Unseelie Fae


delia_icon.gif jaiden_icon.gif

Scene Title Unseelie Fae
Synopsis There are misconceptions: The subject of registration, what the faerie Ferry are about, and why there's fighting.
Date March 9, 2011

Jaiden's Garage

The day after Fat Tuesday is Ash Wednesday. The night before the lent season hits is a time for those of the catholic faith - or those who just like to have fun - to party and indulging in things that, for the next 30 days, will be abstained from. Jaiden is not catholic, but certainly does enjoy a good party. A few hours were spent the previous evening at the Mardi Gras party at the Corinthian, with Jaiden slipping home a bit after curfew to sleep off the three whiskey sours he consumed over an hour and a half. Pleasantly buzzed, Jaiden went to sleep, waking in the morning with the beginnings of a headache.

This morning is cool and overcast - a bit below freezing with a wind. Jaiden's garage is open - at least that's what the sign says - but all the doors are closed. The sound of an air compressor can be heard now and again, followed by a jet-engine like sound of a blast heater keeping the workshop warm while the owner of the business hammers on a power steering rack.

While she isn't as devout as she should be, Delia is a Catholic and Ash Wednesday is rather important. After spending nearly two hours in confessional and another couple atoning for her sins, the redhead makes her way to the garage in a hope of making some sort of amends. She's not as nervous this time, being absolved under the eyes of God does wonders for the young woman.

Still, there's so much that she left unfinished and so much left that she has to do. Which is why she's here. Knocking on the side of the garage, she waits for a moment before proceding a step or two into view. "Jaiden? Can I come in?"

The Australian really doesn't have much faith as far as organizations go. Sure, he believes in a higher power, and that is God in his eyes, but the trappings of organized religions don't sit right with him. Still, at the knock he looks over from his spot beneath the car, seeing two very nice boots at the door. "Sure, come on in." A push of his arms sends him scooting out from under the car to stand, greasy as usual. He does look a little surprised at Delia darkening his doorstep, though, moving over to the big sink to wash the grease off of his hands. "You're an unexpected surprise." No malice in that, just an acceptance that she's moved on. "How've you been, Delia?"

Lifting her head to look up at him with a weak sort of smile, there's the telltale smudge of soot on her forehead. "Uhm… You want the honest answer or something a little nicer on the ears?" She looks tired, but as fresh as ever with no makeup save a touch of tinted gloss to stain her lips. "I went back to the island… to help with the flu victims." The downcast expression on her face and the tone in her voice is likely enough to point in the direction of how things are going there.

"Gillian's really sick… so are a lot of the Lighthouse kids, some of them died already." She pauses for a moment, looking down at the floor near her painted boots and studies the patches of grease on the concrete before letting loose a long sigh. "Abby caught it, she was vaccinated and she still caught it."

Given the choice, Jaiden would want an honest answer, and it seems that he's been given one - or at least the start of a trail to what she wants coming here. Whatever it is, it must have been important for her to have come here. "I see…" Jaiden leans against one of the work counters, it's surface covered with tools and various parts. "Well…diseases adapt. That's why there's a new flu vaccine every year. It's not surprising that it H5N10 did, too." He lets out a soft sigh, shaking his head. Bloody hell.

"I'm sorry to hear that…I thought you'd be in the thick of things, taking care of them." He pauses for a moment. "I've heard it's bad up there, too. Not a lot of supplies. You need to tap me for some?"

There's a quick shake of her head, the loose red hair making it a little more pronounced than it should be. "No, there's someone that I'm supposed to be meeting for them. I— I actually came for a different reason." Her expression is already softened, much more earnest than the one presented during their last meeting. The last time she saw him, she was distant and detached, still uncertain of what or even who she was supposed to be.

"Mostly to make sure you're not sick, did you get a vaccine?" The reason and question are enough to show that he's been on her mind, to say the very least. "Even… even though what I did… I don't want to see you suffer like they are. If you haven't already, I can get one for you." Even administer, though she's fairly certain he's had enough experience with vaccinations between his military career and journalistic pursuits to do the job himself.

Sitting on his spot on the bench, Jaiden looks fine. Tired from Fat Tuesday, but otherwise okay. "I haven't gotten sick, Delia - the most exposure I've had to anyone who's been in contact with anyone who has the virus is you, right now, right in front of me. Downstairs, I've got the paperwork for registration, so I can go see a doctor and can get a vaccination….it's not something I want to do, but with things the way they are now…" Jaiden trails off, looking down and away for a moment before returning that warm olive gaze to hers. "If you have one, sure, I'll take it, but if someone else needs it more, give it to them. I should be able to get one once I've registered."

She takes a step back at the revelation. "Y-you're.. you're registering?" Delia gives a paranoid glance around the shop and tucks her hands into the shearling coat she's wearing. Of course she's nervous, she's wanted. "I mean… that's good, for you… you'll be able to get the Australian consulate to keep track of you, to make sure you don't disappear." She doesn't have that option.

Once upon a time, she wanted to do the same thing. Scared as she was, the redhead had a little bit of faith left. Now. Well now it's all fully stocked into the people she works with rather than the ones who are supposed to take care of them. "Brad is registered, sometimes I think he's lucky. Other times…" A shrug.

"You know it's not by choice, Delia. I've put it off as long as I could - if I want to open a bank account, I need to register. If I want to leave the country, I need to register. I'll hopefully be able to play off my citizenship application as thinking I had registered and avoid anything more than a fine…." Jaiden slips off the table, grabbing a red rag and rubbing his hands, trying to scrub away non-existent grease stains. It's obvious he doesn't relish the idea of doing this, but he is because it's the best thing. "Easier to hide out in the open, if that makes sense."

"Don't worry - no cameras or listening devices here - if there were, I'd know it. Us breaking up may have stung, but I'm not that vindictive." He chuckles at his gallows' humor, glancing at her with a smile. "How's Brad doing, by the way? I haven't heard anything about him in a while."

"I haven't seen him for a long time, he doesn't— approve— of my choices." A weak smile is given the Australian before she turns to find something to lean against. The walk from where she's staying has visibly tired her and she's still too thin. "He wants me to go straight, to register… I was going to after the 8th, after the riots, but…" Another shrug, one shoulder. "If Mister Lazzaro brought me to the Ferry and stayed with them instead of going back… I can't— He's the one that arrested me. If he doesn't have enough faith in the system to bring me in and lets me be a fugitive, why should I?"

Letting loose a long sigh, she looks down at the floor again and the heavy lean against the wall turns to a shrink against it. "Jaiden.. I— uhm.. I should have been better. I'm sorry. It was never you, I hope you know that."

Sadly, Jaiden is kind of in the same boat as Brad - not approving of Delia's choices, considering one of then was kicking him to the curb, but he is not the one to live another person's life for them - he can't be. They have to make their own choices, their own decisions, and live with them, come hell or high water. "So you're a fugitive from justice because of the dreamwalking, huh?" A soft sigh. "I thought you were already registered - didn't they catch you trying to get a false registration past? I thought it was mandatory by that point."

He is quiet for a while, watching her, looking at her leaning against the wall. "You were fine, Delia. You were just fine for me." Those words are said with arms crossed over his chest, his eyes closing after a moment. "And I know it wasn't me. You changed. That time in the dream….it changed you. Everyone changes - sometimes for the better, sometimes not….it's you that'll decide which path you'll take." His eyes open. "And if your path leads you back to a garage in Red Hook, so be it." He smiles. "And if not, that's fine too."

"I never finished registering," she responds with a long sigh. "They caught me but I never kept up with my probation or went to the tests. They don't know what I can do, any more than anyone else, really." There's a select few that do know, one of them is already dead.

"I can't register as long as Dad's still out there, they might try to use me to get him. They accused him of treason against the government, as long as he's on the run, I have to be too." And Lucille, but they barely know anything about her sister aside from a few things gleaned during a chase. "If I got caught, I'd get a fine… more probation, stricter rules… Nothing I couldn't handle but I won't do that to dad."

"We can see about getting you a false identification - have you register as Loretta Scott or something - something totally out of the way. If your registration never went through, it's probably languishing in a filing cabinet somewhere." Jaiden's trying to be helpful, but knows what will come of this suggestion.

"How's Ryans, anyway? Pollepel, being the protector of the ferry?"

"You haven't been in touch…" Delia's low voice carries more than a little dismay at the fact. "Dad got stabbed, pretty bad. He caught an infection in the wound and— He's in the non-flu infirmary." Reaching into her pocket, Delia procures a couple of cards to show the giant, registration and identification. "They're not good enough to pass through a check point like to Roosevelt or Staten Island but if I'm asked for my ID on the street they're enough."

Robin Bristow, the name chosen for her, the name that led to her picking a new identity in dreams. Robin is still twenty instead of turning twenty-one yesterday. Yet it's Delia's smiling face staring blankly up from the pieces of plastic. One would almost expect her fingers to be held up in a V for peace beside her face.

Jaiden looks the ID's over, chuckling softly at Robin Bristow and her seemingly painted-on smile. It looks almost like she took these in a photo booth in an old-style arcade, but for fakes they're pretty convincing. Anyone on the street would have a hard time finding out it was fake unless they tried checking it against the database. "I tried to get in touch. The dome kind of sprung up to prevent that. I know my trips to the island were missed, but there wasn't anything I could do at the time, and the Ferry…" Jaiden sighs softly. "They're getting so militant now. I don't know if I fit in anymore. Down there, the safehouse I built? Still completely untouched, even after all of this time. Makes a fellow feel wanted, you know?"

"The safehouse is a good place to stop off but they're looking for long term housing. I don't know if the basement would be good for that, there's families, couples, kids. It's hard enough getting a bit of privacy at the castle. Even the places I found for the council, they're— one of them is perfect for the new Lighthouse, but the others are much much bigger." With a bit of work, the factory would (in her humble opinion) probably be the best choice, given its size. "Something like Gun Hill again, that would be perfect, you know? Or even a big place like The Garden."

Lifting up one shoulder, sheshakes her head a little and grimaces. "I don't know about the militant bit… We have to protect ourselves, but I don't think we're Messiah or anything. Do you?"

"I don't know…" Jaiden says softly, his eyes closing again, taking up a wrench and hefting it, letting it bounce in his palm before putting it in it's place. "I've been out of the loop for so long, I don't know what to think. Pollepel is no-go because of the flu, and as far as I know, you and Ygraine are the only Ferry folk who have even tried to get in contact with me since the whole thing came down." Jaiden slips off of the counter and moves a bit closer to Delia, taking a seat on a discarded car seat converted into a chair. "I don't know if I told you….hell, told anyone this. The whole reason I kind of stayed away from the ferry initially was because I didn't want to fight - I wanted to help, I wanted to fight the system from within, not have conflicts. Not clash with the government. When it was explained what the ferry was, to me, it seemed exactly like what I'd been doing, but by myself. But lately? It seems the Ferry's adapting tactics and methods used by Phoenix before. Sure, it gets us in the news and shows people what's going on, but combat? That just makes us another target - easy to discount as militants or crackpots with our own Evolved agenda, ready to crush the common American under our boot."

Jaiden rocks back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other, looking over Delia again. "I can get a boatload of stuff up there in a few days - antibiotics from my stash, bandages, and the like. Food and blankets too, because I'm sure that's in short supply. I'm concerned, but I'm not quitting just yet." He pauses for a moment, looking her over. "When was the last time you slept, Delia? you look exhausted."

"The flu couldn't have gotten onto the Island and spread as quickly as it did without a little help from the outside, Jaiden." That's all Delia will say about the matter as her expression goes from a softened neutral to one of complete sobriety. Pursing her lips, she shakes her head at the comparison and shifts her glance toward the door. "There's a difference. A big one. The Ferrymen don't attack anyone to make a point or send a message, anything militant that's done is to keep the people in or wards safe. They don't just go out and attack places for shits and giggles."

She swore, she never swears. It goes to show how invested she is in the group. How protective. "Brad had questions in the beginning, until he met Eileen. After he met her he seemed satisfied that the Ferry aren't a bunch of terrorists." Who knows what he thinks of them now, now that Delia went back in the face of possible death instead of doing what's safe. "Food would be good, soap and disinfectant is really important. Thanks…" When she slept? She doesn't answer that one. It wasn't a night for resting.

All these words are taken in with Jaiden having a fairly neutral look as she talks. It seems that Delia has thrown her lot in utterly with the Ferrymen - it's all she has left, so she'll hold it as tightly as she can. "Okay, then." He doesn't answer any of her points with counterpoints, seeming to let the argument die where it ended with her, with no clear winner or loser. Arguments like this are never fun for either person involved and usually can end up hurting one or the other more than they've been hurt before. "When will you be going back up to the island? I can get a boat and haul you and a load up with it."

"I don't know…" The quiet answer is given with a purse of her lips and a screw of her face as though she's about to cry. "Something happened last night. I almost got hit by a car, the man that pulled me out of the way— " One of her hands comes up to rub the side of her head and tangle into her hair, stretching the long coils down before they spring back into place. "I have no idea who he is but he told me that if I went back, I was going to die."

She doesn't discount the possibility that the strange man was some sort of clairevoyant. "I've never seen him before, ever and he knew about the island. He said if I went back, I was going to die. I need to talk to Eileen before I make a decision."

Again with the time travel and precognitions….Jaiden groans and rocks back a little. What he wouldn't give to have Rhys's telephone number handy - he could fix this without any problems, by looking ahead. But he doesn't, and that's no good for anyone. "Okay…so a guy told you that if you go back to the island, you'll die. Anything else, besides that? The treasure's buried under a big W?" He's frustrated at that - that's the tone in his voice. "Do you need me to get you in contact with Eileen and get that stuff up there for you? This load is more than likely needed, and until you figure out what's going on, I don't think you'll be going back for fear of….prophecy."

"I think Eileen is here somewhere, I can get a hold of her with my— " With her ability is the unfinished statement that's cut off no use rubbing salt into the wounds that tore them apart. Dunking her hand back into her pocket, Delia looks up at him and lets loose a long sigh through her nose. "He didn't, really. He asked me if I would believe him if he told me something serious. I think he believed what he was telling me, he seemed to get mad when I— " another pause "— when I lied and said what island?"

A small huff of breath escapes in a sardonic laugh and she looks away. When she started changing like this, she couldn't exactly say. Lying used to kill her, now it's becoming easier and easier with more and more secrets she has to keep. "He got mad and disappeared."

"He sounds like a movie villain." Jaiden observes with a chuckle. "And now we get to try and see what we can see, future-wise, by estimation. According to you, the flu spread in Pollepel quickly - quicker than it should have, which means it could have been deliberately spread. A lot of sick people can't fight back when an….assault….fuck." Jaiden frowns. "I need to call someone - find out if they know anything that may be targeting up there. This time stuff, when it happens, is generally….timed. When I went back to save Lizzie, Hiro dropped me the week before…."

"It was an attack, Jaiden, the patrol that was hung— It all started there. I don't know all of the details, but it was after that the quarantine was called and people started getting sick." Delia doesn't even look up anymore, though the audible swallow sounds painful, like the young woman is about to burst into tears that have been held back for way too long.

"Do you really think the soldiers are going to attack now that people are so sick?" She sounds a little frightened at the thought, subconsciously turning her head to look North, toward the island that she can't see. "There's little kids there, really really sick little kids."

"I know…" Jaiden says softly. "I'll do my best to find something out."

The redhead pushes herself off the wall she was leaning against and walks up to wrap her arms around him in a friendly hug. "Take care of yourself, Jaiden. If you can get food and soap there, please do it, they need it. I'm going to find Eileen." It's brief and right after, she turns and walks out of the garage.

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