2009-11-20: The Rave's The Thing



Date: November 20, 2009


Still riding her post-Peter high, Lena invites Eric to a rave to get a few questions answered without having to interrupt her party time. He cooperates. Mostly.

"The Rave's The Thing"

Warehouse C

About an hour ago, a text came through on Eric's phone. The message was short and sweet, from an unfamiliar number: Want 2 talk 2 u. Warehouse C, Broolyn Bridge, after midnight. - Hoodie Girl

If he'd called the number back, holding the phone to his ear would earn the man a headache. A pulsing bass beat drowns out any attempt at communication, although he might be able to hear Lena yelling through the noise, "Get here if you want to talk to me, gotta go, dancing!"

Yeah. It's going to be that kind of night.

The docks themselves are damp, dark and unpleasant but it's easy enough to find the right place: just follow the kids tricked out in day-glo body paint and glow-stick jewelry. Inside the warehouse is another matter. Sensory overload is the rule of the night, with lights spinning around on all sides, video screen erected flashing what look to be (with sober eyes) random patterns of light and color, and a stage upon which a DJ is spinning his magic. The place is packed with what look to be hundreds of celebrants, all bouncing and writhing to the techno mix pouring from massed speakers. A bar is barely visible, lining the left side of the place; kids are standing four deep to wait to order water or something harder if they aren't partaking of the night's drug of choice.

Just how in the hell did she expect Eric to find her in this mess?

Possibily the fact that of all the places in the world…a Warehouse Rave is the last place one would expect to find Eric Lancaster.

The young man stared at the message after he got it with one twitching eyebrow. Oh he did try to call back, and that message earned a long hard stare at the phone as he replaced it into his pocket. He should have just let Gene taser her, that would have saved him a headache that would have. A dance? A party? A rave even? He hasn't been to one since his big sister dragged him to one sometime in his teenage years. However he decided to man up and go instead of blowing it off. So a quick message was left for Bert and Gene and Elena and then the millionare decided to start to make his way there.

By motorcycle. A sleek black thing that was a concept bike that he liked the look of. Wearing black on black as well, his outfit drab and dark among all the bright and day-glo he pulls the helment off of his head before shaking out his hair for a moment and setting the item on his knee he pulls out his cellpone and sends a test message back towards the number it came from.


That all he says as he stares at the throbbing mix of people and just shakes his head slightly.

It takes a few minutes but eventually one figure emerges from the crowd pushing into the mix of light, sound and sweating bodies. Lena, looking like a bedraggled refugee from a Britney Spears video, throat and wrists circled with glowing pink bands. Looking happy, happier than even Tiago might remember seeing her, as she skips lightly across the puddle-strewn parking lot outside of the warehouse. It's night and day from Battery Park, and the shrieking harpy who'd shouted down Vader.

"Hey! Oh my god, you came! I wasn't sure you would, you know? Cmon, what are you doing out here? Jesus, that's a nice bike." The euphoric babble is cut short, much as her skipping is, when she gets near enough to admire Eric's ride. At this distance, her face washed out by the harsh industrial lights of the park, it would be easy to see how the black of her pupils has almost swallowed the summer blue of each iris. Lena reaches out to touch one chrome handlebar. "Ooh."

"Well I did say I wanted to talk, I figured this would be the best way to show you I ment it," Eric replies as he steps off the bike with a smirk towards her. "Thanks, just something I picked up while I was out of town." He adds with a shrug of his shoulders and a slight grin on his face as he settles the helment on the handlebars. Then he thinks better of it and just picks it up in one gloved hand and tucks it under his arm.

Black and silver biker jacket, black jeans, black gloves. The young man seems to like the color as he glances up at the lights and shakes his head slightly before turning his head towards what looks like the very drugged out woman that he had come to meet. "I was just waiting for her is all." He adds with a flash of a smile towards her. "Now, where did you want to talk? Not in there I hope, since I can feel the music out here."

Is he talking? Because Lena is currently engaging in trailing her hand over the sleek plastic curves of the bike's windshield and nose. "It's so…cool, god. Like, I could lay on it and just be this cool. Ooh, raindrop!" And then the teenager giggles.

Poor Eric.

When she finally does look up at him again, eyes gone unfocused and dreamy, the smile he's offered is pure sugar. "Are you kidding? Inside is it. No one's gonna overhear us. I get my own corner, there's a couch and everything. You're…" Lena finally seems to get a decent look at him. The bridge of her nose crinkles. "God, you look like a cop. Oh well! You'll be fine with me, and black makes your hair look amazing. Cmon!" She's beckons to the man before turning to begin hopping over the puddles that separate bike from warehouse.

"…oh this is going to be fun. Yeah…" Eric is at the moment contemplating blasting Lena with a taser right there and throwing her over the back of the bike to take her home with him and talk. Hell, the way she's acting at the moment she might like getting tased. Who knows. The idea is tempting, really tempting before he shakes his head slightly. No…no that the way of the bad guys. He's suposed to be one of the good guys. Think like Cap. Not like the Punisher.

However as she turns to go back inside he just quirks an eyebrow then shakes his head. "Sorry to ruin the party, but if you want to talk I'd like some other and more quiet place to talk. Parties aren't really my thing, and I don't really feel like talking about some of this stuff in public. Even in distracted public." He adds towards her with a flash of a grin, not moving from his bike at the moment.

"And cops don't have bikes this nice." Eric quips after a moment.

It takes a moment for Lena to realize that she isn't being followed. Oh, and that he might have said something again, but the music is close enough to feel, man. She's practically dancing over those puddles before thinking to look back…to see that Eric is being a party pooper.

But that's not going to wreck her first high in three years! Oh no!

Her re-entry into orbit this time is a slower thing. Each foot set just so, head cocked coyly. The devil's in her grin. "Are you trying to get me alone? That's it, isn't it? Cmon…Eric, right? You just need to relax. Enjoy yourself a little," she observes, circling around the bike. Like a shark. Each pass bringing her closer. "Did you know that I've been clean for three years? Three years. And then I met someone today…but he's like me. He fixed it. Three years of making other people happy, and you're gonna take this one chance away from me?" One hand extends, fingertips threatening to brush the leather covering his shoulder. "Or…we could stay out here, and you can be a jerk."

Now that sharpens the millionare's gaze for just a moment. Sharp and dark as he fixes the woman with a slow and calculating stare. Now. What logic says he should do is just what he is doing. Stay out here. Be the jerk. However Eric Lancaster is different from the rest of his family in the fact that he really is a nice guy. Even if it gets him in trouble on more than one occasion.

…like now. Case in point.

"If anyone steals my ride I'm taking it out of my goodwill for you." He mutters as he slowly pushes himself away from the bike. At the threat of the touch though he doesn't shy away or leap backwards in fright. It's just a slight shake of his head. "I'd rather have a clear head tonight." He says wryly towards her as he looks down at the hand before waving her forwards. "Lead on, though I have no idea how you are actually going to be able to /listen/ to me."

He's rewarded with a brilliant smile, better suited to magazine covers than the face of a street punk rolling out of her mind. "I wasn't going to dose you," Lena promises as she dances back to give the man room to dismount. "You need to be able to think to answer my questions. I promise no one will touch your bike, it's all about love tonight! And it's not that bad in my corner! Cmon!"

It's trusted that he will follow this time, so the teenager dances ahead. Literally. Lena does slow upon reaching the doorway, waiting for Eric to catch up and reaching to hook her hand through his elbow; it's protected by the jacket, so she has no qualms about attempting that contact. It's the one way to insure that he's not lost in the packed masses of revelers. As promised, she does tug the young man towards the corner furthest from the DJ and the banks of speakers, where it's (a little) quieter. There's a ring of couches set up, all but one occupied by limp, tangled bodies. Several people are dancing glow-sticks in front of the glazed eyes of those reclining, or dragging their nails down shivering arms, sweaty backs. No one looks up at the odd couple as Lena guides Eric to the empty couch.

"Okay! So are you and your friends the good guys?" The question is delivered with a grin.

Eric doesn't like this. The way his eyes dart around the place, blinking at the bright lights and the throbbing beat. Lights have never been his friend and the urge to black them out for just a moment he almost gives into. This isn't the time or the place for that though and he shakes the notion out of his mind as he is tugged along in the wake of the very high teenager. The couches make him even more uncomfortable, but for entirely different reasons as he watches the others reclining there before shaking his head and turning his attention to the girl next to him as he sits down.

His helmet goes on the floor, a single dark spot among all of the lights. "Something like that, the guys that aren't trying to track down and round up people because they are different." He replies after a moment.

Lena, on the other hand, is in her element. She can't help from moving, bobbing her head to the music even as she swivels to face the man and arranges herself in a cross-legged position. With clasped hands in her lap to hold the hem of her skirt down, she could pass as prim. Almost. It's hard to focus when her eyes want to keep wandering off after a strobelight. "Mmm…I kinda felt pretty dumb about freaking out on you guys, yeah. I don't think those assholes go for costume parties," she confesses, not sounding very apologetic. "Vader said ya'll help? 'Cause I think my guy and me, we've got someone after us. Maybe a couple of someones. It's why I had to go blonde."

The reminder of the color of her hair causes Lena to reach up and rake her fingers through the wild waves, which only serves to distract. "I think…I think I can feel the color, jesus…this is so good…"

"…I assume that you met someone that could turn your natural immunity off," Eric says with a shake of his head as he settles back on the couch. Trying visibily to relax as he knows he sticks out here like a sore thumb. This really just isn't his scene though, not at all. Computer lab? Machine shop? Dojo? Board meeting? He's good all of those places. Here? No not so much here. "…well we were just trying to help, but thanks for the apology." He says with a shrug. "I admit Vader could have done it better, but he's not much of a people person you know."

A sigh as he turns his attention back towards the woman before he shakes his head. "You and your guy? Right who do you think is after you?" He asks before he just winces as she gets distracted again. Geeze. This might take a bit of time.

"Mm, yeah. He's my new best friend, I swear to god." Lena eventually finishes rubbing her scalp and coming her fingers through her hair. When she does, and her eyes open again, they are blissful and almost entirely black. Eric is studied through that foggy haze of pleasure; there might be a warning in the flicker of thoughtfulness that shows in her expression. But it's a brief warning before the girl's moving on the resulting impulse.

She pushes herself up, swinging her leg over both of his in a dancer's movement to land herself in Eric's lap, facing him. Then, taking care to avoid contact, Lena dips in to place lips near ear. As if he needed more reasons to feel uncomfortable. "Relax, okay? I won't touch you." Pause, while a breath is taken. Then she murmurs, under the music, "One guy, named Joel…he threatened us. Said if I used what I can do, it'd threaten the world and I'd get a house call. And some congressman's girlfriend tracked us down, found our place even though we're careful. She knew what I can do, maybe told him, and he knows about people like me. All about us…but he isn't one himself. So we're running."

Now in another life, in another time. Eric would have just about fainted dead away, or been reduced to a starting and stuttering wreck, or stood up and bolted by now. However he's had a bit to get used to things and as she suddenly moves against him his eyes widen slightly and he tences up. However he doesn't faint or nosebleed, at least thats a good thing. After a deep breath though he shakes his head slightly before smirking up towards the teen.

"Warn a body before you do that," He replies in a soft whisper that is directed right back into her ear as one arm goes around her waist as he rests a hand lightly on the small of her back. Easy enough to break out of, but at least it'll keep her in place without falling over.

"Joel…no last name or anything?" He asks as he frowns slightly towards the woman. Thats not good, its not in the name list he found so it might be a new player…or just a wacko out to take down Evolved. Neither are good things.

"…A congressman?" Now his voice gets sharper but not louder, trying to force himself to relax and /try/ to look like he knows what he's doing. "Not Ivory Wynn is it?" He asks with a frown. "Its the Government that I'm worried about."

"What? I'm trying to help you blend in," Lena replies, the innocence of her whispered tone at odds with the tremble of laughter. Resting her forearms on his shoulders, and her hands against the back of the couch, she settles comfortably in her new seat. "You might wanna put your hands on the couch though, man. It's hot in here, and things get a little crazy when I start sweating, you know? Unless you wanna go dancing after this…" The blonde trails off again, having to close her eyes for a moment. The euphoria and the lights make it too difficult to concentrate, and Eric is asking serious questions. He'll have to wait for answers until a few deep breaths are taken.

"Mm…okay. Um. No last name, no. He's…like me, I guess. Can move things with his mind. Tried to get me to admit what I can do, in public, then gave Chi the warning." Lena shakes her head as she considers the second matter. "No, not Ivory. George…the guy in the magazines, with that rich chick, Hallis. She found us. Said he knew everything. We…I…it sounded like he was one of them. The ones doing this, you know? The trains…"

Nothing ruins a good high like the prospect of ending up on a cattle car, heading to an appointment with a lab and brain-jars. The teen sits back abruptly and passes a hand over her face, shivering with a rush of goosebumps. "Jesus, I'm fucked up. You gotta…you guys gotta help us. We're hiding, we don't know what to do next except maybe hop to Mexico."

"Yeah and you are enjoying every moment of it," Eric accuses though he can't help but shake his head as his own amusement bleeds into his words and the look on his eyes. "And I've noticed they get a little crazy when you start swetting. I touched that hoodie of yours and it was like getting hit with every party drug known to man at once." A pause. "I can get it back to you if you want though, Vader didn't hurt it." He adds with a smirk towards her.

"No last name…that makes things harder. Did he say anything else besides that?" He asks as he sits there, though he doesn't move his hands away. At least not yet. "…and as for being one of them, I think he might have been trying to scare you. I'll look into him being involved though." A pause. "Wait…Hallis is the spy you were talking about?" Pause. "She's not a spy, at all." A shake of his head as he relaxes slightly.

"Yes…you are fucked up just a bit," Eric agrees before he hrmms a moment and nods. "Easy though, easy. We'll do what we can to help though it'll take a bit of time to get things set up. We can help hop to Mexico or somewhere else if you want."

"Wait!" Lena is distracted from rubbing the chill away from her arms by a flash of inspiration. "I remember! He totally gave us a card! It's got the Joel guy's name on it, and his company! Securitech? Something like that." Her whole face lights up and she bops the man in the shoulder. Gently. It's a friendly gesture, meant in the spirit 'ha! lookit what I did!'. "Chi's got it though 'cause he always has pockets and I don't, dressed like this," she adds, looking down at her attire with a return of the crinkled nose. "Stupid fucking Hallis and her goddamn government boyfriend…huh? My hoodie? Hell yeah, I want that back, it's my favorite…you, uh, got high off my hoodie?"

Eric earns quirky eyebrows for that admission. She's a little behind on current events.

"That's what I do, y'know. I make drugs." It's a proud admission. "I'm even learning how to make more, like, I could knock someone out right now and they wouldn't wake up for hours. But I don't wanna go to Mexico or Brazil, that was Chi's idea. I'm tired of running. But he's scared, 'cause I mean…how do you fight the government? And he's not like me."

"…hrmmm, well you have my card. Either send me the information on email, or mail it to me or something. If you can get it to me then me and my friends can start working on who he is and what he represents." Securitech? Who the heck are they? Another Anti-Evolved corp? Lovely. Really really lovely. "…and yes. I got high off your hoodie, so did Sydney actually. I guess…she got it from Hallis…" That would make sence at least. Lets not talk about Sydney and that night and the hoodie because it makes him blush just ever so slightly before he shakes his head to get rid of it.

"Useful power, though…can you turn it on or off at will?" He asks curiously before he frowns slightly at her next words. "Well…for now the best you can do is hide. If you don't want to run…well maybe there is something you can do. I'll set you up with an escape plan though just in case."

The dancing light makes it difficult to detect a blush, and Lena's in no condition to be especially discerning, but she does tilt her head while she watches the guy she's sitting on. Does she suspect? It's difficult to say. "Huh…that's weird. You…um. Maybe wanna take your hand away then," she remarks, reaching around her own back to pluck at the sleeve of his jacket. "'Cause I can't turn it off and if you get enough of a dose…you get hooked, man. The withdrawal's a bitch." See? She can be altruistic. It helps that her mood has been somewhat dampened by thoughts of Mexico. "How do you mean, escape plan?"

"Odd," Eric replies as he pulls his sleeve away. "There wasn't a withdrawl effect with the hoodie…I guess thats because it was something different." Not direct from the source. Even so he makes the note to wash everything he has on THROUGHLY before doing anything else tonight. "Can't turn it off, but immune to your own power then." He mutters before he shakes his head, science is something to ponder later and not quite right now. "Just in case someone does come after you, a plan to get away and back into hiding is all."

Lena favors him with a small smile. "Nah, see, withdrawal only happens after you're addicted. Vader got to see a little of that the other day…couple of guys that we sell to, you know? We had to cut back on our business so folks are getting antsy. Until you're hooked, it's the best ride of your life." The teen's head tilts then, her eyes hooding as the lights pick up the pace of their dancing to match a new song. Her arms are folded, pressed against Eric's chest to support her weight while suffering a temporary enthrallment. "God…okay. Um. I gotta go soon, 'cause this is…yeah. But…I think you're good people. You and the others, even if you are weird. I did dig the costumes."

A short, steadying breath is taken and Lena's eyes shift back towards him. The smile's still there, but there's a brief moment of solemn clarity to balance the high. "You think maybe Vader's too pissed to see us again, in a couple of days? Or you could maybe apologize for me."

"Try to cut back some more actually…the less people can trace you the better," Eric suggests with a nod of his head before he nods once towards her. "Loose my card if you can, but you know how to get ahold of me now if you need it." He adds before he laughs. "Well yeah, we are good people. If huge dorks, glad you dig the costumes. We'll bring one for you next time." He adds with a flash of a grin towards her.

"Go on though, enjoy the party. Get ahold of me with the information on this Joel guy if you want…and I'll tell Vader. He's just had a really rough couple of months is all. He'll get over it." He says with a nod. "I'll apologize for you."

Her impulse control has been shot, so Lena's response is bundled up in one action: she leans forward and wraps her arms loosely around the man's neck (to avoid skin contact) in a brief but enthusiastic hug. "You're fucking awesome, guy. Thank you! God, I feel so much better about all of this! Finally folks who can really help, not just run us around with spy versus spy bullshit!"

Then she's slipping from his lap in a mad, energetic scramble. Leaving him there without a farewell, or even a wave. The music is calling, the lights and colors.

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