Compare And Contrast


abby_icon.gif gillian_icon.gifhelena_icon.gif

Scene Title Compare And Contrast
Synopsis Gillian and Helena talk about their sucky boyfriends.
Date January 25, 2009

New York Public Library

Finding someone in a library as large as the one that Phoenix called home for a while would be more difficult if it wasn't usually known where a certain person hangs out. There's an old filing system in the back, where the sorting cards for the pre-computer days could be found. Gillian spends most of her time there, going through the book records and making notes on ones that she wants to check out and make sure are still on the shelves somewhere. Instead of doing her usual sorting, though, she's actually sitting at a table with a strangely shaped glass and a bottle of some greenish liquid. There's a silver spoon-like thing sitting nearby, and a sugar pot as well. Drinking in the library is apparently okay to this librarian. Could be the circumstances.

It's been a harrowing week. And it's about to become more so. Helena promised Gillian a chance to talk, and so here she is. It did take her a few minutes to try and figure out where Gillian was, and the stacks were her first choice, followed by the storage of the old card catalog. Dewey would be so proud. As she turns a corner, she greets quietly, "Hey." then, "Absinthe. Huh. Never tried it."

"You're a little young, aren't you?" Gillian asks, not sounding slurred just yet. Then again, the bottle still has quite a bit in it. "Surprised you even know what it is." There's a bottle of water nearby too, but she doesn't move to prepare herself a glass as she looks over at her. "Pretty much saddled up to save the world or die trying, aren't we? Didn't expect to survive the last few times I signed up to 'save the world', but I didn't figure this time would be quite that… bad." She sits up a bit and starts to move things around. Maybe she will prepare a glass after all. "I apologized to the guy— but… sorry about the… thing. I would've sat further away from everyone if I knew he was going to drop something like that."

"I'm old enough to drive, old enough to vote, old enough to die for my country, and old enough to be all civilly disobedient." Helena says with patience. Then, "Edward's giving us the forecast for our best chance. Look at it this way, if we try, we may die. If we don't try, we will die." It's as simple as that. "Look. I'll keep my word. If we can save Sylar," her expression grows a little tight at the thought of saving the serial killer, "We will. I don't mean that as lip service. But if there's no other choice, if it's a choice between him or the city…" she leaves it hanging. "You understand? I'm not going to lie to you."

"When I made you make the promise, I didn't know he was possessed by the fucking bastard you're trying so hard to take down," Gillian says with a mutter, placing the sugar cube on the spoon-thing, and pouring the cold water over it. She watches it begin to settle into a foggy state before she looks back over at the young blond. "Guess you're one of the few people who knows what it's like— being in love with someone that the rest of the world has every right to hate." There's a pause, she removes the spoon and sets it aside, and then pushes the glass in her direction. "Taste won't kill you."

Helena blinks a moment. "You're in love with Sylar?" She sort of got the impression, on a level, but it hasn't really been put into words. Until now. She reaches for the glass, considers it, and downs it, making an awful face. Despite this, she adds, "I don't think anyone hates Peter more than he hates himself right now."

"No, I just think he's got really awesome eyebrows— yeah, I'm in love with him," Gillian says, eyebrows raising as the girl actually downs it. It seems to have taken her by surprise, but they're on different topics than how fast she drinks something. "I think more people would hate him if they knew what he did." She moves to prepare another drink now, one for herself most likely if the face was any indication. "Did you know? What he did before you went all gaa-gaa for him?"

Helena blinks rapidly. "Oh…oh shit." she says as absinthe takes its hold. She's never had it before, and she looks for someplace to sit down. She feels funny, like she could either start to cry or laugh hysterically, and switch either of them on and off like a faucet. She remains calm, for the moment once she can find a place to park her butt. "I didn't." she confesses. "But he told me one night, and it didn't change how I felt. He - he didn't do it on purpose, you know? It wasn't deliberate. But yeah, I know a lot of people have the right to hate him." She runs one of her cheeks absently. "Now he's sitting in a HomeSec facility rotting away because he thinks he deserves it."

"You'll be fine," Gillian says with a hint of a laugh, though it seems she understands what the poor woman might be going through. It makes talking about things a little easier, that's for sure. "He didn't mean to blow up the city and kill over a hundred thousand people— but he did mean to when he kidnapped me off the street, flew me to a rooftop, and questioned me about the whereabouts of a man I'd been staying with for a couple weeks." The water is poured over and she lets it sit for a bit as she adds, "I met all of you the same day. You and Peter in the apartment lobby at the butt crack of night— and then later that day, Gabriel stopped by to see if I had any sugar for his coffee." She shakes her head. "Peter's an idiot."

"Yeah, well. Sylar meant it when he threw me around like a ragdoll, near broke my wrist, and made me freeze against my will so he could slice open into my brain." Helena says wryly. "So we're about even, you think?" She shrugs. "I can't imagine you knew what Sylar was before you fell for him. You don't seem out of your mind."

"Guess we are," Gillian says with a hint of a smile. She's much slower in her drinking of the absinthe, taking her time with it instead of downing it all in one go. "I found out who he was on that rooftop— even then— I still think of him as Gabriel. And that Peter gave me the location of the Mendez loft. Said I could find out who I was with there. And I did. From the nicer of the two Peters, but— I found out." There's a pause and she downs a more generous gulp of the stuff before she looks back. "He was going to leave town with me, after the Peter situation got handled. Didn't end how anyone expected it would. Fuck, I figured I'd die, the three of them fighting each other. I betrayed him, shot him, got him sent to the future— And then one Peter got his head blown off, and the other one took every fucking thing that I said to him and turned it into a reason to let them lock him up. I really wish I would've kicked him."

Helena has put her fingers to press at her eyes as she listens to this litany of Peter's doings. She makes a faintly distressed noise, but can't help but murmur a faint, "Get in line." Peering at Gillian from over her fingers like she's playing peek-a-boo she confesses, "I wheeled and dealed with Parkman so I could visit Peter, just after the New Year. He didn't care. About anything anymore. And the thing was, it hurt so much worse then when I thought he might be dead." She shakes her head. "I don't know how I feel now." she says a bit dully.

There's a long pause. "I saw him after that," Gillian admits quietly, before she finishes off the rest of her prepared drink. She looks over at the boss of Phoenix and explains, "I ran into someone— touched them— and they saw something about his brother. Nathan. The one who lied to everyone, ran for President, and might become President on a technicality… Kinda used that as an excuse to try and see him. Course turns out he hates his brother and didn't give a rat's ass about it… But that wasn't even why I wanted to see him. I was mad at him. Because he promised me that if Gabriel tried to hurt me, he'd be there to help— and he wasn't. I did everything that he asked of me, and he wasn't there."

Helena blinks. "Saw something? When did you see him?" Her hands come away from her face. "How did you even know where he was? How did you get in?" Gillian's trauma, while normally something Helena would consider, is for the moment cast aside in her urgency to hear of this visitation.

"A little after I signed up with you guys," Gillian admits, keeping her eyes on the empty glass. "I had a friend, one I'd met a while back, he could teleport, like the person you have pegged to ferry us around on your big mission. Turns out he could teleport straight to someone rather than somewhere if I helped him. And before you ask about it, he's gone now— took off. Fucked up pretty bad when we went in there. Rash decisions and all that. He didn't want Homeland to pin him down, so he took off— probably half way to Mexico by now."

"And this vision?" Helena prompts wearily. "There's only three people I know of who have visions…well, maybe four. And two of those that I know of only have them when they're alseep and dreaming."

"The vision said that Nathan Petrelli would get shot. So hell, if he even becomes President, it might end up being the shortest presidency ever," Gillian says, beginning to ready herself another drink. "I guess I should tell you up front, even if I survive, I don't think I'll be sticking around when this is over. I'm with you until it's done, but after that you may not get a favorable response unless what you need me for has something personal in it for me."

"If I call on you, it'd probably because everyone's gonna need it." Helena says frankly. "Who had the vision? Peter's in jail, I doubt you went to see his mother, and the only other people I can think of is this crazy street girl who's name I don't know and…" her lips tighten. "Eve Mas. Who only gets visions when she's sleeping. If you touched her, would she have a waking dream?"

"I don't know, maybe it'd work that way," Gillian says with a shrug. "You've seen yourself how different abilities can be when I lose control and boost you. Same in theory, different in application. Though I never did see what my ability would do to Gabriel's painting. Maybe he wouldn't even need a canvas at all." She shrugs, going back to preparing a drink. There's a few things spread out on the table in the back areas of the library, where the paper records are stored. A bottle of a green liquid, a sugar holder with cubes, a silver spoon and a bottle of chilled water, all of which get used to prepare a drink that turns cloudy when water is poured over the sugar in the spoon.

Helena's eyes narrow. Her list of visionaries is very small, but she lets it go for now. She's seated and looks a bit too wide-eyed as she watches Gillian prep the absinthe. "Are you planning on staying in New York?"

"Possibly. It depends on what happens," Gillian says, taking a slow drink of the newly prepared mix of absinthe. She's not going to down it like the other woman tried to do, no way. Course she probably shouldn't be drinking much more. She's losing control over that little knot in the back of her head as it is… "I'm not planning to leave, but not planning anything else either. Last time I made plans, they got shot to hell." Almost literally.

Singing. Yup, that's singing coming into the library. Helena knows that voice. "long walks in the dark, through woods grown behind the park, I asked god who i'm supposed to be. The stars smiled down on me, god answered in silent reverie, I said a prayer and fell asleep. I had a dream, that I could fly from the highest tree I had a dream" The rest is humming which dies down when the healer makes her way, bearing one of the take out boxes that contains hot coffee from starbucks and a scooter helmet. That and a really expensive looking pink coat. "Evening!" Perky. Certain emotional manipulators might now might be praised. At least for the next little while.

Helena blinks and stares at Abby. She's so…happy! "Hey, Abby." she says, blinking a little bit. Knocking back the absinthe has left her sort of…placid. It's probably why she's not storming out to go to the Garden to interrogate Eve. She might even forget about it completely.

"Looks like she started drinking earlier than we did," Gillian says, glancing toward the other one on her team. "I should probably head home soon," she adds, looking at the bottle. "I'm starting to lose hold on it and last thing we need is for you to trip the library apart with a wind storm…"

Helena makes a huffy face. "I've got better control than that." she protests. "But do as you like. I'll see you when it's time to synchronize watches…is not before." The absinthe has made her feel all kinds of weird, and it's doubtful she wants more.

"Hey Hel. Gillian" She has a name to the face. "I brought coffee. I had a short shift and I'm telling Isabelle I can't come in for a few days. Also going to tell her to shut down the bar and go to like, vegas or something" In the comes, tripping the light fantastic. "Have a dinner for Teo's aunt tomorrow, your invited if you want." the green bottle of liquid is eyed. "Ohh, I haven't served that in the bar yet…" The coffee box is put down and Abby's hand is offered to Gillian. "Abigail Beauchamp. One of your partners. Nice to meet you"

The absinthe might be getting packed up a bit, shoved into a backpack that she can lug back to her apartment— but then a hand is being offered. "One of the people who I'm probably going to get killed with, I know. Nice to meet you," Gillian responds, glancing at the hand. Well, she's the healer, so what's the worse that can happen, right? Might as well see what happens… She reaches out and takes the woman's hand. That little knot in the back of her head isn't as tight as it should be, and more than a little energy will trinkle out. Not a flood, luckily.

"I'll think about it." Helena offers, not unkindly, but she seems to be in something of a funk, perhaps in reaction to the absinthe. It's made her moody.

No healgasm this time ladies and gentlemen. Quite the opposite. She wasn't expecting it, and as such, it's Gillian this time that's getting the healgasm. Quick, quick quick, the healing slice on Gillians forehead goes from healing to, gee that scar looks like it's been there a year or so. The overwhelming warmth and that oh so nice tingling tenfold as well when the blonde's hand tightens around gillians hand with a gasp. "Oh heavens, i'm sorry!" She looks to Gillian then to Helena with a guilty look on her face. "I didn't even.. fuck" the swear word flows from the southern blonde's mouth.

There's a mild closing of her eyes, breath shuddered out of her as Gillian feels the healing sweep over her. It's the last thing she wanted, honestly, but it feels too good to try and stop it. Only when she pulls back, does she snap out of it, reaching up to touch her forehead, where the warmth was the most intense. She can still feel the scar from the telekinetic slicing of her forehead. But it no longer hurts at all, it doesn't seem to be near as puffy. It's finally completely healed— no more needing to check on it in the mirror. But the deep scar remains intact, marring her skin. "I know it could happen and I still shook your hand. It's fine," she says, reaching into her bag to find a makeup mirror and check it visually. "No harm done. I know if I get beat up in the next couple of nights that all I have to do is grab onto you, at least."

"So long as you keep her supply of Red Bull coming." Helena notes placidly. And randomly remarks, "My knees feel rubbery. I only had one drink. What's that about?"

"Redull rule doens't kick in with Phoenix till after I kill Kazimir" She says it so calmly, and with a smile. "It's still there, the scar. Too fast and I can't control it to get rid of scars. Do you want it gone though.?" Seems she can do that. Abby turns her head, sizing up Helena. "If you can't come for dinner, come help me make it? Or i'm going to be in the kitchen all day and I have things I have to do in the morning, tie up some loose ends and tell some friends to get off the island just in case" Either, that's alot of faith in god that's happening, she's accepting of immenant death, or there's something not legal coursing through Abigails veins.

"You drank it a little too fast," Gillian says, packing away the bottle. "That, and you're not used to it. It's got…a little more kick than your average drink," she explains, zipping up the bag and looking at the healer. "No, I— I'll keep it. There's someone I want to see it sometime."

"Teo's aunt? The one Alex is fucking?" Helena asks, her mouth apparently gone into self-edit. "I want to meet this paragon of beauty, actually. Sure, I'll help." She lifts a hand to waggle fingers at Gillian. "Sorry. Conrad would always make me knock my drinks back."

'She's very beautiful" Gillian's brow is eye'd though. "I had that same thing. He cuts so deep" Abby shakes her head. "Nice to see someone else who escaped him mid slice. So i'm late then? Gillian is going home and your… we should get you some gatorade Helena, and some aspirin. Al gave those to me friday night. I'm sure we can dig up some or go out and find some, I got the scooter with me"

"I didn't escape," Gillian says plainly, leaving her bag zipped up, but not heading directly out, either. "He let me go. That's one thing your reports don't mention. There's something else behind his attacks on people with abilities— something besides him being a murderer. He could have finished it, and he didn't. No one saved me, no one stopped him. No one showed up and helped. He stopped himself." There's a pause. "It's too bad I haven't met this Conrad guy, yet. If he's encouraging you to slam drinks back, I probably want to get to know him someday."

Helena lets out a little laugh. "I'm sure eventually you will." Her expression turns thoughtful. "I'll give you one concession. He hesitated, before he actually started to slice me open. It was the hesitation that saved me, I managed to use my ability to make him let me go so I could run away. But he had me." She shrugs.

Abby nods to Gillians words. "Claude. With a brick. And then.. Mr. Baxter of SCOUT. And.. I saw him three times after, but he walked away all three. More important things and a promise that he'd leave me alone for a few weeks. Then he could come for my faith, painless and quiet" Abby eyes the lot of them. "Sylar Surviver society. it's still survive, whether he let us go, or someone else made him let us go" But, that's enough of that on Abby's behalf. 'Conrad's.. interesting. i'll say that. Asshole, but an honest asshole" With that, Abby takes a deep breath "we can walk you out Gillian then i'll take Helena, go find some gatorade and advil. You can come crash at the apartment Hel. We can buy mama mia on the way over" Tempting the blonde. "Drive Al crazy"

"Sylar Survivors…" Gillian repeats softly, with a hint of a headshake after that. "If he tries to kill you after we rescue his possessed ass, I'll shoot him again," is what she says at the end, pulling the bag over her shoulder and starting to leave. "Enjoy the torture." Cause that's what musicals are.

Helena pushes herself to her feet. "We can walk you out." she says, and protests mildly. "I like ABBA." Let's just call it a character flaw, okay? She eyes Abby. "I wouldn't mind crashing at your place. Will Alex and Teo be home?"

'No, they won't be home. Al may or may not, Teo won't. he moved out like beginning of the week. You can meet Pila and Scarlet and Abba… Abba is fun" Abby states. 'it's not for everyone. Get your jacket Hel" not a comment about whether Sylar will succeed or not.

"Might as well," Gillian says, grabbing her own coat, which happens to be a man's coat instead of something a girl would wear. In fact, it looks like something that Sylar would've worn. Cause it is something he owned. She shifts the bag around so that she can put it on.

And of course, Helena has Peter's jacket, so she and Gillian can continue in their inevitable yin/yang dynamic. She's a bit slow on the uptake right now from the absinthe, but she'll make it out with the other two, and takes a moment to watch Gillian disappear into the night.

January 25th: Far To Fall
January 25th: Twenty Questions
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