Participants:
| Scene Title | The Sun Also Rises |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | In a place where one suddenly finds oneself with nothing, the most logical thing to do is ask for help. Abby delivers. |
| Date | April 8, 2019 |
Dorchester Towers: Elisabeth's Apartment
The luscious, vast, verdant sprawl of Unity Park had roused strong emotions in all seeing it for their very first time. It is doubtful that a single one of that group, standing up on the rooftop and gazing outwards in unison, failed to feel -something-. And yet in Elle, those emotions are mixed; ambivalence is mixed with bitterness, not to mention a growing sense of misgiving.
The chance to get the healer alone comes soon enough. After both Abby and she have departed from the rooftop, Elle waits about a minute before branching off and following more directly after. "Abigail?" she calls. If she should turn around, she'll turn to see that Elle has halted and is looking at her, those inscrutable blue eyes already trained on her face.
"Elle?" The scrub wearing woman with her hair up stops in her path back down, leaving some people upstairs and others in the apartment. Near matching blue eye slook back, little tired, it's been a long night and morning for her. Her nursing sneakers stay anchored on teh floor, blonde head tilted just a fraction to the right and waiting.
There are no verbal signs to indicate as such, and there will not be, but the hard look in Elle's eyes is partly due to the words of Abigail herself. All that about Phoenix being preserved in time immemorial - that none of them would be forgotten? None of them? "I need to know about the Company." She takes a few steps forward so that the two women are facing each other more directly. "What happened to it. You said something about them, back inside."
"They're gone Elle. Late 2009 I think. Roger goodman went on Television and told all. Goverment declared them and it's activities illegal. They were arresting people the following year. Everyone they could get their hands on. Cat would be the better person to talk to" There's a gesture down teh hall. "Pamnesiac. Her mind is like a steel trap, nothing escapes it. But, they're no more. It coming out, it caused alot of damage, but in the end, it helped, oddly. It was the catalyst for everything. Goodman didn't spare anyone" Blue eyes still stay locked on the other blonde.
Eyes staying just as wide, Elle's eyebrows lower incredulously. "Goodman?" she repeats. "That can't be right. Why would Goodman—? He's a Company executive. He'd never betray us like that." She's speaking as though she's still in the present. Her present.
"Pinehearst" Abby answers. "I guess, he didn't like what the company was doing" that's her only offer for understanding.
Elle has already tucked away this information inside her brain, ready to pull it out again later. There's a few people back home who will be very interested in hearing about this: late 2009 isn't long at all from the date she had left in her timeline. In fact, it's terrifyingly close.
If she ever gets home again, that is.
"And what did you say happened to the people who worked for them?" This is one of the main questions she had come to ask. But it is also a question with which she isn't looking forward to hearing the answer.
"Most, far as I know, are serving time in prison. Some were executed. Angela Petrelli, Daniel Linderman, Nathan Petrelli" Abby seems to have infinite patience for the questions. Comes with the territory of a 4 and 2 year old. "Company is a pretty reviled group. For their bags and tag's of people. Kidnapping" She says the last word with some distaste that isn't reserved for the company but more for the term period.
Oh, lovely. Just what Elle had thought she had heard the first time, but now the truth is confirmed for her again. "You do know, right, that I'm a Company agent. Right now. In my time." The last part feels kind of weird to say, her tone sardonic.
Without pausing for a response to this: "Abigail, I need your help. If you don't want to help someone so— reviled, fine. Whatever." She takes a slightly deeper breath. "But you took the time to heal me, and it wouldn't make a lot of sense for you to just decide to leave me cold." At least, that's what she's hoping. The Southern woman seems like One of Those People who's just chronically nice no matter what.
She is. Chronically nice. Altruistic even. She could be making millions, just doing what she does, and instead? Instead she opts to work for much less, and for more hours. "And i've met a few in my time Elle. I've also dealt with them in the time you came from. Not everyone who meets the haitian forget they have. Depends upon what you need" Which seques into the unspoken 'what do you want'.
Another source of surprise. That Abby has met the Haitian. Elle doesn't ask how, or why, but instead proceeds to her point. "You said yourself what Phoenix was. Heroes. They'll be welcomed here with opened arms." As she speaks of most of her fellow time-travelers, the wry note comes into her voice again. "But me? Yeah, I don't have anything. No Company I can go to here. If you and your friends could—I don't know." Her gaze flickers elsewhere for a second, then straightens back.
It's implied. At least one person take her under their wing, or at the very least, give her a temporary shelter between herself and the storm: some measure of protection that would be impossible otherwise. She has no money, no home here, and if she used her real name outside, somebody might just recognize it from all the negative publicity years ago.
She can't take that chance.
Abby, by contrast, might be able to help a little as far as that's concerned. Or find someone who can.
"Don't electrocute my kids or my boyfriend. Or my dinnerguests, and your welcome in my Home Elle" It's a given the woman won't electrocute her kids, but the dinner guests. Well. She offers her hand out to the woman. "I'm sure we'll think of something. If we can't get you back to where you should be, then by gosh we'll get you to where you can live a life and not snatching evo's off the street. heck, I own half a bar. I could get you a job there. My Names Abigail Beauchamp Elle. Faith Healer. Pleasure to meet you" There's a smile. "Lets head back in, see if we can't get folks settled. I've had a long night at the hospital and I could sure use some sleep soon"
Elle blinks at the warmth and immediacy of the reply. Almost too easy. Whatever the woman says about living a life and not snatching poor Evolved folk off the street, that all just sort of breezes above her head— it's the welcome that she cares about, that has her drawn in like a moth to flame. She takes Abby's hand in a firm grip, drawing her hand away early and with a slight hesitance.
A tiny puff of breath leaves her mouth. And then her lips are drawn into a muted, still-surprised smile, the look in her eyes similar. "Thanks."
Bedtime sounds wonderful right now; few people -have- had such a long night. She'll follow Abby willingly inside, still reeling a little from the newest wave of heaviness that washes over her. Maybe this'll work out, maybe it won't.
Whatever the world decides to throw, it'll have to wait until morning.
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