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Scene Title | My Room Mate is a Hit Girl |
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Synopsis | Elle re-introduces herself to Lola, and the pair bond over their new status as room mates. |
Date | October 10, 2010 |
Lola's Apartment
Lola's been sitting at home, resting up. She's placed a few orders with Warren - getting ready for real survival, for a real career and for a vengance - but for now there are cartoons on the televisions. Her not unsubstantial collection of guns (and a knife or two now, she's evolving) are laid out on the coffee table. She's re-dyed her hair recently, so a wet towel hangs over her shoulders. She wears a blue t-shirt and some jeans. Her feet are bare, and there is a cigarette hanging out of her mouth.
She watches the cartoons, going down the line and checking each of her guns, cleaning them as she needs and so forth.
The first alert of a visitor is the jingle of keys rattling in the door. The lock smoothly slides open, and the door opens…to reveal someone who is not Elle Bishop. The little redhead is the same as Elle, in terms of stature, but that's where the similarities end. Bright red hair, and an almost angelic face, coupled with a different frame altogether. But she's wearing Elle's clothes.
Finally coming back to Red Hook after her recent experience with one Julius Reinholdt, Elle slips in and closes the door shut behind her quietly, perking up slightly at the sound of the television.
Oh, this is going to be interesting.
Not interesting, but perhaps predictable. When Elle looks up from closing the door, she'll find herself staring down the barrel of a pistol. Lola's pistol. She's shorn the towel away from her shoulders and is on her feet.
"Hands ta the hair, knees ta the floor, sugar. Hate ta mess up a purdy little face like that afore ya got all yer talkin' done bout what yer doin' in my house. Funny enough, it's legal ta hold a gun on a home invader. So Ah ain' even doin' nothin' wrong fer a change. Now do what Ah said. Actually," she glances at the carpet that Elle has just stepped on. "Step back inta the foyer. Easier ta clean up blood off linolium than carpet."
Elle blinks a few times at the pistol staring her in the face, her brows raising up. Yeah…that was predictability at it's finest. Likely why she doesn't seem quite surprised that Lola is waving a weapon in her face. She could zap, but that's always unwise when they have a gun pointed at you. Muscle contractions must be accounted for.
So, Elle instead raises her hands up into the air, taking a few steps back into the Foyer, a small smile on her face. "I know this looks weird, Lola, but I'm Elle. Cardinal sent me to live here when I went on the run from the Institute." She raises her brows, her hands still held up in the air. Nonthreatening.
"Ah know that, dumb bitch. Now get on yer knees afore Ah put you on them. Ah know what Elle looks like, sugar, an you ain' it. So get down or Ah put ya down like a bitch, bitch." She chuckles. Haha. "Bitch bitch." Bootstrap's bootstraps.
She takes another step forward, watching this 'Elle' impersonater. "Ya'd have ta make sure Elle weren' around afore ya tried this shit. So lets start with that. Where's mah roomate? Ah have this problem, ya know. Ah'm a hoarder. Ah get attached. Ah don' want any room-mate, Ah want my room-mate. So cough 'er up."
With a slight sigh, Elle lowers herself down to her knees, peering up at Lola. "I know it looks bad. So listen." She pushes the purse, Elle's purse, toward Lola, her arms still up. "I'm really Elle Bishop. I was recently on the run from the Institute, but Richard Cardinal took me in." She frowns. "He gave me the keys to your place. I was going to get breakfast one morning, and some guy jumped me, chloroformed me. Changed my body into this."
A soft sigh escapes her throat, as she frowns up at Lola. "This probably just sounds like some stupid story. Okay, look. Call Cardinal. Ask him to confirm that Elle Bishop is now a redhead with dark green eyes."
Lola picks up her phone wiht one hand from the counter, dialing in a number and putting it to hear ear. A throwaway, but she's used to those. She just watches this 'Elle' woman. And talks. "The shit does Bishop look like?" She asks, sounding displeased. "Cause Amma bout ta shoot a bitch." She blinks as she listens, her mouth forming a deep frown. "What the hell are you talkin' about? This ain' no teen makeover."
Elle's brows remain raised as Lola calls Cardinal, her arms still raised up in the air. She doesn't offer any words, simply watching Lola in silence.
Lola sets her gun-hand on her hip, no longer concerned about Elle - or noticing her. She's speaking loudly and angrily into the phone. "And how was this possible? An how come Ah ain' got one with all the fucks tryin' ta kill me?" She pauses, listening, then shakes her head. "Cause Ah'm on the phone with you an pigeons don' shit without ya watching. HYer like that hollow man. 'Cept without the rape, cause, ya know. Well yer an attractive Hollow Man."
With her attention off Elle, the woman's hands slowly lower down to her own hips, peering up expectantly at Lola with raised eyebrows. Well, then. That's…interesting. She grins quietly to herself.
It seems Lola has almost entirely forgotten abotu Elle at this mount. She's facing away from the woman, gun waving in her hand as she talks animatedly on the phone, and none too pleased. "Well how do Ah get kidnapped by this artist?" She demands of the mobile. Her arms cross and she nods a little, tapping her foot. "Yeah an yeah, she's still on the floor. What? No, she's just alyin' there. Ah told her to -on the linolium, a course. Ah ain' dumb enough ta be killin' folk on the carpet. Take //forever to get that out." She pauses, setting the gun down and picking up a cigarette to light it, taking a puff and exhaling before pulling the stick from her mouth to keep talking. "Ah dunno their names. Or numbesr. All Ah knows' they creepy. Anyway, watcha want with 'em? Uh-huh. Well say boxed then if it's boxed, so there ain' no misunderstandings. Ya said they're killin, yeah?"
"I can get you kidnapped by an artist in exchange for favors I'm sure you can help with, Lola." This is murmured in a soft tone, the little redhead slowly raising to her feet and leaning against the wall, her arms crossed.
Lola reaches behind her, holding up a single finger to tell Elle to hush. "There'd feckin' better be. Ya done promised me one four times. But Ah got another cost, sugar. Ah wanna be in. Ah wanna know what's goin' on. Ah'm sicka shit happenin' around me Ah don' get. No, sugar, if Ah go 'round boxin' all these folks Ah don' wanna be all in the dark no more. Ah wanna get rid of a certain' fellah so Ah ain' gotta be scared no ore an Ah kin take up some jobs 'round again. Ya understand, sugar? Ah'm sick an tired a gettin' my ass beat."
The woman thoughtfully listens, her brows raised. Then, she slips into the kitchen, reaching into the fridge and pulling out a single serving bottle of grape juice. Then, she's back out in the living room, watching Lola thoughtfully.
"An then what? Ah get ta life mah head? Ah get ta work again, roudn yer new fellah?" Lola turns away from Elle, her voice lowering. Whatever she says, it's queit. And then she's finally hanging up the phone, setting it aside. The gun is tucked into the back of her pants, and she turns to walk after Elle. "So Ah got a job, sugar," No discussion about what happened just a few moments ago. "Now what's this bout yer freidn makin' new faces?"
Elle arches a brow. "Well, he has an ability that enables him to do this." She gestures to herself. "New face, new prints, new everything. I can introduce you to him…but you have to help me, Lola." She grins. "Do you have any means to obtain a social security number? That's all I really need, and then I can make a perfect fake identity." She tilts her head to one side.
Lola shrugs a little. "Ah kin do some diggin, sugar. Ah used ta know some folks. Don' know if they're still alive or whatnot. Worst comes ta worst, Ah got a couple of IDs a mah own ya kin use. Shit, Ah got one says Ah'm an FBI agent." She grins a little. "But this is a little weird, sugar. Quid pro quo. An here Ah thought we was all friends sugar." She goes back to her guns and starts checking on her rifle. She's going to need it. It might be a little un-nerving to Elle, but she needs it. What a reality show that would be - Help! My Room-Mate is a Hitgirl.
It would be unnerving, if Elle wasn't already rather used to it from growing up with the Company. Plus, Elle is a walking weapon herself. "It's really nothing against you, Lola. The Institute— they kind of wiped my brains out of the last few months. Anything involving the Institute is gone. I—" She pauses, tilting her head to the side. "I know that you and I are friends and that we have something in common, but…I can't remember much of anything about how we met, or why we have something in common.
Lola huhs softly, checking the gun and locking the trigger in place for safety. "Well, let's see. Oh, we met cause ya were fuckin' Mortimer Jack an he used ta think he was fuckin' me - but he wasn' - an then ya realized we wasn' an then Ah got electrocuted - not by you - an then Ah was in the hospital an we started hangin' out an now ya live here. So, that's mostly the gist of it. Ah'm one a Cardinal's girls. Cardinal's Angels or whatcha call it. 'Cept Ah ain' exactly the angelic sort….Ah sorta do the opposite. Ya relatively caught up now?"
Elle wrinkles her nose a bit at the mention of fucking Mortimer. She's met the man since then…but she still has trouble wrapping her mind around even the thought of sleeping with him. "That's pretty good for a catchup session." She tilts her head toward Lola. "So, are you feeling any better? I know that I picked you up from the hospital, too…" She seats herself on the couch, sipping at her juice.
Lola shrugs a little, setting the gun aside. "Feelin' alright Ah guess. Good 'nuff ta get back to work. Speakin' a which, ya gonna be workin' with me or ya just crashin'?" She asks, continunig to smoke her cigarette. She watches Elle curiously.
"I don't know what Cardinal plans to do with me." Elle shrugs quietly, sipping at the juice as she peers over the collection of weapons ponderously. "I hope he'll make use of me soon, though. I get restless easily." She wrinkles her nose at the cigarette. "Those things are gross."
"Oh, so ya ain' part a mah shootin' party? Shame, that woulda been a good way ta room-mate bond. Ah guess we gotta just have a drunk an dancin' party." Lola shrugs, and continues to smoke. She shrugs and the cigarette. "Get used ta it, sugar. Ah mean, sorry an all, but Ah do it an Ah like it keeps me calm so….but yer more'n welcome to the booze in the kitchen. Also a hobby a mine."
Elle sips at her juice. "I drink occasionally, but not often, and not too much. When I drink too much, I get a little…zappy." She seems to be happy with her juie, right now. "I'll talk to my cosmetic surgeon about changing your face, too. He charges, though, unless you let him pick what you look like." She tilts her head toward the woman, sipping her grape juice again.
"Hands, sugar. Ah want mah hands ta change. Or maybe mah face too. Ah…Ah dunno. Ah like mah face. But talk to him anyway. Truth be told Ah'm lookin' fer some new IDs mahself, so Ah kin look for ya in the meantime. Anwyay, ya should at elast come have a shot or two. Ya know. Fer roomates an all. Oh, an the big bedroom is mine." Lola smiles taht toothy grin, lifting a gun and sliding the magazine in place. It locks with a slide and a crack of metal on metal. Yep.
"It's either he charges some crazy money, or he chooses what you look like, I think." She tilts her head to one side. "But he changes everything. Even fingerprints." She raises her hand. "Nobody would be able to tell who I was if I didn't tell them who I am." She smiles faintly. "Just like you wouldn't have known."
"That woulda been your loss then, sugar. One other thign you may have forgotten about me - Ah'm a killer, fer lack of a better way a puttin' it. An Ah'm damn good, specially with the shootin' so…ya know. Woulda been yer pretty face on the pavement, not mine." She snuffs the cigarette out in an ash tray. "Alright then. Bathroom's mine fer now, gotta wash this shit from mah hair."
Elle offers a small wave, leaning back on the couch. "I wouldn't have come here if I wasn't willing to tell you who I am." She smiles faintly to Lola. "By the way…while I'm like this? I'm 'Madison Cole'." She smiles faintly, putting her feet up on the couch. "I'll consider setting something up for you to meet my cosmetic surgeon."