Black Moonlight


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Scene Title Black Moonlight
Synopsis The near full moon is cast over the city, for once clear enough to see the stars as well as the moon, and a certain power augmenter runs into a precog… and opens up Pandora's Box. Then she's forced to call a taxi cab. Taxi Cab gets to take two girls home for the night.
Date January 12, 2009

Ruins of Midtown

Standing in the ruins of Midtown, it's hard to believe New York is still a living city.

There's life enough around the fringes — the stubborn, who refused to rebuild somewhere else; the hopeful, who believe the radiation is gone, or that they somehow won't be affected. Businesses, apartment complexes, taxis and bicycles and subways going to and fro — life goes on. Perhaps more quietly than in other parts of the city, shadowed by the reminder that even a city can die, but it does go on.

Then there is the waste. The empty core for which the living city is only a distant memory. Though a few major thoroughfares wind through the ruins, arteries linking the surviving halves, and the forms of some truly desperate souls can occasionally be glimpsed skulking in the shadows, the loudest noise here is of the wind whistling through the mangled remnants of buildings. Twisted cords of rebar reach out from shattered concrete; piles of masonry and warped metal huddle on the ground, broken and forlorn. Short stretches of road peek out from under rubble and dust only to disappear again shortly afterwards, dotted with the mangled and contorted forms of rusting cars, their windows long since shattered into glittering dust.

There are no bodies — not even pieces, not anymore. Just the bits and pieces of destroyed lives: ragged streamers fluttering from the handlebar which juts out of a pile of debris; a flowerbox turned on its side, coated by brick dust, dry sticks still clinging to the packed dirt inside; a lawn chair, its aluminum frame twisted but still recognizable, leaning against a flight of stairs climbing to nowhere.

At the center of this broken wasteland lies nothing at all. A hollow scooped out of the earth, just over half a mile across, coated in a thick layer of dust and ash. Nothing lives here. Not a bird; not a plant. Nothing stands here. Not one concrete block atop another. There is only a scar in the earth, cauterized by atomic fire. This is Death's ground.

After helping more at the Foxhole with Grace, Eve decided to come to the ruins to think on some things. Dressed in her tank top and jeans. Eve's hair is still in the ponytail and she stares up at the sky looking at the moon.

The ruins had never been Gillian's favorite place to hang out, especially at night, but as she wanders down the broken alley ways in the opposite direction of Phoenix's headquarters, she can't help but keep an eye out for people. Paranoid of patrols, that sort of thing. The only clothes really visible is the long coat that's not fitted for her at all. It's definitely a man's, and for someone much taller than her. Her thick soled boots barely peek out from under as she walks. It's the tank top and jeans that catch her eyes and makes her move out the broken alley and more into the moonlit area. "Isn't it a little cold for that?" Is this a crazy person?

Yes it is a crazy person. "Yes it's cold but I just got done helping a friend.. move so I'm a little hot." Eve says without looking away from the sky, the wind blows loose strands of her hair into her face. "I don't have too much to worry about, my jacket is in my car." Eve says softly and then takes the moment to look at Gillian. "Name's Eve." She says with a soft smile.

"Guess work does wonders to keep people warm, even in this cold," Gillian admits, though there's a skeptical tone to her voice, as if she's not sure the woman has her sanity intact. The same wind catches her hair, causing her to pull her coat tighter around her. A scar comes visible on the side of her forehead, a straight line. Whatever caused the injury was deep and precise, and recent. There's some puffyness around the mostly healed wound, signs of stitches that have begun to dissolve into her skin. "Gillian," she answers after a moment, continuing closer and glancing up at the moon. "Big moon. I guess this is one part of town you can actually see it well enough to appreciate it. Less lights."

"Nice to meet you Gillian. Yeah, I come here a lot to think and.. watch the stars. Beautiful isn't it, though this place is a site of desolation and death, the view you get of the sky is breathtaking." Eve says and she offers her hand to shake Gillian's, she notices a shift in the energy in the area around the two and a few images flash before her eyes. Eve wrinkles her forehead in confusion, she doesn't see vision while awake.. but she continues to hold her hand out in front of her for Gillian to shake, unaware of the consequences of what will happen when the two make contact.

There's no major drain on her ability that she notices, though the flashes exist in the corner of the woman's eyes. Could be she's tired, from keeping the ability knotted up all day— Either way, Gillian doesn't immediately assume anything will happen. Most of the people in the city are normal, right? Sure, she seems a little nuts, to be out in the cold, talking to the stars in a place where a hundred thousand plus people lost their lives… "I wouldn't say it's beautiful, but it certainly has it's moments, I guess." She shrugs her shoulders, reaching out toward her hand. The purple glow, like a black light, will spring up immediately. Around her hand, around the woman's hand, in the depths of the scarred woman's eyes… She should really think twice before shaking people's hands.

"I guess I cou-" Eve's response is cut off as she makes contact with Gillian. Her eyes instantly turn milk white and she throws her head back and gapes. "Holy shit.." she says softly.

A series of visions are thrown at Eve, the first of.. is that Gillian's behind? On her rear end is a new tattoo, just finished, of a nicely done stylized number thirteen. She knows that it is Gillian's because, the other woman is pulling up her pants after having the tattoo done.

Next. A forest.. there are buildings in the background that seemed to be covered with plants. The sun is shining and it's like Eve is walking through a real forest. That image only stays with Eve for a second so she doesn't get to see everything at least not now she doesn't. The hair on the back of her arms are standing up and she opens and closes her mouth. "Forest city.." she mumbles under her breath but Gillian might have been able to hear her.

Eve's white eyes are wide open in shock as she finds herself on the bridge from her dream with the shadow and wolf stalking towards her. The bridges then all explode like in her dream and instead of waking up like she did when she had the dream, everything stops.. and Eve screams.. /loudly/ the assault of visions is wearing on her and she falls to her knees, hand still clenched tightly to Gillian's.

Another flash, this one of Kazimir walking down the alley towards a Eve who has fallen onto the ground. "Life.." is said as the man shrouded in shadow comes closer. " but a walking shadow."//

Then it's like someone has stuffed a sock in Eve's mouth because of how abruptly her screaming stopped. Then another vision plays for Eve, hopefully the last.

Eve will see an office with a mahogony desk in the center, lit only by a single desk lamp. She sees a man seated at the desk with his hands folded and head bowed. The man is Nathan Petrelli. The door to the office opens, and Nathan raises his head, looking up to the door, mouth opening and about to speak someone's name, but his expression quickly changes from hopeful to confused. In the doorway, the silhouette of a man steps partly out of the darkness into the light of the desk lamp, wearing a winter parka, and carrying a revolver which he aims at Nathan. "Mister Petrelli." He says in a firm, rough tone. Then pulls the trigger, and shoots Nathan.

The force of the visions and replayed dreams has made Eve fall back onto the ground with a thud. Her body shakes and shivers as the dark purple glow dances over her body and eyes for a few more seconds. Her hair has fallen out of it's ponytail and her eyes remain open. Stuck in a expression of horror.

The drain of energy is felt almost instantly, but for the moment Gillian can't let go, mostly because the woman's grip is tighter than expected, and she's falling. For a moment she's afraid to let go, for the sheer fact the woman could hurt herself. Cutting off the flow of energy doesn't happen as fast as it probably should, either. All that training with Gabriel, and she's still not great and shutting it off once it's started, not when she wasn't expecting it.

"Eve?" A woman she only just met, and one she knows she's harming in some way. The milky white eyes remind her of the time she watched Gabriel paint the future. She often wondered what an augmented painting would be. Maybe she's the same, and she doesn't need a brush to do it? Maybe the augmentation takes away the medium she usually requires— When she's down, she can finally pry her hand back, the glow disappears, staying around her for a few moments. "Fuck," she curses under her breath, closing her eyes and focusing on the knot in the back of her head. She feels weak from whatever that was. Not too bad, though. Not like when the Peters and Gabriel fought. Tying off the ability in the back of her head, she bends down and tries to touch her, shaking her shoulder. "Hey, you okay? What happened? What did you— what happened to you?"

Eve is looks at Gillian, her eyes slowly returning back to their normal but eerie light grey color. "I.." the seer blinks her eyes and looks at Gillian in shock. "I saw it all." She gasps for air and coughs violently, from all that screaming. "A butt tattoo? Is all Eve asks before she closes her eyes.. open.. shut.. open.. shut.. open.. /shut/. Though the woman is still talking, so low that Gillian would have to lean in to hear, "Have to get to /Peter/. Warn him." She says softly, Gillian is going to lose Eve to unconscious soon.

"A— butt tattoo?" Gillian kinda asks, then takes a moment to think on it. She doesn't have a tattoo on her butt yet. It isn't a bad idea for tattoo number 13. She just hadn't thought of it quite like that before. 13 sounds good, too. But! Then she says that name. "Peter. Fuck. Don't tell me you know Assface too." But it could be another Peter. It could be. "Are you talking about Peter fucking Petrelli?" Cause if she is, god damnit. Can she never escape that Assface? "Hey, stay awake!"

"Petrelli.." Eve opens her eyes again but they are unfocused, looking in every direction and her mouth hangs open. "Have to find him.. important." Is what Eve makes out. Her eyes flutter and then shut. "/Help/ me. Can't it happen, so much seen.." That's it for Eve, her head lies to the side and she breathes like she is sleeping. The images of Nathan Petrelli being shot are the last things Eve sees and most likely the thing Eve will be dreaming about the most.

"Son of a fucking bitch," Gillian mutters under her breath, wanting to curse so much more than that as she kneels beside the woman losing consciousness. There's nothing she can really do besides grip her shoulder and try to shake her a time or two more. It's too cold to leave her out there— and she knows Peter. Go fucking figure. It takes a lot of manuvering for her to get the woman's arm over her shoulder and pull her up against her side, but as soon as she's got her off the ground enough, she starts working her way back to the broken alley ways— in the direction of the Library. It's close. And if they turn her away, at least she can ask the Brians to help take her somewhere else— "Fucking Christ— I'm not a weightlifter…" she complains, stopping in the alley. 42nd and… Madison. She just passed Madison. Putting Eve down, she pulls out a cellphone and dials a number, one she promised herself she'd only call for an emergency. Well. This is a big flashing red light.

The phone rings for quite a while, but just before Gillian can give up, someone answers. There's a sleepy, utterly incoherent mumble, then muffled sounds of someone moving. "Gillian?" The speaker was definitely asleep at the time of the call, it seems, groggy sounding. "What's wrong?"

There's a few muffled curses as each ring takes her closer and closer to huffing it another block with someone too big for her to logically carry, but then… Gillian's quiet prayers to the god of books is answered. "Fuck, Kent, I didn't think you were going to answer— I know this is kind of a— huge favor— but can you get over to 42nd and Madison? It's right on the edge of the rad zone, I know, but… can you?"

"Midtown?" Kent asks, obviously dubious. "I… are you okay?" More rustling, like perhaps someone is trying to pull on clothes while not letting the phone drop. "What happened, is— you're not hurt or— there aren't any melting crazy Evolved or something like that, is there— ?"

"No, no— no melting Evolved," Gillian responds, looking down at Eve and actually poking at her once or twice. She's solid. No blood dripping out of anything— though she may have bruises and scraps from the librarian's attempt to move her. "There's someone who's unconscious, though— It's my fault. They— touched me. And— look, I'm okay, I just don't have a car and it's fucking cold and I can't carry this woman much further." There's a pause, her teeth are even chattering just a bit, not even exaggerated, "Can you help?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I can help. 42nd and Madison." And with that? He hangs up. Gillian will just have to hope that he does as asked… although for a teleporter, his appearance is less than instantaneous. A few minutes go by, and there's next to nothing. No movement, no sound. And then without prelude, a familiar voice breaks the chilly Midtown silence.

"Gillian?" The sound of jogging footsteps, coming nearer, on ice and gravel. "Fuck me, this place— Gillian?" And then he comes into view, in his usual practical, mismatched attire, glasses flashing in moonlight. Kent turns, spies them, and promptly disappears — only to reappear a few feet away, looking breathless. "I don't know my way around this place," is his defense.

Best Taxi Cab ever. The moonlight casts down on the broken buildings as Gillian puts away her disposable phone and settles down beside the woman she's laying in rubble on the edge of an alley. It's not exactly at Madison, but she can see the corners of Madison and 42nd from where she's sitting. Good thing the moon's nearly full…

When he appears, she pushes herself up and waves at him. "I know, you're not exactly a New Yorker," she says, actually rather nice for a change. Then again, he's saving her ass— again? Sort of. She pushes her hair back and tries to pull the coat closer. "This is Eve," she gestures towards the unconscious woman, "I touched her and I think she saw something. Like the future maybe? Or— I dunno. Everything maybe."

Kent wraps his arms around himself, panting steam into the cold air, and nods. "Just gimme a sec," he says. Space-jumping, as he calls it, tends to take a bit out of him. It'd be so much easier if he could travel blind, without Gillian's help. Maybe one day. He brings up a gloved hand to adjust his scarf around him, peering down at the unconscious woman, cringing. "Wow. Way to put someone in a coma. You sure do have a way with people." Pause. "I'm an asshole. Is she going to be okay?"

"Don't make me punch you into Mexico," Gillian says, giving him a long look as he admits he's an asshole. The poor woman! "I didn't mean to. I just shook her hand. I've kept my ability knotted up all day and I was finally getting a quiet walk back home and— I didn't think she would— what are the chances, you know? Not eveyone in the city has a crazy ability like us." Though she's starting to wonder! "I hope so. She stayed conscious for a few moments after it— said we needed to warn somebody." Somebody. … Melting people. Arwen. Assface. Broken watch. "Remember that melting thing?" Where he ditched her at the hospital with the hurt woman! "Remember the assface guy, the one in the suit? I met him a few times after that, actually— seems he's the one she wants to warn about something. Must have been pretty bad."

Kent stifles a yawn, hands up to rub his face under his glasses, readjusting them once he's done. "You have epic strolling habits," he says, flatly, looking over his shoulder at the abandoned neighbourhood. "It's fucking dangerous out here, Gillian. Doing what you can do… I mean— you should… probably be more careful." That started with conviction, but quickly petered out, Kent sighing and shrugging off his own show of concern. Not his business. "Well, we should take her somewhere safe for now and she can talk to the Flying Flamer when she's less in a coma, you know? Do you want to go to a hospital?"

Dangerous, yes, yes. Gillian won't mention the glock in the men's coat she's wearing. And this situation proved that sometimes it's more dangerous to the people she meets than it is to her… "I was only going a little further and then I was calling a cab," she clarifies, giving him a long look. A real cab, not him. "We should wait til later, year— I don't want to even try to look for — flying flamer…" That makes her pause to smile for a moment. "… until we know what we're warning him about." She kneels down so she can grab onto the woman, and then holds her hand up at him, "Your place?"

Kent comes to crouch down on the opposite side of Eve, studying her face for a moment, before his hand goes to grip her arm. "Yeah, okay. It's not like that place sees a lot of action." And Kent slips his hand into Gillian's, the cut out fingers of his glove enabling that skin-to-skin contact. Instantaneously, all three disappear without ceremony, just the faintest sound of a vacuum as air rushes to fill in the open space left behind.

The journey is just as unremarkable, not even the photo-book-flickering that Gillian might have been familiar with. Perhaps Kent is honing is accuracy, utilising Gillian's burst of power in the most economical way. Barely a blink and they appeared in the trailer park, on the snow right outside his home. It's nighttime, late at night, and winter - no one's around to see.

Kent releases both women, breathing out a sigh into the cold, before fishing out keys from his pocket and handing them to Gillian. "Let yourself in," he instructs, and then he's moving to pick up Eve from the snow. "Come along, Sleeping Beauty."

The trailer park, or her apartment, were really the only choices outside the Library, or something else like the Loft she slept in. Taking an Evolved into a Hospital suffering from 'Evolved' things isn't on her agenda. Gillian pushes herself to her feet, dusting off a little as she gives herself a small shake. "Actually feeling less like I want to throw up the more you do that. Should give you a tip." But two women staying in his trailer for at least a night might be tip enough. Straightened, she stretches once, and then makes her way, as instructed, to the door. The door is opened, and she waits for him to get there with the sleeping beauty so that she can hold it open for him. The power drains, though— they're making her more than a little sleepy. May be why she doesn't offer to help beyond holding the door open.

And Kent doesn't ask for it, Eve draped in his arms like so many Disney princesses, or perhaps Disney evil queens considering her styling choices. He's careful not to bump her head on anything, even once he's inside the cramped confines of his trailer. It's neat and tidy, for a single twenty-something, although the bed is unmade - still warm, in fact, from him sleeping in it not minutes ago. This is where Eve is laid down to sleep off her vision hangover. "You can tip me anytime," he finally says to Gillian, throwing a blanket over Eve. "If she murders me in my sleep, it'll cost you extra."

January 13th: The Lion and the Wolf
January 12th: Line In The Sand
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