Participants:
| Scene Title | No Roadmap |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | On Christmas Eve, on the eve of the Ferry's exodus to Canada, Jolene discovers where the map ends. |
| Date | December 24, 2011 |
Rochester, NY
Christmas time is usually filled with laughter , warm fuzzy times, kisses under mistletoe and you make the kind of memories that you’d want to relive forever. The mood of Christmas Eve this year is subdued though, and for good reason. There are no lights, there are no carolers, there aren't any little elves working to bring a grand celebration forth. This evening is lit by the stars though. And that should offer some sort of comfort.
Secluded away in the Monroe County National Park a group of survivors have been licking their wounds. Physical and emotional, the scales balanced currently. People are hurting just as hard emotionally as they are physically.
There's a cold chill and a layer of snow has fallen over the area. The cabin that they have commandeered is a good size for the group though nobody has the luxury of having their own room unless you were gravely injured. So many of the occupants had taken to fleeing to the outdoors, cold or not. Being able to be just with your thoughts could be healthy.
But being surrounded by friends could be a remedy as well.
There's a whistle that pierces the air, owls hoot in kind. A feral cat yowls in the distance but once the echo of the whistle fades away the animal sounds fade with it there is silence, save for a crunching sound as boots crush snow as someone walks.
A pale figure, paler in this winter cold then her Italian roots would suggest walks in from the surrounding forest. Clad in a long black trench coat. Her usual dress of battle dresses and the occasion vambrace has been substituted at the urging of Gillian for a warmer and more appropriate wardrobe. A dark grey sweater that falls to her knees, black pants that are tucked into her black combat boots. Her ever present messenger bag bounces on her hip a multitude of items can be heard clinking around in there.
Eve Mas sings softly to herself, the words inaudible. Her raven mess of curls free and cascading down her back as she makes her way up to the steps leading to the big porch. Her light gray eyes not on the path ahead of her but up towards the stars. They are so very pretty tonight.
“Beautiful isn't it?”
Mad as she is, she isn't talking to herself. In the shadow of the porch, bundled in a heavy winter coat, Jolene Petrelli looks as much like her mother as she does her father in the moment. Her dyed red haired is hidden beneath a winter cap, face partly hidden by a canary yellow wool scarf. She doesn't respond to Eve, not verbally at least. But she does offer a nod, and a loud sniffle as she wipes at her puffy, red eyes with her scarf.
The two share a quiet moment, out there under the starlight. Taking in a deep breath through her nose, Jolene exhales it in a rattling breath followed by a heavy cough. Sometime since their flight to freedom she'd picked up a cold, and though everyone tells her it isn't H5N10, she can't help but shake the fear it might be. She's been afraid a lot lately.
“Hi, Eve.” Lene’s voice is small, burdened by whatever emotions hang heavy on her face. Eve’s been around long enough to see that look in both of the girl’s parents. Never at the same time, and never together. Lene exists in a form of paradox, a girl whose parents were destined to never be together. At least not here, not now, and certainly not on Christmas.
Green eyes drift to look at Eve, and Lene manages a small but smile as she plucks at the hem of her jacket, winds fingers in her scarf fabric. Anything to keep her gloved hands from being idle. Anything but stillness.
The seeress peers down at the daughter that would never be, not in this world. She's the perfect mix of the two of them. It's a little off putting, the tones of voice. Eve thought that Gillian and Peter were deeply emotional people. Their daughter was no different and that warmed Eve’s heart as well as saddened it. It could be a burden. Gray eyes meet the greens one and she comes to sit down next to the young woman.
“Hey Chicken,” Eve’s eyes squint as she lays a pale hand on the other woman’s knee and gives a gentle squeeze. She looks off ahead of them and returns her hand to her lap. Tapping her fingers she shivers a bit from the cold and rubs her knees with her hands, her fingers usually stained in paints or blood are clean today.
“You're sick, we need to get you soup.” She frowns at her best friends daughter her look of concern and she knows that look also and the red puffy eyes that she has.
The older woman’s wine colored lips are pressed into a thin tight line. “I have to say Chicken…” she stops as she tries to think of the words to say, how to say the least but crazy.. “The whispers talk loud, it can make me confused. My dreams…” her hand shakes but she smiles weakly at Lene, “They can be hard to tell the difference from what's… real?” She has a theory on reality and her dreams but Eve would have to be stoned to give it accurately. “I'm sorry if I scared you back there, at the Ark. Your aunt and I, we… well we use to do some pretty.. things would boom and there was lots of chaos.” She's trying to stick to the point but she's nervous. Eve’s not sure she's ready to be an Auntie, what if she ruins it?
“Your father was very much… keeping me in line. EVE.” She does an impression of Peter, “Don't touch that,” she wags her finger in front of her with a squint of her eye. “He made sure I was breaking things. Your mother makes sure I'm not broken.” Talking of Peter brings a quiver to her lips and she's sure that it's more of the thought of what happened to Peter than the cold they are sitting in. She's been cold for a while now. Numb.
What Eve says is a lot for Lene to take in. A lot of words, a lot of history, a lot of things she never rightly knew about the seer. “I never knew him…” Lene says in a small voice, eyes downcast to her feet. Brows knit together in a stressed expression, she looks over to Eve with a partly hidden smile behind her scarf.
For a moment it's like she's going to say something, but then instead she looks down to her feet and leans against the porch railing. As she looks over to Eve again, there's a pensiveness in Lene’s expression. “Eve?” She seems younger in the moment, quieter in ways a small child can be. “Were…” she looks down to her feet. “Did my mom and dad love each other?”
Plucking at the sleeves of her jacket, Jolene doesn't look as though she wants to personally face that answer. And yet, she lets the question hang heavy in the air.
The older woman takes a moment, looking off to the side as she contemplates Lene’s question. Her brow furrows as Eve leans her back against the railing and turns her gaze back over to the young woman. “Fiercely.” She reaches out a hand to grab Lene’s and squeezes gently. “Just because they didn't last together doesn't mean there wasn't love, the dice didn't land the way they wanted. And look what became of that love.” Touching Lene’s chin with pale finger giving her a soft smile. The seeress is taken aback that Lene never got to meet Peter or know him.
“Your father,” her lip quivers as she thinks of her friend, squaring her shoulders. “He was a loyal friend… I met him beneath the Ruins of Midtown years ago, he was afraid… defensive… too many people pulling his brain in different directions. His own family, the Company, Kazimir, manipulated and pushed through mazes. A mosaic, he was unique. Just like you.” She tells Lene this because she must know who her father was. What kind of man he was. And Lene deserves to know.
“When I see you, I see him. And all the good that people refused to look for. I see his smile.” Moisture gathers and falls from Eve’s eyes. “I could not dream of that day.. if I had..” she chokes back a sob and squeezes Lene’s hand. “I'm sorry Chicken, I failed my friend.”
Scrubbing a hand at her mouth, Jolene shakes her head. “You can’t save everyone,” has multiple meaning to it coming from her. As she looks over at Eve, Jolene leans forward and grips the porch railing tightly with both hands. “I had a chance to see him… you know.” Green eyes track to Eve, and Jolene looks markedly serious. “I had Walter’s power. Could’ve… gone back in time, said something, talked to him.”
Lene closes her eyes, legs her head hang, and slouches against the railing. “I’m scared, Eve.” She says in a tiny voice. “I’m scared we didn’t change enough. Cardinal was never the problem in our world, he was a symptom of it. The Department of Evolved Affairs…” she swallows, lips curling into a frown. “Did we come back for nothing?” Her green eyes open, settle on Eve, and there’s desperate need for approval in them.
“Maybe you were afraid that he wouldn't be what you wanted him to be.” Eve muses as she takes Lene seriously. Yes it's dangerous to go back in time but when it's your father you never met and you have the chance too.. the darker haired woman shakes her head. “Might have been good you didn't, I wouldn't have told anyway.” Eve let's that hang in the air. She will keep Lene’s secrets.
As Lene expresses her fears and regrets Eve cants her head and stares intently at the young woman. “You made your choice, stand by it. You had to try something right?” She is offering comfort, her hand shaking as she squeezes Lene’s.
There are lectures Lene could get about time not running straight forward and what not but that is clearly evident to Lene so, “Some people say my dreams make things worse instead of helping,” Eve bites the bottom of her lip. “Too erratic, unreliable, the future isn't set in stone. Time is not a line.” She snorts and waves her hands. “I wish that what I see didn't come true,” but it often does.
“Time is a labyrinth. Something in constant flow and motion, a river but she responds when we try to change her,” Eve grows passionate as she stares into Lene’s green eyes. “How could you know that you were stepping into another river? How could you know what one fallen pebble would cause? I've been dreaming the future for over a decade now and I still don't always get it right.” And it amuses her that anyone thinks that they that do.. especially when she thinks it. “You don't map it, you don't.. steer your own course inside it.. you just float. Or she smacks you right in the nose.” Eve looks sad as she stares at Lene. “Maybe my visions are not something that should be entertained.. then your mother wouldn't be here.. so many people. Whose to really say?”
“You came for something. You shifted our course, you and your friends. Have faith that it is a better future than the one you are from. Your father would be proud that his daughter tried her best to make this world a better place.”
That admission at the very end breaks Lene’s heart, breaks it in ways it hadn’t quite ever been broken before. She nods, soundlessly, one hand cupped to her mouth and eyes closed. She exhales a whining, ragged sob and nods again, as if to say this is fine. But it isn’t, and it won’t ever be. Embarrassed by her emotions, Lene brings her gloved hands up to her face and wipes at her eyes, exhaling a shuddering breath before swallowing loudly and nodding yet another time.
“Thanks.” Lene says, but doesn’t entirely mean. She hasn’t finished composing herself yet, might not ever, because the wounds suffered between tomorrow and today are so devastatingly deep. She’s been emotionally bleeding out for years, but it’s only now finally caught up to her.
A pale hand goes to Lene’s shoulder. She grips it with a tight sad smile. Eve sits in silence and she hums softly, a comforting tune as Lene cries. The emotion is nothing to be embarrassed about because the older woman starts to cry more openly herself. Her hum interrupted by the consistent sniffs.
“You got it kiddo.” She rubs Lene’s shoulder and sits with her. Staring at that face, even when she cries she looks like them. A perfect split, Jolene makes Eve believe in miracles. She's a wonder to witness. “You are a wonder to witness my dear.” She says softly echoing her thoughts.
“I'll make this offer. I have many stories for you. Of your father and your mother,” for the things that Gillian can't or wouldn't tell Lene that the young woman might need to know. “You ask me whenever you like. They aren't all sad.”
This causes a thought to strike her and she blinks, “I never told you any stories where you're from?”
She'd have to admit. The oracle hasn't really ever.. wondered or asked about the other her.
Lene is silent for a while, feeling the pricking of cold air on her cheeks. One deep breath is exhaled as a visible sigh, steam guttering in gentle wind before being blown apart and disappearing from sight. Looking over to Eve, though, Lene looks troubled. Letting her eyes dip down to the railing, then sweeping her stare past that to the ground below the porch, she’s awkwardly silent.
“I never knew you,” Lene says, and then feels the need to clarify. “I— never heard your name, until I was here. I don’t…” she can’t bring herself to say it. Not after the last month. “I don’t think you were in New York anymore.” It’s the diplomatic way to suggest someone is dead. Green eyes wander back to Eve, and Lene’s expression is visibly apologetic.
“I’m sorry, it’s— I appreciate the offer.” Lene remarks of the stories. “But, I just… that’s all I ever had of them when I was growing up, too. My mom died when I was young, was raised by foster parents who cared immensely for me. Just…” closing her eyes, Lene slouches down against the railing again. “I’d hoped for something more personal.”
Hearing that you're dead in another timeline has an odd effect on Eve, she laughs. “Well maybe you were meant to meet the me that's here.” she waves a hand and looks at the younger woman square in the eyes. “Don't you worry Chicken,” Eve isn't really bothered by that. She thinks about just how dangerous life was for Lene growing up and she gets a frown on her face.
When hearing Lene’s words the seer nods her head a bit and looks out and over across the way before them. A gentle breeze ruffles her hair and she tilts her head. “You are right, stories are just stories.” But unless they went and traveled back in time again there wasn't any way for Lene to get anything but stories.
“I had hoped… that the three of you would find a way to be together here.” Eve looks regretful, there just wasn't enough time. “At least you have Gilly… she won't ever leave you. Ever.” Eve doesn't need to see the future to know that.
Lene exhales a slow sigh, nodding once as she looks over at Eve. “I don't know what's coming,” she says in a small voice, “what's waiting for us on the other side of that lake, the hill after that…” her eyes go distant, and she’s staring up into the darkness of the night sky.
“For the first time, there's no road map. I… I don't know what the future will bring.” Lene levels green eyes on Eve, “and I'm happy with that.” Her smile, while nervous, is a genuine one. “I've got my mother, my brothers and sisters I came back with…”
Closing her eyes, Lene feels the cold wind on her cheeks. “Thanks, Eve.” The pause there is a long one, and Jolene realizes that while she was thinking of the failures of her past and the world she'd left behind, Eve was already showing her something else.
“Thanks for showing me my future.”