Xaviers!

She could of course puzzle out that if the keys unlocked the books, they also unlocked other things in here...

But that begged the question: Why would he need tools to get open things he already had access to?

The Burglar held out the book for her to take.

"It's in here."

She nods, "Thank you." She opens the book and leafs through it, not really viewing the memory so much as trying to get a sense of the memory's place.

Basil stored this one in the same location he stores all memories related to performances: The Theatre of Veils.

Must have been another building in theme with the cityscape Basil seemed to have built here.
However, there was another scribbling on the page made hastily in what appeared to be handwriting instead of printed text.

Marconi.

She looks at the scribbling, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Do you recognize this?" She shows it to the Burglar.

"It's in our handwritting, but I don't remember writing it.

Guglielmo Marconi is sometimes credited at the invenor of the radio. The company he founded would later to go on to found the BBC. He replied. Apparently librarian mode was deeply ingrained in Basil's psyche.

"Yes, of course," she nods, "Where is the Theatre of Veils?"

"Not far from here, in the better part of the city. I could take you there if you like. " He was probably only offering as to keep an eye on her.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble. I think we might find something there to do with this," she says, tapping the scribbled note.

He did not force her to put the book back in case she thought she may still need it, figuring he would return it himself later.

He would again begin leading The Seer, first leisurely out of the library, then in his reckless parkourish manner once outside.

There wasn't anything like the faceless woman on the short trip, but it was worth noting that again, everyone in his way moved for the Burglar, but not her. Perhaps they weren't so sure of her either.

When they got there, he'd push the door open and stride in first confidently.

The Theatre of Veils was the sort of rounded affair one saw in turn of the 20th century Edwardian affairs, not unlike the Queen's. However, unlike the Queen's, this theater was done up in silvers and greys and a shade of purple so dark it was almost blue.

The Burglar lead them to a second row seat, and threw his feet over the chairback in front of him. He produced a programme from nowhere which bore the moodiest black and white photograph of Basil on its cover, perfect for the inside cover of a 1980s album.

"Soooooooo karaoke night was it? Sure you don't want to watch something better?"

"Since that's the most recent incident, it's likely to have the clearest markers. No one's memory is as good as they claim it is." She sits in the seat next to him, taking the program and perusing it.

The programme listed other times Basil had performed all the way since he was a child. There were a lot of entries, including his own Bar Mitzvah, varying from legitimate performances to instances in which he was just being particularly hammy that day.

"You're probably right, though there's been better perfomances."

Nevertheless , he played the requested memory on stage for her to see.

Melissa pays less attention to the details of the memory itself and more attention to the substance surrounding the memory like personal feelings and the like, looking for signs that there might be some telepathy involved.

Basil was a show off. That was the first thing Melissa would notice.

There was an abundance of confidence being tempered by an overwhelming urge to be acknowledged and a need to please oddly attached to the first part of the memory.

When he thinks Colette sees him, everything shifts. Now he feels extremely satisfied with himself just to have her looking at him. That's when he turns visible.

And that's when Melissa feels it, like Morse code on her psyche.

.... . .-.. .-.. --- -.-.--

It was so very subtle, most would miss it entirely if they weren't seeking it out.

She gets a thoughtful look and raises her hand to pause the memory, "Play a different memory if you would. Another time when he became visible."

The Burglar had to think about that for a moment.

"I'll need to let it in, it doesn't belong here. A moment if you would..." The avatar stood and Riker'd over the row in front of him, then climbed up onto the stage with a hand stand.

Walking towards the back of the stage, he pulled back a curtain to reveal a door, then carefully sorted through his key ring, taking off the lockpicking tools.

He had it open in an instant, and pulled a bed on wheels, upon which another invisible Basil sat, waiting patiently for Colette.

Again, the moment he went visible, she could feel it, but this time it was even weaker than before.

The unusual thing though was when he disappeared, the message changed.

--. --- --- -.. -... -.-- .

Then it stopped completely.

She tries to get a better sense of the signal, trying to place it in the rest of his mind.

Placing this is harder. It's sending out from somewhere else along Basil's mind but being that the memory is like a recording of what happened in the past, pinning it down is difficult.

It acts as a background noise to the rest of the scene. Only a very skilled and highly trained telepath would have noticed it at this dying frequency.

"Okay," she says, "You can send this one home. Has the city had any active transmitting towers lately?"

The Burglar paused and stared at her for several moments before replying.

"Not where I can travel." He replies, but the tone and Melissa's intuition states there's something he isn't telling her.

He dithered, then relented.

"If there's something I don't know about, it's out in the fog. Even I don't wander into the fog alone. Who knows what is hiding out there. I can't let you go out there by yourself."

"I really don't want anyone to go in there to be perfectly frank." His body-weight shifted and he sighed.

"But if that's where it's hiding, then you and I will have to go with the ladies into the fog.

I hate the fog." He concluded, as if that somehow changed what needed to be done.

"Alright. " He didn't leave the theatre to summon them, he knew somehow they'd already been listening.

He called in his fashion and they arrived in theirs, through solid walls and objects like ghosts to their master.

"Are we ready then?"

She rises from her seat and nods, "Lead the way."

The Burglar and the group wanted together. They stopped when he did. A few of them circled back on The Seer curiously, perhaps by some non-verbal signal they had been given as it wasn't likely they were entirely autonomous.

It took longer to get there than the theatre, but once they made it, he stopped at the edge of the fog. It went straight up, as if there was some invisible wall between it and the city. Plunging a hand or a foot into it didn't disturb it at all.

"They understand better in there..." He stated to her, before disappearing into the obscuring mist. Once he was in, she could no longer see him while she was out. All of the imaginary women followed him in and were no longer seen either.

Melissa follows him, a sword swirling into being in her right hand. She radiates an aura of calm competence.

When she stepped in, she would find them right there. She couldn't see far ahead of her, but she could atleast see the group of them bickering.

"Come and play Basil!" One called out, pulling on the Burglar's arm.

"I said I can't right now. We're not here for fun. We need to find something.

And you have to help us."

"Why?" asked another.

"Because we think it might have something to do with helping Basil," the Seer says, sticking her nose directly into their business.

"What kind of help? Is he sick?"

"We can make him feel better." another answered, smirking.

Basil wasn't saying anything, but The Seer could feel is resolve wavering already.

The Seer pushes her way through the girls and rests a steadying hand on Basil's shoulder. "We won't know until we find it and we cannot find it by lingering here," she says reproachfully.

"Pshh... Your new friend is boring. Bring back the last three, the prudish ginger was good for a laugh at least."

He responded physically to The Seer's touch, pulling away a bit from her tone.

"I will help you Basil." A girl with dark hair steps forward. "However I can."

What are we looking for?" One of the previous blondes asks.

Many of the female figures scatter back out of the fog. They have no interest in the Seer anymore, or in this game.

But several stay, and think hard about what she might be talking about.

"I might know what you're talking about." One pipes up.

"Sometimes when we're alone in the city at night, we can see lights in the fog. Sometimes we go and find them, and sometimes we don't.

Recently we've been seeing a different light."

The few remaining women look at each other, then make circles like children trying to find something that is lost.

"We would but it's not on right now." She explains. "We don't know what provokes the green light, and that's why we have yet to follow it.

Maybe if Basil could turn it on for us we could see it and take you there?"

In the real world, Melissa's voice sounds a bit distant. "Basil, I'm going to need you to focus on how you feel when Colette sees you like she did at the karaoke night. Can you do that for me?"

In Basil's head, the Seer fades for a bit before returning to solidity. "Let's watch. Maybe something will happen now."