings them apart plunging them into the earliest parts of the memory. I can, however, change what he saw. The two figures that represent them, suddenly change as words are whispers softly. They shift from one appearance to another, even switching the genders on both of them.

Or. The memory blur a little and becomes hazy, but finally, She shuts the door on it and locks it, blocking it. He'll have a hell of a time opening it again, the Amp lingering in her blood stream boilstering her ability, a little.

Eyes open and Kaylee glances over at Matt, brows tilting up in a 'Well?' sort of way.

"Go back to your family."

Parkman's words, spoken for Kaylee's benefit, sending the man back toward the tents, if a bit confused. Like he wandered toward these people, then forgot why.

"You have to touch them?" the older telepath asks, his voice a whisper once more. If anything, knowing that he and Kaylee can both be in the mind of a third party, given that third party is weak-willed enough, and communicate therein, makes the exercise worthy enough in and of itself. It seems like an easy enough concept to grasp and try himself, should he ever need to. Then again, practice makes perfect, and if he were to not adequately erase or alter a memory in the course of his work, it could have undesirable adverse effects.

"It helps a lot to be touching them. Otherwise I wear down faster." Kaylee says softly with a lop-sided smile, watching the man leave. "I can listen into thoughts hands free easily, listen to the humming around me effortlessly, but when I need to do some serious work, touch is best."

Her gaze drifts to the ground, before she turns her head to look at the other telepath. "That's just a little of what I do. Doesn't seem like much, but I once pieced a man's shattered memory back together. Pulled Mrs. Petrelli out of a coma that her own husband put her in, sticking her in a nightmare of a memory and locking her in there." Gee? Sound familiar Matt?

"I can make someone see a memory a little more clearly, or at least remember it." Kaylee folds her arms over her chest, most to stave off the feeling she gets anymore when she plays with someones mind. "I could make that man think he's in love with me, completely devoted, or make him hate me. Could make my teachers give me A's — not that I do mind you, it's just an example." The assurance comes quickly, not wanting him to think differently.

Her head shakes, "I don't want that on my record, what I could do it nasty. That's at least a Teir 2… or worse, worthy of Level 5 if the Company was still around." Kaylee knows a lot about Level 5, thanks to her dealings with a certain founder.

It's hard to make a comparison between how Kaylee describes her ability and the Company's hypothetical reaction to it. Maury was a founder, but if he hadn't been and they are capable of so much, where would he have landed given his own moral ambiguity. But Matt pushes those thoughts to some dusty corner of his mind to be lost among cobwebs and cockroaches. He turns back toward his car once the man is halfway across the street once more, his expression one of distracted introspection.

"No worse than any persuader," he says with a shake of his head, "and they're usually Tier 2." Which is what he is, and thanks to his role in the public sector, it's a well known fact. "The issue is control. How much control do you have over your ability, that sort of thing. Molly's Tier 1, but if she wanted to, she could cause all sorts of trouble." When they reach the car again, he walks around to the driver's side and fishes his keys from his coat pocket. They jingle, but he doesn't withdraw them. Instead, he pulls out a business card and holds it across to Kaylee. It has his personal cell number and address at Dorchester scrawled on the back of his more official D.C. information.

"You ever need to talk, just call. It's hard being able to… to do stuff like we do. I can't promise I'll be much help, but I can be a set of ears."

There is only a moment of hesitation before Kaylee reaching to take the card, it's held gingerly in her fingers as she reads the print. Lips press together and she waves it a bit. "You know… five years ago, I could of used someone like you around. Maybe my choices in life would have been better. I am thankful, however, that I found people to set me straight, but… woulda been nice in the beginning.

"Even if it had been my own father, who had an ability too." Another glance goes to the card, before she tucks it into her pocket and regards Homeland's Secretary. "Thanks, Parkman." It's genuine those words. "I mean… beyond that bit of blackmail, it's been nice to talk to you about this stuff… someone that really understands." A smile tugging up a corner of her mouth as she adds, "Even if you trust so little, as per your job.

"Let Molly know I'm thinking about her, would ya?" Brows tick up in an expectant manner, as Kaylee takes a step back from the car. "And.. you'll probably be hearing from me." No doubt, she'll have her own questions later on.

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