2020-05-17 - event horizon

Everybody has to go downtown for something sooner or later, right? It's impossible not to at some point. That's when Megan finally comes to the next name on the list, August Roen. She's been in the peripheral since sometime yesterday - after she finished at Two If By Sea, to be precise - but unnoticed. That was her, slouched down below the horizon of a nondescript sedan; that was her, window-shopping for potted plants; and that's her now, falling in step alongside August when he leaves whatever store he was patronizing, catching him between the door of the shop and the door of his car. A couple of people mill move around on the sidewalk across the street, and a woman is having a conversation on her cell phone, huddled under an umbrella about a half-block away. No one is within earshot, but it's still pretty public out here, with all the windows and traffic on the street and such.

Anyway, she keeps pace three or four steps, hands jammed into grubby jeans, the hood of her sweatshirt pulled up against the midday drizzle. "Is your name August?"

August hasn't been sleeping well; he has Them and Sarajevo circa 1994 to thank for that. They always know which buttons to push, what spots are sore and tender, which scars pull the most. He's a little cranky about it, because he's been quite well-behaved when it comes to using his power, especially for healing, and it sure doesn't seem to have mattered.

So out of the drug store he comes, having just grabbed some prescriptions (now stuffed into the inner pocket of his black suede jacket). He's got dark circles under his eyes, but otherwise looks like his usual self, in a flannel, jeans, and hiking boots.

He doesn't notice the young woman sharing his space until she speaks. He looks askance at the question, double-takes for a half-second in that way anyone who notices Glimmer will do. He eyes her a moment, turns his attention back to his path. "Depends on who's asking. Does he owe you money? If so, my name's Ruiz de la Vega."

Shaking her head, she's quick to come back with, "Good try, but I already had this conversation with him." She shrugs an apology, continues alongside August like this is perfectly normal and acceptable behavior. "My name's Megan Keene." There's a pause here, where she should go on, but she just lets the name sit out there a moment, looking a question at August.

Her response has August frowning a little and cutting her a look. Well, people with Glimmer interact randomly and for odd reasons, that much he knows. But then she says her name, and he slows his pace, until gradually, he stops. His black Outback sits in the distance, parked away from other cars; his eyes linger on it for a moment before shifting to Megan.

He looks her over, makes a low sound. "So. You are making the rounds," he says. One eyebrow arches up. "Gotta say, I thought you'd be..." His mouth flattens as he tries to come up with a way to put it. "Stronger looking."

Megan says, "Likewise." Seeing as she's been tailing him all afternoon, she follows his look to the Outback, then across the street to a store window with movement on the other side, yonder to the woman on her phone, then back to August. "I'm not too far out on a limb here," tiny smirk, on account of he's a tree-hugger, "by assuming you know what the deal is already, am I? I give you your memories back, you get left a little faded?" Throat clear. "A lot faded."

August turns to face Megan, folds his arms. He grunts at the joke, adds, "I'm always out on a limb," with a small, wry smile. He nods, though, confirming her assumption. "I did have a couple questions, though." Well, it's not a 'fuck no, get out before I break your spine', which is where he was a couple days ago. Insomnia will do wonders for one's rational thinking.

His eyebrows go up. "You willing to answer questions about it?" Noting the woman on the phone, he adds, "We can walk somewhere more private, if that's better."

She blinks enormous eyes at August, wide and taken aback, a match for the gasp and the hand she flattens to her sternum. "Questions? Really? Color me shocked." In all seriousness, though, she shakes her head at the offer to go somewhere else, staying where she is, in the drizzle with the other people around. "I'm good here if you are. What do you wanna know?"

August gives Megan the most bored, bland look possible at her reaction. It's 'tired middle aged dude', distilled. His expression relaxes some when she says she's fine there, in the drizzle. So is he, but then, he's a native who works outside. He has to be.

"What causes the fading? Is it just the..." He gestures with a hand, "The effort of fixing whatever they did to us?"

Megan's probably not lying. There aren't a lot of ways to know for sure, and the only one that's always for sure is hard to pull off against this one, but she seems to be credible. There's a little regret in the shrug and her reply; "I don't know. I mean, I've thought about it? And I think it's probably that. That's it's just so hard." The shrug drops. "But your guess is as good as mine."

Another of those low sounds of acknowledgment. So much of the Art, and the Veil, amounted to 'who knows'. But he's a scientist; accepting that some things aren't known and working within those constraints was his deal. Experimenting on himself, less so. And yet...

"I'll be honest, I only went the once. I can't imagine I have anything useful," he taps his temple, "in here. So it's a lot of work for you, and some bullshit for me, for probably not much." Yet he doesn't look dead set against it.

He looks aside at nothing in particular. "You know how if we do something Over There, it changes the Veil itself. We fucked up that factory, now none of their shit works. So if we fuck up that...whatever it is, it could have big consequences." He pauses there, to see what she makes of that.

"I'm not in this to get anything useful." Megan actually nods along with all the things August is saying, seemingly in wholehearted agreement with him. And when he's done, she answers back readily; "Honestly, it doesn't matter to me whether you say yes or no. I get it. Maybe it's just not worth the hassle to you, and that's okay. Some people can handle not knowing, and some people can't." So she shrugs, looking at August as if she might get a read on which of those two types of people he is.

"I just have to make the offer. I have no idea what bigger consequences there might be. Maybe it'll wind up frying all our brains." She pulls her lips askew, frowning off into the middle distance for a second while she mulls over this possibility. "Or maybe it'll only fry the brains of the people who didn't get their memories back." Her attention returns to August, smile briefly manic when she concludes, "It's a crap shoot, and you're the shooter."

August sighs, runs a hand over his face. He doesn't seem terribly concerned about knowing or not knowing. "Gotta admit I don't like that there's...something they did, still in my head." So, less about the content, more about the fact that it's even there. "Like all those employers wanting social media passwords, even if your account's empty. Still a bullshit thing to do."

He coughs a laugh at the idea of it being a crap shoot, though something else she says has him narrowing his eyes. "You have to?" He tilts his head, inviting an explanation if she's so inclined.

A nod agrees with the opening comments. Megan is on the same page there, about not having bullshit stuff in her head she can't get to! Then the nod deepens to answer the question. "Pretty much. So, if you do this? You can wait it out, if you want. The feeling awful. I dunno how long," she wedges in quickly, to forestall the question. "Two days, two years, beats me. Or you can figure out what to do with yourself."

She looks at August, looks down at herself, looks back at August, and smiles an intentionally fake smile. "Apparently, this is my life now."

August shrugs aside the notion of how long. He's too old, had Glimmer for so much of his life that two years and two days don't feel much different. Still, he studies Megan for a long spell, eyes assessing her. He's turning 'figure out what to do with yourself' and 'this is my life now' over in his head. "You mean...you have to do this, or you stay diminished. So that's what you figured out, to do."

"Yes." Megan's hand makes an appearance, pulled out of her pocket quickly, to flash August a thumbs up. He figured it out. Then it gets stuffed back into her pocket, and she's waiting with an expression that would be audible as 'sooooooo...?'

Another sigh, this one deeper and longer. August shuts his eyes a moment. Alexander will be annoyed with him. Ellie will feel two ways about it; she wants to know, but also, she won't care for the result. Isabella, at last, will get it. Itzhak will be pissed.

But fuck it. They need to know what they're dealing with.

"Yeah," he says. "Okay. You okay to do this here?"

After a long look into the store window, a shorter one at the woman on her phone, Megan answers with a quick nod and a deep breath - that gets interrupted halfway through. "You don't get seizures or anything, right? Apparently, that's a concern." She finishes taking that breath now.

August blinks. "No, not that I know of. Just tinnitus, sometimes, from an old head injury." He takes a deep breath, lets it out slow, and waits. He's not sure what to expect, but figures bracing himself isn't going to help, might even hurt.

August sucks in a breath in surprise at the relief, lets it out just as suddenly at the fading. He doubles over, grunting, dizzy with the sudden change. "Jesus...fucking...Christ," he grinds out.

He closes his eyes, focuses on staying upright. "Those motherfuckers. Putting some kind of...black hole in our fucking heads." He's pale, almost ashen, trembling despite the relatively mild day. At least he's not throwing up.

After a few seconds, he asks, "What do you do...when everyone has their memories back?" How does she stay unfaded, he means, but doesn't have the where-withall to clarify just now.

A little surprised when he doubles over, Megan skitters a step backward, leaning away to maintain that all important thing: personal space. She's not surprised even a little at what he blurts out, though, just agrees with a fast nod. "I think different people feel it different ways. You're the first with 'black hole,' though." Her smile is a little listless now, colored with sympathy while she looks at a dimmer version of August. "Beats me. Probably not the thing you should be worried about," she tacks on with a brittle chuckle.

Already a step backward, she seems ready to turn and walk off - her work here is done! - but hesitates without taking that next step. "If you know the cop. Ruiz de la Vega? Tell him he better make up his mind quick, because I'm gonna have to go soon." She points at the store window across the street like that's relevant, already leaning to pick up the step she halted.

August shudders, straightens. "Yeah. I'll...yeah." He watches her go, turns to examine the shop window. Not that he's concerned someone might be watching, but, well...

August watches the man who gets into his Prius, mind racing in a hundred directions as it copes with the sudden shift in its internal spacetime. A nothing made something, and his Glimmer, like it was when it first came to him, weak and trembling. He's had it for so long, been so strong for so much of his life, that he'd forgotten what it was like for it to have so little.

It's disorienting, and he's low on sleep. He needs to talk to Eleanor. Right now.

But first, he takes out his phone and swipes a text to Ruiz, before he forgets. Then he climbs in his car and drives back to 29 Spruce street, and passes out in the kitchen.