Three Redheads And A Leisure Suit


cassandra_icon.gif lucille_icon.gif megan_icon.gif

Scene Title Three Redheads and a Leisure Suit
Synopsis Three Redheads meet in Prufrock's bookstore over tea. Discussions of evolved abilities occur.
Date March 18, 2018

Prufrock's Bookstore

This tiny bookstore makes up for quaintness and style what it lacks in size and volume. Brightly-painted red doors are an inviting welcome to the little shop. Within, wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling shelves take up three of the four walls, but for the front. There, the cash wrap doubles as a coffee stand, and the cashiers as baristas.

In front of the counter is a small space for a few customers to sit and drink their coffee comfortably. It's set a little like a living room, with a sofa, a coffee table, and armchairs clustered around it, all shades of red, bronze, and violet. On the coffee table sit a few board games, inviting those who wish to stay and linger to do so.

It wasn't long into the afternoon when Lucille walked into Prufrock's Books, coming into the Safe Zone to visit with family and friends. One of them being Megan but Luce wanted to stop by for a few new books. Prufock's always had cool titles hiding on the shelves. After picking through and finding a few to add to her collection of biology books and science fiction novels she took a seat in the nook that was reserved for the customers to have coffee or tea and now she stirs a cup of ginger tea with a dark emerald green velvet gloved hand, bending down to breathe in the aroma with a close of her blue eyes. A light smile crosses the woman's lips. Books are her peace, diving into those pages could make the world slip away. She always had her nose in a book if she wasn't doing something.

Her clothing loose and dark as she usually wears it for easy movement. Lucille's booted feet are crossed at the ankles and strands of auburn hair fall into her face she sits back into the sofa content on waiting for the tea to cool, content on waiting for her fellow redhead friend.

The brown bag that holds her new finds sits on the coffee table in front of her. She intertwines her fingers as she pours over a book on the body. Study study.

Since her arrival in the safe zone, Cassandra hadn't really had a chance to get out and explore. As a newly-transferred in SESA agent, the first several days of her tenure were taken up with logistics, paperwork, finding a place to live and things like that. The books she had brought with her had been finished and read two times since then. You can only read Stephen King so many times before it gets repetitive so, casting a net around, she found the lone bookstore that operated in the safe zone - Prufrock's books.

Dressed comfortably in a loose jacket, the brunette pushes her way into the store and looks around, taking a deep breath of the smell of the place - coffee mixed with old paper and glue with a smattering of dust. A smell she always loved that reminded her of her childhood. She moved quickly into the bookstore itself, one hand coming out of her pocket to brush along the spines of books as she passed them, heading for the history section by way of the fiction section.

She lingered for a few minutes, picking out several titles before making her way to the counter, paying with cash and then finding a place to sit - the nook - after ordering a warm cup of what the store calls 'bright eyes.' This tea, a mixture of tumeric, ginger, spices, and orange, is exactly what she needed to spark her creativity.

Settling down in one of the chairs, her purchases in the bag by her feet, one book - the first one - opened on her lap, the little brunette lets out a sigh and a smile before taking a sip and starting to read.

The aforementioned fellow redhead is a good deal older than the one drinking tea, but she seems to have a positive energy as she enters the store, smiles toward the person manning the counter, and joins the younger woman with a carefully placed kiss to the top of the head. She learned a long time how to avoid the skin contact — kisses only go to top of head! "Hey, kiddo! 'Bout time you got back down here to visit," Megan teases Lucille lightly. "Let me get a drink, okay? Then you can fill me in on all your crazy deeds."

She leaves the shoulder tote that she's carrying on the floor near Lu's feet and her jacket on the chair, taking only her wallet up to the counter. Meg's clearly just come from the hospital or something, because the clothes she's wearing are easily identifiable as scrubs. She gives Cassandra a pleasant smile as she skirts around her — it's a small place!

The arrival of a new young lady gets a flitting glance towards her but Lucille doesn't say hello or wave just looks for a moment before turning back to her book. Her index finger goes out to underline a passage she's on but then the door opens again and in comes Megan with the kiss on the head, Lucille doesn't stiffen, she's familiar with the woman, very. Another mentor another friend, a former lover of her father? The list goes on.

"Meg," her tone one that's fond and she reaches up a gloved hand to clasp her arm in a greeting. She wears a smile on her lips, Megan looks good. You go girl. Nodding as the other woman goes to get a drink she folds her new biology book closed and fiddles with the silver locket at her neck. Now housing a photo of she, Delia, Russo, Ingrid and Pippa. She had roused the family into it awhile ago now.

The Wolfhound operative takes in the room again now that she won't be reading and will be catching up, Cassandra catches her eye again but she still says nothing. Content in the silence, happy to be seeing her old friend.

Cassandra is sitting quietly, flipping through the pages of a history book on World War II. books on the second civil war don't sell very well, and considering the whole country just went through it, the last thing anyone wanted to do was remember, so the usual fare retreats back into the past, to learn from what happened, and to seek lessons from the dead. She glances up at the counterperson - an older gentleman, falling asleep in his chair - before she closes her book and rests her bare hand on the cover, her eyes closed for a second. She breathes out and strokes the cover of the old book lightly and, after a moment, a man drifts into view among the stacks of books, one open in his hand, scanning it with a fingertip as he makes his way to the counter.

Dressed in a very 70's suit, he's walking, head down, reading, towards the counter. His feet make no sound on the floor and, to the great surprise of anyone in the store, the man doesn't stop at the counter….

He goes /through/ the counter, like it isn't even there, then disappears like a soap bubble bursting.

Megan is turning around with her own tea in her hand when the oddly dressed man makes his way toward the counter. She begins to smile, just that easy greeting as you pass someone… and then he's gone. She stands there, with this look on her face that is part confusion and part dismay. She's seen too much in this lifetime really be surprised exactly. One hand goes to her hip, though, and she looks around the room. "All right. Who's the wiseass?"

At the man who suddenly appears out of nowhere she takes notice, Lucille blinks and an eyebrow raises at how he's dressed. At this point in 2018 this could be a number of things, a phaser, teleporter with a flair for the 70s or an illusionist or a telepath. God the list could go on and on. And then he does through the counter and pops like a bubble and the woman sits up straighter eyebrows raised. An illusionist. But where..The answer is revealed or so Lucille guesses as she spots Cassandra in front of her, sitting in the way she does. Her hand placed on the book, it looks like she's meditating and Lucille can relate to that completely.

After Megan makes her comment aloud Lucille looks over at the other redhead and juts her neck out towards the young lady. "Think she's trying to check if you're reflexes or still good Meg." There's a light grin thrown the direction of her mentor as she leans forward to grab at her tea and take a sip. Eyes on the agent causing mischief.

It wasn't intentional, really.

At the matter-of-fact exclamation from the redhead, Cassandra jumps a little, rubbing her eye with the back of her hand, pushing up to look around the room and then down at the book that her bare hand is resting on. Whoops. She slowly moves it off the book and on to the arm of the comfortable chair she's sitting in, shifting a little to peer at the printing date of the book in her lap. 1972. That explains it. A little.

“That…ah…would be me." She says to no-one in particular, sinking down into her chair just a little more, setting her book in the bag and taking up her cup of tea. "I relaxed just a little too much and broadcast an echo."

"My reflexes are just fine, thankyouverymuch, young lady." Shaking her head, the older redhead just snickers. "If I did drugs, I'd have wondered if I was having a flashback. Did you see his suit??" She walks with her tea over toward the table where Lucille is sitting, but she grins at Cassandra. "Pretty nifty way to make friends and influence people, I tell you," she teases. "I'm Megan. This is Lucille."

There's a quick tongue poked out at Megan and a laugh follows. Lu knows that Megan will lay her on her ass. So would Huruma, so would her dad. Well, he's down one hand Lucille likes to believe she could take him these days.

When Cassandra confesses and offers a explanation as to the display of power Lucille immediately feels sympathy for the younger woman. Not being in complete control of your ability was something that she could relate with and her expression shows that she's not angry at the woman. "Echo?" She seems confused at this and it shows.

Shifting in her seat, making sure her tea is not in any danger of spilling, Cassandra offers a bare hand to both for shaking purposes. "Cassandra Baumann." A simple introduction to the pair, amber eyes moving from one to the other. "Sorry to have surprised you with….him." She bends down to pick up the book, flipping inside the front cover. "John Barclay…must have been who owned the book. Look." She snaps it closed and sits back and, again John Barclay, in his swingin’ 70's suit, walks through the shop, through the counter, and vanishes a second time, like a film was rewound and replayed again. "that's him. On his way to something."

She sits back in her seat and looks from one to the other. "I'm a post-cognitive. The proper term is Projective Retrocognition. I play back memories from things or places."

Megan takes the proffered hand easily and merely shrugs. “No need to apologize. Believe me… I’ve spent a lot of years around people’s slightly uncontrolled talents. That one was really quite amusing. Here I thought disco was dead.” She grins slightly, listening to the explanation of the talent itself with a curious expression as she sips her tea. Setting the cup on the table in front of her, she observes, “That must be a little alarming at times. Some perfectly benign object lands you in the middle of a war zone or something?” She shakes her head. “I cannot imagine the things you must have seen when your power has popped up unexpectedly.” She pauses. “Or hell, even when you expect to use it, I bet you rarely expect what you see,” she comments thoughtfully.

The operative does not take the offered hand but not to be rude, she inclines her head. Nice to meet you. Lucille flicks a gaze to Megan as Cassandra explains herself. “If you're not a detective already, you should be.” She guesses that's a no-brainer though unless you hated government agencies or something.

“Abilities can be heard to keep locked down.” She says softly with another glance towards Megan. Lucille’s hand goes to her neck to massage the scar that's been there for six years.

If Megan’s eyes find the scar she would notice something curious. Something not easily explained.. the scar is healing. And perfectly. The raised edges have flattened out and soften back into her pink skin. It's not by much at the look of it, but it's changed. And someone that has known Lucille for as long Megan has, someone who has trained her. Would know that scar from being up close and personal from it.

“It works when I touch something. A handshake could theoretically set me off. I generally clamp it down when I'm not working.” Releasing Megan’s hand, Cassandra sits back, nodding to the non-scarred redhead. “You aren't kidding. It's generally not innocuous items, but sometimes it is. In high school, I was at a party and someone had the bright idea to put a helmet on my head after I'd been drinking.” Yes, underage drinking. Scandalous! “When I reached up to take it off, my ability triggered and boom, beach of Normandy on D-day. It…yeah. Wasn't too fun for anyone. Lost a lot of friends.” She frowns at the memory of that. “Anyway, yes. I generally can sense where something is going before broadcasting it, it in the times I relax, sometimes it just slips out. You can imagine how fun I can be at a party with the right things to play with.”

She turns to Lucille now, nodding to her. “Got it in one, Lucille. I work for SESA as an agent. They tap me mainly for investigations and stuff. I'm hopeful that I'll get assigned to the food thefts here in the safe zone. Give me a little time and I'll show you the theft in 3d. Faces of the people and everything.”

That sharpens the older redhead’s eyes on the post-cog. “The fact that they haven’t already, given your talents, seems to say they aren’t taking it as seriously as they should,” she comments. Her tone is calm, but Lucille knows her well enough to see the other side of Megan hiding in that tone. The one that gets Irked and rips people a new ass like it’s Christmas. “I see the red tape of bureaucracy still hasn’t improved on the law enforcement side of things either.”

Shaking her head slightly, Megan takes another sip of her tea and then pauses, making no bones about the fact that she’s suddenly got a laser focus on Lucille’s neck like the girl is sporting a vampire bite. It only lasts a moment, though, before she seems to think better of commenting aloud and sits back in her chair with a somewhat maternal We’ll talk about this when we aren’t in mixed company kind of look.

The other red headed woman nods as she listens to Cassandra so openly discuss what she can do. She guesses not everyone has reason to not talk about their ability. Those days are over and Lucille is grateful for that but still..

And then Cassandra says SESA and her whole demeanor inside changes. She's quite good at masking her facial expressions and she thanks the modeling coach Tara who grilled her for hours when she was a teen. Dad hated it but see it has helped.

Eyes flick to the corners of the room, is this a set up? Some sort of good cop showing up before the squad busts through and takes her away for crimes that the government blames Wolfhound as a whole for. The soldier relaxes after a moment of clear thinking, why would they target Lucille? Stop being paranoid Ryans.

There's a soft smile that crosses her lips, masking the grimace she does inside. Toe the line indeed. “I must be a psychic.” She says with no bit of humor. “Please help them solve that mystery, Agent Baumann, my whole family lives here.” Well not all and her thoughts go back to Kincaid her lost nephew. Her statement does indicate that she doesn't in fact live in the SZC.

“You might know my brother. Agent Russo, Bradley Russo.” She misunderstands Megan’s private look but she nods her head anyway. She hasn't noticed yet. Maybe.

“To be fair, I’ve only been in town for two days.” Cassandra offers as an explanation. “Transfer paperwork got held up in Albany for some reason, and now the people upstairs can't let me do my job until I'm official, with the backing of the department and everything. Like I don't have that already.” She blows out a breath and shrugs, looking to Lucille and Megan for a second or two, studying them.

“I'm sorry if I make you nervous, Lucille.” Deliberately using the woman’s first name. Cassandra noticed the almost immediate change in demeanor. “I'm only here to do my job. I mean….they only stick me where things need to be discovered.” No cameras, no gestapo goon squad breaking down the door. Just a 20 year old with a world war 2 book on her lap, a bag of books by her feet, and an ability to bring up the past. “I'm just getting books. And I haven't met agent Russo yet. Just the people dealing with my paperwork..” She takes a sip of her tea, looking at the pair of faces communicating volumes without saying a word.

She had no idea SESA was looked down upon!

Megan chuckles softly. “You’d think after all this time, we wouldn’t instinctively cringe when law enforcement comes around,” she comments to both of the younger women. “Cassandra, please forgive both of us for being a hair on the paranoid side. We spent a lot of years fighting for the rights and laws that you now uphold, but some of us are still…” She pauses a moment and considers. “Waiting for the pendulum to complete its pass, I suppose. If Anti-evo sentiment was so powerful that it lead to a civil war, what then happens when the Pro-evos are in charge? Will we see an uptick in the violence again?”

She shrugs slightly and sips from her tea. “You can take the women out of the Ferry, but you can’t take the Ferry out of the women.”

“Ah my apologies to you Agent Baumann,” She doesn't use the woman’s first name. The words of the Major ringing in her head. While she knows Cassandra isn't assigned to Wolfhound (does she really?) being professional is still her focus. Lucille flicks a strand of hair out of her eyes and smiles faintly, “Megan is right. Even my father was a former.. government agent,” of sorts.. “And it freaked me out for awhile.” She imagines that Cassandra will understand. The authority is sometimes looked at warily.

She debates telling her of her own occupation. It's not as if it's a secret or she's doing anything illegal. Luce debates for a few more moments as she stares into her mug of tea before swallowing more down.

“Lucille Ryans, Wolfhound Operative.” She would like to be honest with the SESA agent. She was spooked for a few, the gravity of their situation back at the Bunker clear in her mind.

As to what Megan says it makes Lucille tilt her head before she nods. “Keeping a balance can be hard.” So hard. At the comment about the Ferry Lucille smiles. It took her a long time to be okay being affiliated.

“We can only be the change we want to see in the world. Humanity is capable of such awesome beauty, but can come up with the most terrible nightmares. Finding any balance is something that we’ll never be able to truly achieve, but it’s more just to have balance than any extreme.” Cassandra takes a sip of her tea. “Impossible is no excuse for not trying to make things better, though.”

At Lucille’s use of her official title, the little brunette sighs and leans her head back dramatically. “Please, please. Out of uniform it’s just Cassandra. Or Cassie. If you’re going to use the full title, it’s Investigator Baumann. Agents are the ones who do the dirty work. I point the agents where to go.” She takes another sip of her tea, thoughtful. “Look.” She shifts in her seat to face Lucille directly. “When I’m like this I’m on my own time. That means I’m not having to investigate the horrible things people do to each other and broadcast them to everyone in the room.” Her eyes open slightly, peering at the pair before she straightens, turning her attention back to the gloved woman. “Really, Lucille, I’m just an investigator. You guys in Wolfhound do good work. Hell, I’ve actually worked with Wolfhound several times before in an official capacity. You’ve probably got my contact information in some database. “Call Cassandra in case of extreme fuckery.”” Cassandra smiles softly. She doesn’t drop any case names or anything, but could if it would get Lucille to drop her guard just a little bit.

“You were both members of the Ferry? I read Jaiden Mortlock’s book about the history of the civil war a few months back. It was /okay/….Lots of self-mentions about how much he did for the war effort. “ She makes the jerk-off motion. “The guy sounded like an asshole, really, but he did a good job researching things. There were all sorts of cited mentions of the work the Ferry did, and even a couple of chapters about safe houses and stuff.” Cassandra actually sounds a bit impressed by that, shifting in her seat a little bit, drawing her legs up beneath her. “Were you ever active in Louisiana? A military group kept me and a few other evolved kids safe at a military school during the duration of the war. Was that y’all?”

Megan sips her tea, letting the agent do what she can to allay Lucille’s defensive posture. She has no idea whether that will work or not — Lu can be a little prickly at times, and Wolfhouse… well, Hana runs Wolfhound. So it’s not as if her methods, at least really early on, weren’t a little on the brutal side. Not that Megan finds this problematic at all.

“The Ferry was never a military organization, and I would not think that one at a military school would be us, no… but it’s possible that someone from our network went off and had their own thing happening,” she says calmly. “It’s just as likely, however, that the servicemen and -women who ran your school felt the same thing that we vets in the Ferry did… that all enemies, foreign and domestic included taking up arms in protection of the People even when our own Government was the source of Massive Amounts of Inexcusable Fuckery.”

Megan shrugs. “Although we were certainly the ones who gained notoriety for our actions, we were never the only people protecting our friends, loved ones, and anyone else we could. We were merely the ones who got caught on camera trying to evacuate children while our own soldiers fired on them with automatic weapons on American soil.” Even all these years later, there is a distinct rage undercurrent along with sorrow to the redhead’s tone when she speaks of it.

She offers the young agent a faint smile. “You weren’t part of all that. And the organization that replaced the DoEA is certainly doing its best to rectify the mistakes of the past. They’re off to a decent start.” It’s a peace offering.

Blue eyes soften a fraction, she's made Cassandra feel attacked. There's a flick of a tendril of hair and she's sipping more of her tea. “I'll make sure you're the one I call then. My feet can wander into fuckery from time to time. Lucille stares across at the investigator. A slow smile creeps onto her lips, “I would work that title if I were you, investigator,” she teases lightly and sips more of her tea. There's a look given to Megan, she's good now.

Working her shoulders forward and back, “Thank you,” the compliment on the work Wolfhound does and it being good is not forgotten. Her guard is up but she displays that enticing smile of hers. Men and women alike have melted under that smile, those eyes.

“My father was really the official member. My sister and I were roped in through him. It was hard to stay distant from that when his role was so.. prominent?” That might be the right way to say it. Lucille’s eyes go to her tea as she sips.

The mention of her sister’s ex makes her choke. She grins and waves her hand, “Ahh he's alright. He's a bit of a goodie goodie but the world needs more of his spirit in them.” Lu does believe.

“I don’t think they’d let me move up in the ranks, to be honest. My skills of investigation are pretty….unique?” There’s a lilt at the end of that which makes what she’s saying a statement and a question at the same time. It’s something she picked up from one of the girls she had been kept with during the war and it just never went away. “70’s fashion ken, when he walked through?” Her hand rests on the book and there he goes again, through the counter. “Give me enough time and I can find specific memories based off of objects or locations and play them back in full color, let you walk around and look at stuff, freeze it, rewind it…all that stuff. That takes a little more time, though….” She shrugs. “I like comparing it to going through the tunnel at Willy Wonka’s factory. Hell of a lot of fun at parties, too.”

She turns to look at Megan. “Well, it was a military school that we ended up in, with lots of ex military types, in the middle of a bayou. Pretty much in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t know if you all were involved down there, or if we just got lucky.” She’s thinking the latter now, rather than the former. Still, she nods. “All that crap from way back when… Wolfhound finds ‘em, and us in the agency keep it from happening again as best we can. “

Cassandra feels comfortable around Lucille and Megan, grinning a little. She fishes around in her messenger bag for a moment - glimpses of her badge, wallet, gun (on safety), and several thick file folders labeled (SAFE ZONE FOOD THEFT) and (RED CROSS FOOD THEFT) are glimpsed before she finds a pair of business cards with her official title, email, and office number. She flips it over and plucks a pen from her bag, scribbling her number on the back of them as well. “For emergency use only, unless you want to go out and have a good time. In that case, give me a call and we’ll hang out. I enjoy bookstores, going out to bars, and just talking about things.”

Quirking a brow, Megan reaches out and takes the cards, handing one to Lucille. Her other hand continues to cradle her teacup, and she sips from it as if she’s enjoying it and the conversation, generally. “Sitting someplace like this, you can almost forget for a few minutes…” what the rest of the city of New York looks like. It’s just a pleasant place to be, even though it’s mostly used books or books from a few years ago salvaged from other bookstores. She does snicker at Lucille’s comment about her father’s role being what drew them in. “If your father had his way, neither of you would have come within ten miles of all that shit, Lu. Don’t kid yourself,” she retorts mildly.

TAnd actually, that makes her think of something! “And by the way — how the hell did nobody think to tell me Scott fucking Harkness was up there with all of you?! Jesus Christ, the man damn near gave me a heart attack when he walked into Elmhurst — I thought I was seeing a ghost.”

“I mean you're completely right there. I kinda just jumped in until he didn't have a choice but to include me,” she snickers at the early days. The decision she made to go to Alaska was followed by a tense disagreement with her father. She was so angry at the time, so consumed with wanting to do something. Those feelings had subsided although a fair bit.

“Your ability sounds invaluable, I look forward to seeing your face in the newspapers as you crack the hard cases.” There’s another grin and then she nods.

Then she's taking the card and gaping at Megan, “I swear I thought you knew! I swear!” She chokes back a chuckle, there's no way she couldn't have.. er… she guesses… “Shit, sorry Meg.”

“Give it a few years and write a book.” Cassandra suggests to Lucille. “Things with good primary sources always are good to read, and you going along with Wolfhound from the very beginning means you’ve got a lot of insight that most people from the outside would definitely miss. Even if you have some entanglements, you can use a pseudonym so you can tell your story without putting yourself out there too much.”
There’s a pause at the mention of her invaluable ability. “It is pretty useful, yeah…but some of the things I’ve seen…hard to forget.”

“Still.” She perks up. “If you see anything solved ‘with Evolved assistance from SESA,’ that’s probably me if it’s something that was confusing.” Cassandra leans back in her chair, taking up her small cup of tea, swirling it around before draining it with a sigh and a happy smile, putting it back down on its saucer with a clink, adjusting the cup with a fingertip to be sitting just so. She’s not in this conversation, really, about Scott fucking Harkness and Alaska, so she just simply sits and listens. Cassandra is a good listener.

Megan just shakes her head slightly. She definitely didn’t have a clue. But she turns back to the other conversation as Cassandra speaks. “I can’t even imagine what kind of things you see — is it something that’s entirely touch-activated?” she asks curiously. “I would think that takes a great deal of focus to keep from just randomly getting flashes of all kinds of crazy shit. Especially considering most of what you’ll find here in the Zone is pre-owned.” She sips from her tea. “What’s the craziest thing you ever saw on one of those kinds of random blips? I won’t ask about work, cuz well…” The redhead smiles. “I figure you probably can’t say.”

There’s a brief smile at Cassandra’s words but she doesn’t debate with the woman, she has no intention on ever writing a book. Maybe she’ll push Delia into that one day or dad, a project she knows would never occupy his time for long. At the young SESA agent’s words Luce looks sympathetic, nodding her head. “Some of our gifts.. Can be hard to manage. The people you help appreciate your struggle.” It’s not something she usually professes but she is heavily Pro-Evolved, it’s not to say that she doesn’t love and care for Megan.. Or her father.. Or Avi. Just that she really felt a connection with her fellow Evolved. Especially with one who might have a hard time with her ability.

There’s a wide grin on her face at Megan’s question. It’s nice to have these conversations, about abilities and work but not work or government conspiracies that Lucille was feeling like she was being roped into by way of Wolfhound.

Lifting her right hand, with a small silvery ring on her middle finger, she turns it over, looking at her palm for a second before nodding to Megan. “That depends on how deep I end up going, really. The basic ability works off of touch - the book, for instance. If I'm not paying attention, or if I relax too much….whoops, out comes an echo. Over time, I’ve gotten pretty good at keeping it in. I have to be with some of the stuff I handle. I can get tastes, I guess you can call them, to get an idea of what might come out of something, so thanks to experience, I can avoid displaying accidental horror. Thankfully my ability doesn't trigger when I'm falling asleep, otherwise it would be interesting to have someone stay over. If I need to go deeper and get something more than surface echoes?” She ducks down to her messenger bag and whips out a long silk scarf, looping it behind her neck. “That's where the blindfold comes in.”

“The strangest thing not relating to work….”. She actually has to think about that for a second. “Well….I keep a few interesting things in my bag for entertainment purposes. A pair of opera glasses from before the Great Depression is a fun one - it dumps me and anyone around me into a good imitation of great gatsby for about six minutes if I let it play out. Another fun one was the family picture from an amusement park and a necklace from the last St. Patrick’s Day parade here in New York before it all went up in smoke. Anyone want to ride a roller coaster or see a parade?” She brushes her hair back with a grin. “Weird things…opium pipe from the 1800’s projected an opium den, and a…ahem…mask”. She does air quotes. “Gave a lovely scene of people dressed as animals doing some fairly lewd things to each other, oh, or the one that got me ostracized in high school.” She grins, the trauma of being suddenly and unexpectedly outed as evolved in high school fading over the years. “Let me set the scene - it was my first real boy girl high school party. I was seventeen. Lots of fun was had, and being that we were in Louisiana, there was lots of drinking. Someone got the idea to pass around hats and the one I got was an infantry helmet from the invasion of Normandy.” She pauses for emphasis. “So there we were, listening to music, having fun, drunk, and then suddenly….we’re all in the middle of storming the beach, gunfire was /everywhere/, and it didn’t stop until I managed to get the helmet off.”

Megan laughs during the recitations, thoroughly amused. Although she does flinch at the Normandy invasion one. “Oh God, I can't even…
That definitely doesn't sound like fun, though some of the others seem well worth party stories or tricks.”

She cradles her tea and looks down at it a long moment. “It's really good to hear people able to share those stories without the kind of fear there used to be.”

There's a quirk of the side of her lips and Lucille’s face softens at the recounts of the ability. She still doesn't offer any tales of her ability. Maybe she likes the mystery, maybe she's sure that Cassandra will come across her file one day. Maybe she's just tired. The possibilities are endless, so to speak. She does offer, “I had a rough time getting my ability under control. People like Meg here helped me out,” And Colette and Ygraine.

“When I manifested the Flashforward riots hadn't even happened yet. I was on the run in Paris, tracked down at a fashion show,” of all places really. It's the most Lucille has talked around a stranger in a while.

“That absence of fear is what we were fighting for.” What she was happy to see here now, in the Safe Zone.

“This….this is actually the first time I've been able to talk to someone about what I can do and not feel…out of place.” Cassandra actually blushes cutely, glancing at the pair of ex ferry members, almost with wonder. “During the war, I was hidden with some other evolved kids, like I said, so that was different. We talked all the time about our abilities, but this….”. She pats the chair she's sitting in to indicate ‘here.’ “In the real outside world, just saying it. In a store. It's a freedom I haven't really ever had and it's why I'm in SESA. It's why I'm here. To make these moments possible for more people. Not just evolved people, but for everyone.”

Megan smiles at both of the young women and comments quietly, “This is what we fought for. No more hiding and hoping no one finds you, no more fearing that you'll disappear into a dark hole and never see your loved ones again. It's not perfect.” She pauses and shrugs a little. “Nothing ever is. And hopefully we've learned enough from that war that we’ll find the balance and not go too far the other way.”

While Lucille relates to Cassandra, she might have a more jaded outlook on things. She went through a war, Lucille isn't sure how Megan or herself stays so… light after that. But she wishes in the back of her mind that Cassandra is spared that rough fight. She's hoping her and Megan’s actions would have made that so kids like Cassandra would never have to go through a war and could feel that freedom that she does now. It makes the woman smile softly and she nods.

The mention of no more dark holes while Avi had just been in technically makes Lucille press her lips into a tight line. “Especially no more black holes.”

“I'm gonna… run by my dad’s.” She looks over at Megan and then Cassandra, “You mind walking me to my bike?” Luce grins at Megan as she finishes the last of her tea.

Cassandra’s tea is finished, and with her purchases all bagged up, she really doesn’t have anywhere else to be. The ‘walk me to my bike’ might have been directed at Megan, but Cassandra’s game to come with as well. “If I’m invited…I don’t mind either.” she says with a smile.

Megan swallows the last of her tea and nods. “Sure,” she agrees easily, both to Lucille’s request for escort and to Cassandra inviting herself along. Lu doesn’t seem like she’s angling for a private moment to speak. Blue eyes on the younger woman are affectionate, and as she moves to stand, she also gives Lucille a one-armed hug — she has great practice at this point in avoiding the skin-to-skin contact that causes Lu problems. Kissing the side of the younger woman’s red head, Megan tells her with a smile, “You tell Benjamin if he doesn’t let me know how things are going soon — himself! — I’m gonna find some reason to show up and jab him.” It’s an old in-joke, clearly. “Give Pippa snuggles for me if you see her, will you? It’s been… a little while,” she admits to Lucille. Ben’s rather been keeping to himself since settling in the Zone.

After escorting Lucille to her bike, Megan enjoys the simply companionship of Cassandra until they reach a point to split off from one another. “It was really nice to meet you, Cassandra.”

“It was really nice to meet you too, Megan.” Cassandra says with a smile before heading off into the safe zone.

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