brian_icon.gif munin_icon.gif

Scene Title Sledgehammer
Synopsis Brian brings Munin some sandwiches and an iPod. It turns out they have more in common than a slightly similar taste in music.
Date December 5, 2008

A Ferrymen Safehouse

Brian is curled up on the ground in front of the door to Munin's cell. A pillow scrunched up. He's slept on worse. It's one skill he eventually honed. Being able to sleep without being comfortable, though he's not as mastered as some of the upper crusts of the homeless community, he doesn't have much of a problem now. From down the hall, two more Brian's appear walking side by side towards the door. One carries another large bucket, and something else tucked under his other arm. The second brings another tray of food. Two plates this time, each with a sandwich and a bag of chips, accompanied by two sodas.

The Brian at the door is gently shoved out of the way with two feet. He doesn't give much protest but crawls weakly out of the way before going back to his current favorite activity.

The door opens. "Lunch time." He says cheerily, the one going to change out the buckets of fresh water. And the black device is pulled out an iPod plugged into a cradle. "I brought you music, do you like music? Everyone likes music."

"Eileen" is looking better than the last time Brian saw her — some of the colour has returned to her cheeks, and her hair doesn't appear nearly as matted or stringy. Her pale eyes, too, are brighter than before. The plate he left out at breakfast time is empty; either she's finally starting to accept food and drink from her captors, or she's found some other way to dispose of it. The metal grate in the corner of the room, rusted over from years of disuse, is the most likely candidate.

She does not rise from her seat on the edge of the cot when Brian enters the room, but she does turn her head to look back at him over her shoulder, fixing him with a solemn stare that would look more at home on the face of a caged animal than a young woman — though there's definitely something feral, something wild behind her eyes as she watches him, flinty and silent.

"Hm." He says, one of the copies trading out the water. The tray of consumed food is handed to the other copy who exits leaving just one present. He sets down the new tray absently. "Glad you ate." He murmurs with a smile. "Okay, so.. If you don't want to talk maybe you could like, blink your eyes twice if you like the music I put on, alright?"

Going to his knees the young man has his back to the girl as he fiddles with the thing. "Beatles? Everyone likes the Beatles. You ever notice how most people agree on old music that is good, but it's real hard for people to agree on new music?" A little 'hm' escapes him, indicating it is in fact quite interesting. "Queen, maybe? Or maybe you want something depressing." He goes to look over his shoulder to see if she has blinked twice yet.

Munin doesn't blink twice, but she does swivel in her seat, shifting to face Brian as she swings both her legs over the side of the cot and places her bare feet on the floor. She rests her hands on her knees. Maybe she likes the Beatles, maybe she doesn't — the plate of food gets her attention while the iPod goes ignored. "Nine Inch Nails," she offers plainly, picking up the sandwich and turning it over a few times in her hands. She even peels back the bread to make sure there isn't anything hidden inside that she can't see just by glancing at it. "Pink Floyd. Dream Theater. I like Genesis and Yes. You know Peter Gabriel?" Her tone is light, conversational. A stark contrast to her gloomy appearance.

He gives a grin as she starts to look in the sandwich. "I hope you aren't picky. I love making stuff like that, and I throw creativity into it. Turkey with bacon on it, avocado, cheese and I put cream cheese on it before I heat it up. Don't eat both of those, one of 'ems for me."

Then he goes back to fiddling with the iPod. "I want to fuck you like an animal~" He distorts his voice to make it more raspy. "Those guys? No I don't have any of their crap. Pink Floyd. Appreciated, but not owned. I've never heard of any of those others. 'Cept for Peter Gabriel. He wrote that song about Steven Biko. I had to write a paper about him. Not Peter Gabriel, Biko." Brian clarifies. "I might have some of his crap, let me check…" A moment.." Aha! What song you want?"

Satisfied that there aren't any razor blades lurking beneath the slices of turkey, Munin places the sandwich back down on the plate and begins picking off the avocados. It's not that she's a vegetarian — she has a special fondness for the fruit and prefers to eat it by itself so she can savour the texture and the taste, rolling it around in her mouth. "I grew up calling them alligator pears," she says, popping one of the buttery slivers into her mouth. "Never heard the word 'avocado' until I came to the States. You Yanks eat them a lot over here." Licking off her fingers, she goes back to observing him play with the iPod. She has one at home, a gift from Ethan, but it isn't something she spends a lot of time with. Whenever she's out on the street, she needs to keep an ear close to the ground — music only distracts her from her surroundings and the subtle clues she might be able to glean from them.

"Solsbury Hill?" she tries.

"Alligator pears." Brian repeats with a little smirk. He takes a moment to try to think of some way he can relate. What he used to call something… But he's got nothing. "So not as common over there?" He asks with a perk of his brow. "Have you not had guacamole then?" He asks, genuinely intrigued.

He presses play and turns down the volume a little bit. "Sorry, all's I got is Sledgehammer. I probably shouldn't have asked you that in the first place." He says with a little grin. Standing up he goes to retrieve one of the cans of pepsi. "You like soda? Or pop? Or whatever you call it?" The can makes a fzzz as he opens it. "Should probably warn you. I slurp soda. Everyone gets pissed at me, but I think it makes it taste better." A little shrug.

You could have a steam train
If you'd just lay down your tracks
You could have an aeroplane flying
If you bring your blue sky back

"Ginger ale. That's about it. Most other stuff takes yack — I've spent so much time aled up on alcopop I don't have much of a stomach for it anymore." Munin offers Brian a small, apologetic sort of smile. "You couldn'ta known." As for the guacamole, she shakes her head. "I know what it is, but I've never had it. You eat it with chips and salsa, yeah? New York City's an awful long way from California. Great for hot dogs and pastrami sandwiches — West Coast eats, not so much."

All you do is call me
I'll be anything you need

He frowns a little bit as she declines the beverage he got her. "I… Next time." He says with a little smile. Taking a step back he leans against the wall then slides down to a seat. Tipping the can he does in fact slurp it out. Then proceeds to swish it around in his mouth a little before he swallows it. "Noticed. I'll make you some. Everyone should try guacamole." Setting the can down he scoots forward, holding his hand out, motioning for her to hand him the second plate. "So, who's Ethan?" He asks casually.

You could have a big dipper
Going up and down, all around the bends
You could have a bumper car, bumping
This amusement never ends

If Munin has anything to say about it, there won't be a next time. She picks up the plate, careful not to tip it, and passes it across to Brian, arm visibly stiffening at the mention of Ethan. "You think Sylar's bad…" Poor old Bossyboots is probably busting his gut trying to figure out where she is, and just the thought of it brings a troubled frown to Munin's lips. "I keep telling Teo to butt out, but he won't listen. You've no idea, the wrath you're pulling down onto your heads."

I want to be your sledgehammer
Why don't you call my name
Oh let me be your sledgehammer

"Thanks." He smiles as he takes the offered plate. Folding his legs, he places the plate on his lap and proceeds to dig into his sandwich. Slurping from his Pepsi between bites. His face screws up a little at her words. "You called his name out when you woke up. But you make it sound like you don't like these people." Brian murmurs after he swallows down a mouthful of turkey and bacon. He glances at her and gives a little smirk. "We'll be fine." He says confidently, but his smile dies down after a minute. "I wanted to talk to you about something.."

This will be my testimony
Show me round your fruitcage
Cos I will be your honey bee
Open up your fruitcage
Where the fruit is as sweet as can be

Munin has to bite her tongue to keep from saying something she knows she'd regret. Brian's comment about the first thing she did upon waking earns him a reproachful look, but that's all. She doesn't remember calling out for Ethan. Then again, this isn't the sort of detail she thinks Brian would make up — as far as she knows, they didn't even have Ethan's name before it clumsily slipped out of her mouth. "Yeah? What?"

I want to be your sledgehammer
Why don't you call my name
You'd better call the sledgehammer
Put your mind at rest

Another bite as he twists her head at her, then shrugs off the whole Ethan thing. "I think we have a mutual acqu- a mutual dickhead." He informs her, setting the half of the sandwich that still remains. "Peter Petrelli. He tried to kill you, right?" He asks with a touch of sympathy in his eyes.

I'm going to be the sledgehammer
This can be my testimony
I'm your sledgehammer
Let there be no doubt about it

Munin's demeanor changes completely the moment Brian brings up Peter Petrelli. She clenches her jaw and shrinks back, pulling her legs back onto the cot, arms wrapping around her knees and hugging them against her chest at the memory, though she doesn't appear to be frightened — only pensive. "Yeah," she says, running her tongue over her upper lip and the scab at the corner of her mouth. Apart from the memories, deep scars that run beneath the surface, it's the only mark left on her body that serves as a testament to her encounter with him. "He tried to get into my head, but the birds— they didn't make it easy for him."

Sledge sledge sledgehammer

Brian's expression slowly dims as he watches her reaction to the name. He gives a little frown. Taking the plate off his lap, he sets it on the ground beside him. "I'm sorry." He murmurs softly. "I know.. I mean we're keeping you captive. That has to suck and all, and I know, Teo and Helena have been trying to get into your head but.." He gives a small exhalation. "We have that in common you and me." He slowly looks a little more depressed as they continue to talk about Peter. "He.." Lowers his head. "He screwed me up pretty bad too. I feel for you."

I've kicked the habit
Shed my skin
This is the new stuff
I go dancing in, we go dancing in

If what Peter did to Brian is anywhere near as bad as what Peter did to her, Munin strongly suspects he won't want to elaborate. Judging by the subtle shift in his tone and body language, it is. "Peter Petrelli." Just saying the name leaves a bitter taste in Munin's mouth and makes her want to spit. She rakes her tongue over her front teeth. "He's the one responsible for the mess we're in. You tell the skinny little blonde that, the next time you see her — thousands of lives, all snuffed out an instant, all because of one man who can't control his temper. You lot are a bunch of baboons if you think working with Petrelli is a good idea."

Oh won't you show for me
And I will show for you
Show for me, I will show for you
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I do mean you
Only you

"I want to cut his fucking head off." Brian hisses, his eyes shooting up at her, his brows knitting. It's very clear that he's not joking now. But.. "What? What are you talking about? Sylar did that." Brian says softly, tilting his head at her with a slight frown.

You've been coming through
Going to build that power
Build, build up that power, hey

"No. He didn't." Munin doesn't sound surprised by Brian's reaction. It's almost as though she'd been anticipating it. "It was Petrelli. That's why he's so dead set on finding Sylar — so he can silence him, keep the truth from coming out. You think it's a coincidence his brother the Senator was the one who made that announcement about people like us? About the things we can do?"

I've been feeding the rhythm
I've been feeding the rhythm
Going to feel that power, build in you

Brian knits his brows. His hatred for Peter Petrelli would incline him to believe. But conspiracies like that don't really happen do they? "Sylar, told you that. He could be lying to you. I don't know if someone like that is particularly interested in honesty, Eileen." Brian argues, trying to be sensible… Though… He looks down at the ground. Hm.

Come on, come on, help me do
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, you
I've been feeding the rhythm

"Petrelli confirmed it when he had me shoved up against the wall," Munin clarifies. "The only reason he let me live is because I confronted him about it, and it threw him so off-kilter he couldn't follow through." She turns away from Brian, resting her chin on her knees and angling her head in such a way that a wavy curtain of hair separates her face from his. "Ask him next time you see him. Watch the way his face crumples, eyes getting real dark. He's an animal. Animals don't like being reminded of what they are."

She'd know.

I've been feeding the rhythm
Its what we're doing, doing
All day and night

Taking his final bite of the sandwich Brian swallows hard. That's a lot to think about. Standing up he drains the rest of the soda. Setting the can down he stares at her back for a minute. "I'll.. I'll leave the iPod here. Listen to whatever you want. And I'll have one of me standing just outside the door.. So if you need anything. Just call." He reminds her.

He licks his lips nervously before taking a slow step towards her. Raising his hand slowly he places it on her shoulder for a moment. "I'm sorry he hurt you, Eileen… I'm sorry they hurt you." His words are sincere, and then he gives a gentle squeeze before stepping away to collect his plate and empty can. "See you for dinner.. I'm making spaghetti." Woohoo. With that, the copy gathers everything and steps out, closing the door behind him.

December 5th: In Their Footsteps

Previously in this storyline…
Not An Accident

Next in this storyline…
All Dressed Up With No Place To Go

December 5th: Doo Wa Ditty
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