Participants:
| Scene Title | Deep Down In Electric Blue |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Geneva expects a normal psychic reading and gets, instead, one hell of an Eve-ning. |
| Date | December 4, 2018 |
Cat's Cradle: The Oracle Room
Down the stairs leads into a small hallway lit by dimmed down by blue christmas lights, at the end are two doors, a white painted one with a padlock and a black painted one. The black door has an old fashioned clock embedded into the wood. The gears seem to be spinning backwards.
Inside of the black door there is a room that is almost always filled with a smoky haze. The vents in the corners of the room help with the place not becoming too stuffy a couple large fans are positioned to help with the smoke if it becomes too much. Fabrics of various vibrant and muted colors and large comfy pillows fill the room, there is a work area in a corner filled with blank canvases and unfinished paintings. A few cabinets and bookcases are placed around the room. The room at large seems to hold a large number of completed paintings. Hanging on the wall or stacked against each other or in piles, the Three Mothers hangs over a fireplace tucked into the corner. There is an old beat up round table which an ornate glass bong sits in the center placed alongside a large black hookah. A deck of playing cards and a few candles are placed in the center.
Once upon a time, when New York wasn’t a bombed out hellhole, there would have been a million different entertainment venues where Geneva could sought refuge on a hazy, chilly Friday night such as this one. Nowadays of course, there is far less choice available — not that Gene particularly objects to this one, as she pushes the door to the dimly lit theatre open with an express purpose visible in the gesture and in her demeanor. Surprisingly, this purpose is not to obtain an alcoholic drink and then plop herself down into one of the seats far from the theatre, as it usually would be. Gene almost seems to be visibly sorry as she strides right past the bar and little grill.
Dull footfalls can be heard echoing as Gene traipses down the old stairwell, seeking out the proverbial seer in her lair. The drifter hadn’t seen Eve up above, so it figures that this is where she would be, if she is in the building at all. This is a part of Cat’s Cradle that Gene has never cared to set foot in before this moment, and she feels somewhat of a sense of unease as she brings her fist up to the outline of the black door— and knocks.
Silence answers Geneva's knocks as the backwards spinning clock passes the twelve o clock hand, it's not noon though but that clock will never run right, never spin right Eve had said in the past.
Almost a minute passes by and the faint drone of music, some nameless track that violins and electric synths ring out of seeps out from the Oracle Room and into the hallway. The door opens fast and there stands Eve, wild hair and a sheer dark purple dress. Smoke slowly slips out of the room and into the hall. Not as hazy as the Oracle Room usually is. Wine colored lips spread out into a smile as her doe brown eyes catch the face of one of the kiddies, err young adults she has had the privilege of seeing grow. "Well would you look at that. I was just thinking of heating some water up for tea," thick eyelashes flutter as she waves the young woman inside.
"Come come, you can help Aunt Eve with some ginger tea." Humming the older woman sways into the room, finding herself back in the plush, large pillow she was sitting on earlier. "You've been behaving I assume mmmm," a twinkle in her eye. Aunt Eve isn't known for her behaving.
“Hey, long time no see, Aunt Eve. Yeah, I’ve been behaving as much as I uh… usually do.” This is said with a small smirk on Geneva’s face- she’s the picture of sainthood!! Really!- as she steps inside and waves aside a handful of haze in front of her, sparing a long glance at the backwards-spinning clock. The Oracle Room is about what she expected it to be.
As the smoke clears in front of her face, it’s revealed that Geneva is wearing makeup similar in taste to Eve’s: plum lipstick, her usual heavy black eyeliner. In starks contrast to Eve’s beautiful-looking dress though, Gene is sporting a brown bomber jacket and tattered bell bottoms. An equally tattered messenger bag dangles from her side. “Yeah, be glad to help. Want me to make things easier?” Both hands were previously inside her pockets, but one of them slips out now and gives Eve a helpful, only slightly red-hot waggle of a wave.
"Mmmmm." Eve says with a close of her eyes, behaving as usual. That's not something she associates with the Lighthouse Kids. No no.
A keen eye sweeps over Geneva again taking in her clothes and that messenger bag, it reminds her of her own Bag of Tricks that lays near her feet ever present, the seer had use for all those weird ass Knick knacks and weapons.. and drugs inside. Reaching out to grasp the handle of a black tea kettle filled with water the older woman leans forward to offer it to the teen. "Yes yes this one my dear." In a singsong voice Eve wiggles her own free hand in response with a grin.
"What has the young girl come here for?" The kids dropped in but usually Eve knew better, there were always favors. Exchanges, stories to be had.
Geneva smiles a little as she sees Eve waggle her own hand in conjunction with hers. She hadn’t forgotten how idiosyncratic the older woman was. As prompted, the blonde lays her palm on the surface of the kettle, sloughing the messenger bag off her shoulder and onto the floor in the same movement. Within mere moments, the kettle has crescendoed to a satisfying rumble, and then there is a merry bubbling within as the water comes to a boil. Gene takes her hand off. Easy.
“I guess I was hoping you could do that thing you do. You know, read my future and all that. The girl takes a breath. “I usually don’t do this sort of shit— sorry, no offense— but at least with you, I know it’s for real.” The benefits of a SLC-E gene, separating the fake kooks from the real ones.
"Ahhh so sweet of you," nodding her head, she pours the kettle after it's warm into a cup, the raw, diced ginger smell not strong enough to overpower the scents of cannabis, hookah and god knows what else. "It's a blessing, having an active gift." Eve had been reminded of her own shortcomings with having what many deem a more passive gift.
There's a tilt of her head at the request, most of the kids from the Lighthouse were unsure of Eve's gift, weary. There's no offense taken by the look on the oracle's face. She's intrigued.
"Is there something specific you are looking for? Lost among the ever changing reality that we live in?"
It hadn’t occurred to Geneva before that the seer might not be in total control of her power, though she supposes this does fit the trope. She ponders this briefly as she flumps into the seat opposite Eve. “Yeah, it does New York nights without heat a lot more bearable.” she agrees with a genuine enough sounding chuckle.
“I was curious about getting a general reading, actually. Never gotten one done before. Thought it’d be fun. What do you see in store for me, in my future?” The blonde adjusts her sitting position so it is comfortable and leans forward, forearms on the table; from the look of things, she is genuinely quite interested in what Eve will have to say, even if she’s trying her best to act casual about it.
Eve sits there and looks straight at Geneva, a general reading. The older woman wishes so desperately for her ability to induce visions, her new.. gift wasn't exactly like that. Much like precise but she had success calling then forth though the blowback was large and sometimes crippling, throwing her shoulders back and squinting her eyes in the space around Geneva, "Ahh—"
A rush of water sounds behind Eve, a familiar sound that she's heard before. Waves.
Eve's eyes widen as they shift from that doe brown to a jet stone black. A hand raises to touch the surface of the table in front of her and the oracle looks down.
Water surges over her hands that shake with cold and the wet. Another hand lays itself over Eve's and grips hard, a paw with claws, pink underfoot with brown fur.
Eve screams and jumps up but her hands stay stuck to the table. "Let me go!!"
A scream pierces the hair and electricity flows around the animal's paw, Eve's arm is then latched in by another paw and another, they begin to pull her down into the murky waters. Electric blue eyes stare up at her from the depths. A shriek in the distance takes Eve's attention and there is a shadow of something galloping across the water's surface.
A ragged scream rises from the older woman's lips and she throws her head back to try to lose the images and the sounds, the sensations. "Electric blue, electric blueeeeee, follow the waters and find the electric blue. The furries one, they're in the deep. Deep down where no man should ever wal— AAAAA!!!!"
The animal making the shrieking noise, clicks and clicks as it gets closer and it's revealed from the shadows to be some sort of raptor. Red eyes glitter in Eve's direction and she lets out one last scream before the thing lunges at her neck.
Thrown back onto the pillow, her hands finally leaving the large circle table Eve's eyes remain black and wide, staring straight up at the ceiling. "SKREEEEEEEEEEEEE! SKREEEEEEEE!" Hands curled into a claw as she cries out.
What in the actual hell is even happening right now oh my god. Geneva has no clue what to do or how to respond when Eve begins to have what is, evidently, a fit; whatever weirdness she was expecting from the seer, this was not it. She pushes back her chair (which clatters backwards onto the floor) in a startled panic when Eve screams, and it is clear the drifter is completely unsure of what she should do to mitigate the situation.
It’s not like 911 is an option anymore. All she can do, really, is wait for the convulsions and visions(?) to hopefully pass on their own time.
When (or if) Eve comes to again, she will find the girl standing over her with her heavily-lined eyes wide as saucers. Thoughtfully, her teacup has been removed from the table so that it could not be hit and accidentally knocked over. That, at least, was something Gene could do.
“…Eve? Eve?”
Eve is silent as she feels back from the effects. Most of the Lighthouse Kids only knew that Eve had weirdness but rarely would they be subjected to her ability firsthand just the aftershocks, not today. Shocking in a large puff of air the pale woman's eyes slowly fade back to that doe brown and she breathes heavily as her gaze finds Geneva's above her. "Not.. to worry dearie." Waving her off back to her seat, Eve coughs and claps her hands on her chest, she felt like she had been drowning. Just like last time.
Reaching over to slap her hand down on the stereo in the corner, a guitar lick dripping in reverb echoes out and Eve snaps her fingers as she grabs onto the wall and slowly brings herself to a standing position. Swaying in place with eyes now closed.
Just like the white winged dove
Sings a song
Sounds like she's singin'
Whoo-whoo-whoo
Just like the white winged dove
Sings a song
Sounds like she's singin'
Whoo, baby, whoo
Said, whoo
"You," Pointing a long, pale finger in Geneva's direction as she moves her hips in a circle and twirls around the large black table in the middle of the room. "Nosing around the Deep Below, the darkness reigns. The water can kill you." Snapping her fingers and kicking a leg out to the lyrics and rasp of Stevie Nicks. "Mmmm mmmm."
"They eat flesh you know, down below. Bring your coat." A light cackle as she leaps to the side of the room, hair flying in the air as she lands with a satisfying, "Ah ha! I was thrown down a Well a while back, my leggy is finally worky! YEEHAW!" Oh yea, oh yeaaaaa. The headache coming on makes her wince and Eve twitches as she moves to the music.
"Oh and watch out for the raptors, they aren't always so nice."
"First ones free but I implore you my feisty darling, dance dance before your descent!"
…Uncertainly, Geneva reaches out in an uncomfortable attempt to help maneuver the older woman into a more settled sitting position. As the other Lighthouse kids had, she had known Aunty Eve was weird, but this, as it turns out, was like a little like describing a “hurricane” as “a bit of moisture.” This had been more like a schizophrenic fit than a psychic reading. Even as the teenager stares in unsettled disbelief, she does attempt to memorise some of the key bits of what had been said to her.
And then, Eve gets up and starts…. dancing?
“Uh. Hey, listen, Aunt Eve, maybe you should sit back down before you hurt yourself— here.” Technically the first one may be free, but it is clear that Gene had brought an item as tribute anyway: a chunky, cozy-looking fleece blanket, silvery and warm. Judging by the way she has to tug it out of her tattered messenger bag, it is a wonder that it had fit in there to begin with.
“I’m… just gonna leave that there, okay.” Gingerly, she points at the thick folded square she had left sitting on the corner of the table. In a smooth motion, she also pauses to refill Eve’s teacup before she turns to edge out of the room. (At least nobody could say that the drifter had been brought up without any manners.)
“Just— get some rest.”
"Mmmm a fancy blanket from a fancy friendddd." In a singsong voice Eve cackles and leans forward to pull the blanket into her hands and she looks ecstatic at the present, "Oh look at this Genie," wrapping the blanket around her like a shawl, she twirls around and throws her head back.
Just like the white winged dove
Sings a song
Sounds like she's singin'
Whoo-whoo-whoo
Just like the white winged dove
Sings a song
Sounds like she's singin'
Whoo, baby, whoo
Said, whoo
"Said whoooo whoooo whoooooooo. AND THE DAYS GO BY—" As Geneva makes her way out of the door Eve seems lost to the music but not in any danger. Dancing with a fevor she hasn't known since her college days the older woman whirls around the room a blur of long, dark hair and shimmering fabric. "Don't sink to far below Genie Dear!" Eve calls out as she snatched the half finished joint and raises it to her lips, puffing on the thing and being enveloped by smoke.
Eyes snap open as they watch Geneva's retreating back and she smiles a sly, quick smile and dips her head, "Farewell Genie!" Eyes back to that eerie jet black as she watches her leave, squinting at something over Geneva's shoulder.
"Farewell little one."