Changing the Drapes


cardinal_icon.gif lola2_icon.gif

Scene Title Changing the Drapes
Synopsis But not the carpet.
Date October 17, 2009

Lola's Secret Lair

There comes a rapping of knuckles against the door of the apartment. Of course, it's on the inside of the door to the apartment, since Cardinal's already let himself in— but that's just polite. "Hey babe," he calls out casually as he strolls along in, "You naked?"

"Ah can be," comes a call from the open bathroom, where light pours forth. The shower
isn't running though, nothing like that. "Depends on the grade of tequilla ya mighta brought me. Hey, git in here, willya? I'm havin' some…uh…problems…" If Cardinal follows the voice, he'll find Lola sitting on a stool in front of the bathroom mirror, wearing an oversized sleeping shirt and little else. All down her neck and along the shoulders of the shirt are stained a rusty copper color, and part of her hair, which is pinned up and down haphazardly, are the same. She has a bottle in her hands that she seems to be squirting on her scalp. Slatters of copper are on her face, hands, the floor, the sink, even the mirror. "I can' lift mah arms high 'nuff or I'll rip mah stitches." Red. She's dying it red.

At the beckoning from the bathroom, Cardinal meanders his way along over, pausing in the door to watch with an amused brow crooked upwards. "I see you took my advice," he observes with dry amusement, even as he admires the Pollack-esque spatters of colour sprayed across the room's walls and the mirror. He, himself, has some bandages wrapped around his brow, a pad of gauze pressed to the back of his head, "Need some help, I take it?"

Lola grumbles, setting the squeeze-bottle on the sink somewhere between a slam and…not a slam. Not quite an angry slam, but more of a frustrated drop. As a result, a stream of copper shoots up and across theceiling, dripping down during it's own time.

Lola just wrinkles her nose and grumbles. "Yes," she finally admits. "Them paper directions make it seem sooooo simple, but it ain'." Her dye-stained hand reaches forward, grasping the already stained and half-torn directions as she reads out, "Apply in con…con…con-sis-tan-t stripes…er, strips along hair." She shakes her head as she waves the directions. "Well it don' apply in strips…hey," she frowns a little, looking concerned. "Didja walk into a cabinet or somethin? An did it..hit ya while ya were tryin' ta walk away?"

"Someone blew up a van I was standing a little close to," Cardinal replies a bit curtly; not exactly the truth, but close enough for government work. He takes a step forward— then a step back as coppery red sprays up in the air like a geyser and comes pattering back down. "I don't remember telling you that you could re-paint," he points out, reaching over to very carefully pick the bottle from the sink's edge, "Just lean your head back and close your damn eyes, woman."

Lola scoots her bottom to the edge of the chair, leaning back with a flinch and a gasp, one hand moving to hold over her belly where the bullet passed through. "Well that weren' very smart," she says, looking up at him a moment before closing her eyes, as she was told. "Who blew up a van? An why was ya standin' near it?" She asks, white teeth biting down harshly on her lower lip - the position isn't really good for her belly, but she's trying to do what she's told. "I don' mean ta make this all about me again, but…ya didn' bring me no tequila, didja…." Just asking!

A soft grunt from Cardinal, "Some idiots on Staten Island. I told Shard that this whole charity bullshit wasn't a good idea, but he was insistent… I think White's picked him up anyway, the fuckin' idiot, which leaves everything to me." He sounds entirely irritated about the entire situation. The dye's applied carefully to her hair once she's settled, and he murmurs quietly, "Careful…"

Lola nods, breathing through teeth. "Ah am," she promises him, not sounding contradictory. "Ah ain' popped a one yet, which given they streach anytime I sit or stand or breathe, is kinda a miracle unto itself an all." She opens her eyes again, dark gaze blinking as she watches him upside down, and right up his nostrils, really. "I kin help," she volunteers, to everyone's surprise - including her own. "I mean, I dunno how much. I kin shoot this White fellah though, if he's killin' folks as much as everyone says he is. Takin' down buildings an whatnot, seems an awful lot like killin. Course if he ain' killin, maybe I can just rob him or somethin…"

Cardinal gives his head a tight shake, "Oh, there were people in those buildings. The police were digging them out of the rubble for days, the ones that they could still find. Elisabeth was tracking their heartbeats to find any survivors…" A sigh stirs on his breath as he works the dye in, "I wouldn't mind some sniper backup when we move on the sonuvabitch. Most of his followers aren't monsters, just— fuckin' misguided as hell by him."

"Ah kin do kneecaps," she suggests, turning her head to glance up at him again, but flinching once more and turning to sit straight forward, hand leaving a coppery smear over her sleeping shirt. "Aw that one really hurt.." she breathes between gritted teeth. "So long as ya don' need me ta climb no stairs or run or nothin…." she chuckles, shaking her head. "This is ridiculous, Ah was just gettin' over my last damn gunshots…"

Gingerly, the girl somewhere between black-haired and red-haired sits back and lets Cardinal continue his work. "That shit'll stain yer hands if ya don' wear gloves, sug, it's what the box says."

"I am wearing gloves," Cardinal points out, not that she could see from her position. He is, too, thin leather gloves more fashionable than pragmatic, although they eliminate fingerprints. That's the real reason he wears them, after all. "I'll get you fixed up," he grunts, "Things're just fuckin' crazy right now, is all, woman."

Now comes the moment of awkward silence. Lola hates these moments, but it really does have to come. Now's as good of a time as any, all things considered, to get it out of the way. "Listen, sugar. Ah gotta say that thing..ya know the one," she sighs. "Ah'm…sayin' thanks, sugar. Ya don' know me an don' got no reason ta help me since I already done toldja what I know but…ya didn' let that smarmy old fart kill me that night an…Ah real appreciate it an all. So…thank ya," she shifts, nervously in her seat, apparently the whole situation makes her squirmy. Idly, she tugs down the hem of her oversized shirt.

A faint chuckle stirs upon Cardinal's lips, and he murmurs, "You're welcome." The dye's applied, and he tosses the bottle into the trash, "Alright. Follow the rest of the directions now, I think."

Lola reaches out, picking up the box and smearing away some of the dye. "Wait five minutes an rinse it off…feck…." she grumbles, setting the box on the sink again, turning a bit and putting her hands between her knees. She gazes up at Cardinal a moment, biting the inside of her cheek. "An now Ah gotta ask…what's goin' on wif Linderman? An…what exactly am I supposed ta do now? Just..hope nobody what ever knew my name sees me ever?"

Cardinal steps over to the sink, reaching in to wash his gloves off. As the faucet runs, he glances sidelong to Lola with a wry smile, noting, "I think you're underestimating the size of New York. Chances are, you won't - you haven't even lived here that long. Just avoid Linderman properties and you should be fine."

Slowly, Lola stands, stepping out of the bathroom to breathe air that isn't infested with every type of mother-loving chemical known to man. She walks over to the window, where two bushels of flowers are sitting in their respective water - the roses from Kain and the wildflowers from Diogenes, the latter of which are starting to wilt. She waters them both. "An what happens if…Andrew, or someone seees me? I mean there's a ton a folks what know me…I don' want it gettin' back around, ya know? Ah mean, we don' even know why he wants ta kill me."

"Andrew? Hell, he even knows where you're staying," Cardinal observes, his voice emerging from the bathroom before he does, shaking the gloves off to dry them, "He's an alright guy, not about to turn your fine ass in to Linderman. Just… lay low. I'll take care of things."

Lola sets the water continer down, turning to face Cardinal once more. She seems completely unabashed about being in little more than an oversized shirt. But she's also injured, withdrawaling, and covered in dye so it's not really an issue anyway. "I s'poze, Ah mean Ah got an idea or two 'bout somethin' I always wanted ta try that ain' got nothin' ta do with Linderman or anyone else." She moves to a nearby chair, gently easing herself into it. "Ah just…Ah dunno. Ah feel stuck, ya know? Stuck an scared."

Cardinal leans his hip onto the couch, settling on its arm and scratching at the side of his neck. "What sort've ideas? And— you're not. Just relax, go about your business, avoid Daniel's places… it'll all blow over soon." A tired smile, "Trust me."

Lola shuffles a bit, glancing down so her voice is muttered. "Just some ideas…" she drawls, quickly thinking of a good distraction. One is thought up and delivered rather quickly. "Oh! I was wonderin', ya said somethin', back at the hospital that if I behaved ya might got a jacuzzi for me?" She points to her scalp. "Well mah drapes don' match mah carpet no more, figure that's behavin' as much as any girl ever did."

At that, Cardinal exhales an amused snort of breath. "After you stop bleeding every time you stretch too much," he drawls, "We'll see. Being a good girl means avoiding getting yourself put in the hospital yet again - and oh, you don't shave?" He tries not to grin. Fails.

Lola flushes bright red as she looks down, tugging her shirt down over herself, as if to cover her legs. "Ah shaved my legs the day I got shot," she shoots back, giving him the middle finger as she stomps toward the bedroom, opening her bag and throwing some clothes around as she looks for some pants. "Feckin' jackass. Shoot him three times an see if he's all worried 'bout lookin' princely."

Cardinal's lips twitch in a grin at the blush, and then glance down. "I've been hurt way worse before," he shrugs one shoulder, watching her walk away, "You should've seen me after Logan got through with me…"

Lola steps back out, hopping a few times as she pulls her jeans up, stopping in the doorway to look down and do up the small zipper and button there. "Bet ya looked like shit," she comments, sneering at him once more. "An my legs are fine. Ain like you're gonna be strokin' 'em anyway so it ain' none a yer business." Yeah, be mean, and she might not sleep with you! "Now c'mon, help me get this shit outta my hair, huh?"

Cardinal pushes off the couch's arm and to his feet with a chuckle, sauntering along over towards the bathroom. Back over his shoulder, he notes as he steps inside to get the shower running, "…I didn't mean your legs."

At first, the girl seems confused. She lifts her arm, checking her pits. But then she gets it, and she growls, stalking behind him with a throw pillow from the couch, which she promptly hits him with, even if it does cause her to double over and hold her gut. "Well Ah hope ya enjoyed lookin, then, cause it's the last look ye'll ever get. Jackass…" she grumbles, holding onto the sink as she tries to get the pain to subside.

As the pillow's smacked against his head, Cardinal ducks his head with a laugh — reaching out to grab her arm to help steady her, then, laugh fading into a low chuckle, "Didn't look at anything. You're the one who was talking about the carpet, darlin'."

Shave? Carpet? Ooohhh. She holds onto him now, slowly using her weight agianst his to rise and stand up. "Ow. Owowow…" she grumbles, wrinkling her nose. "Well I got enough of a carpet ta know it ain' red. Ain' got a fellah ta be rippin' it off a my body fer no-how, an till I do, Imma keep bein' a right fake redhead." She notes, leaning her forehead against Cardinal's forarm. "Ah, fuckin' burns…."

Cardinal stands there to support her, fingers sliding over her back as he murmurs quietly, "You'll be fine, just take it easy. We'll get you fixed up and jumping around like a lunatic in no time, babe. C'mon, let's get your head in the water before you turn orange."

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