He's Alive


abby_icon.gif leonard_icon.gif peyton_icon.gif

Scene Title He's Alive
Synopsis Peyton goes to the Suresh Center for some guidance, but instead finds a picnic with Leonard and Abby and offers them some insight into Felix's current status.
Date September 1, 2009

The Suresh Center

The lobby of the Suresh Center is an open, very well-lit space; the exterior walls are more window than wall. There's a raised half-level on the right side of the irregularly-shaped room as one walks in, carpeted in pine-green, decked with oak furniture and small table lamps; a comfortable-looking space, with actual living plants at the top of the stairs and scattered here and there elsewise. Continuing to the left brings one to the receptionist's desk, a small vending area located just beyond that.

Passing the receptionist brings a visitor to the core of the building. Here are the Kastin and Chapman auditoria, named for donors who provided the money that built them; rooms designed to seat many people for lectures and presentations, equipped with large projector screens, pervasive sound systems, and video recorders. Four conference rooms fill out the central section, reduced in scale but no less comprehensively outfitted. The wings which branch off to either side contain rows of classrooms: smaller, more private and personal, some with installed technology and some with nothing more elaborate than a whiteboard.

The classrooms, conference rooms, and auditoria are all available for public use; anyone who wants to reserve one may do so for a nominal fee, be it to teach a class, hold a meeting, or present a seminar. There are no restrictions on subject, nor even the credentials of the instructor or lecturer, though the Center waives all liability for courses taught by a third party (which is all of them). These courses and seminars are all by definition open to the public. Donations may be requested, or small fees charged, particularly for courses with a materials cost.

Peyton stands indecisively outside the Suresh Center, peering at it from behind the dark lenses of large sunglasses, the over-sized kind that seems to take up half of her fine-boned face. The diva style glasses contrast with the casual clothes: a baseball cap, her long brunette hair pulled through the loop in the back, along with a t-shirt and jeans. She looks like a typical college student, rather than a socialite found in exclusive clubs and at red-carpet premieres.

Taking a deep breath, she heads to the door, entering the lobby, and looking around. She's not sure what she's here for, or if what she's seeking can even be found.

And then there's Leo. So far off the other end of the social spectrum he's arguably out into the infrared. He's attired in a security guard's uniform, crisp and new, and his expression is open and pleasant, as he approaches her. "Can I help you, ma'am?" he asks, politely.

The brunette bites her lower lip, reaching up to take off the sunglasses. She smiles at Leonard. "I don't know, to be honest," she says, a little shyly, her voice hushed as if the place were a library or museum. "A friend of mine, she comes here sometimes, says there's things to help Evolved people learn to use their powers better." Her voice lilts, making it a kind of question.
"Yes," he says, gently. "That's quite definitely one of the purposes of the Center. Among others." He hovers a little distance from her.

She nods and reaches up to adjust her ballcap, clearly not used to wearing such an accessory. "I know how to use it a little but I get headaches and can't do it very well yet. But … the government can't find out what people here talk about, can they? I mean, I'm registered, of course." Of course! "But I don't want them to know details." She frowns a little, peering at his uniform, making sure he's not a police officer apparently. "I don't want to work for Frontline or anything."

Leonard looks down at his uniform, expression wry. "I'm not NYPD, or anything like," he reassures her. "Just private security. No. We are confidential, we don't report private information to the government in any way." And he cracks a rather crooked, shy smile. "No, you won't end up in FRONTLINE, I promise."

"So… what do I do? If I want help… learning to use my ability?" Peyton asks, eyes going from his uniform to his eyes. "And how do you make sure that people that are like, not Evolved, don't come in and take information from people like me? I mean, couldn't one of those HF people come in and pretend to be someone with a power?" It's a legitimate question. She bites her lower lip nervously, just thinking about the possibility. She glances toward the door. Maybe this isn't a good idea.

"Well, generally one of the requirements to be trained in a power isthat you demonstrate it, unless it's something horrifically dangerous to yourself or others. But we can't filter by intent. We don't have telepaths who scan your brain. So arguably yes, general information is open to abuse. The private stuff, no. No more so than any other medical facility," Leo explains, patiently. His eyes are very dark, almost black, but he's trying hard to be friendly.

Peyton furrows her brow and nods. There's a glance at the door again. Wendy may have recommended this place, even volunteer here, but then Wendy said there was nothing to worry about being Evolved either. "Do you have to have a power to work here at all?" she asks. "You know what, never mind, that was a rude question. I'm sorry. And obviously I'm too paranoid to be here. I should go." She laughs nervously, her cheeks coloring at her uncertainty.

Yeah. Leo has some horror stories on that front. "No, you don't have to be Evolved to work here," he says, still proffering that little smile like a peace offering. Look, totally harmless. "And it's a legitimate question, really. No offense taken."

Incoming familiar blonde for one person, stranger to the other. flip flops, maxi dress that he saw her leave the house in this morning when she came home. Her hours have varied and likely will keep varying till she starts up school again. For now though, she promised she'd pick up lunch and bring it for him. Hot lunch as opposed to bag lunch and abby's company as opposed to other company.

That too and Abby had promised she'd go take a look at the Center to cat, and well, while she still didn't feel right to even look into the place, Leo was here and that was reason enough. But he's taking care of someone so when she comes through the door, off to the side with the covered basket she stands.

Side effect of getting kidnapped — one notices their surroundings. Peyton sees the blonde enter and notices she's obviously waiting for Peyton to wrap up the conversation. "Your girlfriend's here and going to get mad at me for talking to you, huh?" Peyton whispers. Before Leo can respond, she nods. "Thanks for the information. I… I'm just going to go." She turns around, baseball cap on but sunglasses off, so Abby can catch a glimpse of her face before she puts the glasses back on and starts for the door.

God. Like Little Red Riding Hood. Surely that doesn't make Leo a very amiable Big Bad Wolf? He looks a little startled by her abruptness. "No, that's just a friend kind enough to bring me a hot lunch," he corrects, patiently. He cocks his eyes as he goes.

That face is familiar, somehow. Not Abby's, but Peyton's. He pursues slowly, really heading for Abby as well. "Do come back, we're always happy to help."

'Gosh, heavens no, not his girlfriend. That'd be like.. wrong" Abigail proffers up, offering her hand out to Peyton baseball cap and all "Abigail, Abigail Beauchamp. He's just my roommate and I promised i'd feed him and all. you sure look like you could do with some feeding to if you ask me" Nope, she wasn't asked, but Abigail's gonna say it. "Leo, when's your break? If its in a little bit, I can go wait outside while you sign out" There's a gesture with the load bearing hand to outside before she glances back over to peyton. "Good to see that you're well out of the hands of the jerks"

Peyton is halfway to the door when Abby's offering the hand. Peyton frowns a little — sure, she's used to being talked to by strangers, but usually it's to buy a drink or ask for a dance or the like. Not to shake her hand. She takes it and shakes lightly. "Thanks. And I didn't mean to offend you or anything. He's a good looking guy. You're a pretty girl. Unless you're siblings, what's wrong with that?" she says with a slightly-less-shy smile.

Oh, that's why he knows that face. Seen sobbing and making anti-Evolved declarations on a videotape. Leo's face is abruptly a study in consternation, and he looks desperately to Abby as if she might salvage this situation. "Just….just now," he stammers, and turns hastily back to scratch his name on the signout book. "She's a good friend, but she's got someone else, and I'm working on it," Leo explains. Sort of.

Ooh wrong on that someone else, but then in leo's defense, she hadn't told him yet and he hadn't seen the containers of fudge ripple that made their home just this morning while he was at work, in their freezer. "The only thing stopping him from being a brother is DNA. Otherwise, that's pretty much how he is" But Leo's running off to sign out and she offers her arm to Peyton in true southern genteel fashion. "If it's any consolation, I've been right where you were not long ago. Only, I didn't quite get the chance to make the youtube video of the year like you did. Come, I got extra food, and I even picked up a pie and you could use some sun. Unless pale is the look you're going for?"

The recent kidnap victim blinks as Abby tucks her arm in hers and lets Abby lead her toward the door. "Wait. You said your name is Abigail? And you've been kidnapped?" she repeats. "You don't know some kid who works for a pizza place do you?" Small world, if so. But how many women named Abigail could have been kidnapped in New York in recent times?
Leonard returns swiftly enough. His posture's better, now that he's in uniform again, even if it is a rent-a-cop's, rather than Army or NYPD. "What sort of pie?" he asks, eagerly, expression brightening a little.

"Take whatever Magnes says, with a grain of salt" Are the very first words out of Abby's mouth when she's asking if she knows a pizza boy. "what kind of pie is your favourite" She calls over her shoulder. "And that's the pie. It's still warm. It's not Mrs. Hadley's pie, but, it's good pie" Past a green scooter they go where Abby liberate a red blanket that had been draped and waiting, tossed to Leonard.

"He gave me some free pizza card or something. Because he felt bad about what happened to me," Peyton says with a chuckle. "I didn't let him in — it was too soon after and he came to my apartment." She frowns a little at the picnic set up. "Look, I feel like I'm imposing. I really appreciate the offer, but…" She frowns, looking at the building in front of them and then over her shoulder at the street. "I don't want to eat your food or ruin your break." She turns to Leonard. "You don't want to spend your break talking to the … customers? patients?" she gestures with a hand to fill in the blank.

The Georgian's expression is grave. "You are more than either," he points out, very quietly. "I, too, have been in a similar situation," he adds, even though he flashes Abby a quick, bright smile. "Key lime?" he says, with pleased incredulity.
"Keeey lime and it's called southern hospitality Ms. Whitney. It's how leonard endured when I first met him and you shall endure. If it was an imposition, there wouldn't be enough food here to feed an army and I could surely use the company. So, you can stay, or you can leave. I'll be mournful if you leave but I'm sure that I could carry on" She offers up a smile to peyton, even as the blanket is tossed to Leo to spread out.

"I wouldn't want anyone to be mournful," Peyton says with a laugh and a shake of her head. "If you're sure there's enough and that I'm not a downer on your break," she says, a nod first to Abby then to Leonard. "You're both from the South?" She reaches for one end of the blanket to help lie it onto the grass outside of the center. She turns toward the street and makes a face. "The protestors don't come every day anymore?" She saw the news of the opening. "I … you know. Sitting outside if HF people come to throw stones doesn't sound fun."

"Georgia," Leo affirms, easily, with a disingenuous smile. "Seriously. She cooks and feeds me like she's trying to fatten me for the slaughter." The blanket hovers down, perfectly flat, quite obviously assissted by the not quite natural.

"Louisiana. I don't much know about the Protestors, but I didn't really see any today when I came in, if there are, we can go in and find a room, Leo will deal with them" She draws peytons attention to the blanket that is magically settling itself out perfectly before she steps onto it to start popping out the food and plates, plastic cutlery and a few different soda's.

"I've never been to the south," Peyton says, kneeling on the blanket, settling back onto her heels, her feed clad in Converse. "So you do anything besides make key lime pies and plan picnics for a living? she asks Abby with a smile. She herself doesn't work, but assumes most people do.

Some bizarre cherry soda called Cheerwine. Presumably for Leos, since that is what he grabs. He's too busy eating to volunteer much, at least at first.

"I own a bar called Old Lucy's." She knows, she knows what happened at her own bar and she regrets saying it the moment she does. Smooth move Abby. "I'm goign through school to be an EMT as well. Listen, i'm sorry, that it happened at my Bar. If there's anything I can do to like, apologize or thelike, you'll let me know?"

The name of the bar does get a little bit of a flinch from Peyton, but her eyes drop to her plate as she shakes her head. "It's not your fault, Abigail. It could have been anywhere. It was just bad luck. I'm sorry it happened there, too. I'm sure it's probably not what you want for business right?" She smiles weakly. "But it's not your fault. And it's my fault, anyway. That guy who was there, he offered to come with us in the cab, the FBI agent. And I told him no. Stupid, huh?" Peyton offers another smile, then drops her eyes to her plate again.

Leo's somber, putting down his red and white can, listening. He doesn't comment, but picks around for potato chips.

"Felix. He's missing" There's a glance to Leonard. "He's a good friend. I'm worried about him, and.. I am sad, and maybe a bit happy to say that your being pilfered from there actually increased business. Everyone wanted to see where you got snatched. It's gone back down to normal though" Abby plucks at chips too, eating them bit by bit, offering the bag to Peyton. "What brought you here?"

"He's missing?" Peyton says, looking alarmed. "Another kidnapping? I tried to help on some other woman's last week." She is pale, setting down her plate. "I can try to help, since I've met him. I can see if I can see what he can, if I can see where he's at… " she suggests. Her brow is knit and she looks nervous about trying to help — she didn't see much of use with Elisabeth, just darkness, but she hadn't really known Elisabeth. She glances back at the building. "I came to see if they could help me learn more about my power, how to keep from getting headaches, that kind of thing."

Leonard finally pipes up with, "Yes. That we can," And then he asks, bluntly, "What is your power?"

Abigail glances to Leonard, then once more to Peyton. "I can.. bring you to some officers who could use your help, if you've met Felix… though what ca.." Leonards asking, his usual blunt way. "Headaches. Your ability is new? If it's new, it's just, usually, i've found, from learning, from the stress on your body. They'll go away with time. I'm sure they can help you here, give you some drugs to help with them"

"I can see through other people's eyes, I guess," Peyton murmurs, the uncertainty of someone new to their power. "But I think only if I know them." She looks at Abigail with wide eyes. "I don't want the police to know what I can do, not the details. I'm registered, but … they think I just get scattered visions I don't understand. I don't want them to know and have them use me for some sort of job I don't want to do…" She's on her way to being paranoid schizophrenic, this one. "But I can try… You can tell them what I see. Last time I wasn't any help, though… That woman, the blonde cop, she was blindfolded or in the dark or something so I couldn't help."

The pupils of Peyton's dark eyes widen, until there is only a slim ring of brown surrounding them, as she stares unseeing past Abby and Leonard's face.

"That's ….really kinda creepy," Leo asides to Abby, in a rather abashed whisper.

Abigail looks over at Leo at the creepy comment. "Seriously? Creepy? That? Leonard, you weren't on the bridge watching a guy turn to dust just from your touch" Abigail murmurs into Leo's ears, too low for Peyton to hear. But, the woman is going to do her thing. "Sure" talking proper now. "I can take it to the detectives I know. They'll know who to get it to that's taking care of Ivanov's case" and she falls silent, a soft prayer leaving her lips and the cold cross clutched, hoping that Peyton gets.. something?

The clairvoyant's brows furrow and she gasps a little. Despite the lack of focus, a tear slips from her eyes, running down her cheek. "He's hurt, really bad… bandages at least, but on his chest, his legs, his ankles. The room is just concrete. Floor and walls. There's pipes, like it might be in the basement of a building, something. He's alone. Just in his boxers. He looks bad." She frowns again and shakes her head, more tears spilling onto her pale cheeks. Her pupils shrink once more in her teary eyes, and she looks stricken at the two. "I'm no help. Nothing's specific enough to help, is it?" she whispers. "I'm sorry."

Leonard's expression slowly falls, and he looks to Abby. "Man's a prick," he says, bluntly. "But I wouldn't wish Humanis First on anyone." He dares put a hand on Peyton's shoulder, pats it rather hesitantly.

"You're kidding right? Peyton, you've told us he's alive which was something we didn't know before" Abigail points out. "Badly hurt but.. that's gonna be nothing. But it tells us that there's IS a set timeframe. Peyton that's more information than we had before" Though she's estatic, glad that Felix is alive, the news is still sobering one and ABigail's looking to Leonard while digging for a hanky to pass to peyton. It even have AB embroidered on it.

Peyton laughs at the actual handkerchief; she's never seen anyone who's carried one before! "Well, I guess it's something." She winces at the headache that ensues. "W-Who should I tell? You know who to contact? Is this is the same people who kidnapped me and that blonde cop?" she asks.

"Yes," Leo says, unhesitating. "Absolutely the same. But we've got friends on the force, and they'll listen to whatever we can give them. Thank you….thank you for trying."

Abby's not going to name names. "A lot of cops come to the bar, I got a few I can pass this onto, and i'll keep your name out of it. Please, eat, heavens, eat and… " Hands dip into her purse again, coming up with both advil and excedrin "Here. I keep both on me now. Can't.. fix my own headaches anymore" They're proffered over with a heat to her cheeks.

Taking the Advil, Peyton shakes some out into her hand, chasing the pills down with a swallow of soda. She takes a deep breath, and picks up her fork to continue to eat. "Thank you," she murmurs, and it's not just for the Advil. "You could fix your headaches? Is that your power?" she asks, shaking her head in confusion. "But you can't now?"

"Time was, she could heal," Leo clarifies, in his usual laconic way. "Not Evolved, though. Something different. Hand of God, I don't know," He's ….apparently entirely serious, really. AT least, there is not even a flicker of sarcasm or disbelief. And this from a man who's pretty much an avowed atheist.

"What he said" She's not clarifying. "I have a date with homeland next week, to go let them test me, poke me, prod me and otherwise inquire as to why i'm asking ot un-register" She looks over at Leonard as this was something new. "Figure I'll see who wants to come with me, so you know, after they're done playing vampire, I can send them to fetch me juice and cookies"

"Huh," is all Peyton has to say about this. "What about you? What do you do?" she asks, since he asked about her power. "And what's creepy about my power?" she says, in afterthought. She obviously hasn't seen herself in the throes of her power.

The blackhaired boy looks genuinely contrite. "I'm sorry. I….I was rude. It just…it must be unnerving, to see through someone else's eyes like that. I'm glad you can control it," He shifts on the blanket, uneasy. "I'll take you, Abby, if I got that day off. I think I do." For an answer to her question - he extends a hand. The bottle smacks into his palm as if he were a lodestone and it an iron filing.

"Telekenesis. Comes in handy when you're moving for the umpteenth time and you don't have extra hands to help you move the heavy stuff" Her mind is still on Felix and the inevitable phone calls she'll make when she's finished the lunch. "Or when you really want a can of coke from the fridge"

"I'm getting used to it…" Peyton murmurs. "I … hope I won't only use it to help find kidnap victims. Or kidnap suspects. A lot of things I'd rather see instead." She sets down an empty plate. Apparently she was hungrier than she thought. She chuckles at Abby. "The really important stuff, right?" she says with a grin. "I think… I should probably go make a phone call to someone else who may want to know about this. Thanks for the lunch. Um. Hold on." She reaches in her purse, pulling out a little address book. She scribbles a number on one page, then tears it out and offers it to Abby. "If you need me," she adds. "I'll keep trying to find your friend. He was good to me, when we got out of… when we got to the police station." Her eyes tear up again. How is it she was so lucky to escape relatively unscathed, while he looks ready to die? "I'll keep trying," she assures them again.

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