Participants:
| Scene Title | The Red Right Hand |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | The true force behind the Institute arises. |
| Date | October 5, 2010 |
Sweeping one hand across fogged up glass, he stares into eyes that he does not recognize.
Take a little walk to the edge of town, go across the tracks
Bare, scarred flesh is reflected in a wall of tall mirrors, broad and muscular shoulders pock-marked with tiny and long since healed abrasions, s blossomed scar of a gunshot wound on the right shoulder, a two inch long incision to the side of a washboard stomach, more surgical looking than from an unexpected injury. Staring at himself in the mirror, towel draped over one shoulder and steam rising off of damp skin, Tyler Case offers an unfamiliar smile into the foggy mirror.
Where the viaduct looms like a bird of doom, as it shifts and cracks
A soft, white towel lands down on the tiled floor by bare feet tracking watery footsteps as they carry Tyler over towards a black dressing screen where dark clothing hangs on hooks. His eyes catch a view of his profile in the mirror again, and pausing mid-stride Tyler arches one brow, lifting up a hand to rub at his stubbled chin. Lips purse and shift to the side, his hand turns his head left, then right, inspecting his face as if for the first time. Moving over to the pillar sink in front of the mirrored wall, he reaches down for a straight razor sitting on the side of the porcelain sink, then a bowl and brush holding shaving cream.
Where secrets lie in the border fires, in the humming wires
The razor slides crisp across the skin of his throat, scraping upwards and clearing away the white froth covering throat and jaw, clearing away stubble to a smooth, clean cut. The gleaming blade is deftly handles, moved up across the side of his face, clearing away wide swaths of white foam. Then, pausing and inspecting his bare skin, Tyler lifts the razor to the already shaved spot, and slides the blade along his skin in a straight line, brief and short, enough enough to draw a bead of blood. He winces at the sensation of pain, looks surprised into the mirror, and then exhaled an exasperated laugh.
Hey man you know you're never coming back
Clean shaved, Tyler turns and walks back towards the dressing screen, a tiny red nick on his cheek where he'd tested himself, tested his reality. Briefs and slacks sized for his new body come on, pressed black cloth with faint charcoal pinstripes, a wide black belt with clinking silver buckle. When the belt cinches shut, Tyler lifts up his hands, flexing his fingers open and closed, then reaches up to pull down the black button-down shirt off of the screen.
Past the square, past the bridge, past the mills past the stacks
The shirt slides on with a soft rustle of dark fabric, flows open and then settled down at his side, thick fingers working the buttons all the way up to the collar as he watches himself in the mirror. He stops at the top button, eyes narrowing as his fingers tug at his throat, one corner of his lips creep up and he unfastens the button he'd just done, then flicks the collar up against the back of his neck. Sleeves are rolled up and buttoned, then the shirt dutifully tucked in.
On a gathering storm comes a tall handsome man
A double-breasted suit jacket is thrown over his shoulders, collar adjusted and arms stretching out to check the fit — perfect. Sliding his thumb over his chin and looking at himself in the mirror, Tyler lets out a gruff laugh, looking down to his hands again as his fingers curl shut, then slowly open creating crackling sparks of vibrant red lightning that arc and snap away from his skin.
In a dusty black coat with a red right hand.
With a clunk, one black, patent leather shoe comes up against the molded plastic bench, fingers work over the laces, tugging them tight one shoe at a time. Brushing his palm over the toe of one shoe to smooth away a single scuff, Tyler looks down at the patterning of the leather, then up to the black tile walls and the dark ceiling with its recessed lights, eyes narrowing reflexively at the light before his smile returns again. Appreciative of the little things in life, now that he can appreciate them again.
He'll wrap you in his arms tell you that you've been a good boy
Now he's a black silhouette in the mirror, all inky shades and charcoal pinstriping. Turning for the door to the shower room, Tyler stops when he spots something that had been left out for him on a peg at the end of a row of lockers. Hanging there, a matching fedora for his pinstriped suit. Brows lift up, lips pull back to reveal bleached white teeth, and as the hat is snatched up and spin around between his fingers, his attention moved from the hat to the shape of a man standing in the shower room door.
He'll rekindle all the dreams it took you a lifetime to destroy.
"You're looking good…" is Simon Broome's nervous greeting, his hands folded behind his back and gray brows furrowed. Sliding his tongue across his lips, his dark eyes hesitantly sweep up the equally dark clothing of his counterpart. "I'm… sorry it took so long to find you, the Company was keeping you from us. Rightfully so, I imagine, but we've gone through great lengths and made many sacrifices to bring you back. It— wasn't supposed to be like this though."
He'll reach deep into the hole, steal your shrinking soul
"Everything happens for a reason," is Tyler's cool answer, one brow lifted and the fedora pressed down atop his head, brows twitching as he moves to step over to Simon's side. "I think this might have been the best accident that could have possibly happened. How's Tyler doing?" There's an arch of one brow as the man who has claimed Tyler's body offers a thoughtful look over Broome's shoulder to the door, then back again.
But there wont be a single thing that you can do
Simon's dark eyes avert down to the floor, and as he turns his body partway towards the exit, his head pivots back up to look at the man in the fedora. "He's confused, he's… he's doing as good as can be imagined. It is fortunate that the accident happened the way it did, Julien's catatonic replicant was originally meant for you, so that we could tailor it to your specifications. We likely won't be able to perform another swap, Doctor Carpenter has said that copying a copy… leads to undesirable side-effects."
He's a god, he's a man, he's a ghost, he's a guru
"We'll find a flesh-manipulator," the darkly-dressed man states with a tilt of his head to the side, one brow raised, "I think I know one we might be able to go to for work, but we'll have to be careful about letting him know too much." Running his fingers over the brim of his fedora, the man in Tyler's body studies Broome for a moment, then looks back to the mirror. "Tyler's ability though… this isn't something I could've predicted."
They're whispering his name though this disappearing land
Dipping his head into a reluctant nod, Simon turns to move for the door, then hesitates. "We've… had some other delays," Simon notes with reluctance, one dark brow lifting as he watches Tyler's expression sag slightly. "Getting everyone on your list, mostly. When we tried to find Angelina Jackman, there was another woman squatting at her residence that we accidentally picked up. We… believe that Angelina may have been murdered by… Samson Gray."
But hidden in his coat is a red right hand
Tyler falls silent, his throat working up and down and head dipping down into a slow nod. "Unfortunate," he explains in a soft tone of voice, "what about the others?" When Tyler's eyes meet Broome's, there is immediate reluctance in Simon's eyes as he looks away and moves for the door, pushing it open and out into the sterile white hall with its glossy, black tiled floor.
You dont own no money? He'll get you some
"We have less than half," is Simon's truthful answer as he folds his wrinkled hands behind his back, walking slow so as to allow Tyler's body to catch up, allowing the younger-looking man to walk side-by-side with him. "Our containment level is at one third, we still have a long way to go before we're at full capacity. The sensory deprivation tanks and the ACTS are keeping clairvoyants from having easy access to viewing inside of our facility. We're still looking for the man you told me about with the ability to block Molly Walker's ability…"
You don't have no car? he'll get you one
Tucking his chin down into a nod, Tyler's parasitic guest already has the cogs in his mind turning, plans forming together and pieces coming into place. "What about Edward?" That seems to be the most crucial piece of the plan, and it elicits an askance look to Broome, and once more the old doctor seems anxious, wringing his hands together behind his back.
You dont have no self respect you feel like an insect
"Edward… is still in a coma following the incident on the roof at Pinehearst." Simon's eyes focus distantly on the floor ahead of him as they walk, "we've managed to have some small success in the man-machine interface that Doctor Luis developed, but unfortunately only a few sentences. Edward is such a delicate situation that we're not certain how best to handle it." Broome glances up to Tyler, then back down to the floor. "We've burned through three telepaths trying to get inside his head."
Well dont you worry buddy 'cause here he comes
Pursing his lips and nodding again, the man in the fedora tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks, walking at a leisurely pace before stopping short in the hallway. "Forget Edward for now," Tyler explains with a roll of his shoulders, earning a look back from Simon and the raise of one brow. "We can get by fine without him, at least for a little while. You mentioned something to me about visions when we were first talking last night, I need you to tell me everything about that."
Through the ghettos and the barrio and the bowery and the slums
Simon's dark eyes narrow before he turns around, and looking back over his shoulder, it's with an incredulous look. Forget Edward was not a part of the plan, and now that things are being changed willy-nilly his control issues are beginning to bubble to the surface. So long of being the man on the top of the totem pole has made it difficult for Simon Broome to take orders again. "The visions," he explains with a tip of his head, "were an unexpected accident resulting from Project Delphi. Your project."
A shadow is cast wherever he stands
One of Tyler's brows lifts, his smile returns in confident fashion. "You said something on the order of several hundred thousand people were affected? That's brilliant. Accident or no, this could be exactly the opportunity we've been looking for. What were the particulars of their visions, how far ahead did they see? Or— was it back?"
Stacks of green paper in his red right hand
"Ahead," Broome intones before turning to walk again, "I think it would be easier if I showed you what we've been working on…" That tantalizing notion has Tyler lifting both brows, huffing out an amused laugh and breaking into stride beside Simon again. It's only a short distance to the end of the hall where the door slides open automatically into the wall, revealing an action room filled with computers and a flat-panel display of the world's continents lit up on one wall with thousands of red hot-spots.
You'll see him in your nightmares, you'll see him in your dreams
Silence falls over Tyler as he steps in, turning his attention around to the scientists sitting at the computer stations, his eyes dip down to one screen showing traffic camera footage, then flick back up to the screen. "What is this?" There's a pinch of his brows together into a furrow, eyes darting from side to side before he turns to look back to Simon again.
He'll appear out of no where but he aint what he seems
"Our operations room. Here, our agents report in sightings of Evolved that match descriptions of the necessities on your list as well as specific individuals. We are also tracking known individuals who experienced a vision during the Delphi accident." Motioning for Tyler to join him over by the large map, Simon motions up to a series of dashed lines moving in helical pattern across the map. "These are satellites we have ready to activate as soon as our technicians are able to disable the countermeasures the Company put in place on them before their collapse. With this system in place and the new Registration system in effect, we can track people by their radioisotope markers or their Registration cards anywhere in the world."
You'll see him in your head, on the TV screen
"It's not active yet?" Tyler asks with his eyes transfixed on the map, reflecting the image of the world lit by thousands of pinpoints of red light, the corners of his mouth twitching in restrained smile. "I want to know the moment this goes online." Then, turning a look askance to Broome, Tyler lifts one brow. "What did they see?"
And hey buddy, I'm warning you to turn it off
"A riot," is Simon's understated response, motioning to the map and touching the New York area with one finger, then another nearby, drawing his hands apart to scale the image larger, expanding to the state, then double-tapping one finger on New York City, causing it to zoom in to a purple-colored and gold-trimmed outline of the five boroughs. "We have reports of violence springing up all over the city, the borough of Queens has been reported in several cases to be set ablaze, riots on Roosevelt Island and Staten Island… the National Guard is called in to restore order and Martial Law is established."
He's a ghost, he's a god, he's a man, he's a guru
Tyler's brows furrow as he listens to the explanation, lips downturning into a frown and eyes narrowing. "This wasn't supposed to happen…" For the barest of moments there's a hint of guilt that flashes across Tyler's face, until his eyes shut and his head dips down, one hand coming up to rub at the side of his right temple, a vein throbbing there, visibly. "I need you to arrange something for me, Simon. As soon as you can."
You're one microscopic cog in his catastrophic plan
"Anything," is the immediate response made by Doctor Broome, affixing his attention on the man at his side. "All you need do is ask."
Designed and directed by his red right hand.
"I need to see Richard Cardinal."
