Participants:
| Scene Title | Perchance to Dreamwalk |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | It's a pipe dream that has Delia visiting Tasha… A dangerous favor in the eye of the beholder. |
| Date | October 17, 2010 |
Gun Hill — Colette, Tasha, and Tamara's Apartment
Unfamiliar music drifts under the door and out into the hallway as Delia makes her way down the stairs. It's still fairly early in the morning, just about the time that church folk would be going, all except for Delia. Pausing for a few minutes at Tasha's door, she attempts to place whatever band that is, try as she might… she can't. She's a hip hop girl, top forty, someone that could recite every lyric to Lady Gaga but couldn't place a Beatles tune for the life of her.
After a few minutes, the redhead just takes a deep breath and then knocks softly three times. She hasn't done much visiting with Tasha since she brought cookies, so the guilt of not sending a card or calling, or even coming down with a plate of whatever Jaiden has made weighs on her. Speaking of which… she forgot to bring anything now. "Crap…"
At first it might seem Tasha didn't hear the knock — it's a long moment before the door swings open, and Tasha stands on the other side. The reason for the slow arrival is probably apparent — she has paint smudged on her nose and on her fingers and on the Captain Hook t-shirt she wears with a pair of Colette's cargo shorts. Her feet are bare and paint speckled as well.
"Delia! Hi! You wanna come in or are you just coming to borrow a cup of sugar or whatever it is neighbors do?" the petite teen asks, a wide grin spreading itself across her face. She's not wearing a scarf around her neck today, and a fine horizontal scar, surrounded by pinker, uneven scar tissue, is visible on her thin throat.
There's a nervous smile from the redhead as she steps inside the apartment and shakes her head. "No, my boyfriend bought me enough groceries to last a year… Well not really, my sister eats like a pig so it'll probably be gone soon." The smile brightens as she eyes the teen and her nose wrinkles a little, "This is going to sound stupid… but you're painting, right?"
She doesn't say anything about the scar.
"Can I see? Or is it the same one that you were doing before?" Walking into the apartment is a vast difference from her own. There's furniture, stuff on the walls, color… her jaw drops and she breathes out a long breath of a sigh at the sight of it all. "Your place is nice, really nice. I … woooowwww." The real reason she's here is forgotten for a while.
The younger girl flushes with some pride as her apartment is complimented. She turns to glance at it from an outsider's view — certainly not neat, with a pair of shoes haphazardly kicked off near the couch, books all over the coffee table, a coffee cup and a Dr Pepper can littering the end tables, a pile of video game and CD cases in front of the television. But it's painted and decorated in reds and browns and blacks, matching rugs on the hardwood floors to help warm up the apartment and make it look less generic.
"Thanks! We worked hard on it, Colette and Tam and me. And yeah, I usually am painting, it seems!" Tasha says brightly, closing the door behind her. She nods toward the dining room area that's just to her right; the small four-person table is covered by a sheet, paints and paintbrushes and other art supplies all over it. An easel in the corner shows a painting — a dark blue silhouette of a man navigating a raft, some huddled figures crouched below where he stands. The waters beneath a softer blue, and a cityscape in blacks and reds beyond. "I probably shouldn't turn that one in, but they image was stuck in my head," Tasha says with a shrug.
She turns to look at Delia. "If you want me to help you with your apartment, I can! I mean, we painted all of them like, standard eggshell white or whatever, 'cause like, we didn't know who'd be using them and stuff, but I can make it more interesting!"
Delia's eyebrows twitch a little toward the center and she shakes her head once, "I'm uhm… I'm not doing anything right now. Not until I know what's going to happen." Chewing on her lower lip, she glances toward the couch and turns her eyebrows up at the inner edges. "Can I… Can I sit down?"
Her eyes catch on the painting and widen a little bit as a shiver crawls down her spine. "From the visions?" The words are blurted out before she has time to think about what she's saying. She's not like her father, she doesn't play things close to the vest (or whatever it is he says). "I mean, uhm… from the visions in June, it looks like some of the things that people saw."
Tasha too shivers a little when Delia mentions visions and she shakes her head. "No… I mean, I didn't see that, no. I just kinda… I guess maybe it's inspired from there. I just got the image in my head. I don't think anyone's gonna be on a raft like that, anyway, that's more out of maybe Huck Finn or something than modern day Manhattan."
She nods toward the couch and heads that way. "You want some coffee, soda, anything? Is something wrong? It's cool if you're just here to say hi, but you look a little nervous." She perches on the arm of the loveseat.
Her eyes are still fixed on the painting as the tall young woman finds a comfortable spot on the loveseat. One hand rakes into her curly hair, pushing it back and then tucking a bit behind her ear. "I'm — Well it's about the visions, actually. I talked to a woman last night, Eileen?" She's assuming the teen knows who she's talking about, indicated strongly by the tone she uses when speaking the woman's name. "She came to my apartment… but… I want to make sure that one of them doesn't come true."
There's a slight pause before Delia clears her throat and glances off to the side, "Something in my vision happened before my vision… I know it doesn't make sense. At all. But I want to stop it." Her eyes are a little wider now as she looks back up at Tasha. The teen having perched on the arm opposite the one the redhead's leaning against, is a little taller.
Nodding at Eileen, Tasha tilts her head to listen, bringing her coffee cup to her lips to take a sip. Her eyes are guarded at the talk of visions — her own vision kept quiet, since Colette's told people what she's seen, and Tasha saw the same so there is no reason for her to talk about it. She swallows and leans to set the coffee cup down on the table.
"Okay. No, that makes sense. I mean, obviously something happened before what we all saw, we just saw a moment, and something led up to that moment," she says quietly. It's the something that led up to the moment in her vision that worries her — how did Colette come to be stabbed? Accident? Deliberately? "So what did you see? How can… I mean, how can I help? Did Eileen tell you I could help?"
"In mine, there's a woman I know, I used to work with her. She got shot. I thought, at first, that if I just stayed away from Red Hook, or the boats, that maybe it wouldn't happen. But… maybe then I wouldn't be nearby to help her out, you know?" Delia chews on her lip again and grimaces in distaste at her own words, "Anyway, I have to be there, as much as I don't want to be. But she got shot trying to protect kids that were being shot at. After seeing something in another woman's dream… I think maybe it's the orphans at the Lighthouse. So I want to see about moving them before anything ever happens."
The young woman grows silent for a moment, flitting her gaze back at the painting again. "I talked to Eileen about that last night, she said that the orphans are watched too closely because of all the media attention. They're going to be in a lot of trouble if they're around in November… If I wasn't scared to death about being arrested, I'd march right into Mister Lazzaro's office and ask a favor… but he might have it in for me. So I need to find out where he sleeps, so I can visit him there."
Tasha's brows furrow as Delia talks about the orphanage kids — she lived with them, she took care of them, she even brought Paul from Boston. They're like little brothers and sisters to her in some ways. If they're in danger —
"Wait — your vision took place in Red Hook? Why would the kids be there?" she asks, but then Delia's last comment finally registers and she pales. "What exactly do you want to ask Lazzaro?" she says, voice softer and trying very hard to be neutral, though her eyes glance down at the coffee table, averting her gaze from Delia's blue one.
"I don't know if they're going to be leaving from Red Hook or from Staten Island, I'm in Red Hook when I see Kaylee. Eileen told me that he might be able to get the DEoA to look the other way while they get moved. If what I saw in that dream was a vision and it comes true, the orphanage is going to get raided that morning. The radio report said that they'll find weapons and Refrain… and unregistered kids hooked on it." Delia's hands come down between her knees and she laces her fingers tightly together. Her eyes are also on the coffee table, not on Tasha or her coffee anymore.
Picking at one of her cuticles, the young woman lets loose a very long sigh. "Eileen said he could get the DEoA to look the other way long enough to get them moved. I just wanted to see if he would… if I show him what I saw."
"There's weapons there, I know — but I … why would there be Refrain? I don't — it must be a lie, the report on the radio," Tasha says with a shake of her head, running her hands through the ragged layers.
She gets up from her perch on the arm of the loveseat, moving toward the slider that leads out to the fire escape slash balcony. "I can't. I can't tell you where he lives, Delia. I can … I can ask him maybe, have him meet with you or something, but please, don't ask me to tell you where he lives," she says, her voice quiet, almost a whisper, some of her words perhaps lost due to the fact her back is to the redhead on the couch. "I'm sorry. You can tell Eileen I said no, if you have to, and I'll deal with it. Or let me try and talk to him, and I'll try to get him to listen to me, but…" She shakes her head and bites her lip, concentrating on not crying.
Delia's eyes widen as she witnesses Tasha's reaction and she stammers. "No, no, it's okay… I can't meet him, I'll figure out something else. I don't want to … you know .. put you out or anything. I didn't really believe all of the news report, they tell reporters what they want people to know, it's not always the truth." Getting up from the loveseat, she walks over and places a hand on Tasha's shoulder. "Sorry, you don't have to, it's okay. Just… just don't tell anyone? I'll try to figure something else out. Maybe Eileen or Mister Doyle can help me, maybe we can take them camping or on a field trip or something. I just don't want them to be in the city that day."
Tasha turns, and her eyes are watery with the tears she's trying to blink back. "I'll help, too. I love those kids, Delia. I don't want anything to happen to them, but I can't tell you where Lazzaro lives. I'll try to talk to him about it, but … but it's just… I promised I wouldn't do something like this, not again." Her cheeks flush with a little bit of anger at having been put in this situation, to have to say no to Delia.
"I'll talk to Colette, too — I … there's reasons we might want to not be in the city that day, too, you know? So I can see if she will help. And I'll talk to m- Mr. Lazzaro about … if we get them out of the city, it should be okay. It's a lie, I know it is… and meanwhile, we should make sure there aren't any weapons there. Brian and Doyle can clear them out before the eighth. Maybe before I go talk to Lazzaro, too, so that it's clean. I'll tell him there's nothing there, of course, that it must be a lie that the government told the news station, but …" she swallows. It's not going to be an easy conversation, but it's better than betraying him, at least.
"I understand, Tasha, really… There's stuff that everyone has to keep a secret. It's not yours to tell, like, I'm still here… So you're keeping mine." An encouraging smile is given to the teen before the tall young woman wraps her up in a hug that may not be welcomed, but it's given. "Sorry for asking you and please don't cry. I won't put you in the middle like that."
Pulling back a little to release the petite brunette, Delia's smile widens to her natural crooked one. "There's always another way to skin a cat… If it's okay, I can show you everything I saw tonight or tomorrow maybe. That way you'll know everything, I don't know Mister Doyle very well… and I don't know that Brian fellow at all… So any kind of help there would be awesome."
Tearful brown eyes blink and Tasha's arms wrap around Delia and she nods. "Okay. What do you mean, show me, anyway? I — I don't know how your ability works. You … is it like telepathy but I have to be sleeping? Do you do it when you're asleep, or are you awake and the other people dreaming? That's … God, I don't even know." She steps out of the hug and peers up at Delia, one tear finally making its way down her cheek. She really needs to learn to keep a poker face. Why the hell would she cry over being asked to talk to Lazzaro? What logical reason is there for that? Hopefully Delia won't ask.
"I can go into other people's dreams and nightmares, and I can change them how I want." The redhead just shrugs a little and steps back and dips her hands into the pockts of her jeans. "Sort of like Freddie Kruger, I guess… except I'm not a crispy man with knife hands. And I can't control people like he can…" Her voice drifts off as she averts her eyes, a small blush creeping across her face. "Not everyone."
Delia lifts her eyes to meet Tasha's again and gives her a cheerful grin, "I can show you the dreams that I saw, the one woman thought it was real. I'm supposed to talk to Mister Doyle about the kids at the Lighthouse because she doesn't think Brian will let them go. I can show you the other two visions too… but they're not really that good… Mine scares me. I really don't want it to come true." Glancing toward the door, the redhead hems and reaches to rub the back of her neck. "I should get going though… Uhm… But… I don't know if you believe the visions, but I'm going to pack my stuff… Just in case. I got caught once half prepared and I lost almost everything. Just in case, you might want to find a safe place for your pictures, or anything you want to keep."
Tasha swallows and she brings her thumb to her mouth to chew on the thumbnail for a moment before she nods. "Okay. You can show me. I … tell Doyle I'll help, too… I mean, hell, they can even come here but I don't know if here would be safe either. I could talk to the Ferry people in Boston, maybe, see if we can bring them there for a little bit, if there's a facility that they could use maybe until the shit blows over? I d-don't know. And … I think… they're true. The visions. We know who they used to cause them, so they were true."
Her eyes dart down the hallway toward Tamara's room — the precog isn't present, of course, but just thinking about the visions brings her to mind. Tasha drops her hand and shakes her head. "We're going to change it. We've already changed it, I'm sure we have, Delia, and we'll keep your friend safe, and the orphans safe, and it'll be okay. I promise. Somehow." Her voice hardens with resolve.