Girly Woowoo Shit


cat2_icon.gif claire3_icon.gif elisabeth2_icon.gif

Scene Title Girly Woowoo Shit
Synopsis Liz, Claire and Cat have a rather girly discussion while clearing out the living quarters of Marion Island. Men, spa dates and living forever is just some of it.
Date January 07, 2010

Marion Island

According to the marines, the place is cleared. So now it's a matter of going back through all the rooms and looking for anything of interest. Papers, computers, intel. All of these things have to be at least looked at. As she walks down the hall with Claire, Elisabeth has her M-16 slung over her shoulder on its strap. They've been kicking in doors for a half an hour and finding pretty much nothing. "I hope Richard's having better luck finding the command center," she comments with a quirk of a grin. The radio crackles in her ear with other teams relaying back their finds — which don't seem all that as yet.

"I don't have a doubt he'll find it." Keeping up with the other blonde, Claire's own M-16 is held at her side, as if she can't relax her guard. A finger lifts to push up her kevlar helmet making it sit at an odd angle. Of course as always her armor and clothing are riddled with holes and soaked in regenerator's blood. "So Liz? Can I ask you something?" Even though they have only just come off the fight not so long ago, Claire's tone and demeanor are casual, but then she spent over a month being shot at.

"Magnes… What was my thinking there?" She asks, arching a brow at Elisabeth. "He doesn't seem the type I picture myself with… well… not that I really picture myself with anyone. He's overly emotional and seems a bit detached from reality." Rifle comes up and is cradled across her other arm. "I mean… I must have had some sort of reason. I can't see it yet… granted I've only talked to him less then a handful of times… "

Considering that in the twenty rooms they've kicked doors in on, they've seen nothing at all useful or remotely dangerous, Elisabeth figures they're in position to ease off just a bit. They appear to be in the living quarters. Bunks and makeshift dressers, clothes on the floor in places. Elisabeth's helmet also remains on, though, and her blue eyes are ever-watchful in this. She's not taking their safety for granted. She pauses next to a room where the door's locked again and looks at Claire when she asks if she can ask something. A querying brow raises and invites the younger woman to ask away. And then the question is about Magnes.

It makes Elisabeth hesitate a moment and while she searches for an answer, she proceeds to put her boot firmly to the door in front of her, splintering the lock with a couple of good kicks. "I told you before that he's a good kid. He is a good bit detached from reality — he thinks he knows what's going on and he wants to make things better. He just…. has zero tact and experience in anything, so he kind of runs about like a bull in a china shop." She steps into the room to start rifling through some man's gear, just to be thorough. "You never really told me what you saw in him, but … from my observations of the two of you, I think…. maybe he represented the life you didn't get to have. I think that… he was someone you had fun with, he was really sweet on you, and …. " She looks up at Claire, saying frankly, "I think you wanted and needed a little adoration with no complicated crap attached."

Claire just kind of "Huhs" at the situation laid out for her. "I do remember after that woman brought me back, thinking things needed to change… I dunno. I feel like shit for not remembering." A sound off to her left grabs her attention and she glances over at a set of lockers. Leaning over she taps, Liz on the shoulder and motions in that direction. She starts making her way over to the lockers, stepping as softly as she can, "I mean, he seems really nice, but he mentioned me making him shoot me to prove I didn't need protection. I think I've proven time and again that I'm not a damsel in distress.. well… except around Sylar." She admits blandly. "… but you know what I mean."

Weapon raised she stands directly in front of the locker and motions with her head for Liz to open it. "I guess West was a little like him, but not… to that extreme. Sometimes I wonder if I was looking for that again."

"Course, Magnes mentioned he flies.. could be a daddy issue."

The sound brings Elisabeth's head up and her M-16 comes off her shoulder even as she moves with Claire. The conversation continues, sounding as easygoing as ever, and Elisabeth holds the rifle in her hands with a casual competency. "Well, I suppose we all have daddy issues some of the time," she replies dryly. "I'm probably not the best person to ask about relationship advice. I'm not even usually serially monogamous. Although, to be fair, there's a decade in there that I can't remember what kind of men I dated. I gather that there've been a lot of them." She grins cheekily, moving to the side of the locker and putting her hand on the latch. She nods 'one,' 'two,' 'three.' "Falling for Richard was the last thing on my agenda." She yanks open the door, ducking sideways out of the way.

As the door is yanked open, gunfire erupts making Claire stumbled back or step or two as several new holes blossom across the front of her. She glances down at her vest and sticks a finger in one of the holes and sighs. "I go through more of these…. One day they will start charging me for them. " She comments as she looks up at the man in the locker, M-16 coming up to point at the wide eyes man, a small grin on her lips, the look in her eyes and a waggle of her brows says she's got him, but she doesn't pull the trigger.

There is the metallic sound of metal hitting the floor which draws the man's eyes down and his mouth hangs open as he watches the bloody bullets spit out of the regenerator's body. Panic grips him then and he points the gun at her again.

Elisabeth instinctive rolls backward away from the gunfire, and then can't help but laugh softly when Claire gets all smart-ass. Shaking her head, she murmurs, "Christ." She doesn't bother to warn Claire, merely wrapping the two of them in a silence bubble and creating a small-scale sonic *BOOM!* inside the locker the man hides in. It rattles the whole bank of lockers, literally deafening him and making him drop his weapon to try and protect his ears. Futile effort, really, and the pain of bursting eardrums send him falling forward out of the locker. Liz makes no effort to stop him from landing, pursing her lips mildly.

Keying on the throat mic, she says casually into it, "Clean-up on aisle four. We're in section…." She looks around. "Looks like hallway D2." And then she steps over the crumpled form on the floor who has a wet spot in his pants where he urinated in fear and a bloody nose from the sonic boom. "Personally, I think if they try to charge you for them, you should tell them you'll charge them for each bullet you spit back out," she says calmly.

"Can't agree with you more, I dunno how many bullets I spit out in Madagascar…" Claire comments without missing a step. She nudges the body with the butt end of her rifle, seemingly satisfied he's down. Crouching, she reaches into a thigh pocket and tugs out a couple of white zip ties for just this situation, showing more mercy then they would have.

As she tugs his wrists into place behind his back, Claire continues their conversation before they were so rudely interrupted. "And I dated him for five months without having sex?" She shakes her head as she pulls a tie tight, slipping the other through it before positioning the hand. "Why is my question? What the hell was the hold up?"

There are footsteps coming around the corner some seconds after that sonic boom, belonging to a Marine-clad woman of more height than the two she's intersecting with. Arms are carried, though she has a clip or three less ammo than she did when they entered the Vanguard's former turf. Just in time to see the man tumble out of the locker. Cat looks at him, then the two women, and takes a moment to think.

"Prisoners would be good. They could be compelled to clean up the bodies," she dryly states, then glances over at Claire. "Maybe you were waiting for him to learn a thing or two," she suggests, "I doubt he'd last very long at first. Young guys, little experience…" She looses a chuckle. "Hair trigger. But they get hard again fast."

Covering Claire while she ties him up, Liz's eyes slip up to the hallway and her M-16 gets pointed at the door until she sees Cat. Then the muzzle points away again. Laughing softly at the answer, Elisabeth chips in her two cents to the question. "I think you knew the relationship wasn't going anywhere — again the idea there that you needed uncomplicated adoration, someone to make you feel appreciated. He did that very well, but you were already chafing at the fact that he felt constantly compelled to "rescue" you and shit, even before you got shot." She pauses and grins at Cat cheekily. "And you strike me as the type, Claire, for whom sex the first time will be a very big deal." She pats the younger girl on the shoulder and walks toward her roommate. "Find anything interesting?"

The sound of a voice, makes Claire jump to her feet and swing around M-16 coming up. Once she sees who it standing there, she relaxes, letting the rifle lower to her side. The dark haired woman gets a lopsided smile. "Hello Cat." The helmet is pushed up as she brushes a hand across her forehead, there was a conversation like this would have made her blush something fierce.. but after dressing and undressing, not to mention showing in front of so many of Vanguards men, it doesn't seem so bad.

"I… guess you're right. Truthfully, since I got shot I don't know what is what anymore." The man at their feet is given another nudge and she gives a soft groan. "Like who I was and what I am are two totally different people. I think he sees it too. Either way, I'll see if I can find what it was about him when we get back to New York. Only fair really."

"Anyhow.. yes… Cat, anything worth the time?"

"Not yet," Cat mutters in reply. "But that won't be the case for long. Have there been many like this one lurking around?" Eyes go down the corridor, then return to the others. "If he loves you, if he's worthy of your time, seeing you happy should be as important, if not more important, than anything else," the panmnesiac muses. "And you might feel the same for him." She's turning more somber at the talk of relations, but doesn't show it much. It's a matter of a degree or two difference in her demeanor.

"Sometimes even then, other things are more important than that. So I recommend if the guy gets your motor running in that way, indulge. Our lives are short, his is short. Yours isn't. If he respects you, sees you as an equal, you could consider longer term relations."

"In any case, your body, your life."

Elisabeth rolls her eyes and nudges Cat with her free shoulder, the M-16 propped up on the one farthest from the brunette. "Always with the clinical, you." She looks over her shoulder to assess Claire's state of readiness to move on, then back to Cat. "Nope, that's the only one we've found so far. But if they want any intel out of him, they'll have to write their questions," she comments. "He may be permanently deaf." She doesn't sound like she cares much one way or the other.

"Yeah I know.. I'll outlive you all." Claire concedes with a bland tone as she steps forward to follow Elisabeth. "I do envy your ability…" she comments to the other blonde, her mouth tugged to once side with a smirk. "Not sure being indestructible will be all it's cracked up to be one hundred years down the line when I'm having to make new connections and friends.” Straightening her kevlar helmet again, frowning, she adds “Part of me thinks I should avoid relationships all together, but… I doubt I'll be able to. I may be immortal, but I'm still human."

"I think you can handle it," Cat remarks. "It's also opportunity. Different lifetimes, different lives. Reinvent yourself for each of them. Be a badass Hollywood stuntwoman in this lifetime, a hotshot surgeon in the next. Or a University president. Few people will have a better grasp on history from the 21st century and forward. Your biggest challenge, I think, will be in not getting jaded. To not see the simple pleasures as boring because you've done it all and still look twenty years old. And to keep your ego in check." In her mind as she speaks is a certain man, one whose name she doesn't mention, but Elisabeth might know who she refers to.

"It's all about making new memories, and not letting yourself dwell too much on older ones." This, a thing Cat already practices, and she isn't even timeless.

"Fffft," Elisabeth snorts mildly. "It's useful enough," she acknowledges. "Hell, it got me a new job, I guess. But… sometimes it's not as cool as it appears. I just…. learned how to wield it best advantage." Her expression softens as Cat puts into eloquent words what Claire may in fact face. "Take a lesson from the Highlander series, maybe," she offers to Claire. "Not quite the same circumstances, but the same idea."

"Time will tell, I imagine." Claire gives a shrug, rifle held tightly in her hands. "I… guess I should just look at it as living in the moment and worry only about the future on occasion. But, I will admit, it's scary to think that time stretches out before me. A long road." She sighs, expression going somewhat distant, but then she gives herself a shake. "Not going to worry about it now, come on… they don't pay us to stand around the water cooler." She flashes them a grin and starts out the door.

"Highlander," Cat opines, "good movie." She walks along after Claire, remarking "It was funny, when they had the segment where Connor meets up with some guy he'd not seen in a century or so, they laugh and reminisce. The duel where he gets drunk and is shot several times by his opponent, always getting up, before he finally gets bored and apologizes for the insult that caused it all." Then she shakes her head. "Shame the producers didn't pay attention to the tagline all over the film. There can be only one!"

"So, anyway, Claire," Cat asks to change the subject, "what're you doing for your twenty-first birthday?"

Elisabeth rolls her eyes and mutters, "Fuck 'em. They're not PAYING us at all, kiddo. Our payment comes at the end, when the world is NOT under water." She grins a bit. "But I do love a good search and destroy mission." They've been making a huge mess, rifling through every room in this place. "We're taking her drinking, of course — and for a pedicure too! Cuz I haven't had a good pedicure in ages." She follows Claire out the door.

"On my twenty first birthday?" Claire sounds amused by the question. "I am going to march into Old Lucy's drop my ID on the counter in front of Abigail and ask for a beer." She gives both women a smug look as she walks along, "Cause she can't say no anymore."

Chuckling then, Claire slows enough to bring her along side Liz, and rests her kevlar topped head on her shoulder giving her a rather cute puppy look. "Pedicure and facial? Please? Pretty please.. Oh wait.. " Her head comes up and she clutches the rifle to her hugging it. "Spa date." The blood and camo covered girl says whistfully.

"Then strippers."

"I have plans," Cat remarks mysteriously, not commenting on two twenty-firsts coming close together this year. Nor does she elaborate on what they might be, or where. A mild grin forms as she checks out the hallway ahead for signs of hostile presence and whatever interesting contents might be found. Offices, etc.

"Woman, there's no way in hell I'm waiting for your birthday for a spa day. Let's do that as soon as we get home." Elisabeth looks at Cat, silently asking if she's in. "Strippers and beer wait til your birthday, and OF COURSE it's Lucy's for drunkenness. Cuz, you know, BAR DANCING!" She waggles her brows. "Can you see Richard's face if I get up there and dance?" She dies laughing.

"And karaoke." Claire adds, as she steps in front of the door and does a sweep of the area with her weapon. "Clear… And seriously, I do think his jaw would drop… and I would be seeking sleep else where that night." It's a moment that a little bit of per-trip Claire shines through.

Finally, she swings her weapon up on her shoulder by the strap and faces the other two. "If and when we get back, for sure a spa date, cause… I'm going to need it. My nails have looked like shit since I jumped out of that plane." One of the hands in question comes up and she makes the motion of looking over broken and tattered nails.

Old Lucy's and dancing on the bar there. Karaoke. Suuuure, Cat thinks, that'll happen. She has other plans, and time to work on them. Three months and change. Not a word is spoken, there's just this slight grin showing. They'll find out when the time comes.

A few corridors later, after finding another Vanguardite or two, Cat parts company with the shorter and blonder ones, to head for the carrier and visit Eileen Ruskin. Breakfast too. She's hungry.

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