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Who: Sam and Tamara
What: Tamara has some questions she needs to ask Sam. Then an echo happens and confusion will probably ensue!
When: Saturday, noon-ish
Where: The Dish and the Spoon, a trendy cafe near LCU.

[Sam takes a deep breath as he steps into the cafe, fiddling with his phone in his pocket. Tamara had, for some reason, asked to meet in person. Somewhere public, she said, but they would need to be careful not to let anyone overhear.

Sam had been the one to recommend The Dish and the Spoon. It was a popular place to hang out at near the campus, so it was almost always busy and filled with people talking. If you managed to grab a table that was off to the side, and made sure not to talk too loud, it was really difficult for anyone to eavesdrop without being really obvious about it. He'd taken several girls he'd known in the past to the cafe for a casual date. The food is pretty good but not too expensive (a relief for him, since his mother isn't around to cook), and it's a pretty good place for some cheeky flirting...

Not that he has any expectations for that sort of thing from Tamara. She's already made it pretty clear that she doesn't care much for him (despite the occasional mixed signal when she's actually a little nice). If she wanted to have some sort of private discussion, it probably has something to do with the Network and related business...which puts him a little on edge. He's been a bit jumpy about drawing too much attention to himself ever since the visit from the detective.

He doesn't think he sees her at the moment, so he starts mindlessly wandering over to an empty table in an out-of-the-way corner. He pulls out his phone and looks down at the screen with the excuse of rereading her message to him...although really, it's mostly just an attempt to calm his nerves.

Of course, walking and reading a text at the same time is rarely a good idea...]

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[This whole thing really had been a stupid idea. But others had spoken of trying to purposely induce one of those visions to show up and the best way seemed to be to actually meet a person who was seen in them. She didn't know any of the other men, but Sam definitely looked a lot like one of them. At the very least he may know something she doesn't and maybe she can get another piece of the story.

Tamara arrives a bit after him and quickly darts off to the side to get out of the way of the entrance and see if she can find Sam at all. She does look a bit different from normal today. When one has an ability to grow their hair long and cannot quite control it yet, something needs to be done to hide that. So she's pinned her hair up and is wearing a cute hat to go with her dress. It's not perfect, but the pins have been doing a good job of at least giving her some warning.]

[Meanwhile Sasame's claimed the corner-table with some heavy-looking psychology textbooks and a laptop. You know, just as a cover. It's around the time that everyone at school is preparing for finals, after all, so it's not unusual to see people getting together to study.

That task done, he gets up from the table and starts to head over to the line to the register to place an order. As he does, he's still nervously fiddling the phone, occupying himself with counting how many times in the message she says something along the lines of "this is not a date." Just how desperate does she think he is, anyway? She must really, really not like him...

Which is fine. He can deal with that. They're practically strangers, after all.

Predictably, all of that fiddling with his phone while not watching where he's going causes him to bump into a girl in a cute outfit and a hat.]

Ah! Sorry. I was zoning out. Are you all right?

[She wanted to be sure there was no room for misunderstanding since meeting a man for lunch could easily be construed as a date unless there were others with them. But yes, it was probably a few too many times she said that.

She's still looking around for him. She had been running a bit late so he must have grabbed a table already, right? And then someone bumps into her. She sees right away who it is, though she'd recognized his voice. She actually had pictures of him so it wasn't hard to recognize him. He really did look amazingly like the person she was when she touched the statue.]

I'm fine. I was too busy looking for someone and was probably in the way.

[He had some sort of response for her--but he forgets it instantly as soon as he sees the girl's face.

His heart thuds in his chest as his mind suddenly flashes up an image. A girl with the same face. He wasn't looking where he was going and ran into her as he turned a corner. Her lips curve into a polite, distant smile as her green eyes study him for a moment, then turn away. Her body language says nothing but "I'm being polite, but you're a stranger to me."

But she's NOT a stranger. He's sure of that. He wouldn't feel the way he does when he sees her if she was someone he didn't know. It HURTS to see her. It feels like his heart is breaking, worse than anything he's ever experienced. His heart is filled with bitter, angry emotions that threaten to choke the life out of him. He failed, and he hates himself for it. He wants to lash out and blame other people but he knows deep down that the fault is his. He's desperate to find a way to fix what he's done--and that thought fills him with dread because he knows that he'd do anything to do it, and he knows he should resist, but he can't take it anymore.

Sam pales as the images fade and stares at the girl like he's seen a ghost.]

Who are--?

[Wait, he knows that voice. He's always been good at remembering the voices of others.]

Are you Tamara?

[It is indeed difficult to miss that sort of an expression. Something just happened and she knows it. The question is, what was it that he saw or heard or whatever?]

I am. And I would guess that you are Sam, right?

[He nods, then smiles...but his complexion hasn't recovered its color yet. Tamara might notice that the hand holding his phone is shaking, although once he realizes it he quickly hides it by putting his phone back into his pocket and keeping his hand there.]

Hey! I found you! Yeah, that's me. It's nice to meet you in person. I saved us a table. [He points over to the table where his books are resting.] Have you eaten lunch yet? I was just about to go order something for myself.

[She most definitely notices. And while Tamara may not be the best at interacting in person with men, she's good at excuses on the fly and he really looks shaken. She's not a horrible enough person to just ignore it entirely, especially when she may be at fault.]

I haven't eaten yet. Why don't you go sit and make sure no one takes your books and I'll go order for both of us.

Oh...you're sure? [He considers protesting that for a second, but then decides against it. Taking a seat and collecting himself for a moment would actually be helpful. So he reaches into his other pocket and pulls out his wallet so he can hand her some cash.]

Okay. Could you get me some chicken noodle soup and a large green tea?

[That was exactly her plan, to give him a reasonable excuse to collect himself and make some sense of whatever happened. Though at the same time, it could be risky because it will give a chance to become defensive about it. But that's not too likely, he's more friendly than she is.]

All right. Chicken noodle soup and a large green tea, got it. [And once he gives her enough to cover it, she'll go put in the order.]

[He carefully counts out enough money to cover his share and hands it to her with a grateful smile, then retreats over to the table, purposefully taking the seat that will have his back to most of the people in the room.

As soon as he sinks into his chair, he lets out a long sigh and leans forward, resting his head against hand and supporting it with his elbow on the table. The foreign emotions from the vision are slowly starting to fade, but his mood is still effectively ruined. Just who the hell is she, anyway? Why would just seeing her set off a vision like that? He's almost completely sure he's never met her before in his life.

That British guy on the Network had mentioned something about past lives before. Maybe he was right? ...No, no way. Can't be. Right?

In the back of his mind he thinks to himself that he should probably try to compose himself before Tamara gets back. Honestly, he'd rather know what it is she wants to talk about than have her ask any questions he isn't prepared to answer. She was acting pretty normally so she probably didn't even notice, right? Yeah, he's good at covering up when he's upset. She probably didn't even notice.

He takes another deep breath and then straightens in his seat, then flips one of his text books to a random page and pretends to study it.]

[She does take the money and walks off. There isn't a huge line or anything, so it doesn't take her too long to get the order placed. She orders a salad for herself and also green tea to drink. Definitely a large enough salad so one wouldn't think she's one of those girls always on a diet, she just likes salads.

She comes back with their food and is hoping he hasn't composed himself to the point of coming up with some lie to explain what happened. She sets down the food and then takes a seat in the air chair. She's glad that he is mostly blocking anyone's view of her.]

Good, you look better now. You were white as a sheet before, what happened?

[Damn, she noticed. He stares blankly at her for a moment as he scrambles to try to come up with some sort of cover, but it doesn't take him long to resign himself to telling her at least some of the truth. It did involve her...even if it made him really uncomfortable.

He pauses for a moment and stirs his soup with his spoon as a way to delay while trying to come up with the right way to put it.]

Well...you know how those of us with numbers sometimes have...visions? I think I just had one.

[Wow, if that was hard enough to talk about, just wait until she mentions what she saw when touching the statue.

While he's talking about that, she's putting dressing on her salad and mixing it up all nice so the dressing is mixed in well.]

And it involved me somehow, right? Because when I touched the statue I saw something that showed you.

[His eyes widen.] Are you serious? [He pauses to take a bite of soup. It was a good idea to order comfort food--his stomach is doing flip-flops.] ...Did it feel like a memory, when it happened?

[It would seem she was right from that reaction. She'll take a couple of bites of salad while she tries to think up how to respond to that. Truly, she was a bit too disturbed to consider what it felt like.]

I'm not so sure and I prefer not to think about it too much. Before I thought it was just some sort of story I'm getting pieces of, but now I can do what I saw myself do in that and it isn't something a normal person could do.

So you were using some sort of ability in the--[the memory? No, he's still not comfortable thinking of them like that.] The vision?

I was. Were you using any in what you just saw, or previous ones? [Because she's curious if he's seen things she hasn't. The whole thing feels like a puzzle and they don't know how many pieces it has, but they only have a couple and none of them fit together yet.

And maybe she'll mention the abilities she saw being used in her own.]

[He shakes his head.] No, nothing like that. All I've gotten is vague things that are out of context. Words and imagery, that sort of thing. [And a sudden punch of emotion.] I don't have any abilities, and I haven't seen anyone use any in my memories, either.

Vague would be fitting. Until this last one I couldn't get any idea who all the people were I saw. [She pauses for a moment, because really she doesn't want to bring up this part, but probably should.]

In what you just saw, did you see me as an enemy?

[There's something he wasn't expecting to hear. He frowns.] No, I don't think so. But...[Then he hesitates. He really, really, really doesn't like admitting when something is bothering him, but she already figured out that he'd been shaken by what he saw, and it might help them put together what's going on.]

I wasn't very happy when I saw you, either.

The same was true in mine. I don't know how real or not these things we see are, but I can't deny that now with being able to do what I did there. So I just want to say I'm sorry for hurting you in it.

Hurting me? [Okay, now he's really curious. Does she just mean emotionally, or did something happen in the memory she saw? But he doesn't want to push her to tell him, either. It doesn't seem like either of them have particularly happy visions concerning the other.]

You don't have to apologize. We still don't even really know if the people we're seeing are actually "us," and even if we once were them, we're not anymore, right?

Hurting you. As in I outright attacked you. Whatever it all means, it is obvious I'm the villain of the story being played out in this and I don't even know why. [Or even how they all fit together. The memories just seem disjointed and like she cannot even decide what she wanted in them.]

Hmm. Maybe, but in the vision I saw, I didn't think of you as a villain. I was angry, but...not with you.

Do you know who or what you were angry with? I've seen some other people, but no one else that seems familiar.

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