I Accidentally The Elevator


delilah_icon.gif gillian2_icon.gif

Scene Title I Accidentally The Elevator
Synopsis The littlest power mimic leaves a dysfunctional elevator with a new ability in her arsenal.
Date May 19 2009

Village Renaissance Building

The address is accurate. Gillian doesn't forget such details anymore. 14 East 4th Street in Greenwich Village. Even looks like a place she'd expect for the lawyer-musician-everywoman to have as a place. Considering how rich she is. Like many of the Phoenix safehouses, she's never actually been here, yet she knows it's supposed to be here.

The sun's still up, with plenty of time to get in, talk for an hour, and make it back to Queens before the curfew makes travel a little less safe, but that doesn't mean she knows exactly how she's supposed to get in. A mild glance to the phone she has, she considers trying to call and make sure, but stubbornly walks right up to the elevator instead. And stands there, unable to push any of the buttons. There's something she's missing, and she chews on her lower lip as she tries to figure it out.

"Oh! Oh! Wait for me-" The voice chirps up somewhere behind Gillian as she stands there, and is followed by the clomp-clomp-clomp of hurried shoes. Delilah, coming from the direction of the mailboxes, with a few envelopes in her hand. When she stops beside Gillian with a swish of patterned dress, it takes her a moment to realize that the dark-haired woman hasn't actually pressed the up button yet, so Dee just blinks quietly before leaning over and punching it in. Right. Nevermind!

"Hi," Gillian says in surprise, glancing over at the girl with the big head of red hair that hurries up. The lack of good make up shows her current state of distraught, though someone who doesn't know her likely wouldn't notice. The up button is pushed and she toys idly with her bangs for a minute before asking, "You wouldn't happen to know what floor I could find Cat Chesterfield, do you?" Course the reception desk could probably answer that question just as well, but hey, she's not totally together right now. Her world is in a constant state of flux. And so is her DNA.

Long black hair hangs loosely around her face, bangs cut so that they still fall into her brown eyes. Tinges of green show up in the light, but otherwise her eyes are pretty dark. Heavy black eyeliner is common around her eyes, thick lashes. Often her lips are fairly red, and her skin in general is pretty pale. A beautymark on her cheek occassionally stands out in the paleness on her face. She's rather pretty, if someone likes a quiet goth, and often wears black. A tribal tattoo with a rose is visible on her right wrist (inside) and she sports others in more covered areas.

Just before the ding of the doors, Gillian asks her question and Delilah glances beside her, trying to take stock of the other girl's state without seeming too obvious. "Oh. Um. Yes. She lives on the top floor, in the penthouse. Usually she rings people in up there, I would suppose…" The redhead sidles into the elevator, pausing to invite Gillian in with a look and her own moving aside to make sure she knows it is okay to share the ride. "Is there a specific reason you're looking for her…?"

A glance back to the lobby desk, Gillian shakes her head after a moment and steps inside instead. The logical way to deal with this would be to take the question to the staff, but instead she chooses to move to the corner of the elevator and look at the buttons. The penthouse is always on the top, as far as she knows, so she looks for the highest most button. "I wanted to talk to her about something important. It has to do with my— my family. You know her very well?"

Delilah doesn't press a second button, oddly enough. "I think so. We're friendly, at least." And that whole Ferrymen thing on the fourth floor, of course. "She trusts me, I think." She smooths the front of her dress now; a white sundress, covered in yellow, orange, and red patterns of stylized flowers. The yellow bolero around her shoulders is adjusted in mild discomfort- but only stemming from the conversation, not the actual clothing. It is hard to tell the difference. "If she's not in, I could always tell her you came by?"

"Yeah, that'd be good," Gillian says quietly, trying to think of the best thing she could say to give the woman an idea why she would be dropping by. There's a ton of reasons for stopping by. Everything from the situation with her family, to the time travelers, to just plan needing help with everything. It's the thought about the time travelers that triggers something inside of her. A mild frustration, like a surge of energy that has to go somewhere. There's a few moments of silence from her as the elevator starts moving upwards, doors closed. Before it reaches the second floor, though, a low groan can be heard from the dark haired girl that leans back against the edge of the elevator, and a web of blue electricity suddenly ejects from her body. For the split second it can be seen, it looks oddly like a person. On the cameras, it might just look like a sudden flash of light. That hits the control panel with fingers before pulling back inside her.

The elevator's lights go out. The numbers on the pad dies. It stops moving upwards, and slips down once, before the emergency breaks catch it.

Yeah, these powers suck sometimes.

Talking, standing, FLASH OF ELECTRICITY. Delilah was not ready for that, by any stretch of the imagination. The redhead lets out a surprised yelp of noise, flattening back-first against the wall of the elevator, feet finding a brace on the floor as the elevator sputters and dies, jolts down(another strangled yelp), and then finally meets with the emergency brakes. Still flat against the wall, Delilah stares across the box at Gillian, eyebrows meeting in her forehead. She waits a moment before doing much of anything except keeping herself planted in case the brakes decide to not work. Not that it would really help, in the end, but it makes her feel better.

"Oh." Oh…? The word is said as if she had suddenly dawned on something- a word that is simple, yet comes out completely understanding of Gillian's apparent need to see Cat.

There are times when Gillian thinks she should just seriously avoid people all together. Every day there seems to be at least one incident. Usually around a stranger. As she leans heavily against her corner, a hand raises to touch her forehead, even if she feels better, is breathing easier, but she glances over cautiously. A kid who knows Cat, who Cat supposedly trusts, isn't about to run off to HomeSec… is she? "I didn't— at least we're okay," she says with a grimace, looking at the electrical panel. It doesn't look burnt, just… not on. "I— uh— this one of the things I needed to talk to Cat about…" There's a grimace. She's really starting to hate the lot that she's been given. First she makes other people reveal their powers in crazy ways, now she reveals her own…

Delilah stays in her spot, watching Gillian and hoping that the girl stays in her own spot as well. Lilah isn't immediately keen on getting closer, and so inside, the redhead is on the edge of her seat. "Yeah. I guessed as much." It's a simple sentence, yet loaded with quite a lot. "I know how it is. Well… not quite like that." She laughs, a bit of a snort in her voice.

Moving away from the corner, Gillian makes no move to try and get closer to the red head, and instead tries to punch buttons to no avail. Likely security is already on the way, but that doesn't change the instinct to try hitting things to see if it starts working. It doesn't. She stumbles back to her corner and ends up sliding down to be seated. If it's going to fall, it doesn't have too far to fall, and she'll get hurt just as much being on the floor as against the wall. "Cat certainly seems to find people who have similar situations," she rasps under her breath, disgrunted and unhappy before saying, "Name's Gillian."

Common sense tells Dee that Gilly is perfectly nice, but her brain says otherwise, and so there is an unseen and barely-there layer of toxin spreading around. She knows it is there, but cannot seem to convince her mind to cut it out. Dee keeps quiet until she is offered an introduction. "I'm Delilah. It's nice to meet you."

After the conversation with a man of God, Gillian thinks if he's right, God is out to get even with her. Maybe it's just karma. Turning her wrist around, she looks at the yin/yang symbol in tribal that she got the night she met the woman she came here to see for the first time. And more besides. A jagged lightning shaped scar through it also stands out. A night that ended up changing her life in big ways. "Once we get out of here, I think I'll just go home. I should have called ahead. Everything's just going so… fucking wrong these days. I hope your problems are— crap, you're not like me too, are you?"

Delilah watches the dark-haired girl as she mulls to herself, personally becoming quite curious up until she starts speaking again, railing on the fact that her life has been shitty the last few days. Dee frowns a little in both sympathy and empathy. Everyone has those days, those weeks. Even her! Though not recently. "Mmm?" Oh, wait. "Err. Well, not like that, whatever the hell that was. But if you mean special, yes. Yes I am." Awk-ward.

It's been a tough last few months for her, and the newest thing going on isn't helping… Not at all. Gillian lets her hand contact her face, feeling some sweat on her palms. The situation is enough to make palms sweaty. "I'm not even sure what it was exactly. It's not supposed to be mine— look, if Cat can trust you them I'm guessing you're not going to run out of this building and dial into the whole of HomeSec, right? Cause if you do I'll— I don't, but I fucking mad next time I see you." Cause the last thing she wants to do is get locked up.

Delilah laughs, despite the seriousness. "God, no. I'd be tossed in the bin myself, Gillian." Dee appears to smooth her skirt again, but is in fact wiping off her hands. If Gillian is as stressed out as she supposedly is, it is quite possible that the other girl could turn into a sudden burst pipe of toxic goop at any moment. "You're fine with me. Cat trusts me for a reason. Least of all that I keep the secrets she shows me- and the secrets of any of her friends." And we all know who Cat's friends are.

"Good," Gillian says, looking relieved and willing to believe the girl, though there's a moment where she hesitates. For some reason every time a new ability comes up, she ends up looking at her hands, and she is again, sweaty as they are. "I'm actually not— my ability messed up, it changed. It's not the same." She keeps her voice down, but if all the electrical is out in the elevator, it's likely anything that could be used to listen in is as well. And this is Cat's place. She imagines it would be checked, double checked and Hana-sweeped for bugs of any kind. "Now I kinda… end up… whatever you can do, I might be able to do now. Cat was going to try and keep me away from other special people so that this stopped being so bad, but…"

Uh-oh. The look on Delilah's face says it all. Her eyes widen and her face pales just enough. That's a cue for something that she is hoping Gillian did not just end up with. All of a sudden, the redhead is at the elevator doors, lifting a fist to bang on them in hopes someone noticed the elevator being stuck. "HEY! We're stuck in here!"

Yeah, banging on the elevator after she says what she does leaves a pretty bad taste in the girl's mouth. Gillian can't help but stare at her as she jumps over and starts slamming fists against the cool metal. There's no immediate response, but she begins to push herself back up to her feet. "What is it? Delilah, listen, if this thing— it seems to go better if the people they come from talk to me. I'm not trying to hurt you or— whatever it is."

After a few bangs, there's a soft knock in response from below them. No voice can be heard, but it's a bang of metal against metal, so probably an electrician trying to at least acknowledge that they're working on it.

Delilah looks to Gillian when she stands up, about to answer when the knock comes from below and she glances at the floor. Then back up at Gillian, looking unsettled. "I can't let you get mine. Gee, I make it sound contagious." The redhead laughs nervously, backing against part of the wall again. "It's a toxin I secrete when I'm stressed somehow. Negative emotions. It comes out of my skin, my spit, probably my blood and whatever else too." Not getting that specific, thank you. "I suppose it works for me because I'm naturally …happy most of the time, so I'm not leaking psycho-goop all over." But other people- other people are always so sad, or so angry, or so scared… how would it work for them?

And considering that the ability she has happens to be connected to emotions as well… Gillian can't help but grimace and look back down at her hands again. That must be why she's got clamy palms. Great. There's some more banging, but no audible words from below, as she looks at the girl of the psycho-goop. She takes in a slow breath, trying to remain calm. Maybe if the emotions calm down she won't have to worry too much about it— how often does she get stuck in an elevator? So the conditions may not happen again… or so she'd like to think. "Do know what— what it does? Does it— hurt people?" Great. She can remember Peter's worries when he first figured out what she had, and one of them was picking up something deadly that will cause her to kill people with a touch.

"Mmmaaayyyes. Yes. Yes it does." Delilah seems to just realize that herself, blinking sadly and frowning at the carpet. "It's a psychoactive toxin. You know those toads that started the whole 'licking toads to get high' thing? It's kind of like that. Only… Delilah-sized. If someone absorbs enough of it, they'll overdose. Potentially lethal because of that, and because it fucks with anything else going on in the first place, like any other kind of drug." Tada. Welcome to Toad-World.

"Ooooh, so it'll be like tripping," Gillian says, looking down at her hand and mildly resisting the urge to lick herself. Psychoactive drugs are something she happens to have been familiarized with at least a few times in her rather rebellious life. It can be deadly, sure, she gets that point. But… It could also be rather fun for the person. Too bad it's triggered by negative emotions… "Well, I'll just have to avoid touching anyone for a while. Go straight home and… take a long shower." And try to remain calm. "I don't want this thing anymore than you do, I'm sure, but…" Tripping. It could be worse in her opinion. It could be real burning acid.

"It's not as easy to talk about once you've accidentally several unsuspecting people. I've drugged people with guns on accident. In public." See, Dee is a nice girl, that has obviously not seen as much action as someone like Gillian- she cannot fathom being too dangerous. "It's useful for muggers, and I haven't killed anyone yet, but…" But somehow it feels like it might be looming on her horizon. "Showers help." She says after a bit. "If it goes for a while it does turn into goop. Like… soft candle wax. It peels right off. Leaves me smelling kind of like a flower, but I don't know if it will be exactly the same for you…" Dee smirks a little. "It looks like your skin is melting when all that happens. I can pull it off in handfuls." Ew. TMI?

"What I used to do before this… I guess they called it augmentation. I made people like us a lot stronger than they're supposed to be," Gillian says, testing her fingers by pressing them together. No actual goop yet. But it does feel different than normal sweat now that she thinks about it. Bringing her fingers up close to her face, she tries to smell if it's like flowers, and she does get the faintest scent of wild plums… but that could be because she uses that often as her candles at home. "If people touched me sometimes they'd lose control over their abilities. Now I accidentally a whole shit load of other things." Like accidentally whole elevator. "Lots of 'accidentally' for both of us, it seems."

Delilah lifts a hand to push back some of her hair, smiling at Gillian's words. "I don't think it would have been very nice for me to have stumbled on that power either, huh? I probably would have been leaking crap all over everything in sight. It'd be like dropping an LSD bomb or something." Though that might be awesome- no thank you. "So you're …a mimic now? How'd you get messed up in the first place?" That's strange.

"Lucky I know to keep my ability knotted up around you, then," Gillian admits quietly, as she flexes her fingers a bit more. LSD bomb dropped in public could be fun as an April Fools Day joke, as long as they got the dosage so no one died, but it definitely isn't on the top of her list of things to happen. "When I get it back." If she gets it back. She's going to stay optimistic. "It's hard to explain, but there's a mother fucker running around who messes with people's abilities. Got caught in the line of fire." It's vague, but truthful enough. "There's some crazy shit out there."

"Oy." Sounds like a mess already, but part of her totally wants to know more. But then, she remembers Cat, and the fact that it was not asking questions of Cat's friends that got her this far. So she keeps the series of curious inquiries tucked away inside. "I suppose that there are worse things than being a Toad Girl, and part of me doesn't want to know about them." Dee giggles, but it trails off rather fast. "Just the other day I saw a lady that moved through someone else." Shudder. Ghosts. Do Not Want. "Now you, and apparently this guy that fucked you over…" And now, she cannot help but wonder if those people Cat brought to the safehouse had other crazy powers. "So many kinds."

"Lady who moved through someone?" Gillian can't help but repeat, mildly finding the very idea to be a little on the cool side. As if on cue, the lights suddenly come on in the elevator. The overhead ones first, the panel. Must have finally got the fuses fixed, or whatever it is that got busted. "Well, looks like I'm going to head home and take a shower…" Crazy ass powers. Every one of them. "Quick question, though…" Before the doors open… "You immune to what you do?"

Delilah jumps a little when the elevator comes alive. "Hm? To myself? I've… never tried. Probably, since it would kind of be …against the point of nature if I could poison myself." Point duly noted. "I don't think we'd be immune to each other, though." Which briefly gives Delilah some parting images that she was not planning on thinking about, and her freckled cheeks tinge pink. Asdfgsdf.

There's definitely an 'aw damnit' look on her face as Gillian drops her hands looking as if she might actually scoff her foot on the floor of the elevator. What's the point in getting someone else high if you can't get high yourself, right? It makes sense, while still being disappointing at the same time. Of course then the girl mentions the likelyhood they wouldn't be immune to each other, and turns a little pink around the freckles. There's suddenly a throaty laugh as the elevator doors open and she smiles, a set of big dimples appearing on her own cheeks. "You're a good kid, Freckles. Hopefully we'll see each other again soon." Possibly for testing that theory? Maybe…

There's a guy in one of those jump suits looking ready to check them over and she grins, mood suddenly raised even if it shouldn't be. "Thanks for getting us outta there, Pajama Man," she says as she starts to move back into the lobby. Home. Keep mood good. Shower.

Delilah lets out a noise between a laugh and a choke. Oh. Right. "Thanks, I guess. Okay. I- see you around, Gillian. Hi Bill." Delilah greets the Pajama-man with familiarity. "Good luck with your problem." Is the last bit she offers to the dark-haired young woman leaving the elevator before her.

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