Dreamers Round


dumortier_icon.gif elisabeth_icon.gif emily_icon.gif eve6_icon.gif finch_icon.gif

isis_icon.gif kara_icon.gif kaylee3_icon.gif nathalie2_icon.gif ff_silas_icon.gif yi-min_icon.gif



Scene Title Dreamers Round
Synopsis Work together or die.
Date January 2, 2020

Cat's Cradle

There's barely any light on in the main room of Cat's Cradle. One patron, Larry, naps in the corner on one of the refurbished theater rows. Snoring lightly.

There's some soft music playing, instrumental. Dark, the many candles on the various mismatched tables aren't even lit. Though Poppy goes from each table lighting them all with a long lighter. The flames reflect in her hazel eyes.

Eve had immediately put out the word: Come to Cat's if you feel you've experienced the dream. Anyone who had would know. She tried to send as many of the hungover patrons that she could, out to spread the news. Hopefully it works. She had seen a few familiar faces there.
Dressed in a deep red dress that almost matches the hue of her eyes or the lighting streaks that pop off of her. She doesn't know what to do. Really. The things she set in motion yesterday….

The pale woman seems tense. Nevertheless she sits there waiting, on the stage of the room. No mic hot and ready, she's just. Here.

Unite you said.

But not us.

Ticktock. Threethreethree. You were never a seer.

I know.

Silas lurks at a corner table, his back to the wall and his eyes on the door. Not that that's any kind of guarantee — these days, what is — but it's as good a seat as any and better than some. Being here is a risk for him, and he knows it… but saving his own life isn't gonna amount to much if the horrors he'd seen in that dream had come to pass. So he sits, and he waits, and he watches, and he occasionally even looks at the bourbon he's got in front of him.

Eve Mas had done a better job at putting out the word than she might even have realized. Word of the summons had managed to seep out well beyond the confines of the Safe Zone, stretching one of its many beguiling fingertips all the way out into the distant countryside around Providence. Dr. Yi-Min Yeh, normally not the type of character to put any stock into dreams or omens, had been immensely interested when the strains of this news had reached her ears.

Kara Prince is well-aware that this particular subject had become nearly an obsession for Yi-Min in the past few days. Thus, she would not have been surprised when a joint excursion out to the Safe Zone with fellow-dreamer Rene in tow had become a matter of insistence. No possible arguments to the contrary had been accepted, even when Kara herself had become suspiciously tight-lipped at the mention of the name of Cat's Cradle. Odd, but Yi-Min has other things on her mind.

The ride to the city itself had been uneventful, if long and silently rigid from Kara's point of view and largely preoccupied from Yi-Min's, punctuated only by the occasional (and somewhat questionably successful) attempt by Rene to interpose banter from his position in the backseat.

Of the arrival of this strange trio, Yi-Min is first through the door of Cat's Cradle, dressed in a long slender overcoat warding against the chill of the winter afternoon. It is her first time here, so she pauses after leaving a generous space near the entryway for others to come in, eyes calmly searching out everything present in the environment before her.

Oh look, there's the bar. What a pleasant place to start.

Kara Prince trails in Yi-Min Yeh's wake, not dressed unlike how she was when she first entered Cat's Cradle almost a month ago. She wears nothing to guard her face and head from the chill, a dark hooded jacket worn underneath a more weatherproof thermal coat otherwise keeping her warm. This place not being unfamiliar to her is a secret she holds for just a moment longer, sweeping the room for faces she recognizes as much as those that are new. The man sitting in the most defensive seat in the house qualifies as such, her gaze alighting on him for a pause and a blink before she moves on.

She means to say something to her partner or to Rene, but that’s when she sees Eve on the stage. Standing still, in a way she so often was not.

“She’s seen it, too,” is what Kara murmurs instead, a thread of curiosity in her voice for how peculiar she finds this. They all had the same dream? It was less of a shock now than when Rene shared he’d seen the same thing Yi-Min had, but no less disturbing. She begins to frown, her hand lifting to find the small of Yi-Min’s back as she walks beside her, doing nothing to hide her familiar face or gait from any of the Cradle’s staff as they come up to the bar.

As much as he may have been a voice breaking quiet on the drive up, Dumortier is more quiet the nearer they get to their destination. His coat is leather, lined with fleece, gloves the same and a woven scarf around his neck. The wind probably does go right through him, given his frame. That cornsilk hair is tucked under scarf, lending him a huddled aura following Kara inside.

"Who?" He almost bumps into Kara as he picks up his pace to hide from winter. "Mn. I suppose there are even more than we thought…" Rene falls into stride, though Kara will probably get the sense he wants to hide behind them a touch longer.


We don't know it.

Hello Kitty.


As Yi-Min and the others arrive, Poppy breezes by Silas with a wink and goes in to hug Kara, "Kara! We thought we'd never see you again after you snuck off!" Wagging her finger in the other blonde's face before turning a bright grin over to the others. "Poppy, nice to meet ya." Brown eyes flick over to where Eve is standing. "She's been like that since last night. Well, the other night too. I've been hearing about… some sort of shared dream?" Poppy hadn't been privy to it obviously, but she believed Eve.

The pale woman looks up as the door opens and more people pour in. "Ah, Lady. I didn't see you in the dream," There is a brief twinkle to her eye and even though she doesn't know that Kara is keeping this place a secret. Or was. Her eyes brighten in a way as if to say: Our little secret. That's past gone now though with the arrival of Poppy.

"You've brought friends,"

Eve smiles and waves her hand before it drops down to her side. Lightning crackles at her fingertips and she looks down, frowning now.

How did I survive?

You were never a seer.

No, never.

"Did you have it, the dream?" That word sounds so ominous the way she puts it.

Just outside Cat's Cradle, Emily Epstein walks side-by-side with Eloise Finch, a stern countenance about her. "Listen, Finch," she tells her, "I know you think this is important, but this is something that Eve Mas put together, and if you've ever believed anything I've ever told you, then you need to hear me when I tell you she is batshit fucking crazy. Okay?" Her forward movement pauses for just a moment so she can level a severe look her friend's direction. "So, like, just take anything she says with a grain of salt, because she sometimes sounds like she's got it together, but really—"

Suddenly it's Emily who's not got it together, though, startled out of her skin as a bird swoops from behind her, its claws catching on the bicep of her peacoat. It has a grace she decidedly lacks, letting out a note of alarm as she turns. It's with wide eyes she regards the raven that's decided to make her its perch. "Son of a bitch, you scared the shit out of me," the young woman tells the bird directly, and sourly.

The white raven lets out a decidedly unimpressed chuff of a caw, and adjusts to settle on her forearm with dignity when she lifts it to make a better perch. Emily frowns at nothing at all, retreating into herself for an unmoving moment before she snaps back to the present, looking up to Finch.

"Ah," she starts, looking down the bird then back up to the other girl. The only explanation that comes is a lack of one, spoken in the form of a brusque: "Right."

"Let's head in, then." Emily suggests, pulling the door open with her free hand and nodding for Finch to enter first.

Finch sticks out like a sore thumb next to Emily, lithe frame in bright yellow puffer jacket, big eyes like saucers as she listens to her friend only to be watching a bird land on her? Without explanation?

Finch, frozen in confusion and shoulders up near her ears, almost misses the cue to head in. Truly, this city is the strangest.

"Language," she only just manages, as though the thought arrives a little late through the haze of shock and already having been on edge to begin with. This is not her scene, and her prominent eyebrows slanting as desperately upward as they can confirms it. But she slips in through the door anyway, lingering near the entrance to hold it open for Emily and anyone who might be next.

The sight of Lashirah Lee is likely not that common around these parts anymore. Still, it's as close to a place as she has to call home, this old wrecked city, and she's back in town after nightmare and terror. Thus she finds herself walking in her jacket and boots, and wandering… wandering her way right into the area outfront of the Cradle.

Call it a whim. Call it fate. EIther way, Lashirah steps inside, to get out of the chill January air.

Nathalie does not want to be here.

Even less so when she sees a white raven clinging to her sister. She lingers outside the doorway, a hand gripping the handle like she might be debating slipping away and going anywhere else. Her gaze travels over the number of people gathered, though, and her frown deepens. She doesn't remember them all, only a select few, but they're all here.

She takes in a deep breath and steps inside the bar. Her hand rubs at her face like she's already been through this a dozen times and can't stand to go over it again. She lingers behind the others. Nearest to the exit.

"It wasn't just a dream," Yi-Min reiterates to Kara in a plain, affirmative murmur when her partner speaks of the shared nature of the experience. She is not sure what the correct term would be to replace it: only that dream isn't enough.

Any further thoughts she has on the matter find themselves arrested by the unexpectedly strong greeting that Kara receives upon their arrival at the bar. Yi-Min stands back apace and eyes the proceedings with a mild if rapidly burgeoning interest. "Kara, you didn't tell me you're a regular here?" she states quite curiously in the space between all of them, attention lingering for several long, sharp seconds on the spectacle of what appears to be lightning sparkling down Eve's fingers. Poppy gets a lookover as well, if a more swift one by comparison.

Even with these quaint developments, Yi-Min is paying careful attention to the others that follow her through that doorway. Whoever is in that blazing yellow attire sticks out at once— and then her keen, calm-eyed gaze travels upwards from the yellow puffer jacket, coming to rest finally on the shape of Finch's face.

Well, hello. If it isn’t the melted girl.

Elisabeth Harrison hadn't been sure she'd come to this. It's… complicated. She isn't on time, hanging back as she watches from half a block down as people enter the bar. She remembers the last time this many people shared a dream, and it's never a good thing. Finally she makes her way to the door of the Cat's Cradle, shooting a glance at the lanky man accompanying her. He's under orders to stay outside — it's bad enough a cop is about to walk in there. She doesn't want to get jumped even quicker.

She literally sidles in the door just behind Nathalie. Which… is a little awkward, maybe. She manages not to bump right into her, and Liz offers a sideways half-smile. "Fancy meeting you here," she murmurs. She too pulls up a patch of wall there by the door to observe and listen, wary of getting into the middle of a crowd like this. But someone needs to hear what Eve's going to say! And the number of familiar faces is a little surprising. She hadn't been able to see this many people that night.

Kara has to admit, she didn't think it would be Poppy that would be the one laying hands on her first. Stiff as a board, a brief off-handed touch to Poppy's back is the only return of the hug, her eyes otherwise shooting back in Eve's direction. When the lightning woman addresses her openly, Kara lifts her chin to acknowledge her when Eve gets distracted by her very being.

"Sounds like it wasn't just a dream," Kara echoes what Yi-Min had said, looking back to the woman by her side. If she were going to give a clear, immediate explanation for the staff's familiarity with her, it's cut off as she follows where Yi-Min's gaze goes, noting the shift in her expression.

Following where she looks, Kara pauses and stares as well, but not at the girl with the jacket. It's the one beside her, the one with the rather unique bird on her arm. It's just for a moment, then she moves on back to Eve. Dumortier recognizes the subtle shift in Kara's posture due to his closeness to her, as well as his familiarity with her. It's not the first time he's been in her presence when the flip switches from merely being present and alert over to being engaged and actively aware.

She keeps the young woman with the bird as much as Yi-Min in the corner of her eye as she steps away from the bar and them both, getting closer to the stage in the rapidly-filling space. "You were right," Kara tells Eve once she gets closer, in quieter tones that don't carry as much. "About the fear. Had to go and face it one way or another." It might not be relevant to what's brought them together now, but her brow arches as she expresses: "Thank you."

All of it is a little much, all at once. Rene warms up in reflective silence near Yi-Min, that is until Kara is boldly approached and even embraced. His brows go up and his eyes flick to the woman beside him, a side-eye. He is even quiet during this, eavesdropping in plain sight and taking in some of the others dotting the Cradle. There is a distinctly familiar face - - Silas' - - stuffed in a corner, to which his features sharpen up and he looks to Kara's shift in demeanor instead. Don't think about it.

"This is fucking insane." Rene mumbles from Yi-Min's side, arms crossing and eyes following the look towards eye-catching yellows. "Well, shit. That's her, right…? And all of them." Dumortier had tried to hide himself behind his dark-haired friend here during the dream, but now he seems less unsure of himself as passively known faces filter in. He pulls his scarf loose and shakes out his hair, a distinctive quality. Maybe they'll remember him, too.

Silas finds himself a little surprised, honestly, at just how many people have turned up here; honestly, the sheer number of people pouring in makes him a bit nervous.

Of course, when Poppy breezes by and tips him a wink, Silas can't help but smile despite himself; his face probably isn't as familiar to her as hers is to him, but it's a faint comfort nevertheless.

And then… there's a familiar face.

Mister Sunshine.

Silas's eyes narrow for a moment, his gaze hovering on the blond man as he considers — first the man himself, then the company he keeps. He doesn't recognize these two at all, though Poppy seems to know one of them; maybe he'll ask her about them, later. He watches placidly as Mr. Sunshine looks over, spots him, scrutinizes him… and then shifts focus to something else. Takes off his scarf, even. Doesn't leave.

Interesting, that. Definitely a change from the last time they'd met, isn't it? Then again… things have changed for Silas, too.

But it's the dream or vision or whatever the hell it is that's the important thing. Maybe Mr. Sunshine feels the same way, since he's still here. Maybe they'll get a chance to have a talk before all is said and done… or maybe they won't.

More familiar faces trickle in as he watches. Including… yep. That's Elisabeth over there. Silas's lips curl up a bit in a hint of a smile. Always good to see a friend; someone else he'll have to drop by and say hello to.

So get to socializing, he chides himself. He lays his coat over the back of his seat, takes a sip of his bourbon, and slips into the crowd, making his way towards the door to say hi to Lis; en route, he spots yet another familiar face, this one a bit closer… though the raven on her shoulder is something he hasn't seen before.

If it'd been only that, he might have ignored her… but she's accompanied by someone else he recognizes, though this time only from the dream — the girl who'd literally melted at the end. That recollection is almost enough to make him cringe; it'd been bad to watch, how much worse would it have been to experience it?

He considers for a moment, then makes his decision; he maneuvers a bit through the crowd, slipping through to approach the two blondes from the side rather than head on. "Hello, Elbows," Silas calls. "You saw it too, I'm assumin'?"

Lashirah, for her part, is looking decidedly uncomfortable about the number of faces she's recognizing. Then there's the moment that has her basically freeze solid: she spots one Elizabeth Harrison. The former company, former Ferry agent walks slowly through the crowd towards her, an eyebrow raised. "…could have sworn the last I saw of you, you jumped into a singularity" she shakes her head. "Reports of your demise were a bit premature, my own included?" A retreat from one strangeness to a more concrete strangeness. One the forensics girl is more comfortable with.

Nathalie looks over at Liz at her arrival and she lets out a gentle sigh. Relief. She gives her a nod in greeting— she can't quite make it to a smile. "I'm glad you're here. All this," she says with a wave of her hand, "it's all a bit much." And maybe Liz will be better at making sense of it than she will. At the very least, there's someone besides her who can spread the word beyond this gathering.

And that gives her the freedom to think about the alcohol.

"Eve, I'm getting a drink," she says as she turns to duck behind the bar. She's no mixologist, so she just grabs a glass, some ice and a pricey whiskey to fill the glass with. Eve will have to forgive her her taste— someone in her head really knows their stuff.

There's a soft chuckle at Nathalie, and Elisabeth nods slightly. "It's… not a simple world we live in, kiddo," she murmurs. There's a long look at Emily and the bird. There's a wariness to her blue eyes on that sight, and she offers Silas a nod when he catches her eye. Because they'll catch up when they can. Other faces she's only familiar with in passing. But Lashirah's presence brings her around with a surprised smile. "Well… maybe not exaggerated, just… misunderstood," she replies. "I was… out of reach, we'll call that… until January. It's been kind of insane trying to wrap my head around the years." She takes in the woman's appearance and nods as if assuring herself of something. "Damn, you look really good. Ready to jump feet-first into the bullshit again?" Because what the hell else are they all here for if not to talk about The Bad Shit that is coming at them. Shared dreams never bode well.

So many familiar faces.



You were never-


"Oh dear," Eve's eyes take in Finch's face and she looks on in worry. "You poor thing. Are you alright?" Everyone would remember her as the one that went pop in the dream. As Kara comes nearer, her former boss smiles and dips her head. "Face it. Always." A squeeze of her shoulder before she stands and looks around the room.

Poppy goes back to the bar to fill drink orders. "My friends, I spoke out after the other night, trying to gather as many of us together as we could."

You are nothing.

"What we saw, I don't believe to be just a dream. Or just a possible future to maybe come. That was a promise," Looking from everyone's faces intensely, "It, has no name. It cares for none. We who have gifts, abilities. You would think we are kin to it but, it has made it clear that we are not its focus." Eve's fist balls up and she stares up towards the ceiling.

"I was visited. The same night of the dream, by the spirit who gave it to us. It says the world was made for us but really it means the world is theirs. It wants to unite… more than just this world. Every single one," She pauses, eyes wide open. Crimson red mist wafting off of her. Eve acknowledging that there is more than one timeline publicly is… what it fucking is."One circle, one world. Dominated by It. We are in the middle of a tug and war between an Immortal and Supposed God," it's more contempt than she's ever truly shown for The Entity. "And I for one? Am tired of it. This is our world, our time. We have suffered for it, lost our loved ones for it. Driven insane for it." There's a frown at that.

"I don't know all the answers, but I know when we are together. When we stand united. We overcome anything! And so…" Waving her hands around the room, "Welcome!" There's some return of her energy, that seemingly boundless optimism. "It is a lot to take in but we gain nothing working solo in the shadows," A critique on herself maybe from her days in the past.

Eve's summation of The Cluster Fuck to End All Cluster Fucks is rousing to say the least, and met with a strange creaking noise… The door to the back room eeks out a whine as Isis steps out from the back room. The small redhead stops short, eyes wide until a THUD knocks her forward a step - the swinging door literally hitting her in the ass on the way out.

The garnet haired bartender gives Eve a supportive little nod before letting her gaze glide across… so many people. So. Many. Touched. Tension lines her alabaster jaw, but the crowd turns into a hazy, colorful smear - a tunnel that rounds on the only clear thing. Clear person, rather - Finch. Suddenly the box contents are melting, bleeding out the soggy cardboard bottom. Oozing over her arms. Plopping sickly around her boots. The box heaves one way and then the other, slipping over her elbow-length gloves.


Blink-blink. With a detached, dreamy motion Isis looks down at the popped box's contents - brown fizz and shards of clearly unmelted glass. "Sorry. Sorry." A mumbled apology meant for no one, Isis glances one last time at Finch and bends down, pulling a bar rag from over her shoulder, and begins to mop the mess.

The door opens to another dreamer, quietly, while Eve starts her speech. Kaylee Thatcher steps into the room and almost leaves again. The gathered minds hum loudly battering against her mental defenses, she’ll have a headache quick enough. At least she made it in time to hear what Eve had to say, but just only.

Truth be told Kaylee had watched most of them arrive from her car, blue eyes following each dreamer as they slipped into Cat’s Cradle.

Now the telepath watches them all again from her spot at the door, only to drop her gaze to the floor. Guilt settles heavily into her stomach at Eve’s words, because this world was largely a product of her father’s ability. Gifted, just like Eve’s.

Of course, the crash by the bar jolts Kaylee out of her thoughts, pulling her attention to… Isis? Eyes widen at the sight of the woman looking healthy and seemingly whole. Completely different from when she last saw the woman. The surprise flattens out and with a clenched jaw, she forces her attention away from Isis and back to the room.

Inside, seeing how many people there are, Emily does her best to find a corner where she has a good vantage point and is also away from as many people as possible. "Listen," she tells the raven in a hushed voice, because that's perfectly normal to talk to the bird on your arm. (Dear god, sorry, Finch.) "Just stick with me, Eve is a fucking crazy person and she might think you're a pest problem that needs zapped out of existence. Which…"

She stops that thought short rather than ramble on any further, pulling her armperch in closer to herself to limit the chance someone well- or not-well-meaning could snatch the raven away from her. Her desire to slip away along the back wall puts her right in Silas's path, though, and she does a double-take upon seeing him.

The last time Emily saw Silas, she'd still thought he was a face-stealing alien from another dimension. Or worst-case, a face-stealing serial killer. "Jesus Christ," she breathes on seeing him, on being called out by him. Elbows, right. For when she bumped into him.

So much for trying to be a bastion of normal for Finch to guidepost her way through this situation.

Eve's speech saves her from the need to immediately respond, the pretense of listening more important than admitting she saw what everyone else had and was horrified by it. Though who knows who'd heard her shouting at the thing that had spoken, in the sea of other voices that had rallied against it. When Eve gets around to acknowledging the other versions of reality, Emily's shoulders slope downward, expression hardening. "Fuck." she mutters, glancing for a moment at silas and then past him again.

Emily holds her tongue on anything else immediately, eyes closing hard. She agrees with Eve, that they need to stand united against the thing that wants to end the world they know, but she's not going to be acknowledging that right now. She opens her eyes on realizing she doesn't need to stand close to Eve, just not eschew everyone else here.

"I'm Emily, by the way," is how she decides to start with that, looking back to Silas. "This is Finch," she says with a nod in the direction of the yellow poof of a human she'd come in with. The bird with her, as hard to ignore as it is, gets no introduction. "I don't think I caught your name last time."

Finch's response to Eve's question is an enraptured 3 seconds of staring. Is she alright? The answer does not seem as readily available as a weak but genuine smile that disappears shortly after Eve's attention moves away from her. When the speech bewilders her further, she looks to Emily for answers, only to find her friend talking to the bird on her arm.

Which. That's a thing.

Deciding answers will maybe come later, Finch follows Emily further in while looking over any face in sight. When she finally stops and is introduced to Silas, she looks him over and offers him another brief smile and does her very best attempt of acting casual because she's definitely 100% been in a bar before - an attempt which is thwarted immediately when she starts fidgeting with a hem on her jacket, and even further when she gasps at the noise of breaking glass, her attention snapping to the sound, wide eyes locking on the box and on Isis' face.

"O-ohmygosh! I'm sorry," she offers Silas and Emily, before finding herself moving toward the box to kneel down next to it, "Do you need help?" Then, quieter, a note more distressed, "Were you next to me?"

Eve talks. Nathalie drinks.

When Eve stops, Nat lifts a hand to get the former prophet's attention. "Since I've already heard this speech, more or less, am I free to go?" There's no small amount of bitterness there, she's not even trying to hide it for the sake of those gathered. Even the ones new to the bullshit. She glances over to Kaylee when she enters, and is careful about keeping her thoughts under control— even those that aren't hers, strictly speaking. No telepath needs that taking them by surprise.

The only person who gets something like an apologetic look is Emily. Her sister may get the impression that she's being loud to draw attention this direction instead of at the bird. She may not be thrilled about its presence, but at the same time, she doesn't want it to end up the center of a mob. Even if it's just a mob of curiosity.

If Silas noticed Elbows talking to her bird, he doesn't comment on it; crewing for Mad Eve has left him with a very high threshold when it comes to weirdness. Eve's passthrough forestalls any immediate response from the blonde, though, and when Eve starts to speak, Silas's attention is drawn completely away.

When she starts to speak of uniting, though, Silas's eyes widen. Every single one… bringing the worlds together? he thinks, recalling the parade of horrors he'd witnessed at the end of the dream. Was that what all that was about? Another thought follows on the heels of that one, though, one that shakes him even more deeply. Oh god. That's… that's what Don was raving about. Jesus fucking Christ… the Flood, undone. 'All our loved ones back'…

A third thought, sneaking in from the basement of his mind like a vampire creeping out of its coffin. Would that truly be so bad? To see Aces again? The crew? Your crew, that you left behind? The thought brings a very real pain, but he fights it off. Would you want to introduce them to Redd? And he definitely wouldn't want to put anyone through those horrors he'd witnessed, either. If that's the price… it's not worth it. It can't be.

The loud crash of something breaking draws his focus back to the here and now. He glances over at the bar, sees the bartender sneak a glance at Finch before disappearing under the bar to clean up whatever it was she'd just dropped — a lot of bottles, sounds like.

In truth he's glad for the distraction; it gives him a chance to pull himself together. As Elbows — Emily — introduces herself, his attention returns to her. He sets his features into a smile — not his brightest one, but one intended to be reassuring. "Pleased to meetcha Emily. Finch," he says, nodding to each in turn…

…but Finch is already taking her leave; seems she hadn't missed the bartender sneaking glances at her, either. Silas's grin widens as Finch goes to help the bartender, giving Emily a wordless grin of honest amusement… albeit one that fades a bit around the edges as the woman at the bar throws her question at Eve. Well, whatever; it's inevitable that if you get a crowd in a bar, there'll be at least one person who's a humbug.

The only reason that Dumortier doesn't initially walk out when Eve starts in on some Weird Shit is because Kara and Min are his ride here. The more Eve speaks, however, he finds himself just that much more wanting to listen to where she is headed. Despite the people willingly grabbing drinks at this point, he remains reluctant. Much of this is already beyond his scope, but… if all these people are not at all shocked themselves for Eve's talk of gods and timelines and- -

Rene startles at the crash outside of his vision, looking up first to Finch as she starts towards the source, then angles a look for the latter. Hackles raise in record time, and the rest of the bar is replaced by a rush of blood behind eardrums. It muffles his steps in his own ears as he walks wordlessly away from Yi-Min towards where Isis and Finch are mopping up glass and alcohol. To an outsider, maybe he's helping- - yet he stops exactly where he knows the redhead will see his boots before the rest of him.

Instead of aiding with the mayhem created by the redheaded woman in any meaningful way whatsoever, Yi-Min detaches herself from Kara and Rene with only one silently and somewhat mysteriously dire glance of acknowledgement. She drifts over behind the bar and comes to rest next to Nathalie like a small, weirdly alcohol-attracted shadow. "Good choice," she declares softly and matter-of-factly to the much younger girl after just one abbreviated scan reveals to her the brand of expensive whiskey that Nat had chosen; the Taiwanese woman is staring straight ahead again— in the direction of Eve, and the bank of dream-familiar faces— once again by the time she says this.

It's clear that the speech is what she is turning over in her mind, though she doesn't come out and say it. It's in the wry thoughtfulness of her dark eyes. And then she leans out a little, still without looking.

"Mind if I have a drink of this?" Another light, frank murmur to Nat, spoken in the shared conspiratorial tones of being mutual bystanders at this strange spectacle.

Kara starts to slip back away from the stage when Eve begins her speech, perfectly ready to slip back into obscurity and resume her watch. Yi-Min's inviting of herself to the bar along is almost welcome, since that puts her in one spot in particular. The thin blonde with the raven is almost clear at the other end of the building now, though, so watching them both at once becomes slightly more of a Task. Her arms come to fold before her right as the case slips from Isis' hands and falls to the floor.

Everyone just seems to be having a night here.

The urge to loop Rene in and engage his help in what's gotten her hackles raised is quashed by the fact he heads straight over in Isis' direction. One eyebrow ticks up as she looks after him briefly before resuming her study of the bar's patrons, wondering what has him stepping so lively. It’s a thought cut short when Kara’s gaze skips to stops between Elisabeth and then Kaylee before moving on. At seeing them in particular, she tries to hold the girl with the bird in her periphery still, but makes her way back to Yi-Min.

“Plenty of faces here,” Kara remarks once she’s better within earshot. For all that she tries to lighten her voice, it’s still gruff, nearly terse. “Did you find what you were looking for here?”

There's a crash and Eve looks over towards Isis with a sheepish smile, yes Cat's is on its best behavior. There's so many people here and Eve is almost overwhelmed. "Sit that ass down Young Nathalie! Drinks are on the house tonight! If you have anything you need to say, just come up here and shout! We are together, we are united, we will see this through!"


Is that…

Do you see that??


"Is that a bird?!" Eve shouts and looks excited, she thinks it has to be Eileen. "Bird!"

Go see her! Maybe she's seen Jazzhands!


Eve explodes, her physical form vanishing and in place floats the brilliant crimson cloud of energy that is her true form. Not everyone has seen it but before much longer the cloud bops along, floating down from the stage towards Emily and the bird. The cloud passes by people and if Eve could wave she could instead the cloud does a belch of red mist.

When she arrives in front of the younger blonde the wild woman snaps back to her pale human form and grins as she stares at the bird up and down. "You've brought a friend! You should have told me! I would have set out bird feed." Eve clasps her hands together, it's the little things. Nature that takes her out of the funk she's been in since two nights ago. "Isis! A bird! Is it-" Eve leans in towards Emily and whispers, "Is Bird here to say hello?"

Is that the bird or Bird Eileen?

Nathalie glances to Yi-Min when she speaks to her and slides the whiskey over to her in reply. "I think you might need more than one drink." Because Eve is… Eve.

And Nat sighs at the explosion, her face buried in her hands while Eve coos over the bird. "Eve," she says, frustration evident, "what are we doing here? Are we opening an aviary or are we talking strategy? You wanted us here. We're here." She gestures to the room, to the people gathered here. Straightening up from the bar, she presses her palms against it instead. "Can we stay on task?"

She doesn't really mean we, Eve.

She means you.

It's going about like every Eve meeting ever goes. Elisabeth crosses her arms and wishes she dared join Nathalie in belting down a drink or 12. Her reaction to the puff of red cloud is to groan. "Jesus fucking Christ." It's said under her breath, but the expression on her face pretty much says it all. "Focus, Eve," she encourages.

Although now her blue eyes on Emily are wary as fuck. Because could Eileen be watching? Absolutely. And that makes her uncomfortable, given their past. That is a debt she is never likely to square.

"I think it's safe to say no one wants to see another war come to pass. It didn't require a pep rally. Did you just want to know how many people dreamed it, or did you have something else you wanted to offer?" Despite any mild annoyance, Elisabeth too is well used to Eve's meandering ways. But if this is all she needed, it's time to go.

Yi-Min doesn't need telling twice. She takes the whiskey that Nathalie propels in her direction with a brief, pleased nod of thanks, helping herself to an empty snifter glass from the sparkling lineup behind the counter and pouring herself out a very generous drink. "Thus far, only more questions," she admits when Kara rejoins her, already primly taking a sip from the glass in hand. The other hand she closes over the top of Kara's against a shelf just beneath them, interlacing their fingers together in a resting position.

"So. You know her already, I take it?"

Re: Eve, of course. The question becomes extremely and unintentionally well-timed when said subject explodes into a foggy red miasma. Yi-Min follows the path traveled by the phenomenon, though not quite so much as she notes the reaction gathered from some of the others— or lack thereof. With a keen interest that is still expressed through her eyes alone, she also waits for an answer to the question of what it is that Eve proposes to do.

Kara stands still and stoic while Yi-Min snakes their fingers together below the surface of the bar, one of the number unaffected by Eve's whisperscream of a transformation. If anything, she seems to find that more normal than anything else.

"Eve, yes," she admits, watching the interaction that begins to play out a little too attentively. "I came through here on my way back from Connecticut. The girl, though, she's new." Kara looks askance to the unknown young woman on Yi-Min's other side for only a moment before continuing on, frowning to herself. She drops her voice so it carries less, but she can't help if there's people in their immediate vicinity behind the her who will still hear. "But I'll eat my shoe if that's not Gray's raven she has with her." The former munitions chaplain reaches across to borrow Yi-Min's glass directly from her.

This is a situation best faced with a drink in her, she agrees.

"Bird. Right. Greeeaaaat." The last tone carries wholly Isis's one soul opinion of beaked taloned creatures - They are called foul for a reason. "Don't let it poop on you. They carry diseases." The redhead goes about mopping up the frothy mess. "And mites," she grumbles. For all her tangibility, she looks every bit as likely to explode as Eve had. Her skin hums with it even as her eyes remain steadfastly on the mess before her.

But then, that girl just couldn't let it alone… Isis peeks up a Finch, a half-loosened messy bun letting garnet coils obscure half her face. The expression writ in golden-flecked eyes and freckled contours is taut - a flinch of pity here and a twitch of bitterness there. Great, not only was the young girl a haunting reminder… She's nice, too. Ugh. "Yeah. That was me… You aren't going to turn into pink flesh soup anytime soon, right?" She looks back to her mess. "Because, I've got enough to clean up." Because, where clearing her throat fails, surely nippy sarcasm is bound to clear up the tension in her throat.

Long, slender fingers kissed in matte-black reach for a rogue curl of sharp brown glass then. And find a boot fall obscuring her reach. "'Scuse me. The 'Wet Floor' signs have all been turned into tastefully lewd artwork, so you're goin' to have to…" Measured word-to-inch, Isis's gaze creeps up Rene's form until. "Oh…"

Some people shiver when they are in trouble. Maybe some plead. Perhaps other schmooze. Isis grins - toothy, sharp edged, laugh lines and all. "Fuck," she chirps.

Suddenly there's a fresh clatter as Isis tries to spring to her feet, kicking up a spray of booze and glass, to sprint around the bar and towards the back door.

Rene would be way more fascinated with Eve's crazy shenanigans if he weren't currently preoccupied. He can absorb the tableau in the background later. Right now, however, his looming feels much taller than it should. He does not seem concerned about the wet floor.

Isis' grinning is met with an angry hiss from behind Dumortier's teeth. "Vous salope- -"

When she tries to run, he pounces. More or less. Whatever else is going on takes a backseat, and very likely the fine ladies he came with are going to wonder if they can take him anywhere. They can. He's just pissed off. Dumortier cuts off Isis in her attempt to dart around the bar, catching her in the side of the knee with a sharp kick, bringing her to the floor. A moment later, a gloved fist cracks her in the face.

The former seer’s outburst, pulls Kaylee’s attention to the ‘bird’ and her breath catches. A glance around mentally and physically tells her that Eileen isn’t there.. At least not in person. That was a relief at least. The last time Kaylee had seen the raven it was attacking her while quoting Shakespear and she had heard about the fate of its companion.

Unlike Eve, her reaction is subdued with a calming breath to settle her nerves. Though for a second time since getting there, Kaylee is tempted to leave. For now, she continues to hold by the door.

She is just relaxing when an altercation breaks out. As upset she is at Isis, this was not going to end well with who all is in this room. So she straightens. “Hey!!! Kaylee calls out, sharply. “I don't know who the fuck you are, but knock it off. This is not the time nor place for this shit. Any of it!” She sends a shape look at others. “If you don't want me to run both your asses down to the precinct, sit the fuck down, and act civil.” Afterward Isis is on her own. That is what she wanted after all.

The last time Emily Epstein saw Eve Mas split from one form to another, it was decidedly a more explosive ordeal. She flinches. The mere gust of air instead of the crackle-boom she'd expected comes as a shock, and she finds herself pulling her arm in closer to herself, the other lifted like it might actually shield the raven ruffling its feathers as she leans back away from Eve.

It caws oppressively on her arm at the cloud that makes its way close and turns back into a human again.

Jesus fuck. Emily can't even get the words out, wild-eyed looking at Eve as she appears. She slinks back, almost like she's trying to use Silas a human shield for whatever the fuck is going on. Eve's words honestly don't register at first, but then they click into place.

"What?" she asks, tone empty. It fills immediately with vitriol a fingersnap later. "No."

And then a fight is breaking out. Emily's gaze jerks in that direction briefly before she does a very Birdlike thing, and uses the distraction to complete her backpedal into the crowd and head straight for the door. She mutters darkly and derisively as she shoulders it open.

Focus Egg!

You're not my mom!

I'm- I'm not.

"Exactly!" Eve yells aloud and it's like she snaps too, there's Emily snapping and exiting with the bird. There's Nathalie snapping at her and then Liz.

Noisey noisey reeeeewooooo!

"Oh not in my house," Eve mutters and she rushes forward, heading towards the bar. Towards the fight. Slamming against the bar Eve reaches over behind the bar and pulls out…

A trumpet!


Tossing the brass instrument over her shoulders, it smacks someone in the face. The dark haired woman rummages behind the bar again and her eyes widen and she grins, "Aha!" Eve pulls out…

A fucking gun.


Two shots are fired into the air, some plaster falls from the ceiling, a few pieces striking Eve's shoulder who wobbles, "Quiet!" Red lightning pops along her arms.

What's the right answer when asked if you're going to turn into flesh soup again? Finch stands up straight again, hands drawn up and close to her chest, looking at once taken aback and almost guilty that she doesn't have an answer for Isis.

"Oh, um-" She blinks, with a bright, disarming smile that does not last through the collection of strange noises that follow from around the room, and when Dumortier goes in for a fight, she does not wait to listen to her instincts - the realisation that she's in over her head dawns fully and brutally, and she's begun to walk before she's even aware of it, shouldering through the crowd with a look of urgent panic, eyebrows set low as she escapes - hopefully toward the door.

Whatever she came here for, whatever this is, she was not ready. This goes doubly for the gunshots that ring, setting her jaw and locking her knees as she tumbles into the next person she was about to push past.

Everything feels as though it slows into a diorama-like blur for Yi-Min in the events surrounding the firing of the gun. Whatever reaction she might have had to Rene jumping onto Isis like an angry cat disappears when a trumpet goes sailing with comedic forlornness past her frame and then who else but Finch

trips. Crumples into her arms on her way towards the exit beyond the bar.

Yi-Min, who luckily had already handed off her nearly-full glass of whiskey to Kara by that point, is fast enough in reflex to catch the girl well before she is able to smash bodily onto the floor. The Taiwanese woman's breath catches in her chest, but it is from something that is quite unrelated to physical exertion.

It is far more visceral than that: an unavoidable remembrance of the night of the visions of devastation and burning, when Yi-Min had futilely reached out in the effort to stop the liquefaction of Finch's form—

The embrace of Yi-Min's slender arms is real, now. And this time, astonished though she is, chaotic though the moment around them is, she is able to hold it strong.

Eve, goddammit, Silas thinks, his expression turning flat as she starts going cuckoo about Emily's pet bird. He notices Emily trying to slink behind him; fine. Fair enough. Maybe she's a bird-talker or something and shy about it. He used to know of someone who could do that, didn't he? Irene? Eileen? Whatever. It's a thing, maybe it's Emily's thing too.

Then Mr. Sunshine decides to start beating the piss out of the bartender. Fucking —

Then someone starts yelling about the cops, and that's definitely something he doesn't need in his life right now —

Then, as if things couldn't get any more off the rails, Eve whips out a gun and starts shooting into the air. Silas's expression goes even flatter. Is this how my dad felt? It is, isn't it, he marvels.

"I don't know what I expected," Silas mutters flatly, regarding Eve with a look of mingled disappointment and resignation. No, he does know what he'd expected — he'd expected that Eve would have her shit together. And for a little bit it seemed she had. But now… now here she is waving a gun around, and it's clear that no, her shit has now gone all over the fucking place. Maybe that isn't entirely fair to Eve; even the coolest head might not have been able to bring order at this point. Fair or not, though, the shit has hit the fan, and it doesn't seem likely that anyone's gonna be able to get the mess cleaned up as things are now. "Maybe I should just go…" he murmurs, and that thought seems more and more attractive the more he thinks it over. Emily certainly seems to have reached that conclusion — she is definitely bailing. He can't fault her for it.

Maybe I shouldn't have come in the first place, Silas thinks… and maybe that's true, too. Although he probably oughta tell Finch that her friend has bailed, at least… and maybe bail her out of this if it goes any more pear-shaped. Fine, he thinks, slipping towards the bar. Finch just had a near faceplant moment, it seems; luckily one of Mister Sunshine's friends caught her on the way down. That's good.

Although… the woman who caught her looks familiar, now that he thinks about it. It takes a moment for it to come to him, though — she'd been one of the ones that Finch had melted on in the dream. And, now that he thinks about it, the other one had been a redhead. Kinda like the bartender Mister Sunshine had been beating the piss out of a moment ago. Ain't that a hoot, he thinks to himself.

But there's not a lot of time to dwell on it. Silas clears his throat apologetically, looking to Finch. "Finch. Emily's leaving," he says quietly, glancing towards the door.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. It goes to hell exactly as fast as she should have expected. Just not in the ways she might have expected. There's the fight — the redhead looks vaguely familiar, but Elisabeth wasn't really involved in any of that so only vaguely. There's Kaylee doing her job — Liz is kinda proud and kinda horrified all at once. And then there's Eve with a fucking gun. The sheer insanity of this moment makes her close her eyes, flinching even as the gunshots sound. Touching Kaylee's arm, she glances at her sister(-in-law). This is going south fast. Get Emily and the kid out if it turns into a free-for-all.

Raising her voice just a bit then amplifying it to carry to all without shouting, Elisabeth offers into the moment of startled silence that always follows gunshots, "Why us? Has anyone considered that question? Why us in particular and not any number of other Evos in the city?"

Finch, expecting to hit the floor and instead finding herself in Yi-Min's arms, looks up with immediate recognition. She's startled, that much is clear, and even more so when she hears Silas telling her Emily's up and left - but… this time.

This time there's something more. In the absence of the dream's foretelling becoming reality, she offers a tearful look of gratitude and a smile, and pushes her shoulders upward to wriggle free while gently announcing, "I have to go."

Because if no one else will take the stage, she will.

With every step closer - over some legs and a tuba and past Eve and lightning and who knows whatever else - her gait grows in confidence. By the time she clambers onto the stage and rights herself with a start, she's looking out over everyone with a look of utter disappointment. Like each and every person here has let her down personally. And she's furious about it. Standing in her bright yellow puffer jacket overlooking it all.

"Stop it! Stop FIGHTING!" She yells, voice shrill and cracking, unused to being raised this way, eyebrows set as low as they will go. Then, she points directly to Elisabeth. "Everyone be quiet and listen unless you have something useful to say! Or GET. OUT!"

She breathlessly mouths something to herself that looks suspiciously like 'You animals'.

Animals indeed. Eve looks down at the ground, jaw working back and forth before she turns her back and heads towards the Oracle Room.

This was hopeless, she was hopeless. She was a wreck.

Best to smoke a joint and leave, nobody will notice.

Nay!!! I say-

"Will you shut the hell up?" Eve shouts mostly to the voices in her head and throws the door to downstairs open. "If you want to fight, doom yourselves to subordination? Be my guest!" Poppy looks over at Eve with wide eyes, "Kara will you- fucking act like you know how to bounce a bar!" The young woman is desperate for the fighting to stop.

Eve doesn't look back, she just slams the door shut behind her. Walking down the stairs with her head bowed.

They would need a miracle.

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