Participants:
| Scene Title | The Art of Sharing |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Two of New York City's meddlers have a clandestine summit at a strip joint. |
| Date | September 19, 2018 |
The note had simply read: Meet at the place where the little darlings skip to my loo.
The loud lights and equally loud music makes this a perfect place for clandestine meetings of course. The poles of the place gleam in the purple light as a redhead spins around in a twirl and performing a gravity defying move that has to be a result of an SLC-E ability. There’s a roar of applause from a pair of men sitting near the front of one of the stages. Throwing dollar bills at the floor. The crowd is light tonight but the night is still in full swing with a trance like track blaring over the speakers around the room.
In the center of Little Darlings is a purple and blue lit up tree that a pale woman sits under, swaying to the music with a glass of water in her hand. Eve Mas looks thrilled to be here, a large hat on her head and dressed in a short dark purple dress, her hair tossed and teased to maximum volume, the demented woman whistles to the melody of the track and taps her fingers on a branch of the tree. This place is perfect.
“Alright, I’ve got to admit…” Richard steps from the crowd and drops himself into a chair nearby, watching the red-head twirl with nigh-supernatural agility around that pole, “…that’s pretty impressive. Even Niki’d have a hard time pulling that off, and I’m not even sure she could.”
He’s picked up a glass of beer himself, and he leans back in the seat before gesturing with it, “Interesting choice of venue.”
“Wonderful isn't it? The female form. Look at her twirl. The dark haired woman smiles wide at Richard and looks over the rest of the crowd with a faraway look, “My mother was a dancer, dad hated it but the money was too good.” Thinking back to growing up gives Eve a healthy dose of nostalgia, “Sometimes I come to strip clubs. It's sick but I feel close to her here.” And Eve has been feeling like she needs her mother’s strength with what's been going on.
Turning more to look over into Richard’s eyes she takes a calm sip of her water and places it on the table next to her, she looks wild but.. less frazzled. Though the dark circles under her eyes, even the makeup can't hide.
That look is familiar for any who knows Eve, something has been haunting her. Something keeping her up at night. The pulsating bass vibrates through her body and she settles herself into a more comfortable position. “
There’s been a lot going on,” pulling a cigarette out of her bra she lights it without looking for security. The light white smoke wafting up the ceiling as she the ember glows bright orange, “How are you?”
“On the seventh day, he rested,” is Richard’s quote to respond to that question, “But as it turns out he had a lot of fucking catching up to do on the eighth.”
The shadows beneath his own eyes suggest he hasn’t been sleeping very well either, although they’re not as bad as hers — possibly because he’s never slept much, really.
“There has been a lot going on,” he admits, swallowing a mouthful of beer before noting, “I don’t think you’re allowed to smoke in here, by the way..”
“That day really was just a millisecond. A tricky lie. Sneaky sneaky.” Wagging her finger at imaginary people around them Eve catches herself and looks up at the ceiling instead something catching her eye and it ends up just being light reflecting off of another light fixture, the effect was dazzling and Eve was transfixed for the moment, smoke pouring from her mouth and hands like some voodoo dragon witch. Shaking herself she nods along with Richard, “Maybe not.” To the smoking but she doesn't move to to put it out, though security in the distance can be seen talking among themselves, just one more drag. “This is just the first stop, anywho.” Fixing her friend with a stare through the haze of smoke developing around her.
“You know of that..thing, through Odessa, yes?” Richard, like Eve usually had his nose in these sorts of situations, if there was ever a situation like this they had gone through (there wasn't but). They were alike in this. “That ancient thing.. it's..” her expression grows pained thinking of her encounters and while speaking of it spreads it
.. “The most powerful thing I've ever witnessed.”
A slow breath is drawn in, exhaled, and then Richard tilts the glass back to his lips for a longer swallow. He’s going to need it, he can tell. He lowers it again, resting it to his knee and saying quietly, “It’s safe to talk about it so long as you don’t… say too much. They left breadcrumbs for others to find, disjointed, going at it from angles so you can figure out what happened by inference and not risk infection.”
“What do you know?” A tilt of his head, one brow raising slightly, “I know they’re memetic in nature, they attach onto you through the idea of them… they’re old, like you said. There are some hints in mythology about them too, and they seem to back up what Adam thinks they are, but… what is it that you know, Eve?”
A meme! There's a snort of laughter and Eve nods her head at the irony. Considering what she knows the seer takes another gulp of water and tilts her head to the side a tick eyeing Richard through long lashes, “Same as you, it spreads as an idea. The more any speaks of it the stronger it grows. Attaches, is a very good word for it.” Thinking to her recent dreams on the subject of the golden eyed entity. “There's a symbol, of the Gemini. There are.. heavy associations with between the two.”
“It feels.. like it knows us. Inside out. Like a parent.. or a grouchy grandma who bakes the worst cookies.” Dark hair gets a shake, sending strands flying in the air as she flips her face to face upwards towards the ceiling. “I've been dreaming of it often now. Interacting in some way.” Eve’s tone curious but fear filled. “It took my eyes and my gift. Wrecked my body.” Her lips doesn't tremble though the trauma of that is fresh. “..even rearranged me.. changed how I see.” The only explanation she had to her sudden shift in sight.
That last bit is left in the air, a withering thread that makes Eve uncomfortable but also something she's obsessively curious about. “There was a ritual… procedure of some kind. Kam wouldn't speak of it much but maybe.. now.” Eve’s hand tightens around her glass of water. “Whatever they did was only a bandage. She cauterized the wound and everyone who remembers or could is dead. Except her. I must see her.”
“What do you know?”
“Nisatta.” Richard’s voice is quiet, thoughtful as he looks across the room, “Of course. I thought it might be her… I wasn’t sure. It could’ve been a parent, or a relative.” The pad of his thumb brushes over the glass handle of the mug, and then he looks over to her. “Are you sure you really want to do that, Eve?”
The beer’s set down, and he draws his phone out, thumb tapping the screen before he slides it over to her.
The final painting is not finished, but the pencil sketch shows enough of the overall composition. It depicts a woman that looks strikingly like Eve Mas laid out on her back on the ground with a shiny pool of blood spilling out from all around her. Standing over her corpse is a figure cast entirely in silhouette except for bright gold irises.
His gaze focuses on her face, watching her reaction, “Are you really sure?”
Eve peers at Richard, “What do you know of her?” Nisatta. Her interest in that fabulous woman grows by the minute. “She knows more.” She has too. The pale woman places her glass on the table next to her gently as Richard scrolls through his phone to show her a painting, of her death. “Well,” eyeing the thing she licks her lips and ponders before she pulls out her phone and handing it over to Richard once she's found the photo.
It's basically the same image except the Kensei sword is in her back and Eve’s own signature in ‘09 is written in the corner. “Got mine from one of the mothers Alice Shaw. I seemed to have forgotten about it.” She doesn't wave her hand dismissively, it's a serious omen. “When I dreamed of Cameron’s death by The Dark One, withered to nothing but bone. I was the one dying.” She frowns at the thought but her point stands. Though.. “One would say I'm a bit more connected to that,” pointing to the eyes. “So..”
“Death hasn't stopped me before.” Eve didn't believe in the third time being the charm, not when it meant the third time she does it would be the last time she dies. “I've tumbled down this rabbit hole too far to stop, plummet it may be.” She's made her choice.
“She was the host,” Richard replies quietly, his gaze regarding the picture on hers before sliding again to flip to another picture, “If you’re sure, Eve. If you’re sure.”
Another painting is strikingly familiar to Richard and unmistakably depicts Eve Mas in black and white, hair wild and unkempt, and below her a sketchy black depiction of some sort of many-fanged beast’s face. On its brow is a familiar half-helix symbol.
He draws back, his eyes closing as he stirs up memories before stating, “Awonawilona was the sun, and its children the Ahayu'da, one pale and one dark. The Kachina spirits descended from them, that dwell in living things, and have power of their own.”
He opens his eyes again, reaching over for the beer, “There are some that say the Zuni have ancestral connections to the Japanese, which you may find interesting.”
The host. Eve blinks a few times before her head cocks to the side, “Excuse me?” Looking confused before the fact slams into her face. “That..” makes sense and while Eve is use to seeing her death and maybe even Gillian’s for all the times she has, seeing the painting her of her face next to that monsters.. the dream of her shooting Lene and herself springs to mind. “Ah no, no no.” Shaking her head from side to side the seer bites her lips and snatches at the phone to get a closer look. “Who painted these?” the question insistent, her eyes growing wide.
Running a finger down the surface of the phone at the half helix symbol, “It follows me.” She sounds resigned to her fate, deflated. The dark circles under her eyes not able to be hidden fully by the makeup she wears tonight. “I've dreamt that face. Painted on Gilliam's wall.. not so long ago. There it goes, knocking on my brainpan again.” Knocking on the side of her head with a noise made with her cheeks in time with the movements. “It's going to try to ruin me, kill my family.” If running was the way to go.. shaking her head she gives the phone back to the CEO. “Thank you for sharing these with me.”
She had a lot to consider.
As Richard tells her a story Eve’s expression brightens, she loves stories. Myths. Eyes widening at the imagery aligned with those words, “Ancient, birthed from two. Of one name…” Brow furrowing she thinks back to the books she's read over the years on the topic. There were so many myths but so many of them seemed alike in her mind. The same tales. “Like Amaterasu.. Japanese goddess of the sun?”
“Power of their own..”
“No, Eve…” Richard shakes his head, “You don’t understand, I don’t think.”
A long draw on the beer, and he sets the vessel down before reaching for the phone again, sliding his finger to move through the photos once again. Turning it, he slides it back over to her once more. “Thomas Redhouse,” he answers, even as he waits for her to digest the picture.
#bfa877|The painting depicts a vibrant eclipse of gold leaf paint on a field of black. On either side of the eclipse are two golden humanoid silhouettes with their arms raised over their heads. The entire painting is highly stylized with sharp lines and delicate curves, traditional in the Zuni art style.##
“An eclipse like that looks awfully like a gold eye,” he notes, his tone dry, “And what pale and dark twins do we know, Ms. Mas? I think you’ll realize, if you think about it for a moment.”
The next painting shown has Eve’s head tilting almost to an unnatural angle, “My my.. my.” Eyelids flutter as a memory takes hold of her, her first dream when she manifested. Something she always has thought was just a weed influenced dream. “I've seen something similar. So long ago.. a child with gold eyes, lifting their hands to the skies and bringing a eclipse down upon the world.” The pieces click into place for the woman and she pulls back at the thought. Shaking her head she decides to answer Richard’s question. “The Dark One and the Light. Conduits.”
There is another pair, light and dark you could say but her money is on the ancient ones, all connected.
“OG has a painting of midtown, the Deveaux building ah miss that place. They are clashing together there. I suspected for the arrival of Liz, the Other Otter and that pizza boy.” Eve is still confused by the young man and his gibberish speaking self, how was she having memories of him? Though she tried to wave it off that glaring thought comes roaring back to the forefront of her mind and her expression grows troubled. “That is a past event Richard,” The one of her first dream of even what Redhouse has painted. “I've been reliving memories.. things I.. some don't make sense. Jumbled together. I'm remembering other people's memories..” Her finger twitches.
“You said that your gift had changed…” Richard draws the phone back, thumb tapping the button to darken the screen, “…that makes sense, given what they can do. They can change your genetics on the fly, make your ability something else or just destroy your body and organs with a snap of their fingers. God only knows what they did to you.”
A grimace twists his expression, “The Company was investigating a way of preventing it, using Adam’s cellular structure. They must have succeeded in the end, because they did manage to stop them— they used Odessa. She was just a little kid at the time, a baby. I think they forced them into her and— somehow used the Looking Glass to banish them between worlds. Then they wiped everyone’s mind.”
“Everyone’s,” he says more softly, “Every Company agent, to the last. They erased decades of memories, altered them all to forget Adam had even been operating with them, erased Joy for some reason too. Even the witches didn’t realize their memories had been altered until I told them.”
Eve squints her eyes and nods along, “Where did you learn this?” The source is as important as the information and Eve’s source is somewhere other while Richard’s remains in the physical world. Something to latch onto. Odessa. “That explains that then.. poor time fairy.” She wonders why not Hiro or another, was she the only one. “Looking Glass,” her thoughts on that piece of tech kept to herself as she massages her knees. Science Fairies. A meddler annoyed with meddlers, pot calling the kettle black.
“It didn't just tear me asunder and piece me together anew. It once just mended me, in a way that shouldn't be possible back when we traveled.” That Entity had been all up in here genetic pool she comes to settle on and Eve isn't sure how she feels about that.
“I was thinking of how to do the same thing once this is all over, truly over.” A thought for another day if it becomes necessary. “It doesn't like to be forgotten. Needy son of a Bitch hm?” Eve taps the sides of her chair and teeters from side to side. “The Adam and Corona issue are deeply connected,” stating the obvious. “I'm on his trail.”
“Just look for Praxis,” Richard breathes out a rough snort, “That’s his army right there, Eve.”
The phone’s slid into his jacket, and he shakes his head, “Old records. Company records, Institute records… bits, pieces,” he admits, “I’ve been digging pretty thoroughly, and finding some interesting tidbits. They left enough so someone could learn what happened by inference rather than telling them directly.”
A moment’s hesitation before he notes, “You may already be infected, though, if you’ve been dreaming about them.”
Eve’s head tilts as she studies Richard, “Ah of course.” The fact that she has actually already started that investigation with people one including Richard's own head of security isn't spoken, once there is fruit that drops from that in time. “Digging deep is the only way to know, watch your fingers and toes for infection.” Which she might already have indeed.
“It has spread already, containment is..” a grimace, “An action we have passed the opportunity to enact.” The pale woman taps her toe, fidgety. “I would seek out a way to purge it from my system but maybe Odessa and I can be of help somehow.” That connection ran deep and maybe the two women could find a way to use it to their advantage. It's a dim hope but something rather than nothing. “There's an errand a few friends and I are going to finish soon.”
Pale fingertips flutter in the air as she watches a nearby woman do the splits before her body shifts and shimmers and instead of a leggy blonde there's a dark haired tan curvy woman now dancing on the stage. The man sitting in front claps wildly as he throws dollar bills on the stage. Eve’s lips curl into a devilish smile, eerie in the club’s lights. “I'll let you know how it goes.”
“I think we need to do more than that…” Richard’s gaze is briefly distracted by the shape-changing stripper, and then he pulls it back towards Eve, “…I think we should have a meeting, and brief the— usual suspects, and the new ones. We can’t keep everything under shadows like we used to.”
“We’re going to need help.”
Continuing to eye the stripper she nods idly, “I do do agree. I've begun a open line of communication to our new government. Let's send invites to the usual folks and yes yes we do have some new ones involved don't we?” Eve drains the last of her water glass and slams it on the table.
“Cat’s is discreet but your offices offer a more professional setting. Or we pick somewhere entirely neutral.” Like the old days, some habits do die hard. “I'm not opposed to any.” Looking over her shoulder Eve squints but sees nothing as doesn't comment on what she sees. Turning her had slowly, dark mane of hair rustling she plants a somber look on her face. “We’ll figure this out, grains of sand are falling through the tiny crack, slowly losing time but there is that, time.”
Scooting herself back, Eve lays her arm on the back of the chair. “Let's set it for two weeks from now.” Plenty of time for people to get ready.
“I can clear a conference room,” Richard says, head turning to watch the stripper spin ‘round the pole on the stage, “Plenty of room, and security as well… and I could put some of the relevant prophecies up the screen.”
A glance to her, and he says quietly, “Two weeks it is. Let’s hope that we have enough time to do what needs doing.”
“Wonderful. I'll bring some of the physical copies I have.” Debating on if she’ll bring the one she has of herself dead. Eve has nothing to hide and everything to gain by sharing the information and with that settled she raises her hand to receive a real drink from the topless waitress. As the pretty black haired woman walks away to fulfill Eve’s order her eyes twinkle in the lights bearing down on the stage and the dancer who shifts again this time to a petite redhead does a twirl around the pole and winks towards the pair sitting not too far.
“Hand me a twenty.”
They’ve got to make it rain before they leave it's common courtesy, “For Valerie!”