One Ring To Rule Them All


adam_icon.gif zoe_icon.gif

Scene Title One Ring To Rule Them All
Synopsis Once again, Adam finds Zoe. This time, he gives her a bit of insight into his past.
Date April 24, 2009


The pulsing beat of bass throbs through the walls of Rapture, a high-class nightclub in the heart of Harlem. Rows of expensive cars line up out front of the exclusive club and a crowd of would-be patrons wait outside, cherry-picked by the bouncers to have only the cream of the crop on the interior, while leaving just enough eye-candy outside to entice other patrons. The club serves as a respite for the trendy and the influential from the grind of daily life.

On the inside, Rapture is as much a spectacle as it is a structure. Multiple dance floors in tiered balconies overlooking an enormous central dance floor ringed by plush leather-upholstered booths. Pale blue light shines on the wrap-around bar that curved around the back of the establishment, and the entire building is filled floor-to-floor and shoulder-to-shoulder with the pulsing, flowing sea of people dancing to the rythmic beats of electronic dance music piped through the expansive sound-system.

Rapture is a difficult club to get into on the prime nights, but fortunately, this evening isn't one of those. And even then, sometimes there's a list. Shockingly somehow, Zoe is on it. Of course, Rapture is managed by a Linderman associate, and it stands to reason that where Linderman's name is somewhere on the paperwork - at least as far as legit businesses are concerned - Zoe will have access.

She's presently at the bar, her clothes a little out of touch for a club - a dress and sweater that actually make her look a bit frumpy. She's got a fruity looking drink in front of her, and absently pushes her glasses up her nose as she sits. She doesn't seem to be trolling so much as people watching.

Adam enters into the club. It really wasn't that hard, he /looks/ like he belongs, and his charisma and money at the door didn't hurt either. At any rate, he makes his way into the place, considering the decor, occasionally swaying to this beat or that. Deciding he needs to wet his whistle, he makes his way towards the bar and after a moment's pause, leans into it to give the bartender a particularly captivating smile and gets himself a jack and coke. As he leans back and surveys the landscape, his eyes fall on a frumpily dressed woman of some familiarity. He looks thoughtful and then slides across the bar slowly until he's brought closer to her. "Kind of dead in here tonight, Zoe."

Zoe starts to reply - her forebrain probably processed him as an entirely different person until she sees him and doubletakes. "Ohmygod, it's you." A hand goes to her chest, and she looks around in confusion. "What are you doing here?" He actually knows her name? He actually remembers her? She pushes her glasses up her nose a bit nervously.

Adam mms a bit, a devilish smile appearing on his lips. For a moment, one might almost call him the spider or the big bad wolf. At any rate, he slips his hand around his drink and says, "Would you believe I was looking for you?" he asks querilously. He pauses, "I realize I was a bit short with you last time, but you have to understand, I was under a lot of stress."

"Doing what?" she asks, blinking owlishly. She leans back in her seat to regard him. "What is it you think I can do for you, Adam Monroe?" Yes, she knows who he is. She told him as much. But she is perhaps less naive than the last time they spoke with each other.

Adam tilts his head towards one side as he considers the question, "Actually…" he says, "One might say you are the world's leading expert in…me." he arches a brow for a moment, "So it should come of no surprise that I'm interested in your work…it's so rarely one becomes the subject of continuous study."

"You already know all there is to know about you." she says with a faintly nervous smile. She reaches for her drink, takes a sip. "So I'm still not sure why you need me."

Adam considers with a nod, "That might actually be a big assumption on your part. A man can forget things over the years…" he pauses for some moments, "But you know, I'm more curious in how I might help you. You seem like a sweet girl Zoe, buried in my relics.." he pauses, "Do you think they're still mine by some right? I mean, Daniel bought them up, but since I'm not dead…are they mine?" he shakes his head, then looks back to the girl, "What do you want to know about me?"

Zoe cocks her head. "I'm not going to just giggle at you like some overcome teenybopper and give you things from Daniel's archive." she says straightforwardly. "You can talk to him about it if there are things you want back." Then, looking at her drink, "I already know quite a lot. We lose track around the turn of the twentieth century."

Adam mms, "There's nothing I really want, unless you still have my sword." he says simply. He pauses, "But I suspect that's already gone from the archive." he lets out a bit of a sigh, muttering under his breath about a thief. He then turns back, and studies the girl quietly, "You do more than study, yeah? You intimated it to me, but you didn't say it."

"Hiro Nakamura stole it a long time ago. I wasn't in charge of the Vegas archive." Zoe says quietly. "I'm the curator for the New York archive. And my ability ties into the past."

Adam shakes his head a bit, "That bloody boy is a bit of a monster." he doesn't wait for a response. Instead, he slips his hand into his shirt and pulls out a necklace with a bunch of rings on it. He pauses carefully, opening the clasp and sorts slowly through the rings. He tilts his head and takes one out, "Turn of the twentieth century." and presses it almost forcefully in your palm, "Her name was Diane." whether you knew that already or not.

Forcefully pushed into her hand, the unexpected object carries great resonance, and certainly falls within Zoe's capability to read. Quite unexpectedly, her close, and when they open again, they're completely silver, no irises or corneas visible. Her head tilts like she's watching something. "It was so cold." she murmurs. "You tried to hard to keep her warm, to keep food on the table, but the weather was so bad and her lungs had filled up and every time she breathed you could hear it rattling in her lungs…"

Adam is quiet. Not having been sure, but certainly suspecting, he nods. Some of these rings might not tell such flattering stories, but women seem to like the stories where love conquers all. He leans back and waits for the whole reading to be over. He even takes a sip of the jack and coke, apparently less moved by the nostalgia than he seems to hope Zoe is.

"…and you saved her." Zoe's fingers are kept open, but even as she lapses silent, she seems unable to pull herself out of the trance. Likely since she's still in contact with the item, she's unable to pull herself back into the now.

Adam lets her feel the feelings. He had loved Diane, or so much as he had been able to, and he's wondering how well those feelings transfer. He pauses and then after a few moments, he takes the ring from her hand and then carefully slips it back onto the necklace. He's quiet as he clasps it shut and then puts it over his his neck and tucks it into his shirt, "So, there you are. I went to Canada." he intones quietly, almost solemnly.

Zoe takes a breath, once more her eyes flutter, and they return to normal behind her glasses. "Montreal." she nods. "She used to make you pancakes and she'd mix blueberries in them." It's a little scary, the minute details Zoe can recall from simply holding the ring. "But I'm still not sure what you want from me. I'm nobody special. All I can do is give you trips down memory lane."

Adam smiles lightly, "Perhaps, Zoe, having someone seeing my past will help steady me for the future." he leans over and touches her hand gently, squeezing it even, "I'm glad I ran into you. Perhaps sometime, you'll let me run into you again." and with that, he flips up his collar and walks into the crowd, making his way towards the exit of the club.

Zoe is visibly shocked, her mouth opening without any sound coming out as she watches the immortal make his exit from the club. Shutting her mouth, she turns and says wearily to the bartender, "Rob Roy, please. Double the voddie? And a swizzle stick." For some reason, she feels the need to drink.

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