Participants:
Scene Title | Sound of Silence |
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Synopsis | Trask runs into an old friend. |
Date | March 27, 2011 |
Anderson Hotel
Afternoon isn't usually the time that Aimee is /entering/ the lobby of the family hotel, not unless it's post-lunch. But business meetings take you all over the place, and she's been gone for several hours. She returns, dressed in a nice, dark gray suit, holding a briefcase and a smile on her lips. But then, nothing ever really gets this girl down. The only thing that sets her apart from others in the lobby are the earbuds in her ears, the cord running from one of her jacket pockets.
She exchanges a few friendly words with the doorman, and heads towards reception, asking for and receiving a few messages before she starts across the lobby, heading in the general direction of the elevators.
Trask comes out of the elevator; he has the grizzly Adams beard and long almost dreadlocked hair still. He doesn't even glance at the woman who is getting ready to board the elevator, but as soon as he steps out, silence suddenly covers the entire lobby. Noise just cuts out and you could hear a pin drop it is so quiet. Or at least that would be Aimee's point of view.
Aimee comes abruptly to a stop. The headphones are pumping out noise, but they don't completely block out everything else. Slowly she tugs the headphones free, her brow furrowed in confusion. Not since she manifested have things ever been this quiet and she looks around in search for the cause.
Trask doesn't stop, doesn't even notice the quiet, he just keeps walking past her like some homeless guy in a leather coat with a big bag on his hip. As he gets a few feet away it all comes back, suddenly and completely.
Trask doesn't stop, doesn't even notice the quiet, he just keeps walking past her like some homeless guy in a leather coat with a big bag on his hip. As he gets a few feet away it all comes back, suddenly and completely.
Eyes narrow slightly, in consideration more than anger or any unpleasant emotion like that. Aimee doesn't do unpleasant. She turns and moves towards him, swaying slightly when it goes silent again. "Excuse me! Excuse me, sir?" she calls out, while approaching him at a quicker pace than she used when first entering.
Trask has just about reached the counter when she comes after him, he speaks softly to the desk clerk, asking for mail for Bennett Dean. The voice sounds…possibly familiar to Aimee. He then pauses as he turns to see who is running up to him.
While he looks like a homeless guy, Aimee just looks a bit older than the last time they met. The incongruity of name and voice momentarily confuse her, but she brushes it off as just that. Confusion. Nothing sounds quite the same right now. Even her own voice sounds differently to her. "Sir? Pardon me if I'm keeping you from anything, but I was hoping that we might be able to talk privately for a few minutes?"
Trask frowns a little and looks over the desk clerk, the clerk shakes his head about the mail and he shrugs, "Of course Miss Anderson, please lead the way."
His use of her name startles her visibly, but Aimee nods slightly and leads the way out of the lobby, through a hallway by the elevator, and into an office. It's a homey office though, done with a number of touches that make it more comfortable than some. She motions to a sofa, then the chairs in front of the desk. "Please, make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink?" There's a pause, and then she blurts out, "How did you know who I was?"
Dammit I use to be good at this. He sighs softly and leans back in the chair, shaking his head about the drink. "You own the hotel right? I tend to like to know who can kick me out of my room if I am going to stay somewhere."
Aimee slowly shakes her head. "No, my parents own the hotel. I just work here. Though I suppose I could kick you out if there was just cause for it. I try not to do that though."
Aimee smiles. "I have no intention of kicking you out Mister…Dean, was it? No, I just have a…well…I noticed something when you walked past…" The smile goes wry. "I'm afraid I'm not very good at this. Perhaps I should just cut to the chase." She half sits, half leans on the edge of her desk, hands clasping together. "You see, I'm evolved. My ability affects my hearing, making it much, much more acute than before I manifested. And when you got close to me, everything went quiet. I almost feel deaf, to be blunt. I was wondering if you had any idea why that was. It's an odd feeling, you see. On one hand it's nice not to be bombarded with every little sound, but on the other…well, like I said, I almost feel deaf," she says, smiling again.
Trask says, "Your evolved Sin…" He stops, "I hadn't heard that. I do apologize about that…it's something of a field I give off…no real way to shut it down I am afraid…I can try to stay out of your way if you wish."
"My evolved Sin?" Aimee asks, sounding confused. Then she shakes her head. "No, no, there's no need for you to stay out of my way. Most of the time I have to walk around with headphones on, playing something to block out most of the noise. It's interesting to be able to hear things normally, without being bombarded with the tiniest of sounds."
Trask nods, "I can imagine…I've known a few people who felt that way. Some find it a curse some a blessing. Most learn to deal with it and move on, like any other part of themselves. I am glad to see your dealing with it so well.
Aimee smiles and shakes her head. "I don't consider it a curse. I may get frustrated with it from time to time, especially when I'm trying to sleep, but most of the time? It's amazing how beautiful some things can sound when you really hear them. Though you do learn to be more critical of life music."
Trask smiles, "Yes well…I've known some sound manipulators who wince at things in songs that I can't even hear, so I don't doubt it. I tend to make them sit next to me at concerts so I don't have to hear them bitch.
Aimee laughs. "But wouldn't you have to listen to it if you were sitting next to them? And I'm sorry, did I ask if you wanted anything? Something to drink? A snack?"
Trask nods, "Yes you asked…sorry I meant that I tended to make them sit next to me or not go to the concert at all. Then they couldn't notice the little nuances, and wouldn't complain about them." While his voice has a little bit of a Latino accent every once in a while, to someone so use to noticing slight changes in sound, even without their talent, something seems off about the accent.
"Oh! Yes, I suppose that makes sense," Aimee says, cheeks going a little pink. She cocks her head, studying him. "Your accent…it sounds unusual." And she frowns a little, a bit of recognition tinkling at the back of her mind.
Trask closes his mouth, and holds his lips tight for a few moments, before rising, he speaks again, carefully, "I should really be going…. I am sorry Senorita, but I have some work to do, you do not mind do you? Da, I thought not. Thank you for your time Aimee, and stay out of trouble."
First Miss Anderson, now Aimee? She straightens and takes a step towards him. "Wait, no. I never said my name was Aimee. And I don't think your accent is genuine. You look familiar, and I can't think of anyone with that accent. You /sounded/ familiar at first, even, but the name didn't ring any bells. Please, do I know you?"
Trask looks away, "Look…you don't want to go down that path…you would really rather I walked out right now."
Aimee takes another step towards him, and reaches out to lightly touch his arm if he allows. "Are you in some sort of trouble? If you are, I can help. I'd /like/ to help. And if I do know you, I want to help twice as much," she says gently.
Trask says, "It would be better if I kept a low profile…if those who might know me..Didn’t. Safer for them, safer for me.""
Aimee shakes her head. "I can be discreet. Trust me, with the things I hear every day, I have to be. It's amazing the things people will say when they think they can't be overheard."
Trask looks up, "Aimee this isn't doing something naughty like shop lifting when your 13, or sneaking one of your dads beer's behind the dumpster. This is real serious shit.
That startles Aimee. "How did you…" She pauses, taking a step closer and squinting at him, getting a /real/ good look at him. "Trask?" she asks uncertainly.
Trask looks into her eyes, "Aimee just turn around and go back to work and forget you saw me. I will be out in an hour and you won't have to worry about this ever again."
"Forget I saw you? Trask, we're friends. We've been friends since I was in high school. How can you expect me to do nothing when you're in some kind of danger?" Aimee asks, her eyes filled with compassion, and worry.
Aimee smiles warmly. "Trask, you saved my sister. You let me off with a warning instead of giving me a record. It's because I'm a good girl that I want to help. Is someone after you? I could hide you. You know my family has a lot of hotels all over the country. And I have an extra bedroom. No one would look for you there," she offers.
Trask blinks, "Aimee…. It’s a /lot/ of trouble. I can't use my own name…hell my face might set off some alarms, why do you think I am looking like this?"
That has Aimee's smile going a little wry. "I was wondering. And I'll admit, the idea did cross my mind about sitting you down and giving you a hair cut." Then the smile fades. "Trask, seriously. You saved my sister's life. This is the least I can do."
Trask shakes his head; "I don't want to bring this down on you. I…." He sighs, "Though you are the what…4th person to recognize me this week."
"I had help. If there's one thing I do better than everything else, it's listen. Your voice was off. You used my name. You referred to something that only you knew," Aimee points out.
Trask says, "Yeah well apparently I'm rusty at this undercover thing. Really rusty."
"All the more reason to stay someplace safe. The place I live has good security, so no one can get in, and really, who would think to look for you with me?" Aimee says, her voice all business now.
Trask sighs softly. "I…. Aimee…. If you get hurt because of this…because of me…."
"And if you got hurt because I didn't help?" Aimee asks with a faint, gentle smile.
"I can't make you accept the help, but please, Trask, consider it? I'll give you my cell number, in case you change your mind," Aimee says, moving back to her desk and grabbing a business card so she can offer it to him.
Trask sighs softly, and seems to be hesitating about it. But he does end up moving over to her desk and sitting down next to it. He puts a hand on Aimee's as she reaches for the business card. "Your serious about this, aren't you?"
Aimee stills and looks up at him before she nods. "I want to help. Anything I can do. You're my friend, and you've helped me more than I can ever repay."
Trask bites his lip; "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"
That makes Aimee laugh and shrug. "I have no idea. I hope not. I hope that I can help you enough to keep you safe. You're a good man, Trask. You don't deserve this trouble."
Trask says, "Don't be so sure about that. You don't even really know me. I could very well deserve everything I get.""
Aimee arches a brow. "Are you going to argue with a lady when she calls you a good person? Not very polite," she says, tone light, almost teasing.
Trask sighs, "Won't there be a problem with a homeless looking guy crashing at your place?
Now that? Yeah, that makes Aimee smile. "Not after I sit you down and give you a shave and a haircut. I can get you some hats to help hide your face if you're really worried about it."
Trask raises an eyebrow, "What you think your going to give me a makeover now?
"I'm a genius with a pair of scissors. A master, even," Aimee says with a laugh. "But I couldn't call it a makeover."
"Hats? Being cautious? I doubt anyone will be looking for you at my building," Aimee says, sounding certain.
Trask rubs his chin; "Yeah but…I can't stay in your apartment 24-7….. That would be kind of invasive.
"There's an elevator right down to the parking garage. No one pays attention to parking garages. And don't forget, I have superhuman hearing," Aimee reminds him. "I can hear a /lot/ from my apartment."
Trask grins, "As long as I'm not too close?" He shakes his head and sighs, "Ok…I need somewhere to lay low…if you 100 percent sure…then deal…but you have to agree that if I tell you to run…you run…no matter what. And if I don't call…you don't come looking for me…because if I have to walk to keep you safe, I will.
Aimee studies his face for a moment before she nods. "That sounds reasonable to me. But the same goes for you, on the listening thing. If I come into the apartment or whatever, and tell you that someone's coming or I heard something off, trust me, I really heard it."
Trask nods, "I won't doubt you. Um…any other rules for house guests?" He smiles softly.
"No loud parties," Aimee says, smiling.
Trask nods, "Ok…. Deal…. See now I thought you were going to say something about leaving the seat down and keeping my gun unloaded."
Aimee blinks for a moment. "Hmm. I didn't think of that. But there are two bathrooms, so it shouldn't be a problem," she says with another smile.
Trask nods, "Ok…but…. You got to at least let me cook.
Aimee laughs softly and nods. "That's a deal. I /can/ cook, but it'd be nice to let someone else help out in that department. So, want to see your new home for the next little while?"
Trask says, "Sure." He grins, and offers an arm, "Lead the way, Miss Anderson.""
Aimee smiles and picks up her briefcase, before taking his arm with her free hand. "It's a nice place. You'll like it." And then it's off they go! She has a car, which she retrieves before driving to Dorchester Towers. And as promised, there's an elevator in the garage, which she takes up to her floor. As she steps into the apartment she shakes her head. "It is so odd how quiet things are. But good. When I first manifested, there were headaches because of how loud everything was."