Participants:
| Scene Title | Mother Hen Nun You Are Not |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Making good on one owed favour to Samson, Odessa Price tracks down an aerokinetic — Thalia Ashford. |
| Date | November 29, 2010 |
Solstice Condominiums - Thalia Ashford's Residence
She hasn't been home in weeks.
So today is relaxing night for Thalia. Some soft rock plays throughout the home as she lays back on her couch and stares up at the ceiling. Dressed in a pair of short grey sweat shorts and a white tank top, the air in the room swirls as Thalia plays with her ability and nudges her foot up and down.
Her hair is sprawled out around her and she stares lazily around. It's been shoot this, kill that. She's just trying to relax for once. Nobody knows she's home. She hasn't spoken to many people at all since the whole riots. Except for that hot blonde she hooked up with. Whatever his name is.
Access to the Registry has it perks. It means Odessa can easily just type an ability into a computer, and find anyone that professes to possess it. Easy as pie.
It's unfortunately equally easy for Odessa's searches to get traced back to her. She's no fool about how these things work. And so before resorting to the convenient technology at her fingertips, she racks her brains, trying to remember anyone who would have the ability she's looking for.
Anybody she doesn't care a bit about, that is.
It was somewhere between waking and sleep that it came to her. The second co-owner of Old Lucy's. Odessa never had the pleasure of meeting Thalia Ashford in person, but the stories of her temper, what would happen when she would lose it are enough to draw her to Solstice Condominiums.
Odessa spent what most would deem an excessive length of time in front of the mirror, applying foundation, concealer, bronzer, complexion perfecting powder, and rouge to minimise the appearance of the scars that pit her face. Making herself look as unimposing, unassuming as possible.
When she approaches Thalia's door, it's in a red bustier over a black tank top, with a black tiered skirt, one of the ruffled edges having separated from the rest of the skirt and hanging awkwardly. It leaves a bit of her right thigh visible, halfway between hip and knee. A ratty black backpack is clutched tightly by the loop at the top one would hang from a coat hook in a locker.
Thick black kohl lines both eyes, one deep blue and the other knotted scar tissue, smudged from brushes of fingers and maybe tears. Her lips are pale, bloodless and Odessa's shivering from the cold when she brings her hand up to knock on Thalia's door. She bounces restlessly on the balls of her feet, clad in black Converse hightops without socks.
At the sound of the door being knocked on. Thalia jumps up and her eyebrows raise. When she says that nobody knows where she is.. that means nobody. She didn't trust anyone with the information of where she lives, that doesn't mean people couldn't have found out. Feet bare, she doesn't tell the person on the other side just a minute. Instead, she reaches under the cushions of the couch and grabs the pistol that she keeps there.
Padding softly over to the door, she slips her feet in the combat boots that lay by the door, not bothering to lace them up. She gathers the wind around her in a tight ball by her shoulder. Ready for anything, being a terrorist makes you a paranoid person.
Whipping the door open, the aerokinetic blinks and tilts her head.. "What." She says, eyes narrowed dangerously towards the doctor. Thal doesn't trust visitors. Not at all. The gun is hidden behind her back and she looks Odessa up and down. Cute outfit. Horrible shoes. Eyebrows raise as the temptress assesses the danger level of Odessa: Undetermined.
"Are- Are you Thalia? M- My name is Gale. I- I- I didn't know where else to go." Odessa's voice trembles, and she looks as though she might be ready to turn on her (flat) heels and flee from the look she's receiving from the darker haired woman. "I used to… Work at the bar. And I heard… stories." Her voice drops to the softest of whispers, "About your ability." She then glances left and right to make sure she wasn't overheard before looking imploringly back at Thalia. "I'm in real trouble. Please, can I come in?"
"Excuse me?" Thalia's eyes narrow even more if that's possible and she shakes her head at the woman. "What the fuck are you talking about?" she doesn't know who she Gale is, she doesn't remember every single girl that worked at the bar, so who is she to say that Gale isn't.. Gale?
"What sort of trouble are you in?" she closes the door even more, blocking the way in, they'll talk outside. The young mechanic eyes Odessa/Gale? "I don't know you or trust you. So we'll talk outside." She shrugs it off lightly. It's nothing personal, but times are hard girl.
Thalia's eyes flicker sliver as she holds onto the reigns of the wind gathered around her. Not sure whether she should use it or not.
"You… Is it true what they said? Please, the government has been looking for me." Tears well up in Odessa's eyes. "They had me locked up in Moab." She's expecting the name to mean something to the woman she's pleading with. "I used to be pretty, like you. Look at what they did to me." She's close to sobbing right there on Thalia's doorstep when she indicates her face. Even with the make-up she's caked onto it, she just can't hide that many scars. Especially not with the severity of most of them.
"Is it true? Is it true you control the wind? Can you help me?" Odessa lifts her free hand to rub her thumb under her eye, leaving a black smudge on her prominent cheek bones.
"Did you know Isabelle?" she asks with a tilt of her head. That's all she wants to know. Thalia moves and let's Odessa enter the home. The scars don't phase her. She doesn't really care at all. When she shuts the door, she quickly cocks and points the gun at Odessa's knees. "Talk, and talk now. Why are they after you now? What have you done and why do you want me to help you?"
The former bartender smiles dangerously and her eyes glow a hot silver color. Ready to use her ability if she needs too. "Don't lie to me. I'll shoot your kneecaps out and suffocate you without moving any closer than this." She means it and even though she didn't answer the question about her ability. That threat should have answered her question.
"Your fault, you keep your head down when get out of somewhere like Moab." Add that to the fact that she didn't know her sister.. then she's really not feeling this girl. "Sit down and shut up." She says as she sighs and keeps the gun pointed at the girl. "I'm sorry for your pain and your trouble." She tells the other woman and then she's rubbing her forehead with her free hand.
Regarding the girl with a cool stare. "How am I suppose to help you?" Thalia growls out and her body shakes. She's been itching to hurt someone. And this chick is making her itch harder not to scratch. "I'm not your guardian. You don't know me. Go to Abby, she has a bakery. Ask her for help." Thalia opens the door again and points towards it. "Get."
Odessa makes her way toward the door slowly. "Abby's gone. I didn't know where else to go." She lowers her arms to her sides and pulls one strap of her backpack over her shoulder, clutching it for dear life. "Is it true, though? Can… Can I see it? I heard the stories that the wind would pick up in the bar. That shouldn't… shouldn't happen. Can you really do that?" She's in awe of the darker woman. Of what she supposedly can do. "I…If I was followed here, I want to know you can take care of yourself, too. A gun won't save you from these people."
"I'm not the Mother Hen Nun. I'm sorry." Thalia shrugs at Odessa and waves her gun towards the door. Growing impatient, she shuts the door. And walks into the middle of the room. Odessa would feel the air in the room tighten and then cut off. Her eyes blazing a hot silver glow and she tilts her head.
A murderous expression crosses her face as she crosses over and pick takes Odessa's arm. Thalia seems to be breathing just fine and she's dragging Odessa by her arm and throwing her out of the home. Where Odessa would finally have access to air again.
"Don't come back." She says softly and her expression says it all. She'll kill Odessa if she does. With a sad shake of her head, she kicks the door shut and soon the soft rock music is roaring through her home. Time to get back to relaxing.
That's exactly what Odessa was waiting for.
Confirmation.
Thalia drags Odessa to the doorway and throws her out into the cold. But when she turns back around after slamming the door shut with a kick, there stands little Gale not looking so frightened anymore. "Mother Hen Nun you are not," she muses with a grin.
Though she didn't see it happen, Thalia can feel the ache in her neck caused by the prick of a needle. The drowsiness follows it in short order.
"Right." Thalia grins lazily as she slumps against the wall and holds her neck. Her eyes flutter, but the wind builds until everything in the hall and her home is flying around. Hold on to your hat Dessa. This bitch is wild.
It lasts for a few seconds before the drugs fully kick in and Thal falls unconscious. "I..Izzy.." she breathes before she is finally out. The wind dies down and then is still.
Odessa stands perfectly still, the aerokinetically generated wind whipping her stark white hair about her face. She just watches Thalia fall to the floor, grinning as she loses consciousness, and the indoor gust subsides.
It's quiet for a long moment before Odessa finally takes a deep breath. "Well! That's done, then." She opens a small pouch on her bag and pulls on a pair of shoe covers over the soles of her hightops. The zipper to the rest of the bag is dragged from one end to the other. First, she drags out a folded red wool pea coat, then produces a black trash bag, and a large white plastic tarp, laying it out over Thalia's kitchen floor.
The unconscious woman on the floor is slapped roughly across the face once, an assurance that the dosage was correct for the girl's frame. Honestly, Doctor Price is sure she loaded Thalia up with more than enough sedatives and pain inhibitors. A stallion would sleep for a week. "Up we go," Odessa sing-songs as she reaches under Thalia's arms and drags her to the kitchen and the tarp laid out. "Theeeeere we go," she murmurs as she makes sure she's positioned perfectly. "Don't worry, dear. You won't know what's happened to you."
Bitch.
Odessa again reaches into her back pack, this time procuring a pair of purple surgical gloves, pulling them on, latex snapping around her wrists. Next is a large jar, almost like an oversized Mason jar, full of fluid. The top is removed and set aside carefully on the tarp.
Then her surgical kit comes out.
The skin of Thalia's forehead parts easily beneath the wickedly sharp blade. Getting through her skull is no problem. Doctor Price came prepared for this brand of surgery.
The sight of her prize, glistening red and still living draws an appreciative gasp from Odessa. "Your ability will be put to good use," she murmurs assuringly, stroking a finger lovingly over the grey matter. "If there is an afterlife… I hope your sister is waiting for you."
Brain is separated from body with cold efficiency. This isn't the first time Odessa has done this. Thalia Ashford's brain is oh-so-carefully carried to the sink. She stands in the glistening pool of red blood that's spilled out over the tarp and made its way toward the sink. Brilliant crimson and pink swirls and flows down the drain. Then, the precious thing is submerged in the preserving fluid of the jar. The gloves are tossed into the trash bag before the lid is replaced on the jar, and the jar is placed into the backpack once more, it having taken the bulk of the room inside.
Odessa's tools are washed up in the sink, more blood disappearing into the drain. The sink is bleached. And finally, Thalia's body is eyed. "You have been most helpful."
She lifts one foot, pulling off the cover on that shoe, setting it on clean floor rather than bloody tarp, and repeats the process with the other foot. The covers join the trash bag. A new pair of gloves is pulled form the smaller pouch on the pack. Carefully, Thalia's body is wrapped tightly in the tarp, but left to lay on her kitchen floor.
Gloves are removed, thrown into the trash bag. Black plastic ends are tied off and stuffed into the backpack, which is then zipped closed. Red wool is pulled over bare arms, toggle buttons fastened, and hair pulled free of the collar.
"So ends the pitiable life of Thalia Ashford," Odessa muses, feeling poetic. "But her legacy lives on." The backpack's straps are pulled up and over her shoulders and with a wave of her arms, time stands still and the merry murderess makes her way out of Solstice Condominiums, back onto the streets of New York.
Unhindered, and unobserved.
