We Were Friends Once


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Scene Title We Were Friends Once
Synopsis Eve Mas and Peter Petrelli reunite under unfortunate circumstances…
Date December 9, 2010

The Center Stage

It stinks of sweat and bile down in the basement of Coco's Boxing Gym in Long Island City. The attack earlier this week by armored figures, not followed by an attack by police, has done little to dismiss the clientelle of an increasingly seedy underbelly of organized fighting and illicit drug trafficking at the underground fighting arena nicknamed the Center Stage.

Late in the evening, just after sunset with several hours yet till curfew, the greasy and vile clientelle of this place in its off days have come to swap things other than fisticuffs. The drug trade here is high, along with other illicit possessions, back door deals and criminal activity. Owned and operated by the Ghost Shadows Triad, this den has become more and more under their oppressive heel in the time since the Great Storm threatened to put Manhattan into a deep freeze.

Amidst the haze of cigarette smoke and voices, Peter Petrelli blends in to his environment in unfortunate quality. Grimly adorned with his old scar in new fashion, Peter's dour countenance is a troubled one. Behind dark-eyed stare, he listens to the pounding pulse of electronic music reverberating through the basement from the speakers arranged around the ceiling.

Beer in a can, served from a cooler rests in one of Peter's hands. He watches a pair of young women in the cage, dancing, flickering lights up above him shifting from red to purple thorugh shades of green. Financially lucretive, the Triad have turned the Center Stage into an illegal club during off days.

Peter Petrelli has come here to soak his troubles up at the bottom of a beer.

"Wallowing?" A voice comes out from behind Peter. A hand drumming on his back and then a woman is coming to stand in front of him, head tilted to the side raven dark hair falling into her eerie light grey eyes. Here's a face he hasn't seen in forever. An old friend.

"Hello, Peter." Is said with a small smile as Eve Mas comes to stand in front of Peter Pertrelli and he gets a look at her. Dressed in a deep red dress, slits up the side showing a little of leg and her knee high combat boots. Her facial expression one of pondering.. she looks like she's ready to drop on her feet. Dead tired.

"You know.. when I thought of us seeing each other again.. I didn't imagine this." she waves her hand around the Center Stage and she sighs. She looks saner than he's ever seen her, but there's still something off about her. She sways a little to the side as she eyes Peter. She hasn't been sleeping, not willing to use her new little bit of control she has over her dreams to awaken herself. She needs to see it all. "Missed you." She says softly as she looks over her shoulder at the women in the cage.


"Eve," sounds less surprised than it should. Peter's brows furrow as he watches his old friend with a moment of scrutiny, sitting up straight in his chair and bristling a little once the surprise has fully dawned on him. "Where've you been? I haven't seen you since…" there's a chuff of breath out his nose, "since before the storm last winter." Glancing askance to the cage to follow Eve's stare, then back up again.

"Take a seat if you're gonna linger, you look like you're about to drop flat on your face." Peter's brown eyes narrow, head tilts askance and as he considers Eve he asks perhaps the obvious question from someone who isn't in the loop. "Where've you been?"

Her eyes linger on his new.. old scar. Eyebrows raised before she listens to the man and sinks into the chair next to him, leaning heavily against the wall. "Peter.." she starts and then she's shaking her head. "Well.. The Institute, you know being run by that other guy from the future.. Cardinal. I've been in their custody.. for months." she rubs her aching neck and she's sighing and then rubbing her forehead.

"They took my memories.. and my paintings." The last bit, makes Eve grimace. But she refuses to cry, at least not here. She'll save that for before she goes to bed. "Where have you been?" her eyes on Peter now, the worry evident on her face before she closes her eyes again and she's waving at one of the working girls here. A drink being brought to her. She takes a sip and then takes a deep breath. She needs to sleep but she had to come here first, she had to see Peter.

Oh boy, Eve's gone completely off the deep end.

"Right," Peter offers in a placating tone of voice, brows furrowed and one hand rubbing at his scar gently. "I've been around…" is dismissively offered by Peter, brows furrowed and head hanging as he stares down at the can of beer in his hand. "Nothing important, nothing worthwhile." Peter's eyes unfocus, a look cast askance to one of the dancers in the cages, then a look to Eve.

"I'm headed out of the city… sometime. I don't know when, but— there's nothing here for me. Not anymore." Lifting the can of Pabst Blue Ribbon up, Peter tips it back and takes a swig before setting it down with a clink on the cheap tabletop. "You should sleep, Eve, you look like shit."

A hand goes to lay on Peter's arm and she shakes her head. "Don't.. don't you do that to me. We've been through way to much for you to do that to me." Brushing her off.. treating her like she's a loony. She is a loony but it's not like she wants people to give her the look all the time. The, oh there goes the crazy talking again, look.

She takes another swig of her drink and she's looking in Peter's eyes. "I'm sorry that I couldn't help." She says and her hand grips his arm tightly. She doesn't remember what she didn't help with, but just that she felt as if she should have been helping Peter. "Ask anyone about the Institute and the game that Richard Cardinal is playing." She shrugs lightly, placing her drink on the table as well.

"I'm well aware that I look like shit it's why I didn't go to sing at the Lounge tonight. You don't look any better, you're still brooding." She says with a wave of her hand. Even that takes a little bit of her strength to do. "Look." her tone becoming a little more firm, but still retaining it's airy quality. The way it always sounds. "Let me come with, you owe me. Plus.. after I see Gillian.. I'll need to get out of town anyway. This city is going to burn Peter.. too many people are vying for control. I need a break.. a real one." Because whatever she was doing in the Institute, she doesn't consider it a break. "So let's travel together. I have some family in Europe." She says in a singsong voice and a pointed look is given to Peter. It's like.. the old Eve for a moment. When she was literally insane but still carefree. She was still able to have fun.

"Plus.. I don't trust you alone. You shouldn't have to do everything alone." Her head tilts as she looks at Peter closely. Come on, it's Eve here.

"Go away, Eve," is Peter's grumbling warning as he jerks his arm away from her, sloshing his beer around in the can in the process. "I don't care what it is you want, I'm sick and tired of catering to what everyone else wants!" The beer slams down on the table top with a clank of aluminum. "This isn't a fucking game and the last thing I want to talk about is Richard fucking Cardinal!" That's going to become his real middle name if enough people say it.

"I'm sorry you're in whatever you're in right now, but I don't want any company." Waving one hand towards the empty seat at the table, Peter's dark eyes narrow. "In case you haven't noticed, I came here alone. That's also how I intend to leave."

She's use too this, if you're a friend of Peter's you have to be. She momentarily reels backwards from the force of his jerking away from her and then she's sighing and getting to her feet. "Peter.. what the fuck." She waves her hands in air and rolls her eyes. "I don't want anything from you!" Except to go along with him to wherever it is, he's going. "You're so use to people using you and fucking your brain up, you can't even tell when someone is being a friend to you." Eve takes that moment to poke him in the head lightly, with her finger. "And that's what I'm saying, dumbass. It isn't a game and everyone is going to die because they think it is."

It's like how they use to be, bickering all the time. "Intend." she shakes her head, snorting at Peter, "We intended a lot of things. We wanted to stop the oppression of the government through registration. We," she pokes him in the chest hard and her eyes narrow, tired as she is it's a wonder she can do this. "Thought we were making a difference.. well you had your reasons for joining up with PARIAH." She eyes Peter closely, "And now look at us.. both registered like animals. And you think you're the only one with problems Peter?" hair flies into her face as she whips it behind her shoulders.

"Stop taking it out on me.. stop trying to push me away. Just stop." she says tiredly and then she's leaning against the chair and staring Peter in the eye. "You're better than this." She nods her head at the cage, she means he's better than the situation that he's in now. "We play this game every time we see each other." For two years it's been. Not that much as changed. "You think I won't just go to where you're going? You'll have to kill me." She puts a hand on her hip, glaring at Peter.

"We aren't doing anything," Peter states as he slowly pushes up to his feet, leaving his beer on the table. "I don't need your friendship, I don't want it either. I don't care if this whole goddamned world burns to the ground overnight, because you know what?" Peter's nose rankles. "I'm not going to be the one responsible for it this time." At least not through anything but inaction.

"You follow me, wherever I wind up, and don't think I won't make sure you don't follow me a second time." Two fingers point threateningly at Eve, and as Peter's hand slowly lowers, his lips downturn into a frustrated frown. "I'm sick and tired of people wanting to be in my life. I'm done, it's over. I'm getting the hell out of this city before it does any more damage to me."

There's a weakness in his tone, a brokenness, helpless. "I tried to fight and look what happened. I'm done. Leave me alone."

"Shut up."

"You were used.. manipulated.. into the things that led to that." He knows what she means by that. "It's something that you probably will never get over, but you have to try." She persists with him, he doesn't look so good. Walking up closer to Peter, she tilts her head at him. "Don't you act like you're gonna kill me. You aren't the monster that they tried to create," she gets closer and shakes her head. "It doesn't matter if you want my friendship, we bonded way long before this. Our paths were intertwined the night that we all met underground." She stands straighter to look at Peter in the eye.

"Not letting you do this alone, I won't." her own voice cracking as she shakes her head. "You might not think it's the best idea, but you don't need to be alone. Nobody does." Her hand shakes a little as she looks away from Peter. "If you leave the city, I leave the city." It's that simple, unlike most people.. who probably give up on Peter. Eve isn't one of them.. mostly because she's not all there in the head. But the other reason being.. she can't let him suffer anymore. Not like this.

"So let's go. Right now." She arches an eyebrow at the man of multiple abilities. "Stop fighting, just let it go."

There's a long, pointed stare is leveled to Eve. Admittedly, it takes on a momentary softness, at least up until Peter exhales a sigh, eyes closing and brows furrowing together. At first, it looks like an expression of marked frustration that washes across Peter's face, the throbbing bass-line and beat of electronic music pounding against the walls of the basement and the inside of Peter's skull.

Filtering out the incessant noise however, is what Peter is actually doing. Kaylee Anne Thatcher is a young, talented woman. In Peter's hands, her scalpel-precise telepathy is just as sharp and just as dangerous. When wielded aggressively, as Peter has suddenly seen fit to do, it takes on a whole different milleau, inspired by his training with Matthew Parkman's brand of telepathy, honed more recently in the battle at Breakneck Road.

Eve, Peter's psychic voice resonates in her mind, Leave me alone..

It isn't a request, it's a command.

Her eyes narrow as she backs up from Peter, once a safe distance. She picks the glass up from the table and downs the rest of the drink. It's then proceeded to be thrown against the wall. Shattering it. You can tell from her facial expression that she isn't happy about this.. at all.

Eve stands there, fuming at Peter. But not saying anything else. Her body poised as if she's ready to jump on him at any moment. This is pretty normal behavior for the two, the arguing but he just used telepathy on her. That's low, even for Peter. A tear streams down from Eve's eyes and she quickly rubs it away. Her eyes close and she bows her head forward.

You'll like family to me, I'm worried. She thinks that loud and clear, knowing Peter would get it. He said, leave him alone. He didn't say in what capacity. She doesn't leave, instead she's standing there. Head raised now, eyes locked with Peter's. Her head hurts now, from Peter's intrusion. But she's physically silent. Nothing else left to say. As least for now.

Good enough, is Peter's assessment of the situation. He takes a step back, brows furrowed, then turns away from Eve, zipping up his leather jacket as he makes a steady progress away from where she's been cornered from the telepathic command, weaving through the crowd of people down in the Center Stage on this dismal night.

You were a good friend once, Eve. Peter's voice rings in her head, even as he disappears out of sight into the crowd amidst the sea of bodies and swishing lights. It's as much a farewell as it is a warning.

Don't follow me, he has the courtesy of simply asking her, his voice resonating softly in her mind.

I'm done playing hero.

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