It's Our Curse


cat_icon.gif else_icon.gif eve_icon.gif gillian2_icon.gif mona_icon.gif

Scene Title It's Our Curse
Synopsis Eve and others are brought to meet Else.
Date August 22, 2009

The Rock Cellar

A comfortable place, located in the basement of 14 East 4th Street. The red brick walls are covered with memorabilia from various icons of rock and places in rock history, creating a feel similar to that of a Hard Rock Cafe.

The left wall has two bars separated by swinging doors which lead to and from the kitchen. Directly across from the entrance is a two foot high stage with all the equipment needed for acts to perform there. The right wall has three doors marked as restrooms: two for use by women and one by men.

Thirty square feet of open space for dancing and standing room is kept between the stage and the comfortable seating placed around tables which fill the remainder of the Cellar.

The lighting here is often kept dim for purposes of ambience, and when performers are onstage the place is loud enough to make conversation difficult. Just inside the door is a podium where location staff check IDs and stamp the hands of those under twenty-one with a substance visible under UV lights at the two bars and by devices the servers carry. On the podium's front is a sign with big black letters that just about explain it all: If You Don't Like Rock 'N' Roll, You're Too Late Now!

Land of Confusion indeed, Cat thinks as the last chords sound from that tune and the band is departing the stage. Nice choice. She rises from her seat, taking the pint of stout with her, and moves out to find Eve again as she and Gillian hadn't joined her at the table. Nor had Helena. Mona however had. "I've a meeting to arrange, you might be interested in seeing Else too," she invites as feet start to move. There is a touch of trepidation now, she isn't at all certain how this will go, but she suspects not well. Else Kjelstrom's been hostile the last two times she conversed with the precog singer, but one never knows. Two women seeing similar things may strike a chord she couldn't.

Needing to find Eve and Gillian gives Else time to reach her dressing room unapproached.

From where they are up against the wall, Gillian and Eve aren't too difficult to find, especially as they stay relatively stationary when the final notes of the music fade and the stage starts to clear. There's a rather serious look on the younger woman's face, a frown that creases her mouth and makes her unsettled. While she'd danced quite a bit with the first few bands, it seems that the last one struck quite a few cords. And no wonder, really. "Looks like I should go call Brian," she says, taking the moment to straighten from the wall a bit.

Of course, her friend had said that they would get to go talk to Else. There's a hesitation. "Should I really be there for this? You're the one who wanted to talk to her…"

The last song ended, Else is going backstage. The seer smiles softly at Gillian. She doesn't look back, looking to where Cat is and walking towards her. "Come." She says simply to Gillian.

Almost as if she is gliding through the crowd. She looks over her shoulder and raises an eyebrow to Gillian. "You are here.. why wouldn't I want you there with me?"

Out on the floor, amid some people who are starting to leave and others who've begun chanting for an encore, Cat makes her way toward the dreamer and the augmenter. On reaching them she makes a gesture which means 'this way' and shifts course. "Remember," she cautions, "I didn't tell you anything about her affection for substances. She's touchy about them, and the subject of her ability. Say the wrong thing and she'll throw things at your head, demand you go away and stay out of her business."

Cat knows. Because Pepsi impacted the wall near her head last time.

"Yes, yes, I'll go." Gillian says to Eve, giving in to the desire of her friend to have her stay, and ignoring the whole desire to run off and leave. It only grows when the woman who remembers everything arrives at their position, and tells them a lot of good advice… Though it doesn't sound like she thinks it's good advice. "How exactly are we supposed to go 'hey, Eve dreamed of the same stuff you're singing about' if we can't mention her possible ability?"

There's a shrug of her shoulders, "May have to risk stuff getting thrown at our heads a bit, but maybe it'll be different if she knows someone else sees the same stuff she does."

As Mona rises from that table to tag behind Cat like a faithfully called dog, there is a look of mild trepidation on her face, mixed with curiosity. A chance to meet Else Kjelstrom face-to-face. In an environment that does not include handfuls of shrieking fans trying to achieve the exact same thing, that is. There is little she has to say as she trails along, but Gillian does receive a familiar glance, and Eve in her black-and-red corsets a longer, more thorough glance as they are approached.

Through the VIP access and down a winding white-painted concrete block hall, Cat takes Gillian and Eve backstage, past the shouting cheers of the fans and towards the dressing rooms left back for Else's band. Roadies are already moving to the stage to disassemble the equipment, and when Cat makes her meandering way backstage and towards Else's room, the remainder of the Shattered Skies are also there, hanging out outside and talking to some of the band's fans who have VIP passes.

Without knowing Cat's true connections, the band members just give passing smiles to Cat and her entourage as they pass by, with the guitarists and drummer signing autographs while Else has vanished into the dressing room and out of sight.

The musician looks towards Gillian. "Maybe, we'll just have to see." She says as she follows after Cat. Mona is given a look as well, since she doesn't know the woman.

"Great work." She says to the band members as they make their way to Else's dressing room.

And at the door of that dressing room, having returned those smiles from the band members and congratulated them on their performance in passing, Cat raises her hand and applies knuckles to surface. Knocking, as it were. Then she waits to be given admission, eyes settling on the trio with her. And perhaps in anticipation she takes a step back so anything that's launched airborne finds the wall opposite their location and not them.

"Hey," Gillian says to Mona as they make their way back, a mild greeting, a cautious glance in her direction. Is she reading her mind right now? Those lessons against telepathy are definitely in the forefront of her mind at the sight of her again. Otherwise her mind is a quiet jumble, a mental check every so often to make sure something is tied up in the back of her mind. A knot to keep her ability from spilling out. The band members also get small nods, as she stays close to Cat, luckily not in the way of the opening door and the possible airborne items.

"Hey!" Mona returns as she falls into step beside the augmentor, aware of Cat's brief gaze on her. She actually is reading Gillian's mind without physically trying to, something which she isn't quite ready to admit to just yet if she doesn't want to bump up the Awkward Factor any. Maybe in order to stop herself from looking too suspicious, her eyes travel towards the members of the band as she passes them, resting on each on in turn. A murmur of: "Yeah, you guys were awesome out there." An eye is kept out for Else, in particular.

For all of the dragon Cat has made her out to be, there's a cheerful response from Else ont he other side. "Come on in!" The tired musician chirps, prompting Cat somewhat warily opening the door. There' sprawled out on one of the leather sofas in the dressing room, Else has her feet propped up, out of her boots and arms folded behind her head, a wet and cold washcloth draped over her brow.

"C'mon in, s'all your frien's or somethin'?" One black brow arches up as she looks past Cat to the gaggle of people outside — some of them the people gathered around the rest of the band. This is the first time, ever, that Else has been welcoming to Cat inside of the club, or anywhere since her auditon day.

"Yer all lettin' the cold air out, don' make me get up on'na m'feet, I'm absolutely exhausted, jus' come on in and close up when y'do." Waving one hand lazily from where she lays draped across that sofa, Else seems nothing like Cat painted her to be, but rather a laxidaisy young woman with an easy-going attitude…

The dark haired seeress looks at Else and nods her head as she steps in. "Your set.. was very good. The energy of it, so primal. Energizing." Eve smiles softly as she looks around the dressing room. "Your music has inspired me to focus back onto mine. I thank you for that."

The artist goes to lean against the room, her vambrace gleam in the light of the room. "Name's Eve." She says and nods her head at Else. She smiles at the fellow musician, she doesn't say anything about the dreams or anything.. yet.

Stepping just inside the door and moving to allow the others room to follow her in so the door can be closed behind them, Cat addresses the Scandinavian. "Great show!" she enthuses. "I especially like the choice for the ending." She doesn't particularly feel all the cold air is getting out, the Cellar is kept comfortable, but it's a trivial thing. Not one to disagree vocally about. Especially not with the storm she fears is still coming when and if Eve gets to the topic of precognicity.

"Yeah, I liked it, too," Gillian offers quietly, casting Eve a glance as she shows off her saner side as she steps into view of the precognitive singer— the other one. There's a lot of questions she could ask, but the doors just opened, and the woman who owns the building gave warnings not too long ago. She doesn't forget that quickly. "I'm Gillian— a friend of Cat's, as you'd already guessed." This time she glances back over at Cat and her enthusiasm, which she doesn't quite share. As she looks back at Else, she watches her quietly. Thoughts filter out through her head toward the telepath. She's really wondering what where some of those songs came from, what would happen if she let go of the knot in the back of her head…

"You have a wonderful voice//," is what Mona has to sincerely add to the previous compliments, though it's hard not to be distracted by the periphery of thoughts streaming in from Gillian— not because she's not used to them, but because they are particularly interesting. "—Mona. Another friend of Cat's." She chooses to fall silent, too, letting her gaze wander over Else so that Cat can do most of the talking.

Grinning where she lays on the sofa, Else dabs at her forehead with the cloth and stretches out to grab a bottle of water on the table, unscrewing the cap which is simply discarded on the floor as she takes a swig from it. "S'nice t'meet'cha Gillian, Mona…" She gives a hesitant look to Eve with both brows raised, "Eve." There's a quirk of a smile, eyeing the prophet's outfit, "Thanks for all the kind words. T'be hones' none'a this would've been possible without Cat's help. She really got me off'a the ground here, and… well, she's been a generous hostess. Sort've set me on a good path, as t'were." There's a knowing look given to Cat at those words, and Else sits up on the sofa, folding her legs beneath herself.

"So… d'you all come back just t'hang out, or'd you want me t'scribble my name on somethin' y'picked up at the show?" There's a crook of an even more sarcastic smile as she reaches out for a sharpie marker on the table, waggling it up and down between her fingers.

"//La mer?."

Eve sings softly, running a hand through her midnight black hair. She closes her eyes and sways, tapping her thigh as she sings, "Qu'on voit danser le long des golfes clairs."

The song that has haunted Eve's dreams.. the first song she ever heard Else sing. "A des reflets d'argent." Her voice soft but carrying through the room, for the other women's ears.

"La mer.."

Eve's head dips down, she breathes in deeply. Her shoulders drawing back and her eyes open to fall on Else. "The first song.." she says softly.
French. It's one of several languages Cat remembers perfectly. She translates the lyrics in her head, Mona can pick up on it, though it doesn't have any significance to her. There's just the thought of her wondering what it does mean, that Eve chose to sing it as the first thing out of her mouth on meeting Else. This isn't, however, let on. She just flashes a bright smile at the Scandinavian songbird, replying "It's really good to see you doing well, Else." Then she's off for a bit of a trip down memory lane. Mona is summarily treated to some imagery of a moshing audience at the Surly Wench from nearly a year ago and the sound of Cat's own voice. Rock The Casbah is what she's playing in that snippet.

And there Eve goes, singing in French. Gillian looks over with raised eyebrows, not really understanding what part of it is, but the tune sounds vaguely familiar. Something to do with a fish? If she had a perfect memory her whole life, she may have a better recollection of things, but she does not. "I don't have anything for you to sign, but— I was more interested in where you got some of those songs from. I mean…" She trails off, glancing back at Eve. One of the songs struck quite a few personal chords, in many ways.

Mona skims the translated lyrics rolling in Cat's head, also watching with distracted interest what she visually receives of the pamnesiac's performance at the Surly Wench. 'Rock The Casbah' has more inherent meaning to her than the La Mer on multiple people's minds; like Gillian, not much understanding. There's some difficulty to be had in paying attention to several different sources of information at once, but she does give a silent agreeing nod at Else to indicate that she, too, had been wondering something along those lines.

There's an almost immediately emotional look when Else hears that song, her lips part in a aping expression, then press tight as she swallows anxiously and brings a hand up to cover her mouth. "I— " her voice hitches in the back of her throat, jaw setting before she lays down the sharpie marker and picks up that damp washcloth, brushing it over her face. "I haven' heard that song in a long time," her teeth tug at her lower lip, "s'about the ocean. My… mother used'ta sing it to me when I was just a little thing. It actually— " she looks at Eve with a crooked stare, then cracks a smile, "it was part of my inspiration for the water sounds in Shores of the Empire State, and the muted piano in Anima, Animus."

Glancing around at everyone gathered, it's Gillian's words that draw a somewhat frustrated look from Else. Rubbing one hand over her forehead, she stares up at Cat rather clearly in an accusatory fashion, but doesn't say anything of the sort. Instead, she just manages a tense smile and offers a feint of an explanation to Gillian. "Oh— yo'know— life." Her brows go up with that, "S'the best teacher, right? Well— if you're, ah, n'here for anythin' really important I'm— " she swallows down some of her water crookedly, patting herself on the chest as one leg unwinds from beneath herself, bare foot touching down on the floor. "I'm kind've tired from the show, but it was really nice mettin' you all."

"The first song I heard you sing Else. You sang it beautifully." Eve finishes, she looks at Else and walks closer. Reaching down into her boot, she pulls something out. A photo, she must have taken.

"I have things.. that I must speak to you about." Eve's voice is soft and she looks down at Else. She squats in front of the woman. The photo would show a painting.. one of Eve's paintings, the one of the Empire State building and the water surrounding it.

"You and I.. share a gift.. a talent.." Eve's lips quirk upwards as she speaks about their shared ability. "A blessing, or sometimes considered a curse."

Light grey eyes settled on Else, nobody else is paid any attention. "I know how it feels to encounter something you have no control over.. have you forseen.. terrible things? That you couldn't control.. I have with this ability."

She looks up at the blonde haired woman. "If you are afraid, it's ok. You aren't alone out here." The dark haired woman looks up towards the ceiling. "He asked me, if I had taken something for the pain in my dream. It's how I see." She says and then another photo is presented to Else, this one of a bottle of pills rolling down some steps. Else's figure in the background, but the part that is missing her face is covered by her hair. "I think he was referring to you, when he said that."

In Cat's head, the thought is immediate and distinct. I hope this doesn't set her off. She hates to be cornered about all this. Her eyes move around a bit, surreptitiously looking for anything that might suddenly be flung at her head, or anyone else's head. This could get ugly. But it's better than if Peter found her, and one or the other of these two was going to at some point. Far better to have it be Eve.

She doesn't speak a word of explanation or apology, her features show only compassion, seek to transmit to Else that these are people she trusts implicitly, to give a sense of 'it's okay. It's all good.'.

"I've also seen the future… Things that were going to happen, even if I didn't really understand them at all," Gillian offers quietly, sympathetically, realizing that she probably did what Cat told them not to, but Eve's bringing it up in her own way— the way of someone who understands what it was like.

There's many ways to see the future. Dreams (she'd had Eve's ability for a time), paintings done by others, projected visions like from the pastor… And she's seen a lot of them. The first time she ever did was when she walked in on Gabriel painting the future, a vision of two Peters squaring off against each other in a broken street. A future she helped create when she went to a pawn shop the same day.

Mona gets a small insight on those thoughts. She's not quite as worried about soda getting into her hair.

I gotcha, Mona sends winging back towards Cat without looking at her, gaze still hovering in front of her. Her ability is telepathy, not empathy, but nevertheless she helps in what small ways she can: raising a minuscule mental fingertip into the depths of Else's mind, very gently smudging away the borders of what thoughts of uncertainty might be present. It's an attempt to put the singer to ease and basically prod her into a more receptive, relaxed state, as she as much as she dares which is barely, her murmury presence unnoticed.

Aloud, though, she doesn't seem to deem it necessary to speak for the moment; Eve and Gillian's words and encouragement are enough for the blonde they had come to see to respond to.

Confusion is the first reaction, Else's breath hitching in the back of her throat as Eve makes her way over and crouches down in front of her on the sofa. Then there's the photograph of a painting depicting the shorelines of buildings sunken beneath high waters, some twenty stories high. Fear is the next expression immediately crossing her face, dark eyes flashing up to Cat with a mixed look of betrayal and more importantly anger.

She recoils, both from the picture and Eve. "You— " Else hesitates momentarially, breathing hastened but gradually slowing, Mona''s handiwork, "I— I think yous hould all go." She nods towards the door, drawing one leg up to her chest as her arm wraps around it, "I don't— I don't want to talk about this. Ever— at all."

Her mind is awash with things, fearful and terrible that assail Mona's senses like a cascade of unwanted visitors pounding on the front of her mind. And that was with a nudge towards acceptance.

"What happens Else.. when the things you predict come true and people die." Eve shakes her head as she rises, but not to go. Not yet at least. "I pray to the gods that I could have gotten a vision about the Bomb before it happened, but it wasn't so. I've seen this." She gestures to the photo. "And I have a lot more paintings about this at my place. It gets no easier."

She curls her hands into fist. "I've been dealing with this since I was sixteen, I'm going to be thirty in next February, do the math." Eve bites her lip. "You have the chance to do something, to stop the moon from being covered in darkness. To save lives. To make a difference."

The singer grips her head, drawing one last picture from her boot. It's a photo of her painting of the moon being covered by darkness. She tosses it towards Else, it flutters towards the floor next to the blonde. "You can't run from it, and what will you do when you are forced to deal with it?" Eve tilts her head.

"Take the chance.. or leave it. But the regret.. the guilt it never gets better Else. Trust me."

Else's expression of betrayal isn't missed, nor is the anger, but Cat doesn't show any sign of remorse. Her thoughts say this is a far easier way to be approached than whatever Peter may have had in mind when he demanded her address and she refused to give it away. They aren't in the business of just letting things happen, and Eve is correct. The visions aren't going away; Else can run but can't hide.

Conversation with Else is left in Eve's hands, Cat says nothing.

Much as Cat's choosing to stay silent, Gillian does this time as well, looking a little distraught at the possibility they might be thrown out, but then looking over at Eve with an encouraging look. After the last few weeks especially, she's seen the effects visions have had on her. She only had one dream of the future, and it bothered her for weeks… She doubts she could live with fourteen years of it.

After seeing Else faced with harsh advice to deal with it — that's when Mona decides to finally say something, the look in her brown eyes bright and drawn into sympathetic regard; her head goes tilted at a slight angle. "It doesn't get easier," she says in a more seriously focused tone, taking several paces forward so she can join Eve by where they both are by the couch, "But you're not the only one who lives with what you do. We all just wanted to be normal at first, I know — god, I know I did. It's just something that we gotta face at some point or other, 'cause it's not going away."

There's a smile, without showing teeth. "It's our curse."

-Our.- Curse.

All the while, her mind silently keeps up its busy scrubwork in the midst of Else's overwrought brain, though it momentarily retracts a little when met with such tense resistance. Relax, you're not the only one who thinks so, or has thought so; relax.

After seeing Else faced with harsh advice to deal with it — that's when Mona decides to finally say something, the look in her brown eyes bright and drawn into sympathetic regard; her head goes tilted at a slight angle. "It doesn't get easier," she says in a more seriously focused tone, taking several paces forward so she can join Eve by where they both are by the couch, "But you're not the only one who lives with what you do. We all just wanted to be normal at first, I know — god, I know I did. It's just something that we gotta face at some point or other, 'cause it's not going away."

There's a smile, without showing teeth. "It's our curse."

-Our.- Curse.

All the while, her mind silently keeps up its busy scrubwork in the midst of Else's overwrought brain, though it momentarily retracts a little when met with such tense resistance. Relax, you're not the only one who thinks so, or has thought so; relax.

"I don't— " Else looks at Cat again, furiously, "I'm a fuckin' musician I cant— " springing off of the sofa, Else's feet pad across the floor, hands thrown into the air as she backs up towards the dressing room mirrors. "W'the fuck d'you want from me? I already gave Cat one'a my notebooks, the others'r at my apartment, you— you fuckin' want them too? Want t'see about how I wrote about the day my mum dies? You— you want t'fuckin' drag all'a that out?"

Throwing one hand towards Cat, Else's brows furrow. "I didn't ask you t'fuckin' tell the whole world what I got! That wasn't yours to tell, you 'ad no right— no right invitin' these people in'na my life like that! I don't want your world, I don' wan'ta be a part'a your world! I'm not!" She brings her hands up to the side of her head. "I don' want your support group fer the genetically challenged!" Her eyes are tearing up, "Just— just leave me 'lone, I don' want t'be— I just— just go!"

"Stop that." Eve says calmly. And she places her hands at her side. "Cat hasn't told me anything. I dreamt about you Else.. you were sent to me in one of my dreams."

"The bringer of a message, the herald.. I've been looking for you every since I've had the dream." When the talk of loved ones dying and experiencing it before hand comes up, "I foresaw the man I loved dying and I couldn't do anything to stop it." Cameron, it was in her perspective in the dream but it foreshadowed Cameron's death that happened lateer.

The thought of him, she tries not to think about him much. Brings up memories for her. "You don't really have a choice, unless you find a way to scrub your DNA free of what you can do." Eve's eyes tearing up also, with the emotional block she built up from her feelings finally breaking down.

"This is what can happen." She extends her arms and turns them so that Else can see them. The scars from when she wrote on the wall in her blood are healed now, pale pink jagged lines now.

"It becomes too much. It's too big for someone to carry on their own. Let me help you.. help me stop this from happening."

She shakes her head. "It sounds harsh but you can't run from this, it'll keep coming back."

"Do you want to see what I've seen, to put pictures to the words you have written?"

She isn't speaking now, the talking is left to Eve. Cat simply watches and listens. She shows no sign of being about to leave, or of preventing Else from running away if she chooses. If this were some other place, being told to get out might carry weight. But it isn't, Cat won't give in to being ordered away from part of her own establishment, nor will she suggest anyone with her should go.

"Some of us heard of things in your songs before we ever even heard of you, Else," Gillian adds, reaching out to touch her friend's cut up arms. The very arms she helped clean up and bandage when she finally found her. The dream had driven her to do drastic things to herself, to her apartment walls… She may not be sane, but her ability drove her to do that. "Your songs aren't just… they say much more than words…" Most singers would like to say all their songs do, but this one's far more true than most.

"Cat didn't tell us anything, we just asked to see you after Eve recognized you from her dream, saw your face in the paper. I saw your face in one of her paintings before I even knew you existed." Sure, it wasn't a perfect likeness, but it fit close enough.

Like Cat, Mona just falls silent again to listen and watch, subconsciously shying back a little at the volcanic reaction that had been induced. She does slant a gaze over at the pamnesiac when Else breaks into yells and orders them out. It doesn't seem appropriate that she say anything, really, especially since she is one of 'these' people who had been 'invited in'na her life' without right.

Remarkably, it's Gillian who seems to tame Else enough when it looked like she was just going to bolt right out of the room. She looks back at Cat, eyes narrowed, then stares over at Eve before frustratedly spitting out. "What t'hell do you want from me? I pour m'goddamned heart out on stage— isn' that enough? I told Cat, I told her, I can't control what I do. I don' see anything, it's just words, just words."

She waves her hand at the inside of her her right forearm, which is scrawled with writing in tiny black lettering from a ballpoint pen. "It just happens I can't control it, I can't choose what I write, I just write. I don't even understand half of it I— just want you people to leave me the hell alone and let me deal w'this on my own time. What d'you want from me?"

"I can't control it.. I don't think our gifts are meant to be controlled." Eve says and she looks down at Else's arm, what does it say?" The woman tilts her head and then returns her gaze to her face.

"You forsee the future differently, like I said before. I dream it and then paint or write it." She says softly and then looks to Else. "I want you to know that there is at least one other person, who deals with the same thing you are." She says and rubs her hands together. "If you want me to go I will, but what I want from you.. is for you to be brave and to help prevent this cataclysmic event from happening."

"I think she's already agreed to do that, Eve," Cat opines, "when she told me she'd pass me anything she writes after having an episode. There's nothing more to tell. No more she can do to cooperate. And she deserves to have as much peace as she can. Tell her where to find you if she chooses, Eve," Cat recommends, "and let it be at that. She clearly isn't ready to do anything beyond relaying what comes to her. I told you this, Eve, you wouldn't take my word, so I brought you here to see firsthand. If I hadn't, you'd have found her eventually. I hope now you believe me."

"I wasn't told any of that," Gillian says, glancing over at Cat for a moment. It's not so much that it would have changed anything, but… "Sorry," she says after a moment. "I know how pissed off I was when some fucker decided to plaster my face on a slideshow and tell a whole room full of people exactly what I did. I wanted to kill him for weeks." And then months later she did see one of him get shot many times by a red head. "Just keep writing. If you can't explain anything further in what you write, then just writing is enough." It doesn't make understanding what she's written any easier.

"I can vouch for that," Mona comments ironically with a brief, sidelong look at Gillian. Writing can help. Oh yes it can help. "And -I'm- sorry. Part of my ability, too, it just happens; for months I couldn't leave my goddamned house 'cause of it. Stopped seeing family, stopped seeing friends, stopped everything including my ability to go out in public and work — and I was already on government handouts." Purportedly because she had also lost her home in the bomb.

The writer remains rooted where she is, relaying a short sigh. "Like she said, if nothing else: just write. You can't force explanations out of paper, that's something that'll have to come on its own, but there's a reason you can do it and nobody else can.

Looking squarely at Eve, Else's brows furrow and her words are forced thorugh her teeth as if to emphasize just how serious she is. "There's some things you can't stop." Tense, Else closes her eyes and rolls her tongue across her teeth, exhaling a deep sigh through her nose. "I don'want t'be a part've this— any of this. I just— I didn't ask fe rhtis, none'a us did. But it doesn't mean we have't accept it, lie down n'just— You don' jus' go oh I've got cancer oh well if y'get sick. I'm— I'm not— "

She's lost her point in all of that anger, most of it directed inwardly. Resting a hand on the bridge of her nose, Else looks down to her forearm, then up to Even as her neck muscles tense some. "It doesn't matter w'it says. It's not about you." She wraps her arms around herself, posture becoming far more insecure. "Could y'all please leave m'be? I— m'sorry you were hopin' for me to be all shiny and miracles an' want to help you. But I don't. I don't want any of it."

Swallowing tightly, her eyes drift over to Cat, then back to Eve. "So'n less you're going to force me to sit here and scribble out words for you, I'd like to be able to relax after m'show."

It's not about you. Right. It sounds like she's lying, like she maybe knows things she isn't sharing, but trying to push isn't likely to get anywhere further. "It is about us, Else," she says quietly. "If the city floods, we die. People die. If something happens in the sky and causes destruction, that affects us. You know where to find me when you have new songs. Good night, Else." Solemnly she begins to calmly usher the others out to leave Miss Kjelstrom her solitude.

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