2007-03-08: Impromptu Consultations


Jonas_icon.gif Jeremy_icon.gif

Date It Happened: March 08, 2007

Summary: Jonas visits Jeremy, seeking information. Jeremy is happy to give it, even if it's not a heck of a lot.

Impromptu Consultation

Bitchin' Stitchin', New York

At first, one might simply think this is just an alterations store. And it is. There's a front desk, and behind a curtain, work tables with sewing machines and dress forms litter the area. There are touches here and there that give a different impression, however. Beaded curtains decorate the windows, a small bookshelf filled with new age and scientific journals alike, and a huge, eye-grabbing noticeboard is predominant, featuring many an amateur brochure tacked up, advertising much of what the flyers have advertised. It's late in the day and Jeremy is working on a pair of jeans, and looks up as the last employee apart from him makes their way out for the day. "Bye, Karen," he says, and soon, he's alone in the store, just doing his thing, the whir of the machine overriding the classical music from the speakers.

Outside the store, Jonas observes not only this store, but several other places around it. Nothing important there though; so he decides it's time to pay a visit. He doesn't want to be noticed walking in through the door, so he concentrates on that. Upon walking in, hopefully with no-one paying any attention to unimportant old him, he begins looking for Jeremy.

While hard at work, Jeremy isn't the intense sort. Occasionally, he'll lean over and adjust the volume of music, perhaps stop just to spin in his chair in abstract boredom before returning to the world of sewing. So it's unusual that the door should open, with its bell, and someone walk into the cramped space and not get Jeremy's easily gettable attention. A glance is given and then dismissed, head down as he runs the fabric through the machine as if nothing had happened.

Jonas walks through the store, looking around for potential weapons, moving them away from Jeremy. He still concentrates on not being noticed as he does so. Eventually, there isn't even a pair of overly sharp scissors near Jeremy, as Jonas stops concentrating. "Nice flyer. Why don't you tell me what you know about these… abilities you refer to?" He is wearing a rather sharp suit, and under his left breast is a bulge which could easily be a holstered gun.

WHIRRR! That is the sound of a sudden bunching of fabric and the protest of the sewing machine before Jeremy takes his foot off the pedal. A startled action, and Jeremy takes a moment to simply blink at the stranger through his glasses, before taking them off and standing up. "Jeeze, I… I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in," he says, baffled apology in his voice. "My flyers?" It takes him a moment to collect his thoughts, looking the stranger up and down. "The ones on extraordinary human capabilities?" Now there's a glimmer of interest and hope in his voice. "I really expect people to call ahead, but, I mean. You know." He dismisses that with a flap of his hand. "What would you like to know?"

"I know you didn't notice me come in; I didn't want you to. Spending the rest of my life as a lab rat doesn't really appeal to me," Jonas says drily. "I had to be sure this wasn't a trap. Why don't you start with what causes it, if you know?" he asks, finding somewhere to sit down.

Jeremy belatedly gestures towards a seat, but Jonas is already making himself comfortable, so Jeremy does the same. The semi-ruined jeans lay caught up in the sewing machine behind him, and completely ignored. "It's in your DNA," he says, soberly, though he seems to be enjoying himself. "Whatever it is, anyway. It's not really caused by anything, it's in your genes. You're just…" A loose shrug. "Special, or you're not. Advanced. What's your 'it', anyway? Invisibility? Ooh, induced camouflage? Or did you teleport?" Avid interest, here.

"I suppose you could call it invisibility," Jonas answers. And it is, sort of. "So this is something I got from my parents? Guess I owe them more than I thought. How did you find out about this?"

"Something like that," Jeremy agrees, with a wider smile. "It doesn't necessarily mean that your parents were special like you, but it's likely. Or someone was, in your family. The science behind it… it's not such a thoroughly researched field, or anything. And I'm not—" He stands up, now, heading towards the bookshelf. "I'm no scientist." A ratty, much read copy of Activating Evolution is taken down, as well as a thinner, academic looking journal. "But I found out through…" He sits down again, and looks vaguely uncertain of where to go with that. "Interest." A fluttery smile, and he holds out both books. "This is a book by a geneticist, and a science journal by the same doctor - earlier stuff, more like background reading. When did you find out about what you could do?"

"About ten years ago. Needed to avoid being seen," Jonas answers. "One last question; who else knows about this? Excluding Dr…" He looks at the book, "Suresh." There's a name to look up if possible. Might be able to find out more, should it become necessary.

Jeremy is at a loss there, and another shrug is given. "Sorry, I don't know," he says, apology genuine. "That's kind of why I'm doing what I'm doing, so that there is at least someone to talk to and work through it." He raises an eyebrow. "I mean… if you really did sneak in here, and… not with the conventional kind of sneaky, then I guess you got your power down. But if you need help or anything, I mean, I can do my best."

Jonas nods and rises to his feet. "Alright. Thank you for your time. Your tools are over there," he says, pointing at a pile of needles, scissors and other tailoring tools sat a few feet behind where he was. "Take care," he says politely, before walking, unnoticed, out of the door. On the video footage later, Jonas can be seen quite clearly, though apparently unseen by Jeremy.

Jeremy blinks, and glances over his shoulder towards said tools and sharp things, clearly surprised. "Oh, you put…" Then, he's talking to an empty space, and Jeremy is simply left alone, blinking at the vacated chair in front of him. "Ah."

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