Racist Terrorist


cardinal_icon.gif keira_icon.gif

Scene Title Racist Terrorist
Synopsis Cardinal sneaks into Keira's room, and the former lovers have a long talk.
Date December 10, 2010

Speakeasy Hotel and Casino — Keira's Room

Keira's been laying in bed, for the most part, since last Sunday night. She came back from demolishing Miss Aphrodesia's, looking rather beat up. She was fortunate it wasn't worse, really, the woman only needing stitches and a bit of bed rest after having pieces of a building fall on her. A few cracked ribs, but nothing worse.

She also kicked Amadeus out, after a dream. Strange to do that, but she knew that he was dreaming about Delia. And that— that just pissed her off. She hasn't spoken to him in a few days. Currently, she's curled up in bed, looking like she had a fight about a week or so ago. Next to her in the bed is the massive black Great Dane, Odin, curled a her side.

The toilet flushes, a gurgling rush from the bathroom. That wouldn't be considered odd except for the fact that there isn't supposed to be anyone else there.

The source of the sound becomes obvious a moment or two later as Richard Cardinal wanders out of the lavatory with a folded newspaper in hand, as if he'd just been reading and sitting on the pot. His belt's still fastened. It's probably all just for show. "Hey, Keira," he greets in overly casual tones, slapping a hand against the newspaper, "You read the paper lately? Funny story… some building got blown up the other night."

As the toilet flushes, the enormous black shadow dog lets out a low, dangerous growl, suddenly leaping off the bed and standing between the bathroom and his mistress. Floppy lips peel back to reveal large teeth, and it's quite obvious that Keira has trained the dog to protect her. "Hold." Keira sits up with a wince, holding her side as a gun is leveled at the bathroom door.

Even as Cardinal walks out, she doesn't lower the gun. She looks tired, and sore. "Motherfuck, Richard, y'need to not sneak up on me right now." She holds the gun at him for a moment, before slowly lowering it back down to the ground. "Yeah, I heard about that."

Richard arches a brow over the edge of his shades, looking over the paper to the tattooed woman on the bed. "Put that away," he dismisses with a roll of his eyes, crouching down then slightly and offering a hand out - palm up - to the Great Dane, patiently giving the dog a chance to acknowledge him.

"Mm. I'm sure you did. Any idea why some fucking little vintage shop might just spontaneously combust by any chance?"

The gun is left on the little rack by her bed. As Cardinal moves closer to the dog, it lets out another growl, very well trained. Not even a wag. "I wouldn't try to fuck with Odin right now, you surprised him. He doesn't like surprises." She glances down to the dog, watching the large beast growl at Cardinal. Then, she rolls her eyes. "Odin, relax." It's immediate. The dog offers a wag of his tail, and steps forward, licking Richard's hand.

"Hmm, I might have a very good idea why the little vintage shop got blown up. That little vintage shop was a front for a gun runnin' business." She leans back against her pillow, peering at Richard. "You know how my biz is, Tricky Dick."

Once the dog 'relaxes' and steps forward to lick his hand, Cardinal scratches under the canine's muzzle affectionately, a smile tugging up at one corner of his lips. "A bit public for your biz," he observes quietly, his other hand lifting to ruffle Odin's ears, "Especially with martial law in place, an' all. Bit big for your britches. So who're you working for?"

The petite woman smirks, piling a few pillows under her back to make herself more comfortable. Stupid broken ribs. At least she's not crippled. "Shit, you ain't seen some of the shootouts we had in fuckin' Buffalo." She smirks. "My boss wanted a…public message of sorts to be put up. That's all I can tell you, baby." Odin lets out an affectionate rumble, leaning into the scratching, and subsequently drooling all over Cardinal's hand and wrist.

Keira grins to Cardinal, gesturing him closer. "I hope you understand, baby, my boss ain't the kinda guy I wanna fuck with. He's a good guy…kinda like a dad t'me, really, but I ain't about to sell him short. He tends to deal with people who fuck up by putting rubber bullets in their head, and I don't think I'm exempt from that just because I've impressed him so far."

"So it's a public message, only you can't tell anyone who it's from? C'mon, babe, what do I look like, the fuckin' police?" Cardinal pushes himself back up to his feet with a smirk, gesturing with the dog-licked palm in a general gesture to one side, "If nobody knows who's behind the message, then who do we know not to fuck with?"

He steps over to the bed's edge, dropping himself down to sit on it and smirking over, "Not like I'm asking where he's based out of, or all've his secrets. Just asking who the new big dog in the world've guns is. Never know when I might need some myself."

Keira promptly props her sock-covered feet up on Cardinal's lap, smirking up at him. "He goes by the name of The Irishman. That's as far as I'm willin' to go." She wiggles her feet, and reaches out to grab Cardinal's hand. "If y'want somethin', I can assure you we can get it. Ask me any time, baby, and I'll be certain that Daddy Irishman gets the order."

She blows him a kiss with her other hand. "We've got some pretty big things comin' up." She smirks. "Now, mind tellin' me how you knew I would know anything about that pretty fireworks show?

"The Irishman, eh? Interesting crowd for you to get caught up with…" Cardinal allows her to take hold of his gloved hand, a brow raised slightly and a smirk just-twitching to his lips. "You can ask. You can't afford the answer. Information's expensive these days, babe."

He tips his chin in a slight nod, "Just out've curiosity, one've those big things happen to involve a Mister Gideon d'Sarthe?"

Keira tilts her head to one side, grinning. "Well, then, if you're going to play it that way, then you can't afford my answer." She chuckles faintly, idly tugging at the glove, so she can idly play with his fingers while they talk. "I'll just leave you wondering what's going on with The Irishman, completely in the dark about what's going to happen next." A smirk.

"You see, the difference there, darlin'…" As she tugs at his glove, Cardinal pulls his hand back with a shake of his head—his other hand coming up, arm moving a bit more carefully as if some injury were bothering him, he tugs the glove back into place. A smile faint on his lips as he looks back down to her. "…you're just curious where I'm getting my information."

"Your answer just might save your pretty li'l neck."

Keira arches her brows. Well, while she'll probably tell him anyway, with those charming eyes of his, she'll at least draw it out a little bit. She idly points to his arm, a frown on her face. "What happened to your arm?" Then, she's grabbing his belt and giving it a tug. "Come closer, no need t'sit so far away." She crosses her arms.

Then, she rolls her eyes. "I got a deal for you. Amadeus has been pissin' me off. Dreamin' about my fuckin' family instead of me. I'm honestly about to break things off with th'little shit, if this shit keeps up. He took me to a fuckin' shrink for 'couples counseling'." She leans back in bed, smirking at Cardinal. "So here's the deal. You take me on a nice date every once that doesn't involve you starin' at other woman, and maybe lemme give you your tattoo back, and I will tell you anything you want to know, just so long as it ain't gonna come back on me."

Cardinal's already shaking his head at the gun runner, hand lifting palm up. "M'here on business, not pleasure, babe," he says simply, and as she leans back, he pushes himself to his feet, "I'm not in any mood lately to be playing games with dates and tattoos, either. Sorry." A tight smile, "I'll just have to find out the answers my own way. For your sake, though, I hope it's not you'n the Irishman planning the hit on d'Sarthe's."

He turns around, "Buried enough friends this year already."

Keira frowns as she's shut down, pulling her feet away from him as he stands. A small scowl. "I didn't say right th'fuck now, good lord. I'll tell you what you want to know about Daddy Irishman. You protect me, and take me to dinner sometime when you're feelin' up to gettin' that stick outta your ass." She frowns…then, a gentler expression appears on her face. "What's wrong, baby? You're worrying me."

Despite that confrontational demeanor, Keira is raising to her feet, wincing. God damn broken ribs. Gently, she reaches a hand out, attempting to grab the hand opposite the arm that he seems to have injured. "Look, I miss ya, baby. That's all, I wasn't playin' any games. I wanna see you more often."

Once closer to him, she frowns. "Yeah, he was talkin' about hittin' d'Sarthe. We're makin' a move while the going's good. Get rid of th'competition, become the new big cats in town."

As she reaches out to take hold of his hand, Cardinal stops his withdrawal… looking back to her with a serious expression on his face. "That's what I was afraid of," he admits, closing his eyes and shaking his head slowly, "See, I had two bits of information that drifted up on my desk recently. One was that you and some other people were planning to blow some joint. The other? That someone's planning to blow d'Sarthe's on Christmas Eve. So I thought that I'd come by and see if one and one made two."

He lifts a brow, then, over the edge of his ever-present shades. "Only problem about that second piece? I was told that Humanis First were behind the bombing. Not some two-bit Irish gun runner. Congratulations, Keira, babe. You're a racist terrorist now."

Keira's brows raise for a moment. Well, then, that's…shocking news. Not as shocking as Cardinal might think, as she already had her suspicions from when Walsh asked her opinion of Evolved, then said something to the effect of 'glad we are on the same page' when she answered truthfully that she didn't quite like Evos. Not that Cardinal needs to know that.

It's her turn to pull away from Cardinal, a frown on her face. "No…The Irishman runs a gun running business. We're goin' after d'Sarthe because we're about to become the biggest fuckin' gun dealers in New York. We're just gettin' rid of the competition is all!" She scowls at Richard, as if he's implied something horrible by telling her the truth. The dog seems to feed off of her mood, and lets out a low growl. "I ain't a fuckin' racist, unless it's against those god damn chink-eyed gangsters who shot me in th'fuckin' thigh on the eighth."

"No argument there, given that someone put out a hit on me with the Ghost Shadows…" Cardinal brings his hand up to scratch against the side of his neck, regarding her steadily through his shades, "…well, then, guess there's two completely different groups who've decided to blow up d'Sarthe's on Christmas. You know, totally by coincidence."

He smirks just a bit, "Since that's the case, guess you won't mind doing me a favor?"

Keira snorts. "Irishman ain't said nothin' about bein' Humanis First. If it's somethin' more than that, it ain't like I know anythin'. I'm just doin' my fuckin' job, gettin' my savings account built up so one of these days, I can fuckin' retire and go into one of those communities in Florida with a fuckin' golf course. Go out and hit some golf balls every day and shit, and fuck with the up tight motherfuckers like I always have."

His question prompts a raising of eyebrows, Keira suddenly leaning up against Cardinal and wrapping her arms around his chest, should he allow her to. She's pretty gentle about it, what with those cracked ribs. "What'd that favor be, baby?"

Cardinal's chin dips down to his chest as he looks down to her, the hint of a smile twitching before it fades away. "You hear anything about Humanis First planning a hit on Christmas, you let me know, mm? Especially if this one asshole's involved. Bald guy. Mass murderer. Goes by the name've Emile Danko. I'm not a big fan of his."

Keira leans against him, albeit gently, thanks to the cracked ribs. Breathing is still uncomfortable. "I ain't met a baldie named Emile Danko. If I do, though, I'll definitely let you know." She smiles faintly up to Cardinal, nuzzling her face against his chest.

"Wasn't joking about a date. You look like you need t'take a load off." She raises blue eyes to his face once more, a touch of warmth on her features— the warmth she's always reserved just for Cardinal. "So here's the deal. I won't hold you here, if you promise me that when you aren't goin' around bein' your bad ass, sexy self, you'll come flush the toilet again and we can go have a drink or somethin'. No obligations, just some re-lax time for my sexy shadow man." One hand reaches up, gently pinching Richard's chin.

"No promises," Cardinal replies with a faint smirk down to her as she pinches his chin, "I've got shit to do. No time to sit around having a drink. Maybe sometime, but… no promises." That said, he moves to extricate himself from her arms, taking a step back.

Before he can remove himself, Keira leans up and plants a quick kiss on Cardinal's chin. "If you don't have the time for alcohol, I'm sure you have time for a nice blast from the past, so to say. Remember when we used to roll around in bed all day, then just snuggle and watch TV? Somethin' like that. Doesn't even have to be an all day thing." She smirks up to him, winking.

"My sexy shadow man is stressed out…I hate seein' that not even trying to smile smile on your face. Breaks my little heart." She grins. Then, she lets him go, moving back to the bed to flop back down on it. "Keep that in mind, baby." Another wink.

"That was a lifetime ago, Keira," Cardinal says, almost wistfully, shaking his head to her words, "Life's not all fun'n games anymore. Sooner or later, we've all got to grow up and make a stand somewhere." As she flops back down on her bed, he turns to head for the door this time, shaking his head slowly.

"Hope for your sake that it isn't next to Humanis."

"Doesn't mean it can't happen again. Sometimes, y'just need to kick back an' relax. Otherwise, you're just gonna drive yourself insane. Maybe you should just take some real you time, one day. Do somethin' you enjoy doin', whether it's fuckin' or playin' a video game or havin' a drink." Keira shrugs. "I ain't takin' no sides but my homes. My family, th'ones who took me in when nobody else wanted me. I still count you as one of those, y'know." Even if you broke her heart.

She hits her chest, over her heart, like she always does when talking about her 'homes'. She immediately regrets it, letting out a little squeak as she hits one of those ribs she cracked in the explosion. "Motherfuck!"

A wince, as she thumps her broken ribs. "You be careful too," Cardinal drawls out, glancing back over his shoulder, "See you around, Keira." The door's unlocked, pulled open, and out he goes.

Keira watches as Cardinal goes, settling back into her bed. "Later, Richard." Well, then, that's something she'll have to talk to Daddy Walsh about…apparently, her ex lover who she still loves is after him. It's not difficult, for her at least, to decide which side to choose. Mostly, the one that hasn't broken her heart once before.

Sorry, Richard Cardinal, but you lost your chances for loyalty back when you abandoned Keira when she was much younger, much more naive, and totally in love with you. You lost your chances when you broke her heart.

Perhaps you should have thought about how your own actions might have effected future interactions.

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