None Are Broken


cat_icon.gif kinson_icon.gif

Scene Title None Are Broken
Synopsis The state of Cat's ribs after being shot in the chest. Body armor, ftw!
Date March 11, 2009

Cat's Penthouse in the Village Renaissance Building

Arriving by any of four elevators, visitors will find they open into three foot corridors facing wide double doors made from sturdy southern pine which swing outward and have the strongest locks available. The stairs lead to single doors, also outward opening, at the end of three foot corridors. Entry requires both a key and a keycard; other security measures are a video camera and voice communication terminal at all doors. The 4th Street side has floor to ceiling windows interrupted only by the access points. Cream colored curtains are normally kept closed.

This level has enough space for sixteen apartments. There is an office space with reception area, conference room, and executive office; a room for archery practice and other forms of physical exercise; a very well appointed kitchen and dining area; a music zone with an array of instruments, electronics, and amplifiers; an entertainment area with an HD set covering an entire stretch of wall from floor to ceiling; a locked room where security footage for the building is recorded and can be monitored; a laundry room; a staircase for roof access; central air and heating; the main bedroom and a few smaller guest rooms; plush deep wine carpet everywhere except the kitchen, laundry room and bathrooms; and track lighting everywhere overhead. The light levels can be lowered or raised in the entire place, or selectively by segments. The overall decor suggests the occupant is a woman.

She had gone out earlier, perhaps nine p. m., dressed in jeans and a plain sweatshirt. A guitar case was taken out prior to her departure; used to hold her M16 rifle, extra ammo, two .40 caliber pistols with a decent supply of bullets, all black clothing she uses for operations, body armor, and comm gear. She doesn't enter or leave the building dressed in any of that ensemble, not wishing to have people living here get any clue of the things she's involved in. Caution is the watchword. Tonight's operation was the liberation of Flint Deckard.

Some hours pass before she returns, well past midnight. Making her way into the penthouse, after stashing Deckard and some others in units on the fourth floor, Cat is once again clad in the sweatshirt and jeans, carrying that loaded guitar case. She seems worn and tired.

Her first stop is the bathroom closest to the entry doors, where she sets down her gear and slowly, carefully, pulls the sweatshirt off overhead and drops it. Standing there in her basic black sports bra, she examines herself in the mirror and winces.

Cat has a large bruise on her left torso which probably extends to areas covered by that garment.

The door opens, and then closes. The sounds of the locks being engaged can be heard, and the clumping of Kinson's Doc Martens can be heard as he makes his way to the bathroom and see Cat there. He's all at once concerned, cause of the bruise, but interested because she standing there nearly topless. He pauses and observes for a momemnt before offering quietly, "That looks pretty bad. Want me to put some tiger balm on it?"

She examines the mark in the mirror quietly, and winces again. "Damn," Cat remarks. "Getting this hurt." Kinson's offer is considered for a moment, and accepted with a slow nod. "Yes. Gently though. I'm sore." She pulls the garment over her head slowly and carefully, just like she had the sweatshirt, and sees the bruise covers a portion of the skin now exposed.

"I told the man to lie down, put his hands over his head, but he chose to be stupid." A slow breath is drawn in, and released. "The good news is my body armor works."

Kinson smiles and walks in. A few months ago? This would've freaked him out. But he learns and grows quickly and now while he's thankful it's just a bruise, he can deal with that. He goes into the medicine cabinet and grabs the Tiger Balm and opens it. "Well, it's good that it works. In other news, not enough chlorine has been added to Mr. Darwin's gene pool." he muses, waiting to apply the salve and in the meantime, steals a kiss from her shoulder. "Sorry." he smirks, "Couldn't resist."

She closes her eyes and lifts arms overhead so they're out of the way as he applies the balm, wincing from time to time with the soreness she feels. The bruise, notably, is on the left side of Cat's chest. "The other side of body armor working is it still hurts. Like getting slugged with a sledghammer. And tomorrow we have that thing out on Staten Island, setting free people held for a fight club against their will. Abby the healer and Sergei, the negator from our ranks."

Her features twist into a scowl, the eyes reopen to flash with a cold controlled rage. "Slavery. Using Evolved people like show animals for amusement."

She doesn't seem the least bit concerned about where the round which struck her would've gone had she not worn body armor.

Kinson shakes his head, "Maybe I'll think of some creative suggestions for the captors. I've always wondered what would happen if I told some poor bastard to stick his head up his own ass." he muses, slowly putting the balm on. He knows where the round would've ended up, but chooses not to think of it. He's become very attatched to her since their unlikely…whatever this is..has began. He wants to take things deeper, he dare not speak of it though. He's content to be happy with what he's got and let her dictate the pace.

She isn't committing, hasn't spoken of anything such, and who knows when if ever she might. It's entirely possible 2019 could arrive and still not have any definition or label attached to matters between them. She shares things with him, tells him of operations he wasn't involved in on her returns, and is in fact with him now naked to the waist as he tends to sore torso. Trust and respect definitely exists.

She chuckles at his comment lightly, replying "I don't think it's physically possible, but… the target would I think have to at least try, and keep trying."

"There are big things coming up. We're going to have to ramp things up a good deal to secure data about Moab before we move. But we will move."

Kinson nods, "If you need me, I'm ready to do whatever I can do. If it requires learning a few new tricks, so be it." he says, finishing the balms applications. "There, all done. I could wrap it for ya. You could've bruised some ribs there." he stands up and smiles, feeling the need to state the obvious. "I'm glad you made it home, Cat. I always worry a little when you have to take care of business like this."

"I could," she admits quietly on the issue of bruised ribs. "None are broken, though. Fortunately. I'm glad I made it home too." Cat's arms lower and she turns to rest her backside against the sink. "Wrapping up is a good idea. Thank you, Kinson." One hand runs through her hair slowly. "Your natural talent is invaluable. All it really needs is carefully ch…" Her voice trails off, with a thin smile forming. "You already know that, we've used it in the field that way with remarkable success."

Kinson smiles, "We have indeed." he grins and gets the ace bandage. He kisses gently his way up your back, before he starts to wrap. "I'm sure I'll get better with practice. That's something I've learned here. Practice does definitely make perfect."

Her arms go overhead again, held out of the way, and she winces occasionally as the bandage is applied. "How are the media projects coming along? The site, in particular. I've started thinking in bigger terms than just what the organization does here. So many individual groups, around the country. We know about and have links to each other, but that's the extent of it, usually."

Some beats of silence pass by.

"What major thing does the resistance lack, as a movement, Kinson?"

Kinson ponders on this as he wraps. "The same thing all good resistance movements lack, my dear. A figure. Someone to rally around. A sympathetic figure, hopefully attractive with a tragic past, which can be shed the best possible light one so that they're seen not as a criminal, but a downtrodden member of the general populace. Somoene unextraordinary who, placed in an extraordinary situation, not only succeeds but flourishes."

Words aren't spoken as Cat remains with arms held aloft and out of the way for the bandaging. He's spoken understanding of what she's thinking, and she doesn't feel the need to comment right now. A need for sleep is settling in.

"Sorry I'm not very likely to be affectionate tonight," she offers solemnly. "I think bed's in the cards soon."

Kinson nods, "That sounds just capital. I'm beat myself." he says, admiring his handiwork, then Cat's assets (or part thereof) Then Cat. He smiles. "Shall we to bed?"

It still happens from time to time, Cat choosing to sleep alone. Tonight is one of those nights. She takes the end of the bandage gently from him and secures it in place, giving him a gentle smile as she begins to move away.

"Good night, Kinson. Enjoy your sleep."

March 10th: The Tucker Family Reunion
March 11th: What Exactly Do You Hope To Accomplish Here?
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