eileen_icon.gif eve_icon.gif

Scene Title Invitations
Synopsis Eileen pays Eve a visit at the seer's request.
Date September 17, 2009

A Nondescript Ferryhouse

It's not too late in the evening as Eve sits up in the bed and she hums softly to herself. An apple is cut and placed to the side on the bedside table, along with a pear. Eve then reaches into the basket of fruit and takes out a banana.

Eve looks better, her long black hair is down and spills across her shoulders as she peels the banana back and takes a bite of it with a smile.

Her eyes drift towards the window where the night sky can be seen.

The sound of footsteps heralds the arrival of Eve's visitor. A moment later, Eileen Ruskin appears in the open doorframe and raps knuckles against its wooden frame to formally announce her presence. Dressed in the same faded denim jeans and battered leather jacket as the last time she and the seer met, she enters the room without and invitation and roves pale eyes over Eve's bedridden shape beneath the covers.

Gillian told her about their encounter with Feng Daiyu in Else Kjelstrom's apartment, and it's with this in mind that she moves toward the older woman's side, saying nothing at first. This visit is long overdue.

When she does speak, it's in a quiet voice. "You wanted to see me?"

"When you get a chance to lay in bed as long as I have been." Eve say softly, expression light as she takes another bite of the banana. "You get to slow down and really think about things." She says before looking towards Eileen with a grim sort of look.

Yes, this is long overdue.

"I have news for you. For all of the Remnant." Eve breathes and then a red envelope with Eileen's name on it is held out for her to take. It holds the picture of Eileen's death, Ethan is in the picture as well. "There is a envelope for each of the Remnant."

Eileen, not having opened the envelope, remains oblivious to its contents as she reaches out and curls chalk white fingers around it's paper edge. As tempting as it is to slit it open with the tip of one lacquered fingernail, she resists the urge and slips it into her jacket's interior pocket for safekeeping instead. The motion momentarily makes her shoulder holster visible, as well as the pistol it contains, moonlight glinting off dark gunmetal and the jacket's silver zipper. "Is it so bad that you can't tell us to our faces?" she asks with a small smile, self-derisive. "You had to write a letter?"

Eyebrows lift at Eileen and she shrugs. "I thought it a better way to the introduce the possibility of your deaths." Eve's gaze lingers on Eileen's before moving back towards the window.

"There's no real good way to tell someone that they are going to die." The seer says softly and she takes another bite of the banana. Finishing it. "This passing out of the letters.. is more like an invitation, so that you all can hear the true story of what might happen." She says and draws unseen patterns in the blankets around her. "I know you want Feng. I want to help." She says and tilts her head at Eileen.

"After what he did to you, I'm not surprised." There's a faint furrow of Eileen's brow at Eve's words, accompanied by flaring nostrils and a short snort puffed out through her nose. She rolls her left shoulder as if working the tension from the tired muscles there, and follows her gaze out the window. There's not much of a view from here; spindly branches block distant shadows that resemble the shapes of the towering skyscrapers that define New York's famous cityscape. Light filters into the bedroom through a pair of sheer curtains, flimsy as spider's silk and just as gossamer soft to the touch.

Eileen fingers its side hem, rubbing the material between the pads of her index and thumb. "Your life is too valuable, Eve," she says. "More'n mine, anyway. But I'll ask the others how they feel about involving an outsider, put it vote."

"Thank you.." Eve blinks and looks at Eileen. "Not many people, look at me that way." She shakes her head. "Except Gillian." She nods her head and looks down at the blankets. "I know my ability is to see the future. I'm a Watcher, but.. I have other skills that could be of help to you. I won't be put," she gestures to herself. "In this position again."

Eyes narrow as she thinks about Feng. "Thank you for considering, to let me help." Eve folds her hands in front of her. "I'm sorry that the news doesn't get any better. But I guess we can look at this as the storm that you guys have to battle through." Eve says and her light grey eyes stare at the wall in front of her. "When it's all over with, the sun will be shining on the other side."

"Spoken like a true optimist." Eileen releases the curtain, ripples spreading through the fabric from the metal rings affixing it to the rod all the way to the floor. She steps away from Eve's bedside, gaze moving through the room in search of— something. What that something is doesn't remain a mystery for long, however. As her hand falls back to her side, fingertips curling in on themselves, she looks over her shoulder at Eve and arches one sculpted brow. "Where are the others?"

"Do my dirty work for me, would you?" Eve raises an eyebrow as well and she gets the envelopes from under her pillow. She places them on her lap. "I'll still like to do Gabriel's. Would like to see the old man." She chuckles softly at her joke that Gabriel is old. "Sometimes, when all you ever dream of is darkness and death.. you need a little optimism."

Eileen holds out her hand for the envelopes. "You can't change the direction of the wind," she agrees, "but you can adjust your sails. If I see him, I'll tell him to pay you a visit."

"Thank you." She says and holds the rest of the them out to Eileen. "Make sure to deliver them prompt. The date for the meeting at my place, is still in effect." Eve smiles lightly. She couldn't have foreseen that it would take this long.. could she? "Goodnight Eileen, talk to you soon. And please be safe."

The other envelopes join the first inside Eileen's jacket, nestled between its silk lining and her breast. "As promptly as I can," she promises. "Sometimes I don't see them for days," or in Gabriel's case, "weeks." Two fingers pinch the jacket's zipper between them and pull it all the way up to the bottom of her chin. "Say hello to Gillian for me," she says by way of farewell, showing the other woman her back as she retreats from the bedroom the same way that came in: silent and without any fanfare save for the scuff of boots against wood.

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