Participants:
| Scene Title | Imperfect Reflections |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Rebecca and Tamara are both alike and unalike; seers whose vision is turned in opposite directions. The more their paths cross, the fewer similarities there seem to be. |
| Date | July 18, 2009 |
A Church in Brooklyn
There's an expectant stillness hanging somewhere above the pews and beneath the vaulted ceiling of this small church, the sort that comes along early in the morning, in the period just prior to the city hitting its stride. The first waves of the morning commute have begun trickling onto the streets, accompanied by such songbirds as there are in the city; it's a clear day above the fog, and promises to become very warm, very quickly.
The room is largely empty, lit by diffuse light through stained-glass windows and two tapered candles by the entrance. Largely, save for the blond-haired form tucked into a corner of a pew, leaning heavily against its side and with her feet pulled up onto the bench. Her hair has fallen over the arm, and masks any view of her face; a small, gray object peeks out around one foot of the pew, recognizable as a cellphone.
Rebecca Nakano's Sunday mornings normally include some time at a local church. It is within walking distance from where she lives and this is why she chose it in the first place. She doesn't make every Sunday service, and that will be the case tomorrow. She has work lined up for tomorrow that will keep her from attending service. On those days, she likes to try and find some time to come in for a little quiet time with her deity of choice.
She walks up the steep steps and pulls the large door open to the church and steps inside. It is customary for the church to be open, available to those who might need to seek out spiritual guidance, comfort or solitude. For Rebecca, it is the need for quiet. Her headaches have become more of a common thing for her, even when she doesn't initiate visions, the familiar throbbing is nearly crippling her. She finds herself dipping into her pills more often than she should and yet no doctor can seem to find anything wrong with her.
So, she prays.
As she walks down the aisle towards the front, it's only then that she spies someone already present. She doesn't say a word, not yet recognizing the girl, as she moves to kneel at the alter for a moment of prayer.
Perhaps it has to do with the sanctity of a church and its meditative silence; one doesn't speak to strangers here and disturb their (or anyone else's) contemplations — but the girl remains silent as Rebecca walks by. She doesn't move, either, although as the woman moves past, into her field of view, Tamara's eyes follow her movements, despite the fact that she can't quite make them focus.
Perhaps her silence has more to do with the weary droop of her eyelids… or the errant crimson smear that didn't quite get cleaned off her face, the spots that seem to have earlier dripped down her turquoise shirt and now dried there. If there are any on her jeans, the black color hides it better.
It could be the headache, but Rebecca doesn't notice it's Tamara until she finishes her prayer and stands to leave the church, starting down the aisle. Her keen eye notices something familiar about the girl and she stops and tilts her head. "Tamara?" she murmurs mostly to herself. She walks into the pew aisle that Tamara is sitting on takes a seat next to her. She notices the blood on the girl's face and clothing.
"Tamara." She says softly to the girl. "Are you okay?" There's several things that come to mind for Rebecca to do. One is to call the hospital. The other is to try and get the girl to come with her out of the darkened church so she can determine if the girl is okay. However, from what she's noticed of the girl in past encounters is that she doesn't tend to do what you expect her to do. "I'd like to help you. Would you come with me?" She finally asks.
She doesn't quite look at Rebecca as the woman studies her, considers her options, yet it's clear that Tamara is paying attention to something here. It's also clear that her attention wavers at irregular but frequent intervals, that unfocused gaze flicking sideways from time to time. "Nff." Her expression, as she more or less regards Rebecca, has that 'I don't really want to move' look to it, which is not in any way the same thing as no. The girl closes her eyes, swallows, tries again. "'N tire'." That isn't going to work either. So she holds her left hand out towards Rebecca instead.
Rebecca isn't really the type to impose her will on someone, so she's not going to rush Tamara. She really has no idea how injured the girl is, what happened to her or what the consequences of moving her could be. She moves to meet Tamara's hand with her own and takes it gently. "Before we move, I need to know if you were in an accident. Of you were injured by something or someone? Do I need to get you an ambulance or can you walk?" There are alot of questions there, but Rebecca doesn't need to make any potential injuries worse.
The sybil shakes her head even before the question is completed. No, no, and no. She levers herself up out of the pew, but the very next thing Tamara does is not walk — no; she leans down to retrieve the fallen phone instead, closing her right hand around it and holding it close to her torso upon straightening.
As Tamara rises so does Rebecca, keeping a hold of the hand that was given to her, as she watches Tamara reach for the phone and cling to it. "Is there someone we can call? Someplace you can go, Tamara? Can you tell me what happened to you?"
Slowly, Rebecca attempts to lead Tamara from the pew to the aisle and towards the exit to the church. How long had Tamara been sitting here, and how come no one else saw her and helped her?
One step, two steps, three; then Tamara sets her heels to the floor, looking obliquely up at Rebecca. "Don', just — waited. Time to… find. Enough pieces, at least. Broken." Her eyes close again, in the manner of someone summoning up additional energy. Her right hand comes away, fingers still curled around the face-down phone, the gesture an offer. "Easiest — was your own."
Rebecca blinks as the phone is offered to her. Her hand reaches over and takes the phone in her hand. She did ask if Tamara had anyone she could call, perhaps this is the answer. She does notice the phone is not turned on, so she pushes the button that turns it on. "Did you want me to call someone for you?" she asks. She hasn't yet looked directly at the phone. These things are coming to her as common occurance. Avoid reflecting surfaces. Her own phone is equipped now with a reflective-free film. She glances at Tamara. "Someone perhaps you've called recently?"
The girl shakes her head. Although she has thus far exhibited a much slower, more halting demeanor than usual, she demonstrates that it isn't completely the case by deftly plucking the cellphone from Rebecca's hand and turning it back off. Even if, after doing so, she winces slightly and rubs her eyes. "Not — about. That. The phone." Unlit screens are better reflectors, although Tamara now holds it in a way that angles the screen down, away from inadvertant glances.
The way the phone is bring presented to her, and the fact that Tamara turned it back off, confuses the issue for the tech. Rebecca does notice the shiny surface of the screen as she considers Tamara for a moment. "Did you want me to look at this and see what happened to you? Because I can't really do that unless I am where you were when it happened."
Rebecca chews on her bottom lip for a moment as if contemplating what to do. In this particular situation, her ability is of no use to her, so in her mind the best way to deal with this is to walk Tamara towards the nearest ER, or at least walk her long enough to determine if she needs to go to the ER. "Let's keep walking." She isn't sure how Tamara knows, but she has a very keen idea that somehow Tamara knows what the forensic officer can do.
Folded shut, the phone remains in Tamara's right hand, relegated to hanging at her side. She leans a bit against Rebecca's shoulder, closing her eyes. "'Kay." The girl seems content with the decision, neither approving nor disappointed; just accepting. Eyes still closed, she steps towards the door.
For Rebecca, this only confuses the issue more. As Tamara steps towards the exit, Rebecca follows, still hand in hand with the girl as the leave the large church, they make the long trek down the concrete stairs that lead to the sidewalk that gives them more choices to make. Rebecca knows the way to the ER is one direction, to her residence is another.
Brooklyn, near Fort Greene Apartments
"I can take you to my place to clean up, if you'd like a shower and you think you're okay. If you think you need to see a doctor, I can take you this way." As they stop, Rebecca notices now the blood has come from the girl's nose and likely isn't all that serious, but there's really no good way of telling. That it has actualy stopped bleeding is a good sign. She doesn't force the issue one way or another, but neither does she let go of the hand that was given to her.
It looks, really, like it stopped some time ago — long enough that the girl made some effort to clean her face, even if she didn't quite get everything. Tamara seems to make the walk outside entirely with her eyes closed; she opens them once they're on the street. Shaking her head a bit, she tugs Rebecca in the direction of 'home'. "Not that way. S'too white."
There are several blocks to Rebecca's home. It's things like how Tamara knows which direction is it to her house that totally confuse the 'not so easily confused' Rebecca. As the two walk down the sidewalk, Rebecca decides to at least attempt to get some answers out of the girl.
"Do you have someplace you live?" she asks as she reaches up and tucks a loose strand of black hair behind her ear that was tickling her face.
Asking her how she knows what direction to go would probably get better answers out of the girl. Tamara stares at her feet as she walks, as if to make sure they're stepping in the proper places or something along those lines. Live? Live. Hm. "The mirror lived in the shadows," she answers distantly, words coming only slowly. "Sometimes… more than others."
So it all seems to come back to the mirror. But in what way? Rebecca already feels her headache coming back, though it isn't necessarily because of this. Her eyes lid halfway closed to keep the brightness of the morning from them. As they edge closer towards her building, Rebecca glances over at the girl. "You like to talk about the mirrors alot. Do they mean something?" It's a long shot, she knows, but maybe she'll get an understandable answer from Tamara.
The girl wrinkles her nose as they continue walking; she moves towards the correct building without question or hesitation, but in a sort of automatic way — the kind of autopilot that in most people would reflect long familiarity with the route. The hand holding the cellphone is used to shove hair back from her face, more or less ineffectually. "Should always mean what you say. You're s'posed to. S'like…" Tamara pauses in her speech, gaze drifting sideways as if following something — where nothing is.
Fort Greene and Rebecca's Apartment
Rebecca doesn't have any response as she leads Tamara into the building. In all her years, she's never met anyone like Tamara. There is some sort of connection there, but she's not exactly sure what it is. She seems to be running into the girl far more often than circumstance should dictate. She walks up to the elevator and glances at the girl. "I hope you don't mind elevators, otherwise, we can just take the stairs." Rebecca only lives a few floors up, so it's not that far to walk. She reaches for the 'up' arrow.
Elevators seem to suit Tamara just fine. At any rate, she stands quietly beside Becca in the lobby until just before the chime announces its arrival at the floor. Normally, courtesy dictates one stand back and let departing passengers emerge; Tamara steps right up to the doors, and through them into an empty elevator. She leans against the wall beside the control panel, keying in their destination floor without much apparent forethought.
Rebecca has a pattern for when she enters this particular elevator. Plenty of shiny surfaces to be caught, so she has systematically counted pace and is able to reach for the button she needs without looking at the reflective control pad but as she reaches, Tamara has already reached over and pressed the corrent button which causes Rebecca to gives the girl a querying glance. "How do you know where I live?" she asks. The stopping in front of the building, the pushing of the right button on the elevator. Rebecca's eyes drop to the wooden floor to avoid any accidental contact with the shiny surfaces the elevator provides as she waits for an answer as the car begins to move upward several floors, then open as they reach the appropriate floor for Rebecca's apartment.
The girl stifles a yawn, leaning her head back against the metal wall with a soft thunk. "Mm. S'where the shadows went," Tamara replies matter-of-factly. "The ones that worked, anyway. You had to work, too; it's all right. Does it bother you?" she asks, looking over at Rebecca as they step out of the elevator.
Rebecca steps off the elevator and turns to the right and heads down the hallway. "Does it bother me that I have a job or that I have an ability?" The shadows and the mirror she still hasn't figured out the meanings, but she tugs a set of keys out of her pocket and slips it into the lock and twists, unlocking the deadbolt before changing keys and opening the doorknob, turning it and pushing the door open, motioning for Tamara to go on in.
She follows Rebecca down the hall, waits for her to open the door. Considers the woman's question, her head tilting to one side. "…I don't know." Treating it as a query in its own right rather than a prompt for clarification. Tamara pads into the apartment; without hesitation or pause to collect bearings, she makes her way over to the couch and promptly curls up on it. Shower, what shower?
Starting to feel as if she's never going to get anywhere with the girl, Rebecca shakes her head and walks over to the closet and pulls it open to retrieve a blanket and sets it on the end of the couch, if the girl wants to use it. "There's food in the kitchen, a shower if you need it and plenty of stuff to drink in the fridge." If she bothers looking, the girl will find water and soda. "I have to go to work." She writes her number down on a pad by the phone. "If you need anything call me." She can only hope the girl understands. "When you leave, just lock the door, please." As if she's expecting Tamara to be gone when she gets home. With that, she turns and leaves the apartment, hoping she's doing the right thing. She locks both locks behind her.