Participants:
Scene Title | Speak of the Devil |
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Synopsis | And he appears. Gillian goes to warn Eve about Peter and catch up on things. |
Date | July 29, 2009 |
Eve's Place - Ruins of Midtown
Standing in the ruins of Midtown, it's hard to believe New York is still a living city.
There's life enough around the fringes — the stubborn, who refused to rebuild somewhere else; the hopeful, who believe the radiation is gone, or that they somehow won't be affected. Businesses, apartment complexes, taxis and bicycles and subways going to and fro — life goes on. Perhaps more quietly than in other parts of the city, shadowed by the reminder that even a city can die, but it does go on.
Then there is the waste. The empty core for which the living city is only a distant memory. Though a few major thoroughfares wind through the ruins, arteries linking the surviving halves, and the forms of some truly desperate souls can occasionally be glimpsed skulking in the shadows, the loudest noise here is of the wind whistling through the mangled remnants of buildings. Twisted cords of rebar reach out from shattered concrete; piles of masonry and warped metal huddle on the ground, broken and forlorn. Short stretches of road peek out from under rubble and dust only to disappear again shortly afterwards, dotted with the mangled and contorted forms of rusting cars, their windows long since shattered into glittering dust.
There are no bodies — not even pieces, not anymore. Just the bits and pieces of destroyed lives: ragged streamers fluttering from the handlebar which juts out of a pile of debris; a flowerbox turned on its side, coated by brick dust, dry sticks still clinging to the packed dirt inside; a lawn chair, its aluminum frame twisted but still recognizable, leaning against a flight of stairs climbing to nowhere.
At the center of this broken wasteland lies nothing at all. A hollow scooped out of the earth, just over half a mile across, coated in a thick layer of dust and ash. Nothing lives here. Not a bird; not a plant. Nothing stands here. Not one concrete block atop another. There is only a scar in the earth, cauterized by atomic fire. This is Death's ground.
Instead of working on her car, this time Eve is sitting in the main room, making cooing noises and kisses at a python in her arms. The snake curls around her and she smiles at it. "Aren't you precious, yes you are!" she says and winks at the reptile.
Eve is dressed in a pair of black jeans and a black tank top. Relaxing at the moment.
"With a name like Eve you probably shouldn't be talking to snakes," Gillian says as she steps into the main room, stuffing the key to the gate into her pocket. In the past, one of them usually looked like she wasn't getting much sleep, but this time it's the one who doesn't have precognitive dreams (anymore). A bag hangs over her shoulder, she only bothered to put eyeliner on, and she's not even dressed as snappily as she might usually tries. She also looks ohysically worn out— and there's a bike outside the entrance to explain why. Faster than feet, slower than flight and superspeed.
"I hope you're not planning to go eat an apple too." There's serious topics to discuss, but catching someone in this state would be too much to pass up.
"Ha ha ha ha." Eve says with a wrinkle of her nose, "You're so funny. I have a banana I was planning on chewing on actually." The artist pets the snake and grins up at Gillian. "Gilly, this is Nanai. Nanai, this is aunt Gilly." Seeing as this is the closet thing that Eve will ever have for a child (at least in this timeline) and Gillian is the closet thing she has to a sister, since her sister is M.I.A.
"You look.. horrible." Is Eve's comment on Gillian's appearance. "Care for some tea? We should get some tea for Aunt Gilly shouldn't we?" the last directed to the snake, who just flicks her tongue in response.
"Remind me not to introduce her to her cousin Chandra or he might end up like his namesake," Gillian murmurs raspily as she moves closer, but keeps some distance between her and the snake, which includes her and her 'almost big sister'.
"I could use something cool to drink, if you even have ice or a fridge out here," she says before glancing back to the door she came through. "Some of your paintings are coming true. The ones you had when— when I found you in your apartment." That's not something easily forgettable. There's tension in the set of her jaw as she looks back, but it seems to move toward determination more than anything. "The one with Peter." Might explain why she looks horrible.
A 'come here' motion is made with her finger towards Gillian and she rises from her seat. She places Nanai in her glass case and she's walking away towards another room. "Mama will be back soon, Nanai." She says with a smile, of course that smile vanishes as she hears what Gillian says.. "What?" Eve walks fast into another room that has been converted into a makeshift kitchen.
She grabs a glass and pours some water from the fridge into it. She sits in on a chair and grips the table.
"Where is he?" Eve's eyes narrow. Her breathing deep but hard. "Where is Volken?"
"Calm down," Gillian says with a shake of her head, moving closer to the chair and the table and reaching out to touch her shoulder. "It's not like that— not exactly. It's still Peter, he's just…" There's a moment of frustration. The actions of the man in the dying grounds had acted very much like the man who frustrated her. The words she yelled at him are nothing she hadn't said many times before… "When Kazimir died, Gabriel had his ability," she explains quietly, looking down at the table instead of her friend.
"He still had it. Tavisha had it— the man he was when his memory was wiped, and Gabriel still had it. But somehow— He tried to use it to fix Peter. He used it to fix me once— after we got reunited, after the Moab incident. I'd gotten electricuted and it wasn't completely healed— but somehow when Peter was getting fixed he… He has Kazimir's ability now."
That's the best explaination she could come up with. "But he's still Peter. Though I want to fucking kick him."
Head tilted, whether Eve really wants to believe this or not can be called into question but she hangs her head. A soft sigh escapes her. The woman looks up at Gillian with light grey eyes.
"Oh thank god.." she says in relief and her eyes close. "I thought Kazimir was coming back.. I thought he was going to take over Peter. Maybe.. no I'm being paranoid. Could Kazimir be impersonating Peter?" Eve says with a sigh but she still looks very relieved.
"What did he do this time?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. "If he has Kazimir's ability, he.. must be sucking the life out of things.. if he gets fixed.. I'm sure he must have prolonged his life at least a little already. Not years.. yet. But months at least."
"He's just— an assface," Gillian mutters under her breath, letting her hand pull away so she can go over to the glass and take a drink of the water that was poured. After a few gulps, she looks back and explains, "The grass was dying around him. When I went to find him I followed a trail of dead things— and Helena too. But that's a— another story. Helena's fine, though, he wouldn't let anyone touch him." She lets out a breath and moves it sit down with her glass of water.
"He's going to work with Gabriel to try and find a way to control it so he doesn't hurt anyone. Gabriel had it for months and he only ever used it when he wanted to— I know his ability worked differently, but I don't— If anyone can teach him how to at least control his ability enough to not use it all the time, it's him. That's the only reason I'm not leaking energy all the time."
There's a pause. "I told him to go see you, and a vague idea where to find you— though 'Midtown' is pretty vague. I don't know if he will. But— if he does I want you to tell me." There's that stubborn look again.
"I'll let you know as soon as he comes to see me." Eve is already planning for when she sees him. "Peter and I have much to discuss, that is true." She says and dips her head at Gillian. "Gabriel should do a good job. Maybe Peter will be able to live with this.." The seer wonders and she places a hand on Gillian's. "Don't stress. At least.. not yet hun."
"And after you see him— or before if he takes his fucking time— I'm going to ask for your help to find him," Gillian says, looking at the hand. It's not exactly stress that sets her jaw, but it might as well be. "Learning from Gabriel is a step in the right fucking direction, at least, but he's running away from everything else too." Well, specifically in this case her. Which would probably be why the situation is rather personal for her.
There's a small pause. "There's also a guy I want you to meet sometime soon, but that's later. He's the one who killed Papa Assface with everyone's help."
"Ahh, will do. I have a feeling I'll be seeing a lot of Peter.." Eve says with a faint smile and then she is nodding. "Ok a guy I need to meet and oooh wow, I would love to meet the man capable of that." Eve stands and smiles at Gillian. "I will call you, as soon as I see him. Don't worry, Petey won't be running from this. He can't." she doesn't say that he won't be running from Gillian either, but she thinks it.
"He won't be running from getting to the point he won't kill people, at least," Gillian says rather cynically as she stays settled in the chair. She's not planning to leave right away. She just got here! Even if it was implied and thought, she's not of the opinion he'll stop running away from certain other things.
But… She takes in a long drink from the water, looking across at her, "I don't intend to hide from it, though." she adds on, that determination still there, before she changes the subject quietly, "What made you decide to get a snake, anyway?"
"I've always liked them, just hadn't bought one." Eve shrugs lightly and leans against the wall near the fridge. She looks at Gillian and smiles softly, "Don't like em? They are quite friendly, at least Nanai is."
"Plus, I get a little lonely sometimes with only me and my guns and paintings.. and my car. Did I mention one living thing that lives with me." Eve winks and places a hand in her pocket. Her arms are healing nicely. Just starting to scar over.
The snake twists, contorts and rolls around uncomfortably before beginning to slither across the cushions and down onto the floor, hurriedly working its way around the couch and behind it, just as footsteps start to clunk across the concrete floor, followed by the distant sound of a door sliding open. There is a certain, measured quality to the footsteps, no wasted motion and yet at the same time no call out to the occupants of this abandoned building, no check to see if anyone is home, just barging in.
"I didn't think you'd have company." Peter's voice comes far sooner than anticipated, the distance covered by the slow footfalls further than it sounded like. Standing in the doorway Gillian came through, his black silhouette moves into the moonlight spilling in through one window, casting pale illumination across a scarred face. The crisp suit he wears is one familiar to Eve, one seen directly in her dreams, as is the curious sapphire color of his eyes.
"I can come back later…" It's not an offer, it's a statement, and he begins to turn away slowly, hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks, face half in shadow as he starts to duck back into the doorway to show himself out.
Quite friendly, except when that ability is called into play. That'd been one aspect even Tavisha and Gabriel couldn't really control, as Gillian had noticed with Chandra. Before the cat had liked him, then suddenly he'd run to the other side of the room whenever he'd enter. The cat had loved him again, briefly, while he had her ability instead.
It's the voice that snaps her eyes over, cutting off any response she might have made about said snake, lips parted in surprise. The glass sets down on the table, and then— oh that son of a bitch.
She quickly stands up, "No." It's rather firm, that frustration leaking out. See why she was cynical now, Eve? "You need to talk to Eve. If you want me to leave you can just fucking say so, but don't— don't just walk away."
And he's not yet remembered the simple art of knocking, has he?
"Peter." Eve says in shock as he does look exactly like he does from her dream. She places a hand on her chest and shakes her head. "It's.." the prophetess pushes herself away from the wall. "It's all starting to come to together, starting with you."
The dark haired woman steels herself and moves forward. "Do not scare little Nanai like that again." Eve says as she stares at Peter. "You've found my daddy's old place." A faint smile she says and tilts her head, already beginning to walk to another part of the warehouse, she looks behind her at Peter and Gillian. "Coming?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. Eve's hair swings as she walks.
Peter languishes by the door, a put-upon look coming over his face as he hears Gillian, followed by a subtle closing of his eyes partway, leaving blue crescents dancing in dark sockets given stark contrast in the moonlight. He makes no comment, just shakes his head subtly as he steps out of the doorway and into the moonlight, making his way across the floor towards the doorway Eve is headed towards.
"I came here to specifically ask you what you've seen…" There's a discernable point to his words, a calmness that wasn't quite there when he and Gillian last saw each other. "I've heard second-hand, but I'm…" his head tilts down, searching for the words, or perhaps just the right way to say it, "curious as to exactly what you've found out?"
Perhaps most unfortunately of this whole scenario, he doesn't even acknowledge Gillian's words, like some twisted inversion of his charade at the Pinehearst building.
While he stops, there's something rather sickening about the lack of acknowledgment. Gillian's teeth set, her hands tighten into fists, and she only manages to check on the knot in the back of her head in time to keep it from unraveling on her. When Eve and him start moving away, so as not to scare the sole living thing that Eve has staying with her, she moves to follow, narrowed eyes trying to dig daggers into the sharply dressed man.
Didn't tell her to leave, so she's not going to.
"Alright we're on business." Eve says and she nods as she walks and leads the pair deeper into the warehouse, through this door and down that hall and through that door til.. ahh here they are.
The room they have entered is bigger than the others, the windows are high and the moonlight fills the place. The lights are out here but the items in this room can be seen plain.
Every painting of the future Eve has ever done before is in this room, not just the paintings but the songs she has written about her visions as well. The older paintings are stacked around the room but the newest and most horrifying ones.. they are all on easels. Facing the three as they walk in.
"But don't act like you haven't missed me, it really hurts my feelings Peter. I've been worried sick ever since I've dropped off to see your father." The seer looks at Peter. "If I wasn't afraid that my hand would fall off I would swat you." She takes another look at Peter. "Oh Pete.. carrying the essence of a very evil thing.." Eve shakes her head and waves her hand for the two to look at the paintings. "Here they are." She says, "After I had the dream, I had to get the message out. The Past is Prologue." She says to Peter and shows her healing arms to him.
"A gun isn't evil," Peter states quietly, "a plague isn't evil," he moves in quiet footfalls past Evce, walking towards the tall canvases spattered with blood and paint in some macabre mixture of art and lunacy, "it's all in how it's used." There's a brief pause, and he turns to look side-long at Eve. "Gabriel's words," it's partially a lie, "not mine."
Moving from one painting to the next, the abstract quality of buildings, lapping shorelines consuming skyscrapers, and an enormous black bird shedding atomic feathers down into a sea of mushroom clouds against a nearly black moon causes the scarred man to pause. His blue eyes navigate from one painting to another, no visible expression on his face.
"How long ago did you paint these?" He looks up, then over to Eve only after asking the question, very gradually tuning his whole body to face her, one lock of messy, dark hair coming to hide a single blue eye.
"Gabriel's right," Gillian says, even if the now blue-eyed man is practically acting as if she's not even there. There's a paleness around her cheekbones cause she's tensing up, which Eve tried to tell her not to do. The situation isn't helping at all, but there's no move to turn around and walk away and leave, but also no move to go over and kick him.
Not yet— no. Not yet. But at least now the other woman can see why she might need help chasing him down later.
Doesn't look like the paintings get much attention from her, though. She saw them all already.
"Of course he is right in a sense. The benefits of your new.. gift I even fail to see." She shakes her head. "About a week or so ago." Eve says softly and she folds her arms. "The girl with the pain pills.. Else is her name. I'm going to see her.. Kazim- you said she was a messenger.. a herald in my dream." The singer says with a look to Gillian.
"This event.. this disaster that is coming, it has to be stopped. And.." Eve stands with her back straight. "I'm done waiting around for someone to do something about my visions.. Phoenix.. everyone." The seer shakes her head and paces the room. "Regardless of what you say, both of you." She looks at both Gillian and Peter. "This is just like a game, someone is pulling the strings still. The question is /who?/" Eve tilts her head at Peter and looks again towards Gillian.
"You need to learn control over that monster soon, because you're one of the pieces Peter." She says softly.
"The Flood is coming."
Turning as Even speaks, Peter reassesses the paintings. "A week…" There's disbelief in his tone, as if somehow he expected them to be older. Entranced by the paintings, Peter very slowly brushes his fingertips down the surface of the canvas, eyes wide as he looks at teh symbolism and imagery again, more inspecing of them than before. "A herald?" His thumb brushes over the spot where Else's stylized and stick-thin form holds the bottle of pills in an outstretched hand, half her face missing and skeletal.
"Hel," Peter murmurs, tracin ghis index finger over the woman's half-bone countenance, before catching himself and looking over his shoulder to Eve. "Is this all? Is this all of the paintings?" Something has taken a hold of him, less composed now, moving swiftly across the floor towards Eve, one gloved hand reaching out for a moment as if to settle it on her shoulder, then hesitates at the last moment as she feels a prickling sensation run under her skin from his proximity.
"You said you know who the woman in the picture is. Where is she?" Dark brows lower into a furrowed expression of uncertainty, and Peter's head subtly tilts to the side, blue eyes for a moment regarding Gillian, then quickly switch back to Eve. "You know where she works? Can you tell me?"
The flood is coming. There's metaphors of all kinds of disasters that take the world apart and rewrite things. Volken failed with the plague, would a flood be his next option? Gillian's jaw stays set, as she watches Peter very closely, until eyebrows raise as his composure falters. A few steps bring her closer to them as he approaches Eve, the glare disappearing for the moment. It's that moment when he looked at her that she wasn't glaring anymore, even if it was a brief glance, she— She doesn't have much to add, but she does pipe up, "It was a little longer than a week ago— it was a little after my dream about how to stop Arthur— Sometime in the middle of this month, though."
Not much to offer, but she only just lost her perfect memory, and she kept a journal which has helped keep it all from fading.
It's the feeling that Eve had in the first dream she had of Kazimir and the many others involving him. Eve's mouth opens and she has a look of horror on her face. "No.." she says softly and shakes her head. "No.. no.. no.. no.. no!" Her eyes wide, she backs away from Peter. "Peter don't hurt me!" Like a little kid talking to her father.. or older brother.
"I don't like when you do that.." she says and wraps her arms around herself, then it's like she snaps out of her episode. Like she hadn't just turned into a crying child for a moment.
"She sings at Cat's place, I'm going there as soon as possible." Eve says shakily and she sways a little. "If you are thinking of going, so am I.. I'm helping you whether you want me too or not." That's Eve way of saying, I'm coming with you and you're stuck with me, deal with it.
"The ability.. I can't help but feel as if it would have came with at least a /piece/ of Kazimir in it. The ability and Kazimir had been bonded together for so long. You haven't felt the presence trying to take over you? Or.. felt any alien control over you?"
Then it's crying Eve again.. "Are you gonna stab me.. with the kane? Why.. no.. please.." she's against the wall now but looking at Peter before her eyes go to the ceiling.
Blue eyes dart to Gillian at the correction, then flit back to Eve, "A week or two doesn't make as much of a difference as months or years." Looking back over his shoulder at the paintings, Peter's dark brows furrow slightly, like he's trying to puzzle something out. Then, fitfully looking over to Eve as the seer slips into a moment of dementia, Peter's dark brows crease together and his expression becomes a more soured one. Slowly, he clears the distance between himself and the wild-eyed prophet.
"Eve… nobody can pull me out of the driver's seat," he says with a warm smile, "I've been down that road too many times, you hear me?" His hands tuck into the pockets of his slacks again, eyes closing as he takes a step back from her, shaking his head dismissively, as if unwilling or unable to deal with her insane hysterics.
"Gillian," it's the first time he's addressed her in a long while, "where's Cat living these days?" The question comes with a raised brow, and it's only then that it truly is made clear just how long Peter's been out of the loop. "Last I knew she…" he hesitates, considering something, or perhaps reviewing a thought, "she lived at Dorchester Towers?" Blue eyes drift up and down the dark-haired woman, his back now to the madwoman. "She's moved?"
"Oh sure, only talk to me when you want something," Gillian mutters angerly, that glare returning for a moment, even as she moves the rest of the way over to Eve so she can touch the woman's arm. One of the few times she felt protective was when she stumbled upon the woman reacting to her dream.
"Calm down, Eve," she says, raspy voice harsh instead of soothing. Blame the man in the room and his… Petrelliness. "If it were Kazimir standing here, I doubt either of us would be fucking standing anymore. And only he can make me this…" She trails off, but from the tone, the word she would've said is frustrated.
"She lives in Greenwich Village, on Fourth street. A building called Village Renaissance. But by her place, I think Eve means the Rock Cellar, which is also in the Village."
"Nobody is trying too." Eve says and it seems like she's pulled herself together because she isn't against the wall now. The hand on her arm is rubbed gently and then she moves away. "I'm just not letting you do this alone." The seer nods her head. "She moved a while ago, I've been there once. But I'm sure Gilly knows it better."
The woman walks closer to Peter. "You know something.. I can tell." Yes the future painted is bad.. but Peter's reaction, doesn't sit right with Eve. "Spill it." She says with arms folded and her hair is now helping her 'I'm crazy' look.
Eve looks to Gillian but doesn't say another word.
Peter's blue eyes stare half-lidded at Gillian for just a moment, head tilted to the side as if he doesn't understand her frustration. "Why else would I talk to you right now?" His eyes narrow just a touch, "You're obviously upset at me." When his eyes settle on Eve, though, there's something moving behind them, and were he more like Gabriel it would be the ticking of clocks to be heard, not the subtle hum of his voice as he contemplates her explanation.
"Yeah, of course, we can go there together." Peter offers Eve a plaintive smile, "How's tomorrow sound?" One dark brow rises, creasing the scar across his face briefly. "We'll go see her tomorrow," he nods once, slowly, "and if I knew something, don't you think I'd say? I tried the solo-hero thing once, remember?" He starts to walk past Gillian, his back to Eve and shoulders hunched as he tucks his gloved hands back into his pockets, "it ended poorly."
Tomorrow, perfect. But Gillian doesn't invite herself along, instead she just looks at Peter as if he doesn't understand anything. At all. That look continues until she lets go of Eve's arm and starts to follow after the man with hunched shoulders retreating from the area. Even with a promise to meet up with her tomorrow— it's more than she might have suspected. Solo-hero thing didn't turn out well? Neither did a lot of things.
"I'm upset because you've barely spoken to me since I died trying to see you! I didn't even get to talk to you— it's like I wasn't even there when you— Fuck." She grits her teeth together for a moment, as if trying to stop certain words from coming out.
"If I hadn't been at the Garden to try and see Gabriel after I found out he did get out of Pinehearst, and followed Helena, you probably wouldn't have even— You weren't the only one who had things to say, you know. But you walked away without even giving me a fucking chance to."
"The way these things are starting out Pete.. I only see this ending poorly too. Unless we change this." Eve's eyes are on Peter, don't get upset with each other. Is her message to Gillian and Peter. "Tomorrow sounds fine.. see you then." The painter walks towards her paintings, now back to Gillian and Peter. "And Pete?" she calls softly. A last word from the crazy woman if you would.
"The Garden?" Eve asks and her eyes are downcast as she runs a finger over her painting.. "My sister wasn't there.. was she? I've been looking for her." Though she knows the answer to that question.
"Don't misinterpret," Peter says quietly as he comes to pause in mid-stride, looking over his shoulder only enough to spare Gillian the sliver of one blue eye, "I came here to see Eve." He turns his back to her, starting to walk again, "You deserve better, Gillian, everyone does… and by the time I get to the bottom of this, there'll be a better ending for…" he hesitates, Eve calls his name, and he turns slowly to look back at her with one brow raised, then only closes his eyes and slowly shakes his head at her question.
"I'll be in touch tomorrow," Peter's voice is subdued, softer than usual, but still possessed of a crisp enunciation. "Try to at least pretend to be sane when we're in public…" a smile creeps up on his lips, followed by a slow shake of his head as he starts walking out of the room containing the paintings without a further word.
Came there to see Eve did he? There's a gritting of her teeth, but under the surface of anger there's something decidedly vulnerable there. "You don't get to decide what I deserve, Peter," Gillian says, raspy voice tighter than before, and losing some of it's snap even when she says that. There's a shift of her feet as if she's tempted to chase after him, to, but the feet drag for a moment.
"And did you ever think that maybe you were my better ending?" She adds on, envoking certain memories that are no longer very clear. It won't matter anymore, and he's already walking away again…
"I don't know your sister, and I never even made it inside," she does take a moment to respond to the woman, even as she keeps her eyes on Peter. Luckily that little knot remains tied. Honestly she'd not been prepared to find him today either, but next time…
"It was good seeing you.." Eve says, it's what she wanted Peter to hear. And then he walks out. "I will! You just concentrate on not being creepy with those eyes!" she calls out with a faint grin and shakes her head. "Jerk." But it's said with love. "Missed you too by the way! Ass!" That is said with love too, Peter would understand it. It's how they work, the two of them. "And don't scare Nanai on your way out!"
The door to the warehouse opens slowly, depositing Peter out onto the street. His shoes click and clack against the concrete underfoot, one hand moving up to adjust his tie. He turns, slowly closing the sliding door behind himself, then turns around to look out over the ruins of Midtown, across the crumbling skyscrapers and broken pavement underfoot. His eyes narrow, looking up towards the clear night's sky for a sign of the moon. None is found, and his head dips back down as he turns, starting to walk down the cracked and broken sidewalk casually.
On his way deeper into the ruins of Midtown, Peter's voice finally comes out as he walks past an empty storefront, his reflection wavering in the glass adjacent to him, "I'm sorry." It's a whisper to himself, head down, brows furrowed. For now, it goes without explanation.
Unheard.