Starring:
Ali and Sophie meet.. and talk of lines and New Yorkers crying, geeks and visions. And saints. George happens through and ends up asking for at least the beginnings of a favor…
February 13, 2008
Lives of the Saints:
Central Park - Strawberry Fields
There's one part of Central Park with a bit of meaning, at least to a certain wandering radio personality. It makes sense, too, when you notice it - it starts with the slab of granite, polished and set among a bed of roses. "IMAGINE." Strawberry Fields is the name of the park section - and if you know where to look, you can still see the doorway, just outside the Park, where Lennon was shot.
But - it's a peaceful place, open and green. Where in warmer days NYU students play Ultimate Frisbee and families have picnics.
On a blanket laid out near that slab is .. well. An Ali. Curled up with a legal pad in her lap and a massive book set nearby (with glasses perched on her nose, in fact) - she seems content to scribble, taking in the vague beginning of spring that at least makes the park not an entirely frozen wasteland.
Just chilly.
Sophie is still pretty new here. She did promise to call, after all. And after she called, it was decided to meet somewhere a bit more public. So, she wandered through this pretty area of the park, until she finds where Ali is sitting. Despite the warmer weather, Sophie is wearing gloves.
As Sophie approaches, the DJ (unnoticing) takes off those glasses, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "Mmph."
The book is dense text - something about "St. Augustine", at least on that page - the pad is filled with a student's careful script. notes.
The murmer's mostly to herself - after all, she's not yet aware of company, it seems, "Dad, you just might have been right. Who knew?"
Sophie does the traditional throat clearing, as she approaches. She pauses, then says, "Umm.. hello." she gives a abashed smile, "Took me a while to find this place. But its really pretty."
First, Ali looks up - and squints. Even at that short range, yes - and, as though /remembering/ the glasses, she unfolds them, puts them on quickly… offering, then, a suddenly bright smile. "hi!"
She pats the blanket, an invitation. "I always thought so. He's a pretty amazing guy - and sort of an inspiration, you know? Kinda my favorite place in the city."
Sophie nods in agreement. "I had an aunt who told me about him, and we'd listen to the music." with a smile. She settles down on the blanket. "So, you had some sort of question?"
"Sort of." Ali reaches down to the book, flips a few pages… then nods, turning it around, tapping one paragraph. Another invitation, of sorts - but the question seemingly has nothing to do with it. "You wanna talk about the two guys that scared the wits out of you in line? Danny and " She rolls her eyes. "Solarfox?"
The passage is in regard to .. a Saint. Saint Padre Pio, died 1942: 'He would hear confessions by the hour, reportedly able to read the consciences of those who held back. He was also reportedly able to bi-locate, levitate, and heal by touch.' There's more, of course, but that's where Ali's finger rests.
"Interesting guy."
Sophie leans in, reading. She pauses, saying, 'My family, we're Orthodox. Most people.. they don't know much about it. I guess saints are kind of interesting.' she looks over, "Those guys? I didn't know their names. But.. I dunno, Solarfox?" she has to break into a brief giggle at that, "They started kind of freaking out."
"Yeah, they did - " Ali's smile remains friendly, if a bit sad. "And you were real quick to throw on gloves, and you looked like you'd been shot at, you know?" She watches the girl. "I guess I just don't like people looking afraid. And maybe I'm just sensitive - if I sound stupid, you can forget about it and not worry, and I won't care. I just.. had a thought."
Sophie doesn't exactly have a good poker face. She nibbles her lower lip, then she tilts her head, hopefully.. "What thought did you have?"
"I figured - maybe. Well. When somebody looks that worried maybe /they/ did something." Ali watches her. "And maybe whatever they did is why they cover up their hands, you know? And maybe they could use an ear of somebody who's not going to think they're crazy. And - hey, maybe it's a stupid thought."
Sophie hesitates, pausing a long moment. Then she takes a breath, looking over with hopeful eyes, "I guess.. I sometimes think I'm crazy for even thinking that its due to me. I mean.. how could I.. anyone make something like that happen?"
"At the risk of sounding like a bad novelist? Saints and sinners." Ali leans back, kicking her feet out straight. "I don't even know what happened - just that I saw two /new york/ guys in tears for no reason. It … sort of pinged my radar, you know? So.. you .. mind me asking what /did/ happen?"
Sophie takes a breath. Yes, it is repetitive. She glances over, saying, "Its hard to describe.. its only been happening a little while. But.. you are sure you won't laugh, or think I'm nuts?"
"Promise. Cross my heart." Ali offers that winning smile, then - "You don't have to trust me, but if you think about it.. I don't even know who you are. I won't even ask, 'less you tell me, ya know?"
She glances at the stone, then back. "But yeah - I don't think you're nuts."
Sophie ohhs, having to chuckle, "I guess I forgot to say. I'm Sophia Petrov. But most call me Sophie." she pauses, taking a breath, "I'm trying to figure it out myself. But.. its like.. I touch people, sometimes, and.. I see.. no. I don't just see. Its like I'm somewhere.. some WHEN else, and something's happening to and around me. But its not me.."
"… huh. Yeah?" Ali blinks, abruptly curious. "Like.. what. Seeing the future? Or.. something? I remember a lady, growing up, who said she could, you know, see things about people from things that were important to them. That sort of thing?"
She's.. interested. Not a laugh in sight.
Sophie shakes her head, "I don't know. I just know its /something/. I feel like I'm living someone else's.. experience. And it gets weirder." she admits, 'I don't know exactly what happens to the other people. But.. from what they say, they.. they must be seeing it too."
"Huh. So.. what happened that night in the line?" Ali reaches up again for her glasses, adjusting them - perhaps a bit self-consciously. "I'm .. look. I gotta be honest with you - I'm not the /right/ person to ask this stuff, but I'm asking 'cause .. well. I should. Somebody should. I'm probably asking everything wrong, you know?"
She grins, then, "So if I sound like I don't know what I'm doing? I kinda don't."
Sophie chuckles, "Like I know? I mean, I still have a hard time thinking this is even possible, you know? Well.. I touched someone.." (well, you) "And I saw.. I /was/ somewhere. I was trying to get someone to not jump, or something like that? Anyway, they touched me, and from what they said, it sounded like they were having the same experience."
"… not. Jump?" Ali pauses and abruptly sits upright. "You touched.. you ran into me. First." One can almost see the gears grinding - and she goes pale. "Yeah." Something about that makes her uncomfortable, her arms going around herself - she pulls her legs in. Curling up a bit. "Sort of .. yeah. Sorry." She even shudders, slightly. "You don't mind if I say I don't really wanna shake your hand right now?" She keeps it light, but - "… Listen." She takes a breath, and starts talking, for a moment.
"I'm gonna tell you something people told me, a while back. You don't have to believe me - but you should. I don't even know how much is true, but - I got a lot I owe." She waves a hand at the park. "There's a lot of people out there. Like you. More than you know, ya know? And.. not /quite/ like you. It's like fingerprints, as best I can figure. No two are the same." She points at Sophie, then - "But you're not a freak. No matter how weird it gets, you're not one. From me to you, though? Keep a low profile. Don't trust anybody - not until you know why they do what they do. The stuff you can do - whatever it is - well. There's people out there that would use it. Use you. And there's some people out there, they tell me, that have nice plastic boxes for people who don't play nice with 'em. You probably don't want to get noticed, you know? Not until you figure out yourself, anyway."
Sophie winces at first, nodding at the 'don't want to shake your hand'. "I don't know if its skin, but that's why I'm wearing gloves." then, at the rest, she pales. "I.. I worried about that. I thought about the X files, and that kind of thing."
McAlister shrugs. "Never met any creepy guys in dark suits - but - I have been handed a really big check and a job offer. Sort of. Kinda." She reaches down to close that book. "Look - there's good people out there. You'll find 'em, too -.. but I know one I can introduce you to. If you want." She pauses. "I hope you like to read."
"But. Yeah. She's really busy - but.. she's not going to point you the wrong way. You want to get a handle on what you think you are? She's the only one worth talking to. That's where it starts - or it started for all the people like you I know. Finding out who you are - and what you can do. you know? And then you get the fun job of figuring out what you're going to do with it."
Sophie nods, little innocent.. not quite abroad, but still away from home that she is. "Yes, I think I want to meet someone.. well, at least as nice as you, that can help me. And.." she has to laugh, "I'm studying to be a librarian. I guess I can handle some reading. I want to really find out what this is. So.. I can at least not use it unless I want to."
"You sound like.. somebody I know." Ali smiles, wryly - "I don't know that I'm all that nice - I have /opinions/, ya know?" A shrug - and she stretches, then - her back pops, elicting a wince. "Ow. I'll talk to her - I need to anyway. Been out of town so long she's probably figuring I'm just ignoring her. She'll… ask a lot of questions, probably."
Sophie nods and she says, relieved, "Thank you. I feel a little better. So.." she has to pause, "I guess its stuff from before, rather than stuff that's going to happen?"
"… I hope so. I mean, 'stopping some chick from jumping' is sort of .. you know. Not really specific. It's not something I.. wanna ever do again, but yeah.. I did it before." That's oddly bitter. Tired. But Ali puts on a smile anyway. "What do /you/ think it is?"
Sophie shakes her head, "I really don't know. They're experiences, but they're not mine. So I really don't have any frame of reference."
"So .. do you just feel? Or do you.. you know. See stuff?" Ali considers. "Seeing stuff would be a lot easier to sort out. There's a lot of stuff that you could pick on to figure out 'when'."
Sophie says, "Its like I'm there.. and doing it, feeling, everything."
The DJ nods - "So next time, you look for clues. A paper, or a calendar or even a TV or something. All you need to know is which direction you're looking, right? It doesn't have to be specific. When you figure that out, maybe it'll get easier to sort out whatever the heck it is you're doing." That's hopeful, regardless.
"I know, it's not much help. I don't get most of this stuff - but it makes sense, anyway." Ali shifts, relaxing a bit, draping her arms around her knees. "You got a place to stay, right?"
Sophie says, "Well, right now.. I'm staying in the dorm rooms. I would love to have somewhere else to stay, but.." she chuckles, "Not a lot of money on me."
"that's something, one way or another. I just kinda worry - sometimes it gets crazy. Things happen.." Ali shrugs. "A roof solves a lot of problems. So let me ask you somethin' - you feel better?"
Sophie takes a breath, then admits, "Some.. I guess. I mean, not so alone, or that I'm crazy."
"You're not crazy. And seriously not alone." Ali gets more serious - "I mean it when I tell you to lay low, though. I.. kinda covered for ya a little bit at the signing. As much as I could, anyway - but I've lost a couple people and heard a lot of stories. I wish I could do more, I /owe/ a lot more, you know? But .. " She smiles, a bit ruefully - and proves she's not a bad liar at all. "I'm not lucky enough to be .. different, you know?"
Sophie nods to that. "Ok, well.. you have my number? So I can talk to that other person?"
In the late afternoon, Ali and Sophie have a blanket near the IMAGINE plinth, the two sitting and talking over books and paper - items the DJ's gathering into a pile, actually. A carriable one. "Yeah - I got your number when you called. I'll hang onto it - look. I can't help much, you know? But if you get into trouble, I might know people who can. Maybe."
Sophie nods, "Well, now that I have SOME idea, I think I will just be very careful not to touch anyone. It might keep me out of trouble."
Timing is everything. George is out for— not a jog, today, but a distracted walk while he deals with a cell phone and notepad. "Budget-neutral," he says to whoever's on the other end. "Make sure that's in the release, it's the easiest thing that sets us apart from the others." He mouths a silent 'hello' as he spots Sophie; Ali, he's approaching from the wrong angle to get a good look at. Yet.
Honestly? The DJ's talking about Serious Things, or it's likely she'd pay more attention to voices nearby. She doesn't, though. Not yet - "That won't work forever. Could be you just need practice trying to turn it off, right? But - you can. You will. Faith's a good thing." The smile's encouraging - the massive, aging copy of "Lives of the Saints" elicits an 'oof' as she shifts it. "Man. I thought I gave up hauling books around after graduation. Goes to show what skills matter - book carrying's gonna be a lifetime talent."
Sophie chuckles, "Hey, I love books. I guess I'll always be hauling a few around." she glances up, past McAlister, nodding toward someone who seems to be approaching, or walking by. 'Hey, remember meeting him.' she offers, sort of gesturing toward George, coming up from behind.
George remembers meeting Sophie, too. A couple of times. And picking up some… interesting hints about the same ability she was just discussing with Ali a minute ago. "Call me back if there's anything else," he says into the phone, hanging it up after a brief pause. Then he starts to say something to Sophie, but finally spots the DJ at the same time. Um. What are you supposed to say first when you haven't seen someone for months?
Ali looks back - and just stops, for a moment.
It's not every day you'll see brash confidence drain out of a Jersey girl, but hey - there it goes. The smile she offers, abruptly, is hopeful without artifice (a rare thing, from her, at the best of times). But! She does remember to play /nonchalant./ "… hey." And she adds, after a moment. "I. Uh. Quit jogging." That remains hopeful, despite the effort put into it to have it /not/ be. Play it cool, right?
Sophie looks between the two. There's confusion, then the sort of eye widening comprehension. She's not sure what it is, exactly, but there's some sort of history. She carefully folds her gloved hands in her lap. No, she doesn't want to /know/ what that history was, and likely not wanting to.. there's really no verb tense that fits here, but experience it?
George bites his lip, quickly stashing the phone and notepad into separate pockets, which offers the side benefit of keeping his hands from just flailing around randomly. "I kind of figured. Good to see you again— I didn't know when you were making it back." Unspoken subtext: if. He glances over at Sophie again, but one awkward line of communication is challenging enough without trying to double up right away.
"Well, California sucked. Too much sun." Ali moves to stand - with a muffled 'oof'. "The work was good, though - but you know what? I don't do well around rich people and endless beaches. I don't tan - you have no idea how painful /that/ was to learn." Where George goes for spartan conversation, Ali just throws hers out there. Filling the air means no awkward silences, right?
She grins, though. "You look good. You know Sophia?" Look! Other people! The not quite vocalized bit may be something like 'please don't kill me in front of company'.
Sophie just gives a sort of waggle of her fingers. She grins abashedly. "Yes, we kind of met, I guess. Or I saw him once or twice."
George eases up some as he follows along, wincing at Ali's implication of beet-red-ness. "Nice to be properly introduced, though," he says, offering a polite hand to Sophie. If only he'd picked up on the trigger for her previous weird behavior…
Ali takes a step back. "Yeah? Well, George, Sophia - Sophia, George Dawson. He's a really nice guy - hard to find those in the Big Apple, you know?" She offers, to George - "I just got back a couple of days ago - and there was this signing, and .. I just hadn't had a chance to call you, right? How ya been?"
Sophie actually is about to reach for the hand, then she draws back. Quickly. She glances to her own hands, and remembering the gloves, she cautiously takes George's, shaking it.
While the hesitation is noticed, it's less overtly weird than how George has seen Sophie behave in public before, so he just shrugs it off. "I've been good," he replies to Ali, meanwhile. "Keeping busy myself— my boss is pushing for this big health-care package, so we've all been pretty swamped." This is slightly false - in fact, he initiated the push himself, based on a truly strange claim made by the senator's wife - but concealing that tidbit gets a little easier each time he does it.
"Yeah? You're still working for Petrelli, right?" Ali grins, brightly. … and leans down to pick up that book, the legal pad filled with notes. "I always sort of envied you that - you know. doing something that mattered."
Sophie lets the two talk, for now. She tilts her head, Petrelli?" she asks, though. She takes a moment to think, not being the political type, then blinks, 'You mean the Senator?"
George nods. "That's right," he replies, covering both questions at once. "Actually— Ali, when do you have some free time? I was just thinking the other day that there was this thing you could help me out with." This statement, in contrast, is entirely true - and entirely unpracticed. He's positively brimming with nervous energy.
And /this/ is easier ground. See, there was no yelling.
Ali uhs - "Well, it depends. But uh. Anytime tomorrow? I'm on the air after eleven, and if you wake me up before noon I'm cranky." She pauses. "Your clothes are gonna be on, right?"
Sophie was going to open her mouth. But at Ali's final question, it snaps shut again.
Turns out George's face can get pretty red, too, given the right stimulus. "Um. Yes, they will be." Beat. "Unless, y'know, you want—" He's not serious, though. The unnamed thing really is that important.
She flashes him a friendly grin. "we'll talk. But. Uh. Sure. No clue what we're gonna stand around and talk about? See, now I'm curious. Really curious." Ali adds, aside, to Sophie - "I /had/ to ask, you know?"
Sophie blushes a little, but she tries to hide a laugh, "I suppose so, if it was likely…"
George walks closer to Ali and, in an aside of his own, leans in to murmur something in her ear. "Anyway," he explains after straightening up again, and without missing a beat, "it's to do with Nathan— kind of complicated, easier to show instead of telling, you know?" (Another lie; he just doesn't want to risk anyone else overhearing. Probably an unnecessary precaution, but it's the mindset he's been in lately.)
Ali flushes in turn - but. Again. Jersey girl. That nets George a slug in the shoulder (not that she's all that good at slugging anybody in the shoulder, but that's not the point) and a grin. "Right. But.. okay, sure. I voted for him too, you know?" She shrugs. "But I'm gonna whine about it until you tell me. So - what. We meet up for coffee or something?" No. The blush hasn't faded, yet.
Sophie looks between the two again. She prepares to get up, "I can head out. You have my number." to Ali, and nodding to George. Well, this does seem kind of private talk, "And I'm sure I'll be talking to you again."
George inclines his head to Sophie. "I'm sure we will. It's a small city." It is, if you count how often the same people tend to run into each other. "Let me buy you dinner?" he adds, glancing sidelong at McAlister. Hopefully it'll make up for whatever he just got punched for.
"Carry my books?" Ali gives him a sarcastically artless grin - and offers him the stack. "And you got a deal." But she eyes Sophie. "Think about what I said, huh?"
Sophie nods with a sigh, 'I guess I have a LOT to think about.' she pauses, 'Well, I thought of something, but I'll bring it up later.' glancing toward George.
George sighs. "The things I let myself get talked into," he murmurs, waving to Sophie before taking the stack. As an afterthought, he takes one of the lighter ones off the top and hands it back to Ali. "Any preferences? I've been living off of McDonald's lately, so I'm not picky."
"Nope, I'm easy." Ali nods to Sophie - "You can always call - " She takes that book, but leans down to gather blanket. "I'd handle a good ol' New York street dog. It's good enough - " And back to Sophie - "I'll talk to her for you. I promise."
George makes with some small talk for just long enough to walk with Ali to a less crowded area. Then, lowering his voice so it won't carry any further than needed: "Are you familiar with MPD?"
"… should I be?" Ali blinks - glancing up at him. "If you want, you can pretty much pretend I don't know anything. Makes things easier, right?" She flashes him a rather wry smile.
Almost imperceptibly, George draws closer. That's been missing from his life for a while; there have been plenty of other smiles, but none of them were quite that one. "Multiple personality disorder," he murmurs. "Something like schizophrenia, only not— or something like that. Anyway, the point is… if someone had another personality trying to take over, a hostile one… do you think you'd be able to force it back under the surface?"
"…. I." Ali blinks… and stares at him a moment. But.. it's not an empty stare. It's easy to forget that she's not stupid, this one - the gears grind a moment.
"Abnormal psych - I remember. Yeah. Really rare, isn't it? Something fragments the brain, and it makes like - another personality to deal with it. Or that's what they said anyway - it's about all I remember." She frowns. "I don't know. Maybe? I.. haven't thought about … I mean. You're talking about .. " Her eyes narrow. "I could try. But. I.. really wouldn't know where to start. I'd have to think about it."
George purses his lips. "Yeah, I only vaguely know anything about this myself. There's supposed to be someone else who can help, but I guess there's been a delay reaching them, too. Anyway—" He stops, turning to face Ali directly. "I'm not bringing this up lightly. It'd be dangerous. But as far as I can see, it's either them, or you… or else a really difficult public process, which - even if it worked - would probably destroy a good person's career in the process. So… I'll keep you posted, all right?"
You're serious. I'll.. start reading." Ali looks down - at the slim volume in her hands. "You know - it's not a little thing, right? I mean - you're talking about messing up /how/ somebody thinks - even if it's broken. Can you imagine if .. I said the wrong thing? If you ask, I'll try - but. Just. Be sure you're /really/ sure, you know?" She tries on that smile again.
"Screw it. I trust you - lemme read up. At least try to figure out /something/. Kinda the first time I might be useful anyway, right?"
"I'm told the other personality picked out a different name for itself", George explains, still carefully concealing even such a simple detail as the target's gender. Not that he doesn't trust Ali— and not that it would really fool any spy ears that could be listening in; it just seems like the natural thing to do. "So if you start with that, then the real person can't get hurt. I hope."
Then, taking a step closer, he brushes a hand against Ali's cheek. "And hey, no getting down on yourself like that, all right? You put people in a better mood, just doing what you're doing. Don't dismiss how important that is."
She brightens at the touch, looking up at George. "Yeah? Well, I don't keep a senator on track." Ali points out - wry and amused. "A shi tzu puts people in a better mood." She takes a deep breath. "You still treating to a hot dog?"
George nods, continuing on his way down the block. "Absolutely! You like jalapenos? There's this guy down the way— does diced onions, too. Just don't get both unless you know you can live through it."
