Participants:
| Scene Title | Starting At The Beginning |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | It's been a LONG couple of years. |
| Date | Mar 29, 2011 |
Elisabeth's Apartment, Dorchester Towers
Trask looks a little different then previously when he knocks at the door. He smiles as Liz lets him in and the redhead slips into the kitchen with a bag of groceries and begins making some noise moving around pots and pans.
Both eyebrows shoot upward and Elisabeth …. grins. "Wow," she murmurs. "Never pegged you for a redhead." She closes and locks the door behind him and just follows toward the kitchen. "Cute. I like it."
Trask smiles and rubs his chin where the beard has been cut back dramatically, "Decided too many people seem to be recognizing me, figure it was that I /looked/ like I was trying to hide who I am."
"Well…. you sorta did have the whole French trapper thing going on, that's for sure." Elisabeth's blue eyes trail across his face and she tilts her head. "I, uhm…. I'm glad you called today." She's had a lot on her mind. Especially today. She shoves her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.
Trask raises an eyebrow, "You are are you? You know when you stand like that and get that look in your eyes you make me think you a 19 year old co-ed…." He begins cracking some eggs into a pan.
Elisabeth suddenly goes a little… pale. "You…. Norton, you didn't know me when I was 19?" It's a very real question, the expressionon her face telling him she doesn't know the answer. "Did you?" The idea has her brows furrowing.
Trask blinks, "Nope…not to my knowledge…why is that important? I can still imagine you as a cute blonde teenager. Not that hard to picture you know." He begins chopping up raw bacon.
"Oh." Elisabeth breathes out a sigh of relief. "Uhm… it's not terribly important I guess. I just…. It startles me when that happens. I, uhm…." Oh great. "I have amnesia. Sort of. There's a chunk of time missing."
Trask blinks, "How big of a chunk?" He looks a little confused, "You never told me that before…" He puts the bacon pieces into the pot and then steps away from it to walk over to you.
"Well…. I didn't have it before," Elisabeth admits, her hands still in her pockets. "About … ten years, give or take." Her eyes shift around the apartment a bit, avoiding his gaze as he walks up in front of her like that. She's become adept at saying it out loud, though it never seems to lessen the impact of hearing the words. "I was…. Humanis First tried to execute me." She looks up at him. "When I was healed, some of the brain matter was just not there anymore, so although physically it's healed, the memories just don't exist anymore."
Trask winces, "Which 10 years? The last 10?"
Elisabeth laughs softly. "No. Uhm… near as I can figure about 1991 to 2001. My last memory is … somewhere near a prom. I think it's my junior year of high school. And my first memory after that is walking through the rubble at Ground Zero looking for survivors. Maybe… two or three days after." She studies him. "It's been a tough couple of years," she tells him quietly.
Trask nods, "It sounds like it, I guess I got lucky with the whole vacation…" He then frowns at a smell and runs to the stove, moving the eggs and bacon around and wincing a little at the way the eggs have taken a decidedly darkened hue.
The blonde eeps. "Oh, lord. Sorry, didn't mean to make you burn it," Elisabeth says, pulling her hands out and following him in. And then she laughs. "What is it with you guys and my frying pan?" Shaking her head, she lets him handle the situation while getting her glass of wine that's sitting on the counter. "Yeah… well, I don't know that I'd call what you were doing a vacation, but I'd say you were a damn sight safer there than ducking Humanis First here." She grimaces. "And the Feds. And the fucking ex-Vanguard. And … whatever the hell I can't think of right now." There's a sigh.
Trask fishes out the burnt eggs and is able to save most of the bacon though. He gets out some more eggs and adds them to the pot " You've been letting other men use your frying pan?" He shows a mock expression of shock.
"When you live with a man, he generally uses your frying pan," Elisabeth replies in a gentle, casual tone, taking a sip of her wine while she watches him over the rim of her glass. "I've been trying to decide how much to tell you about what's been going on and I figure before I tell you anything at all, I should probably ask how deep in the shit you want to go. You left because you were wanted…. did you just come back to check in, or are you coming back to stay?"
Trask says, "Depends on what you need…not just you, all of you" He waves at the city with the frying pan and then puts it back down, watching the eggs more carefully this time. Next goes in a can of habeneros. "You need me to do something that is going to get me burned and to dissapear, deal. You need me to stick around and fight the good fight…deal. What do you want?""
"Are you asking me as one of the leaders of a revolutionary group?" Elisabeth asks him. "Or are you asking me as your friend?"
Trask says, "If you..,Liz…ask me to go, or stay, I will. If you the freedom fighter ask me to stay or go, I will. I'll leave it up to you to fight amongst your self about whether or not both want the same thing."
Elisabeth laughs quietly. "Well, Liz your friend…. wants you safe. Because at least one of us would be." She hesitates and admits, "I think perhaps I've tripped somewhere. Information is coming my way lately in some rather obvious ways, and… I might have to do a little disappearing myself." She tilts her head. "But if you want to stay and fight, Norton? I'd take you at my back any day of the week and twice on Sundays."
Trask grins, "Well unless someones got those darts from moab, or there really is another of me over at the institute twice on Sundays might be pushing it. But you have me as long as you want me."
She sets her wineglass on the counter and moves over to simply hug him tightly. "It's good to have you back," Elisabeth murmurs. Then she smiles. "So… now comes the fun part. Do you need a place to stay? I've got a safehouse with a few people stashed in it and you're welcome to stay there. It might…. be good for you to at least stop in. Claire Bennet's staying there. Like most of us, she's pretty well suffering PTSD. You've always had a knack for dealing with hysterical blondes."
Trask chokes softly a moment, "Claire…yeah she still alive?" He grins a little, "We didn't exactly leave on the best of terms, and while we trusted each other with our lives in combat she didn't exactly like hanging out near me. Well unless she was in the mood to pledge a sorority. I have a place to crash, but a more secure one wouldn't be so bad." He pauses a moment, "I would kinda like to see some of the old crew again….yeah."
"Claire's…. no longer got her power, Norton. So… " Elisabeth shrugs a little. "I think you'll find a lot of things have changed." She stands on her toes and kisses his cheek. "I saw Eve, too. I told her you were back. She'll be … looking for you." That ought to be interesting, at least. The precog seeking the blank spot.
Trask turns and raises an eyebrow, "Claire is mortal? God what kind of crap have you been up to this last year. Are powers like a collectiable trading card game now or what?" He shakes his head and tosses in the cheese and a splash of vodka in the pain then pulls out a match and lights it on fire a second, one quick burst and then it is out before she can even react. He looks for some plates and dishes the concoction on to a few, with a liberal side of sour creame, he slides one over to her, "Ok I think its time we sat down and went over /everything/ Start at the beginning……..