Participants:
| Scene Title | This Time We'll Try A Tank |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Warren's idea is in play and Elisabeth joins him… only to be given some unexpected information |
| Date | Feb 17, 2011 |
Shalegate Factory (Actually the inside of a tank, mostly.)
When Elisabeth arrives she'll find that there are two police cars right outside, the cops being instructed by one of the factory's managers on safey rules and such when they escort the tank. There are a few people around, all of them looking official or seemingly preparing for things, while Warren himself is sitting on top of the tank with his legs inside of the top. "Elisabeth! Come over here, we'll start moving soon, so I need to go over a few things with you."
This is followed by him climbing down into the massive machine, taking his seat at the controls on the left side of the tank. He's actually somewhat festive for the occasion, wearing green camo cargo pants, a black tanktop, some dog tags that say 'Lots of Names', and a green camo helmet. About the only think from his old outfit are his brown boots.
Elisabeth's wearing her usual black-on-black cargo pants and pullover, and she sheds the heavy black flight jacket as she climbs into the tighter confines of the tank. As she slides into her own position, Elisabeth's demeanor is more grim than when they last met. "Warren, you need to make sure that anyone around this tank gives us at least a 20-foot clearance when we go to start this," she murmurs. She doesn't verbalize the thought that they're on a fool's errand in this. After what she's already seen, she doubts this has a snowball's chance of working.
"The dome is the least of our concerns." Warren says the very second the entrance of the tank slams shut, turning around in his chair to face her. His tone is immediately serious, and he raises what appears to be a slightly modified iPhone to show her. "I've already had this backed up on multiple offline drives. But I saw the Institute's underground… well, it's essentially an entire underground city, forget a building. It was their home base. And my machine, they used it, and I believe Broome implied that I've woken my father up from his coma. My father was babbling, saying lots of things that made no sense, and at the same time, I got his message that I built the machine to receive, only… it's not quite what I was expecting."
That's when he nods down to the phone, and looks back up to her. "He sent a massive amount of data, I haven't gotten a chance to look at any of it. And I have to go back to the Institute for another meeting tomorrow."
What? Elisabeth looks startled at his first words, but nothing he says about the Institute surprises her in the slightest. "I've already seen the Arcology," she admits quietly. "They offered me a job at one time." News to him, she's quite sure. Reaching out to take the phone, she quirks a brow. "What is your second meeting about if you've already woken Edward?" she asks, leaving off the 'fucking Ray' part, but it's pretty evident in her tone. The man is a bastard.
"That's the thing, Broome quoted something I apparently say in the future, as if he knows me or something, like I'm some important person." Warren might have to ask about her job offer later, for now looking quite surprised that someone could quote him from the future. "I think I'm supposed to meet someone who knows about my future, or something… and 'all of my questions will be answered'."
Elisabeth sighs heavily. "Fuck," she says succintly. Leaning back in the seat, she asks quietly, "Have you met the head of the Institute yet, Warren?"
"I just assumed Broome was the head, I'd never met him before yesterday, and the way he talks it's as if he created the Institute." Warren answers with a slight head tilt, and motions to the chair on the right side of the tank for her to sit in. Then he's turning his chair around, starting to flick switches and press buttons to begin activating the tank.
Now the blonde is silent. How much to say and how much to let Broome tell him. Or, God forbid, the man inhabiting Tyler Case's brain. She turns her chair a bit, settling into position. She doesn't have much to do as they get rolling. "Simon Broome is the….. public face of the Institute. He did start it, after some years of planning with the man who is behind the facade." Elisabeth bites her lip.
"Warren…. when you go up there, the guy behind everything is a time traveler. From … some 20 years from now. He is adamant that his version of the future must come to pass. And frankly, so far as I can tell, it's for entirely personal reasons. He's lost so much that he's unwilling to take the chance on what happens if we change what is our future. He's going to tell you a lot of things. And all of them are going to make sense. They're going to sound like the right things to do. But he's very adept at giving only parts of the story… enough truth to make you want to do the things he wants to do because they're only logical and reasonable." Her tone is quiet. "And when you meet him, he's going to tell you that I'm …. misguided, at best. That he's just trying to save us all. I don't know how to help you handle it."
"Sit down." Warren finally says, as he seems to be ready to start moving. "Elisabeth… fundamentally, deep down, I have no idea who I am. There are parts of me missing, important parts. I can't rule out that somehow, some way, they bring back some important childhood memory, or a memory from my recent past that somehow makes me agree with them. I don't know what kind of powers or resources they have."
He turns to face her, just a hint of vulnerability, and possibly fear in his eyes. "Even listening to what you're saying now, I can never know when they'll bring something back, or if this is all some elaborate plan and they have trigger words or something. So when I come back from this meeting tomorrow, no matter what I say, I want to be checked by a telepath. I want to be who I am now, I want to stay me. I don't want to be someone you could hate again, and I trust you to help me stay who I am now."
She straps in for the ride at his order. And she still refuses to look toward him. But Elisabeth promises quietly, "I'll have a telepath check you over, Warren. I promise you that." She reaches up and rubs her forehead. And finally she looks toward him. "But I need your word on something as well." It's beyond difficult for her to say. "I need you to remember or record every single thing that happens to you up there. I don't know what they're going to tell you… what you'll learn, not just about yourself or Edward Ray but about …. me. And other people. I need you ….. to remember that you have told me that you trust me. And whatever they say to you…. you can trust me. I won't promise that I'm always right or that I always know what I'm doing. But I do know …. that in spite of what the man running things up there is trying to do, he's doing it the wrong way."
"Hey, Elisabeth, you know you don't have to worry about that. Let me see how I can put this in words… I have my memories of people, right? But they're like flashes of things from people with entirely different motivations. I mean, I can understand my actions on some level, but in the end it's like looking from someone else's eyes. Now, I want you to think about how long I've been me." Warren motions over himself, sitting back as he gets comfortable in the seat. "I've known you for almost that entire time, and I have memories of you before that. You're, quite honestly, one of my closest friends, and I wouldn't just let someone in an evil organization just change that. But you don't have to worry, I'll find a way to record, everything in that underground facility is analog technology."
"No, Warren… I don't know that I don't have to worry about that," Elisabeth retorts. "The you that I know right now is not the first you that I've met, and I know what those people up there are capable of. Torture is the least of it. Making you do something that you say you don't want to do? It would be a piece of cake for them, I'm sure." She sighs, glancing out the tiny portholes as the tank moves along its path toward the dome. "And given what I know the other person in your head is capable of, I find myself always watching with you."
There's a faint smile, not really one of amusement, on Elisabeth's lips. "The organization isn't evil. Like all the rest of us, they're trying desperately to work within the information they have to make things better. But…. sometimes one person's definition of 'better' is someone else's definition of 'never meant to be'." She clenches her jaw. "There are a lot of things going on that you don't know about and I don't know that I should tell you. Your ties to the Institute are… worrisome. So just…. I guess keep your ears open while you're there."
"I'm told that the killer in my head is completely gone, that the memories were destroyed. But I won't know anything for sure until I have a telepath. I just don't want to die, even mentally." Warren places a hand to his chest, shaking his head. "I don't know if you can understand, but the idea that three of me have already died, not even counting whoever I was as a teenager and a child, it makes me afraid. I don't want to disappear like all of the other me's."
Well, that Elisabeth can understand somewhat. She glances at him. "I'll do what I can, Warren. I promise." There's a sigh and she pulls them back on task. "You do realize that this is highly unlikely to work, right?"
"If people stopped building and testing things because of silly things like 'safety', 'this is unlikely to work', or 'you want to do what with a tank'? The Hindenburg would never have been built." Warren states with a firm nod, pushing forward as one police car drives in front of them, and the other behind. For all that he's now sane, he still holds a bit of eccentric insanity that is thankfully completely harmless now.
Rolling her blue eyes, Elisabeth drops her head back against the seat. "Wake me when we get there," she tells him drily. "It might be the only 20 minutes I get to sleep today."
