Participants:
Scene Title | Plastic Melts, Water Boils… Skin Melts. |
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Synopsis | Wendy brings Peyton to the hotel room that she rented for Luke, so that it can be seen if it's possible to help him. |
Date | February 25, 2010 |
Hotel in the Upper East Side.
A call to Peyton, a request from Wendy. She met this kid, strange evo kid. That's all she'd say over the phone, but that could the other woman take a taxi over and they'd drive to the hotel she'd paid for? The reason she wanted peyton to drive was pretty evident when she'd arrived at the Solstice condo's. Wendy in withdrawal and nothing close to how she was managing at the Gala. But she'd promised the kid and she'd do it now before she ended up hiding away in her place for a bit or disappearing to some rehab for real somewhere.
Fingernails bitten to the quick, the brunette sits in the passenger side of the sporty looking sedan, foot tapping and one arm drawn across her middle, hugging herself while she nibble on her thumbnail. "His name is Luke. He was looming around the book store for hours and says he's running from the government, something to do with what he can do, which i've never touched before" She's sullen, withdrawn and her words not so loud and perky as she normally does. The afternoon is a busy check in time and a good time to go into the hotel and be lost amoungst the crowd. The place in question right ahead and they're pulling in.
What a pretty pair. Behind giant Olsen-twinesque oversized sunglasses, Peyton's raccoon eyes are healing, but that just makes them look all the worse — the black turning a rainbow of shades like yellow and blue and green. The left side of her mouth is still a little puffy, a small cut above it. The makeup she tried to cover it with isn't doing the job. The clairvoyant is none too happy with her friend's state, shaking her head a little when she first saw the recovering addict — it's not like Wendy hadn't known how bad Refrain was this time around! But then, addiction is a disease for a reason. Ration and drug abuse be many miles asunder.
"I'm not sure what you want me to do with him, though… if he's in hiding and needs help, that'd be Ferry. I can bring him to them, though."
Luke is at the hotel, kicking back and watching TV all day. Like hell is he going to even leave the hotel room! Thus, since he kept the 'do not disturb' sign on the door handle, the room is… a huge mess. Seems like he raided the vending machines more often than ordering room service, though who knows where he found the money for that; it's probably best not to ask. Right now, he's watching the Food Network, of all things.
'Who the fuck are the ferryman?" Wendy's not on the same intimacy level with the underground that Peyton is. "Whatever, just, I figured you and your friends might know what to do with him cause the kid, best I can guess, is living on the streets and i'm fucking amazed that I even managed to get him to a hotel room so that he wouldn't loose his finger,s or god forbid, his dick fall off" She's out of the car and walking, hands dug deep in the pockets of her jacket when the car is pulled into a parking spot. "Room 302"
Making their way through the hotel to the correct hotel, Peyton gives a shrug. "Ferry help people who are either in trouble for their powers or just have no where to go because of them. Sounds like he's a match for them. I'm not really a Ferryman, though I stayed with them a bit when I first got my power, she says quietly as they head up the elevator and then step out on the third floor. "The people I worked with to help rescue you — before we actually rescued you? That was Ferry." Only she'd already been taken away from the bank building by Danko, so Peyton and Cardinal had rescued her later.
At the proper door, she knocks. Her sunglasses are still on her face, despite the dimly lit building. Maybe she's been spending too much time with Cardinal.
Luke looks quickly over to the door. He didn't order room service recently! Suspicious, he gets to his feet. Or perhaps 'paranoid' would be the better term, since he sneaks to the door and peers out the hole without touching it to give them any indication he's there. When he sees a familiar face, though, he opens the door, still wary. "Yeah?"
Oh. Them. "Great, friends of the fucking atmo bitch who loves to throw people under the bus. I'm sure he'll fit in juuuuuuuuuust right" She murmurs looking towards the door when it open. "heya Fluke. this is Peyton. Peyton this is Luke. We're coming in. This was the girl I was telling you about the other day. So, how much porn have you ordered?" She plasters on a smile for the guy as she starts to make her way in.
Peyton frowns at the wording, as the same words had been used once to describe her actions with Wendy and Humanis First. "I don't know all of them, Wendy, I just know they try to help people, and that they have places to hide. Sometimes that's more important than personal skills. I can't invite every lost soul into my apartment, though I've honestly been thinking about buying a place somewhere that's less … you know… Central Park West… for people to have a place to crash," she murmurs, but then she smiles at Luke. "Hi, I'm Peyton." He may or may not recognize her from the fact she'd been paparazzi fodder for various reasons in the past and more recent past.
Luke does not recognize her, but he's been living on the streets, so… "Uh, nice to meet you." he replies, ignoring Wendy's comment about porn. Wouldn't you like to know! He hesitates, then steps back in a tacit invitation, kinda pointless since Wendy was coming in regardless.
In wendy's defense, she knew peyton was doing it to protect Wendy. Helena wasn't doing it to protect wendy and she never called Peyton a bitch. Wendy would also find out about the porn, she is footing the bill. Things like that are itemized. "She's maybe gonna be able to help you, get you to folks who can do more for you than rent a hotel room for a couple weeks" The evo detector fills in Luke. "You can trust her, she's good people"
Peyton smiles, pushing up the sunglasses now that she's indoors and won't draw attention to herself for the bruised face. "Aside from the fact that I look like a thug, I try," she says, to ward off any 'Oh, my God, who did that to your face!' sort of reaction. She heads to the sitting area of the room, perching on a loveseat and trying not to look at the mess that surrounds her. "I'll have to give them some details, though… I mean, if they're going to give you a place to live, they'd deserve to know what you can do and why you're in trouble."
"Trust me, I've…. seen worse." Luke mutters. He looks from one to the other, then shrugs. "Well what I can do is, uh… microwave emission, or something like that. That's what they said, anyway. It does different things to objects. Plastic melts, water boils…" pause. "Skin cooks." he admits. "As for why I'm in trouble, it's because my mom ratted me out to the government and they locked me away at Moab, and…" well, he'll leave it at that, since it's obvious he's not there anymore.
God, this place is a mess. How much was trashing a hotel room going to cost? "Listen Fluke" when he's done explaning his ability and realizing why she felt like she did when she touched him. "Listen, you need clean this shit up before you leave. I mean, seriously, no problem taking care of a roomservice bill, but trashing hotel rooms? Fucking expensive"
At the mention of what he can do, the clairvoyant makes a little face of surprise and unease, though it passes quickly enough. Dangerous people still scare her! Most of the people she's friends with aren't dangerous per se from their power. Claire, Cardinal, Bones, Mack, Wendy, Aaron, Gillian: none can kill people instantly. Jericho and Liz might fit the bill, but not quite in such an eerie way. "You have good control of your power?" she asks. "Did you escape Moab?" she adds, brows furrowing at that. That's not good.
Luke looks around. "Eh, it's not like I destroyed the room itself or anything. Nothing's broken or vandalized, it's just got a bunch of trash because I didn't want anyone coming in here." He notices Abby's unease and rolls his eyes slightly. "Well, it doesn't go off when… I don't want it to or anything." he tells her haltingly. "I mean, I might be tempted to give someone a hot foot, or… anyway, I didn't /voluntarily/ escape, I was in my cell one minute, the next I was in /Louisiana/ of all places about to get eaten by this hugeass alligator. Had to hitchhike to get here."
"If you were dead, they wouldn't have touched you" Wendy decides to answer, one hand going to her stomach and a grimace. "They don't like dead meat. Nice to see you got outta there though, seriously, clean this fucking room up, that's all I want. Let them in to empty the trash and change the sheets and towels. What's it gonna hurt?" SHe listens silently then, rubbing at her stomach while the two talk. Moab?
"Having the room messy doesn't keep them from coming in. You can have the room messy and still put the 'Please Do Not Disturb' sign up. Just leave when they come in the morning and go sit in one of the sitting areas — there's one on each floor, I bet. Bring a book or whatever. It should be safe, but if you feel that unsafe… well, I guess we can work on that now." She pulls her iPhone out of her pocket — the pink and glittery cell phone had met its end — and calls up a number, waiting for the connection.
Luke rolls his eyes again and looks around, /obviously/ sulking. It's not even his room, technically! "A book?" scorn! "Well I just don't want to go back." that Moab place must've been pretty bad! "Who are you calling?" he asks suspiciously when she pulls out the phone and dials.
"Oh my god fluke, what par t of 'you can fucking trust her' have you not understood. SHe's connected, connected to some group of other evo's who help evo's or shit. They save people, I dunno I don't run in that circle with her" Half the circle wants to see her writihing in pain frankly, on the ground for giving a vial of refrain to someone who asked for it. "Just chill okay. I'm going to go see how badly the bathroom looks"
Peyton pauses in the phone dialing. "You don't look like you recognize my name or my face — I'm happy about that, it's nice to know there are people who don't, still. But look. Humanis First - you know who they are? They kidnapped me for my power. These people have helped me to hide when I needed it. They can get you fake papers with fake names, so that you can still do things that normal people can. Some of them even have had face changes from what I've heard. They help Evos who have a bad past have a chance for a normal life. This girl I'm going to call? She offered to help me do all that — have a face change, a new name. I didn't, and maybe I should have, because I got kidnapped after that, but anyway, they have the resources to help you."
She pushes send, and while waiting for the phone to connect, adds, "I've heard 'Moab' mentioned but I don't know any details, but my guess is there are people from there they've helped before. I'm not totally in their group, so I don't get all the gossip."
"Why do you keep calling me Fluke anyway?" Luke asks Wendy with a frown. "Wait… face change?" he lifts a hand to his face and then shakes his head. "No thanks." he does finger the little scar along his jaw, however. With a small sigh he goes about and starts picking up trash. They are all currently in a rather dirty hotel room, and Peyton is calling someone. It's the afternoon.
'Cause I like to" Is all Wendy answers before disappearing into the bathroom with a "Oh god fuck a duck, seriously fluke, the bathroom too?" And the door closes.
Wherever in the city Cat might be, she extracts the electronic instrument from a pocket and checks the screen. The button for accept is tapped, she lifts the device to one side of her face. "Peyton," the woman greets. It's quiet around her, no sounds coming through to blend with her voice.
"Don't you dare stick yourself with anything in there, Wendy," Peyton calls, which is unfortunately the same moment that the other person answers on the phone. "Oh, sorry, Cat." The clairvoyants eyes suddenly shift — the pupils stretching and dilating until her irises look black at a glance. She's watching the addict in the bathroom. "I'm with a young man who has … um, what did you call it? He can microwave things." She winces again at the thought of it. "He escaped from Moab — was one moment there and the next in Louisiana of all places, made it up here to New York but he's really scared and I thought you could help. He's a kid. Teenager."
"Am not." Luke grumbles. He's not scared! He's /totally/ not scared! Grumpily he continues cleaning the room, although he's shamelessly eavesdropping on the conversation.
"Interesting," Cat replies after listening to Peyton's description of the situation. "Moab was an odd operation. I personally found myself at the junction of Colorado, Kansas, and Nebraska. I can make some calls, see about finding him a place to rest and get back to you with instructions." Microwaves, she thinks, can he control it or is he prone to losing it with disastrous results? A question for another time, perhaps one Ferry operators will ask. It concerns her some, the claim of him being scared. That can lead to losing the handle. No cooking Peyton Whitney!
"Are too. And you're smart to be. It's fine, kid," Peyton shoots to Luke. And ew, Wendy's not shooting up but instead throwing up. Despite the disgusting vision, she keeps an eye on the addict in the bathroom. "Thanks, Cat. Just let me know. Why are you there of all places?" she asks, blindly reaching for a bag of chips that she knows is sitting on the coffee table, and managing to grab it, reaching in for a chip.
Luke glances over when Peyton grabs his half-eaten bag of chips and frowns. Hey, he was eating that! He narrows his eyes, then blinks as he notices her pupils are dilated. "What the hell?" he moves closer, incidentally also moving closer to the trash can, and just eyes her.
"That's where I found myself when I visited Moab," Cat explains with a quiet laugh. "Suddenly in three places at once. Quite an accomplishment, I must say." Her concerns over possible control issues lessen a touch, since Peyton isn't screaming in pain and uttering the dying gasps of a woman being roasted alive in the presence of a scared human microwave.
"That's impressive. I can only manage two at once," Peyton replies to Cat. Her head turns toward Luke's voice, though she looks unseeingly at him. "It's one of like five bags of chips in the room and Wendy's paying for your room service, so don't whine," she tells him, apparently not too afraid if she's talking back to him. "Okay, Cat, let me know. I'll talk to you later."
"Five?" Luke looks startled, and scans the room. "Huh, coulda sworn I ate them already." off he goes in search of the other four.