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Scene Title | Four And Twenty Black-Birds Of Bad Romance |
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Synopsis | Brennan comes seeking some information and to pick the brains of Julie and Luis for possibly solution to the wayward dreamer. |
Date | December 2, 2010 |
Suresh Center - Public Computer Labs
"Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a piiiiie~"
Doctor Jean-Martin Luis is an alto, which is respectable for a man of his age. One rubber-gloved hand raised towards the fluorescent lights overhead, the neuroscientist is striking a most theatrical of poses in the middle of a computer lab, surrounded by unoccupied and quietly humming workstations in off-hours at the Suresh Center.
Giggling amusedly, his audience of one sits at the desk at the head of the lab, face bright red and one hand covering her mouth as child-like laughter is the Doctor's applause. Julie Fournier, of whom has been a regular presence around the Suresh Center as of late, sits with legs crossed and labcoat unbuttoned at the desk that faces the rows of publicly available computer terminals. It isn't a common place for neither she nor Doctor Luis to be found, where any common rabble off the street might bother them, but with the Suresh Center seeing a numbers of visitors and the hour steadily creeping towards lunchtime, there's never usually many people in the computer lab anyway.
Except for Doctor Harve Brennan, there in the doorway, new target of Luis' sheepish stare.
He wasn't singing, honest.
Brennan smiles, conspiratorially at the pair, a finger held up to his mouth as if to say shhhh, as he leans back to check the hall, make sure there's no one else in the path behind him before he's closing the door. The moment it's closed though, he's spreading his arms and hand, making claw motions, one leg bent and starts doing something akin to the twist.
Brennan can't sing worth crap. It's plain to hear when he starts in on a bad rendition of…. "I want your loving and I want your revenge, you and me could make a bad romance. I want your loving all your lovers revenge….." Gaga. Someone read the pause magazine article. "Rah rah ohh la la …."
"Roma, roma, ma," Julie chimes in between giggles without hardly missing a beat, springing up from the desk in such an animated and youthful way it almost reminds Brennan of her twin sister. Were it not for the dark circles under her eyes and the pallid colorof her skin, he might even be able to believe that. "Want your bad romance!"
Luis cracks a smile, uncharacteristically, at Brennan and rests one gloved hand on his hip, tilting his chin up slowly as he begins to saunter across the computer lab with a click-clap of his black leather shoes. "Walk, walk, fashion baby," has a preposterously grumbling tone, and Luis' capability to manage a straight face throughout all of this seems unlikely, and yet there it is. "Work it, move that thing, crazy." His gray brows rise up slowly, offering a look to Julie as if implying that it is her cue.
"Walk, walk, fashion baby!" Julie chirps a little off-key as she rests her hands on her hips, strutting towards Luis in a challenging manner, looking him up and down with faux judgemental glare. "Work it, move that thing, crazy." She whips her head around, pony-tail lashing with the motion, affixing Brennan with a leveled blue-eyed stare.
His cue.
Brennan can take the cue, does take the cue and whips his lab coat off and to the side dramatically, as if he was doing this for the benefit of his own children and not just for the obviously ill julie. Thanks to one of the frequent patients of the place and her love of all things gaga, including demonstrating some of the moves. He moves his feet forward, back, forward and back, hands still in their akward 'monster' pose, swinging his arms forward and back as well in a windmill like way. "I want your love and I want your revenge, I want your love, I don't wanna be friends"
This brings him to Julie and he holds is hands out to her as if crooning, the french coming out perhaps a bit less perfect than Luis's or her own but with a barely discerned accent. Only those in the know would know he wasn't a native speaker. "Je veux ton amour, Et je veux ta revanche, J'veux ton amour" An offer to spin her around the room if she so wants.
It's hard for Julie to spin, when her legs have completely given out beneath herself and she has completely collapsed into a giggling, snorting and laughing mess. Hands covering her mouth, Julie offers nothing in the way of reassurance that she is fine, save for the bright red color of her face and the whooping laughter fitfully taking control of her. Luis even, marginally cracks up with a brief splutter of laughter before regaining his composure and clearing his throat.
Trying to be the demur scientist, Luis stiffens his posture and glances down to where Julie is kneeling on the floor, arms around herself, laughing hysterically. "Ah, Doctor Brennan," Luis flashes a brief and awkward smile up to Harve. "I hope for some… doctor-patient confidentiality in that moment of temporary insanity, yes?"
The smile comes back, even as Luis is trying to di his level best to ignore the fact that Julie is still laughing. "What— brings you down here to the labs on your lunch break. Don't you," a quick glance to Julie, then back up to Brennan, "usually have lunch with your wife?"
he'll help her up then, at least, once she's been down on the floor long enough, his own laughter subsiding at the rare moment that surely, hopefully, no camera's caught. "I saw nothing but a fellow scientist and another fellow scientist working diligently at their respective projects with the upmost professional decorum that one can maintain in the light of the dark times in the city"
There is a concerned look for the dark circles, a momentary press of the back of his hand to her forehead, but he checks himself after, sure that Luis would be looking after her and treating her if she was sick.
"Michelle's running her replacement through the day to day at the practice so that she can go on leave and this was a bit more pressing. I'm making it up to her by taking her out to D'Sarthe's tonight. You both should come over some night for dinner. I'm sure Michelle would enjoy meeting Julie and it might be nice to have another Frenchman. She misses her home. Maman Genevieve will be flying in soon to stay with us till after our son is born. If there's anything from over the water that you'd love to have brought, you'll let me know?" This more to Luis than to Julie.
His lab coat however, is plucked back up, shaken off. "I have a strange question. A patient of old, is having an issue with her ability. What do you, or even you Julie, know about Dreamwalkers. Oniermancers"
Smiling away in stoicly dismissive nature the kind offer of the Brennans, Luis clears his throat and instead focuses on something less awkward than social expectations. "They are nothing but trouble," the old scientist notes with a grumbling tone of voice, watching as Julie manages to get her laughter under control, reaching up to take Brennan's hand and pulls herself up to her feet. "Notoriously slippery to deal with, and like a fine wine or vinegar they get stronger with age."
Lifting a hand to scratch idly at his brow, Luis glances down to Julie, watching her smoothing out the front of her labcoat, offering a sheepish and embarrassed expression in brief flash to Brennan before simply turning and walking over to where he'd shed his jacket. Julie leans over, picks up the coat and begins dusting it off before returning it back to its owner.
"Dreamwalkers are psychics, theoretically an evolutionary branch of telepathy. Where one uses the mind to reach out and intercept the electrical signals of the human mind and convert them into understandable thoughts, dreamwalkers project their thoughts out into the minds of others. They eventually learn to utilize subconscious suggestions and things of the sort to manipulate an unconscious mind."
All rather business-like, Julie seems to be much the expert on the topic. "I read a case file, once, of a Department of Homeland Security agent named Stephen Verse, who possessed what is believed to be the evolutionary missing link between telepathy and dreamwalking. He was able to insinuate himself into an unconscious mind, and read information from their dreams like a telepath would a waking individual. No two dreamwalkers are exactly alike, however, they can vary off into wildly different paths of development, but by and large they are also exceedingly rare."
Julie's brows pinch together, then one lifts up higher than the other. "Was there a specific topic of interest you had with them, Doctor Brennan?"
"I have a wayward sheep, lost, and I'm trying to play little bo-peep" Laymans terms really, and he doesn't need to with this pair. "I've consulted with Mr. Gautlin, Dema, and am utilizing his help in the matter. Her name is Delia Ryans, 20 years of age and just recently within the last few months come to her ability. She's been appearing in the dreams of people, appeared in one of mine. Couldn't recollect who she was, didn't know where she was going and asked for help. She's appeared in dreams with Agent Lupinetti who's been looking for her father a former company agent. She's appeared to Mr. Gautlin as well who is currently in the process of trying to track her in the ether, for lack of a better word."
The jacket taken from the teenager, he drapes it over his own arm, leaning against a table. "The problem is that apparently, she's lost. Literally. Disconnected from her body and no GPS to guide her back." Between the two of him he looks, relying upon the twin powers of nerd/geek/science that reside in the brains of both Julie and Luis.
"I'm headed down an Inception type road, if I want to get her back to her body, aren't I?"
One slow brow arches as Luis considers Brennan's question, then closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly. "Always with experimentation beyond ones means, is it impossible for someone manifesting to practice temperance in their activities? This generation is impossible." Despite Luis' grumpy diatribe, Julie seems no less intent on fixing the problem, while Luis dismisses the issue entirely with a flippant wave of his hand.
"I'm familiar with the case," Julie admits thoughtfully. "What it sounds like happened, is that Delia over-extended herself beyond the boundaries of her mind's ability to successfully project the electrical impulses of conscious thought and still have a bearing back to her open consciousness. It's dangerous, because outside of herself she risks— well, in electrical engineering terms— signal degredation." That sounds just as dire as it is.
"The longer she is away from her body, the weaker she is going to become, until… eventually," Julie furrows her brows, "I think she'd probably just fade away, unless she finds some way to… feed off of other people?" There's a scrunch of her nose there. "I honestly don't even know how that would work. Your best bet, though, is to track down her body and try to lure her dreaming mind into the consciousness of a telepath. Someone who can lock her down, then bring her back to her body and… I guess pour her out into her own mind, like a funnel."
To demonstrate, Julie tilts her head to the side and makes a pouring motion into one ear. "It doesn't sound particularly easy."
"I wasn't expecting easy. Nothing in this world is easy. Especially not when it comes to SLC-Expressive abilities or situations where they come into play. The first step then would be securing her body. Which unfortunately, I don't know how to go about doing. She couldn't tell me where it was, and any records that she had, the address is defunct. No one there." Brennan crosses his arms, like he does his ankles while picking the minds of the two.
"So we need a telepath" Maybe not the easiest thing to find. "Mr. Gautlin wants to request some Amp, he thinks that it might. would help to boost his ability that he can track her, sedation to keep him under and give him more time to scour for her, pick up her trails and secure her in the ether" He calls it ether for lack of a better word.
"Is there not some way we could create a sort of mental Faraday cage, via a willing individual, till we could find her body?"
"Mmmmmnh Amphodynamine is extremely dangerous in this situation." Now they have reached a topic Luis is expert at, Evolved biochemistry and neurological chemical interactions. "If Revision I is used there is a distinct onset time that must be accounted for and a noticable but not guaranteed success in the power boost. It may be effective, but…" Luis' brows furrow thoughtfully. "Revision II is completely out of the question. It would provide a dramatic power boost, but it is synthesized with Refrain. The vulnerability to psychic trauma associated with that vile drug would put mister Gautlin in considerable risk."
"I have to concur with Papa," Julie admits with a stroke of one hand over her chin, her blue eyes peering up at the doctor briefly before meeting Brennan's stare again. "It's risk versus reward, there, and when dealing with dreamwalkers the risk can always be high. As for the construction of a… psychic faraday cage, that— that's possible." A wary look is briefly fired to Luis, but the doctor silently shakes his head no about something, and Julie continues in a different train of thought.
"You'd need a strong telepath, stronger than the dreamwalker at the very least. Someone with a seasoned ability to resist mental influence that would be containing miss Ryans. Or… someone with a more specialized ability at trapping consciousness, but— those aren't exactly common."
"Not as common as Emapthy" Brennan agree's. Which to him seems to be a pretty common ability in it's various forms both weak and strong. "So the amphodynamine is not an answer nor something that can really be used to assist. In either revision of the drug." Brennan catches the glimpse from Julie to her 'father' and shakes his head, reaching out to gently take her chin in his palm. "No. You don't get to do it. You're too young, and I'd need your help more outside of whomevers head it is that ends up playing zookeeper to a dreamwalker." if that's what she was sharing in her look.
"Her body. How do we go about finding it. Could be anywhere in New York. I don't care about tracking down her father, it's not my purview, but anothers. My concern here is that there has been an issue with individual possessing oniermancy and they didn a number on the city before. She needs training, she needs help and control, before she does accidentally do something monumentally stupid or…. her conciousness degrades and somewhere out there is a vegetable"
"Well, don't completely discount amphodynamine, but realize that it isn't a sure-fire win, and that the second revision of the drug that doctor Sheridan developed…" Luis slowly shakes his head, "that I would deem too risky to be safe for Dema to utilize. As for the tracking of the girl's body, unfortunately, we have had that asset of ours stripped. A satellite tracking project had been in development, but… instances outside of our control have made that an impossibility now. We have some hardware that can track large clusters of Evolved humans, but…" Luis' head shakes slowly. "That won't help find Delia specifically."
Julie seems less convinced about the amphodynamine angle, but she does have an unconventional bit of wisdom. "The other option we have is making Delia's body come to us. It would take a possessor and Dema, someone who could hitch-hike on his dreamwalking and be implanted into Delia's likely vegetative mind. From there we just… walk her body right on out of wherever it is. Didn't doctor Sheridan have someone who could possess people, Jet?"
"Jet, yes, it was in her original trancripts to the Company during her Refrain trials, I'd just re-read those the other day." Luis' brows furrow, his eyes flick over to Brennan. "The other alternative is a clairvoyant, someone who can see remotely, possibly… tapping in to Delia's mind or the location of where she is. However I do not know of one off hand."
"I do" He knows a clairvoyant. "Peyton Whitney. She won't be of help though, she can't stand the institute and she'd interpit my intentions to help as one to harm. Can't count on her to help" Body jumper though. 'The issue with Peyton, if we could get her to help, would be that if Delia is in a room with no discernible landmarks, we can't find her that way. The body possessor might be the more viable solution. That's if Dema can find and access her mind. What would happen if while the posessor is in the body, Delia is actually able to make an attempt to get into her body again?"
There's a plan forming, looking around for paper so he can start scribbling the suggestions from Julie and Luis.
"Well, that would be a good thing to learn," Luis offers with a fond smile and sudden interest on the topic. "Well, I'd imagine there might be some sorr of battle of wills, or… one would be ejected in favor of the other? There could be any number of complications in the right scenario though, all the way up to and including some sort of horrible gestalt entity forming." There's amusement ringing in Luis' voice at that. "The cognitive dissonance alone would be something marvelous to witness."
Julie offers a speculative look to Luis, then down to the floor as she shakes her head and pinches fingers at the bridge of her nose. "There's no way to tell what would happen, all jubilation aside." Blue eyes flick up impatiently to Luis, who now seems like the child of the two. "Dema has worked with Jet before, and if anyone can get in touch with them it he and Doctor Sheridan. It would be fortuitous if we were able to line up those people properly."
Julie furrows her brows, then looks down to the floor, stroking her chin. "Your only other recourse would be finding a strong enough telepath capable of trapping her consciousness in their own mind."
"You'd mentioned the telepath already" In case they'd forgotten. Eccentric people can at times, be forgetful people. "I'll see about Dema lining up this Jet woman, you two, if you please, can find me the strong enough telepath and toss me their name." Brenna rips off the piece pf paper, folding it in half so he can tuck it into the pocket of his jacket, a wry smile on his face. "eenie Meenie Miney moe, catch a dreamer by her toe, if she hollers don't let go…"
Waggling her brows at Luis, Julie sidles up to Brennan and tucks her hands into the pockets of her labcoat. "Well," comes out a bit brusquely as she offers a look back to Luis, who is now watching her like a hawk as if expecting her to say something he would need to cover her mouth, secrets man was not meant to know or something of the sort.
"I know one telepath, but I can't guarantee that he'll agree to help." There's a furrow of Julie's brows as she looks up to Brennan, back to Luis as she sticks her tongue out, then back to Brennan again. "But he is here in New York City…" All implications aside, Julie crosses her arms over her chest and smugly notes.
"I know where you can find Matt Parkman."
Everyone knows who Matt Parkman is. Brennan's hand flicks out, quick as can be, forefinger and thumb working in tandem to flick Julie's tongue before she can hide it away. "That's rude. Even if he might deserve it. Marlena's not allowed to do that" Gentle, friendly chiding. "You know who you can do that to? The new Geneticist. Dr. Eli. HE is in dire need of a humorplasty. We're talking terminal case of lack of humor. We're talking whoopie cushions and fake spiders. Only I'm not sure I know what will make a very dour geneticist smile, maybe you will though"
Brennan shifts his attention to Luis though. "Parkman can trap her then. We'll need Dema and Jet, to get her body. Can't do one without the other. I can plead with Parkman, see if he'll help. Do you know where in the city that I can find him?"
Doctor Elijah just got himself put on a certain blonde's list.
Nodding softly to the question, Julie uncrosses her arms and rests her hands on her hips, pushing her labcoat open as she does. "Last I'd heard he was receiving medical care for some injuries sustained on the 8th. I can get you his contact information from my computer upstairs, you just wait right here." Eager to please, Julie breaks away from Brennan and begins headed out of the computer lab, with Luis watching her wistfully the entire time.
He has little more to say to Brennan, just a slowly formed smile that implies his own personal opinion on things:
They grow up so fast.