Participants:
| Scene Title | Dead Men Walking |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | It's hard knowing who your allies are, sometimes. Cardinal checks another one. |
| Date | June 21, 2009 |
A figure whose features are shadowed a bit by a fedora leans against the side of a building, just exhuding suspiciousness— and so, of course, nobody really gives it much thought. After all, real spies tend to be a bit more subtle. There's even a trenchcoat, a bit weather stained, the man's right arm folded across its breast with the hand tucked into an underarm, the other hand lifting with a shake of the sleeve to check the watch before he looks down the block, watching for a certain man.
Richard Cardinal's a patient man, one has to be in his old line of work. But events are happening very quickly, these days.
It's like Sesame Street. Felix will walk by, Cardinal will beckon with a whisper, and open his coat to expose the big letter A under his arm. Or…..no? But Fel is punctual, exceedingly so. Even though it's only been a moment or two since he left the building, he's stripped off his tie with the haste of Clark Kent bolting for his phone booth with Lois somewhere to save, and opened the throat of his shirt. How he hates those damn things, even though his has a subtle Edward Gorey print on the navy silk. He's walking as briskly as he can manage, in the late afternoon heat, pushing his glasses up his nose with a fingertip, irritably.
"You never were suited for a tie, Ivanov." The words are quiet but audible as the other man starts past where Cardinal's leaning, the edge of a smile tilting his lips but nothing more than that. He pushes off the wall slightly, inviting himself along to match the pace, "Mind a word?"
Felix slows a little, like a horse balking. "Not at all," he says, quietly, automatically ducking into the shade of the building he's by. It's way, way too hot. "What news?"
"It's been a long couple've weeks," Richard replies, his right hand coming out from under his arm; the edge of the coat sliding back from the bandaged stump of his wrist to reveal the reason for the entirely unseasonable garment he's wearing. He's probably sweating, but there's a few days' worth of grime on him already anyway. And the scent of old blood. He could use a shower. "Spent some time as Logan's guest. Then I had a li'l run in with Arthur Petrelli." The arm's waggled, then it drops down to his side. He makes an attempt to sound casual, but there's a roughness and a tension to his voice.
"I am going to kill Logan," Felix's voice is bizarrely conversational. People who carry badges and guns aren't supposed to say things like that, are they? He punctuates it with a sickly grin that's supposed to indicate he's just joking, hahaha. And only serves to make him look like he should be Hannibal Lecter's apprentice. "I've heard of this Arthur. Which one of them took your hand?"
"Arthur." The stump tucks into Cardinal's pocket to hide it, his head shaking just a little at the other man's words, "Good luck, take some pictures for me— it's Arthur Petrelli that I'm worried about. You've heard of the Midtown Man, right? Kills you, takes your abilities?" A hesitation, and he looks back across the street, "Arthur doesn't bother killing you first."
Hugh's lips pull back over his teeth. It should be a smile. It's a chimpanzee grimace of threat, really, though not directed at Cardinal, per se. "Interesting," he says, before he forces that smile away.
"I told you 'bout him last time we talked," Cardinal says in a quiet, absent voice, keeping himself slightly detached as his gaze follows random passers-by and cars without seeing them, "Plans fell through; things're going too fast. They're… anyway, I'm working on that. I might need some help along the way. Not too many people I can rely on anymore. They can smell the storm in the air, puttin' up boards on their windows."
Fel inclines his head to that, presumably assent. "What do you need?" he asks. It isn't meant to be an existential question, but somehow, it does come out that way.
A bit of a smile, to that. "Someone to fucking listen," Cardinal murmurs; then he turns his head to the other man, chin tilting, "I won't ask you to get involved in any of the really illegal shit. Not going to make you risk your job. Right now— right now, what I need is Tyler Case's file. Everything; background, addresses, photographs, living relations. I might be able to get you, him, and Bebe all together, too."
Files? All you ask for is files? Clearly, by the way Felix's usually severe face has lit up, Cardinal could've asked for oral sex as well, and likely gotten it. "That'll take a bit," he says, quietly. "HomeSec yanked a lot of it when they shut us down. I've got hard copy, though."
"If there's stuff that's not on the files, I'd like that too…" Cardinal turns his head a bit to regard the other man, a brow lifting, "I just need you to promise not to flip out on them. They've both been through hell."
"I just want my power back," Felix says, simply. "That's all. I'll do what I can."
"If it makes you feel better, it saved my life," Richard admits with a wan sort of smile, "Quite possibly the world— hell, maybe that was the whole reason behind it. Guess we'll see. Give me a call, an' I'll set things up."
Felix peers at Richard at that. "Wait, what? What do you mean?"
"I wasn't alone when I met Arthur, Ivanov," replies the thief, pushing off the wall and starting to walk away, "That power of yours let her save my ass. Pity it takes more'n a few shotgun rounds to put him down for good— but I'll find a way. Watch yourself, man. Things're gettin' deep."
Felix offers another of those rictus grins, and a chuff of breath that might be a laugh. "Listen. There was another cop on that case - Kaydence Damaris. She might no more, but give me a little time to work. Liz….Liz has most of the info, I think, though. And hell, you know me. I'm a dead man walking."
"That makes two of us, then," Cardinal replies with a dry laugh of his own, arms stretching out to either side of him as he strolls away, the fingers of his lone hand splayed through the air, "So tonight, the dead don't walk alone." They fall back to his side, his head tilting forward in a low chuckle as he walks.
"You made that sound like a pass," Felix points out, lips pursing in amusement. "No offense, man," he adds, slanting a look at Cardinal over the tops of his glasses. Clearly this bitch needs bifocals.
"Sorry," Cardinal calls back over his shoulder with a smirk, "Your love life's complicated enough. I'll be in touch."