2007-05-07: Tornados, Earthquakes, Paintings, Plans, And... Bugs?!


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Summary: Jane, Elle and Peter discuss recent events, prophetic art, things Elle is planning, and a revelation about a certain bookstore.

Date It Happened: May 7th, 2007

Tornados, Earthquakes, Paintings, Plans, And… Bugs?!

The Forrest- Bishop Apartment in the High Rise Building at Greenwich Village, Manhattan, NYC

Time has marched along since Elle's bedroom door was cooked, and in that time Jane's been going about the business of life. Sessions at the studio, practices with her band, stretches spent playing on the streets at various locations. Through it all the things she saw in Times Square and on the pier well before that have flashed in and out of her mind's eye. They mix with statements made by a whole range of people. Elena commenting about paintings she was supposed to explain about but hasn't, Pete commenting on issues, and Elle herself mentioning threats that existed.

As Doctor Forrest returns home that evening, around 7:30 p. m., indulging her curiosity and finding out what she can are on the agenda. Her key goes into the lock, opens the door, and she enters. Takeout food from a nearby restaurant is in hand. She places this on the kitchen table and enters the main room to set down her guitar case and backpack.

Elle is in the apartment as Jane enters. T-shirt, shorts, barefoot. Cleaning up, apparently the destruction from her apartment. And -whistling-. Someone is in as good a mood today as they were a bad one yesterday.

"Hey," Jane greets as she passes back through in those boots she tends to wear. Jeans are in use again rather than the skirts with temperatures back in the 60s lately. "I brought food with me, it's on the table. You hungry?" After depositing her gear she walks back into the kitchen, intending to have something to drink and start eating.

Elle smiles. "Love to eat something. Cleaning up is hard work. I called people; the window's fixed, the door will be tomorrow." she says and moves over towards Jane. "So how are -you-?"

"I'm good," she answers quietly. Talk of repairs draws a nod of acknowledgment; she knows what happened and doesn't much mean to have Elle dwell on it. "I had a bit of adventure two nights ago in Times Square, around 9:30, while I was out hoping to make it to a guitar store before closing. What I saw, well, it was definitely something that doesn't happen every day." Styrofoam boxes of food are pulled out of the bag and she goes for a glass, then a bottle of Pepsi-Cola in the fridge.
Elle nods. "What did you see? And we should definitely talk." She moves over to the kitchen with Jane. "Can I have a Diet Pepsi, please?"

Along with her bottle of choice, out comes the diet version, and a second glass from the cabinet nearby. Her foot presses the cooler door closed; turning around Jane sets the items on the table. "It was a tornado. And after that, there was an earthquake of sorts." She fills a glass for herself, then sits in front of one of those food boxes.

Elle frowns. "I remember hearing something about that. Probably someone with an ability…or combination of. Yeesh." She shakes her head. "I swear, overtime is on my plate." She generally doesn't talk too much about her work. She taps the food boxes. "What do we have?"

"Steak and shrimp," Jane replies regarding the food, and continues on as she opens one to show the contents. "I'd have to say they were abilities myself too. I remember the wind from the pier, how could I not, with being sore like I was afterwards from helping pull people out of the water? A rhetorical question, that, she doesn't wait for an answer. "So I paid attention to people in the area. Some of them were in both places. A Filipina who looked about nineteen, and a younger Filipina, and a big guy. In a suit."

Elle frowns. "Some of that sounds a little too familiar." She reaches to a pocket for her cell phone, which isn't there…it's in her room. "Oh, screw it. I'll call later. If she's screwing around with field work, I'm going to string her up by her hair."

"They might be related," Jane states. The mention of field work doesn't seem to surprise her, in fact she adds "I don't think there was any field work going on. I'd been knocked over by a clumsy businessman, when I got up and collected myself the tornado started. I saw the younger Filipina being put in a hold by the big guy, and soon the tornado vanished. Then the ground started to shake."

Elle sighs a little. "Thanks for the info, Jane." A wry grin. "At this rate, we'll have to put you on the payroll. Oh, it's a good day."

"So it's not just circumstantial, then, the younger one was the tornado maker, the big guy used the hold to make her sleep so it would stop, and the older one makes the ground shake." Calm statements, not questions, those. "You're welcome." Jane moves to take a bite of her food.

Elle smiles wryly. "I didn't say that. But, thank you for bringing home dinner." she says, looking back to Jane. "And thanks for being there the other night."
It's what can be called a silent understanding in Jane's mind, this exchange. She didn't hide having heard one or more of them was a Company agent by not showing any surprise at the mention of field work, indeed she used those words herself in saying she didn't think it was so. And Elle made that mention. Neither of them need to say any more about it. Danger reported, knowledge gained, no names named. The topic is switched without resistance. "You're welcome on both counts. Good to see you feeling better."

Elle nods. "It was a good day. That bitch Jessica is out of my hair. Which is a wonderful thing."

She also is who she is, and this is again that name has been mentioned, one connected to the damage in their apartment from the electrical malfunction on legs. Curiosity takes hold, prompting Jane to ask a question between bites when her mouth is empty. "Who's Jessica?" She would ask how Elle got set off, but she was wet, experience provides that answer.

Elle replies "Jessica Sanders. Also known as Niki Sanders. She's an Evolved who also happens to be an MPD. Superstrong. She's the one who killed Peter in the bookstore the other night." Talkative blonde tonight.

She stops, with fork being lifted and about to enjoy more food, her eyes widening. "Killed?" Jane's hand lowers, she watches Elle quietly. "In the bookstore." Her jaw sets for a moment. Stories of people around her being harmed, no matter how resilient they are, aren't taken lightly. "Why would she want to do that?" Knuckles whiten on the table where she grips it.

Elle considers how to answer that. "Because Jessica is a sociopathic sadist." Smiles a little at that. "Sound familiar? Anyhow, she apparently wanted to steal the Isaac Mendez painting that the bookstore had." Elle is Exposition Lass tonight.

She's still on edge, listening to the answers. Jane's reply starts with a slow nod as the mental wheels turn behind her eyes. "I've heard paintings mentioned before," she supplies.

Elle nods a little, and takes a bite of her steak. "Sometimes I forget you come into this more from the periphery…and you've had your memory blanked once. It's hard to keep track of what you know." she says, wryly.

She takes some moments to compose herself after the mention of memories, her knuckles finally relax and get color back in them as the fork is lifted again. "It seems I'm occasionally re-learning things I once knew. I don't know if I knew about these paintings before, but I might have. People around me haven't always been the most willing to fill in my blanks." Her eyes darken, along with the facial expression. "Can you tell me about Isaac Mendez and his paintings, or are they classified?"

Elle thinks about it. "I can always tell you anyway." she says. "Isaac Mendez was an Evolved man who had the ability to paint paintings that depict the future. These paintings are obviously incredibly useful and sought after, and one of the things the Company uses to guide its actions."

"I'm starting to add that up," Jane quietly states. "Some time back there was a quarantine at a hospital, some concern over a virus, and it was said to me it might've fit one of those paintings. I take that to mean one of them has something about a virus. Is there any connection to that and Adam Monroe?" She's thinking back, calling up things said to her. Elle mentioning apocalypsi when recruiting her, Elena mentioning the paintings and the viral connection, Elle again talking about Adam and why he was locked up…

Elle replies "It certainly might? Matters that directly involve Adam or the Mendez Paintings are usually handled by the Company's leadership." An apologetic smile. "I'm just a field agent."

"So it wouldn't be a good idea, trying to find and meet Isaac," Jane muses. "I've just… got so many questions. Before… your memories were altered, you told me there were troubles brewing, that's what the alliance was to be about. Teaming up to tackle them. Sylar, and other things." The fork is lifted, more food enters her mouth and is carefully chewed.

Elle replies "Unfortunately, Isaac Mendez is dead. It's one of the reasons Peter's so important…he copied Isaac's ability before he died. That leaves him as our only known source of intelligence on what's to come. And Sylar certainly -does- need dealing with." A sigh.

"It's a cornerstone of democratic societies," Jane says quietly, "that when needed, all citizens have the responsibility to serve. Nations keep a professional core trained and on duty, when needed they bring others in to expand their ranks and be trained by the pros. When the crisis ends they shrink back to normal size. Whatever's coming seems to fit this model, after a fashion. Viruses, quarantines, prophetic art… What should I be watching out for?"

Elle smiles. "I'm glad. You're one of the few people out there who doesn't seem to think that the Company is Evil Inc. Any of Adam or Sylar's activities could be dangerous. I need to get that list from the bookstore."

"It's not Angel Corporation either. It has power, and power unchecked corrupts. If I think something is wrong, I'll say so." Jane lifts and has a drink from the glass. "Police are the same way. We need them, but we also watch them." Her hand settles on the fork to lift it again as she asks "What are your plans for that list?"

Elle explains "Everyone on that list is a potential target of Sylar. If we have the list, we can put those people under protective surveillance."

The answer is given silent contemplation as she takes in the food and chews it slowly, then drinks from the glass. Eventually, when her mouth is empty again, Jane replies "I don't know if a list exists or not. I've not seen it. Either way, it's apparently no secret people with abilities have ties to the bookstore. I won't give up any names of people I've met, they put trust in me knowing about them. But I'll pass the word. Maybe they'll agree, maybe not. Some, if not most, will fear memory holes and getting those marks." She rubs the back of her neck.

The blonde looks exasperated. "And by us not knowing, we can't protect them. I understand the whole paranoia thing. But -we're- not trying to kill them. Sylar is."
"I know that, and you know that," Jane replies. "It just is what it is. I gave my word, and I won't break that. If I did, then you yourself couldn't ever really trust me or anything I say, believe I'd stick by things I gave my word to you on. If I break it once, it'll always be in doubt." A few seconds later, she finishes her food and sits back, fingers curling around the soda glass.

Elle frowns. "I trust you to do what's -right-. Isn't that the important thing here? Would you rather they have their trust safe and their bodies dead, or the other way around?"

Minefield. In Jane world, her word is important, and not just because she earned a law degree and had the whole client confidentiality thing drummed into her head as part of it. Maybe not a minefield, more walking the high wire with no net to catch her if she steps wrong. "I've done both. The people I know who could be targets have been told Sylar exists, they've seen photos of him and know he's deadly. They've been told to leave the area without drawing attention to themselves if he's seen and to call the police. Not to engage with him in any way." Her eyes close for a moment, she rubs them lightly. "If I give them up, they'll keep other people from becoming known to me, and we won't be able to share anything with or learn from them." Meanwhile, inwardly, she's hoping the Company isn't already watching her and cataloging everybody they see her associate with for this very reason, and partly expecting they already are, given that she didn't know Claudine was an agent and she spoke with her twice since mid-March.

Elle hears the knocking at the door. "I'll get it." Because the electroblonde can handle surprises better. She pads out to the living room, checking the peephole and then opening the door.

Peter stands at the door, dressed in relatively normal and bloodless clothes (for him that's a good thing) and offering a sheepish smile. A carrier bag hangs over his shoulder. "Hi. Sorry to stop by without calling first."

Sitting at the table when Elle goes to the door, Jane takes a long drink of her soda and stares at the wall. Practicality and the need to keep confidentialities war within her mind. An idea soon forms, a way to possibly resolve the dispute, or at least get the roommate to see and accept her position. A trade of sorts. One she expects will be declined.

The blonde is on the other side of the door. T-shirt, shorts, barefoot. "We were just having some dinner. Come on in, you can have some of mine; I'll never eat that much all by myself."

"No— it's fine. I don't need to eat..," Peter says as he fidgets aith the sleeve of his light jacket, moving inside and pulling the carrier bag over his head, so he can put it down somewhere near the door. "Could have a little, I guess. Just wanted to see you," he adds, sounding a little on the nervous side.

At the table, standing and moving toward the entry corridor, Jane asks "Is that Pete, Elle?" She's not objectionable to the visit, because it's Pete, and it also potentially gets her out of the minefield. A few seconds later she's rounding the corner. "Hey. Thought I heard your voice." Then she ducks back into the kitchen.
Elle smiles, but it's starting to slip a little. "What's the matter?" she asks. "You sound a little off."

"Nothing's the matter," Peter says, still sounding "off". But then again she's forgotten some things about him. The fidgetting might not always mean something bad. "Hey Jane," he says to the cook who peeks in, before he looks over at Elle, smiling faintly.

It doesn't sound like cooking is happening in there. Jane retakes her seat and curls fingers around her glass as she goes back to thinking. So many things to ponder. Elle's quest to learn names, her position on that, how to keep Pete from meeting Jaden without giving him away by the avoidance of it… How to get Jaden to agree on being known to people around her… Can't introduce those two without warning the younger Petrelli. Last thing anyone needs is a gang of Petes suddenly appearing on a public street.

Elle doesn't look like she exactly buys it. But then, there's that whole "paranoid tendencies" thing. She watches Peter, her eyes narrowing just a little bit. "Well, come on in…" she backs up some to let Peter enter more."

"Really, nothing's wrong," Peter says with a hint of a sheepish smile. "Just wanted to see you. No dying today, promise," he says, raising a hand a bit in his defense, before he can fully step inside and put down his carrier bag.

No sound comes from the kitchen, she who sits in there remains speculative. After a short time Jane stands and opens a wine bottle to pour herself a glass and slowly enjoy it. Under her breath she whispers "You got your wish, Doctor. New York City and an interesting life. Little did you know it wouldn't be that way just because you play and sing."

Elle smiles a little. "What's in the bag?" she asks. Maybe still trying to figure something out, maybe not. Though she does start to lead Peter back to the kitchen."

As he gets led towards the kitchen, and the bag is inquired on, Peter picks it back up and carries it with him. "Nothing really. Just a few things. Book, colored pencils. Been trying to draw, see if I could get anything. Paints aren't exactly practical to carry around. Also have my copies of the Mendez paintings— the ones I have." Apparently there's no reason not to be honest." Of course, as they enter, he notices the young woman, who looks more… thoughtful than normal, "You okay, Jane?"

"I am," Jane answers, turning toward the pair as they enter. She lifts the glass and sips from the red contents. Her eyes scan the Petrelli brother briefly, she thinking to herself it's still amazing he died twice, or was it three times? and is still unscathed.

Elle smiles. She displays her styrofoam dinner box, and offers. "Shrimp?" Meanwhile, she takes a seat. "How was your day?"

"Take out? You know, I should come over and cook for the two of you one of these nights," Peter says, waving his hand at the offered shrimp, though he's smiling. "Pretty uneventful, in comparison. No kidnappings or eviscerations, for me at least. What about you two?"

"Fairly calm," Jane replies with a quiet chuckle. "There was band practice, studio session, some street music. Then there was steak and shrimp." Her dinner container is empty. She lifts the glass again. "Elle's cooked. She makes a good leg of lamb."

Elle shakes her head. "I followed directions. You told me what I was doing every step of the way. But my day was good, if interesting. A meeting with Daddy and Jessica." she says, and looks to Peter. "Which answers some questions about where she stands." Annoyed tone.

The steak and shrimp don't seem to really appeal to him, but Peter's paying attention when it's said that Elle cooked. "Maybe I can walk you through cooking sometime too," he says in passing, before moving on to more serious— and annoying to her topics. "So she's working with your dad?" There's a small sigh and he shakes his head. It shouldn't surprise him too much. His girlfriend wouldn't be so annoyed if she'd had the chance to fry the woman.

While others speak, Jane's eyes move from one to the other. She doesn't comment on Jessica or her employment status. "That's the basics of cooking. Get the ingredients, follow the recipe, and eat the results. Like anything else you improve with practice, and eventually come up with your own variations by experimenting. Substituting one item for another, or two."

Elle frowns. "THAT I'm not sure about." she admits. "Daddy didn't seem to know Jessica was after the painting. On the other hand, she's still clearly taking orders. So, little of both. Basically, he pulled us both in to tell us not to kill each other." She looks back to Jane, and chuckles. "I couldn't have done it if you weren't helping."

There's a frown hinted in the curve of his mouth as Peter moves to take a seat, pulling the carrier bag into his lap. "Maybe it's a good thing I haven't been able to get much from the sketching," he murmurs, shaking his head. "Anyway— she's right. Cooking's all about instruction, just like most things. Had to learn on my own after I moved out."

Quiet now, Jane the musical attorney listens as the others speak and slowly sips her wine, relaxing in the chair she occupies.

Elle looks back over. "We need to make sure that the people who work with you know as much as possible, Peter. I was filling Jane in on Isaac Mendez not 15 minutes before you got here. That's stuff they should know."

"They don't work with me, Elle," Peter says, shaking his head. "They're my friends. And I thought you knew about that already," he adds, looking towards Jane, obviously confused. "I have the digital copies with me. You've probably already seen them… I figured you both had."

"Paintings have been mentioned," Jane answers, "but hadn't been elaborated on. Time hasn't allowed for it yet. If I knew about them before, I… forgot. Before Elle and I talked today, the most I knew was that there'd been some virus issue at a hospital which brought one of them to mind."

Elle nods, and she looks over to Peter. "Work with, friends, same difference. If they're involved, they should know." She considers a moment whether to drop the next nugget of information. Or two. "There's also one of the Company's agents that I might want to have a little private chat with, and I may need some help on that. And while were at it, your friend's bookstore is apparently wired for sound."

There's a pause, and Peter opens up his carrier bag and pulls out a folder, which he holds out to Jane, should she want it. Inside there's thirteen digital prints of Isaac Mendez paintings, from the depiction of a burning room, to the tornado raging the city. "What do you mean? Why do you help to have a private chat with someone you work with?" For her, it is work. For him it's different. Rubbing his forehead with a free hand, he doesn't look surprised at the final tidbit of info, but— "Guess I don't have to wonder who put that there?"

She takes the folder and opens it, slowly looking through the contents. There's the one with the shattering vial and biohazard symbol, this makes an eyebrow raise. Adam, she thinks. Does whatever virus he tried to release still exist? On Jane goes until she reaches the one with the raging tornado. This one makes her stop and stare. "Times Square, late on the 4th. There was a tornado and an earthquake then. Is there a connection between that and this?" She taps the print.

Elle shakes her head. "I think she might be involved with the storms and earthquakes. Which in turn might be involved with the painting here. "I don't know anything for certain, but it's worth looking into."

"Could be," Peter says, nodding at the mention of the tornado. "That's what I'd think, at least. Probably someone like us, with abilities. Maybe… wind or air control instead of— like electricity," he nods towards Elle. There's also another nod, at the mention of earthquakes and tornados, and someone who might be connected. "What help do you need?"

Her eyes remain on the print of the tornado as she drifts in thought, replaying the scene in her head. The people who'd been at both places and only the one, the man who put the girl in a sleep hold, the punk in midair and the man holding him back from blowing away, then the shaking ground. The name Claudine, hearing she was an agent… Jane remarks "That was the second wind incident I saw. The first blew a boy into the water, I made a rope of sorts and helped pull people out, got help anchoring me."

Elle sounds just a little miffed at the questions, but she bites it back. "I don't particularly want the Company to know I'm poking around on this, unless you -want- Daddy getting involved. That means I can't use Company backup. I can do it myself if you'd rather."

There's a lot of confusion now, as Peter looks towards Elle, really unsure why she's saying what she's saying. "You said you needed help— if you need help— I can't exactly help you if you don't tell me how I can help you." He really seems to have no idea at all what just happened here to make her bring her father in threatwise, because that's how it sounds. "I don't want you to do it by yourself."

"I'm in," Jane offers. "What's the plan?" She keeps the rest of the Times Square story to herself for the moment, choosing to let Elle explain and thinking that's probably part of the operation being talked over.

Elle replies "Claudine. Jane's seen her twice at the scene of these events. I want to have a little…chat with her. Off the record, and away from the eyes of the Company. Get some answers."

"Claudine," Peter repeats, reaching up to rub on his forehead. He might be surprised she's involved in the incidents, but it doesn't sound as if he's never heard of her. "Miss Salonga. Yeah— I've met her a couple times." That's actually something he's never told anyone, really— or why he'd seen her last especially… "How can I help?"

"Claudine Salonga… I've played for her, right in front of this building and had coffee with her at Starbucks too, never knew a name, though. There was a younger Filipina at both places too, and a large man. He put the younger one in a sleeper hold, and not long afterward the tornado stopped, just before the ground shook." She sets the raging tornado print down and goes back through the others.

The blonde smiles. "Just like cop shows, Peter. I'd rather have backup before I do this. You hang back, make sure that you stop her if she somehow gets past me and makes a break for it." She looks to Jane. "Likewise you, if you think you're up for it. I don't know that your power does anything against -people-, and I don't know if you can fight." The blonde stands. "Further planning waits. I was cleaning before Jane brought home dinner, and I need a shower like whoa." She kisses Peter on the cheek briefly. "In case you have to fly before I'm done." And then she heads for the bathroom.

"I think— she might make the ground shake," Peter says, putting these thoughts together in his head. "First time we met she accused me of doing something— Don't know if I did, but only thing I could remember later is that the ground was a little shaky," he says, looking towards the place Elle just vacated. He'd definitely try to help, if he can. "Since she mentioned bugs… have you checked this place?"

"I haven't," Jane replies, she just now coming back around to that, and remembering Elle said the bookstore was wired for sound. "Damn," she swears under her breath. "Everything talked about there…" Her face pales a bit. "We'll be checking soon, rest assured. But yeah, I heard about Claudine after the thing in Times Square. Other people were with me, they told me her name and that she's company, one of them suggested Claudine and the younger Filipina might be related. The big guy who had the younger one in a hold, it looked like her was making her sleep, and the tornado stopped soon after I saw that. Just before the tremors."

"There— one of the times I met her… there was a mention of another Salonga who might be with the Company," Peter says, thinking back to the appearance of the driver. "A driver showed up looking for a Salonga, and she didn't know a thing about whoever was being picked up. It was at Kirby Plaza. It's— possible there's another one. Maybe they'd arrived that day— or maybe it was just a missunderstanding. But it didn't seem impossible to her that another Salonga would be there." It just— sounds weird. "I'll be checking my place tonight."

She goes quiet as he speaks, and instead holds a finger to her lips as she leaves the kitchen, intending to enter the main room, gesturing for him to follow. Once there she pulls out a pad and pen to write with. On it she jots down 'With the store bugged, they know we know about Claudine, etc, a group of us talked it over at the store afterwards, so they didn't hear anything new if this place has bugs. But for anything else…' Jane lets it trail off and leaves the sheet for him to read.

There's a nod, and Peter reaches into his carrier bag to pull out the book he'd been trying to sketch in. In this, he writes quickly, before he turns it around to show: Right after I was erased from Elle's memories, Miss Salonga sent me an anonymous text message for a meeting at the park. She played up secret agent for a few minutes, before dropping it and telling me to meet her at a cafe to talk. She wanted to find a way to fix what happened to Elle. I made a promise not to tell anyone. She said she would keep me informed on what happened, but she wanted me to do her a favor later, owe her something. I said I wouldn't owe her anything, because she still works for the Company. Not sure if that would help with anything, but I haven't even told Elle.

That makes her scowl a bit, before Jane writes quickly 'What did Claudine want as this favor? She's been around me, now I have to wonder if that was or wasn't part of me being watched. No wonder people kept things from me. I play Bob Marley for an agent and haven't the first clue!' Her hand stops for a moment, she thinks, then writes again. 'You should leave, sweep your apartment, we'll make contact soon after we do this place, and we'll need to send warnings out. Elena, Lachlan, Cass… Anyone who frequents the store, really.'

"I better get going," Peter says outloud, in case there is anyone listening. "Can you tell Elle I'll see her later?" He asks, even while he's scrawling something else quickly on his book: 'I don't know what she would have asked of me. I don't know if she even knew. And agreed. Anyone who frequents the store needs to be warned. We need a new place to meet up for certain things, sounds like.' "I'll see you later," he adds, after she's had time to read it, collecting the painting prints, and his book, and putting them into the carrier bag. He glances towards the sounds of the shower regretfully, before he starts towards the door.

"Good night, Pete," Jane answers quietly as she walks to the door with him, and sees him out. Once Pete is gone, she writes on the pad and leaves the sheet where Elle can see it when she comes out of the shower, a message that for safety they should sweep this place for bugs and be silent until then. After that's done, she starts sending out phone text messages to people needing warned.

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