brian_icon.gif samara_icon.gif

Scene Title GusGus
Synopsis Turns out a ghost girl may not be dead…
Date November 14, 2010

Pollepel Island

The sun has finally set.

And with the sun finally having gone down, Brian can move through the forests of Pollepel freely. Having tied up two of his copies with helping Delia in the infirmary has sapped his energy somewhat, but he still has enough life in him to do a little ghost hunting. Stalking the forests of the island, Brian has his Disney Princess Mirror handy. A small little flashlight is held in his free hand. As he stalks walking paths and maneuvers through the trees, Brian looks this way and that.

And then he realizes he probably won't be able to see her.

He was able to last night, but maybe that wore off or something. So he glances into his mirror again, he felt bad about last night and was hoping she wouldn't have drifted very ffar. Mabe just in the water or something and she was able to crawl back to the island. Walking the island, Brian every now and then calls out gently. "Sam-eye?"

Waking up on a random pier would be frightening enough to most people, for Samara it was doubly so. She definitely didn't fall asleep here, she actually has no idea where she was, and the nightmare she'd had left her more than a little unsettled.

After wandering quite aimlessly for a short while, in the forested area nearby, Sami had chosen to sit and reflect on the weirdness of her dream, and the oddity of the colours within. Beyond that, she'd been walking in circles for hours. For a girl who literally had to constantly find her way home, her sense of direction has been more than lacking. The sound of her name, however, causes the spectre to stir.

Her hazel eyes scan the forested area before falling on the man with the mirror. Her lips quirk into a soft smile as she floats over to him. Oddly, even for her she reaches out to squeeze his shoulder, an action entirely in vain as it moves through him.

When she first comes to him, he has lowered the mirror for a moment, glancing this way then that. Finally he brings the mirror back up to glance in it. His breath catches at the sudden existence of another in the mirror, even though he should be used to that by now. Looking down at the hand on his shoulder, he smirks a little and arches his brow. "Hi." He offers, a little excitedly.

"Listen, when you passed out last night. You were visible. Like not totally tangible, but you could be seen. I could see you without the reflection." He quickly explains, looking rather enthusiastic. "So.. So it worked a little. Right? Dead people don't become part-dead!" Brian informs with much exuberance. "And you were like glowing! If I could give you a hug without looking really vain and or crazy, I would!"

Brian's reaction makes Samara jump a little in turn followed by an apologetic shrug. It's what she can offer in apology. She manages to sign, S-R-Y. It's not quite right, and missing all of the vowels. She doesn't try to correct it, he gets the idea, she thinks.

His excitement, however, earns a distinct furrowing of her eyebrows as she gapes back at him rather than the mirror image. With a small frown, she raises a palm to her forehead, applying even pressure. It was the first dream she'd had in ages that she could remember. And then finally she mouths the words, very clearly, 'I'm not dead?' It's a question, not that anyone can tell aside from the perplexion of her expression.

"You're fine." He smiles to her apology. "Don't worry about it." When she doesn't look excited in the mirror to match his exuberance. And when she mouths, he stares into the mirror for a long moment. "Sami! That's an amazing novel thought. I wish I would have thought of that three weeks ago." He looks like he's in genuine awe of her profound thought.

His ffeatures then mold into a more sympathetic look. "I really don't think you are, Sami. We just have to figure out how to get you.. un-stuck."

Samara's lips curl upwards slightly into a tight-ish smile as her eyes roll slightly. He never believed she was a ghost and she knows it, but then she'd lived four years without questioning her own death. She'd lived four years convinced she had literally died. Her cheeks flush slightly as she tugs on the bottom of her shirt and then combing her fingers through her hair into a ponytail with the elastic permanently kept around her wrist. It's kind of fortunate actually that she always has it.

She sighs heavily while absently chewing on her lip, maybe she should be happy, but the time she's wasted… it's unsettling. She shoots him a small smile, she points to him, then she points to her eyes and then to herself, again still not quite believing, but she's closer.

Her shoulders shrug as she mouths another word, 'How?'

"Ah, that's a good question, that I have the exact answer for…"

His smile fades into nothing as he just shrugs a bit. "Yeah. I don't know. We just have to figure it out." The replicator sighs, bringing the mirror up a little bit more. To get more of her face and a different angle.

"But listen. You stick with me, I promise we'll figure this thing out, right?" He gives a little grin. "Is it kind of sad that one of my best friends right now, is someone who I can't see and I know nothing about? I don't even know your last name. And if your last name has vowels, we're in trouble." He grins lightly. "My last name is…" He gives a light shrug.

"It's debatable what my last name is I guess. I have a weird history."

Samara snickers and then shakes her head. She has few friends herself, only one of which can see her. She shrugs a little as if to say it's not big deal. Quickly she points a single finger to herself. She's been studying her sign language harder and so she manages to spell out her name. Her full name. S-A-M-A-R-A D-U-N-H-A-M She shrugs. That's her name. Plain and simple.

She tilts her head at the comment about the weird history. How is it possible he doesn't know his own name. She wrinkles her nose tightly but her smile changes into something far more curious. She shrugs her shoulders to ask the simple question why is it complicated?

With a small smile she turns to face him rather than the mirror, arching a single eyebrow (reflected in the profile of the mirror). Turning back to face it, she twirls in a tight little circle, it's something about herself, although he probably guessed that already. She likes to dance, even now that she's disembodied.


Brian smiles lightly. "Prettier than SamEye. But I think I will stick with SamEye.. and so will everyone I introduce you to." His smile practically reaches his ears at this point. At the question he grins lightly at the mirror. Well if she really wants to know.

"I grew up thinking I was Brian Fulk, I found out I was a replicator, and travelled the country preaching Jesus because I liked Jesus at the time. And I came to New York and joined a faction called PARIAH, but it turned out to be Phoenix and we found out this old guy was trying to kill all the evolved people in the world, so we fought and stopped him, but one of my copies was captured by this secret organization called the Company and they trained me to be an agent making me better at my power. They also showed me that I was adopted and that my real last name was Winters and that I had a twin sister, and they kinda brainwashed me in there. And the Brian outside of the Company? Brian Fulk? He ran the Lighthouse. He got killed by this evil mastermind, and I went AWOL from the Company because they were being evil, and so I pretended to be Brian Fulk, and everyone in the Ferrymen thinks I'm Brian Fulk."

A deep breath is taken from the rapid explanation. "I guess it wasn't that complicated.

" He grins lightly at her, arching his brows. "Crazy, right?" He holds up his mirror a little bit. "Umm.. And I was secretly engaged to a girl in the Company but she dumped me because I'm too awesome." He ends, giving a good nod. "I think that's pretty much my whole life story."

Samara's mouth gapes open a little at the story, it's more complicated than she had anticipated. Her eyes blink a little blankly as she processes it and her eyebrows are drawn together tightly again. She has a very distinct question about his ability, but no easy way to ask it, if only things were like they were in her dream with Delia. Instead of managing the question she raises a single finger to her temple and twirls it around — universal sign for crazy, not that she's calling him crazy, but the story really seems that way. She does however wince in sympathy at the fiance part and then shrugs as if to ask what happened, such things have always been a bit of an oddity to her.

She shrugs before glancing up at the skyline and then trying to offer what she can about her life. 1 B-I-G B-R-O 1 L-I-L S-I-S She hmms as she considers if there was anything noteworthy about her life… she holds out both of her hands twice, exposing the fingers as 20 digits followed by Y-E-A-R-S and then she points to herself. She'd have been twenty last month. Or she turned twenty last month?

"Yeah. I know. Crazy." As to how it happened. "She thinks she's protecting me? I don't know. She works for these shady people. And she won't quit. That's why we couldn't get married becasue she needed to keep working for these people, right? So maybe I'm better off." He gives a light shrug, before affirming himself. "Yeah. I'm better off." Or at least, he'll do his best to convince himself of that. "It's no big deal. Don't worry about it."

Watching her sign, he nods a little. "One brother. One sister. Here in New York, I'm assuming?" He points down as if to confirm. "Do.. Do you know if they're okay?" He asks, somewhat tentatively. New York City did just kind of explode, after all. A diffferent kind of way though, this time. "I'm twenty four now I think. The birthday my adoptive family gave me wasn't my real birthday. So my sister and I.. I think she knows. I forgot. She's cool, you would like her. Her name's Gillian."

Samara tilts her head skeptically at the notion of breaking up for protection. She bites her bottom lip before allowing her body to slump a little with emphatic sympathy, displayed only in her posture and facial expression. With a deep set frown, she reaches out to squeeze his shoulder, again only to fail. With sighs at her own incorporeality, it's terribly inconvenient to have corporeal friends other than Rue, yet she values them just as much.

She shakes her head and signs back, C-H-I-C-A-G-O that's where she was from; although she doesn't really know where either of her siblings are. She frowns at the mirror only to turn her gaze to the wilderness with a shrug, she doesn't know if they're okay anymore. Tahir could be anywhere now, B-R-O A-R-M-Y is her simple sign back. Adisa? Well she'd be in school or something if their parents got their way.

He smirks a little bit, bringing up his free hand to pat at her incorporeal hand on his shoulder. Dropping it, he continues to peer into the mirror with a smile. "I'm from Cali." He jets in, just so that they're even on knowledge of course. "Army? I hope he wasn't here, or was that even army I think that was—- Wait a second."

"My sister, Gillian? Her ability is to make other people good at their ability. Makes them more powerful. When she holds my hand I can make like a gajillion copies and still be fully control. I can just control my power better. Maybe she could help you control your ability too… Except." He frowns lightly. "She would have to be able to touch you. And you're not very accessible, you know?" He gives a frown as if she's not making things easier. "I wonder.." He shakes his head. "She's dated a lot of weirdos with weird powers.." Like Sylar and Peter. You know, just weirdos. "I was thinkin… Nevermind. It probably wouldn't work."

Again Sami's nose wrinkles at the comment about the army. She'd like Tahir to be fine, but he didn't even make it home for her funeral. That was a disappointment. And Adisa wore pink. Her lips purse together tightly as she watches him in the mirror.

There's a curl of a smile at the notion of more control. Her hands raise, more than anything she'd like to return to the land of the living if that's where she's meant to be. Her eyes light up as she considers Gillian and a bazillion copies. Her cheeks flush again as she tilts her head. She wants to be told this idea. 'Please,' she mouths with that same over annunciation. She wants to know, she wants some measure of hope.

"My sister… knows people who have had more than one abiility at once. I was thinking, maybe if any of them have ever had a power like yours they could like.. teach you?" He shrugs lightly. "I haven't seen her in a little bit. I think she's.." She was mixed in some kind of crazy shit. "I don't know. But I could at least ask her. There's got to be someone in this city that has a power like you do." He looks over through the forest to where the city had been burning down just a few days ago. Maybe not.

At her cheeks flushing, he grins a little bit. "I clothe them. Jesus." He says quickly. "So.. what's this unfinished business you mention? If that's what you thought you were around for. What did you think you were supposed to do?"

There's an emphatic nod of Samara's head. She would like to meet these crazy with multiple abilities if at all possible, if only for their help; after all, she's not even sure what it is that she does. The smile fades into a frown, if Brian doesn't know where Gillian is, what are the chances they'll be able to find her? Her gaze follows his to the New York skyline, complete with a heavy sigh. The world changed again. How is that even possible?

There's a sly smile at her unfinished business, there was a whole list. She shrugs before spreading her arms like she's looking at a long list of things. Her gaze turns upward as she taps on her chin, thinking over that long list of items. Everything was itemized. Remembering a few items she begins to sign S-K-Y-D-I-V-I-N-G which really couldn't have turned out as gravity doesn't enact on her the same way. B-E-F-R-I-E-N-D-I-N-G A H-O-M-E-L-E-S-S P-E-R-S-O-N. Her lips press together, D-A-N-C-E A-T J-U-L-I-A-R-D. She glances up at the sky again before fleetingly shrugging her shoulders, this one seems silly in comparison, but that's the way things are when you lose your life at sixteen, P-R-O-M, mostly bucket list things that she just wanted to do before dying. Her cheeks flush brighter as she glances at the sky again, the list is a lot longer and there's far odder, possibly more embarrassing things than she'd like to admit.

"I used to be homeless. And now I'm technically homeless." Winters offers happily. "So.. You can scratch that one off the list." He smiles. "So you got a bucket list, that's your unfinished business?" He nods softly. Grinning at the mirror. "So what? If you finish all those things on the list, what happens? You go to heaven?" He laughs a little at the last one. "Prom isn't all it's cracked up to be."

Samara gives Brian two emphatic thumb's up. One more thing she can cross off thel ist (or make Rue cross off later). There's another shrug at the notion of the bucket list. It is what it is. She died too early to experience any of these things, although she nods at the last bit and forms a ring above her head like she's some kind of angel complete with a prim and proper serene 'angelic' smile. That's what would happen if she managed to finish everything on the list, or, at least the right thing on the list, in theory, anyways. It's flawed and she knows it.

With a still dimpled smile she rolls her eyes and shakes her head. E-V-E-R-Y G-I-R-L W-A-N-T-S T-O B-E C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A. It's matter-of-fact, even if there is no tone or way to give a tone, her eyes express a seriousness. Not that the prom thing could ever happen now. What high school would even have one in a world like this? She purses her lips again.

The bucket list had more of course, some which seemed impossible. She points to herself G-R-O-W U-P. More than anything she wanted to grow up without having to watch her family deal with her death.

It takes a lot of staring into his Disney Princess mirror, but eventually he gets the message. And gives her a mouthed good job, as if impressed with her work in not making a single mistake. "Every girl wants to.." He jumps to the side. "Scrub the counter do the dishes, they always keep her runnin~ Cinderelli cinderelli~" This of course is done in a high pitch mouse voice. Stopping to laugh a little he has to confess that, "My favorite was Gus-Gus."

Going to take a seat on a nearby rock, he motions to the nothingness for her to join him. "Everyone needs to work on their bucket list. Dead or not. So we'll get you a giant pumpkin, some mouse horses, and glass tennnees." Flashing her a Charming smile. (get it, prince charming) "I want to swim slash ride a dolphin, that's on my bucket list. And own an elephant, start a company, decide it has become The Man and single handedly fight against the machine and stick it to myself."

To the last bit he gives her a sad smile. Looking down for a moment his brain practically convulses for something to change the subject with. "Favorite color." He throws up a hand as if to stop her. "Don't sign it, find something that color and show me. If it's green I will be pissed." He murmurs, motioning to the forest.

The little bit of praise at her improving sign language (thanks to practice practice practice when no one is looking) draws a sparkle to Sami's eyes as a satisfied smile spreads across her lips. She sits askance to him on the rock, focusing to perch upon the stone surface. An eyebrow is arched at the song followed by a muted snicker at the notion of Gus-Gus. That world feels a million miles from here, but there's something important about remembering it. She liked, and she mouths his name, 'Jacques'. The red hatted one was like the leader of the pack.

Her lips twitch to the side as she glances down at her feet, trying to envision them in glass slippers. She clicks her heels together and tightly shuts her eyes. Yes, it's the wrong story, but there's something awesome about shoes being the centre of any story— that's likely where The Wizard of Oz and Cinderella intersect.

Her eyes narrow as they scan the area. The sky is grey, the forest is green, but then… ah-ha! Eureka! She's found it! Her eyes light up as she points to the blue of her blue jeans. Her favourite colour. Even if it's the wrong shade.

Her nose wrinkles as she shrugs; it's a conventional favourite colour. She points at him and shrugs? What's his favourite colour. Skeptically she glances at the forest. It better not be green after his thoughts on it…

Adjusting the angle of the D.P.M so that he can see what she points at he grins a little bit. Sticking his own finger out he pokes at her incorporeal leg as well. "Me too." When she snickers, however inaudibly, at Gus-Gus he grins. "Happpyy biiirthday." He says, in his best Gus-Gus voice. "I met a guy named Gus once. He was British. I called him GusGus. And he never knew that the whole time I was pretending he was a fat mouse."

Watching her gaze go down, he tilts the mirror to watch her feet sadly click together. How heartbreaking. Pulling his lips down he quickly smooths it over into a smile. "Don't worry Dorothy, we'll get you home." He tilts his head down, "Favorite game when you were a kid?"

Samara grins at the blue and all out laughs at the notion of imagining someone as a chubby mouse. Her lips press together and she lets them curl into a small, yet present, dimpled grin, but even in the smile there's just that hint of sadness; regret at lost time, even though she's made the most of it… as the deceased. It's unsettling in a way, easier to believe that life just stopped that day because in a lot of ways it did.

Her gaze moves towards the forest as she tries to choose her favourite. 'Houdini,' she mouths. It's unique enough. She liked getting out of tight spaces — made her feel powerful and increased her flexibility in dance. 'You?' she asks in that same silent way. And then as an aside she overannunciates, 'I hated charades.'

"Fucking charades.." Brian groans as if pained. "I had this group of deaf friends once. This is why I learned some sign language, but before that talking to them was like constantly playing charades. So I got tired of it." His brows jump up as if he just realized something. "That's why you suck at communicating! Aha! I've discovered it." He waves a dissapointed finger at her reflection. "You should have practiced more charades so you could talk to more people after you died Sami. What were you thinking? And.. what the hell is Houdini? Teach me."

"My favorite game. Probably some good old fashioned tag. Or freeze tag. Or capture the flag. Anything that rhymed with.. fag. I was a very joyous boy." He smiles brightly. Shoving his way off the rock, the DPM is held out a little ways so that he can see more of her than just her face. "Okay. Start Houdini-ing."

If only she had known she'd be literally speechless how many years later, maybe Sami would've worked harder at developing some mad charade skillz. But alas, she never could've predicted her non-death and non-talking, especially as a little chatterbox back in the day; any activity where she had to stay silent was a pain. Tag, however, earns a smile. That was second on her list. After this one.

Her lips purse to one side as she looks around for something to get out of or into, but no dice. She winces a little, irony of all ironies, she has outmastered any Houdini skills she'd developed as a child.

And so her cheeks flush a pale pink, she'll have to explain it rather than show. Lack of boxes to pretend to get locked in doesn't exactly elicit any easy ways to Houdini herself out of them. F-R-I-E-N-D L-O-C-K-S Y-O-U U-P she begins Y-O-U G-E-T O-U-T. Her cheeks flush a brighter red S-W-E-A-R I-T F-U-N

"That sounds a little dark, SamEye. What else were you and your 'friends' into?" He grins broadly, glancing in the DPM. "Alright I'm kidding. Sounds like a whole lot of fun. But you ruined my plan. I was going to have you tell me your favorite game, and then I was going to force you to play it to take you back to a more innocent time of your life where you could be happy and not think about being dead." He explains rather quickly and bluntly. "But you cannot be locked up. And.. well I guess I could technically lock myself up.. or" Giving one last look into the mirror, his hand swings out at where she should be and

"You're it."

And whoosh, he's off. Running down a path of his own devising, he calls back over his shoulder. "You know what's great about this game, as long as I don't look in the mirror, I win forever!"

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