Participants:
| Scene Title | Clay |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Agent Robyn Quinn receives a call from an anonymous source. |
| Date | April 6, 2018 |
Seedy, Noir Motel
Don't Sleep Here.
The room is dark, save for a lone candle lit on the desk in the cheap room. Someone's fiddling with a cellphone, the light of the thing mixed with the candle gives a weird glow on the pale skin of a heart shaped face. “Ahem,” a pale finger goes out to press play on a radio that's in the room next to the candle.
The sounds of a trumpet can be heard in the distance as well as a thunderous drumroll that vibrates on the walls. There's a deep knock on the wall too but it's ignored, it’s happened four times already. Pale fingers drum on the surface of the table in time with the drums before a marching band joins the tune, it's rather loud.
There's a clickclickclickclick as she scrolls through her contacts on the phone landing on the name RED followed by the emoji of an epic frown, the kind that's like oooohhh nooooooo. Because Red is often in that state when confronted with phone calls of this particular lady.
Making sure to press that fancy number trio that masks your phone number, the figure gums slightly to herself as she places the call.
Ringringringringringring
The first sound Eve hears after the click of the other line picking up is a long and weary sigh. "Hello?" Robyn Quinn speaks on the other end. She doesn't usually take calls from numbers she doesn't recognise, but with how things can be in the Safe Zone, it can be a bit of a necessity.
"This is Agent Quinn, how may I help you?"
“Ooooh hellooooooo!”
A high pitched voice rings out over the sound of a marching band, there's not a giggle yet. “Agent Quinnnn! My name is… Clay.” The trumpet is going for a solo in the background and the dark haired woman props her feet up on the desk, finger waving as an conductor would for an orchestra. “There's been some mega shit going down on the streets sista. I was told you were a reliable contact. Someone..” there's a pause, “A man can trust.”
“Tell me..”
Eve leans into the light of the candle still using that faux high pitched tone, eyebrows raised with a wide grin on her face as she speaks into the face, “What do you know about.. dust busters?”
Robyn leans away from her phone, looking at it at first with surprise, which immediate gives away to a form of mild disdain. "Clay." she says flatly. She hasn't quite picked up it's Eve again - though the trumpet should give it away, her thoughts are elsewhere. "I- dust busters? The vacuum cleaners?" Now she's just confused, which is pretty par for the course really. "I- N-no. I'm not."
She'll entertain this a moment longer, at least.
“Listen Agent, there's a matter of the highest importance on the table. Your superiors can't have been made abreast of the situation.”
There's a pause and “Clay” clicks “his” nails on the surface of the table at the same time that the marching band goes quiet, what a dramatic effect. “There's a smokey ass dragon on the loose and he's full of ash and I gotta VACUUM THIS MOTHER UP!!” There’s a bang on the table and Clay’s voice seems to be faltering a bit.
Robyn purses her lips. Yep, confirmed, she thinks she knows who she's dealing with. The faltering voice gave away something she was already sure about.
But she can play a long, a thin smile forming on her lips.
"Well… Clay… I believe if an, ahem, 'ass dragon' is smokey, you have other problems." She giggles a bit at her own choke, before taking a breath. "I need you to be more specific, E- er, Clay. Who?" Because the only "smokey" person she knows is Vincent Lazzaro, and well… despite jokes, she's not about to approach that at all.
“Smokey ass dragon Agent!! His body’s made of ash!”
Yes it's Eve but she's trying her hardest not to giggle herself. Even if this is a very pressing matter. “Uhm, this is an anonymous tip from a concerned citizen of the United States of A. Ass, what have you.” She waves a hand and there's a click of lighter and that's an even more dead giveaway. Listen here, it's been a stressful couple weeks. “Hamson Gray.”
A beat. “SAMSON GRAY. CODE RED! MAYDAY MAYDAY! PENNYWISE IS OUT OF THE GUTTER LADIES AND GENTLEMEN PEEKAFUCKINGBOO!” There's the sound of a deep pull of a joint. “He threw m- this lady down a well.”
On the other end of the line, Robyn's eyes narrow. Samson Gray. "Code Red," she notes, trying to smirk. "I get it." Whether or not that was an intentional joke, she's moving on pretty briskly. "Is the lady okay?" Her voice has actual concern in it now - hoping Eve isn't hurt too terribly bad.
"I'm not sure what I can do, E-Clay," playing along with this is a bit exhausting sometimes, "but I'll make sure the people who need to know know. Until then, if you see the, erm, Lady, let her know I'll be stopping in to see her soon."
She takes a deep breath. Samson Gray was not - and should not be - a name that sat well with her. "Code Red," she repeats, sounding a bit thoughtful as she pulls out a pen and begins to scribble down some notes.
“The lady..” “Clay” pauses and thinks, “The lady is in danger but she's always in danger. We always are. All of us, eventually. Full circle.” Eve speak mixing in with Clay’s way of speaking. “You just need to be on alert Agent, watch out for any signs of a smokey ass dragon.” There's a pause, “He wants someone that regenerates. The lady.. could not give up her friend. The lady almost died because she wouldn't.” Another pause as Eve puffs on the spliff.
There's a rather loud banging on the door of her room. Her neighbor in this seedy motel is angry. “Quiet down that marching band you crazy fucker!”
“Don't you call me crazy I'll show you crazy you two faced bottom feeding BURGER BOY!” Comes a hell from Eve cupping the receiver end of her phone with an annoyed expression on her face. Reassuming her faux Clay voice, “Er Sorry, pizza man didn't like that I didn't tip.”
“The lady would love to see you I hear, word on the street.”
"Uh huh." Robyn doesn't sound terribly convinced, but she's not ready to call Eve out yet. She knows the other woman would just deflect her and continue on unabated. "He's looking for a particular power…" And SESA has access to a whole list of people with powers. So yet, being on the lookout - and maybe spreading the word - sound like a good idea.
Robyn takes a deep breath, leaning back in her chair. Eve can hear the clinking of ice in a glass as Robyn mutter something unintelligible to herself. "The heads up is appreciated. I'll make sure the right people know as soon as I can. I think the Lady should stay safe. Keep her head down for a bit." Which she knows won't happen, Eve's never been particularly great at that part of things.
"The lady should stop by my place, the 13th or the 14th. In the Safe Zone." And please not in Rochester. She heard about the ruckus that happened last time.
“Careful of the smoke and ashes coming from asses my fri- Agent Quinn. You are very professional, just like me.” Eve is snickering now as she hears the advice. “The lady will lay low, she's hiding in plain sight which means not in sight at all.” She's excited at that logic.
“I'll come to the Love Shack anytime. Don't you worry!” She feels better after talking to Robyn and it shows from the warmth on her cheeks.
“Okay Red, good talk. Don't forget DUST BUSTER. I've got four. They were on sale, it's like they knew.” Eve cackles with no faux tone anymore and puffs more on her joint. There's a the sound of a cat yowling in the distance.
“Oh! And if you kiss Cherry don't feel bad at all. She's a sneaky gazelle that will knife you in the shin but you are the lion. You have no choice but to hunt. Bye Red!”
click
Eve cackles to herself.
When the phone hangs up, Robyn looks at it with wide eyes. "Every time," she remarks ruefully, shaking her head. "She's going to say that every time, isn't she?" At well. It's a nice thought, isn't it.
Isn't it?
But then she looks back at the phone incredulously, eyes narrowing.
"Wait. Love Shack?"