Herding Cats

Participants:

adam_icon.gif cardinal_icon.gif michaelgreen_icon.gif

Scene Title Herding Cats
Synopsis One man defects; another regains something lost.
Date June 27, 2009

A phone rings, in the late afternoon. This particular phone is one whose number is listed, in Cardinal's contact list, as belonging to one Adam Monroe. A figure of some interest to many in the city. It's been awhile since the caller ID registered this particular number calling this phone, however.

Adam was busy doing this thing or another, we'll say he was practicing with a sword. At any rate, he picks up the phone after a moment and says, "Hello. What can I do for you."

"Monroe." There's a tired note to Richard's voice, "Been a bit. How's it going?"

"Just a bit," Cardinal exhales a faint snort of breath, "You still working for— sorry, with— Arthur, by any chance?"

Adam hmms, "Well, those things are never quite clear. I think that Arthur has quite a bit more to worry about than whether or not I'm still on the payroll. Why do you ask?"

Cardinal makes a thoughtful sound, "There's been some… interesting developments, I thought you might want to know about, regarding Arthur and his little enterprise."

Adam hmms, "Oh? Please do go on. I so love when people dish."

"Not over the phone," Cardinal grunts, "There's technopaths sniffing around lately, it's not secure. Meet somewhere neutral?"
Adam mms, "Alright. Where to?"

"How's Old Lucy's sound? It's fuckin' loud as hell there, nobody could overhear us," Cardinal suggests.

"Alright. Meet you there in a bit."

Click.


Old Lucy's

Old Lucy's has a vibrant and lively feel to it, from the dark wooden floors to the shady crimson walls lit up by neon lights and many times, the flashing of cameras from the oft-crowded floor. The mirror behind the bar reflects prices of various drinks, bottles lined up, as well as the entire saloon as seen from the bartenders; bolted-down stools line the other side, and there are loose tables and chairs placed all around, though many times they find themselves pushed back for more space within the center of the saloon. A few speakers are placed at strategic places and around a raised stage to the far corner from the bar. Above the counter, an obviously well-used bar is hung; it is this that the girls working will use should there be dancing, which is one reason many patrons choose to come aside from the drinks. Across the bar and near the back, there is a door that leads to the owner's office and just inside a stairwell that leads a apartment on the floor above the bar.


Some time later, Richard's settled into a shaded corner of the bar in question; the drinks are flowing, there's a girl dancing on the bar tossing bottles around like a pro, and the voices of the regulars mingle with the music to serve as a constant background white noise. He's in new clothes; new jacket, new shirt, new jeans. He's leaning back in his chair, maimed arm behind his head to better conceal the missing hand, the other wrapped around a beer bottle as he watches the crowd for the man he's meeting.
Adam enters into the bar some time later. He's followed by some goons as he normally is. He looks around the bar for some moments, adjusting his jacket and then spots Cardinal. He looks the man over as he approaches the table and sits down in a chair opposite, "Well, it looks like you've cleaned up rather well."

"I had to burn my old clothes," Cardinal replies bluntly, his arm dropping back from behind his head to land on the table— hand gone, wrist a bandage-wrapped stump. The other arm folds over it as he slouches forward, "They were too covered in blood."
Adam tilts his head for some moments and indicates, "Richard, you appear to have misplaced your hand."

Cardinal's head tilts just so, and he deadpans, "Arthur took offense to my offer of a sandwich."
Adam hmms, "The man always lacked for a sense of humor. Well, it appears you have quite a story to tell." he motions to Michael, the goon who looks in charge of the goons, "Why don't we have some drinks and you can give me all the sordid details."

"A friend of mine killed him for it, but I'm afraid it didn't take," Cardinal snorts a bit, "Fuckin' regenerators. No offense, of course. The man has more abilities than anyone has any right to…" A tilt of his head to the goon taking the orders, "Bourbon an' coke."
Adam nods a bit, "Well, they aren't his. Not rightfully." he says off handedly. "So, how is it you came to be in Arthur's path?" he questions, "No offense, but you're a bit small fish for Arthur to appear to care about."

Cardinal's lips twitch in the faintest of smiles. "There's a few parables about that sort've thing, I think, but I never really listened to the nuns that closely…" A slight shake of his head, "I've recently been in touch with some— time travellers. Not Nakamura, there was some accident at Moab, knocked several people into the future."
Adam arches a brow, "Time travelers? Well, that's quite an experience. And what did they time travelers tell you that was so important that Arthur decided to take your hand?"

Cardinal shrugs one shoulder, "Arthur wins, in the future they saw. It's a bright shiny happy fascist future with Papa Petrelli sitting behind the scenes plucking people off the street if they don't do what he wants, from what I understand." A faint snort, "The Company, writ large, and with full control of the government, basically. Only his Company is called Pinehearst."
Adam seems to find this amusing for some reason as the drinks come. He didn't ask for his, but he's delivered a beer with a picture of cherries on it. He drinks it a bit before he says, "How interesting." he says, "Personally, I have my doubts that such a future can come to pass, but I suppose I have my own reasons for that. The question would have to be, how can information about him winning drive him to vindictiveness…I can only assume they've come to warn us about an impending future?"

"Something like that," Cardinal admits wryly, "I may have warned Agent Parkman about the situation, and… given that the last time we met, Arthur'd become a telepath, I'm guessing he didn't listen to me. He's probably wrapping up loose ends at the moment, and saw me as one." The drink set down is one he accepts, bringing it up in a casual salute to the goons before taking a sip.
Adam nods a bit, "Oh, he got Parkman, yes." he says in reply. "Although, Parkman appears to have slipped through Arthur's grasp." he lets out a sigh, "I suppose it's time to switch sides. I don't suppose there's any sort of organized resistance, just a separate group of heroes everywhere that will converge in confusion?"

Cardinal grunts slightly, "Figures. He escaped? Molly, too? I can't see him going without her…" Another sip of his drink, and then he's exhaling a chuckle to the glass, "Something like that. Some of us are ensuring that all the varied groups are going in the right direction, though. Someone has to make sure they converge at the correct moment. There're plans and contingencies in place."
Adam mms, "No, he wouldn't leave without her. Not sure how, but he did." he pauses for some moment as he leans back thoughtfully, "Well, sounds like quite the escapade. And how will you ensure that all thsi happens?" he questions, "Sounds like herding cats to me."

"Fortunately," Cardinal replies a bit dryly, "That's not my job. I'd go insane and start shooting people if it was, probably. I've my own parts of things I'm taking care of, I just figured you might be interested in part of the action." A smile quirks at the edge of his raised glass, "Arthur and Maury are on that list of yours, as I recall, after all."
Adam mms, "Well, there are quite a few names. So what part is it you're hoping I'll play in all this?"

Cardinal shrugs slightly, "I suppose you'll play whatever part you like. If you could get me some information about the Pinehearst facility, though, and the personages of importance that he's got working for him… I can pass it on to the dramatic heroes of Phoenix who're so eager to leap in and save the day." Dry, "I'd rather they risk themselves than me, personally."
Adam nods a bit, "I'm interested in talking to Helena Dean." he says, "Can you make that happen?" he questions.

Cardinal raises the glass in an easy toast to the other man, allowing, "I'll make a few calls and make the arrangements. It shouldn't be too difficult." A pause, "They won't be terribly fond of you, but I suspect they'll see the value behind the whole 'mutual enemy' thing."
Adam nods, "I imagine so.." he pauses after a few moments, "Do you want me to.." he motions to the missing hand, "You know, fix that? Or are you going to be going for a pirate theme?"

"You can do that?" A startled blink, from Cardinal, as he sits up straighter suddenly, "I thought you were a regenerator, I didn't realize it… worked on others, as well."

Adam shrugs a bit, "It's not…" he shakes his head as if he doesn't want to explain it, "Do you want my help or not?"

Cardinal nods once, curtly, "If you can. Abigail's… lost her ability, for the moment, so the list of accessable healers is rather low."
Adam hmms a bit, "Alright." he says, finishing his beer, "Outside." he stands from his seat, "And, I would appreciate your discretion, Richard." and with that, he makes his way outside along with the rest of his goons.

Cardinal's good hand plants to the table, and he pushes himself up to his feet. "Discretion," he allows, rather wryly as he moves to walk with the rest of the goons, "Is one thing that I'm good at. If half of what I knew ever got out…"
Once outside, the goons start to mill about. Only Michael accompanies Adam to the trunk of a car. The trunk is lifted and they do something back there, something super sekrit. Eventually, it's not so secret. The trunk closes and Adam holds out a rather large and intimidating syringe that appears to be full of a darkly colored liquid. He pauses, "I do hope you aren't afraid of needles."

The syringe is regarded with a rather suspicious look from Cardinal— and then he exhales a faint chuckle, some private joke stirring a dark humor behind his eyes. "If I am, I'd better get over it. The future demands it, apparently," he comments enigmatically, "Do I want to ask what it is?"

Adam smiles, "It's my own concoction." he says after some moments, "A little bit of this, a little bit of that." really, it's all just his blood, but why be so open about it? "It's the height of medical technology, I assure you."

Cardinal exhales a rough snort of breath. "I'll take your word for it." A hesitation, and then he pulls the sleeve of his jacket back up, giving the syringe another glance, "…any side effects I should be aware of?"
Adam leans back against his car and considers Cardinal with a bit of an amused look. "Any diseases you've got should be cured. So, if you were hoping to pass on any herpes, that'll be shot." he seems to find great hilarity in this thought as he chuckles, "Oh, and you'll probably be awake for a day or so. You'll have yourself quite a bit of energy."

"Given the pace that I'm working at lately," Cardinal admits with a faint snort of amusement, "That should come in handy. Alright. I think I can live with 'inhuman healthiness'."

Adam mms, "Well, it's not permanent." he replies, "It just cures what ails you." he pauses, "Are you sure you want to justkeep staring at the needle? I'm pretty sure these things have a shelf life."

"Alright, alright," Cardinal reaches out to accept the needle, "Got something I can use for a tournequet?"
Adam considers that. "Uh…" he glances over towards one of the non leadership goons, "Frankie, give him your belt, will you?" the larger man looks up and appears quite non plussed, "My belt?" Adam just shrugs and it begrudgingly is offered to Cardinal. Adam takes the time to sit up on the rear of his vehicle as he watches Cardinal with some interest.

Cardinal has, clearly, done this before. While he's no junkie, he's no stranger to recreational pharmecuticals, because in no time flat he's shrugged his jacket off, pulled his arm up and applied the belt to the upper arm in a tight sinch. The needle's considered for a moment, and then he leans against one of the other cars, sliding the steel tip into a vein and slowly depressin the plunger, jaw tensing from the sharp sting of the puncture.

Adam continues to watch as do the rest of the goons. there seems to be a bit of informal betting as to what exactly will happen to Cardinal, since only Michael is privy to what this actually is that the thief is injecting himself with.

The plunger reaches bottom, and Cardinal pulls it back out; fingers sliding up to undo the belt's buckle awkwardly with the syringe still in hand, tossing the leather thong of a belt over towards Frankie. "Thanks. I don't feel… mnm. That's kind of…. weird." As the warmth of evolved blood mingles with his, he brings a hand up to scratch at the stump of his other, peeling the bandages off carefully. Well, it's suppose to regrow the hand, whatever it is, so the gauze would probably just be in the way.

Frankie grunts and puts his belt back on grudgingly, but he's still interested in if Cardinal is poisoned. "I don't think you're quite used to it, Richard. I think you might want to sit down." he says without much passion. His head tilts his head for a moment, "Oh yeah, that'll probably itch." indicating the stump.

Another suspicious glance is slanted over towards the immortal, but Cardinal's fairly certain he hasn't been poisoned— he hasn't set up a meeting with Helena yet, after all. The thief steps over to drop down beside the back wall of the building, then, leaning back and resting his arm on his knee. Oh yeah. There's an itch. He resists the urge to scratch the burnt flesh of the stump, though, because normally that'd hurt a lot. Instead, he makes tense conversation, "You know've a scientist name've Zimmerman?"

Adam considers the name, "Ah, Lewis." he says, "Always such an eccentric gentleman." his head tilts again, "Why do you bring him up?"

"That's the guy that developed the Formula, from what my people tell me," Cardinal replies, flickering a glance up to Adam, a brow lifting, "He working with Arthur, or's he gone and buried by now? He's proven a little difficult to find."

Adam shakes his head, "I don't know." he says in reply. "I haven't seen him at any of the meetings. But, he could be squirreled away in a lab somewhere for all I know." he purses his lips a bit, "But why do you want to find him?"

Cardinal shrugs slightly, "Wish I'd known when I was in Japan, but— seems like the Formula's the key to Arthur's future. Makes sense to try'n secure the guy who made it in the first place, is all." A slight spasm twitches against the stump of his arm, and he looks down at it with a tight purse of his lips.

Adam nods, "I imagine so." he says, "I don't know much about where Zimmerman has gone or what he's done over the years, to be honest." because, after all, Adam was in a cell. Still, "So I couldn't tell you."

Adam mms, "I don't suppose you know anything about the airstrike on Staten, would you?"

Cardinal mhms, "Yeah. What d'you want to know about—" A grunt as the skin of his wrist splits, twisting away from the sudden regrowth of bone and muscle. He stares at the hand that's reassembling itself as they watch. "Holy shit."

The goons jump back, even Michael. They may work for Adam, but they're not exactly…used to this. Adam continues to watch impassively as he awaits Cardinal's reforming. He speaks as if nothing at all is going on, "Who did it and why? A lot of innocent people died in that."

It takes Cardinal a few moments to respond, since he's still dealing with the shock of seeing— and feeling— his hand regrowing before his eyes, even as other minor bruising and injuries are washed away as afterthoughts by the flow of Adam's blood through his system. A hard swallow, "CIA ordered the strike. Softening the island up for FRONTLINE, I think."

Adam considers this for a few moments, "CIA, hm." he pauses, "Seem a bit too direct for the CIA.." he pauses, "Wait, you said ordered the strike….ordered who?"

"My old boss," Cardinal replies tightly, still watching as muscle twists around phalanges and skin washes over both, "Crow Combatives, Air Chicago, whatever the Chief's callin' it now. I think he's lost it."

Adam purses his lips, "The man Fedor you wanted me to meet." he gives a bit of a faint smirk, "You rather choose your alliances a bit hazardly." he watches Cardinal regrow his hand, "And people call me a villain." he shakes his head a bit as he jumps off the car, the blood having run it's course more or less, "Do you need a ride somewhere?" he questions, "I figure you like skulking in the shadows more, but I thought I'd offer."

"I've seen your file, Monroe," Cardinal replies with a rough snort of breath, "I wouldn't throw stones. He's just a pawn, it all leads back to fuckin' Arthur. All of it. Fortunately…" He pushes himself slowly up to his feet, his good hand pulling up against the wall, freshly-regrown fingers flexing slowly as if he wasn't sure they were really. "…everything's proceeding apace. Thanks. For the hand. And everything."

Adam nods as a couple cars start filling up, "Do call me when you get in contact with Helena Dean." he says in reply. With that, they entourage drives off.

"Will do." Cardinal stares at his newly-regrown hand for a few moments, and then he closes his fingers into a tight fist. He smiles a grimly satisfied smile as the men drive away, pushing himself off from the wall and starting to walk across the lot. Heroes. Villains. In the end, Adam, there's just the ones still standing. And I aim to be one of them.


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