Most Of The Blood Is Washed Away


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Scene Title Most Of The Blood Is Washed Away
Synopsis The past repeats itself and part of a dream comes to be.
Date December 19, 2011

Downriver from Pollepel Island

The dome had fallen. Those birds which had haunted Eve’s dreams a month ago descended on the foes that came into their temporary home. Then they fell upon friends and foe alike. But as soon as the dome fell and the rain came down with it, she smelled something in the air, something that tugged on scent memory. She knew where she had to go.

She had to be there. To save the firefly. Or in this case, a glow bug.

The battle has ended, for the most part. No more explosions. No gunfire. Just the rain and the lapping of water on unfrozen portion of the river.

Trapped in the branches of dead tree, there she is. Ever since they were reunited after the Ark, Gillian had given off a scent of the river. A scent memory, more than actual truth. And it had been the clue that had finally tipped her off. The firefly that she needed to save was her friend. Much in the same way that she had saved her once before.

When the bridge collapsed.

There’s a huffing of breath as Eve runs through the trees, light gray eyes wild as she searches the forest, the island. She knows she’s here somewhere. The oracle has been in the position of saving Gillian on numerous occasions, the first being a complete accident when she asked for Gabriel Gray to spare a life in his name, she still didn’t know that the life spared was the one of her best friend but fate it would seem has been throwing these women together for years. Just like before, like all those other times Eve answers the call to come to Gillian’s aid.

After her talk with Quinn, the musician had begun to pack her drawings away, rolling up and folding the new paintings that she did and storing them in a backpack when the dome fell and the birds descended it didn’t take long for Eve to be packed and ready to go. She wears that dark green backpack on her back, her messenger back bounces on her thigh as she moves through the area, there’s the river. And there’s..


Eve shouts as she pumps her arms at her side barreling through trees and debris on the island ground her crimson dress snagging on a few branches but that doesn’t stop her for long. She throws her bags to the ground as she leans over to examine her friend. Eyes wide she lays a hand on Gillian’s cold face and smiles weakly, “Come on Firefly. No time for sleeping silly.” with a grunt she pulls Gillian up out of the branches and hoists her friend by the shoulders, “You’re not so heavy at all! You have-,” she lays Gillian down on the ground gently, “To tell me your workout plan.” A compliment at the strangest time. A quiver of fear snakes up the woman’s spine as her friend doesn’t stir from Eve’s ramblings or the movement of her body. “Come on, no no no.” sinking to her knees Eve presses her ear to Gillian’s chest and then her mouth, holding a pinky under her friend’s nose her eyes widen again.

Throwing her hands over Gillian’s chest she presses down two times before leaning over and propping her mouth open to blow air into her lungs. She does this a few times, whisper frantically to herself as she presses down on her chest. “Chicken would be so pissed if she was stuck with just me Gilly, get up.”

That was what the dream meant when she blew air at that tiny glowbug in her hands. Now she blew life back into her friend. With a cough and a shudder, Gillian suddenly moves under her, twisting to throw up water from her lungs and stomach, coughing and shaking. She has no energy left to flow outward, which is fortunate cause that knot in the back of her head will take some time to regain. But she had given everything she had to Eileen.

In a bid to save those on the island.

Even if it could not save the girl who called upon the birds, the girl who had already been dying.

As she finally regains herself somewhat, her hazel green eyes find Eve’s, bloodshot and wet. There’s scratches all along her body, some deep, some not. But almost all of the blood has washed away.

As Gillian, her firefly surges to life Eve’s body sags with relief and she leans over to hug Gillian once she's not coughing as much. “Oh thank the goddess and the river!” She shrieks and holds Gillian’s hand. “We are not meant to die yet it seems Gilly.” She says softly before she's looking over her shoulder.

“It's just like before, no time for dilly dallying.” Eve grins across at her friend and lays a hand on her cheek, “Do be more careful, I was afraid I had missed you.” Though Eve seems to have made it just in time. “Most of the blood has washed away, can you stand Gilly?” The oracle takes a moment to sit on her heels tying her long mane of midnight black curls into a loose bun. “You're a miracle. Chicken would be so proud.”

Reaching over the snag her backpack and messenger bag she slips the backpack on and then throws the messenger bag underneath the strap across her chest. Crouching near Gillian she gives her a look, “We can take a nice long nap once we’re free of this place, I'll bake us cinnamon rolls.”

Shivering, exhausted and barely able to breathe without coughing, Gillian seems swept along by the tall precog, who once again had saved her life. That much she knows. Is it ever her day to die, or is it just the day she watches someone die? She’d stayed behind to hold Eileen’s hand til the absolute last moment, til the first of the shells started to fall. Most of the cuts came from the birds, as she found herself running across the frozen part of the river.

Only the freezing water had stopped them. She wasn’t even sure how far the current carried her, how long she struggled to stay above water. But she does remember when she slipped under the ice. When the current caught her. That she remembers.

That and the birds.

“Did— did they make it? Did it work?” The precog mentioned chicken. Lene. “Did anyone else make it?” Please tell her it had been worth it— That’s worth a thousand cinnamon rolls.

“They are gone.”

Eve is holding onto Gillian’s arm in comfort. “Chicken is okay,” a guess. A good guess.. the darker haired woman smiles down at her friend. “You did it Gilly. You saved us all.” She grips her arm tightly and nods her head. “We have to leave, you know they are coming.” They needs no explanation. This place is not safe.

Maybe it never really was.

“You.. Young Falcon.. is she?” The birds have to be a huge indication of this. But still Eve would rather it not be true. They’ve lost so many already. How does this happen?

At first Gillian misunderstood, hearing gone and thinking the worst. But thankfully Eve continued and she closed her eyes, nodding with relief as her friend moved her along. They were coming. They would always be coming. It would never end, as long as they were alive. “Eileen’s dead,” she answers the unfinished question. Dead. Gone. Lost. “But she saved us.” The birds may have turned on her and attacked her, but she knows they wouldn’t have lasted those first ten minutes without them.

With a shudder, she leans into Eve’s warmth, trying to keep moving as requested. “I hope you have an idea where to go because unless we can find a Brian, I don’t.” If they can find a Brian, it’s up to Canada for them.

Once she stops shaking uncontrollably.

A moment of silence as Gillian confirms the news of Eileen’s death. Eve nods her head slowly. “Poor Gabriel.” Is her simple reply, she had affection for the young bird. “She died a hero which is better than what we first met her as.”

As the pair make their way through the trees Eve leads her to a relatively quiet part of the island. There tied to a thick tree by the banks of the river is a simple boat. An old model, the motor probably barely works but Eve hid it here. Just for this occasion. Or the occasion of escape. She had stolen Quinn’s iPod once while the other woman was sleeping and a swift escape route would have been necessary.

“We will meet up with Brian not too far.” Brian doesn't know it but Eve does. And she's planned for an escape. She didn't know when that escape would become necessary until the dome fell down. Eve guides Gillian to the boat and sits her inside, moving fast to throw her bags inside and untie the boat. Hopping in the back she rifles in her backpack for a long trench coat, one of hers.

Slipping Gillian’s arms into the coat one by one she whispers words of comfort to her friend. She is strong and she has indeed been through so much worst. And yes they do have a billion cinnamon rolls to bake. As they finish getting the coat on Gillian she reaches into her messenger bag and shakes out a flask. Shaking it in front of Gillian with a look. “Drink, get warm. There is water in the backpack.” Amongst a few firearms, a grenade or three and various art supplies and sketches. Both her bags are packed to the brim.

The singer shuffles to the back of the boat and starts the engine up after one failed attempt. It putters to life and Eve steers as the boat begins to make its way up river. If Gillian were to take a sip of the flask she would taste the smoky flavors of mezcal on her tongue.

A light hum emits from the woman as she sways back and forth. “Things are not going to get easy.” She says things softly, quickly, she's nervous. “There will be more bodies.” Her grip tightens on the motor.

“There’s always more bodies,” Gillian responds quietly before taking a sip from the flask. It might actually help warm her a little, or maybe she feels she needs more than a sip, because it turns into a full blown drink after a few moments. “I hope one of her birds made it to him. She was already fading fast when I… augmented her.” But she can hope, hope that she was able to give him one last message.

Something she could not do for another. Something she would never be able to do for another.

“Your dream gave her the idea— of using her birds to defend and escape,” she responds as she tries to hug her clothes around her. Wet clothes she’ll need to get out of soon. Her whole body aches. From cuts, from falls, from the cold. Even with the cold— she would have thought it would numb her, but it did not. “We just didn’t plan for the portal to drop without— god someone stabbed her, Eve. We had a traitor…” A traitor.

One who wasn’t already locked away. What if they’d locked away the wrong person, like Brian and Lynette had been trying to say?

“I wish she had listened more and left before it came to this,” Eve says with regret. In the past, Eve might have ran around screaming until people left but she had learned that most times people wouldn't listen, not until it was too late. She's sad for Eileen that she didn't heed her warning sooner.

The oracle powers the boat along listening to Gillian’s words with a sad expression. “I knew Cherry wasn't the one, I tried to warn her.. she didn't leave the island in time.” the Italian blows a strand of hair out of her face staring down into the river as they make their way through. ““The traitor will be found.. and die.” It's what they deserve for this, for Eileen. Her brow furrows as she muses their situation, the Ferrymen. It's over.

Her eyes go up to the moon and she briefly closes her eyes sniffing the air. She smells burning, blood, fear. Shivering slightly she angles the boat towards the opening in the river to the larger body of water. The stars are bright up above, she rarely sees this, but living in the island has afforded her the luxury of stargazing.

“It's a sky full of stars..” Eve’s mouth hangs open slightly as she stares off silent for a few moments before her head snaps towards her best friend. “You have to promise. You’ll be careful.” A look of worry enters her eyes and she nods towards the island behind them. “Things always get worse but..” Eve leans forward and grabs her friends shoulder gently.

“I can't lose you Gilly.”

“You won’t lose me. Apparently everyone I love gets to save me,” Gillian offers quietly, leaning against her taller, psychic friend. Everyone she loves seems to save her. In a way that’s her way of saying she loves Eve. But at the same time it’s also hinting at something she finds doubly tragic— she doesn’t get to save the people she loves back. At least not the ones she tried to save the most.

They will find the traitor and make them pay. It’s enough. “I’ll be careful,” she assures. “And if I’m not you’ll be there to pull me out.” This isn’t the first time she’d done it.

Though part of her hopes it will be the last.

“You will be careful,” Eve echoes as she lays an arm around her friend gently and closes her eyes for a moment, the sound of the motor no match for the sound of destruction and gunfire in the distance. “And if not I will drag you out.” For the third time, or was it the fourth?

She couldn't remember and it didn't matter anyway. Eve would do it a hundred times over, two hundred if given the chance. “Sisters gotta stick together.” She whispers softly Gillian, rubbing her shoulders and smiling a grim one.

The boat makes it way out to the larger body of water and they move at a relaxed pace, there's not much power in the boat anyway. Eve steers it with no problem, rubbing Gillian’s shoulders and making her drink more out of that flask. “Warm your bones, no freezing allowed.”

No she wouldn't lose her. Eve was tethered to her just as Gillian was tethered to her. Even when knocked out of orbit they found their way back to each other. The sign of a real friendship? The seer was already putting together her plan of action for the next time her best friend would need her help. Because good friends were prepared and Eve was that, a good friend.

What are friends for, if not to save you?

“Thank you, Eve,” Gillian whispers into the night. She’ll feel better once she sees her daughter again, but for now— she’s safe. Thanks to an old friend.

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