2023-04-14: Reunions
- Cast: Michele Luio, Shelby Korts
- Where: Orbital Ring VIP Club
- Date: U.C. 0097 04 14
- Summary: Michele meets Shelby in a neutral ground to discuss Rita. It goes surprisingly well, and she even gets to make a pitch. But she's still holding herself back...
<Pose Tracker> Michele Luio has posed.
Somehow, the illustrious Shelby Korts was reached via a contact. A note for her, with an exact meeting place and time - something she could understand, but her alone.
'We need to catch up, talk about canaries. Meet me...' Signed by one 'Iscariot'.
Club Kanade is hard to get into. You need to know someone, or be someone. When Shelby likely approaches, the bouncer recognizes orders given, and allows her in, instructing her to 'head to VIP'. The club itself is crowded, but she's moved quickly upstairs...
Which has a few more people than just bodyguards and Michele. The heiress isn't stupid - if it was just her, it wouldn't be neutral. There's a few fatcats thinking about how they'll get richer, or about their affairs (both monetary and against their partners), or just drinking away their sorrows.
Michele is at the bar. The bartender will keep quiet, no matter what is heard. She's sipping at a martini. A soda has been set out for her guest. Hmmm. She does not start the conversation, but her thoughts are on one thing.
'Rita Bernal.'
<Pose Tracker> Shelby Korts has posed.
Of course she shows up.
But the bouncer-- as well as the staff-- look a little bit confused; a classy place with a tight list for guests now has a girl dropping the correct names to be admitted entry and she definitely does not match the usual level of wealth and style afforded places like these, even amongst the Orbital Ring. Of course security gives her looks, but she stays eyes-forward the entire time; up the stairs and into the area.
Years ago she was a small girl in scrubs. Fiery red hair with big thick curls and waves falling well down her back, hospital scrubs, and clinging to an IV stand. The girl that Rita paid attention to. The one that could communicate with her without saying a single word.
Now, she's dressed in lightweight, sporty clothes: Hoodie, t-shirt, and leggings, with running sneakers that have been put through the wringer for years. She has glasses that aren't bog-standard institutional fare, and her hair is shoulder-length and pink. And with everything that's happened lately, she just looks ... tired.
Shelby Korts takes in the room less with an air of wonder or attempting to enjoy the spice and the color and lighting, instead keeping an eye out for who is likely carrying weapos, out of place, or quick exits if she needs them. Then, and only then, does she actually *look* at Michele, even while walking toward her.
Easing up onto the stool at the bar, Shelby pulls up only one foot to rest on the support bar of the seat, the other still somewhat firmly flat on the floor. Her fingers touch the corner of the drink, pulling the soda to the side. "Decaf, please."
And then, Shelby just looks at Michele with a slight turn of her head, expression flat.
"So?"
<Pose Tracker> Michele Luio has posed.
"Guess I guessed wrong. Thought you'd be a coke person, and not the type this club likes." Michele remarks first, admitting in her head 'I didn't know you as well as I should have'. You never start upfront and completely honest. Despite that, she knows better than to *lie* to Shelby. She'll see through it.
"We got off to a bad foot back there, and I thought I'd try to mend a bridge." Michele sips at her martini as the bartender gets Shelby's decaf without complaint.
"We have a shared history. And we have a shared interest. Everyone thinks I'm a devil. They're not wrong. But I'm not the one who stands to benefit from any of this."
A pause. She swirls her drink, thinking about how good it tastes, to let the timing be controlled.
"Rita does." 'What if she could be alive again, reunited with everyone she cares about?'
<Pose Tracker> Shelby Korts has posed.
"Caffeine makes the sound worse," she says, gesturing with a small wave of her finger adjacent to her temple. She doesn't need to say anything beyond that; Michele understands. Better than most people, actually. Waiting for the bartender to return, she nods and says a quick 'thank you' before taking a sip. Setting the glass back down on the napkin, the young woman's fingers stay close to the rim, sliding across the surface as she keeps it close to her grasp.
She hears the question, and it's enough for her eyebrow to tic visibly. But, doing her best to quickly hide the reaction, her mouth draws into a flat line, twisting the glass around on the napkin like she were playing with it a bit.
"Rita has something she needs to do."
<Pose Tracker> Michele Luio has posed.
"What does she need to do that requires being everyone's personal Jesus?" Michele asks, rhetorically without batting an eyelid. "She's amassing groupies, at least. That much is obvious." Interesting way to see it...
"She's flitting around from disaster to disaster, yet, that can't possibly be her goal. She's not *just* a canary. She's after something, but so am I. There's someone she needs to reunite with. Everyone wants a piece of her, of course, but he deserves it the most."
She blocks a name by drifting her thoughts to something else rapidly. She's been clearly trying to practice before this meeting.
"I know she'd feel the same way. They cared about each very much. But whatever she's doing...she's on a different layer of reality than us." 'I don't even know if she's still human.'
Michele takes a sip of her martini, and then answers the unspoken thought aloud. "But she could be."
<Pose Tracker> Shelby Korts has posed.
'She's amassing groupies, at least.'
"She's making friends," Shelby injects, quietly.
'That can't possibly be her goal.'
Shelby's brow creases, eyes lidding halfway.
"So it *was* Jona in that machine. I could feel the psychoframe activation." Not just that she knows what psychoframe is, but that she could--? She takes another sip, this time holding the glass a bit longer while looking down at it.
A vision of Rita flits across her vision. The room; the dark place giving way to lights and comfort. The hug, and the smile, and--
"Nobody ... she's not ... some. Prize to be awarded, Michele."
'She's on a different layer of reality than us.' That especially causes her to frown, to roll the glass enough that the ice-- already beginning to melt-- lulls and lists and clinks against the fancy glass's surface. The dreams, her spirit, her ... everything. She's different, yes, but ... "She is. And after the stunt you pulled with that 'Phenex hunt,' I'm still not sure why I should trust you at all. But I'm here because... our... our past."
"... and I'm sure Rita doesn't want us fighting."
Shelby sighs, letting her back straighten a little. She's ... so different from the terrified girl she used to be. "I'll listen to your pitch, but if I don't like what I hear, I'm out of here."
<Pose Tracker> Michele Luio has posed.
"I didn't mean it that way." It's said confidently, but even saying that much is vulnerability, in regards to 'the prize'. She doesn't remark on the Psychoframe, though it's inwardly worrying.
Michele sighs, and nods. "That's fair. I'll give you the pitch, then."
"She's not going to go anywhere on her own. She's stubborn. She has been since we were elementary school children, before..." She lets Augusta's name trail off her tongue instead of saying it.
"My father researched heavily into cryogenics, and has some interests in cloning. He wants immortality more than a clone body, meaning the latter's never gone anywhere, so he's just an icecube now. Which means my sister runs the company, and I run the goal of bringing him back. This is why I have as much leeway as I do."
'They think I'm capturing the Phenex for them.'
"But, as I just said...yeah. I have these 'birdcages' that can hold her speed back. If we can contain her, we should be able to allow her to reunite with him. From there, if we can find her remains inside...we may be able to bring her back, thread the needle."
A shaky breath. "It's a big gamble, and a big risk. If we can't bring her back..."
'Well, can't believe in that. People like her are made of miracles.'
She leaves the implication that she isn't, unspoken.
"She doesn't need to be a ghost to accomplish her goals."
<Pose Tracker> Shelby Korts has posed.
Shelby listens, evenly, carefully, setting the glass down and ... considering it. She doesn't actually have any idea if any of this is real-- if it could happen. If they can somehow find a way to bring her back. Her brow creases again, hands falling flat to the bar. The gears are turning -- legitimately, spinning.
"I'm not saying I believe you, but."
Her head tilts slightly, voice still calm and centered and serious. "You're not gonna get that hatch open without her consent. She won't open up for anyone," she says, briefly glancing at Michele. "Not even me. And I think you and Jona are part of it," Shelby says, selecting her words. It's not so much lies as lies of omission; struggling to be very careful.
Looking down for a moment at the bar, her hands then move closer together, fingers weaving up a bit. "Look. ... The next time I talk to her--" the next time? "-- I can bring it up. But I can't promise you anything. You know how she is. And I will never force her to do anything against her will."
"I trust Rita. Always."
<Pose Tracker> Michele Luio has posed.
"If she has a mission...Jona's definitely part of it." Why not her? Michele's thoughts briefly betray her. There's no words.
Just a torrent of self-loathing, always under the surface, suppressed.
"I'll accept that. But if she refuses, I'm not sitting idly by and waiting for her mission to complete. Clocks are ticking. If we have to go head-to-head again..."
She sighs. "I'll avoid the cockpit."
"Drinks are on me." Michele says, before ordering another martini.
<Pose Tracker> Shelby Korts has posed.
The image in her mind of Jona is ... there, but it's a little more foggy. Less like her other unreliable memories, he's there, but she still has to fit all the pieces back together-- the pieces that she still has, given what kind of hell Augusta was for her and the other kids.
"She loves you both so much," she finally says, after a long moment of introspection.
"But ... the harder you chase her, the brighter she burns." Closing her eyes as she quickly swallows down the last of the cola, she sets the glass back down on the napkin and frowns. She leaves the statement to hang, ambiguous and forewarning.
"And if you hurt her..." Shelby starts, trailing off-- then shaking her head. "I'm good," the young woman says, lifting up her hand a little at the offer. "Thanks for the drink, Michele."
Pushing up from the stool and finally repositioning her feet to stand rather than be ready to burst-run away at the first sign of trouble, the pink-haired young woman stuffs her hands into her hoodie's pockets.
"I'm glad you two got out of there."
<Pose Tracker> Michele Luio has posed.
"She's a fool to love me." Michele finally voices out loud, turning away, clearly not wanting or listening to any response. She plays with her new martini, allowing Shelby to leave.
"You too. Stay alive."
Once Shelby's finally gone, Michele lingers for a bit. Someone passes her at the bar, bumping into her. Pickpocket...?
There's a data disk and a note in her pocket, where there wasn't before.
Looks like something interesting's about to unfold.