Ice in the Ointment



Scene Title Ice in the Ointment
Synopsis Tracy spends her first night as an unregistered evolved in a bottle.
Date June 22, 2009

Tracy Strauss' Apartment

Swanky yet chilly.

The room is dark - it's night, maybe even early morning. The curtains are drawn, all the windows and doors are locked. There is some very soft, meloncholy music playing in the background - it sounds like a violin solo of Shenandoah.

Stacy Trauss is drunk. Fuck! Oh well, you get the idea. Instead of lounging in the living room, or laying in bed working, she's at the dining room table, with a half-empty bottle of scotch. Every glass that she owns has been piled onto the table. The woman sits, in the same clothes she was in during the press conference earlier today, with her face in her hands. Weakly, she sits up, reaching for the bottle and pouring two drinks. She holds the first drink close, sipping it, staring at the other drink. Then, she sets her glass down with a soft sound, reaches forward, and simply touches the second glass with her index finger.

The reaction takes only a few seconds, ice and frost seem to radiate from her touch all over the glass until everything - itself, it's contents, everything - are frozen solid, all the way through. Tracy sits back, cradling the still-unfrozen glass between her hands
as she stares at what she just did. She finishes her drink, setting the glass aside. She just stares.

As if nothing were wrong, nothing in the world, Tracy leans forward and picks up the frozen glass between two fingers, rather dainty-like in her own way. An easy twist of her arm brings the glass away from the table. And then she drops it, watching it fall until it hits the floor, shattering into a million peices. It's apparently not the first glass to have gone that route - her hardwood floor is covered with ice shards, almost beyond the point of seeing the floor in this one spot where she seems to favor dropping them.

She doesn't take long to turn her attention back to the table, reaching for the bottle - and almost missing when she does so. Finally, her fingers wrap around the neck, tilting it to empty it's contents into her glass - but not having any left to freeze. She sets the bottle down with a thunk, throws back her last glass, and pushes to her feet.

For Tracy Strauss, the floor will never have a tilt. Even in a severely intoxicated state like she's in, she still manages to pull off walking where she wants to walk. She just might not remember how she got where she was going when she gets there. An 'old school' drunk, as it were. But where she's going was the liquor cabinet. Yanking it open, she begins to shuffle through it, pushing bottles back and forth, rattling them against each other as she searches for what she needs.

Finally finding what she needs - a 102 year old bottle. She pulls it out, having been saving it for a very, very special occasion. First-lady special. This seems…more appropriate, somehow.

And then, she just leans back against the counter and stares at the bottle in her hand. A heavy sigh is heaved - the woman couldn't be under more stress than she is now. Setting her empty glass aside with a thunk, she runs her fingers over the label, smiling in such fondness of such a beautiful thing.

While she watches this bottle as though it were her friend, her smile fades. As though some fond memory just faded and she were brought back to a hellish existence. In truth, that's exactly what happened. And while Tracy watches the label of the bottle begins to glisten over, to become hazy with frost and to turn lighter. Soon the bottle in her hand is bluish and frozen, ruined entirely. She just, continues to stare at it. And then? She lets it fall and shatter all over her kitchen floor.
Her high heels make crunching sounds as the Special Director of Communications to the President walks through the ice shards, to the back of the kitchen. There, her back finds a wall, and she leans on it, closing her eyes. She does not cry. She does not scream. She does not hate or fear. She just thinks.

How am I going to fix this?

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