Participants:
| Scene Title | Check-up and Pie |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Sonny meets with Dantes, formerly Felix, whom he made over with his Evolved power. The doc encourages the cop to have some fun with his situation. Dantes doesn't seem enthused. Mallory makes an appearance towards the beginning. |
| Date | December 9, 2008 |
It's been a day since Sonny Bianco rearranged Felix and made him into Edward Dantes. With a procedure that dramatic, the doctor wants to be sure that there haven't been any side effects. So he's sitting at a booth, waiting for the be-disguised FBI officer to arrive and have pie. His shoes look too expensive for this place, though the rest of his clothing, consisting of jeans and a collared shirt, don't stick out too much.
Mallory pushes the door to the diner open, scowling at the contents of her cell phone. Or something on the screen, anyway. She swipes a hand under her nose with a faint snuffle and promptly bumps into a table, barking her shin on one of the chairs. "Fuck. Ow."
It's perturbing and rather sad. Fel was a regular here. The staff knows him. Knew him. The faces are still familiar, but now his own is not, so there's nothing but the usual politeness to a diner, none of the old jokes, none of the knowledge of his preferences. He's in a dark gray sweater, dark overcoat, and jeans, as well as battered combat boots. He looks rather glum, and his tread is a little unsteady, as if his perceptions were just a hair off. He heads for where Sonny's sitting, and drops into the seat across from him.
Sonny looks a bit worried as the man formerly known as Felix heads his way. He sets the menu down and folds his hands together on top of it, then leans in towards him. "Are you all right? Have you been experiencing any…strange sensations?" What, aside from a heart attack every time he looks in the mirror?
Mallory leans down to rub her shin, which causes another entering customer to bump into her. "Oh, for fuck's sake," Mallory protests, irritated at life.
"I beg your pardon, miss," Dantes says politely, voice low and rough, ashe steps around Mallory, rather gingerly. "I….it's entirely psychological, doc," rasps 'Ed', smiling a little wryly. "Don't get your professional feathers ruffled, you did a bang up job. My arm is healing beautifully."
"Don't underestimate the psychological. You can easily make yourself feel like crap if you let your mind get the better of you. Just…think of it as a long-term Halloween costume?" Sonny quirks a brow. Then he makes a bit of a face at a menu. He's a champagne and caviar kind of guy. Salisbury steak? What about actual steak? He gives up on the food itself and flips to the dessert section. Then he glances around, checking briefly for familiar faces.
Mallory scowls darkly at 'Dantes', straightening up and rubbing her shin. She slides into a booth not so terribly nearby; their conversation is safe, as long as it's quiet, but she's fairly close.
Dantes 's lips quirk at that. IT's weird to see those expressions on a different face - he does keep catching his reflection in something out of the corner of his eye and startling. "I've worked undercover before," he notes, with a touch of pride. "When I was NYPD I did a whole year with the Russian mob,"
"Well, think of it the same way," Sonny lifts a shoulder. "I…know how disconcerting it can be. And I have the ability to get out of it the moment I want to. Knowing you can't, because it wouldn't be safe?" he shakes his head. "But you haven't had any loss of sensation?" He keeps his voice low.
Dantes shakes his head. "No, it's perfect," he says, quietly. "And all the more disconcerting, because it all feels so natural."
Sonny looks at Dantes rather critically. It might seem like he's just giving the other man a stern or knowing look from another perspective, but from Ed's? He should be able to tell that he's observing the muscles in the other man's face, to confirm that the reactions are all correct. "You'd prefer it felt like a mask?" he murmurs.
Dantes shakes his head, eyes widening. It's all perfectly natural, no sign of anything odd. "Not at all."
"Well, I have to say I'm relieved. The list of people I've done this to is…very short. Changing myself doesn't count. It's always easier." Sonny pulls a straw out of a nearby holder and starts to play with it. He shreds the paper around it. "So. Is it classified to ask what you're going to do now?"
A waitress gets around to Mallory; Mal checks her pockets before ordering a Doctor Pepper and a hamburger. The cellphone is still getting a dirty look, though she puts it down and rubs her head. Headache?
Dantes spreads his hands, with one of those feline half-smiles. "No. Because I'm not sure. Who I can be….well, that's up to our spook friends, y'know?" He leans back in the booth, greeting the waitress with absentminded affection, which earns him a leery look.
Sonny's brows go up and he glances to the waitress. "I'll, uh, have a piece of uh…bumbleberry pie?" He tugs the mug over and flips it. The waitress fills the mug with coffee. He'll wait until she's out of earshot to continue the conversation, though the affectionate greeting does draw his attention.
"The pie's excellent. Bordering on amazing," Ed assures Sonny, face settling into its usual expression of watchful gravity. You can chance the physical structure….but not so much the mannerisms.
Sonny looks to the waitress, then back to Ed. "It…might be a good idea to not go to familiar places for awhile. Else people might start getting suspicious." Then his tone turns wry. "…and you'd have to get used to a whole other face."
Mallory's soda arrives, and then her burger. She stops kneading her temples with her fingertips and picks up the burger with a vague grunt at the waitress. Because she's just that friendly.
Dantes looks down at the table, rather forlorn. "I know," he says, very low. "It's….you're right," There's nothing else that can be done. "It's like being a ghost."
Sonny rests his elbow on the table, then leans his chin on it. It's almost a childish posture. "It would feel less like it if you visited new places. Look," he lets his hand drop. "Do your people have a psychologist you can talk to? I'd refer you, but I doubt any of them have the clearance." A beat, "If this starts really getting to you, I can prescribe you some antidepressants." He may be a good doctor and have a good bedside manner, but he's still not fully equipped to console someone who isn't themselves anymore. "You seemed almost…eager for the procedure at first."
Dantes notes, very quietly, "I was. I wanted to have the ….the people pursuing me off my tail. I didn't give much thought to what was beyond that. And I'm already on lithium. That was previous though. A chronic condition," he says, toying with his fork.
"Understandable." Sonny bobs his head. He looks up and murmurs a polite thank you to the waitress when she brings his pie. That's the good part about a place like this. People are a lot less likely to recognize him. "Well, look. If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know, all right?" A beat, and a quirk of his lips. "I could set you up with someone?"
"A doctor? I mean, a shrink? There's one you trust to that extent?" Ed quirks a dark brow at that, looking a little skeptical.
"No. A date. It might help you get your mind off things?" Sonny sticks his fork into a pie and pops the bite into his mouth. He chews thoughtfully. "That is good." His black coffee is sipped.
Ed frankly stares at Sonny for a long moment. And then snickers, though more at himself than his dinner companion. "I….don't know about that. You're not offering yourself, I take it?"
Sonny laughs. "Come on, man. I know lots of nice girls. Ones that have barely had any surgery, even. Take this as an opportunity. You can be a real bastard. You can be a cassanova. You're not going to be that guy forever." He takes another mouthful of pie.
Now Ed's laughing aloud. "How heartless of you," he says. "But you do make it sound tempting."
Mallory has been quietly eating her burger; she gets the bill, pulls some cash out of her pockets, and finishes off her drink before heading back out. She seems to have forgotten her cell phone.
"Think of it as…a get out of jail free kind of card. You can do what very few people ever get a chance to. You can pretend to be someone else. Not because you have to, not for your work. See what it's like to be a different kind of person for awhile." Sonny motions with his hand. "Hell, you could make up your job, your past. You could try and be charming or you could be a real asshole."
"I am an asshole. I don't know that I could manage charming," Ed says, drily, as he's poured more coffee.
"Really? I've met assholes before. Maybe I just met you under the wrong circumstances." Sonny sounds amused. "Or maybe doctors and politicians are the only people who can truly be assholes. God complexes." There's almost a spark of mischief in his eyes.
Mallory gets to the door before blinking, looking annoyed, and turning back to trot back to her table and pick up the cell phone she left there. And then she's out!
Dantes snorts. "Cops are plenty capable of being assholes, I promise," he notes, drily.
"Again, god complex." Sonny points with the fork. "But really," he takes another bite and chews. "You don't seem like an asshole to me."
"You don't know me very well. I can be a horrendous bitch," Dantes says, calmly, as he's brought his pie. "I owe you, though, so i tend to be on better behavior."
"Don't be on your best behavior on my account. If I can deal with bitchy socialites who want precise nose-jobs and who think the world owes them everything, I can stand one grumpy cop who has every right to be grumpy. Or snarky." Sonny shrugs and attacks his pie again.
Dantes smirks, one of those thin-lipped, guarded smiles. "Good. That's kind of you. But there's no reason to impose on your good will further than I have."
Sonny bobs his head side to side and points with his fork. "Look. If it helps to talk to someone now and again who knows what you've gone through, I don't mind. Even if I don't know the whole story. I know enough to help keep you sane if you start forgetting who you are. But I mean it when I say you should try to have fun with this. Else you're going to go crazy."
The smirk fades at that, and he toys lazily with the pie. Not as enthused as he might be, considering. "I imagine you're right," he allows, inhaling slowly. "Fun. Not a lot of fun here of late."
Sonny tries to catch 'Ed's eye to give him an earnest look. "Think of it as…a vacation in another person's skin. The waitress here might not know how you like your coffee, but you also don't have any responsibilities. I'm sure your people are going to make sure you're comfortable. So why not live it up a little?"
Dantes gives him a bemused glance in return. "You -really- don't know me," he says, with a rough little laugh. "I'm legendarily uptight. I honestly don't know what to do with myself."
"You -were- legendarily uptight," Sonny points out. "Now you can be whatever you want to be. Maybe you could be legendarily…oh, I don't know." He waves a hand. "Look. Just give it a try. What could it hurt? I'm having a Christmas party. Come. Mingle with impossibly pretty people. Eat some fancy canapes."
"Now that I'm one of those impossibly pretty people?" Ed returns, touching his cheekbone with a hand, and eyeing his reflection sidelong in the mirror. "A party, huh? I can try."
"Hey. All I did was rearrange a few facial muscles. I didn't really change much under the surface." Sonny finishes off the last of the pie. "It's next week. I always say not to dress up, but you can't tell the kind of people who come to my parties to -not- dress up."
Dantes drawls, as he finally starts work on that pie in earnest, "I have a decent tailor. Or did," he says, musingly. The idea has taken root, though, clearly.
"Good then," Sonny reaches into his pocket for one of his business cards and jots down the address, date and time. This is pushed towards Ed. "If you think up a few lies before the party, I'd be happy to help sread them around."
"Since one is best doing what one knows….I'm a cop," Ed says, making a face. "NYPD."
"A cop? That's not very glamorous," says Sonny with a chuckle. "Come on now. Use your imagination!"
Dantes levels his fork at Sonny. "I have to live within my means, which are still modest," he points out. "No life of indolence and glamour for me."
"Yes, but that's the thing about a lie at a party. You don't have to have the means to back it up." Sonny lifts a shoulder. "But if you want to be a cop, I'll say you're a cop."
Dantes grins. "The more consistent I can make my story, the better," he says, bluntly.
"Well, suit yourself. I'll see you there either way, right?" Sonny stands and drops far more money than is needed to pay for even both of their pies. "I've got to go. Take care of yourself. And call me if anything feels strange." With that, the doctor's off, towards where he parked his Mercedes.
 December 8th: A New Warden |
 December 8th: Cognitive Dissonance |