Participants:
| Scene Title | Change The World |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | When you've had a hand in it once, twice, or three times over… |
| Date | August 20, 2020 |
Some have gone out to lunch in the Williamsburg neighborhood, business people, contractors, lawyers but there was only one of which Eve Mas was seeking this day. The little brick building that houses eight professionals altogether has been something of a vulturing point for the former seer who perches a rooftop across from the office building, eyeing the windows and the street and the air.
There's a shiver that runs down her shoulders and spine and she changes her posture to be more erect, dressed in a dark blue dress that clings to her middle and drapes at her arms. A simple pair of heels, black and her equally as dark mane of hair twisted into a high ponytail with a braid. Eye makeup done in the style of cat's eyes and her lip dark, Eve seems to be as professional looking as she can manage. "Shall we?" She asks the sky while tipping her head back before she leaps into the air and her body dissolves into a fog of a crimson hue.
The nimbus floats over towards the window belonging to Tasha Lazzaro's office. The ever persistent glow of people's energies below call out to her but she does not heed it, she's learned she gains nothing from the sapping of energy. It was already August, Christmas approached faster and faster but Eve could not give up now.
She had affairs to take care of.
The blood red fog seeps into the window, crawling over the sofa reserved for clients. Slowly the cloud shapes itself into the shape of a woman, Eve's physical body just seems to fade into existence through the fog until eventually all that's left is her, grin and all. A pale leg kicks out and is placed over the other, black heel bouncing slightly.
"Hellloooo sweet Tashface," Eve's tone is cheerful. The viral videos, her reputation and relationship with Tasha's father surely precedes her.
Tasha has her head down working on the tricky wording of a response to opposing counsel of her current case. The coffee beside her has been forgotten and grown cool, and a half-eaten banana sits abandoned as well. She doesn’t notice the red mist that creeps into her office like she’s in a horror movie, so it’s the sound of Eve’s boots voice that alerts her to the presence of the other woman in the room.
She visibly jumps — luckily she wasn’t drinking her coffee or it would be all over her new blouse.
“Next time,” she says slowly, trying to will her heart to stop pounding, “I’d really appreciate it if you used the door, Eve.”
Her tone is dry. She’s definitely Vincent’s offspring.
Still, she rises, moving to the seating area to face the woman on the sofa. Of course, she knows who Eve is — everyone in America does. But she’s seen her at galas, funerals, or weddings, and of course on Pollepel Island once or twice from a distance. Somehow they never met, face to face.
“What can I help you with?” Tasha asks, as she sits down on a chair facing Eve.
"Doors can be so boring! But I will try my absolute hardest to knocky knock knock," The older woman places her hands in her lap politely and looks around the room before returning Tasha's gaze.
"Well," She pauses and closes her eyes, considering. She's had weeks, even months to think on this. Plan ahead, "I want to change the world." Eve's grin widens and her crimson eyes glitter with excitement when they open again, as if this was the most exciting venture she would embark on and who would argue that it wasn't?
"You've seen the videos yes? You know my woes with the good ol law of the land. I maintain my innocence but that's not enough." Eve had the pleasure of being believed sometimes by the masses and viewed as an utter liar the other times. Both were true statements. This time was the former but one could never know with Eve Mas.
"What happens when an Expressive, or anyone, dies and is brought back to life? What happens to their property, their coin?" Eve poses the question with a tilt of her head.
Tasha inclines her head. She has in fact seen the videos and knows more than the average New Yorker about some of what happened in Detroit. “Before you tell me anything about your part in anything, give me a dollar so we have attorney-client privilege,” she says with a small smile. There’s more to it than that, of course, but it’ll work in a pinch.
The rest she can answer, even without having any sort of contract with Eve. “Death is a little complicated, but obviously you aren’t really dead, so it’s not as complicated as it might be. In cases where people received life insurance or were married — that’s where it can get a little dicey, but those are cases where someone came back to death after several years, not months or weeks.”
Crossing one slim leg over the other’s knee, the petite attorney folds her hands on top of her knee and smiles. “Probate — even if someone claimed you dead and a right to your property — takes months, so your return will simply halt it. Do you have a will? And if you don’t have a will, do you have living relatives, like parents, siblings, children that would show up on record?”
"I-" Eve immediately begins digging in her bra, "Know I left some… in her- there we are." The eccentric woman pulls a crumpled up five dollar bill out from her dress and wildly waves it in the air, "Bingo! Bingo!" She hasn't even had coffee, how is she like this?
Handing it over while nodding, absorbing the information that she is being given. "Ok ok, I have a will! Gilly- Gillian Childs's name is on all my offish documents! The bar, my medical records, my will! I think it's at her house." Eve wonders aloud and looks upwards towards the ceiling.
"I don't want this just for me, how hard is it to get one of those new laws written, hm? Is it expensive?" A pause, "I suppose I could always ask Moni and The Rays for a loan, a grant! It's charity, for the people." It's clear that Eve is ambitious.
"Maybe we should start with what happened! Should I tell you? I don't think we have laws for being possessed by an otherworldly entity that decided to do a murder with your body, mmm?" Her energy is still frantic, same as the news and the videos over the years. The fact that this woman is known for murder even before Detroit can sometimes seem unreliable with the way Eve protrays herself but she almost always had an edge there just beneath the surface, behind that mischievous glint in her eyes. The look of a maniac.
Eve coughs and folds her hands in her lap again, composing herself. "It has been a whirlwind of a few months, forgive my enthusiasm at finally getting my name cleared and business sorted." Shoulders back, head high. You're a Mas, girl. Words from her strict grandmother Amelia ring in her mind.
The bill, Tasha takes and tucks into her blouse pocket, nodding at the mention of a will, then watching with some amusement as Eve begins to spin off in a few different directions. Behind that is some worry, and there’s little doubt she’s Vincent Lazzaro’s daughter in the wry expression she wears.
“That’s a lot to cover, so let’s slow it down a bit,” the lawyer says. “Probate, as I said, usually takes several months, so that’s easy enough to halt. Gillian’s your friend, so I’m sure she won’t fight you on that, so that’ll make it easier. You’ve already alerted the government to your very-alive status, so it won’t be too hard to prove you’re actually alive, unless they can prove you’re not you — since we live in a time of clones and shapeshifters, it’s not a given.”
Tasha rises, heading to her desk to pick up a pen and notepad, before returning to the chair and perching on its edge once more. “Didn’t you watch Schoolhouse Rock?” she says with a smile. “I mean, it’s a lot more complicated than that but basically a congressperson needs to introduce a bill to its house, so you need to get a congressperson on your side. Lobbying for it might take some cash, but it depends on the law, the congressperson, a lot of things.”
There’s a question to ask there of course — what law? — but there’s the issue of the entity and mass murder and other matters. “I’m fairly sure they know it wasn’t you in Detroit. Can I ask, um, how you aren’t dead?”
There is something about the Lazzaro's that makes Eve want them to understand her and so she surely does slow down at Tasha's direction and nods her head. "Yes yes, Gilly will help, my sister! I've saved her life a few times you know and she me! Bonded."
Eve 'mmms' at the talk of Schoolhouse Rock and congressperson, "I see!" Her brow furrows and she taps her chin, "We must find a congressperson, someone that would sympathize. Someone unafraid to toe the line in favor of the Expressives. We must find… a friend," the former seer had never seemed so serious on camera or any of the times that Tasha had seen her around.
The thing that's changed Eve is held within the question that Tasha asks and the older woman leans back on the sofa and falls silent. Flashes of events race through her mind and she closes crimson eyes and tilts her head back. "On February 27th I brought a close group of friends out to the coast pass Virginia. You see Tash, I had been on the hunt for a very bad man. Adam Monroe, but as my hunt progressed over the years well… I was led to something else." How much to actually reveal to the woman?
How much had Tamara hinted at already in their home?
"I found Adam on a boat that day but I didn't realize, I was a homing beacon for this other thing, it showed up too." Eve's tone in a whisper and she slowly opens her eyes to stare directly up at the ceiling. "Pulled him apart like a weaver removing a stitch from a dress, it unravels before me. The Old Guy, Silas, he held up a gun. Bang. That Something Else bit a bullet but then I became a prize, a host for it." Her expression is grim as she lowers her head to now look in Tasha's eyes with an unwavering gaze.
"What happened next you know, 'I' appeared in Detroit. A little murder murder here, carnage sprinkled there. But something happened, my friends intercepted, they changed the course. I was blown up, but then I woke up on a cold metal table in a morgue! The poor docs might have wet themselves, because you see!" Eve leans forward a little, "This Something Else? Its power, its gift is to change itself and anyone else's tiny little genes into whatever it wants. I've been unlucky enough to be on the receiving end twice. This time though, I don't think they did it on purpose. I think I stole it."
Admitting to a crime that she can't be prosecuted for is a relief but there might still be a consequence for her actions, or the actions of fate. Eve knew when she saw the Dragon again the time for talk and stories will probably be at an end. "What I have now?" She laughs and holds up her hand, studying the pale limb with a curious expression on her face. "From what I've been able to learn, I hop to a new body when this one dies." Its as simple as Eve can explain it but it leaves Tasha with probably more questions, one of them having to be:
How was Eve displaying more than one ability?
The fact she’s in someone else’s body raises legal and ethical questions that Tasha isn’t prepared to address yet, other than a small furrow between her brows that makes her look like a feminine version of her father — another point she isn’t prepared to acknowledge, much as she loves him.
“The creation of a law is not necessarily my specialty but I may be able to advise if you plan to write one yourself, though it would be simply a draft that would likely see quite a few changes before it ever gets through to a vote,” Tasha says. “The other matters — stopping your probate — is probably simple enough. I am not a criminal defense lawyer, but I’m sure I can put you into contact with one, should you need one, but my guess is the charges against you will be dropped if the US Government is aware of the fact you were not actually yourself. Shapeshifters, illusionists… you aren’t the first person to look like you did something you didn’t do.”
She really hopes there’s evidence of some sort.
“If you want to make a good case for yourself, you should probably turn yourself into SESA and explain things on your end. Nicole’s still taking a leave of absence, but I can contact someone else over there,” Tasha says. “I can be present, of course, but there are better defense attorneys than me. What is the law you want to make, out of curiosity?”
"Well that would be just lovely!"
Eve claps her hands and nods, being absolved of any guilt is the goal but then Tasha is saying what everyone is saying and the former seer smiles weakly and nods her head. "I will! Not without the right proof and talking to you, of course. And whatever other lawyer friends I have to meet!" The government was hunting for her but it was also not hounding her relentlessly. Or maybe they were and Eve was failing to see the severity around the situation.
"I want to help make things easier for us, people like me. What is that… precedent? Yes precedent, we need laws in place for if you die and come back. Getting the impressions that the psychics of the world have used in court. But baby steps right? So the first would be a law giving you a year within your resurrection to reclaim your property and such. Does that make sense?"
Writing a law and having friends who could help bring it to the floor, she needed these friends. If only Vincent was able to give her contacts, not like he would. Off the books contact.
Tasha bites her lower lip as she stares at Eve for a long moment, then clears her throat. “That might be a little specific for a law, given that very few people have that sort of ability, Eve,” she begins, slowly, carefully picking her words as she speaks.
“But more importantly, lobbying for a law for people who’ve been resurrected — that is going to frighten many people to the other side of the spectrum, rather than where you want them. It’s…” Tasha frowns, then starts again. “Consider everything we do for expressives as if it were a campaign, a politician’s platform. There are those who want things to be a little more liberal and those who want to be a little more conservative. Then there are those in the middle, who can be nudged a little either way, but with, as you say, baby steps.”
Tasha leans back, brows lifting. “Talking about laws for resurrected people is not a baby step.”
Her smile returns, and she gestures to Eve. “Now in your case, you could write it into your will. It takes months for probate to close even without complicated situations, so you don’t really need a year. The trouble is, think of the complications that could come with a law like that. What if someone pops up who has the ability to bring people back from the dead? We haven’t seen it, but we haven’t seen one like yours yet before either, as far as I know.”
Tasha’s nose wrinkles a little at the thought of it but she continues on. “Or what if we time travel to grab someone who died in ours, after their families have moved on, claiming that they’re resurrected?” She shakes her head. “ I can’t begin to imagine the ways it might get abuse, and that’s beside the fact it’ll terrify our moderates.”
Heh.
Eve looks sheepish and rubs the back of her head, "Well the problem with my brain is that baby steps are never baby steps, that's why I need help!" Snickering and then resting her raised hand on her knee the older woman fidgets and thinks on the information now churning in her brain. "Well technically we've seen some of this happen already deari-" Eve stops before she overloads Tasha's brain more than necessary.
"I see your point," It was one thing hearing it from people who didn't have legal expertise, but hearing all of this from Tasha sobers the former seer and hums softly for a few seconds. "I worry for us. Pure Earth and other nasty racists growing in power again. Mitchell reborn running for president. How can it be fair to slide backwards from progress, how do we allow that?" Eve frowns and grips her knee. "Why must we account for their fear? Why must we wait?"
"I just want things to be better, it seems like only laws being drawn in our favor can protect us." Though did the monsters that hated them even follow the rules? Why was Eve so set on appealing towards the cynic's nature even though she said she had no time to engage in their silly fears. "I've done horrible things to bring our people to freedom. I don't want to have to do that again. It's hard to know the right way when the right way seems like it'll take forever or, never truly come around." The admission is soft and Eve's frown deepens.
"Do you have kids?"
Tasha catches that rerouting of Eve’s first comment. “I know,” she says simply. She knows what they’re trying to avoid. She dreamt of that world, too.
“You want to change things, improve things, expressives, but this law is very specific to a very small number of expressives. I can’t think of any that would be resurrected after a full year — not even you fall into that category — without getting into some nightmare scenarios that I’d rather not. How long was it between your, um, death, and waking?” she asks. “What you’re proposing isn’t going to help many people, if any at all, and it does have the potential to do more harm than good, for your cause.”
Tasha stands, walking to the water cooler in the corner and pouring a glass of water for herself and Eve. She hands one to Eve before sitting down again and sipping from her own. “I agree with you that we need to make sure that things don’t slide back to how they were in the past, or progress to what we’ve seen of the future. But this law doesn’t address those things. What is it you really want?”
Eve is silent and closes her eyes. Thinking. Ruminating. Reflecting. "I want prosperity, peace between the species of humanity, I want it so if a man like Medina ever tries to gain office they are thrown out. I want the bigotry to stop being entertained. I want my people protected."
She stands and begins to pace around the room, "All of these things I've done for equal rights, though some equate you gaining your own footing in this world with supremacy. Bombing police stations while running with Pariah, raiding the Company, freeing countless prisoners and people experimented on by the science fairies of the world, war. All of the deaths. My own numerous deaths. All for it to be steered right back towards where we started." Eve's eyes open and blaze as she stares practically through the walls.
"Do you know how hard it is to push people in the necessary direction? The amount of possum that must be played, the dim witted seer who only knows as much as her visions show her. The wild woman with a gun who may just react in an unpredictable way. Pretending to agree with the toxic notions of "leaders" in order to push the needle a smidge much forward?" Her life's work really, the Ultimate Meddling which entailed meddling enough that the Expressives were in a firm, lasting and secure place in the world. Not just her own country.
"How do you think I can go about this? The attacks by Pure Earth are only ramping up, could this constitute a temporarily stalling of all registering of Expressives across the country? How are we to know this group who is only showing they've grown in power and plan to continue doing so hasn't co-opted our Registery already? Measures must be taken to protect the people and eliminate this threat." Eve is fairly certain she doesn't have to explain how she thinks they should go about doing that eliminating.
The petite Lazzaro listens, dark eyes so much like her father’s watching Eve as the woman paces. Tasha’s never been one to be quiet but she’s learned, finally, to listen as much as she speaks — something picked up from both parents over the years, as well as simply age.
“Progress changes, historically, are always incremental and always have their setbacks,” she says softly, but she gets up to go to her desk. She tips her head, then keys a few strokes into her computer, squinting a little at the results of whatever query she’s put in.
It only takes a few moments, but at the end of it, the hum of a printer nearby fills the air, and she steps over to it, high heels clicking on the hardwood floor. The page plucked from the printer, Tasha returns to Eve to hand it to her.
“I share your worries,” Tasha says, reaching out to put a hand on Eve’s forearm. “The people I love — I worry that their information will be used against them. It’s terrifying. But they opted to register because they want to work and they want to do good work for our country. You’re right, though — those lists might be used against them, in the wrong hands. Members of PE or HF could infiltrate the government and have the names and addresses of expressives at their disposal.”
Tasha gestures to the list. “These are the names and numbers of congresspeople and senators, both state and federal, that want less strict registration laws,” she says.
Presidential candidate Cedric Hesser is at the top of the list.
“Registration is ‘voluntary’ but in name only. If you want to use a power in a way that impacts other people or for an occupation, you have to register to live in the Safe Zone. That’s not really a choice,” Tasha continues. “The current registration as it stands can be argued to be discriminatory and dangerous. There are people who have been trying to change this already, but maybe the violence toward expressives this year will give it more momentum. Unfortunately, the anti-expressive sentiment is also on the rise after Detroit, so it’s probably a draw.”
The older woman places her own hand over Tasha's and stops, squeezing as she smiles. "Young Tam is lucky to have such an ally in her life." Eve was lucky to have Ghost and Warren but they weren't as… polished as the lawyer standing next to her.
A boon.
Eve marvels at the list of contacts and it takes all of her not to stoop to one knee and hold the list reverently above her head. "I will not abuse this, this.. //very nice gift!!" Eve hugs Tasha tight and closes her eyes before she can get too watery. She had calls to make.
But something Tasha says makes Eve stop and look down at the young woman. A draw.
That wouldn't do.
"…if the attacks against the Expressive escalate then will the ones opposing the relaxing of this registry be able to be pressured, by their colleagues?"
Tasha’s dark eyes widen when she finds herself in a tight hug, but after a moment, her arms come up and return it to the strange woman who’s mostly myth — and now somehow her client.
“It may not be easy, but they are people who are willing to talk about it, anyway. They’ll be the one to sponsor it, and usually they’re the ones to write it, but if they want some sort of draft first, I’d be happy to help look over anything you send over. Every politician’s a bit different. In the end, it’ll probably be their name on it, just so you know.” She smiles a little wryly at that.
As for the question posed to her, Tasha shakes her head slowly. “You would think that any time a person sees their fellow man being mistreated or persecuted just for being different, they would feel empathy for them, but it’s not always the case. Not everyone feels that.”
She lifts her shoulders, picking up her water to take a sip. “I think some people just need to connect one-on-one with someone — to put a face to the Other, to realize it’s not just an anonymous group of strangers who are different from they are. It’s a hard thing to do — and not something that can really be forced.”
"Oh no no /I don't need to be recognized, I just need my people safe." Eve presses a hand to her chest as if to indicate little ol me? She slowly folds the paper, fresh crease by new crease and slips it into her bra. Safekeeping. Whether or not the opposing side could be pressured into making things work more for the Expressives remained to be seen.
One-on-one, face to face. A face. Which face?
Never yours.
"That's not the point," Eve snarls over her shoulder as well nothing. Her station in the universe had already been decided.
Slowly Eve looks back over at Tasha, very much not addressing that tiny slip. "Sorry my outbursts are," Eve waves her hand and laughs but stops. "You listened to me. So did your father, when others would have continued to laugh. I will not forget that, ever. Thank you."
It would seem Eve is going to maybe use the front door. "You know, I've been arguing with immortals and boundless energies about how we on this earth deserve a chance to live, really live. Free of any of their influence."
We deserve to live. Her words that were said before the mocking gaze of The Entity.
"But all these silly rabbits want to do is tear each other apart! Ha! Maybe I should stop arguing in our favor. Maybe,"
It's already been decided.