Participants:
| Scene Title | Business And Boating |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Cardinal discusses plans, information… and boat retrieval. Also, he is oblivious. |
| Date | August 1, 2009 |
Once upon a time, the New York Public Library was one of the most important libraries in America. The system, of which this branch was the center, was among the foremost lending libraries /and/ research libraries in the world.
The bomb changed that, as it changed so much else.
By virtue of distance, the library building was not demolished entirely, like so many others north of it; however, the walls on its northern side have been badly damaged, and their stability is suspect. The interior is a shambles, tattered books strewn about the chambers and halls, many shelves pulled over. Some have even been pulled apart; piles of char in some corners suggest some of their pieces, as well as some of the books, have been used to fuel fires for people who sought shelter here in the past.
In the two years since the bomb, the library — despite being one of the icons of New York City — has been left to decay. The wind whistles through shattered windows, broken by either the blast-front or subsequent vandals, carrying dust and debris in with it. Rats, cats, and stray dogs often seek shelter within its walls, especially on cold nights. Between the fear of radiation and the lack of funds, recovery of the library is on indefinite hiatus; this place, too, has been forgotten.
It seems that, like PARIAH, like Phoenix, and like Edward Ray after them, Richard Cardinal has decided that the library serves his needs quite nicely.
The back room near the generators has had some cheap boxed chairs moved in, and there's some books and folders scattered over one of the tables in a chaotic sort of order that only the creator might understand. A series prints hangs along one cleared wall - the Brill Collection, if one might recognize the artist's style or any of them individually, framed in cheap if nice-looking plastic to protect them from the evidence. The generators have been gotten up and running from the low rumbling off that side room, and there's a large standing fan oscillating back and forth to push away the scent of soot and keep the air moving despite the summer hour.
Cardinal's sprawled back in a rolling chair at one of those tables, a manilla folder in hand being paged through slowly. His brow's furrowed, expression thoughtful - darkly thoughtful, from the frown pursing his lips. He made a call to ask for one of the Brians to come by earlier, and he figures it shouldn't be long. One's never too far away, given their numbers, he figures.
Hopefully this one will have clothes.
Clothes he has.
The top few buttons of his white shirt undone, his black suit contrasting sharply to the button-up. His sunglasses are taken off languidly and clipped onto the top of his shirt as he enters the room. Looking around, Brian gives an admiring hum."Quite the little base of operations. Knocked down any slush-o booths lately?"
Taking a step forward, Brian goes to sit on the table. Watching Cardinal closely he tilts his head at the manilla folder.
"Not yet," Cardinal replies, glancing up from the folder with a rogue's smile crooking to his lips, "Liz's been busy on the serial killer case, and Pastor Sumter got attacked yesterday… so it'll be another day or two before we can head out on that." The folder's flipped closed easily, and he tosses it to land in a whisper of sound on the table. The label scrawled upon the cover of it reads 'JOHN LOGAN' in sharpie marker, with the same words echoed in Chinese beneath.
The heel of his boot pushes to the floor, and he pulls himself closer to the table, both arms dropping to rest on the surface as he observes with just a hint of private humor, "Liu Ye's been showing quite an interest in Staten Island of late, hasn't he?"
"If Liu Ye, knew I was associating with his triads. He might get very angry." Brian points out taking the folder. He brings it up and goes to open it. Examining the contents within the John Logan folder he hums lightly to himself. "Bao-Wei Cong, however, is very interested in Staten. I know that much."
As far as why Liu Ye would be upset? "I killed his father." Brian adds in as an afterthought. "John Logan. So, what? Are the Chinese wanting to take out this Logan?"
"Oh, no." Cardinal smiles, but it's not a very kind smile, nor is the look in his eyes as he replies bluntly, "That would be me. They did some… surveillance on my behalf, in exchange for a job they'd like me to do. On the list of people I'd like to see die in agony, he's the only one there." A pause, and he adds dryly, "At least now that Arthur's dead."
"So that's what happened to old Chang Ye… well, he was a bastard anyway," the thief admits, noting, "The Triad's planning to make a move against Linderman. Until now, the two had a — agreement on how and who would run Staten. We're looking at open war between them before too long, I think, and what lovely timing for FRONTLINE to come online." He rubs a hand against his brow, "It's going to be messy."
"You want to kill John Logan?" Brian asks, giving a shrug. "Okay, let's do it then." He says roughly slapping the file back down on the table."You've yet to inform me on the Strauss situation, Dickie. Do I need to put on masks, or do you have the information I need to keep our gluttonous doctor fat and happy?" Brian asks, going to push himself off the table.
"Linderman versus the triads. Do we have much of an eye if any on Linderman?" He asks, giving an irritated sigh. "I suppose I should make an appointment." Mostly to himself.
Pushing himself off the table completely he rounds on Cardinal. "So what's your proposal on the whole thing? Take Linderman's side? Take the Triads? Or fuck em all and let FRONTLINE eat the whole place?"
"I have a bit of an in, with Linderman," admits Cardinal, "Not much, but I can walk in the door and get a meeting. So can you, actually." The replicator across the table is considered for a moment, and the thief informs him, "Brian Fulk was under Linderman's protection. The Lighthouse was largely funded by him."
He pauses, "I… my first instinct is to help the Triad take down Linderman, and then step aside, feed FRONTLINE whatever information they need to roll over Liu's boys. I have a feeling things're going to get complicated, though."
"How would Linderman feel about his nanny offering himself up as a hitman?" Winters asks a little grin playing on his lips. Pacing back and forth, Brian lowers his head, pressing his chin to his chest. "Linderman is powerful. In a lot of different ways." Brian says, looking up at Cardinal. "We go against him, we could be in deep shit, Dickie. Fuck, we even think of going against him, hypothetically we could be in deep shit."
"That's why we let the Dragons do the work," states Cardinal, one hand lifting in a vague gesture through the air, "He may be powerful, but he's not invincible." That hand reaches over to wrap about a bottle of beer sitting on the table, and he brings it back to his lips to take a swallow, gesturing with it, "In the future that'll never happen, his right-hand man, Kain Zarek, turned on him. By the time he was done, it was the Zarek group, and Linderman was on death row. So hypothetically he's beatable." He hesitates, then adds, "Plus, he was one of the Company's founders, so it might be possible to send Monroe after him. The asshole makes a useful attack dog sometimes."
"As of yesterday I am the newest member of Adam's… whatever he has going on. When I gain his trust and he listens to me, I can point him at Linderman. Pave a way for him to go after him." Brian offers, folding his arms over his chest. "But I need to gain his trust, move up in his eyes. Who else founded the Company? Who else can I deliver to him?" Brian goes to return to his seat on the table. "Get Linderman distracted with the threat of Monroe hanging over his head and we can move around much more freely." Clasping his hands together he presses them to his lips.
"I'll make some connections in the Linderman group. That aren't just Linderman." Brian says softly. Glancing over at Cardinal he hums between his hands. "Then we bring hell down on them."
"As of yesterday… was he still in town, then?" A frown purses Cardinal's lips, his brow furrowing slightly, "News story that I read today— a Canadian doctor, murdered? He was one of the names on that list. I thought it was Monroe, but maybe someone else is going after them. Another wildcard." The chair's arms creak a bit as he leans back, one hand lifting to scratch at the side of his neck, "Get me a list of his current— lackeys, when you get the opportunity? I'd like to keep track of who's in his shadow.
The frown fades into a faint, wry smile, then, brows lifting to Brian, "Mmhm. That's what we do. We watch, listen, learn, and strike only when it's the right moment."
"I'm telling you Dickie. I can get in on the surface, but no one wants to bring me in for cuddles unless I do something for them. Triads want FRONTLINE info. I don't know what the fuck Adam wants. People dead." He gives a shrug. "So we've got to find something Adam wants. So I can get it to him." He gives a nod. "In town as far as I know. I'll try to get in with his crew but.." He gives a shrug. "Resistant at best so far. But that's part of the work right? Gotta work hard for what you get." Brian rolls his shoulders a bit.
"You didn't answer me about Tracy. And there's another thing. I want our association with Elisabeth limited. She's on the outside with me, she doesn't know what you know. And it needs to be kept that way, me showing up the same place the other day. Don't do that to me again, Dickie. I need my secrets, alright?"
"I can keep you two away from each other," admits Cardinal, "But she's one've my biggest resources at this point, what with her being a cop and one of Phoenix's higher-ups, so I'm not going to leave her out've my business. I'll make sure to keep you on separate jobs if that's what you want, though."
The bottle of beer is tapped against his knee a bit, the base leaving a faint circle of moisture on the denim, lips pursing a bit, "Tracy's fuckin' useless, honestly. She refuses to work with anybody; won't play ball unless she has the upper hand. At a disadvantage, she only clams up more. I'll look into the Founders, see if there's anyone you can feed him. I might know a few."
"Keep her uninformed about me. You don't use me at all as far as she knows. Only for muscle shit." A thoughtful look crosses his featues once he starts talking about Tracy. "Then we'll have to get her to work with somebody who she's comfortable with. I recently came into contact with a body-swapper. She's going to do me a favor."
"We find out who Tracy would spill the beans to, and we can switch with that person." Winters informs a little smile curling up his lips. "Also, on one of my many adventures where I save females, I also got another Evolved. She can see through other people's eyes." He tilts a head at the other man. "Sound familiar? Yet. she doesn't need physical contact. She doesn't know how to use it, but I figured I could train her, maybe you could help out. That could be very useful."
"The only people I can think of might be difficult to body-swap with, unfortunately, but there have to be others," Cardinal muses, scratching under his chin in a rasp of short nails against stubble like claws on sandpaper, head tilted back a bit to regard the ceiling thoughtfully, "Not a bad plan, though. If I can get a hold of Parkman, he might be able to give us the information too… fuck, I'd kill for a technopath right about now. I'm concerned about more'n just FRONTLINE, government-wise, honestly."
His hand falls to his knee, and he brings the beer up, pausing at the latter mention. One brow arches, "Interesting. That could be pretty fuckin' useful, honestly. You think she's trustworthy?"
"Not yet." Brian says softly. "She's a scared little girl so far. Just manifested her ability. Doesn't know what to do. I took her to Cat's safehouse. She's currently in my sister's room. Trying to get her to meet Ferry's and the Birds, get her to feel sympathetic for them. All that." Winters explains. "She seems like a good girl though. We bring her under our wing, I imagine she'll help us with the least manipulation possible."
"Body Swapper I had to spin a little. Made it sound like she was helping all Evolved. Which she is, I suppose to a certain extent. But I helped her, saved her from getting arrested for using her power. She's new to the whole being Evolved thing too. I don't know how I find these people." He gives an exasperated shrug. "So she's willing to help." He taps one finger to his lips. "You think like, a personal assistant or something? Or fuck, we swap with Tracy herself. Go through her files or whatever."
The low rumble of the gasoline generators is background to the conversation between the two men in one of the rooms deep in the crumbling ruins of the library. In a chair that's been recently constructed IKEA-style from a box, Cardinal tilts the beer bottle to his lips to take a swallow, lowering it to gesture towards the other man, "I'll go talk to her. I've got… experience with a similar power, so maybe I can help her out with that."
A wry smile to the latter, "Well, we can use all the agents we can get, knowing or not, if we're going to have a hope of pulling all've this shit off."
"These are my pets, Dickie." Winters reminds, "You go to them, but only through me, alright? I don't want either of them to break. Like you said, we need them, and we need others we don't even know yet." Brian insists, watching Cardinal's bottle. "Aren't you going to offer me one, you dick?" He asks, folding his arms and tilting his heads at the other man.
A short cut off laugh, "Agents." A rueful smile climbs up his lips as he wanders the interior of the room. "I'll see what I can drum up on Tracy concerning a personal assistant. The more we can use Tracy for without letting her know.." He gives a shrug, "Leaves her as an untapped asset for the future."
"Only if you stop calling me 'Dickie'," Cardinal replies, his tone dry as he waves a hand vaguely towards a cooler off to one side despite his words, adding with a tilt of the long-neck in Winters' direction, "And they're not pets. They're people. I only break people who deserve it. I'm kind to children, pet small dogs, and garden. I'm a fuckin' saint."
"Maybe. Personally, I'm worried she's working with the other Nathan."
"I will never stop calling you Dickie." He says with a broad smile as he heads for the cooler. Popping it open a beer is pulled out and the cooler is closed roughly. The beer is spun around in his hand. "Can you do that thing where you pop off the cap against a table?" He asks, focusing on the table he moves the beer in front of it. "I'm always afraid I'll hit it too hard and break the bottle." Winters complains.
"Yeah. Fucking saint." He agrees. "Listen, if I take care of them, feed em, and take em for walks, they're my pets until they're house trained." He gives a grin. The bottle is sent down in an attempt to uncap it, though he moves it with more force than necessary. The top of the bottle shards off and clatters to the ground.
"Damnit."
"My power isn't 'Arthur Fonzarelli'," points out Cardinal, just in case the other man has forgotten that particular piece of information, his eyes rolling briefly in his head, "And I'll be happy t'help train 'em up. Anything for our fellow evolved, all that solidarity shit, y'know." The last of the beer's downed, and he leans back in his chair, gaze lifting to the ceiling once more.
"Can I have another? I think I got glass in this one." Brian mumbles placing the broken beer on the table. "I don't want to pass glass through my ass." He complains, glancing over at Cardinal glancing up. "Ever find that boat? It could be very useful. Especially if Bebe lets me use it."
Without waiting for an answer, Brian goes back to the cooler to fish out another beer. This time he wraps his shirt around the cap and pops it off. This time he goes to take a sip.
"A guy called me saying that he saw it last night," admits Cardinal, leaning back a bit in the rolling chair with a faint squeak of wheels, both booted feet kicking up onto the table and his arms folding behind his head - emptied beer bottle resting atop the folder he was reading earlier. "I'll have to grab her and go check on if it's really there or not… hopefully it is. And clean the glass up off th'floor."
Roaming through the ruins of Midtown is hardly the sort of afternoon activity that a young woman Bebe's age ought to be undertaking alone, but she does so none the less in order to visit the to the dilapidated remains of what was once a beautiful bastion of great minds. Now, it plays host to a series of squatters and scheming substitute teachers.
The scratching sounds of someone stumbling over debris in the dusty open foyer makes its way into the room where Brian and Cardinal hold their conversation. The visitor's identity doesn't remain a mystery for long, as Bebe echoes out a tentative, "Hello?"
"Hey. Please and thank you asshole." Brian snaps back, taking a swig of his new beer. "God." He says, inhaling after the swallow. "Beer is so gross." Planting the beer down on the table, he goes to his knees to try and find the little bits of glass. Though he pauses at the sound of something from the foyer.
His hand darts for the back of his pants, a gun flying out at a moments notice. Standing he immediately takes cover behind a wall until, 'Hello?'. "Bebe." He says softly, sounding a touch relieved.
"We're in here, Bebe!"
"Hey, you're the dumbass that decided to try and open a beer by hitting it on my table," Richard replies with a roll of his eyes at the other man, "You don't get a please or— " Then there's that stumbling of feet out down the hall, and he looks up as well, one hand sliding from behind his head to reach into his jacket before the call of greeting from outside brings a faint smile to his lips.
"Just follow the power cables," he calls out.
Bebe does as instructed, using the cords that snake across the floor like leylines until, at last, she discovers the not-so-secret hiding place of her… friends? Finding an adequate term to describe either man currently cavorting about in the dust and debris of the decaying library has been a difficult task, especially given the girl's relatively alien association with men who were not also simultaneously defined by the readiness with which they expected her to spread her legs for them. But, in so far as she could tell, Richard Cardinal was probably as close to a 'friend' as she'd come in the last six or so years… if one didn't take into consideration the Tyler Case of ten years forward who had so recently given up the title. Who's to say that Brian Winters might not be the next?
Bebe peeks her brunette head around the corner and, upon recognizing that she's finally found who she'd been searching for, offers a not entirely unexpected question: "You don't… live here, do you?" She presses her palms against denim-clad thighs in an attempt to dust the dirt off of them, incapable of disguising her mild disgust. Everything's all… dirty.
"Hello." Brian answers cheerfully. Grinning he offers his beer to her, "Thirsty?" Going to press it into her position Brian goes to take the broken one that possibly has glass in it. Examining it closely for a moment he gives a shrug. "What? You don't like it? We were thinking about turning this place into a bed and breakfast. Radiation Inn."
"It's not that dirty. Just don't touch anything. And I hope you're up to date on your tetanus." With that he goes to settle back on the table.
"Maybe," is Richard Cardinal's rueful admission as he leans back in his chair, his head rolling upon his neck to look around the rather run-down back room; shelves laden with books damaged by fire and water and simple neglect, the tables a bit worn and damaged themselves. There's a series of paintings upon the wall, framed, one of which may be recognized as a print of a painting that used to hang upon John Logan's office wall. It's not the original, though. Cardinal sold the original months ago. "After a little bit've fixing up, I think it'd be livable. And it's off the grid, which is more important…"
The words of the other man get a roll of his eyes, and then he flashes Bebe an easy smile, the chair tilting back forward again with a creak. "Good news for you, by the way, beautiful," he notes, reaching out to pick a folder up from the table— sliding it to the bottom of a stack of similar folders.
Hey. Bebe recognizes that painting! The only acknowledgment of this she gives, however, is a prompt of her eyebrows pushed upwards… although, this expression could just as easily portray her interest in whatever sort of good news Cardinal has to share. Hopefully, he isn't being facetious; that'd be a refreshing change of pace. The former floozy wanders over to occupy a piece of floor near Brian, silently initiating some sort of camaraderie via proximity. It's an action that comes complete with a silver smile. She must have thought his little joke was at least a little bit funny. Or she's politely humoring him. Either way, she's still giving him a grin.
"What's that?" she wonders, brown eyes eventually finding their way over to Cardinal on delay.
Giving her a warm smile as she settles next to him, Brian leans in and places his hand on her shoulder. A brief yet warm squeeze is given accompanied with a quiet, "Doin' ok?" It's a quick check-in, his eyes going to lock onto hers for a moment before he breaks back and lets his hand fall to look back at Cardinal.
"Found the boat." He pipes in before Cardinal has a chance, offering a grin to the other man.
The news is about to fall from Cardinal's lips, and then Brian reveals it, and he smirks over— tossing a pencil at the man, though not hard enough to reach him, the number two clattering over the tabletop. "…what he said," he replies, his tone wry, "One've my contacts saw it docked, along the Jersey-Staten route. Assuming it was the Royale, we should be able to run out'n pick it up soon."
"I've been better," Bebe confesses in wild understatement. That probably isn't anything akin to a revelation for either of them given the news delivered at their last (or, in Brian's case, first) encounter. Still, she paints on a pretty smile and, indeed, the news they have to share is genuinely good.
"Really?! That's great!" And then she abruptly plies Brian with a little impromptu embrace, squeezing him at the waist before bounding over to Cardinal and gathering him into a chokeho— er, exuberant hug! "Mind if I just stay with you, then, until we go get it?"
"I'm sorry." Brian lets out until her sadness is quickly yanked around into a joyous embrace. Placing his hand on Bebe's back, and giving her a more emphatic embrace than he had before with Cardinal involved he actually laughs a little until she dances over to Cardinal.
"Are you going to stay on the boat, Bebe?" Brian asks inquisitively.
As the former tactile enhancement specialist erupts from her ennui into a display of happiness, Richard can't help but grin, his head shaking a little, "We can pick it up later in the week if it's there, I— "
Oh no, he's being crushed by a petite beauty, halp. An arm wraps around her waist in return, giving her a warm, tight squeeze in against his side as he leans back a bit to look up to her with a grin, "You're more'n welcome. It's not exactly th'Ritz, but… I picked up some futon mattresses and blankets and shit, at least. Eventually I hope to spruce the place up a li'l."
"Well…" Hm. That's a good question and, whether Brian reckons it or not, Bebe actually struggles for a few seconds to come up with a real rationale for what would have otherwise been merely a 'duh' sort of response. "…it's kind of the only thing I have left that's really mine, you know? Besides, it sure beats staying here." She says this, of course, mere moments after all but inviting herself to sleep over. Is that rude or…?
"You could stay with me," she offers, extending a one-handed gesture tot he air between Brian and Cardinal so at the indicate that they're both being addressed. "It does have four private cabins and I— " Am unspeakably lonely. "…wouldn't mind the company."
Tilting his head, he just got invited to stay on a boat. And as he can stay in many different places at once, this doesn't sound bad at all. He could use the boat. Just don't ask, yet. Setting his hands on his knees he gives a thoughtful shrug. Taking his beer up again he takes a swig. "Hm."
"Maybe, Bebe. If you wouldn't mind, actually. I could use an extra" hideout. "Place to crash." He says with a charming smile. Though his smile shatters and a very serious expresson crosses his face. "I sleepwalk sometimes." He says in overly serious and exaggerated tones.
As the hug's released, Cardinal's hand drops back down to the chair's arm as he settles back in it; a slight smile crooking up at one corner of his lips, his tone a bit wry. "Guess I'm not getting any referrals for return visits here, then, huh? It's not that bad down in this part've the library, y'know…"
He brings a hand up, rubbing against the side of his neck as he considers the offer barely for a moment before admitting, "I wouldn't mind the company myself. I think some've my shit's still in my cabin too."
Hooray! Potential threesome in the maki— er, bodyguards and boyfriends — in the boys who are also friends sense of the word — on board! Bebe continues to beam and looks… relieved. There might even be some small subconscious part of her brain looking to put any sort of barrier she can between herself and the terribly toxic temptation that goes by the name of John Logan.
"Good. It's settled then." She punctuates her affirmation with a bobbing nod of her chin. "You both know how to swim, right?" she adds in afterthought, although she's probably only half-serious.
"I'm half fish." Brian announces, finishing his beer. Though he's half cut off by spitting a small piece of glass out into his hand. Rubbing it on his black pants he gives a little cough. "My mother was a cod." Brian lets out.
"I've never lived on a boat before."
"I have lived on the boat before," Cardinal points out, his tone a bit wry before he reaches out to ruffle the petite woman's hair with his fingers if she doesn't duck away in time, a smile crooking to his lips, "I can swim just fine."
Bebe's brows bounce at Brian's unusual antics — what was that he just spit out from his beer? — but if all appears to be well then she isn't going to say anything except for, "I think the sooner we all get out of here, the better off we'll be." In more ways than one, apparently. She slides both hands down into her pockets and shrugs her shoulders up to her ears before dropping them down with what sounds like a happy sigh. At the very least, she seems content. That this was accomplished without chemical chicanery ought to speak volumes. Silently.
The departure of the other Brian is a brief exchange of farewells, and then Cardinal turns his attention to Bebe, watching her for a few moments while leaning back in a comfortable sprawl with one arm draped over the back of the seat. "I can't just run and hide," he admits, quietly, "Much as I'd like to. I've got… too much to do here. I'll be happy to spend time on the boat, though. It was nice, for awhile."
Aw. The tiny (ex)tart's disappointment is evident in everything from her expression to her body language. Instead of objecting openly, however, she wagers a wistful, "Are you sure?" Her toes are kept quite decidedly on the other side of the line that divides implication from expectation.
"I wish I could." The expression upon the (ex)thief's face is regretful, one hand sliding over the nape of his neck in a slow rub up and down against the short hairs there, his gaze dropping to his lap before looking back up to her, a smile tugging up at one corner of his lips, "Just got too much to do— you know how it is, kill the big bad guy once, they expect you to do it every time, y'know? I'll stay there now'n again, though. I've missed havin' you and— havin' you around, babe."
"S'far as I can recall," Bebe drawls, hitching a subtle swagger into her hips as she slowly begins to patrol the periphery. "…you've never had me." Haha! Get it? Ah, hooker humor. More to the point, however, it's an excuse to make light of the situation and when she turns away, it's only to engage in a bit of logistical subterfuge so that she might be able to allow the smile to melt away from her face while still faking a bright and bubbly demeanor. "I've— missed you, too," she confesses over a shoulder somewhat disjointedly before quickly going back to her impromptu inspection of the walls and what rubbish might be found around the room.
Of course, the averted word was 'John', but he'd rather not have to open up that emotional bag of worms - for her, or for him. The joke, however, brings a chuckle to his breath, and he stretches back in the chair, both arms folding behind his head as he replies playfully, "Trust me, beautiful, you'd remember." She's watched as she walks about the room of fallen knowledge, his gaze hooded slightly as if to hide the hint of concern there, and as she looks back for that moment, he smiles a bit more. She's left to investigate, however, not interrupting her as she gathers herself.
The playful return volley goes unacknowledged, save for a smile that Cardinal can't see. Bebe sucks in a long and slow bit of breath between tightly grit teeth before exhaling open-mouthed and finally showing the man something other than her cotton-clad back. "So," she peeps, mustering up the illusion of cheer in order to keep her features rosy, even if her eyes betray to truth. "Where will I be sleeping?"
"Wherever you want." Cardinal eases his weight forward until his feet hit the floor, and then he's on his feet, slanting a look over to her with a faded smile of his own, "Yeah, I know, it's not what you're used to, but…" He shrugs, stepping around the table, "We'll go pick up your boat tomorrow. Then you can get out've here and you can go— " A vague wave, "— wherever you want to go." He heads for the hall, offering without looking back, "I've got some mattresses'n blankets and shit in here, if you don't like it, can move them somewhere else, or… whatever."
Bebe then submits a rather frank look to the (ex)thief and then asks simply, "Where do you sleep?"
At the question, Cardinal slants a look back and over to her, head cocking a bit. "Usually wherever I pass out," he admits, his tone rueful. The man stops at the doorway, one hand resting to its edge as he turns a bit more to look at her more directly, allowing in equally rue-touched tones, "I'll give you all the privacy you need, babe, don't worry."
"That's not—" But, for whatever reason, Bebe just can't seem to find the strength of will to finish the sentence. It's left to debate as to what she might have said. Could have been anything. Instead, her abrupt amendment is delivered with an averted look. "…thanks."
In capable of remaining still under Cardinal's scrutiny, the young wayward woman stuffs both hands back into her pockets again and hastily flees the vicinity.
"Bebe…?" She's gone then, out into the hall towards the bunk-room that he's set up across the way, and Cardinal's gaze lingers in her wake for a few moments before bringing a hand up to rub against the side of his face. "Yeah," he says, probably too quietly even to hear, "'Night. You're welcome."
The shadowmorph turns back away from the door then with a push off its edge, walking back over to the table and dropping himself heavily into the chair again. Ill-oiled wheels squeak as he pushes forward, reaching out to tug the folder he'd been reading earlier free of the stack. 'John Logan' reads the cover. Fingertips brush over the surface, and he murmurs to himself, "Guess I should get to work anyway. Sleep just takes up time I don't got."
