Participants:
| Scene Title | InvisiBoy and Weather Girl |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Helena and Anders reunite after his evacuation from the Den. They talk ethics and make plans for less serious recreation. |
| Date | April 12, 2010 |
So at some point Helena picked up her head and went, Oh hey, I wonder what happened to Anders after the raid… and so that resulted in a phone call, during which it was confirmed that no, Anders isn't dead, and yes, Anders has since recovered, and why yes indeedy, he'd very much like to meet up with her someplace. Helena suggested the Rock Cellar, where she's waiting for him at a table while she sips a Red Stripe. Legally. Huzzah!
Laying low the week after the raid, Anders is glad to be able to have taken a turn for the better. Miraculous recovery! He steps into the Rock Cellar, glancing around before he spots the blond with her beer. He's a little scruffy and a little cold, given that all he has to keep the elements away is a leather jacket that's not very warm, and a tuque for his head, aside from the torn jeans and hockey jersey he wears.
"Hey there, Weather Girl," he says, cracking his usual grin as he slips into the seat across from Helena.
"Hi there, InvisiBoy." she greets in return, offering a grin of her own. "You look marvelously healthy!" she rises to offer him a hug. "I hope when Dee finishes getting over it she looks as good as you do. What have you been doing with yourself? Did you manage to find more work?"
Anders hugs a little awkwardly over the table, trying not to spill her beer while managing to sneak in a groping of her butt all at the same time. "Yeah, it hit the kid pretty damn hard, I'm afraid. Some people get nothing more than sniffles and some people get all … you know. Paralyzed and shit. I guess I was lucky," he says with a shrug. "Or maybe it wasn't the Evo flu at all… I wanted to thank you again for taking care of me and getting me help — even if that all went south. Dee went to the hospital, right? Did you get to visit her?" He picks up a menu and cracks it open, glancing down. "Work, I donno. Something'll come up. I sold some things, downsizing… I should be okay for now."
"I know the owner here." Helena immediately says. "Could probably get you a job waiting or bussing or…something. I mean, if you're really stuck." Helena has this thing, you see, about helping. "I'm here a lot. Sometimes it helps me to think - right now I've been trying to get my press statements in order and just coming up dry." She waves for a server, noting, "Your first is on me, okay?"
"Well, it's a bit of a distance if I stay on RI where there rent's cheap and the girls are cheaper — I mean…" he winks to show it's a joke. "But I appreciate that. I may be able to get the job I had again, and that's easy enough." He tilts his head at the mention of press statements, then nods to the beer offer. Free beer is good! "I never turn down a free drink. What press statements?"
She sighs, leaning back. "The government wants me to tell people to register so they can be vaccinated. I hate the idea that people are being denied health care if they have to compromise their civil rights. I don't even know if anyone's bothered to find out what's in the vaccine, anyway. So I don't know what I'm going to do. I mean, it's kind of a miracle that I didn't turn twenty-one still in Moab."
"So you're like a spokesgirl for the government or something? Because they figure the unwashed masses will listen to a cute weather girl, huh? That is a tough one. I mean… on one hand, there's people dying from this flu… Being vaccinated isn't a bad idea. Did you get vaccinated, by the way? Since they already know who you are. I wouldn't want you to get sick." The server comes by and he nods to the beer. "I'll have what she's having."
Anders gives a shrug. "I donno. I don't wanna be registered, but if I could avoid the flu, I probably would. Luckily I didn't get it bad, but it's kinda a crapshoot."
Helena swallows. "They want me to be." She says, looking wry. "They want me to. It's…well, people need to be healthy, right? But these are the same people who threw me in a cell without a trial, fed me slop, drugged me every day to suppress my ability, and tortured me. So it's kind of hard for me to feel okay about this. I mean…who would?"
He gives a slow nod. "That's rough. Maybe times have changed?" he asks, looking hopefully. "Not that I wanna be stamped and tattooed and Evo-carded. I'm happy with my anonymity. But, I mean… the more stuff's in the news about Evolved people — some of it's good, you know? Like … evolved people rescuing people from fires and roof collapses and all that kinda heroic crap. Maybe being know to be powered isn't as bad as it used to be… how long ago were you in Moab?"
"About a year now. I turned twenty while I was in there." Helena takes a swig of her drink. "We do all those good things, yes - and I'm glad, but that doesn't make it any easier." She shakes her head. "It's just really hard to trust the government and I don't feel right about telling people to register after I've worked so hard to remind people they have rights."
"Yeah. I donno. My dad was pro-registration and we had arguments about it but I kinda see his point. At least in the case of dangerous people. It's like a weapon, right? Like a gun, and people have to register guns. But you and me, we're not dangerous. Or maybe you are. I'm sure you could kick my ass if you tried, except you'd have to find me first," he says with a wink, nodding to the server who brings him a beer. "Look at whoever's doing this storm — how many people have they indirectly killed? If they were registered, it'd be stopped by now." He heaves a sigh. "I don't know. I like my freedom but I get the argument at the same time. Just… don't tell my dad that." He gives a smirk. "Anyway — people will do what they're gonna do probably… what do you get out of this, if you do it?"
"Would it? By that logic, the ten most wanted should have been found by virtue of having drivers licenses." Helena's grin is faintly wry. "People who harm others and act in a way that harm others lose their right to such choices. But law abiding people - for them, it should be a choice. They have a right to privacy." She shakes her head. "The person who's doing this…they're just a kid. They're scared, they don't understand what's going on, not really."
His eye brows raise and his green eyes grow wide. "You know who's doing this? Why are they doing it? What's scaring them?" he asks, taking a long swig of his beer before setting it on the table and watching her. "Is there a weather-people anonymous group or something? You all have a secret handshake and passwords and such? What's the fancy science word for what you do?"
"Atmokinetic. And no, I don't, not really. It's just…I get feelings, off the weather. It's the best that i can explain it." Helena says. "The weather effects my emotions, my emotions effect the weather, so it helps me somewhat get a sense of what's going on."
"Atmokinetic," Anders repeats. "Invisibility is easier to say." Not really, but more familiar, anyway. "Do you? So you get, what, vibes of … someone being a kid, and afraid? Why's it getting worse? I can't handle this winter anymore. It's supposed to be freakin' spring by now, you know? If I could teleport, I'd be in Miami or something, I think."
Helena shakes her head. "I don't know." she admits. "Believe me, if I could counteract this weather, I would." Helena says. "I do what I can, help where I can, you know? I'm going to be doing some volunteer work in a hospital, hopefully I can be of some help."
"Hospitals freak me out or I'd probably have gone to the one with the people who stayed at the Den," Anders says, glancing down. "I wasn't sick enough to worry but … I was kinda freaked out that I was gonna get as bad as them. That Else chick was really bad off." He makes a face, before taking another swig of the Red Stripe. "So whoever this other weather kid is, they're way powerful, huh?"
"Yes." Helena says. "And I'll do what I can." Helena then wrinkles her nose. "Did we get together mull over how the government's trying to make shill for them and the bad weather? We must have better things to talk about."
"Touche," Anders says, lifting his beer bottle and clinking the neck against hers. "Have I told you how very fetching you look today, Weather Girl?" His serious face of a moment ago shifts into his typical crinkle-eyed, crooked smirk as he pulls his bottle back to take another long swig, downing the remains of the bottle before setting the empty soldier down on the table. "So whatcha wanna talk about, or shall we talk more about how cute you are? I'd have you be a poster girl too, if I could."
She lets out a laugh. "You know, I actualy don't get that a lot. Being told I'm cute or fetching or anything else, so without it being overkill? It's nice to hear." She rests her elbow on the table, cupping her chin in hand. "So what do you want to do? I mean, did you ever have anything you were reaching for, before all this crazy started?"
"Me? No. I never was ambitious. I just wanna have a good time — speaking of which! Let's go to the movies. I feel like I've been in a bubble for the past month, you know? Let's go see something stupid and inane and eat popcorn and make out in the back row," Anders suggests, pulling out a wallet and putting a bill on the table despite her offer to pay. "And then, my fetching and cute little Weather Girl Poster child," he says, standing and offering his hand, "you can show me how cool and hot you can be all at once."