Angela Stewart “The Witness” and Valeria Nicole Alvarez-Knight
Warning: Switching POVs
Proceed at Your Own Risk
It was a lovely spot I’d found myself as I watched a parade of power and pageantry from the middle 1870s. I guessed at the time period based on the fact one of those powerful men I saw was W.F. Havemeyer and he looked as if he were in his third term by his age. Then I heard it, a voice from the now and they were addressing me, at least I thought it was me;
"Hey there, I’m new here. Name’s Valeria. How about you?"So I focused on the now, making that dream world I’d been observing fade smoother than a Hollywood transition to the the modern day. I had been in the old world, in what I called my
fallback, and coming back to reality made me foolishly gasp so the pretty coffee-with-cream woman might think I was startled, which I was. You see, when coming back to the now, I get swamped briefly by the life force of the world.
"Oh, hello, Valeria, it's my third visit but Derrick said the other two didn’t count because I didn’t talk to anyone more than 30 seconds." I just blurt out like she knows who Derrick is, and only while dwelling on how spacey I must sound do I realize I didn’t say my own name, so once more I rush headlong into making a case for the Space Ace I must seem to be.
"Sorry, my friends call me Angie, Angel, but the girls at MCDougal's call me Sista Spooky after some comic book hero girl…my real name’s Angela"
I felt my brows raise and a bemused smile form as the woman in front of me gasped, as if astonished someone had approached her at all.
"Uh, sorry for startling you…?" I trailed off on a questioning note and listened to her rambling introduction.
"Angie it is then," I offered a short chuckle and hoped it came across as good-natured rather than awkward or nervous. I’m usually perfectly fine chatting to strangers, but I have to admit Angela here had thrown me for a loop just a bit, scattering some random info at me like you’d see a lonely retiree do with breadcrumbs to pigeons.
"Derrick’s a friend? Does he come here too?" I asked, letting my gaze flit from male to male briefly. As soon as I did, I realized that if he were there, Angie
probably wouldn’t have been standing by her lonesome. I could smack myself, the idiot that I was.
Then, eager to find out more, I couldn’t help but shoot the question I’d been itching to ever since Angela introduced herself.
"Why spooky?" There it was, the chance to find out what kind of freakishness the other folk got going for them. I know I sounded overly curious, but that was the real reason I had decided to visit. I didn’t want to be by myself in the weird corner, trying to figure out if I was crazy or not and which would be worse.
"Well that’s because of my talent, I can look into the past and I help the police solve capital cases. Mostly though, I work Lost and Found, pets, jewelry, children, and people with special needs. The spooky part of my talent is when you walk down a sidewalk, you see the scenery and the now, me I see what has happened there before and it's usually the bad stuff.
Lot of murders in this city and they leave lingering traces I don’t even need to focus on. I can’t walk within 5 blocks of the Towers." I told her then realized I hadn’t told anyone but Derrick about the Towers.
Or the Burning of the Normandie where the Port Authority Passenger Ship Terminal; this city was filled with stories and for me, they were all there to Witness.
"Oh, holy fuck!" I exclaimed. There was only one thing the Towers comment could refer to.
"You get to see the bombin’ live when you get too close? Fuck, girl, I only remember some from the TV and the panic back then was huge…An’ here I thought I had it rough," I whispered that last sentence to myself, now torn between relief that, Hell, yeah, this abilities shit was something others dealt with too, and guilt that I could feel anything positive-like at the messed up fuckery Angie had to be going through daily. I couldn’t even begin to imagine seeing murders every day, and what was worse, not getting to do shit about them.
"Damn…I bet you get to spend a lot of time in the past if you can’t control that BS, huh? Shit, I don’t know how you handle knowing sick murdering fucks are out there and then don’t get to catch ‘em all. Hell, I get pissed just thinking about it. Or maybe you’re like one of those noir detectives, all hardened and tough, calm and analytical but all bitter," I pondered loudly, then realized I had just spewed out whatever came to mind, and might have been rude. I can’t always tell.
But since I thought speculation like that could probably get on someone’s nerves, I apologized best as I could.
"Hey, just shut me up if I get too pushy, I just never met someone like me before this, obviously, so uh, yeah, here I go rambling again." I gave Angela a chagrined grin, briefly looking away and down from her, making as if I had to put one of the short black locks of hair outta my eyes in what was pretty blatantly a nervous gesture. Man, that would be just my luck (
Manners, Valeria Nicole I could hear my mother’s voice ringing in my head) alienating the first person I’d talked to here.
Strange, she focused on my nickname Sista Spooky. But then, maybe that would be normal for most people.
"It’s something I’ve had time to get used to, my first manifestation was when I was 9 years old. I put on a jacket belonging to Sally Fisher and suddenly her mom was hitting me and I was in Sally’s house.
It was the teacher that became my problem because she thought I’d cracked and so did the of administrators at the school so they called an ambulance…… sorry I was rambling about the past." I said, realizing I was about to tell this woman I’d just met my life history.
"I know people think I’m strange, and it's not far from the truth, I am weird. I suppose it comes with being gifted." I was going to say more, but was suddenly caught off guard by a wolf running through the alleys of a neighborhood.
I have to admit, Angie's answer only confirmed my suspicion, or should I say rambling association, that the PI fit the noir detective stereotype to a t. Though...she did tell me yet more about herself. At this point, I couldn't tell if that was just some kind of a habit of Angel's or if she felt somehow more comfortable speaking to me than she would have to someone else.
"I don't mind you sharing, it's interesting stuff, yo." I encouraged her after she apologized to me. Then she said she knew she was weird so matter-of-factly, I immediately felt a renewed wave of guilt, coming and going like a slow tide playfully crashing into my shins. I ignored the feeling though, since Angie didn't seem to mind, much.
"Oh, never-mind that. You know there's that saying, what is it...It's a normal reaction to an unnatural situation? Something along those lines. If you were all chipper and excited even with all the bad crap your power gets you, that would be weird," I reassured her.
We were still standing around, chatting to each other, when Dr. Slate started the meeting. I suggested we move to sit down, and we found two seats next to each other, intent on continuing our conversation. I introduced myself when it was my turn to do so, but Angela didn't. I wasn't sure if she was still there with the rest of us. She'd gotten that far-away look again, the same kind I saw on her before I greeted her. Was she seeing a memory of something right now? Should I do anything or was just waiting fine? On an impulse (probably a stupid one, but we can't all be perfect), I touched Angela's shoulder, saying
"Hello?" as I did so.
While I was fluttering in Fallback, Val touched me and was drawn in; the scene I was watching was of a Wolf chasing a cat, but the former did not seem interested in eating the cat, and was instead simply enjoying the chase.
I felt relaxed at the scene, my expression neutral right till the moment I noticed Val and became concerned.
"Val, you are touching me, and if this all is too much for you, all you need to do is remove your hand or back up if you are touching me with any other part of your body."
As soon as I touched Angela, I thought I had somehow relocated back outside, only this time without my warm jacket, wearing only the - awesome but not winter-proof - tiger-print hoodie. I had time enough only to think that the cold I was feeling probably couldn't be countered by
any clothes. The next thing I saw was a wolf chasing a cat in an alleyway. I don't think the wolf was me (hadn't I mentioned? I get to wolf-out as part of my superpower). It was quite the pleasant scene, but Angela grew concerned as soon as she saw me.
"Nah, it's fine, for now. But thanks for the info," I said, flattered at her concern for me. I blinked a few times as I caught the never-ending darkness, a gaping abyss of nothingness behind her, and admitted (if only to myself) that her concern might have had grounds enough. But I wasn't about to get scared of something so simple.
I wanted to reassure her again, but Angela seemed like she wanted to say something else. However, she only let out a sudden high-pitched shriek. It may have been a short one, but I was alarmed at once. I saw her eyes rolling back, her body sag, and before I consciously realized what was happening, I moved to stand behind Angela on instinct to support her body weight as she fainted. She was pale - sickly so. Equally concerning was the scene shifting. It was jagged, as if someone from the outside had suddenly teleported us to a cave, physically and mentally.
I knew that we were actually in a cave because just as we arrived, I caught Slate's statement that we were all in some kind of a mental simulation. I wasn't a fan.
"Oh, fuck this effin' BS, man, you don't do goddamn' crisis-situation team-building with a bunch of strangers," I grumbled to myself. Then I hefted the still unconscious Angela over my shoulder's in a fireman's carry, and followed the potent people scent, not at all bothered by the lack of lighting. I could easily enhance my senses even as a human if I wanted, but I had to imagine being a wolf without actually shifting, so it took pretty much all my concentration - and I still wasn't able to prevent both fangs and claws from popping out, so anyone who looked close enough would see the weirdness. Changing fully into a wolf would have been simpler, but then I couldn't carry Angie.
Eventually, we made it to where most of the others were gathered in a place that had some freaky worms instead of lamps or even torches. Some of the others were panicking, some were both rude and trying to order around, and there was even a talking cat. I wondered if it was a shape-shifter like me.
"Heya, Ya'll. Don't you worry 'bout no monster, I can fend it off while you figure a way out. Someone'll just have to carry and keep watch over Angie here as long as she stays unconscious," I said, slurring my words a bit through my elongated front two fangs, the woman I was referring to still out of it and lying across my shoulders.
