What About Eve?


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Also Featuring:

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Scene Title What About Eve?
Synopsis Jonathan Smith attempts to find out more about the mysterious woman who sent Eve into his life.
Date April 25, 2019

“Baby steps, Eve,” Jonathan comments hands up in a staying motion. He leans out to look down the building to the entrance of the office. He wasn’t one to go sneaking about and being shady, but here he was, standing in an alley and still wearing his suit from his day at work. Creepy predator is the vibe he was getting about himself. However, it had been Jon’s idea to meet there, surrounded by trash cans and he is pretty sure… yeah… that is the smell of pee. There is a heavy sigh from the man and he pushes his glasses up.

“Let me… “ Jonathan glances down the way again at the sound of a car door. Why did he agree to this? Nope not him… calm your nerves, man. “Let me gauge his mood… see if he’s willing to talk and then I’ll give you the signal?” Didn’t seem like a half bad plan to him.


Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Jonathan brushes sweaty palms on his jacket. ”I admit. I’m feeling weird about the subterfus — “ Jon glances to Eve and lips press together. “No.. no no. Needs to be this way. Okay…” he says again. It was also the perfect time to do so, since Greg would be finishing up his paperwork and preparing to go home. Jonathan hopes.

Jonathan feels his anxiety ramp up. “Wish me luck,” he murmurs and steps out into the open. There is a smile that finds its way onto his lips as he works to close distance to the psychiatrist’s office.

Farkas Psychiatric

April 25th

5:19 pm

Farkas Psychiatric is a solitary, late 1800s brownstone situated just a few blocks from the Red Hook Market in one of the most re-developed parts of the Safe Zone. The front door of the building is open at this time of day, emptying into the spacious foyer of the home-come-office. Paintings of French landscapes hang on the walls of the lobby, two century old hardwood floors are accented with decorative rugs, and a claw foot oak desk flanked by bookshelves and adorned with the anachronisms of modern computers and phone systems demands attention.

Greg Farkas’ personal assistant, Elisa, looks up from behind the screen of her computer. Jonathan’s met her once or twice during council meetings, an athletic young woman with a subtle Russian accent. Very formal, always reliable. She lights up with a smile on seeing Jonathan enter, rising to stand and greet him halfway with a scuff of her flats on the floor.

“Mr. Smith,” Elisa says cheerfully, hands folded behind her back. “Are you here on council business? Mr. Farkas is just finishing up with a client, but he should be available in…” she glances down at her wristwatch, “two minutes?”

“Hey, Elisa right?” Jonathan gives her a bright, if nerve tinted smile. “You look lovely today,” is added a bit awkwardly, fingers pushing up those glasses again. ”I can wait, I don’t have much going on,” he glances at the door to Greg’s office curiously. Clearly, his guess had been off, though he doesn’t think much on it. “Just a few concerns over an incident. Nothing big, we won’t take much of his time. Promise. I know he’s a busy man.” He manages with a wave of his hand.

A glance is given to the door half expecting Eve to come barreling through it, but when it’s still empty, he relaxed some. “I’ll, just have a seat,” he comments lightly, motioning to the chairs in the entry. Why was he so nervous?

Elisa smiles patiently enough, but the smile is as much of a response as she gives to Jonathan, smoothing the back of her skirt down as she settles at her desk again. The soft click of keys fills the lobby, but soon enough there’s also the sound of footsteps on carpet approaching one of the oak doors. Muffled voices on the other side offer vaguely recognizable words like next time and certainly.

When the doors open a familiar woman’s voice joins Greg’s. “…and I really do appreciate it. I know Ing does too.” Sofia Webb is a familiar face around the Safe Zone Council, a constant shadow of her wife Ingrid. She looks like she’d been crying, eyes a little red and puffy, but she’s smiling in spite of herself. Greg walks behind her, his suit just a shade of gray darker than his hair. Both pause when they spot Jonathan sitting in the lobby, and Sofia’s expression lightens up with a warm smile.

“Oh! Hello there, Mr. Smith,” Sofia says as she breaks from Greg and comes walking over. “I didn’t realize Gregory had taken you on as a client. That’s so wonderful, I’m glad you’re talking to someone.” The earnesty in her voice is both heartwarming and bordering on naive. Greg comes up just slightly behind and beside her, one brow raised.

“Mr. Smith,” Gregory greets in his usual smooth and flat tone, offering a brief look back to Elisa, then returns his attention to the small gathering.

Jonathan is immediately on his feet, tugging his rumpled jacket self-consciously and clearing his throat with his nerves. When noticed, he straightens his posture a bit more and offers Sophia a smile… at least until she says that. “Mrs. Webb.” The smile falters and fades a bit, suddenly uncomfortable with the subject. For a brief flicker of a moment he even considers turning and leaving. “Ah… no, actually.” An apologetic glances is sent to Greg for intruding. “I had a couple of questions for the good doctor. Personal, but important.”

He gives Greg a bit more of his attention, hands fiddle where they hang folded in front of him. “Ah…Dr. Farkas. I know you are a busy man. I just need a couple of minutes.” Jonathan looks at him with a hope clear behind those thick black frames, which he lifts to adjust. “Please?” He adds as if it would help his case.

“For a friend, anything,” Greg says, gently placing a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder even as he turns his attention over to Sofia. “I’ll see you next week, Sofia. Remember what we talked about.” Sofia smiles in return, though a little wan.

“Of course. And, thank you.” Sofia says, a little more reservedly than before. She offers Jonathan a polite smile and a nod as she shows herself out, and Greg leads Jonathan into his office, only part way closing the door behind them. While it isn’t the first time Jonathan’s been in this building, it’s the first time he’s seen Gregory’s office. It’s spacious, a two-story library comprised of an open floor with a second story balcony accessible only by ladders. Books line the walls, and a sitting area with two leather armchairs is set upon a Persian rug before two tall curtained windows.

Greg finally lifts his hand off of Jonathan’s shoulder, one brow raised. “What is it I can help you with?”

From outside…

"Mmm. Go right, guard your flank." Eve whispers softly to herself as she watches through the window peeking in through the corner with wide blood red irises covered by dark sunglasses. Tapping her fingers on her chest lightly as she peers and watches Jonathan's SUCCESS BINGO WE ARE IN!!! Eve's internal monologue shouts and as Jon and Greg disappear into Greg's office the pale woman tiptoes over to the wall that must be the outside wall to the office.

Mischief on her face she raises her palms and presses against the wall. Something in her stirs, lurches to the side and her head angle along with it. A wince and the pale skin that covers her form seems to fade away being replaced by red mist and light.

A crackling nimbus of her hair floats above Eve and her body presses against the wall not to destroy it outright but the trick she learned. Lightning crackles over the surface of the wall as Eve passes through leaving the outside for Greg's office.

Sofia would catch a glimpse of her shining red form as it disappears into the wall. On the other side, Eve's form flows through the wall leaving scorch marks in its wake. Pulling on that place in the center of her mass, the former seer gasps as her pale skin rushes back to lay itself over her form. Leaving Eve dressed in a trench coat, silver roller skates and a pair of dark sunglasses shivering with red lightning crackling over her skin. Regardless that too wide grin that Eve is known for is flashed the way of the two gentlemen.

"Helllooo Greggy."

“Eve,” Jonathan starts firmly, once he’s recovered from the shock of the woman coming through the wall. His tone is a little like scolding one of his kids. “We talked about this,” his tone is calmer than it should be.Maybe it’s cause he can’t be hurt by her red form… still… “It’s rude to… to… whatever that was into someones place.” He motions towards the object in question with both hands. “Polite people use the door.

An apologetic look is turned back to the psychiatrist, as Jonathan tries to explain the intrusion. “I’m sorry, Greg.” dropping the formality for the moment, “We both have questions and hope you can help us clear up a… well a very concerning mystery. I wasn’t sure you’d talk to us.” A thumb motions between the red lady and himself. Jonathan knows her reputation, which means his fellow councilman does, too.

Greg is statue still in those first few moments, jaw squared and brows furrowed, staring at Eve in the way an animal might when encountering another predator. He looks out of the corner of his eyes to Jonathan, then slowly and reluctantly relaxes. Straightening his tie, Greg breathes in a deep and calming breath, then exhales a slow sigh and looks at Eve intently.

There’s silence in the room, silence and the sound of Greg’s deep breaths and another heavy sigh. “Ms. Mas,” Greg greets, never having known her personally but recognizing the face and demeanor of a woman notorious for both her pre-war vigilantism and post-war metaphors. “If you’re looking for help identifying that, ah,” Greg motions briefly at Eve, “trick, I’m not that kind of doctor.”

It’s hard to tell if that’s a joke or not.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry! Send the bill the repairs to Cat's Cradle!" If she starts doing that for everyone whose places she phases into she'll be broke before she knows it. Looking sheepish the woman stands there with her sunglasses on before she quickly snatches them off. It's rude to wear them inside. Why does she care all of a sudden? Eve smooths her hair back and tries to look off to the side coyly.

Greg is hot. "I admire your work!" She says entirely to loud for the space they are in. Eve tries to smile pleasantly and fails because her teeth are just pressed together too tightly. "I don't need you to inspect my body, unless you want to! I'm totally open." Heh.

Oh right.

"But we are here on serious business doctor, please contain yourself." This is how they do it in the movies. Eve is clapping her own back on the inside: that's right girl. Keep doing what you're doing. You got this, he's looking right at your chest. "There was a lady, I met her at a bus stop. Her name was Lisa! Lisa Bradbury she said not like the racist, or something. Anyway!" Eve goes to lean against the wall that she just previously phased through.

"She gave me a card! Said I could find her there, it was your card! But on the back was an address. Here I thought I was gonna smoke a bowl with my new friend and I walked into Kevlar here's house instead! Very tricky this Lisa is, she's blonde, yay high. Glasses, she's funny too." Eve says as if that helps anything. Waving over at Jonathan, "He's got the card take a look! I'm not allowed to hold paper items. They just poof." Making the universal sign for explosion with her hands and mouth.

Fingers briefly pinch the bridge of his nose, lifting Jonathan’s glasses a bit to accomplish that. There were somethings about Eve that the councilman was still working through and getting used too. Her lack of filter was one.

Luckily, she offers a distraction by mentioning the card. Oh yes! The card. The business card in question is fished from a pocket and offered up to Greg to take. “Maybe it looks familiar. Or the handwriting on the back. I’m not saying she couldn’t get it anywhere, but I told Eve it was worth a shot.” He motions to the card, “You can see where my concern comes into it. Someone giving strangers the address to my home? Or possible the homes of others.”

A smile is offered to Eve, as he continues, “She ended up being alright, but next time I might not be so lucky.”

Greg quietly reaches out and takes the card, an island in the storm that is Hurricane Eve. He turns it over, looking at Jonathan’s address, then to the other side to see that it is one of his. Greg’s eyes narrow subtly, and without looking up from the card he deadpans, “Yes, I imagine you wouldn't want total strangers just walking into your home.” Greg looks up at Eve, then over to Jonathan as he returns the card.

“I am unfamiliar with the name Lisa Bradbury, aside from the similarities her surname shares with the classic author.” Greg admits with a hint of apology in his voice. “Unfortunately I can't control what past clients or business associations choose to do with my stationary, or what the random populace of this fair city will do when possessed with them.” He shrugs, helplessly.

“I'm sorry for your circumstances,” Greg says quietly, “I wish I could be of more help. Unfortunately, my resources begin and end at psychiatric care.” He looks from Jonathan to Eve, not directly implying anything but opening the table to discuss it never the less.

Eve looks down at the ground, a dead end. How sad. She did want to smoke another joint with the blonde. Nodding her head faintly, "Well I suppose this is true. What a mystery! I would just hold that card back in the day and," throwing her head back and rolling her eyes in the back of her head to demonstrate before lowering her face again and grinning at the men.

"Like that and see all sorts of wild shit but that's not so." The pale woman claps her hands along her thighs and sighs, "I stayed at Benchmark. I took a break even. I feel quite sorted Doctor Mcsteamy, promise."

“That’s a shame really.” Jon says, while Eve gets a bit of a side eye. He doesn’t comment on what she says, he’s feeling a bit called out by Greg himself… Even Sofia. There were certain topics that were a sore point. His mental health being one. “Thank you, Dr. Farkas,” Jonathan says a touch quietly, slipping into the more formal name, forcing in that happier tone he is known for. “For your time.”
Jonathan doesn’t really look Greg in the eye, at this point, as he retrieves the card. He keeps his attention on it, fingers drumming along the back of it nervously. He knows what many think about him and his past. He clears his throat and pushes his glasses up his nose. “It was worth a looking into. Pretty curious about this woman. But, if we didn’t ask, we would have wondered. Right?”

He finally looks up again and gives Greg a sheepish smile, offering a hand out to the man. “We’ll get out of your hair and let you get on with your evening. Again, really appreciate your time, sir.”

Greg smiles thinly, nodding once. “Think nothing of it, I’m glad to have been of any help and… if there’s anything you think of that I might be able to assist with in the future, do feel free to come through my door.” And that last part is emphasized with a sharp look at Eve. She knows what she did.

While polite, it’s clear that Greg is eager to end his day and get his two unexpected guests out of his office. He walks with Jonathan and Eve both to the front door, cordial and kind with them both without even the slightest of issues. He offers a fond farewell to Jonathan, and a cooler but still polite one to Eve, and sees them off onto the street. As he closes his front doors, locking them, Greg turns back to his receptionist and furrows his brows, reaching up to loosen the knot of his tie.

“Lisa Bradbury,” Greg repeats the name as he walks over to her desk. “I need you to find everything you can on her. Whatever it takes.” Elisa nods, slowly rising to her feet and smoothing out her skirt before she leans forward and locks her computer screen, upturning her attention to Greg.

“You’ll be the first to know as soon as I find something,” Elisa says quietly, to which Greg replies in a small and subtle nod, turning to look out the street from the front windows of the office, watching Jonathan and Eve on the sidewalk.

“Something is going on…” Greg says quietly. “Cancel my appointments for tomorrow,” he says after a moment of thought.

“I need to talk to my father.”

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