Participants:
| Scene Title | Shadows and Songs |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Cardinal finds Angelina hiding and making music. They talk about her place in Endgame, morals, and Cardinal's current state. |
| Date | March 4, 2010 |
Mid-afternoon finds Angelina off by herself…again. In one of the rooms that she seems to have claimed for her own use. Which means it's as far from where she finds others as possible, so she doesn't disturb them. She's brought in a chair, which she's sitting in, a little black kitten curled up on one of her feet, purring away. The woman is playing her old, slightly banged up guitar, and singing. It's another slow, soft, but pretty song, one that suits her voice perfectly.
"You really should listen to Elisabeth, you know…" You know… The whispering echo comes from all around her, the tattered darkness of a man trapped between life and death having crept about her shoulders in silence. Tendrils of Cardinal's ephemeral flesh caressing down her arm to drape over where her fingers dance across the strings, "…you are good at this. She does have a friend who owns a club…" Club…
The sudden appearance of unnatural shadows and a voice has Angelina's fingers curling, making a horrible twanging noise come from the guitar. She lays her hand over the strings to silence them, and peers at the shadows on her flesh. "I'm really not. I'm good at picking pockets, staying alive, and blowing things up. This is just…" She shrugs slightly, just the smallest movement, as if she might dislodge Cardinal. "It's something to keep me sane."
"So? I'm good at robbery… but look at me now…" Don't look at me… A twist of bitterness to the echo of words meant to be encouraging, "…we all have talents we never took seriously, Angel. And uses for them that you've never thought about. Why are you so resistant to working with us? This isn't charity, you know." You know…
One hand leaves the guitar when he mentions looking at him, and fingers hesitantly brush over the shadows on her arm. It could be she's trying to touch him, or perhaps offer some comfort to combat the bitterness. "I don't know," Angelina admits after a moment. "Part of it could be because I've been on my own…alone…for so long. It's hard to be around people so often. You're okay, but I know you. I've worked with you, and I trust you as much as I trust anyone. But I'm not sure if working with your people will make me one of them. I feel like I shouldn't be here. Like I'm on the outside looking in." Though oddly, she seems a bit more relaxed than during their last conversation.
The torn shadows roil about her fingers, Cardinal's hollow and whispering voice exhaling a slow sigh, "Only because you won't let yourself be, Angelina. This is about more than survival, here, about more than just… the next job. What we're doing here is very, very important, and we need all the help we can get…" All the help we can get…
"I didn't say I wasn't going to help, Card. I'm no hero, but I'll help," Angelina says with a faint smile that's far from reaching her eyes. "As much as I'm sometimes scared of what I can do, and sometimes hate it, it feels good to use it. And if for no other reason, working with you will let me use it." There's a long pause, a clear hesitation. "And maybe Elisabeth was right on at least a few things. But if you need my help, want my help, you have it. I just don't know how well I'll fit in. The others…they're…they seem like decent people, and I'm anything but."
An amused little chuckle stirs hollow from Cardinal at those words. "It depends on what you define decent as, Angel… Claire's an ex-terrorist… Elisabeth's killed more men than you can count… don't mistake the fact that they'll die for each other for them being saints…" Saints…
"We aren't good people, Angelina. We're just necessary ones."
Angelina frowns a little at that laugh. "I don't mean that they're not practical, Card. But they could go out, deal with people, and be accepted. Most of the time people see me and cross to the other side of the street. My fault though. I know it's my fault. And I don't mind or anything, but why do you always call me Angel?"
"It's your name." A simple answer to a simple question, Cardinal's tattered substance stretching itself across the guitar like a pattern of lace, "They'd welcome you, too, if you weren't so defensive… all you have to do is open up a little." Open up a little…
Angelina's fingers move, soft and slow, over the surface of the guitar, over the shadows covering it. "Most people shorten my name to Ang or Angie, or even Lina," she murmurs. "But I'll try. Haven't met Claire yet, and Elisabeth only the once, but I guess Bones seems nice. And Peyton," she allows.
"You're even hiding way out here on the other side of the building," Richard observes, the shadows rippling slowly, torn bits constantly pulling away before they're drawn back in, "Go seek them out… learn about them… ask what they're doing… ask how you can help…" Help…
"I didn't want to bother anyone with the music," Angelina explains, but even to her ears it sounds like an excuse rather than a legitimate reason. "More worried about you though. How exactly did you get like this? Maybe…maybe I can help by finding a way to get you back to normal."
"I doubt it, Angel. I doubt it…" Doubt anyone… The darkness is silent for long moments, Cardinal's tatters coiling in upon themselves, "…I absorbed a one hundred megaton nuclear bomb as it went off." Munin…
Angelina winces sympathetically. "There's gotta be some way to fix this though. Even if I'm not sure how you ended up like this instead of dying. I cause explosions and I would've died," she says, hand lifting to absently trace a finger over one of the scars on her face.
Cardinal's darkness spreads lazily over the surface of the guitar and its strings, like some cancer of blackness. "You all would have died. I saw what would have happened, in that timeline… the sea level would have risen hundreds of feet. New York would've been underwater. Billions of deaths…" Of deaths…
"But a man told me something, once. I couldn't die, knowing it." Knowing it…
"What did he tell you?" Angelina asks softly, looking at the shadows as she would look at anyone's face while talking to them.
"We can rest when we're done." We can rest when we're done…
The broken darkness that is Richard Cardinal spills away from her guitar, rippling to the ground, "You're more than you know, Angel. I hope you'll learn that soon."
Angelina leans forward as he moves to the ground, and she frowns a little. "That's true," she whispers, face, tone thoughtful. But it doesn't sound as though she's agreeing that she's more than she realizes.
Cardinal's soon indistinguishable from the surrounding shadows, though his whispering voice drifts back, "Just give them a chance." A chance… And then he's gone.