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| Scene Title | ƃuoS lɐᴉɔǝdS uʍO ɹno⅄ ƃuᴉS |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | |
| Date |
The Reach
Lappland, Sweden
June 21st
4:37pm
Morning light spills through cream-colored curtains to paint in bright shades across a hardwood floor. A graceful and willowy woman in a loose gray sweater and a long, black skirt shuffles across the floor to the large windows, basking in the narrows rays of warm, summer sun. She cradles her cup of steaming hot tea in both hands, breathing in the floral aroma with her eyes closed. Then, with a sudden jolt and a gasp, she drops the teacup.
ƃuolɐ sƃuᴉs ǝslǝ ʎpoqou ɟᴉ uǝʌƎ
A sudden scream erupts from Joy as she brings both her hands to the sides of her head, recoiling from some unseen horror. The teacup shatters at her feet, scattering in every direction. The sound of her cry elicits a noise of alarm from the adjacent kitchen, followed by hurried footsteps.
ɔᴉsnɯ ɟo puᴉʞ uʍo ɹnoʎ ǝʞɐW
"Joy?" Ruby Harper calls out, hustling from the kitchen with a dish towel still in hand. "Joy? Joy what's wrong?" She asks breathlessly, hurrying to Joy's side. But the other woman can't hear her. Joy gasps in large, gulping breaths like she's struggling not to drown, tears streaming down her cheeks.
ƃuos ɟo puᴉʞ uʍo ɹnoʎ ƃuᴉS
When Roby touches Joy's shoulder the panicked woman leaps back in reaction, treading through the broken ceramic, leaving blotchy red footprints in her wake. Ruby herself recoils from such a strong reaction and yells, "Simon!"
ɔᴉsnɯ ɟo puᴉʞ uʍo ɹnoʎ ǝʞɐɯ ɐʇʇoƃ no⅄
There's a whirring sound as Simon Broome wheels his chair in from the study, and by now Joy is hyperventillating and sobbing, cupping her hands to her face. "Joy?" He tentatively asks, and when she doesn't respond he fires a concerned glance to Ruby, who immediately hurries out of the room, towel slung over her shoulder.
ƃuolɐ sƃuᴉs ǝslǝ ʎpoqou ɟᴉ uǝʌƎ
"Joy I need you to talk to me." Broome says in a calm voice, slowly wheeling his chair closer. "I need to know what's happening and how serious it is." All Joy can do is look up at Broome, wide, dark eyes focused in abject horror, tears streaming down her face.
ɔᴉsnɯ ɟo puᴉʞ uʍo ɹnoʎ ǝʞɐW
"Something is wrong." Joy hisses before vanishing in place as if she never existed. Broome sucks in a sharp breath, staring wide-eyed at the spot where she was. Ruby returns to the room a second too late to see what happened, a syringe in her hand.
ƃuos lɐᴉɔǝds uʍo ɹnoʎ ƃuᴉS
Meanwhile
4,600 Miles Away
Rianna Cardinal sits on the steps of a an abandoned bar. The door and windows are covered in plywood, though the shingle for the business—sun-bleached and faded—still hangs above the front stoop. Knees tucked up to her chest and arms around her legs, Ria looks at the empty street in front if her and the boarded up windows of a convenience store across the street. She presses her face into the back of her legs, brows scrunching together, eyes wrenched shut.
ɔᴉsnɯ ɟo puᴉʞ uʍo ɹnoʎ ǝʞɐɯ ɐʇʇoƃ no⅄
She doesn't notice the dark-haired woman appear out of nowhere in the middle of the street. Joy takes a moment to look around, unwinding her hands from her hair, then turns her attention to Rianna. She tilts her head to the side, looks up and down the street, then slowly approaches the way one might with a skittish stray.
puɐʇsɹǝpun llᴉʍ I 'ƃuᴉoƃ ǝq ʇsnɯ noʎ ɟᴉ pu∀
"Are you alright?" Joy asks, hesitantly approaching. Ria snaps her head up, reddened eyes wide and tears on her cheeks.
puɐɥ ʎɯ ǝʞɐʇ ʇouuɐɔ noʎ ɟᴉ oS
"What?" Ria gasps, arms and legs unfolding as she stares in disbelief at Joy.
ƃuolɐ sƃuᴉs ǝslǝ ʎpoqou ɟᴉ uǝʌƎ
It's with a delicate frown that Joy slowly crouches down on the sidewalk. "I asked if you are okay," she says softly, still frayed on the edges from her own momentary breakdown. "Who—who are you?" She asks, lips parted with unspoken questions, searching Ria's eyes.
ɔᴉsnɯ ɟo puᴉʞ uʍo ɹnoʎ ǝʞɐW
Ria doesn't answer. Instead she mirrors Joy's movements, searching the other woman's dark eyes with her own lighter ones. "Who—who are you?" Ria asks, mirroring Joy's cadence of speech. That question has Joy rocking back on her heels, standing up and taking a step away from Rianna like she noticed something that she had missed before.
ƃuos lɐᴉɔǝds uʍo ɹnoʎ ƃuᴉS
"What." Joy whispers, eyes wide and hands trembling.
ɔᴉsnɯ ɟo puᴉʞ uʍo ɹnoʎ ǝʞɐɯ ɐʇʇoƃ noʎ ʇnq
"What." Ria says, slowly standing up, hands trembling.
op oʇ ƃuᴉɥʇ ʇsǝpɹɐɥ ǝɥʇ s,ƃuᴉɥʇ ɹnoʎ op oʇ ʇsnſ
"What are you?" Joy rasps, her voice tight and fear causing the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. Ria tilts her head to the side in response to that question, looking away, then returns to look back at Joy with a slow shake of her head.
ƃuᴉoƃ ɥƃnoɹ ǝq ʎɐɯ ʇI
"I don't know," Ria whispers sharply, ragged with emotion. Fresh tears well up in her eyes and dribble down her cheeks. Her reaction has Joy lowering her guard, stepping in again with a sympathetic hand held out to the other woman. "Why're you here?" She wonders, looking up and down the abandoned street.
ʎlǝuol ɟo puᴉʞ ʇsǝᴉlǝuol ǝɥ┴
The question gives Joy pause. She looks down at her outstretched hand and wonders when she did that. She lowers it quickly. The question about why she's here is likewise baffling. Another look up and down the street confirms, she doesn't even know where here is, and worse, doesn't remember how she got here.
ǝɹǝɥʍou ǝq ɐuuoƃ ǝɹ,no⅄
"I don't kn—" Joy starts to say, but cuts herself off when she realizes it's exactly what Ria had said to her before. She takes another step back into the street. "What's your name?" She asks, nervously.
ƃuolɐ sƃuᴉs ǝslǝ ʎpoqou ɟᴉ uǝʌƎ
"I'm not sure." Ria says, hushed. "It's—it's getting hard to keep it all straight." She blinks away her tears, watching Joy. "I don't know if I can control this anymore."
ɔᴉsnɯ ɟo puᴉʞ uʍo ɹnoʎ ǝʞɐW
Steeling herself, Joy takes two steps forward. "Control what? Your—do you have an ability?"
ƃuos lɐᴉɔǝds uʍo ɹnoʎ ƃuᴉS
Ria looks down at her hands, staring vacantly. She isn't even sure how to explain it anymore. "Yes?" Joy hears the uncertainty in that answer clearly. It is unambiguous in its ambiguity. "Can—can you help me?"
ɔᴉsnɯ ɟo puᴉʞ uʍo ɹnoʎ ǝʞɐɯ ɐʇʇoƃ noʎ ʇnq
Joy shakes her head, taking another step, closing the distance to Ria. "No, but I know someone who might be able to." She says, offering out her hand again. "Come with me, and we can figure it out together."
noʎ ǝʞᴉl ǝuoǝɯos ǝǝs o┴
Something like a memory has Ria step back when Joy steps forward. "No," she whispers. But Joy doesn't realize she's not talking to her.
dn ɯǝɥʇ sƃuɐɥ ʇᴉ ǝsnɐƆ,
"I'm not going to hurt y—"
ɐʎ llǝs puɐ ʎɹʇ ʎɐɯ ʎǝɥ┴
"No!" Ria screams, and Joy ceases to
ƃuᴉƃuᴉs ɥʇɹoʍ ƃuos ǝuo ʎluo s,ǝɹǝɥ┴
Rianna Cardinal sits on the steps of a an abandoned bar. The door and windows are covered in plywood, though the shingle for the business—sun-bleached and faded—still hangs above the front stoop. Knees tucked up to her chest and arms around her legs, Ria looks at the empty street in front if her and the boarded up windows of a convenience store across the street. She presses her face into the back of her legs, brows scrunching together, eyes wrenched shut, whispering.
ɐʎ llǝʇ uɐɔ ʎpoqoN