Participants:
| Scene Title | Utmost Confidence |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Remi and Richard meet to have a chat about her cousin. |
| Date | June 4, 2019 |
Raytech NYCSZ Branch Office - Richard's Office
There’s business to take care of. It’s getting closer and closer to the opening of Fiddler’s Green, with Novelle Vue coming closer and closer to being complete. They’ve been putting the finishing touches on the interiors and exteriors, seating will soon be installed, the stage will be outfitted with all of the necessities. Meanwhile, Remi’s been running rehearsals in a smallish garage she rented out on the Bay Ridge waterfront, and everything seems to be going according to plan.
That explains most of why Remi’s here. There’s also the matter of her ability’s return, and the matter of her cousin who seems to be extraordinarily interested in Raytech.
The telepath, dressed in a sharp-looking beige pinstripe suit, sits in one of the chairs at Richard’s desk, her legs crossed at the ankle as she organizes her paperwork. Meanwhile, her mind is busy listening, as she does.
“So…” Richard leans back in his chair, eyebrows raising, “…first, congratulations on your ability returning.” He’s aware, of course, after the messages she sent him. It’s obvious by the way he’s absolutely focused on thinking about the time his cat got tangled up in a ball of string and rolled around helplessly but adorably until rescued.
His sister’s a telepath, after all.
“Second, just what’s all this about your cousin?”
More than anything, it serves as a good warning system so she’s not surprised as often — it was getting a bit old, having a jump scare every time someone snuck up on her. “Thank you,” she replies, smiling. “It’s good to have it back. I never realised how much my ability is a part of me until it was gone for so long.”
The paperwork is pushed across the table. It’s nothing much, just a few signoffs for construction and the like. “Spotted her on my way out a while back, and I keep running into her.” She tips her head toward the man. “I didn’t realize until I got my ability back that she’s having some unnatural memory issues going on.” A pause. “She…doesn’t seem to identify herself as Tibby.”
“Are you sure it is her, and not just someone who looks similar?” Richard’s brows lift a little at that, “I mean, look-alikes aren’t unheard of, Remi.” A faint smile at the mention of it being a part of her, and he nods a little.
That, he understands.
“No, it’s — it’s definitely her.” She sounds confident, but also seems a bit hesitant to explain exactly why she is so confident. After a moment, she reaches out, offering a hand to Richard. “I can tell you, but it’s so much easier and more secure to just show you.” She knows and trusts Richard, but one never knows exactly who might be listening in on what.
And she really doesn’t want to have a paper or digital trail on this particular information — not if she can help it. She did, after all, take a brand new drug with her cousin.
“Alright,” says Richard, hesitating a moment before reaching out across the table to take the offered hand, a single brow lifting. “Go for it.”
“This might be a little disorienting.” As he takes her hand, Richard can feel…something. It’s like, all of a sudden, a wall has been knocked down between Remi’s mind and his, and suddenly their minds are one and the same. It is a bit disorienting, because suddenly he can feel a bit what it’s like to be a telepath, mental voices of Raytech employees mumbling static through the periphery. He can feel the concentration it takes to keep them at that level.
Richard could easily dive headlong into Remi’s mind, seeing all sorts of things he might not be meant to see while wandering the halls, as it were. She knows it, and he knows it. On the other hand, his mind is equally open to hers, and she’s been doing this for a good amount of her life. It’s an oddly intimate experience, the temporary melding of two minds.
She keeps his good faith in her, her mind remaining at the border where she becomes he. A few memories flit past like little birds, containing faces Richard may or may not recognize, before the one she’s looking for shows up. Walking past women dancing on stage. Being led through the back to a private room, wherein “The Dominator”, Cesar Diaz, gave her and Rue Lancaster and Tibby Naidu a private show.
And the new drug, Zeitgeist.
This is being shown to you in utmost confidence, Remi’s ‘voice’ points out over the memory. A bit of a fast forward, and then the memory she saw of Tibby’s, which is confirmation enough for her that this is not a clone.
The mind behind the shadowmorph’s eyes is a busy one; connections being made and hypothesized constantly, frameworks appearing and disappearing as he attempts to find the shape of events and predict what’s coming. He’s not Edward, but he’s trained himself to think in a similar way, even if he doesn’t have the ability to back it. Those memories from the clubare experienced, and in their wake Richard is silent… drawing back slowly, fingers brushing away from her hand.
“Christ,” he breathes out, sinking back in his chair and rubbing both hands over his face, “A telepathic drug? How did— how would that even work? Scientifically that’s— “
He shakes his head, “Well, let me tell you my research team would love to have a sample. Anyway, ah— right. So she’s Tibby, but she doesn’t know she’s Tibby?”
“I have a connection,” obviously, “They put it into…I think a fog machine? Same general technology. I…intended to go back. If I can get you one of those samples, I’ll be glad to help out,” Remi murmurs, watching Richard thoughtfully. “Part of me suspects that some of the people in the room might have something to do with it.” The woman raises a hand, tapping her temple once. “I may be able to get more insight with another visit, in any case.”
Then, she nods slowly. “Exactly. I feel like, with what little I’ve seen, she might not have access to her memories? She seemed pretty confused by the memory of Caspian,” she explains, leaning back in her seat. “I don’t know what the other me could do, and I know your sister is a telepath,” she adds, “but if you need any clandestine telepathy work done for you, well.” She offers a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, leaving the rest of that unsaid.
“It may just be a smoke-and-mirrors trick,” is Richard’s musing thought, “If they have a telepath that can force-broadcast peoples’ memories, maybe… the fog machine could just be a mild hallucinogen, or something to get you high. I can’t even conceive of an actual chemical mixture that could do this… but, well. Science gets stranger every day.”
A finger points in her direction, “And you’re lucky. Refrain typically doesn’t mix well with telepathy. Be careful with the weird drugs.” A twitch of his lips, “And of course I’d never need any clandestine telepathy.”
“If that’s the case, I’m sure I will find out in rather short order now that my ability is back,” she replies, crossing one leg over the other. “Telepaths don’t tend to mix well with telepaths, as I’m sure you know. It’s like if you hold two phones together, mic to earpiece. Feedback loop.” The woman shakes her head, a small smirk on her face.
“I…” She frowns. “I wish that weren’t the case. The memories are…” Well. “It allowed me to think back on someone with positive memories instead of the memory of…well, the memory of her brains blown out onto my cheek,” she adds, shaking her head.
So that’s a struggle she’s been going through since coming here. This is the first hint, really, that Richard’s seen of her not doing as well as she could be doing in this new world.
Richard’s expression turns sympathetic as he leans forward against the table’s edge. “I’m glad of that, at least,” he says quietly, “But don’t risk permanent damage to yourself chasing those memories, Remi. I don’t want to lose you like we lost Eve, to drugs and burn-out.”
He shakes his head, “Go take a break, relax— we’ll be at your opening.”
“Fortunately,” she replies, “I don’t think my ability allows for me to go that far.” Remi offers a small, weak smile, gathering the paperwork she brought in and placing it in her bag. “I was spiraling into alcoholism, pretty sure, up until my ability returned. I am happy to report that I can only manage a nightcap these days.” She smirks. “Unless I want to become a hermit out in the woods somewhere, I’m not likely to go too out of control.”
She stands, giving Richard a more sincere smile. “Good seeing you. I’ll be in touch,” she murmurs, before turning and sweeping out of the room without another word.