Participants:
| Scene Title | The Witness |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Eve drops in as a bearer of Eggos, bad news about waffle recalls and unfortunate burdens. |
| Date | December 12, 2017 |
Resistance Base Camp
The cool morning wind drifts through the latest Resistance encampment and though they don't have much, an extra tent not very big was given to Isabelle and Shaw. The two lay curled up on the ground with a blanket thrown over them, less to keep them warm than to maybe protect some of their modesty because their naked, the air in the tent is a nice lukewarm, default for Isa and Shaw would have grown used to being close to this source of heat.
A light hum sounds from outside of the tent and Isa’s nose scrunches up but she doesn't wake fully not yet. The dark haired woman snuggles in closer to Shaw’s bare chest and snores lightly. The tap of something comes along with the hum and soon a dark shadow can be seen standing outside of the couple’s tent. Hands on its hips, the figure sways and then leans forward, slipping inside the unzipped tent and a pale hand proceeds the face of Eve Mas, Leader, Terrorist, Forever Almighty— you get the deal. The pale woman’s red hair is tousled as if she had just woken up or had not really slept.
“GOOD MORNING MY SHINING STARS!”
Isa’s hazel eyes fly open and look confused as she tries to gather what the fuck.. then that voice. Familiar… like fucking nails on a chalkboard. “Oh hell no!!” Throwing her blanket off Isa rears back from the seer, remembering her from the Hub.
“Bitch back your crazy fucking ass up!”
The lean-to tent's supposed to be for a single person, but the way Shaw has been virtually inseparable from Isa's vicinity, they may as well count as a single unit. Using his hoodie and pack as a pillow, the man stirs, curled and tangled limbs around Isa twitch as she snuggles closer. He's having a rough time of adjusting back to sleeping on harder surfaces, even if their sleep is only in fitful snatches between other fitful activities within the privacy of the tent. When they've been awake, Isa sees the signs of his reverting to a more nervous, paranoid spirit.
The rude awakening results in a startled jumpy-cat-like scramble, an attempt to stand failing as Shaw finds his face slapped with the rough blanket that Isa throws off of herself. Wild hands flail amongst other exposed body parts as he smashes himself face first into the corner of the tiny tent, kicking out then withdrawing into a fetal positioned ball. His large, dark eyes stare around, finding Isa first, then landing on Eve. Shaw blinks rapidly, confusion evident, quick and shallow breaths mirroring the suddenly pounding heartbeat in his ears.
"Wh-what's going on?" he utters weakly.
“Whoa whoa are you hot like fireeeeee,” Eve calls out over her shoulder and then she's leveling Shaw and the pyrokinetic with a curious stare. “I wanted to talk, I come be-”
“Nope.”
Isabelle’s furious answer is thrown at Eve and she crawls to her feet, yanking her tank top and pants and barreling past Eve to stalk into the night butt ass naked. She’ll put those clothes on eventually but she does not have time to deal with Eve of all people, this place really was hell. Sorry bae.
“She must have known another me, poor girl.” Frowning faintly the oracle takes a moment to study Shaw now, left alone in the tent with the crazy woman. There's a minute long silence as Shaw’s wide eyed gaze of shock is matched by Eve’s manic look laced with the morning buzz, she smoked her medicine a few hours ago. Might be time for another dose, she could only do the two and then that was it a day but the vengeful spirit that is Eve had already begun stretching herself past her limits in order to piece the puzzle together longer.
Snatching another joint out of her cleavage, the seer sticks it in her mouth before flicking a lighter and backing away out into the open for Shaw to follow when he's uh, dressed. “I was gonna ask her to light this,” smoke trailing off in the wind behind her a few loose strands blown with the current. “Anyway, like I said,” digging into her trench coat pocket to pull out two eggos. Not toasted totally but just a little. “There was a porcupine that kept telling me to save the last two eggos. I was sure it was a metaphor but then I heard of your.. waffle problem.” Waving them in her hands for Shaw she backs out of the tent. He can take the treat if he wishes, her Cheshire Cat smile white and gleaming in the morning light.
"Eanqa', wait!" Shaw nearly trips on the blanket again as he calls after the fleeing, naked form of Isabelle. But where the pyro is angry and brashly exiting the tent, Shaw finds himself paralyzed and exhausted by the sheer overwhelming nature of the moment. He watches as Eve pulls out the joint and backs out of the tent enough to give some more space.
Her words might not make much sense, but the appearance of the easy breakfast waffles, those bright yellow discs, catches Shaw's eye. The man glances down to the messy bedroll where he had just been sleeping, then back up to the offerings. After a pause, he dares to move forward, letting go of the blanket in favor of snagging his hoodie and cargo pants from the night the group had made the jump through timelines.
His hand hovers over the tool belt that serves as a makeshift gun holster, but he ultimately decides to leave the weapons behind. Instead, Shaw emerges from the tent in search of the Eggo-bearing Eve. He casts about for Isabelle too, and sighs when he doesn't see her. Lose one pyrokinetic, get two Eggos. Is it fair? Maybe not.
“Ah! He hungers! A great and mighty warrior,” Eve’s gaze trails after the pyro who has stalked off behind a burnt out building. “You're protecting her huh?” A knowing expression on her face, “I was in love with a man who controlled fire once, they are… fascinating creatures wouldn't you say my friend?” There's a frown at the memory of Cameron, just another life now that she couldn't save. Couldn't interpret the vision, she hasn’t forgiven herself since it happened but that transgression is piled upon by the many people that came after Cameron that she couldn't save. She stopped counting awhile ago.
Tossing an eggo over to the shorter man, Eve crouches in the dirt for a moment as she tears into her easy bake waffle like an animal, strands of red hair clinging to her lips before she stops suddenly and regards Shaw with a curious stare. “What's your name Doe? Those eyes are just as wide… innocence.” Eve’s smile is gleeful as she winks over at him, her attitude is relaxed. She doesn't reek of authority, this couldn't be the woman leading a group of the Resistance. “You’ve seen things. I can always tell when people have a good story. Call it an instinct.” There is a glint of something else behind that enthusiastic grin.
A wariness colors Shaw’s darting, blinking gaze before it settles back upon Eve. He resists the urge to hunch inward at the seer’s comment paid him about being a great and mighty warrior, bobbing his head in a short nod to confirm that it is his intent to protect his phoenix from the depressing environment as much as she protects him in return. “I would say she’s… she’s very catching,” is his soft reply. The descriptive pun is, in fact, intended. Although Shaw’s smile is more of grimace than grin.
He snags the Eggo from the air when it’s tossed his way. The breakfast food is examined, then carefully torn in half, one half finding its way into his mouth, but the other he takes out a handkerchief from his hoodie pocket and folds it in. The half-waffle is squirreled away into that same hoodie pocket, intended to be shared with his fiery-tempered companion later. At least Izzy can reheat it if she needs to.
The question Eve asks for his name, despite giving one that also doubles in pun-like dual-meaning manner, gets another faint, shy smile from Shaw. He politely swallows before answering. “Morris. Er… actually, my name is Shahid. But everyone calls me Shaw.” He blinks those large, dark eyes at Eve owlishly. “You’ve seen things too. Heard lots of stories. Made lots of Trouble.” The capital T in Trouble is audible, the way he says it. Even in the short time the travelers have been in the camp, he’s been watching, listening. Witnessing the drama of their newest world unfolding.
The Eggo is a little cold, a little stiff, but Shaw nibbles at it intermittently like he’s savoring the dry, processed food flavor. It’s one he wants to remember anyway.
“Thoughtful,” Eve says around the last of her Eggo as Shaw saves the other half for his other half. Sweet really, still not jaded and everything he's gone through, the slightly scary woman looks at Shaw with renewed interest as she grazes the ground with her fingertips, dragging bits of dirt along in a trail slowly making a spiral.
“Witness. My my my,” Eve’s smile grows wider, “I knew I should be speaking to you.” Red Hair ruffled in the chill wind.
“I have, I have.” Waving her hand off at him, “I am meant to see so I do. You see because you care to look. So tell me Witness.. what was home like?” The creases of her eyes evident as she grins and leans forward, “You’ve made the Great Journey, more than once! Not many can say that.” Peering down at his arm,”How does the body withstand it, fascinating.”
“Isabelle said there were waffles,” Shaw murmurs around the last bit of Eggo thoughtfully. So it wasn’t a lie. Faith restored. His eyes peer at the prophet right back as she describes the meaning to his name, surprised still by her knowledge, awed by it though his gaze skitters down to the spirals she’s drawn with her fingertips.
It’s like he can feel her eyes on him. Shaw curls his arms inward as he slowly rocks back from folded squat into a seat right on the ground in front of the tent like he were having a front porch conversation with the Resistance leader. “Home?” The word, said with a pang of sadness, comes with a sniffle. Shaw rubs a knuckle against the edge of an eye, warding off the urge of tears. In its place he sets his jaw and tries to act tough like the other people he’s seen around the camp. “This is home now,” he states aloud, conviction half-baked and wholly-faked. “My family and friends are here. I am here. This is home.”
“But.”
“But Before-home was… nice. Busy. Coffee smells and pizza and car horns and footsteps. And music. Books. Everything was bright and… sometimes on fire.” And in some rare moments towards the end of it, explosions. Shaw scratches at the beard coming back in on his jaw, glancing back to the seer. “Before-before-home was really bad. Cold a lot, no light. There were lights, because, Lynette… Lynette helped. She was like Lynette here. But not like Okhti, though… Which is why we—”
Shaw abruptly stops, thoughts struck from mind and replaced by another more immediate turn. He stares at Eve, brows lifting with a strong sense of hope. “You know where Manuel is?” But of course, the man doesn’t realize that Lynette and Mateo have likely already asked the Resistance leader this question.
“Ah ah well she wasn't wrong not completely. There were and there will be. You've caught us at a recall, did you hear the horrible stories? God the toilets will never be the same.” Whether she's joking or not isn't all that apparent. “The Eggos will do for now yes?” Eve’s smile and is intimidating because she bares her teeth like a hunter.
Listening to him tell her of the other rivers or worlds has Eve staring at him intently drinking in every word, “The before-before sounds like this one. I'm sorry you've returned in a sense.” A smirk, “Lady Zeus is one thing at all times, strong.” Eve comments as her hand continue their work in the dark now stick figures being etched near the spiral. “Pizza I miss that, pepperoni with pineapple and ranch. My father said I wasn't of his blood.”
Round the subject of family Eve tilts her head, “I'm unsure.. but,” a wicked smile crosses Eve’s lips. “I've been meaning to dip my face under the surface.” Eyelid flutter as Eve’s breath goes still and she falls to her back with a soft exhale of it. Brown eyes milk over and her hand twitches and curls into talons that flex with the twitches of her body. “Runrunrun..” She whispers as she milk white eyes search a place not here but other. Screams echo in Eve’s mind, a cry then nothing. It all lasts for less than ten seconds before she's surfing forward with a cough and shaking her head with a , “Wow!” Rubbing her forehead furiously and patting the ground before looking up toward the sky, “You raining on my parade here! Gimme a B! Christ!”
“I'm sorry he isn't here. Not like that. Not like this. He is home as well. You must find his and then your final home. No more hopping, no more swimming unless you break into the public pool,” which by her tone Eve endorses such an act.
A waffle recall? Shaw blinks his wide eyes in full belief that Eve is telling the truth. How horrible! He nods in a couple of short, shallow movements more like a head bob than a nod as he accepts that Eggos will simply have to do right now. And hopefully Isabelle will accept her half without too much grumbling either. As he goes on to tell about the other timelines, he looks just as surprised when Eve talks about her choice of pizza toppings. Shaw makes a face, too, one completely uncertain about her choice of pizza toppings working out as tasty as she might imagine. “Ummm okay,” mumbles Shaw as he slides a hand through lengthening hair, ending with fingers cupped around the back of his neck.
The hesitation continues as Shaw witnesses the seer take on a live vision with a sort of fascination, studying the way her eyes change, her body and fingers twitch, her whispers. He jumps, startled when she coughs and comes out of it back into the present. Then, he looks puzzled and concerned all at once. The man has so many questions, but he’s slow to sort through. “He’s not here,” Shaw echoes softly, eyes downcast and brow furrowing slightly, “Not like this. Better? Or worse?” Poor Manuel, wherever the young boy is, his uncle is worried.
“But… how? How do we keep going? Ruiz and Lynette, their powers changed. And, oh, poor memna must miss her brother,” he speaks of the Ruizes, pain in his tone for the family. He had gone along with the plan, clearly following the family he’d come with as if they were his own. “And then Magnes and Elaine and Adell, and Elisabeth and Aurora, and…” Shaw swallows roughly, fighting a glistening sheen of tears as he folds down to sit on the ground, curling arms around drawn-up knees. “Everything is so broken, robots and people,” he laments, putting his head down on his knees too.
“Nope and I’d say if he's not here.. and he's not in the Shiny place.. and he's not from your dead world.. then there are.. two options. Maybe. Maybe not, one movement the flick of a wrist and things can shift. It's not an exact science,” for some maybe it was for Eve it was a feeling. “I have faith you will find him though. Otter Eyes.. has a bit more to go. He can make it.” There's confidence there that just does not reflect the relationship she has with her own timeline’s Mateo Ruiz. “You will too, oh pfffft.” Waving her hand.
“Gifts exchanged hand to hand doesn't mean they’re useless silly.” A shake of her head with that devilish grin on her face, “They’ll need to be trained.” It's as simple as that in Eve’s mind, “You must support them, nudge them in the right direction. It's our duty.” Taking a serious tone as Shaw’s demeanor descends into tears and ragged emotions. “Ahhh, ahhh my dear. Ah ah ah.”
Swiftly moving to Shaw’s side, Eve crouches and places a hand on his cheek, “No no don’t you worry about the robots. You won't be here forever. That I can promise, you have places to be! This is a pit stop. Don't you worry. Shhh shhh.” Clutching Shaw’s face and shoving it in her bosom she shakes him from side to side, “No time for tears, just inspire some fear.”
Shaw doesn’t expect the intimacy of the contact, but being upset he doesn’t reject the comforting gesture either. The man shudders with withheld tears, eyes squeezed shut as he breathes in and out, remembering to do so in a method of calming as Isabelle had had him practice with her. The pyro needed to get her emotions in check too, and he thought it only appropriate that he join her in the meditative motions.
His heartbeat eventually subsides in its frantic pace, and he slowly pulls away from Eve’s chest with a soft apology and a brush of the back of his hand against his eyes and nose. “Our duty?” he asks after regaining a bit of composure, looking up at the seer with red-edged eyes that widen as he rewinds on Eve’s words. “How do we do that… why do we want to scare…” He certainly doesn’t look intimidating, or at least Shaw doesn’t think he does. But, there are the guns. Those are scary enough. Shaw’s brow knits together, and he glances around again at the open spaces around the camp where others haven’t woken up yet. Then it’s back to staring at the seer.
“Are you all going to come with us too?” he asks eventually, words weighing heavy despite the softly asked question. The destination is unknown to him, but Shaw waits, anticipates, the visionary’s reply. In his dark eyed gaze, a flicker of hopefulness.
“Yes Witness, your duty. To be the strength that the others don't know they need, most times they might not even recognize he who bears witness more than he speaks..” Eve pats Shaw’s cheek, “You can see clearer than a bald eagle, hear better than a mongoose in heat, you have all that's necessary to watch and assist.” The pale woman speaks with such seriousness to Shaw, something that's not often afforded to many other people. They are kindred spirits, the storms that are their brains are not blockades, just stepping stones to a new level. A new way of being.
“No no you cannot doubt yourself, you know honey.” Poking Shaw’s forehead, “Micromanaging has never been my thing really, you'll have to find another kooky person who sees for that.” A wave of her hand for how, “You inspire fear so that the others know you aren't to be trifled with.” Speaking as if he should know this, an old friend berating their friend for their cluelessness but Eve’s resonates with love and understanding.
“No no my dear Witness, as you must witness to the rest of this journey and be the rock for your brother to lean on..” Eve's expression grows dark and she looks over her surroundings, “I must witness here and make as much of this green again as I can.” She promises that.
As the seer’s words sink in that he has a duty, an important one, his eyes grow wide again. Doubtful, at least, until she says not to be. Shaw blinks wet eyes as he’s poked in the forehead, eyes squinting as one does when some object such as a finger comes close between. “Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to…” Shaw hunches his shoulders, furtively shifting his gaze away to their surroundings. The worst part is already shown around them, in the dirty browns and rust and bloodshed.
His whisper intones deeply, “Suffering.” Indeed, the people in this timeline are suffering.
When he turns back to Eve, Shaw wets his lips and then sucks in another steadying breath. Courage wells in him once he latches on to her reminder of Ruiz, and the family he’s come to consider his. He cups his hand on the arm across it. Scanning the horizon and around them, he searches for movement, for Isabelle. “Green means go,” he says after a couple of beats.