Getting The Pawns On The Board


elisabeth2_icon.gif mortimer_icon.gif

Scene Title Getting The Pawns On The Board
Synopsis A chance encounter brings possible contacts into play.
Date Jan 25, 2010

Nite Owl

There's something to be said about complete and utter boredom with life; it often makes you do things, like sit in a diner in the middle of the morning, sipping a beer while reading The Hound of the Baskervilles. He's hunched over on his stool, wearing a grayish green trenchcoat with jeans and a pair of black boots on. Not many people come to a bar to read, but it's nice to get out and not be a complete bookworm.

It's been a while since Elisabeth has been in. Again. She gets the hairy eyeball from the owner — the kind of hairy eyeball that a wayward child gets for not coming around enough. There's a conversation at the end of the counter, and Liz walks away with a tired smile and a cup of strong coffee, sliding into the booth in the corner behind Mortimer, not realizing who is sitting there. She's losing her edge or something.

Mortimer certainly caught her, often keeping track of who comes into the diner, just in case. Elisabeth is one of those strange memories, like Cassidy, where he can fuzzily remember Jack's life, before the complete fracture of minds. He reads his book for a while longer, and just out of the blue he asks, "So, how's Cassidy?" without looking back.

It takes a long moment for Elisabeth to look up, and her brows pull down. Last time she ran into Mortimer, he seemed sane. And then she heard he wasn't anymore. So which is it? "She's great," she finally replies. "I hear there's some talk of getting married…. she's apparently expecting. Putting her life back together nicely, from what I can tell."

"She's…" Mortimer sounds as if his heart just kind of… dropped, and sighs down into his book. "That's… good." He at least seems sane, but it's clear he could have heard better news. "I'm glad she's happy. I just wish I could have explained everything to her. But, that's life, I guess."

Elisabeth studies his back and she smiles faintly. "Sometimes, Mortimer…. all you can hope is that other people are safe and happy." She sounds like she knows what she's talking about. "You're laying low still?"

"I'm not exactly on the run. Police think I'm dead, and I have control of, well, my other half," Though Mortimer's only assuming she heard about that, so doesn't bother elaborating as he sips his beer. "So no one's getting murdered or anything. I still have a gang, which I guess is more like a cult. We don't do anything, but they just seem to hang out. I feel like the leader of an after school program. I have guys in biker gear arguing about stocks and watching football. It's kind of scary though, 'cause I know they'll die if I told them to. I don't know how Jack copes with that kind of power…"

Leaning back in her booth, awaiting breakfast, Elisabeth frowns slightly. "Probably not the same way any other person does — see, most normal people when they have other people depending on them? They are careful with what they ask for. Especially when you're talking people who'll kill on instruction. He wasn't so careful. I hope you're more so." She glances at her watch. "The police will not think you're dead for long if you keep having a beer in a cop diner, though."

"Plenty of guys who look like me, and I'm not walking around in biker gear. But you're right, I could be hanging out in better places. I thought I needed to get out. When Jack's not at the wheel, I spend almost all my time reading. Don't have much in the way of friends, lost most of those due to being crazy." Mortimer turns a page, resting his back against the seat. "Can't exactly make any either, same reason, so, yeah. It's kind of like being a ghost. Nice to talk to you though, at least I don't have to worry about hiding it."

"Let me ask you something…. how often are you the one in control?" Because Elisabeth's curious. And if she remembers right, this guy had contact with Cardinal. He could prove useful. Maybe. If he's not a complete psychotic. Mmm… maybe not.

"It's a long story, but, one thing led to another, and now we have this understanding. We can communicate, I can control him if I feel like he's gonna do something bad, and he can control me if he feels like our life is in danger. We have a few more rules, but that's it in a nutshell." Mortimer turns around so he can actually see her, smiling at the sight of a familiar face. "Since we had our ability stolen, I don't think he's nearly as crazy as he used to be. But I guess the fact that I'm talking about myself in plural and the third person kind of says a lot…"

Elisabeth mmmms quietly. "That could prove… useful. You folks still out on Staten?" she asks thoughtfully.

"And to answer your question more directly, it kind of depends, I mean, how often I'm in control. Sometimes he takes a whole day, sometimes I do. There's times when we can be conscious while the other is in control, so I can see what he's doing, and vice versa. He's, well, 'asleep' right now, otherwise I'm sure he'd be going on about how we should totally bang you." Mortimer just shrugs helplessly, though he smiles, slightly amused. "Not that I'd disagree. But anyway, we've been slowly moving to a backup hideout, since FRONTLINE's about to storm Staten, and our tactical guys say it won't be safe much longer, even staying underground. Our other facility is a lot more secure, and I was getting tired of having a sports lounge anyway."

The blonde's body language goes from casually curious to stiff and outraged in two seconds flat, her tone ice cold. "Mortimer…. considering the fact that you and your alter ego had a thing for one of my very best friends as of oh, about three seconds ago? The next time you suggest 'banging' me, I might be forced to bang you — or rather, your FACE into the COUNTER." She glares at him, but turns her attention to the business at hand. "Good, I'm glad you're evacuating Staten. I was about to warn you to do that myself."

"It makes me feel like someone's trying to rip my heart out whenever I think of Cassidy. I miss her, but, I can't live like I'm hung up on her. Considering I'm already fucking nuts, I don't think being hung up on someone who's completely moved on is the best life decision." Mortimer doesn't seem all that angry at her response, he just kind of gives her a look of understanding and nods. "I think I'm the only one who kept the feelings for her, I'm not sure how that works. My other half is hung up on someone named Lola, I can't stand her. She's some Cajun girl. I'm sorry though, for making the pass. I didn't know you and her were like, that close."

Oh for Christ's sake, you have got to be kidding. "The assassin chick?" Elisabeth blurts. Then she just shakes her head. "Never mind, I don't want to know." She shrugs. "We were." She leaves it at that. "It's harder to keep in touch nowadays, but… she's happy." There's a pause. "Listen… I'm pretty sure we had a mutual acquaintance. Went by Redbird on a pretty regular basis. Sound familiar?"

"Something like that." Mortimer answers to the question of 'the assassin chick'. He scratches his head at the mention of 'Redbird', brows creasing in thought. "Doesn't sound familiar, unless Jack knew this person. We have completely different memories, depending on how long ago it was. Any other names, or a description?"

Oh, interesting. Elisabeth didn't know that. "Nope. Just … share that with Jack the next time he wakes, I guess. If it doesn't ring a bell for him either, then what I'd been going to say doesn't matter. If it does and he wants to know," she says as she reaches for a napkin to scribble on, "You can give him this number to contact." She hands him the napkin and eyes him. "Don't abuse the fact that you've got my phone number, Mortimer."

"I'm not him, I know how to handle business. But I can say he only had one contact that knew Cassidy, and since you knew Cassidy, well, that's about my only clue." Mortimer reaches for his cell after taking the number and dialing it in, then goes to a completely different number, holding it up for her to see. It's the one contact, named Reaper Guy, on a list of other arbitrary names. "He listed names as what he saw when his ability made him hallucinate." It's one of Cardinal's numbers.

An eyebrow shoots up as she skims the list and Elisabeth says, "Yeah…… nice to know he thought Redbird was Reaper Guy." Later that might amuse her. "Let him know that he's dead. I'm not sure what other contact they may have had together, but if he used Redbird for anything else…. tell him he can go through me." She finishes her coffee and moves to slide out of the booth. "I'm not NYPD anymore, so no worries on that front, okay?"

"Sure, that's fine. But, while he is on a leash now, he's still crazy. All I'm asking is, well, please don't punch him in the nose? It's my nose too." Mortimer snickers, rising from his seat after finishing his beer, sliding the cell back into his pocket, and closing the book. "Come to think of it, I have this one very vague memory of the first time we met the guy. It's vague because it's one of the memories before we fractured. This Redbird guy had something to do with when we blew up Primatech, but I can't remember the details. You'll have to ask Jack."

Her brows furrow together as he says that, and Elisabeth looks thoughtful. "I will. Thanks for the heads up." She smiles a bit. "I can see what Cassidy liked about the sane version of you," she admits. "I'll try to keep that in mind when the insane version of you pisses me off." There's a soft chuckle as she walks out of the diner.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License