There's A Plan But You Won't Like It


cardinal3_icon.gif elisabeth2_icon.gif

Scene Title There's A Plan But You Won't Like It
Synopsis Cardinal gets warned that Kershner knows about him and informed of a plan.
Date Mar 30, 2010

Dorchester Towers: Elisabeth's Apartment

This is a pretty standard two-bedroom apartment, although the occupant has gone to some effort to make it her own. Although the carpet is the ubiquitous beige, the walls are painted a soft rose-gray mauve shade, giving the main living space warmth. A dark gray sectional sofa sits in the living room facing an entertainment center that contains a state-of-the-art stereo system and a less upscale television setup. A coffee table sits in the curve of the sectional, and floor lamps bracket the ends of the furniture. The dining area hosts a four-seater square oak table and chairs, with the table generally host to a slew of mail and papers. An oak sideboard against the wall has candles on either end of it and a glass bowl with a fake arrangement of flowers. A small wine rack sits next to the sideboard, home to no more than nine bottles. The kitchen is small, but functional, painted a soft yellow color with a transparent blue glass backsplash. Off the living room are two bedrooms, one of which has the door closed and the other appears to be a home office. Its walls are a soft shade of green, and it contains a desk with a high-end computer setup and a bookcase stocked with textbooks.

Her apartment is starting to take on the feel of abandonment. Elisabeth came by after her shift out in the snow, ostensibly to sort through her mail and what have you. But in reality, a text went to the Blackberry that stays near Cardinal asking him to come to her place. There is news out there and she's disliking it quite a lot. Better to not expose the library more than it has to be. Besides…. he doesn't have to deal with 6+ feet of snow and 10-foot drifts in his current form.

There's a light on in the living room and one in the hallway as well. It's not the music room/office that he finds her in, though the uncovered piano glimpsed through the door of that room indicates that she may have been playing earlier. Right now Elisabeth is lying on her bed wearing a pair of fleece sweatpants and sweatshirt and a pair of heavy socks. Her hair is just slightly damp, as though she didn't quite blow-dry it all the way. She's not quite sleeping in the darkened room, but her eyes are closed and she's dozing a little — she wasn't sure when he'd get the message.

Cardinal's been better able to communicate of late with the assistance of D.Crypt's voice command software, and his response is prompt once the Blackberry's ringtone echoed in the cold and lonely shadows of the library. 'OMW'.

Oh god, first smilies, now netcronyms. Who knows what Internet horrors he'll be learning next?

It's not long before the shadow slips beneath the door like a tattered sheet, slithering up into the bedroom and crawling up the bed — stretching out beside her like the shadow of a broken column lengthening with the sun's delve towards the horizon before whispering, "I'm here." I'm here…

The whisper rouses her enough for a gentle smile to curl her mouth, and Elisabeth draws in a deep breath and lazily reaches for him as she's done so many times. "Hey," she murmurs sleepily. In that moment between asleep and awake, the fact that he is incorporeal doesn't register. When she encounters simply the cool sheets on his side of the bed, her eyes pull themselves open and her expression shifts to sadness, rapidly hidden behind the quirk of a smile. "Glad you could make it, lover," she whispers. "You're turning into a regular texting god," she teases.

"Alia's set up things so I can… talk at them," Cardinal whispers, that darkness rippling over the sheets, shreds and broken fragments drifting lazily in the dim light, "I even found out where the Internet keeps its porn." Porn…

There's a snicker of laughter and amusement lightens her expression. "If you wanted to watch, all you had to do was mention it. My toy chest is well stocked," she teases mildly. "But if you went to find it for the comedy factor, I can't really help much." Lord knows, we can all use a good laugh.

"Never google 'Pterodactyl Porn', just trust me on that one." The shadow's clearly trying to keep matters light, at least for a few moments - there's enough darkness for both of them, after all. Tendrils of ephemeral black curl over her hand without any sensation, before Cardinal asks more quietly, "What did you need, lover?" Lover…

Elisabeth sighs softly, watching the intangible shadows stroke her skin without tactile sensation attached. "Bad news. Do I ever bring you anything but?" There's a hint of bitterness in her tone, as if the very fact of it is dragging her down a little. Or perhaps it's simply the drag of so many bad things in a year and no true downtime. "Kershner knows you're alive," she tells him softly. "Someone higher up the food chain informed her. She demanded to know why you weren't involved in the Eagle Electric run." Her blue eyes flit up to him. "I didn't inform her of the extent of your injuries. I'm not sure if anyone else did either."

"Petrelli…" Bastard… A whispered sigh stirs from Richard's scattered remnants, "…remind me never to trust anyone with that last name again, Liz. I'll deal with Kershner in good time…" He pauses for a moment, "…I need a favor." A favor…

There's nary a flicker of an eyelash as Liz replies softly, "Sure. What's up?"

"Angelina's dead," Cardinal says quietly, "I need Rebecca to find out how. Her brain was gone, Liz." Liz…

Elisabeth jerks upright on the bed and stares at him. "What?" she demands, alarmed. She rolls over to fumble for her phone on the nightstand. "Has someone actually ID'd her body? Where? And when? I'll meet Becca there tonight."

"She had a… warehouse, in Midtown," whispers Cardinal, "This was a… couple days? A week? It's hard for me to keep track of time anymore, Liz. I saw the smoke, someone torched it, but… the body…" Gone…

"Fuck," Elisabeth whispers as she texts Rebecca. She shoves herself off the bed, heading for the closet to dress to go back out in the snow. It doesn't matter that she spent all day out there — for him, she'll go back out now. She pauses at the edge of the bed and whispers softly, "I'm sorry, love." Angelina was his friend, and it kills her that she cannot even wrap her arms around him in comfort.

The shadowy fabric of Richard Cardinal slithers over in closer, nestling against her side with tattered scraps spilt across the bedding where he'd come from, even though he can't touch her. "I should have… tried harder to get her to stay in, to trust the others… given her more to do. She left, instead, went to that… frozen warehouse, and…" Died…

She reaches out to touch him, and the need to hold him, to offer comfort, is an ache in her chest that she can't get rid of. Elisabeth says softly, "You couldn't manufacture things for her to do, Richard. She was… determined not to be dependent on anyone. I'm so sorry. We'll find who did it." She forgets for a moment that tracking down that guy is not her job anymore. But you know what? It doesn't matter. Even if she has to turn it over to Homeland, some way there will be justice for the young woman.

"Yeah. I know." A quietly miserable whisper from the shadow, "Sometimes, though, vengeance doesn't taste very sweet. But if it's all you've got… I'll take it." I'll take it.

"Yeah," Elisabeth whispers. "I know." She pauses and says quietly, "Kershner has a plan to draw Dreyfus out. You're not going to like it." No one's going to like it. But Liz is going to do it.

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