Participants:
| Scene Title | There's An App For That |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | In which Ethan and Cardinal decide on a plan. (Brought to you by Apple and Slush-O) |
| Date | Oct 9, 2009 |
Roosevelt Island Carnival
"So little bird. Tell me everything."
It took him a while, not to find Cardinal but to admit that he might actually need help in ending this problem. He had been hunting tirelessly for Feng, but it seems like the bastard would only be found when he wanted to be found, which irked the Brit to no end. He was the superior, still is the superior, but somehow Feng is alluding him. And so Ethan has finally humbled himself a tad and contacted the man who knows more about his problem than he does.
"Raith knows more than me. Sylar knows more than me, fucking Eileen knows more 'n me. And so do you, y'fucker. So fill me in wit' everything you know. Y'ave a price, I'll match it. Just give me what I need."
A break is taken to chomp down on the caramel apple in Ethan's hand. In his other is a large slush-o, the lights twinkling and sparkling behind him. The pair of men, dip under the lights and through the crowd again. The two hardened criminals agreed to meet at the carnival that just opened up. And what better place to talk business?
The ferris wheel.
Their cart is waved through as they make their shaky ascent up, children with a single parent in the cart above them, a teen couple making out in the cart below. And there, two men dressed in dark colors forced to sit thigh to thigh due to the size of their little cart, right in the middle.
"So. Whot y'got?"
"I don't have time to tell you everything."
It's a simple truth, even if it's not exactly what the other man asked. There's a cherry Slush-O in Cardinal's hand as well, straw just leaving his lips as he speaks and eyes searching the crowds below through his shades as the rickety cart swings ever upwards in that unsteady arc of ascent.
"Feng, though… what do you know already? He works for General Autumn, he's part of an anti-Vanguard task force of some sort. Presumably he was sent to locate Munin, but it seems like he's taken this personal."
A glance back, and he adds, "And there's some kid he's after, too. Wu-Long's kid."
"General Autumn."
Ethan's teeth crunch through caramel and apple as he gives a speculative look to the other man. "I know 'e used to work for me. A whiny little brat 'o was too big for 'is briches. Thought 'e was a big fish in a small pond. 'E's a fuckin' rock in the ocean. Couldn't do 'is job as well as the others and blamed th' others for it. 'e was good 'nough, yeah, but good 'nough was never good enough." Ethan adjusts himself on the seat, his thigh pushing into Cardinal ever so slightly as he tries to make himself more comfortable.
"Whot d'you know bout General Autumn? If Feng really works for 'im, I might need to arrange a meetin' with 'im."
"You won't get within ten feet of Autumn."
Cardinal shifts a bit as he's pushed into, drawing his legs up more and straightening to decrease his profile and - more importantly - not be snuggled up with the psychotic killer that he willingly got into a Ferris Wheel cart with.
Some days he questions his continuing sanity more than others.
"I may," he notes, slanting a sidelong look over, "Be able to… make arrangements with his boss, however. I have a proposal that I could put on the table for them, if the Remnant is interested."
"Bet you five fuckin grand I could get nine feet of Autumn."
The half eaten caramel apple is considered before Ethan ultimately decides that his hunger is satiated and the apple on the stick is flung over the side. Carelessly falling into the throng of carnival goers. His slush-o switches hands and is sipped again. One hand comes down to pat against Cardinal's thigh before returning to his own lap. "Say whot y'need t'say, Richard. If y'got a job for us, my payment can be in th'form of an iPhone. Y'fuckin' seen those things? Makes life so much easier I 'ear. Say y'need to get teen feet from a general." A beat.
"There's an app for that."
"'Is boss, y'mean th'fuckin' president or some shit like that? 'ow is it, I can't get ten feet, but y'can waltz into the white 'ouse. I know y'can be a shadow and all that shit, but I can be a shadow the old fashioned way." He pauses. "Being good." He pauses, bringing one hand up to his chin. "Whot y'ave in mind?"
The slush-o in Cardinal's hand is tilted in the other man's direction, his lips twitching in a wry bit of a smile. "I'll take your word for it, about th'iPhone. I'm not exactly a high-tech kind've guy, I got people who handle that shit for me. I'd give my left fuckin' testicle for a technopath."
The shadowman's gaze drifts back over the carnival. "I wouldn't risk walking into the White House. They've probably got a telepath or three on th'Secret Service by now. No, I can get Petrelli to come to me…" A click of tongue to palate, and he looks back, "…if I'm right, they want Munin. Not— not Eileen, I mean the bomb. Volken's final contingency."
"Need a technopath?" Ethan asks, spreading his hands out.
"There's an app for that."
He glances over where Cardinal's gaze goes before the Wolf's mouth jerks open a soft 'ah' let out as he taps his fingers against his lips. "Inneresting." The man murmurs, leaning back in their little carriage. "Fine. Whot y'need me t'do, then?"
"I'll buy you a fuckin' iPhone for Christmas, all right? Jesus…"
Cardinal takes a long slurp off the slush-o in his hand, and then drops it down to rest on his thigh, fingers curled about it. He shifts a bit more to re-settle, chin dipping as he looks to Ethan over the edge of his shades. "So. I ask him to cut Feng loose, no more support, free for you t'hunt down and fuckin' kill. No more assassins sent after your asses. In return, you bunch've upstanding citizens agree to help hunt this bomb down before it kills the fuck out of everybody."
Ethan bobs his chin, looking contemplative for a moment. His slushee is raised up as he takes an obnoxiously long drag from it. So much so that the ugly slurrping noise is made when the slushee is empty at the bottom. Keeping that noise going for a good five seconds he finally pulls his lips from his straw. "Sounds like a plan little bird."
He offers his hand to the other man. "We put Feng on a plate. And we find a bomb. Sounds like a good plan t'me. I'll run it by th'others." He smiles lightly. "Shouldn't be a problem, though. I know exactly whot to do." He smiles broadly. "Need to find a bomb that is going to kill th'fuck out've people?"
"There's an app for that."