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| Scene Title | Be A New Beginning |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Richard Cardinal and Bebe pay their respects to Tyler and Libby Case before they fade off into the sunset… |
| Date | August 5, 2009 |
Off The Coast of New York City
The Ferrymen call it the Clipper.
In a way, there's something fitting about the naming of this particular safehouse, if that's actually what it is. As the Casino Royale plies the waters of the Atlantic Ocean, with New York City's glow distant on the horizon, it is lights of a different kind that are a welcome beacon, the very silhouette of the Clipper itself, a houseboat perched just off the coast of the city, anchored in calm waters beneath the least vestiges of sunlight on this particularly quiet evening.
When the Royale gets within visual range of the boat, a spotlight on the distant vessel flashes a brief Morse message, one that Richard Cardinal was told to expect. Sign Three it requests in that unique language of starts and stops. To which the flicker of Richard's flashlight returns. Red Seven. The reply of a single flash back is confirmation that the code matched their records, allowing the Royale to pull up to the port side of the enormous boat.
"Allo' down there!" A soft French accent carries over the sound of boat engines from a dark-haired woman in a watchman's cap standing at the boat's edge. Certainly not Libby, too thin and too waifish, and most importantly too French. "Come on aboard!" Crewmen of the Clipper bring a docking plank across to the Casino Royale, brushed metal railing on the sides to ensure no one accidentally tips into the drink.
Behind the glow of spotlights, silhouettes of two men stand on the top of the yacht, visible armed with what looks like small-caliber rifles. The Ferrymen are nothing, if not prepared.
"Hail, the boat! It is a boat, right, not a ship? I've never really gotten that…" Cardinal's silhouette's seen in the spotlight as he clips the flashlight onto his belt, waiting for the plank to be laid across before stepping onto it to cross over the darksome abyss of the oceanic waters below. He keeps his hands away from his sides, lest someone get twitchy, the watchwoman flashed an easy smile, "…two comin' aboard. Everything alright out here, no trouble? …need any ice cream? I think the fridge is fucking packed with fudge ripple."
Bebe Dahl. Baby Doll. Barbara. Barbie. Skipper. For all the clever nicknames and alliterative euphemisms devised for her by other men, the young woman who pilots the modest yacht is content to call herself the captain of her own soul — invictus — if only in the strictly literal fashion for the time being. And, so what is maybe she went just a little bit overboard (no pun) with the grocery shopping in preparation to pay a visit to the man she'd only ever known in an iteration that was a decade ahead of his time— er, actually, maybe he was a decade behind? She's not really sure how that was all supposed to have worked.
Math is hard. She'd rather go shopping. For ice cream. And so she did.
"Size matters," she says to Cardinal grinningly before nudging him lightly with a little elbow, prodding him to help her ensure that the Royale's berth is secure ere they exit the boat only to find it missing upon their return.
"Limited space, monsieur," the dark haired Frenchwoman states with a quirk of a smile. "But you must well know your friend, he was asking for that very thing last night." The spotlight is turned off once Bebe and Cardinal make their way onto the deck of the ship, and the dark-haired woman tips her head in casual greeting. "Siobhan," she state in casual greeting, her boots clunking hard on the deck of the ship as she maintains an air of casual comfort on her own vessel.
Circling around the side of the ship, Siobhan directs Cardinal and Bebe towards a sitting area on the back of the vessel, where bench seating and tables make this look as much like the luxury boat it's supposed to be. But the two familiar faces sitting at one of the tables are hardly rich, but most assuredly famous in the terrorist circuit.
Tyler Case recognizes his guests with an awkward smile, resting a hand on the shoulder of a brunette woman seated at his side, one who bears a passing resemblance to Bebe, save for the more curly quality of her hair.
"If you need anything, jus' call up to me. You 'ave an hour, then we must depart." Ever moving, the Clipper is. And perhaps an hour will be too much time, given the people involved. As Siobhan takes a few steps back, Tyler begins his awkward approach from the table over to the pair. How does one say thank you for saving my life and helping me change history? "Um… Hey," somehow doesn't cut it.
"Richard Cardinal," is the name offered in return with a tilt of his chin up to the Frenchwoman, the bump of the elbow garnering an amused look sidelong to Bebe, "…what, you plan on eating all of it and turning into a whale or something? I'll have to eat some just to keep your svelte figure intact."
Then they're heading along through the house-boat, and Cardinal walks easy and unhurried, glancing around with casual interest at the floating safehouse. It's pretty cool, after all. He never would've thought of it, himself. The sight of the pair brings an easy smile to his lips, voice lifting in an easy call, "Hey you two. How's life at sea?"
"I'm Bebe," declares the young woman from somewhere just over Richard Cardinal's shoulder. The disparity in height between them means that, more often than not, the shadowmorph generally makes a better door than he does a window when it comes to spotting Bebe behind him in a single-file line. That is— unless your view happens to be had from overhead, bird's eye, like the one afforded to the Frenchwoman called Siobhan.
While the tiny (ex)tart may be awfully interested in getting reacquainted with a ghost of the present, Bijou Baxter in common girl skin isn't going to short Siobhan from a bit of proper thanks before they proceed. "«Thank you again. We both really appreciate you facilitating this for us.»" So eloquent. Ish. Then again, pretty much everything sounds fancy in French.
She allows Cardinal to precede her, testing the potentially turbulent waters, perhaps. That little bit of thanks may have merely been a smokescreen to disguise her haunted hesitance. Bebe catches up with Cardinal but suddenly falls silent and, instead of addressing original recipe Tyler direct, she opts to salute his sister first. "Hello, um… hi. I'm— Bebe."
One brow goes up as Siobhan heard Bebe speaking in French, and a pleased smile crosses the stern-looking woman's lips as she dips her head down into a polite nod of her head. There's no acknowledgement spoken, but in the smile and the unobtrusive nod, it says a great deal for someone who seems as emotionally reserved as she is.
At Cardinal's welcome, Tyler manages something of an awkward smile, even while Libby remains seated, watching Bebe's approach warily. "Hey ah, I dunno… it's… I mean, being on a boat?" Tyler's expression becomes a bit wry, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. "I guess we're only staying here for a couple more days, then, I guess we're taking off to Ontario. Uh, probably not by boat." No, Tyler, Probably not by boat.
Several feet away, Libby slowly rises from her seat with an awkward smile, not really sure how to react. "I'm — " her dark eyes dart up to Bebe, then over to her brother and Cardinal, then back to the younger woman again as she uncertainly offers out a hand. "Libby Case, but— I guess you know that already. It— it's good to finally meet you. Ty talks about you all the time. Something…" she furrows her brows, "about sink vodka?"
Ah, now this is more the Tyler that Cardinal knew… you know, sans the sink vodka. A smile twitches a bit to his lips as he approaches, one hand reaching out to offer to Tyler and Libby in turn, "Yeah, he got a little drunk when we first dragged him out've lockup… I really have no idea what the hell he was drinking, but it was pretty damn impressive he was still able to talk."
A tip of his head to Bebe, then, pausing before he admits, "Bebe knew— ah— you. That is, the other you. We were on the run together for awhile, the three of us."
"Does he really?" The tiny (ex)tart's equally miniature ego just can't help but to swell. Slightly. The thought of someone somewhere potentially having the propensity to talk about her (NICELY) all the time can certainly be taken as a compliment, but she isn't apt to let it go to her head. And then—
"Oh, uh… yeah. That was… something." The infamous sink vodka incident. Seemingly, Tyler had the sense enough not to mention anything about the ensuing Twister tournament; either that or he simply failed to remember it at all, which by Bebe's accounting would not be a bad thing, really, even if Richard Cardinal's reputation might take a hit by no longer being known as the illustrious Twister Champion of Room 311. The former fornicator for fun and profit slides a sidelong look over to the boys as if silently weighing whether or not this could be the case. Punny. Yeah, okay, he'll live.
"He used to talk about you, too," Bebe suddenly says, not really aware that she's speaking until the words seemingly fall right out of her mouth. In the past tense. Used to. "…after he remembered…" Remembered. "It's—" AWKWARD. "…so, Canada? I've been there before." It's more of a savvy sort of understatement rather than an outright lie. She's definitely been there; she used to live there. Part-time. With summers spent abroad. Life before piracy and kidnapping on the high seas. "The people are very nice. I think you'll like it."
"Yeah… Sio' keeps saying that it's nice up there. I think she's actually from Canada, m'not sure though, she knows the area pretty well." Shifting around to sit up on top of the table she was merely sitting at a moment ago, Libby crosses one leg over the other and leans back, hands flat on the table behind her as her eyes wander out over the nighttime water.
"Tyler's excited about getting out of the city. He's… we've both never gotten out of New York. I think, now that we're both free of our abilities…" her eyes momentarily dip down to her hands, "I think that'll make the world of difference. He's not cursed with his, and… and I'm not stuck with the one he gave me."
He what?
Looking up from her hand to Bebe, Libby offers something of a weak smile. "Did Tyler ever tell you how all that happened? How… why we were all in the situation we were? Why he thought I was dead, why I thought he was dead? It— it's really just a stupid string of coincidences. But… I mean, I guess everything happens for a reason."
Not too far away, Tyler grimaces and glances over at Bebe and Libby, not quite close enough to hear their conversation. "You ever get the feeling…" he looks back over to Cardinal, a wry smile spread across his lips, "that you're the butt of some big ol' cosmic joke, but you aren't quite sharp enough to figure out what the punchline is?" It's rhetoric, mostly. Because Tyler doesn't give much of a pause between words for it to be answered. "I'm not really going to miss this city." His smile fades some, eyes averting from Richard. "I… I owe you, man. Like, for everything. If you hadn't pulled me up outta' that hole I— man… what the fuck happened?"
At the revelation of where her ability came from, Cardinal slants over a bemused look— bemused, but not surprised, not really. It certainly fits a little of what he knows about the man's lack of control, at least until he'd learned… would learn… this incarnation, perhaps, never will. Then again, the world has a way of throwing curveballs at times.
"Every day, brother," he chuckles, clapping one hand on Tyler's shoulder, "Every mother-fucking day. As for what happened… we killed a future that none of us wanted to see." His smile fades just a bit, "Now I just have to figure out how to build one that we do." He looks at the former power-manipulator with a rueful expression, "It wasn't entirely selfless, I mean, I did need you. You don't own me shit. I didn't manage to save you the first time around…"
"…what did he give you?" Some folks might consider it a fortunate fate not to be saddled with the knowledge of what took place those scant few weeks ago in Fort Lee, New Jersey. Ignorance is bliss, right? Isn't that what they say? Sadly, the wee young woman dubbed Bebe isn't one of those people; the expression she dons at being confronted with a whole heap of loose ends without much hope of making any connections to current events leaves her looking perhaps more pensive than anyone her age ought to be. All she knows is that rocks fell and John Doe died and life has kinda sorta sucked just a little bit more ever since then.
"No, John— er, Tyler, he…"
Bebe's gaze just can't help but to drift off in the same direction as Libby's. The subtle white noise of the rippling waves lapping at the belly of the boat casts its spell and she falls into a quiet that seems almost serene. By moonlight, the reflection cast by every crest is so much more subdued than daylight's garish illusion of dazzling diamonds; the black blanket cast out over the bay is littered at night by rough-hewn shapes of the same stones, perhaps, only in the rough.
"Yeah, yeah I know…" Tyler looks down at his feet, then back up to Cardinal again. "What the fuck is wrong with that Brian guy, anyway? First he fucking arrests me 'cause he works for Homeland Security, then he— what— feels bad about it and busts me out? People called me bipolar…" There's a furrow of Tyler's brows as he rubs at the side of his cheek with a thumb, giving Cardinal a serious thought look, because it's clear Tyler's not really in the loop — any of them.
"It doesn't really matter in the end," Libby muses quietly, sitting up straighter as she wraps her arms around herself. "I think I might've died, during the bomb… but Ty did something to me. Made me… absorb all of that radiation, like the way a plant absorbs sunlight. I think ti healed me, somehow. I just— I don't know. I never really knew what happened… not until that Edward guy came to get me." Her dark eyes narrow slightly, remembering that night on the rooftop. Her head dips down, silence coming over her.
"Hey," Tyler nudges Cardinal's shoulder with a feigned punch, then nods his head in the direction of Bebe and Libby. "Do they look kind've shitty right now to you?" His dark eyes flick back to the older man, "I mean… uh— you know," he draws a frownie-face line on his mouth. How very mature, Tyler.
"I convinced him that he was working for the wrong side," Cardinal lies blatantly, but hey, it sounds good anyway. He gives his head a bit of a shake, looking back at Tyler with a wry expression, "I'm guessing you got your whole memory back, an' all, then? It just all come back to you, or…?"
Then, over to the pair, and he grimaces slightly, "Li'l, yeah. Bebe was— well— kind've attached to you. The, uh, other you. I don't think they were sleeping together or anything, but…" He waves a hand vaguely, speaking quietly now so as to evade being overheard, "She's gotten a serious raw deal in life. Not a lot've friends."
Not surprisingly, the explanation that Libby offers does little more than sail smoothly over little Bebe's brown-haired head. However, as a courtesy, the younger woman nods slowly and even utters an "Oh." that makes it sound as if suddenly everything made sense while she continues to stare out over the open water. The tiny (ex)tart knows how to fake it. Every good girl does.
Wh— whu— what. "Wait…" The serenity of the sight laid out before their milky eyes certainly must have also inlaid a layer of wax in her ears or otherwise set Bebe's auditory senses on dangerous delay. Something in the prettier Case's previous statement suddenly strikes the sometime strumpet as important and she very nearly falls all over herself to make sure she heard correctly, going so far as to reach out with both hands in order to grasp at one of Libby's lounging arms as if to still herself. The move is made unnaturally fast. "…did you say that— Tyler doesn't have his ability anymore?"
OH TEH NOES!!1 The pitter-patter palpitations of her borrowed jackrabbit heart skip six or seven beats as the organ less than literally leaps into her throat and then slowly begins to sink like a stone into her stomach.
"Oh ah… yeah I…" Tyler rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly, "I remember most everything. There's some fuzzy spots here and there, but it was like… when I got the surge from my— from John— it like… it woke me up, you know? It was pretty wild, like when you're all stuffed up in your sinuses, then all of a sudden it clears and it's like, pop-pop-tingle? It was kind've like that." If anything it's clear Tyler Case has a way with words not to be trifled with…
The sudden flicker of worry from Bebe jars Libby back to clarity, and the brunette casts her eyes over at the younger woman with a raised brow. "You… didn't— I'm sorry." Her teeth lightly press down on her lower lip, eyes drifting away before gravitating back. Those dark eyes flick down to each of Bebe's hands, then alight up to the younger woman's eyes with a quizzical expression.
"We both lost our abilities. That red lightning, whatever happened in the— between both of him," she nods her head subtly towards Tyler, "it took them away from us. We're… we're normal now." And she sounds quite happy about it. "W— why're you so concerned?" Suspicion begins to grow in libby, everyone wanted her brother for one reason or another.
"Oh man," Tyler says with an exasperated tone of voice, "I hope they weren't sleeping together," an exasperated tone about something entirely off topic. "Man, she— looks a lot like Libby. That'd be like," his hands come up and wave frantically in the air, "that'd be weird."
"Relax." Cardinal's head shakes just a little, one hand raising slightly in the direction of the tiny (ex)tart as he flashes a reassuring smile over, "All of the… tangled-up powers and all switched themselves back eventually, Bebe, so, I don't think it's permanent." Unless it is, which apparently it has been before, but he's not going to mention that out loud, as it's not something she needs to know!
"Hey," he grins over towards Libby, "I'd take exception to that, but I wasn't normal even before I got my ability."
While wee Bebe clearly still seems to be inexplicably bothered by Libby's otherwise innocuous revelation, Cardinal's calming reassurance keeps the tiny (ex)tart in line. At least in that she isn't about to shake either poor (ex)Evolved refugee by the shoulders until some sort of curative bit of red lightning or radiation tumbles out. That would be bad, m'kay? Besides, she really ought to be happy for them, right? They've been cured of all that ails them and get to hitch a free ride on the freak railroad six underground all the way up into Canada.
"I— I'm sorry," she says to Libby, releasing the poor woman after another moment only to awkwardly shove her hands deep down into the front pockets of her hip-hugging blue jeans. The pose causes her shoulders to curl in toward her chin and she bows her head before she heaves a sigh and dares to harbor any sort of hopeful look in Cardinal and Tyler's mutual direction. "I know— he said, but… it hasn't happened yet and…" Girls get scared when they're late. Or, perhaps more accurately in this case, delayed.
It could be worse, of course. Having someone else's stolen superspeed and hypersensitive reflexes is hardly what some might consider a curse. All the same, it's been an awful long time since Bebe's felt like herself. Normal. She can't help but wonder if she even has any real concept of what that might be like.
"So," Tyler tucks his hands into his pockets, meandering footfalls taking him across the deck of the boat, "you guys are here to, like, see us off?" His dark brown eyes drift over his shoulder to Cardinal, then back to Bebe. "Kinda' flattering, I guess. But, I dunno, it's kind've weird too… thinking about everything that happened, and heck— s'even weirder not knowing where I'm going to be in a few weeks."
"Canada. I swear we just talked about that." Libby offers as she leans around Bebe to regard her brother. Tyler grimaces, rubbing at the back of his head with one hand as his eyes skew off to the side, teeth tugging at his lower lip.
"O— oh, right, right I— I knew that." Tyler's smile turns a bit lopsided, eyes angles side-long towards Cardinal. "Man, you've got no idea how grateful I am for everything though. The Triad're gonna' be off our asses, and I'm finally going to get a chance to start over again. It— I really don't know how to thank you for getting me out of all the trouble I was in." He's like a doddering, broken record sometimes.
The exchange between the two women is noticed, and Cardinal tilts his head back along the side of the boat; one hand clasping to Tyler's shoulder to steer him in that direction, suggesting casually, "Let's go grab the ice cream from the boat, bring it along back here so the girls can enjoy it. One last celebration before you're off to the land of maple syrup…"
Translation: We will go have Man Talk, and the two awkward ladies can have Girl Talk. And then we will return with ice cream to beg forgiveness for leaving them alone together.
Bebe seems simultaneously horrified and relieved at Cardinal's overheard suggestion; she isn't terribly sure how she feels about being left alone in Libby's company but, honestly, the woman isn't that bad or anything and, hey, it's not like there aren't half a dozen other folks toting automatic weapons wandering to and fro from time to time in their vicinity. It's almost like being babysat. With guns.
Resolved, the tiny (ex)tart says, "You know, I would love some ice cream." She then looks to Libby, almost expectantly.
Rolling his tongue over the inside of his cheek, Tyler looks back over at Libby and Bebe as he starts to wander away from them at Cardinal's side. Hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, Tyler rolls his shoulders and quirks a brow, giving Cardinal a very is this going to hurt? look that involves the beginnings of a pout. Man to man talks have — in the past — always resulted in him getting punched in the face.
Watching Cardinal and Tyler start to walk off, Libby purses her lips and shifts her eyes to settle on Bebe, arms folded across her chest and weight settling to one foot as she kicks her hip out slightly. "Man," her brows furrow as she inspects Bebe thoughtfully, "your friend Richard's just as weird as Ty is." There's a faint quirk of her lips up into a smile, but it smoothes out as she starts to talk again. "Do you work for, uh," she nods up towards where Siobhan prowls the upper walkway like a watchful tiger, "these people?"
"What?" An amused look is slanted towards Cardinal's companion as head along down the side of the boat towards the plank between it and the Casino Royale, "I just figured the two girls could get some…" He waves a hand vaguely, "…bonding time, or whatever th'fuck girls do." He gives Tyler's shoulder a manly punch, "You did fuckin' good, man. Saved the world, an' shit."
The younger woman finally concedes to take a seat, claiming the outside edge of the wrap-around bench. "Tell me about it," she says flatly. The response rolls right out of Bebe's mouth before she even has the opportunity to consider what she's saying. "But, I've come to the conclusion recently that I just don't know any normal folks." …or how hilarious it might sound to someone interested in eavesdropping.
With her brown eyes lifted upward as Libby indicates their overseer, Bebe shakes her head briefly from side to side. That would be a negative. "Me? No. I don't— I'm not really… affiliated. Not that they aren't nice people, I'm sure." A beat. She pauses and then tilts her chin just so, favoring Libby with a light look of consideration before she asks uncertainly, "…are they nice?"
"O— ah— " Tyler flinches and rubs at his shoulder with one eye squinted, fingers padding over the area where Cardinal lightly tapped him; a tough-guy he's more assuredly not, yet another difference between he and John. "I— I didn't really do anything, I just— I listened to the creepy bug-eyed dude, and then— then I just sort've— " his lips purse together, a sigh slipping past. "I didn't do anything, m'not really a hero, but— to be honest," his eyes flick to Cardinal, "I don't want to be a hero. That's a whole lot've fucking pressure."
"Across the deck, Libby looks up to where Siobhan stands, then back to Bebe. "They're really nice people, kinda' paranoid, but like— you would be too I guess if you do what they do. They're really awesome, though. We're all getting new identities, and jobs and a place to live…" Libby smiles faintly. "I offered to help out at one of their safehouses up north where we're headed, and I volunteered Ty for it to. I think it'll be a good change for us, you know, helping people and making a difference, right?"
Smiling faintly, Libby rolls her shoulders into a sheepish shrug. "I've spent a lot of my life livin' off of others' kindness, and… You know, I figure it's time to start paying it back. There's gotta' be lots more people out there like me an' my brother who just need a helping hand."
"I said you saved the world…" Cardinal's hands drop back down to tuck into the pockets of his jacket as he walks, slowly, his head shaking just a bit, "…I didn't say you were a hero. It's not somethin' anyone should want to be. Heroes die. The world doesn't need heroes. The world needs people who get shit done."
A faint smile crooks to his lips as he steps up onto the boarding plank, strolling across it with the soft creak of wood and metal before hopping down onto the yacht, "Even if you never do anything with your life again— be proud knowing that you did that when it needed doin', when nobody else could. Even if nobody but you'n me remember it."
A pause, glancing back, "But— I've got an offer. Don't know if you'll want to take it."
"That's…" You know, ironically, Bebe was once spun the same sort of story, too! A new identity. A job helping people. A real nice place to stay. Jack actually took the time to list off all the benefits of their arrangement with John Logan on his fingers, too. It seemed like an awful sweet deal at the time and, hey, look how well that worked out for the both of them. "…I really hope things go well for you. Both of you. You deserve it."
Understandably, Bebe seems somewhat dubious but she stops just short of passing any untoward judgement on the Ferrymen. Yet. But, oddly, it still feels a bit awkward to applaud the efforts of folks who (arguable) still trade in flesh. It's not as nefarious as it seems but Bebe isn't awfully well-adjusted in her perceptions of how the world really works. The concept of someone doing something out of the kindness of their heart without expecting something in return seems almost alien. The look that she gives Libby is very nearly awe-struck. Is she for real??
"…Y— you're not… gay, are you?" Tyler actually asks that of Cardinal, straight-faced and entirely serious. "I— I mean I'm flattered, man, but— I really don't— you know, it's not my— uh, I'm not— " he grimaces, fingers steepling together, trying to be as polite and politically correct about being a bumbling goon as he possibly can be.
Thankfully for Tyler, Libby can't hear a word of idiot slipping out of his mouth as she talks to Bebe. "Yeah I'm… it's all sort've a big change for us, and I'm really counting on it working. But without our abilities, I think we'll have a real, solid chance to have a normal life."
Cardinal very nearly trips down the stairs to the gallery and breaks his neck, catching himself on the boat's wall and swiveling his head around to look back at the other man and just stares for a few seconds… and then he breaks out laughing, his head shaking as he straightens, "What the hell— no, no, I am quite straight, thanks, an' if I wasn't, no offense man, you are not what my type would be."
A roll of his eyes, before he asks - in unconscious contrast to Libby's words, across the boat - more seriously, "Do you want your ability back?"
Bebe somehow manages to miss all the good bits, eh? She meanwhile sits silently in her seat, eyes once again cast out onto the dark water that surrounds them, offering nothing more than a bobbing nod in contribution to the conversation at hand. Her fingers fidget with something held beneath the surface of the table.
"N— no!" Tyler recoils as if Cardinal had offered him a writhing handful of worms. "No! I— how could you even— " swallowing awkwardly and nearly choking as he does, Tyler coughs once into his fist and stares wide-eyed down towards where Cardinal is at the bottom of the stairs. "No. I— my ability only ever really got me in trouble. I'm— I want to try and lead a normal life, not be hunted by everyone and their fucking mother who wants me for something." Those last few words are delivered with narrowed eyes, more suspiciously considering Cardinal.
The silence on Libby's side of the boat comes with a wistful sigh as she walks a few paces away from Bebe and leans forward, resting her arms on the railing, overlooking the dark, calm waters. "I think this is probably the last time I'll ever get to look out and see the lights of the city at night. Do— did you grow up here?" Libby looks over her shoulder at Bebe.
A hand lifts, palm-forward as if to ward off that glare. "Just givin' you the option, man," Cardinal replies quietly, calmly, "I wouldn't tell anyone, an' they wouldn't know. You could still go up to Canada, do whatever you and Libby are planning to do, nobody'd follow you."
He turns back, stepping over to the fridge and pulling it open as he admits, "I lost mine for awhile. Lost my hand, too. Not sure— which hurt me more. So I wanted t'offer, is all."
The younger woman sharing the elder Case's space does a fine job of playing the mute for a few moments more, shaking her head again instead of offering anything verbally. Whatever it was that she had been toying with finds its way back into her pocket as she abandons her seat and moves over to occupy the railing in a pose that remains somewhat similar to Libby's without invading her personal bubble. "No, uh— I'm not from here. I sort of grew up all over." Why does she feel so compelled to offer the woman nothing more intimate than half-truths? What's the harm in being open with someone that she'll never see again? Sucking in a sharp breath, Bebe suddenly offers an amendment to her previous statement. "I was born in Paris, actually. My mother was French. My dad's Canadian, though. We used to live in Montreal." There. That wasn't so awful, was it?
"Paris," Libby's tone of voice goes somewhat dreamlike, that idealistic view of the city dancing through her head. "That must've been something, to live out there and…" she turns around, resting her elbows on the railing as she does, slouched back against the metal frame. "Why'd you come out here of all places, I mean— New York's kind've a shithole, even more so now than a few years ago— which is saying a lot."
Away from the girls, Tyler shakes his head slowly. "Your hand man? Jesus, you're like a fucking cat with nine lives, er, paws? I— I dunno," he finally adds, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand. "But— no, I— all I ever wanted once I found out about my ability was to be normal, just an average dude. I always wanted to— you know— be somebody. I wanted to be fuckin' special, and that really wasn't cool when it happened. I think, you know, now a days? M'gonna be pretty content with being normal."
"It was the same day I met the other you, actually, and Bebe. I let my guard down, and…" A slap of Cardinal's hand against the side of the fridge, sharply, "…there was Arthur, the crazy sonuvabitch." A container of fudge ripple's pulled from the depths of the ice box, and he steps back, closing it and reaching over to snag a handful of wrapped plastic spoons before heading back over towards Tyler with a rueful expression upon his face, "It's cool. I just— wanted to offer."
He tilts his head to the stairs, "Least I could do after you helped me take the bastard down."
"It's… kind of a long story." Bebe looks a little bit sidelong at Libby, as if trying to discern what sort of mood she might be in or, maybe, if she's properly braced against the rail for what she's about to reveal. "I was—" Go ahead. Say it. It's the truth. "…kidnapped."
"I— " Libby bites down on her tongue, leaning off of the railing to walk over partway to Bebe, then hesitates. "I'm sorry I— I didn't mean to…" biting down on her lower lip, the elder of the Case siblings looks over towards where Cardinal and her brother took off to, then up towards where Siobhan is looming by the floodlights, then back to Bebe. "M'sorry…" Because, really, there's no other words she has for it.
"Then you still owe me," Tyler's voice chimes over by Cardinal both brows waggling up and down, his thumb jerking back to point at himself with a shit-eating grin. "So if something goes sideways up in moose-country, and I need a favor, m'gonna call it in on you, since you're being so generous." Suddenly the bumbling routine slips away, and Tyler's all business, reaching into his jacket to produce a cell phone he underhand tosses down the stairs towards Cardinal. "The people here gave it to me, I'll just say I dropped it overboard. Keep it, and if I ever think of something I might need, I'll give it a ring." Grinning to himself, Tyler's eyes downcast to the ice cream and plastic spoons with a lopsided smile.
"Chunky Monkey, nice."
The cell phone's caught neatly in the hand not occupied with ice cream, and Cardinal starts up the stairs after the other man— a grin flashed back to him, the phone tucked into a pocket as he replies casually, "Just a call away, my man. Well, maybe a call, some wrangling for time, a flight or a really long drive, but… y'know what I mean."
A low chuckle as he heads across the plank, "C'mon. Girls'll be wanting their ice cream."
Despite the dark nature of her recent revelation, Bebe sees fit solely to shrug her shoulders oh-so-casually; it's as if she'd only just given her opinion of the weather and can't be bothered to assign any more emotion to it than that. "It is what it is," she states with a remarkable measure of stoicism. "I mean, I appreciate the apology but— " She doesn't want Libby's pity. Or anyone else's. It's hard to say that without coming off bitter and so Bebe allows the words to remain unspoken while the sentiment still hangs between them in the salty air.
"…don't tell Tyler."