Participants:
| Scene Title | Wolves and Sheep |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Melissa and Huruma circle each other while talking about Messiah. |
| Date | June 17, 2010 |
Port Ivory: Outside of Howland Hook Facility
It's late afternoon when Melissa comes wandering over from her little slice of Staten Island. It's a short walk for her, which, although not intentional, is rather handy. Of course if the place gets bombed it might also mess up her home, but life is nothing if not a series of trade offs.
With the heat at it's hottest for the day, she doesn't seem too uncomfortable in her black skirt and corset, with the red scarf tied around her waist. Or maybe she's just used to hiding it. Either way, she strolls past the construction crews as they work on packing up, at least the few who remain, and she's got a little smile on her lips.
Huruma has a tendency to leave her bike in conspicuous places when she comes through- perhaps she is confident in that none of them will find the balls to mess with it. This time is little different. Her bike is simply parked off to the side of the entrance of one of the more office-like trailers; a notable thing is that she is still straddling it. By removing the helmet, however, it is also duly noted that she may have arrived just minutes before Melissa's wandering into the facility.
For whatever reason that Huruma has parked there, it has nothing to do with the trailer she has parked nearby; when she sheds her full helmet onto the bike after swinging herself from the seat, there is a momentary dusting of leather and coat before she visually considers a route towards the east.
Spotting the woman and her bike, Melissa cocks her head slightly and studies the former, not as interested in the latter. Huruma though she recognizes, not just from the meeting the week before, but from a while back in the park. The same day she met Luke. She shakes her head slightly but carries on, a slightly smile curving her lips.
When she gets closer, enough so she doesn't have to shout, she offers the other woman a nod. "Hey."
Descending zipper reveals the splash of red under her jacket, tied loose around her neck. Huruma turns her head to evaluate the source of the voice, eyes drifting slowly to a halt on Melissa. The pause she creates is somewhat long, as pale eyes take stock of the girl in black and red, from blonde hair to the soles of her feet. After a length, Huruma lifts her eyes to Melissa's face.
"Hello." Even now, her tone is curt; she knows that she does not know this girl, save for a sighting during pertinent meetings. The feelers of her ability reach out tentatively, gauging the young woman's purpose.
The wariness has Melissa's smile growing a bit. She doesn't seem to have any real purpose, is just curious, and beneath that, just in a good mood. "We didn't get a chance to talk before. I'm Mel," she offers, her steps slowing, then stopping once she's close enough for a conversation range.
"Mmm." Huruma's lips purse, the corners pinching back as she watches Melissa. Her hands seem to move of their own accord, putting her keys away and finishing the work of her zipper. "You came wit 'Petrelli, yes?" Rather than make with information, she makes with small talk that she probably knows the answer to anyway. "I'd no'seen you b'fore- at least not f'what activities we'ave been doing."
The question has Melissa nodding. "Yeah, I did. And no, you hadn't." She smiles again, and says, quite pleasantly, "And if you want more information about me, you'll need to give me your name first."
"Huruma." Her answer is simple, noncommittal. She could ask more, or she couldn't. "He looks t'much like a lost pup." A comment on the subject of Peter Petrelli. "I'ave worked with him b'fore- in a sense. He was …more of a wolf, back then." Kazimir did a lot for Peter's aura of leadership in Apollo. It does not seem as though Huruma is all too keen on the idea of working anywhere under this one.
Melissa's head tilts, and her brows lift. "Sometimes the wolf hides amongst the sheep, and forgets to stop pretending when back when the other wolves," she says finally, shrugging slightly. Then she smiles yet again. "Besides, looks can be deceiving."
"Have you worked wit'him?" Huruma scoffs, a little loudly to boot. "If you'aven't, don'make him something he is probably not." The empath's faith in the other empath is minute. "We shall see how much of Volken he keeps t'breast. Here is hoping that it is more than he imagined." The dark woman's low voice smoothes out as she lifts a hand around an invisible glass.
"I would prefer he t'be th'man you see."
"I'm not making him into anything. I said sometimes wolves hide, and that looks can be deceiving," Melissa replies, shrugging, digging out a cigarette pack that's tucked on the inside of the scarf, and lighting up. Once she's exhaled a plume of pale smoke she focuses on Huruma again.
"You know Volken, huh? Can't say I ever met him. Heard mixed opinions about him though. And all in all, I'd rather a person be who they are. Leads to less confusion in the end, don't you think?" Mel asks. "Like you, if you pretended to be all soft and sweet, it'd make me come to expect one thing, and then when you acted yourself…total chaos. Especially since we're together in this little revolution."
Huruma smiles thinly, perching one hand on her hip and swaying her weight onto one leg. "How do you know tha'I am not already?"
"As for me- I know how every person is. Simply a matter of …delving deeper. So to speak."
Melissa smiles and shrugs. "Unless you're a telepath, and a very good one, I doubt you know everything about a person. And I don't know, it was just an example I was giving."
Huruma only notches up an eyebrow, head swiveling into a place that suggests that just maybe she is- or at least close to it, in her mind. "Just how much d'you know about 'this little revolution'?"
Melissa is the type of woman who would 'test' someone who hasn't said outright that they're a telepath, and that is precisely what she does next. While studying Huruma's face, she thinks, very clearly (and falsely), I think you're a dumb bitch. If she were a telepath, it would probably get a flicker of something out of the other woman. But it doesn't stop her from continuing the conversation either.
A shoulder shifts in a shrug. "Details? Not much. I got the general idea, some of the history. But the first time I'd heard about it was…oh…half an hour before you saw me at the meeting last week."
There is something there when Melissa thinks it. Something- it is not necessarily recognition of what Melissa says- but the reason she says it. A reaction to the series emotions tied to wanting to test Huruma.
Her brow lifts further upward, eyelids hovering low. The upper corner of her lip lifts as if to snipe back, though it turns upward into a half-winded smile.
"Half an hour. Delightful." She drawls. "Study up if you must. Knowledge is power, cliche, yet accurate."
Melissa continues to study Huruma, then she shrugs. "The time doesn't matter, just what you do with it. And trust me, I'm well aware of the truth in the cliche." Which is why she's been info gathering for the past few days. "Perhaps you'd care to enlighten me?"
"Depends on what you want t'know." Huruma replies, wandering closer with a meandering speed. "What questions d'you really'ave?" She ventures around Melissa- past her, only to make a u-turn.
Melissa turns as Huruma moves, keeping the woman she's never really met before away from her back. Common goal or not, trust isn't immediate. "Well you mentioned 'this little revolution', so what do you know about it that wasn't said at the meeting?"
"Other than it has been attempted time an'time again- little more than, when it comes t'such a broad question. Though he was honest in explanation, this is halfway a personal war- tha'much I know. There mus'be fast tactical work if this is not t'be simply another grudge match. Have you spoken t'many others? Th'men up there with Peter?"
Huruma pauses on Melissa's other side, hands at her own thighs.
Melissa shakes her head. "Not yet. But I intend to. Have you?" she asks, though it sounds as though she expects the answer to be no. "As for tactics…Sounds like they're already working on it."
"Yes." Huruma steps away again, pivoting on one heel to look back. "I've known some of them from …similar ventures. Operations. So-called adventures in arms. From what I can tell- Carmichael is lead tactician. I suggest you get t'know him. He will do his best in using your strengths, whatever they happen t'be."
Melissa smiles. "I'm sure he's been told what I can do." She pauses a moment to consider. "Most of it anyway," she murmurs, brow furrowing lightly. "Anyone you saw at the meeting that you'd consider to be trouble waiting to happen?"
"Not only in terms of your ability, if that is what you mean." Huruma very nearly cuts her off. "Speak with him about your preferences as well." The last thing that she needs is another Hagan O'Sullivan cracking out and leaving because of a little squick.
"Varlane." Surprise. "There were a few other young men, too. Names escape me."
Melissa shrugs. "Wasn't just thinking of my ability. And yeah, I know Magnes." Though it sounds as though she almost wishes she didn't. "Another kid was there. Young, has never fought before. I'm not sure he'll be able to handle it, though he seems willing enough to try."
"This bothers me too. Sending babes t'do a soldier's job." Huruma curls her lip in such an obvious manner that it seems like she just tasted something sour. "Willingness means nothing if he cannot perform."
Melissa smiles faintly. "He seems to be working on that too. And all soldiers start out young or innocent at some point in their lives. Maybe he'll toughen up."
"I should very much hope so. If not, I fear we may be short half of our troops." There were a lot of young people- and though Huruma may be exaggerating, she has a point. Then again, she does not feel like teaching anyone much of anything if she does not need to.
"Quality over quantity," Melissa murmurs thoughtfully. "Well, guess we'll see how things go when it's time for the first party," she says after a moment, shrugging.
Huruma laughs. The noise is swarthy, almost, a langourous sort of thing. "Per'aps we shall thin the herd." Weed out the lame ones by getting them killed. Hilarious.
Melissa arches a brow. "Big on natural selection, are you? Me? I'd rather keep all of our people alive, and just off the ones who need killin'."
"To keep them all well is a fool's errand. Some of them will die. Some of them will die early. Hopefully not as many as I suspect." Huruma's laugh simmers away, and she regards Melissa with a half smile.
Melissa shrugs. "Hope for the best, plan for the worst. Anyway, I should get goin'. It was…interesting," she says, unable to bring herself to really call the conversation nice.
"See you around, Melissa." When Huruma speaks a name, it is always with the utmost deliberation. Enough so that many times, it drips from her mouth in a most dubious way. With that, she is off again, slipping away between construction machines and trailers.