Gray, Gloomy Day


brennan_icon.gif peyton_icon.gif

Scene Title Gray, Gloomy Day
Synopsis Brennan approaches a Clairvoyant - Peyton - who is either unwilling or truly just unable to help.
Date December 6, 2010

The Nite Owl

The Nite Owl is a survivor from ages past - one of those ancient diners with huge plate glass windows, checkerboard linoleum floor, and a neon owl over the entrance that blinks at those entering. Inside, there's an L-shaped main counter, complete with vintage soda fountain and worn steel stools. All of the cooking is done on the ranges ranked against the rear wall. The outer wall is lined with booths upholstered in cracked scarlet vinyl, tables trimmed with polished chrome. Despite its age, it's been lovingly maintained. The air is redolent with the scent of fresh coffee, vanilla, and frying food.

It's a cold and gray morning, but Peyton isn't heading into work despite the fact the clock is inching toward 10 a.m. The appointment she has makes her much, much more nervous than the usual hustle and bustle of a Monday morning at the office.

As she steps into the Nite Owl, she looks a little overdressed for the diner; a designer gray coat over a sweater dress and boots, she's clearly dressed for work. Not seeing Doctor Harve Brennan, someone she once would have looked forward to breaking bread with, she nods at the waitress who motions for her to pick her own seat.

The tall brunette moves to the table in the back, where she can see the front door and perhaps dodge through the back if she needs to.

When the waitress comes to pour a cup of coffee for her, Peyton nods her thanks, stirring creamer and sugar into it, and then lets her eyes fall out of focus on her own surroundings, to see how far away Brennan is — he's not late. She's just early.

Coming around the corner, if the familiar route that she just took is any indication, the movement of his steps as he hurries to get in from the cold. A glance down to pull off leather gloves, shiny shoes, pants, jacket, he's dressed as well for work. The door opens and if she cuts off, returning to normal vision and not evo-vision, he's crossing the threshold, pulling off a hat and looking around for the woman that he arranged the meeting with.

Which would be Peyton and he's heading across the diner towards her. "Ms. Whitney" He doesn't feel like he has the right to call her Peyton anymore, despite the help that he once gave her.

Those dark brown eyes boast nothing other than normal pupils when he comes into the diner. She smiles as he walks toward her booth, giving a nod toward the seat as she wraps her hands around her warm coffee cup. Her cheeks are flushed from the wintry weather outside and perhaps a little chagrin for their last meeting.

"Doctor Brennan," she says, no animosity in her voice, though it is a touch tentative, a touch uncertain. "Thanks for meeting me here. I have some business closeby today and it would have been inconvenient to schedule, otherwise."

"I would have waited until it was more convenient for you, but some things have a time limit, a best by date and unfortunately, this is one of them. I'm looking for someone, she's in trouble. A kind of trouble that her ability has put her in and can't get herself out of. The topic of your ability came up when I picked some brains for solutions."

THe waitress swings on by, offers of coffee, menu's, anything else that they could want and he overturns the coffee cup in his spot, a gesture to it for the filling of that essential breakfast beverage. "I've talked with your boss. He's had a conversation with me, you can talk with him, if you like, to confirm. I'm working for the institute" THis of course after the woman has taken off leaving the pair of them together. "But as your boss came to find out, not completely on board. I'm telling you this because what I'm about to ask you, may seem like i'm doing it for them, but I'm not." Truth be told, he's never lied to her before. Would he start now?

Peyton's brows raise slightly. "You spoke to my boss? You do know I'm a part owner of Redbird, yes?" she says, though her lips curve to let him know she's not actually offended on the matter. It's more of a cover to mask her surprise — or disbelief — that he's spoken to Cardinal anytime soon.

She's only seen him for 15 minutes of the last month, after all.

"But all right. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt — I mean, I don't think you're a bad person or anything, but you have to realize why … why the Institute makes me nervous," she says softly, voice dropping. "I can't promise — my power isn't as powerful as you think it is, I don't think… I'm not omniscient or anything, you know?"

"You may be the part owner, but the man in the stolen Horizon armor, has a different agenda, than a security company" Brennan points out. "Unless heading up Redbird with you includes clubbing doctors upside the head with guns" He points out, the pink line disappearing into the silvering hair at his temples probably caused by such.

"Her name is Delia Ryans. She's an Oniermancer. She's kicked her way into my dreams and decided that I was to help find her body. From what resources I have managed to dig up, I have a plan. Problem being that she's one place in the ether, and her body is in another place. If I give you a picture, do you you think you might be able to see her? It's pretty urgent. There is a deadline, I don't know how long she's been disconnected from her body and if she's disconnected much longer, she's good as dead, and a vegetable of a body somewhere. I've met her before, she's a good girl, sweet girl and I don't want to see her dead"

That Cardinal did that — Peyton frowns, looking down at her coffee, scowling for a moment. "Perhaps you mistook him for someone else," she suggests. "One FRONTLINE goon looks like another, right? I mean, in their armor and all. Outside of it, they're all lovely people, I'm sure."

The worry for Delia seems sincere, and she sighs and shakes her head. "I can't go off of pictures, Doc. I'm not that powerful." That much is true.

And even if I knew her," — that much a misdirect — "the best that'd happen is that I'd see what her eyes are seeing, not what her mind is seeing. I don't see what people see in their sleep or in Refrain trances or anything like that. It's not how I work."

She lifts the cup to her lips and takes a slow swallow, brows furrowing together before she tilts her head. "You know more about how my power works than most people, Doc. More than anyone at the Registry for sure. I'm not really keen on people at the Institute knowing what I can do."

"We spoke after the eight, about when we met up on the eighth" To clarify. "We have an understanding but I see he hasn't conversed with the rest of his group" Which is fine enough. Brennan digs out a matte picture, sliding it across to the clairvoyant. "I don't know much more about it than you do Peyton. It's your ability. I just known about general clairvoyance, same as I know a little enough about Delia's ability to know that she's in trouble." He gestures to the picture of the young woman, from some sort of official document.

"I never said your name when I was sussing out. They just reeled off a bunch of abilities that might help to locate individuals who might be disconnected from their bodies. I have another onieromancer, who's looking for her in the ether. I'm going to visit a telepath that I've been given the name of, who can help to tag her by the toe if we find her, and pour her back into her body. Then, I am going to sit the girl down and give her a stern talking to and make sure that she knows how close she has come to dying from her little…. experimentation." He thinks it's experimentation.

"I can't do any of this, without her body. I'll just have to see if I can't find another way to find her body" Which he has, in Dema and Jet, if Dema can contact this woman. But it would have been easier this way. "If you come across anyone with information on her, send them to my home, or to my medical clinic."

Her eyes drop, long lashes veiling them for a moment as she examines her half-empty coffee cup. She finally looks up and nods. "I'd help if I could — if she's in danger. You know I would, but I don't know her and I can't find someone from a photograph — I've tried before, and I can't. I need to know the person, and even if I did — I would just see darkness if her eyes aren't open. And if she's just sleeping, then I doubt they're open, right?"

She exhales, tension evident in her posture; dark circles mar the areas beneath her eyes. "Sorry I can't help more. And thank you for not saying my name — I mean, I know I'm registered as a clairvoyant, but… you know. I don't want to be on the Institute's rolls — no offense."

Her eyes finally meet his, full of uncertainty and apology at once. If he's not totally on board, they're on the same side. But he could just be saying that.

"Don't worry, if you say you can't do it, I believe you Peyton. You already said as much. They may or may not be open, sometimes individuals in the types of coma that one might consider vegetative can sometimes open. More often than not, they're closed though" He doesn't take the picture back, leaving it with her. "You don't want to be on the institutes christmas wish list. I don't know what they do up in Cambridge Peyton. I just know what they do at the Suresh Center and what's done there is on the legitimate side of things"

Brennan picks up his cup to take a sip from it, at least get his two bucks worth before he'll have to go. "I need you to pass a message to Cardinal as well, since you're more apt to see him sooner than I will. The agents are going to come sniffing around him. He's one of the suspects for the murder of Kain Zarek. They don't know he has the horizon armor and I'm not about to tell him that he has one. Far as they're concerned, and to their knowledge, all suits have been accounted for. I think they think I'm remembering things incorrectly"

Brennan lifts his shoulders in slight shrug. "Tell him to tread lightly. Linderman Group is out for blood and they've got an agent named Goodman at the help while Harper is down and out"

"I know what they did in Staten," Peyton says softly, as she reaches into her purse to pull out some bills to cover their coffee, counting them out a little more carefully to hide her face at the news that Cardinal is wanting. "Thanks for the warning for Card. I'll pass it on," she says lightly, as if he hadn't just told him her business partner and hero is wanted for a murder — what's more, one that she knows he committed.

She looks up at him with raised brows, as if to ask, 'is that it?'

"Nope. That's all. If you see her, hear of her, just… you know" Leave a message at the Medical Group or at his home with his wife. "I got it, don't worry" Pushing her money back. "If we happen to have coffee again another time, you can pay Peyton. Call if you have questions" He doesn't expect that she'll call though. He too is getting up, easing out of the booth.

"Have a good Christmas if I don't see you before then," she murmurs, not expecting to of course. With that, Peyton is heading out the door, her cell phone pulled out as soon as she out the door, sunglasses out to shove over her eyes, despite the gray, gloomy day.

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