Post by Craven on Jul 11, 2014 20:03:08 GMT -6
Skylar Hansen stands in Craven’s home waiting impatiently for him to return from a job. He’d promised he’d be home by now and it was not like him to be late or to keep her waiting. Just as she’s about to call, the door flies open and Craven marches inside carrying this an unconscious redhead woman. Skylar watches this and her eyes go wide more in shock than anything else.
Skylar Hansen: Rick... Is everything ok?
She see's the woman’s face and gasps.
Skylar Hansen: Is that who I think it is?
Craven nods.
Craven: Yeah, help get her situated on the couch.
Skylar quickly pulls a throw blanket off the couch as Craven moves the unconscious girl onto it.
Craven: Go to the fridge and see if the adrenaline shot is still in there, we might need it.
Nodding again, Skylar quickly does as she’s told. As she returns, she dinds her boyfriend holding onto the unconscious girl’s wrist.
Craven: Ok… steady…
Skylar lays the shot on the table next to the couch.
Skylar Hansen: What do you need me to do?
Craven: Come here and feel and see if you get the same pulse I am. It feels ok, but I wanna make sure that isn’t just me hoping…
Skylar does as she told, her own hands shaking a little as she does so. She places her fingers around the girls wrist and waits.
Skylar Hansen: I can't feel anything... If it’s there, it’s faint...
Her panic is evident in her voice.
Skylar Hansen: Am I doing it right? Please tell me I just felt it wrong... Please tell me she's ok!
He nods slowly as he picks up the shot.
Craven: Open her shirt, I’ve done this before.
Skylar nods and opens her shirt, exposing her bra beneath, her eyes wide in her panic, fear pulsing through her.
Craven: Ok… here goes…
He stabs the needle into her chest and the woman sits up screaming.
Craven: If you can here me… God I’m gonna hate myself for this but… say something…
Still seemingly in shock, the girl barely manages to look up.
Girl: Like Pulp Fiction?
Skylar Hansen: She's ok Rick... We saved her!
Tears of happiness are present in Sky's eyes.
Skylar Hansen: Are you ok love? How do you feel?
Girl: What...happened?
She glances around nervously.
Girl: Where am I and who are you people?
Craven nods slowly.
Craven: It’s a long story…
- - - - - -
Craven sits in his car outside Riggsy’s, a bar/pool hall a few miles off the strip in Las Vegas, Nevada, watching again as his mark, a woman calling herself Mercedes Graves, enters the bar as she has every other night he’s watched for the last five weeks. As she disappears inside, Craven reaches up and switches his voice recorder on.
Craven: You always have to wonder, which is more illuminating about someone? I can look at somebody and tell a few things from how they appear but you always have to ask if it’s real, or if it’s a projection of something else? So which is more illuminating, what somebody chooses to show you voluntarily or what they choose to try and hide from you bubbling under the surface facade?
He pauses and he sees his mark step from the door and glance around nervously.
Craven: Take Miss Zing, for example. She chose to show some of her heritage this week, giving in-depth explanations of how she likes to think of herself as a particular weapon. It’s an interesting gaze into her psyche to see that she does think of herself that way, especially when you put it together with the skills she’s shown in the ring. She is quite obviously, a dangerous weapon but is she the one she sees herself as?
He shrugs as he watches Mercedes go back inside the bar.
Craven: Most people like to see themselves as a weapon. They see themselves as a something they consider really cool like a katana or a broadsword or a giant machine gun with endless ammunition. Video games have given us a whole spectrum of choices most of us wouldn’t even know existed unless we were somebody like Miss Zing, from a completely different culture with completely different choices to be had. The reality of the situation is that most people are not a big bad ass battle weapon with sharp edges that can slice everyone else to ribbons if given the opportunity.
He snortles to himself as he watches a somewhat dimwitted gentleman walk from the bar, clearly inebriated.
Craven: Most of the people in this world are like the gentleman I just watched leave an establishment he had clearly sampled the benefits of a little too extravagantly. That man was a dull, blunt force weapon that could be deadly in certain hands but has probably seen better days and would crack from the strain if it were pressed into service. I myself am probably not the greatest weapon, more like a small one with an edge to it. I can be used to do damage, but I probably won’t scare anyone off at first glance.
Mercedes staggers out the door and glances around, shaking ever so slightly as she rubs her arms up and down. She looks around some more and then hurries back inside.
Craven: Amy Zing is much like I am in that regard. She’s the switchblade hiding in a pocket or the Derringer hiding in places you never thought something like that could be concealed. She’s a butter knife that’s been sharpened on the side you can’t see and when she strikes, you wish you’d looked more closely before judging her.
He watches as the man he’d called Tweeter the previous evening walks into the bar.
Craven: And there’s my cue to start the karaoke…
He switches off the recorder as he starts singing.
Craven: Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Wrote the book of the seven seals
He steps from his car and makes his way to the door, shaking his head as he sees the place’s security guy passed out to the right of the sidewalk. He enters, still singing as he goes.
Craven: You know God walked down in the cool of the day
And called Adam by his name
And he refused to answer
'Cause he was naked and ashamed
Walking passed a fight by a video game, Craven makes his way towards the bar.
Craven: Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Wrote the book of the seven seals
Moving up to the bar, the keeper nods.
Craven: You know Christ had twelve apostles
Three he led away
He said, "Watch o’er me one hour
While I go yonder and pray"
As the sound of his singing reaches the bartender’s ears, he stops and shakes his head.
Bartender: Don’t want no trouble, Buddy.
Craven cocks his head, almost smiling.
Craven: Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Wrote the book of the seven seals
The bartender swallows hard, clearly unnerved.
Bartender: You here about that bitch, Mercy?
Craven nods even as he keeps singing.
Craven: Christ rose Easter morning
Mary and Martha they went down to see
Go tell My disciples
To meet Me in Galilee
The bartender nods and then points to the back room. Craven nods gratefully and makes his way across the bar to the door in question. He opens it to find Mercedes wobbling in a chair, the two dealers standing near her looking expectantly at her.
Craven: Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Wrote the book of the seven seals
At the sound of his voice, they turn to meet him as he closes the door.
"Tweeter": Can we help you?
Craven nods to Mercedes.
Craven: How much?
The two dealers turn to each other and share a look of puzzlement before turning back to Craven.
"Tweeter": Owe or snorted?
Craven shrugs.
Craven: Both.
The dealer nods.
"Tweeter": Fifty… and too damn much.
Nodding, Craven glances at the girl and then back to the dealer.
Craven: Would you like to be paid or?
The dealer smirks with amusement.
"Tweeter": Or?
Shrugging, Craven starts peeling off bills.
Craven: Look man, I’m in a position to help you out here. I’m also in a position to, well, we don’t really need to get into that.
The dealer laughs.
"Tweeter": Did you really just give me the “easy way or the hard way” speech?
Craven just stares him down.
Craven: I was appealing to your business sense. I can satisfy her financial situation with you or you can let her die but neither of us really wants that because of all the physical labor and time that will be involved with you having a customer drop dead in here from using your product. And I don’t want because I then have to go back to the people I actually care about and tell them things they don’t want to hear. I’ll be unhappy, they’ll be unhappy and then you’ll be unhappy and none of us want that, do we?
The dealer frowns.
"Tweeter": Whatchu mean… dead?
Craven nods to Mercedes.
Craven: In ten seconds, she will probably get physically ill and make a mess. A few minutes after that, she will start sweating profusely and start looking like she has a really nasty case of the flu. A few more minutes after that, she will pass out and possibly start to convulse before her heart stops completely. Then you’ll have a corpse in here because she overdosed…
The dealer looks at her and quickly starts to panic.
"Tweeter": Shit, man… SHIT!!!!
Craven sighs heavily.
Craven: If you would allow me, I can settle her debt and then take her off your hands before she expires. Thus, if she goes, she will be my problem and not yours, what do you think of that idea?
The dealer quickly nods.
"Tweeter": Yeah man, hell yeah, that’s…
Craven quickly walks up to him and hands him the money.
Craven: Please count quickly…
The dealer quickly checks the money and nods.
"Tweeter": Yeah man, it’s all there…
Craven nods and the dealer nods back.
"Tweeter": Thank you, man…
Craven shrugs as he scoops up Mercedes.
Craven: Is there a back exit to his establishment that I could utilize to avoid endangering your business?
The second man nods and opens what looks like a closet door. Craven glances inside it and sees a second door that leads to the parking lot.
Craven: Pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen, let’s try not to make this…
He nods to Mercedes and her current condition.
Craven: A habit…
The two dealers nod as Craven carries Mercedes to his car. He quickly straps her into the passenger seat before taking his place in the driver’s seat. Less than half a minute later, the car leaves the parking lot and screams off into the night.
- - - - - -
Craven: So... that's what happened... he hit you and then you passed out.
Skylar Hansen: you were lucky he got to you when he did... Otherwise you'd be dead..
Craven: So… do we call you Mercy or Mercedes?
Before the girl can answer, the door opens and Rocket and Sin come walking into the room. Rocket nods, looking mildly amused that they have another girl in the place while Sin stops in her tracks. She gets a good look at the girl on the couch and then falls to her knees screaming.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: Cind? Cind, are you ok? CIND!!!!
The girl looks over from the couch.
Girl: Cind…. Cindy? Is that you?
Sin’s voice fades out as tears scream down her face. Skylar jumps and and runs over to Sin, wrapping her arms tight around her.
Skylar Hansen: Shhh, Sin, it’s ok, she's ok... We're all ok... Just breathe...
The girl’s eyes narrow as she stares at Sin.
Girl: It’s really you…
Craven looks from the girl to Sin and then back to the girl.
Craven: Do you know her?
The girl nods.
Girl: I used to.
Craven cocks his head.
Craven: Used to? So, you don’t know her from the PleasureDome?
The girl shakes her looking somewhat surprised.
Girl: She works there too?
Skylar cocks her head,
Skylar Hansen: Her and I both do. How do you two know each other?
Craven: You’re remembering now… aren’t you?
The girl nods.
Skylar Hansen: Are you feeling ok now Mercedes?
Sin frowns.
Cynthia "Sin" Conway: Mercedes?
The girl nods slowly.
Girl: It’s the name I use…
Craven nods knowingly.
Craven: But it’s not really your name, is it?
The girl shakes her head.
Girl: No… it was the kind of car…
Skylar frowns.
Skylar Hansen: So you've got two stage names?
The girl shakes her head.
Girl: Mercedes and Miss Mercy depending on who’s talking...
Craven: But you didn’t remember what your name was until now… did you?
The girl shakes her head.
Girl: No…
Skylar Hansen: What is your real name, Love?
Girl: Brittany…
Craven nods.
Craven: Brittany what?
Sin suddenly finds her voice.
Cynthia "Sin" Conway: Brittany Conway…
Skylar gapes putting two and two together.
Skylar Hansen: Brittany Conway? As in... But I thought...?
Sin crawls forward and reaches out.
Cynthia "Sin" Conway: Brittany… is that really…
The girl nods and she and Sin hug each other. Skylar looks over at Craven.
Skylar Hansen: Who knew right? Sisters... Guess they say everything happens for a reason.
Craven nods slowly.
Craven: Fraser had no idea. There was nothing for her as far as information. She was just, “Mercedes Graves.”
Skylar Hansen: Clearly a stage name if ever I heard one.
Brittany Conway: Comic books, she’s Lex Luthor’s secretary.
Skylar Hansen: Like I said, clearly a stage name. If you’re gonna pick a fake name, never go with anything out of literature, movies or anything like that, unless you wanna get found out.
Brittany Conway: There was nothing to find out, I was a Jane Doe. It was the first thing I saw, so it’s my legal name.
Skylar Hansen: You lost your memory?
Brittany nods.
Craven: And seeing Cindy…
Brittany nods again.
Skylar Hansen: How did you lose your memory? What happened? Can you remember?
Brittany Conway: I don’t remember much from before I woke up in the hospital. They told me I’d been in a car crash and hit my head real hard. They kept telling me somebody would be by to come get me and nobody ever came.
Sin hugs her.
Cynthia "Sin" Conway: I’ve missed you… so… much…
Brittany hugs her and then suddenly looks up in terror.
Brittany Conway: Oh my God, what am I gonna do… that Tweeter and…
Craven nods.
Craven: Paid…
Skylar Hansen: Rick would never leave you unsafe. If not paying the bill meant you were unsafe, he'd tend to it. He's good like that.
Cynthia "Sin" Conway: Can we keep her?
Skylar:Sin... She's not a puppy. And yeah, if she wants to stay, I'm sure we can work something out.[/color]
Brittany can’t help but laugh.
Brittany Conway: I have a place.
Craven nods.
Craven: It’s like a block away from you guys.
Sin frowns.
Cynthia "Sin" Conway: The apartment or the house?
Craven: House.
Skylar Hansen: Nice little neighborhood we're building here, PleasureDome, my place, her place your place, all not far from each other.
Craven: Funny how that worked out, huh?
Skylar Hansen: Yeah... Kinda funny indeed.
Craven nods and smiles as the little family reunion continues. After fifteen minutes, he excuses himself and dials a number.
Craven: Fraser, Craven, the situation is resolved for the moment. Her name is Brittany Conway.
He pauses and then nods at Fraser’s reaction.
Craven: Yes, THAT Brittany Conway.
Skylar Hansen: Rick... Is everything ok?
She see's the woman’s face and gasps.
Skylar Hansen: Is that who I think it is?
Craven nods.
Craven: Yeah, help get her situated on the couch.
Skylar quickly pulls a throw blanket off the couch as Craven moves the unconscious girl onto it.
Craven: Go to the fridge and see if the adrenaline shot is still in there, we might need it.
Nodding again, Skylar quickly does as she’s told. As she returns, she dinds her boyfriend holding onto the unconscious girl’s wrist.
Craven: Ok… steady…
Skylar lays the shot on the table next to the couch.
Skylar Hansen: What do you need me to do?
Craven: Come here and feel and see if you get the same pulse I am. It feels ok, but I wanna make sure that isn’t just me hoping…
Skylar does as she told, her own hands shaking a little as she does so. She places her fingers around the girls wrist and waits.
Skylar Hansen: I can't feel anything... If it’s there, it’s faint...
Her panic is evident in her voice.
Skylar Hansen: Am I doing it right? Please tell me I just felt it wrong... Please tell me she's ok!
He nods slowly as he picks up the shot.
Craven: Open her shirt, I’ve done this before.
Skylar nods and opens her shirt, exposing her bra beneath, her eyes wide in her panic, fear pulsing through her.
Craven: Ok… here goes…
He stabs the needle into her chest and the woman sits up screaming.
Craven: If you can here me… God I’m gonna hate myself for this but… say something…
Still seemingly in shock, the girl barely manages to look up.
Girl: Like Pulp Fiction?
Skylar Hansen: She's ok Rick... We saved her!
Tears of happiness are present in Sky's eyes.
Skylar Hansen: Are you ok love? How do you feel?
Girl: What...happened?
She glances around nervously.
Girl: Where am I and who are you people?
Craven nods slowly.
Craven: It’s a long story…
- - - - - -
Craven sits in his car outside Riggsy’s, a bar/pool hall a few miles off the strip in Las Vegas, Nevada, watching again as his mark, a woman calling herself Mercedes Graves, enters the bar as she has every other night he’s watched for the last five weeks. As she disappears inside, Craven reaches up and switches his voice recorder on.
Craven: You always have to wonder, which is more illuminating about someone? I can look at somebody and tell a few things from how they appear but you always have to ask if it’s real, or if it’s a projection of something else? So which is more illuminating, what somebody chooses to show you voluntarily or what they choose to try and hide from you bubbling under the surface facade?
He pauses and he sees his mark step from the door and glance around nervously.
Craven: Take Miss Zing, for example. She chose to show some of her heritage this week, giving in-depth explanations of how she likes to think of herself as a particular weapon. It’s an interesting gaze into her psyche to see that she does think of herself that way, especially when you put it together with the skills she’s shown in the ring. She is quite obviously, a dangerous weapon but is she the one she sees herself as?
He shrugs as he watches Mercedes go back inside the bar.
Craven: Most people like to see themselves as a weapon. They see themselves as a something they consider really cool like a katana or a broadsword or a giant machine gun with endless ammunition. Video games have given us a whole spectrum of choices most of us wouldn’t even know existed unless we were somebody like Miss Zing, from a completely different culture with completely different choices to be had. The reality of the situation is that most people are not a big bad ass battle weapon with sharp edges that can slice everyone else to ribbons if given the opportunity.
He snortles to himself as he watches a somewhat dimwitted gentleman walk from the bar, clearly inebriated.
Craven: Most of the people in this world are like the gentleman I just watched leave an establishment he had clearly sampled the benefits of a little too extravagantly. That man was a dull, blunt force weapon that could be deadly in certain hands but has probably seen better days and would crack from the strain if it were pressed into service. I myself am probably not the greatest weapon, more like a small one with an edge to it. I can be used to do damage, but I probably won’t scare anyone off at first glance.
Mercedes staggers out the door and glances around, shaking ever so slightly as she rubs her arms up and down. She looks around some more and then hurries back inside.
Craven: Amy Zing is much like I am in that regard. She’s the switchblade hiding in a pocket or the Derringer hiding in places you never thought something like that could be concealed. She’s a butter knife that’s been sharpened on the side you can’t see and when she strikes, you wish you’d looked more closely before judging her.
He watches as the man he’d called Tweeter the previous evening walks into the bar.
Craven: And there’s my cue to start the karaoke…
He switches off the recorder as he starts singing.
Craven: Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Wrote the book of the seven seals
He steps from his car and makes his way to the door, shaking his head as he sees the place’s security guy passed out to the right of the sidewalk. He enters, still singing as he goes.
Craven: You know God walked down in the cool of the day
And called Adam by his name
And he refused to answer
'Cause he was naked and ashamed
Walking passed a fight by a video game, Craven makes his way towards the bar.
Craven: Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Wrote the book of the seven seals
Moving up to the bar, the keeper nods.
Craven: You know Christ had twelve apostles
Three he led away
He said, "Watch o’er me one hour
While I go yonder and pray"
As the sound of his singing reaches the bartender’s ears, he stops and shakes his head.
Bartender: Don’t want no trouble, Buddy.
Craven cocks his head, almost smiling.
Craven: Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Wrote the book of the seven seals
The bartender swallows hard, clearly unnerved.
Bartender: You here about that bitch, Mercy?
Craven nods even as he keeps singing.
Craven: Christ rose Easter morning
Mary and Martha they went down to see
Go tell My disciples
To meet Me in Galilee
The bartender nods and then points to the back room. Craven nods gratefully and makes his way across the bar to the door in question. He opens it to find Mercedes wobbling in a chair, the two dealers standing near her looking expectantly at her.
Craven: Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Tell me who's that writin', John the Revelator
Wrote the book of the seven seals
At the sound of his voice, they turn to meet him as he closes the door.
"Tweeter": Can we help you?
Craven nods to Mercedes.
Craven: How much?
The two dealers turn to each other and share a look of puzzlement before turning back to Craven.
"Tweeter": Owe or snorted?
Craven shrugs.
Craven: Both.
The dealer nods.
"Tweeter": Fifty… and too damn much.
Nodding, Craven glances at the girl and then back to the dealer.
Craven: Would you like to be paid or?
The dealer smirks with amusement.
"Tweeter": Or?
Shrugging, Craven starts peeling off bills.
Craven: Look man, I’m in a position to help you out here. I’m also in a position to, well, we don’t really need to get into that.
The dealer laughs.
"Tweeter": Did you really just give me the “easy way or the hard way” speech?
Craven just stares him down.
Craven: I was appealing to your business sense. I can satisfy her financial situation with you or you can let her die but neither of us really wants that because of all the physical labor and time that will be involved with you having a customer drop dead in here from using your product. And I don’t want because I then have to go back to the people I actually care about and tell them things they don’t want to hear. I’ll be unhappy, they’ll be unhappy and then you’ll be unhappy and none of us want that, do we?
The dealer frowns.
"Tweeter": Whatchu mean… dead?
Craven nods to Mercedes.
Craven: In ten seconds, she will probably get physically ill and make a mess. A few minutes after that, she will start sweating profusely and start looking like she has a really nasty case of the flu. A few more minutes after that, she will pass out and possibly start to convulse before her heart stops completely. Then you’ll have a corpse in here because she overdosed…
The dealer looks at her and quickly starts to panic.
"Tweeter": Shit, man… SHIT!!!!
Craven sighs heavily.
Craven: If you would allow me, I can settle her debt and then take her off your hands before she expires. Thus, if she goes, she will be my problem and not yours, what do you think of that idea?
The dealer quickly nods.
"Tweeter": Yeah man, hell yeah, that’s…
Craven quickly walks up to him and hands him the money.
Craven: Please count quickly…
The dealer quickly checks the money and nods.
"Tweeter": Yeah man, it’s all there…
Craven nods and the dealer nods back.
"Tweeter": Thank you, man…
Craven shrugs as he scoops up Mercedes.
Craven: Is there a back exit to his establishment that I could utilize to avoid endangering your business?
The second man nods and opens what looks like a closet door. Craven glances inside it and sees a second door that leads to the parking lot.
Craven: Pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen, let’s try not to make this…
He nods to Mercedes and her current condition.
Craven: A habit…
The two dealers nod as Craven carries Mercedes to his car. He quickly straps her into the passenger seat before taking his place in the driver’s seat. Less than half a minute later, the car leaves the parking lot and screams off into the night.
- - - - - -
Craven: So... that's what happened... he hit you and then you passed out.
Skylar Hansen: you were lucky he got to you when he did... Otherwise you'd be dead..
Craven: So… do we call you Mercy or Mercedes?
Before the girl can answer, the door opens and Rocket and Sin come walking into the room. Rocket nods, looking mildly amused that they have another girl in the place while Sin stops in her tracks. She gets a good look at the girl on the couch and then falls to her knees screaming.
Merlyn "Rocket" Harper: Cind? Cind, are you ok? CIND!!!!
The girl looks over from the couch.
Girl: Cind…. Cindy? Is that you?
Sin’s voice fades out as tears scream down her face. Skylar jumps and and runs over to Sin, wrapping her arms tight around her.
Skylar Hansen: Shhh, Sin, it’s ok, she's ok... We're all ok... Just breathe...
The girl’s eyes narrow as she stares at Sin.
Girl: It’s really you…
Craven looks from the girl to Sin and then back to the girl.
Craven: Do you know her?
The girl nods.
Girl: I used to.
Craven cocks his head.
Craven: Used to? So, you don’t know her from the PleasureDome?
The girl shakes her looking somewhat surprised.
Girl: She works there too?
Skylar cocks her head,
Skylar Hansen: Her and I both do. How do you two know each other?
Craven: You’re remembering now… aren’t you?
The girl nods.
Skylar Hansen: Are you feeling ok now Mercedes?
Sin frowns.
Cynthia "Sin" Conway: Mercedes?
The girl nods slowly.
Girl: It’s the name I use…
Craven nods knowingly.
Craven: But it’s not really your name, is it?
The girl shakes her head.
Girl: No… it was the kind of car…
Skylar frowns.
Skylar Hansen: So you've got two stage names?
The girl shakes her head.
Girl: Mercedes and Miss Mercy depending on who’s talking...
Craven: But you didn’t remember what your name was until now… did you?
The girl shakes her head.
Girl: No…
Skylar Hansen: What is your real name, Love?
Girl: Brittany…
Craven nods.
Craven: Brittany what?
Sin suddenly finds her voice.
Cynthia "Sin" Conway: Brittany Conway…
Skylar gapes putting two and two together.
Skylar Hansen: Brittany Conway? As in... But I thought...?
Sin crawls forward and reaches out.
Cynthia "Sin" Conway: Brittany… is that really…
The girl nods and she and Sin hug each other. Skylar looks over at Craven.
Skylar Hansen: Who knew right? Sisters... Guess they say everything happens for a reason.
Craven nods slowly.
Craven: Fraser had no idea. There was nothing for her as far as information. She was just, “Mercedes Graves.”
Skylar Hansen: Clearly a stage name if ever I heard one.
Brittany Conway: Comic books, she’s Lex Luthor’s secretary.
Skylar Hansen: Like I said, clearly a stage name. If you’re gonna pick a fake name, never go with anything out of literature, movies or anything like that, unless you wanna get found out.
Brittany Conway: There was nothing to find out, I was a Jane Doe. It was the first thing I saw, so it’s my legal name.
Skylar Hansen: You lost your memory?
Brittany nods.
Craven: And seeing Cindy…
Brittany nods again.
Skylar Hansen: How did you lose your memory? What happened? Can you remember?
Brittany Conway: I don’t remember much from before I woke up in the hospital. They told me I’d been in a car crash and hit my head real hard. They kept telling me somebody would be by to come get me and nobody ever came.
Sin hugs her.
Cynthia "Sin" Conway: I’ve missed you… so… much…
Brittany hugs her and then suddenly looks up in terror.
Brittany Conway: Oh my God, what am I gonna do… that Tweeter and…
Craven nods.
Craven: Paid…
Skylar Hansen: Rick would never leave you unsafe. If not paying the bill meant you were unsafe, he'd tend to it. He's good like that.
Cynthia "Sin" Conway: Can we keep her?
Skylar:Sin... She's not a puppy. And yeah, if she wants to stay, I'm sure we can work something out.[/color]
Brittany can’t help but laugh.
Brittany Conway: I have a place.
Craven nods.
Craven: It’s like a block away from you guys.
Sin frowns.
Cynthia "Sin" Conway: The apartment or the house?
Craven: House.
Skylar Hansen: Nice little neighborhood we're building here, PleasureDome, my place, her place your place, all not far from each other.
Craven: Funny how that worked out, huh?
Skylar Hansen: Yeah... Kinda funny indeed.
Craven nods and smiles as the little family reunion continues. After fifteen minutes, he excuses himself and dials a number.
Craven: Fraser, Craven, the situation is resolved for the moment. Her name is Brittany Conway.
He pauses and then nods at Fraser’s reaction.
Craven: Yes, THAT Brittany Conway.
