Participants:
| Scene Title | I Can See Your Future |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Listen up, we'll make a deal / And I'll tell you what I see. |
| Date | December 18, 2011 |
The days since Rue’s arrest have haunted the island. That nice tall redhead hurt Kaylee? Betrayed them all? How could it be..? Though the rumor mill has spun out of control and people are placing the blame on Rue or an enigmatic shadow of a person which nobody seems to have a clue to their identity.
Eve Mas hasn't really concerned herself with rumors. Instead she has sat in silence as the events have unfolded. Her silence one that many that know her would notice as unusual. A grim expression is set on her face as she trots down the castle hall. Paint and charcoal stained fingers trailing on the stone wall as she hums lightly to herself.
As the raven haired woman comes to her destination she opens the door without any sort of knock. Her simple black dress falls to her ankles, her feet bare and make a soft padding sound on the stone. Light eerie gray eyes peek around the room.
“Quinnie?”
Quinn has been spending her days lately a handful of particular ways: Inquiring about Rue and the state of the Ferry to people,, avoiding certain figures within the Ferry she didn't want much to talk to, or sitting in her room, along, playing music with her sparkling red guitar - well, grey to her. This time, though, the song she plays isn't one of hers.
"Summer came and went too fast
Father, the wolf, and the pack
And Two birds would join in
love-song melodies
no matter where
they were found"
She's looking down at a sheet of paper as she plays, going along with it fairly well as she goes - only occasionally stumbling across words or chords. When the door opens, she pauses just long enough to look up at Eve. A smile appears on her face, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, before she turns back and continues playing.
"But the little bird
Lost on the wind
Always against the storm
Though she lost her way
She was never alone
There were always hands
To hold"
She stops, leaning back a bit from he edge of the bed, a long sigh escaping her lips. "One of Else's songs," she says quietly, a hand running down the paper reverently. These songs had brought her an odd sort of comfort in the last few days, even despite the sad memories they bubbled up in her mind.
She looks back to Eve, tilting her head a bit - and allowing Eve to see the stitches that run up one side of her face. "What's up, Eve?"
First the lyrics and melody are given note as the oracle enters the room and she leans against the wall laying her head on the wall. A light smile rugs at her lips as her friend finishes. A sad one. “I'm happy we got to see her one last time.” Eve’s tone full of emotion but she is here to check on Quinnie not wallow herself.
As the stitches are seen Eve shakes her head sucking her teeth. “Aw Quinnie what did you do?” She sinks to her knees in front of the other woman and lifts a hand to trace a strand of her hair. “I am the reckless one.” She says with a light grin at Quinn.
A sigh escapes her as she looks down at the ground. “I tried to warn Cherry. I told her to run.” Eve closes her eyes as she sits back on her heels. “I thought she would listen. Pick up and vanish like the shadows in the morning.. now I'm afraid.” The oracle looks out the corner of her eye to the other side of the room as if Rue herself stood there, “She May become a shadow herself.”
I'm the reckless one. Quinn rolls her eyes. "Yeah, well… I have a reckless streak m'self," she notes, a frown slowly forming on her lips. She glances back to the music, setting it and her guitar aside. She's been getting bits and pieces back of everything that happened in the Arc, ever since Lynette told her about what happened. She wished she wasn't, but there wasn't much she could do about it. And for a brief moment, she glares at Eve, a bit of residual anger welling up.
It deflates entirely at the mention of "Cherry". Of Rue.
"She never woulda left, Eve. She gave her heart an' soul t' these people." Quinn's expression becomes a bit more sombre. "Wait, y' warned her?" Quinn looks up at Eve with disbelief on her face. "You knew this was going t' happen?" Quinn spirit visibly falls as she stares at Eve. "Why- why didn't you tell me? I could've made sure she left. We both could've left!"
Her expression flattens, Quinn shaking her head. "I guess it's not that simple, is it?"
Eve misses the anger because it quickly leads to surprise and bewilderment on Quinn’s part as Quinn seems defeated Eve places a hand on the other woman’s knee. “You answered the question yourself.” Its said sadly as she looks into the sunglasses. “Our futures are our own, she did not want to believe.” She shakes her head again and looks sad at the woman. Maybe she should have also warned Quinn but Quinn is right, would it have mattered? “It's never simple. It's all confusing, it's all head spinning.”
“There is still time Quinnie.”
The woman bends her head to try to catch Quinn’s eyes. “Cherry is not dead yet!” Eve looks to Quinn in excitement. “Quinnie you are fierce and protect the ones you care about. You are a fine friend.” tears slip from her eyes as she looks into Quinn’s covered eyes. Eve has had few real fine friends and while Gillian and Elisabeth have been considered number one and two in that department there is a shiny new slot that Quinn has filled.
“Thank you Quinnie.” A soft expression falls on the prophet’s face. Eve knows she is a hard person to be friends with at times. Quinn still wanting her around says a lot.
Quinn stares at Eve for a long moment, expression impassive at first. It quickly begins to break, softening as Eve begins to tear up, and even as much as Quinn has played the part of a tough person the last few days, of someone running low on fucks to give and emotions have, even she can't help but smile as she reaches over to Eve and wraps her arms around her.
Pulling off her sunglasses - the light level in the room is low enough that she can get by without them for a little bit - she gives a small nod as she pulls Eve in tight. "Yeah. There's still time, an' God knows I'm gonna do everythin' I can t' make sure she gets out of this. I have promises t' keep, after all." She takes a long breath. "Thank you for warning her, at least. you're a good friend for that."
She swallows audibly, leaning up and giving Eve a quick kiss on the cheek. "I know we'll have our disagreements from time t' time, Eve, but I'm honoured t' have you as a friend. You're a bit of a legend in my circles, y' know that, right? Explosive songstress that you are." She gives a soft laugh. "Not that that matters. I think there's few people I'd rather have at m' side if we get in a pinch again."
If nothing else, she knows that Eve will be… well prepared.
As Quinn hugs and kisses the woman on the cheek her heart warms and a few more years fall from the oracle’s face. It is a powerful thing to be accepted and Quinn accepting her flaws and all touches the woman to no end. “I believe you will keep your promise too. So does Cherry.” Because she has too. Eve needs Cherry to believe in herself as well as her friends.
“I am honored to have a woman as bright as you by my side Quinnie. You are a breath of fresh air.” Most people Eve hangs around are perpetually sad/damaged/angry. “You see the light even before me.” She grins with a light chuckle and squeezes her fellow musician hard before leaning back.
A expression of mischief crosses the woman’s face and she places a hand on her chest, “Me? A legend in certain circles?” Eve cackles as she processes the thought. “We can blame PARIAH for that.” The whole explosive songstress bit.
“If you are ever in a corner Quinnie,” her expression now serious as she looks Quinn in her damaged eyes. “I will come and tug you out.”
"There's no believing to be done," Quinn replies resolutely, releasing Eve and rising up to her feet. "Only action." Rue will get out of this predicament, after all. So will she. So will Eve. But they won't do it by believing. Quinn's running low on faith these days - there is only drive to act, until she finally runs out.
"A musical legend, I mean The Orchid Loun-" she stops, canting her head at Eve. "PARIAH? Really?" She offers a bit of a laugh. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I bet if I asked around I'd be surprised how many people I know go back to PARIAH. Or Phoenix." Quinn slides her sunglasses back on to her face, hands on her hips.
"I don't know how much light I have left," she offers honestly, her voice very matter of fact. "Cambridge took my light. Elieen cut the rest away. But…" She look back to Eve."That's not going to stop me. Not yet. I may need you t' pull me out at some point, Eve. If it gets bad."
With that, he looks away, off into space. "I dunno if it's rude t' ask, Eve," Quinn starts, voice a bit quieter. "But have y' seen anything else recently? I'm still tryin' t' finish out that Three Witches paintin' of yours, but… you haven't seen anything' else like Rue have you?"
A twinkle in her eyes as Quinn recounts her old life. A life she misses. Performing live was her sacred space. Eve never felt crazy on the stage. She never felt trapped inside her own mind there. “Those were.. the real real good old days.”
Eve climbs to her feet and leans against the wall eyes looking out the window. “I was running the streets with Claire, Cameron, Trask.. Helena, Monica, Peter.. I found Cameron before he was taken in by DHS.” A weary look is given to Quinn and the woman could see just how tired Eve looks. Eve's learned that once you lose as much sleep as she has nothing gets it back.
“He had formed PARIAH right before that. I helped. Bombs, raids.. graffiti. Then on my off hours I was singing at the lounge.” A faint smile at the thought of Teo visiting to watch her sing. “It was an insane time.” As if this wasn't. “I met Gabriel that day and if I had shot him.. maybe he wouldn't have met Eileen.” That Eileen gets the happiness of love and Quinn gets a knife in the eye doesn't exactly seem fair to the oracle. “Those scales are so unbalanced.”
“You will not be stopped.” Is her simple reply to Quinn. As the woman asks of her recent visions a grin is thrown Quinn’s way as she nudges her door open with a foot and bounces out of the door.
“Follow meeeee!”
She knows some of what PARIAH did back in the day. She was mostly struggling to make a living in Brooklyn in her post-Amanda years, before she met Sable and found her way into the Ferry, so she was so far removed from it she never really thought about how some of her friends might have been a part of it too.
Some of those names catch in her mind. They don't quite link with the people she knows, but she holds on to them anyway.
"Look, I have no love for Eileen anymore, but-" Quinn knows what happened is more her fault than Eileen's. That doesn't mean she's not mad, bitter, and maybe even vengeful about it. But she does know she's not innocent in that whole incident.
If she cares about that or not? That's a whole other question.
She never gets to voice any of this, though. Not before Eileen starts taking off from her room, beckoning her to come after. "Oh God, is this why you stopped by?" This is asked with a hint of amusement on Quinn's part. She doesn't immediately follow, instead taking a moment to slide the sheet music for Little Bird into her bag before she follows after Eve.
"Eve, you can't run that far ahead of me anymore!" she protests as she makes her way after the seer. "It's really, really mean t' make a half blind girl run after y'!" She jokes of course, she can still see, just not as well, and within the castle she doesn't need her sunglasses either, allowing her to see a bit more clearly.
“Maybe you should get a walking stick and seeing eye dog silly!”
Whenever Quinn loses sight of Eve, her humming would draw her ear. Eve snickers as she makes her way down halls and turning corners until she comes to stop in front of her room door. “Well,” She says finally answering Quinn’s question about if this was the real reason she came to the woman. Instead of answering she kicks the door to her room open and strides in.
The room is a mess of papers. So eerily similar style to how Else’s room was found. There are papers everywhere and a few canvases blank and finished all over the room. The canvases getting harder for the artist to come by on the island so her charcoal and sketch paper have become her lifeline to translating her visions to pages.
The painting of the Three Mothers sits propped against the wall. The other painting depicting the shadowy figure flanked by two women who look suspiciously like Barbara Zimmerman but blonde sits next to it almost covering the Three Mothers. Another painting sits near the other two.
The canvas is dark all over. Lines and shading depict a deep hole being tore in the fabric of.. the world. Purple light glints on the edges. Is that water painted? A bright orange presents the firefly that Eve held in her hands.
“Firefly..” Eve says in a whisper as she comes to kneel near the paintings. Her foot lands on a page covering half of what appears to be the face of that woman again, the blonde Barbara. A wide grin is thrown Quinn’s way and nods her head at the woman. Have a look around if you like, the look says.
"A firefly?" Quinn looks at the painting questioningly, a hand on her cheek uninjured cheek. "I wrote a song about a firefly once. Really though, it was just a metaphor for someone I knew." This time Quinn leaves the subject unnamed. "So you have your visions, and then y' paint them…" A glance is offered up towards the pictures of the woman that looks like Barbara, and then to the Three- well, Quinn calls it the Three Witches. "I was told, once, that Else had a similar thing goin' on, but with her songs. I'm really glad I held on t' them now, but this…"
"Hey, so- I wasn't jokin' when I told Broome I'd seen those necklaces before," she says, motioning to the painting she had helped Eve recover. "Those fishhooks, Walter has one a' those. Walter Trafford, one a' those kids who came back from th' future." It's weird to her to think about how she knows both Walters, both in a rather cursory manner. "Do you know anything about that?" She hopes, probably in vain, that maybe the oracle had gleaned something from all of her visions.
Turning away from the Three Witches, Quinn begins to wander around the room, looking at the various paintings. "I should've brought my camera…" she muses. "Is it fine if I come back later with it? WIth- with the military waitin' outside the dome, havin' backups might not be the worst idea." She continues to look, always careful of where she's stepping. "How… how long have you been at this, Eve? This can't be just few days worth a' paintin'." Or maybe it could be, Quinn has no idea.
“Save the Firefly. Little guy doesn't burn out though.” That's a relief for Eve but something has been nagging at her about the vision. “I'd love to hear that,” a wide smile thrown her friends direction. “And Else’s.. work.” She had been meaning to look over it with Quinn. As an inquiry on her ability starts she nods, trailing a fingertip along a blank canvas, “I dream them.. or see them wide awake while Gilly is around. I paint them after, I've written songs about them but not in the vein as Else, she was a special wee one.” A look of regret, “The future is not set in stone but just because something can be averted.. the ripples can create similar effects.” She tilts her head.
The topic of the fish hook necklace gains a raise of an dark eyebrow and Eve bends forward to dig her metallic cigarette case out from near her bedroll on the floor. Taking a lighter and a joint from within to light and take a few puffs, Eve lets a moment past as she regards the Three Mothers/Witches. Smoke rising up to the ceiling of the room.
“That symbol.. it has been around..” Eve bites her lip and then takes another pull. “It's important in this long long game that people are playing..” the word game tossed out with mild contempt. Eve is batshit crazy don't get her wrong. But a lot of these so called working for a better future group leaders really royally fuck things up. Eve still isn't sure if she is just enabling everyone to trample on butterfly wings. “Besides that.. not yet. I have appointments to keep. People to see that may know.”
On the topic of backups for her paintings she nods and nods towards her burnt messenger bag. “I have one disposable camera but you should take some with yours.” People may need to see these and Eve isn't always around. “I can remember them.. like my children. To recreate them but a picture..” she grins brightly, “makes it so I can be lazy.” Another puff before the smoke is offered towards Quinnie.
Just behind Eve partly obscured by a blank canvas is a painting that Quinn hadn't noticed before. The environment of a sterile and professional office is painted, the ruined cityscape of New York City peeks in from a large open window. Standing near the lone desk in the room pointing a gun at an unknown assailant is Robyn Quinn. The most interesting part of this painting is her face. She's clearly a little older and not the same age as the Quinn standing before Eve now. One half a calm collected stare of indifference while the other mirrors Quinn’s look of horror that she wore for much of the events at the Arc. A thin but jagged line separates the two very different facial features.
That doesn't really help Quinn understand, but she does "understand", in a manner of speaking. Maybe that would be something she would need to research once she got off of this God forsaken island - that symbol had been bothering her ever since she had seen it in the gallery. Frowning, she nods, eyes continuing to sweep over the paintings as she considers them.
"All of this is…" She pauses for a moment, thinking to herself. "I don't want t' get caught up in the mindset people like Broome had, but some a' this may be really important, Eve. It's a good idea we document it in case anythin' happens before we can get out of here." She makes a note to go get her camera and come back, turning around the room and-
Quinn freezes, eyes widening as her eyes settle on one of the pictures by Eve. For a moment, she just stares, hands tightening up into balls. Taking off her sunglasses so she can get a clearer look, Quinn slowly makes her way past Eve, moving aside the blank canvas. "Eve…" she says with hesitation, picking up the painting of herself. "What the fuck is this?" She knows what it is, in a general sense. And that's what unnerves her even more.
“Changing the future is dangerous. The balance of how much you should do,” She lifts her hands opposite each other to show illustrate a scale. “Can be fuzzy.” Fuzzy is something Eve knows about. “Too many men have tried to steer the ship. All alone. They know best. Clever boys they think.. but maybe.. Maybe the ship just likes to float?” Eve shrugs. And then Quinn finds one of her latest pieces of art, one featuring her.
“I just did that one… fairly recently. With all that has happened..” she didn't want to worry her friend more. The pale woman lifts her hand as she takes a deep drag from her joint. The smoke wafting out of the little window in the corner she has. Tendrils of smoke wave near her face as she gives Quinn a worried look.
“You have a choice it seems Quinnie.” Her gaze flicks to the painting in Quinn’s hands. “Which way do ya go?” Eve wags a finger back and forth in front of her fellow musician. “But wherever you are, I’ll be there.” Of this she is certain and a sentiment she wants to make sure that Quinn really gets. Maybe this painting comes to past, maybe it doesn't. But Eve will not abandon her friend. “It looks like we have time for you to decide still though so,” she pats her friend on the shoulder.
“I don't think I'm really friends with anyone until I've painted them.”
"We were friends before you painted me, Eve." Quinn thinks, at least? Probably. She studies the image, expression flat as she squints and looks at it carefully. "This future is already gonna change, Eve. I've already made a choice." She looks back over her shoulder the other woman, letting out a bit of a sigh. "I'm leaving New York. After all a'… this." She leans forward, looking at the gun - it's hard to see any detail in one in the picture, she can't tell if it's her Model 32. She looks older, maybe. Not too much. "I've had enough of all the fights. I can't stay here through this anymore."
She crosses her arms, leaning back and putting her sunglasses on. "I'm not- I don't believe in the whole roadmap ideal that Broome talked about. I don't believe in fate, I believe in possibility." This, even despite how so many aspects of her dreams and visions have come true - twisted and changed, but true in some form or another. "But, I think I do believe in keepin' record, if y' know what I mean." Quinn isn't sure she does herself. "You never know how the pieces might add up," is a lesson she's learned over the last year and a half.
"Do you have the materials t' reproduce this for me?" She smiles as she asks this, looking over at Eve. "I promise, I won't do anythin' crazy. But I would like t' have a copy. I wouldn't want t' take the original." Honestly, Quinn wants to ask her to reproduce as many as she can - but there probably isn't the time or resources for that. Pictures taken from her camera would have to do.
“Touche Quinnie.” They definitely were. As Quinn gives the news of her leaving Eve takes it in stride. The actual day Quinn leaves will probably see Eve a bit emotional but Quinn’s reasons make sense. Not everyone is as unhinged as this woman is. She's given and drawn too much blood to walk away. But she sometimes wishes she could.
As they talk of Broome and roadmaps Eve nods her head before tilting her head at Quinn. “My Oracle Room.. where everything hung nicely,” not nicely but rather messy and crazy. “Was emptied by Simon and Dick.” That still makes her angry the loss of her work. It's not the obsession with the future. It's the love of her art that makes her angry for this moment. “Keeping a record is clever clever Quinnie.” Is said in a singsong voice as the prophet leans forward smoke trailing from her mouth. “Sometimes pieces match overtime.” Another shrug and grin towards the paintings assembled in the room. “They wear down on the the edges. Easier to slip into place.” Or they remain as rigid as they have always been.
“Of course Quinnie, for you. And this one is free because you are bright,” and her friend. A toothy grin flashes and she waves a smoke cloaked hand towards her artwork. “Once I am settled and all this is over.” Because there's no way things could get worse… Eve knows better. “A new Oracle Room must be built. You have to visit Quinnie. We will miss you, this fight will miss you.” A sad look from those gray eyes, “I will miss you.”
Quinn takes a step back from the painting, nodding as Eve tells her about the theft of her paintings - the things she had to say in the Arcology make so much more sense now. She gives a slow nod, and a smile. She has thoughts, notes, opinions as she looks over the paintings. But she never voices them. Not before Eve tells her she'll miss her, and her smile fades. Quinn lowers her head slightly, before turning back to the seer.
"Once I get settled, I'll let y' know." She hadn't been planning on telling anyone. She didn't want to tell anyone, besides Rue. A few knew she might leave at this point, but she had avoided details - and certainly hadn't planned on reaching out. But she imagines, maybe, she could bare to let Eve know. "I'm gonna be alone, I think. Maybe." Everything she had told Rue still held true - she doesn't think she could stand to take anything with her. It would remind her too much. "Dunno where yet. France? Canada?" She gives a small shrug, reaching to scratch at the back of her head. "You can bring me new paintin's. Just like- regular ones. I do love your style, y' know. Everything else about 'em is just more t' think on."
Which is the truth. If no one had told Quinn Eve occasionally painted the future, she'd still like the other woman's art. She reaches up, a hand patting on Eve's shoulder. It was a little strange how the two became friends so fast, at least to Quinn. But she'd also never had to worry about making friends in a firefight much before. "I'd love t' see a new Oracle Room, though! You should open a new lounge named that. It's a fantastic name." She gives a small nod, lips on the uninjured side of her face quirking up. "Maybe I'll keep one at m' new place with the pictures I take."
The oracle feels comfort as Quinn promises to keep Eve in the loop about how she's doing even though it might not be very often Eve smiles at the other woman and nods. “France sounds lovely. So much wine..” she grins wickedly. If anyone deserves to kick back and not have to deal with this mess of a war anymore it's Quinn in Eve’s eyes. The closeness that the two feel is strange but Eve isn't known for her conventional way of making friends.
The compliments on her art make the woman blush and she dips her head. D’aww Quinnie. “Aww Quinnie thanks. I will paint a personal one just for you! Without my head trauma spilling out in the canvas.” She grins brightly and then Quinn voices her thoughts on the Oracle Room and she grins even wider. Now there is a thought.
“I've never thought of that Quinnie.. if I did that. If you return you would have to perform with me once or twice.” A chuckle as she thinks to the future. But this time it's not so dark.
"Y' know, I seem to inspire that in people sometimes." That Eve had never thought to name a place The Oracle Room doesn't surprise her - people never seem to notice the great names right in front of them. Or the terrible ones, she thinks as she remembers the drink her and Nadira teamed up to make. She doesn't make any comment about the possibility of returning though.
She doesn't want to break Eve's heart too.
Quinn's lips quirk back and front, looking away from Eve and back towards the door. "I'm…" She lets out a soft sigh. "Lemme go get my camera, an' then we relax for a bit, maybe." She offers a small smile. "I bet we could both use it."