Participants:
| Scene Title | Wooden Piece Of Wood |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | THE PIECE OF WOOD, IT IS WOODEN. Also Elle and Brian engage in an unproductive chat, unpremeditated touching (mostly from Elle), and bacon theft. |
| Date | August 15, 2009 |
Fort Hero - Holding Cell
One thing that Elle dearly misses about Primatech? The lack of cells. Permanent ones, anyway. There had been nothing like a trip down to the deep, depressing bowels of Level 5 to stoke her sense of gratification and/or leisurely catscratch away at some poor inmate's psyche, but here, there are only these dinky little holding rooms. Like this one. It's pretty small and claustrophobic and plain, as there is no reason for it to be anything fancier. It is meant to be temporary for its occupant, after all. Its walls are concrete, rather than dank, moist, and projecting pipelines like what surrounds it, but the same musty stink from the corridors permeates into here as well. Just a concrete island in the middle of the dark and dripping sea that is Fort Hero's first subterranean level. Even though it is tiny, at least it is dry and clean!
There is not enough square footage in the cell to merit having one wide, long rectangular window in the wall next to the door, as there had been in Level 5. There is, however, a narrow strip of glass in the door itself. If Brian is paying attention in there, whether he is sitting on the single rickety chair, occupying the wooden, pallet-covered length of wood attached to the wall that constitutes a bed, or just standing around on the cold, barren floor, he might see a pair of inquisitive blue eyes appear in that window. They gaze inwards for a while, as if trying to peeeeekaboo at what Winters is up to, and then they vanish.
Beep beep boop beep boop. Access code: PASS. The door to the cell swings inwards, and in comes none other Elle herself, dressed in black slacks and a low-cut blouse. There is a tray balanced on both her forearms, and she has to nudge the door closed again with a shoulder. It's decent fare, too. Freshly brewed coffee, bacon, scrambled eggs, what looks like a bagelwich. "Hope you're doing okay in here," she comments with a long glance at him. "Um. Where do you want this?"
His suit jacket is crumpled up on one end of the 'bed'. It combined with his white dress shirt were used as a makeshift pillow. Even though he spent some time in his life homeless, he's still very hard to accomodate comfort wise. Pillows are a must. Lots of pillows. The dirty looking blanket is kicked down to the end. Brian is curled up on the wooden piece of wood with his back to the door. Shirtless, the tribal looking large yin-yang tattooed on the back of his right shoulder is visible.
As the door swings open, Brian rolls over slowly almost begrudgingly. Once facing the door and seeing that his guest is female he goes to sit up. His shirt is grabbed quickly and slid onto his arms, though he does not yet button it up. Revealing also the necklace that hangs over his chest. Another yin-yang. This one jade and black. Rubbing one hand over his face to wipe away the sleepiness he groans softly, "Oh yeah. Welcome. Make yourself at home." He gestures to the chair. "Set it wherever you want." He taps the ' bed' next to him as if to indicate her to set it there, anyway.
"You're not supposed to be here for much longer," Elle tells Brian as she sets the loaded tray down at the foot of the bed. If it's meant to be apologetic, it's hard to tell; just a straight statement of fact, nothing more, nothing less. She doesn't hide the fact that she lets her gaze gradually slip down the length of the ex-agent's torso, lingering on the yin-yang patterns of both the necklace and tattoo.
When that's done, however, the electrokinetic shows no sign of getting herself ready to exit again. She just stays standing there, right past Brian's feet, one hand tracing a pattern on the wall with a forefinger. There is a considering blink or two with her mouth still closed, as if she is readying herself to muse something aloud, but prefers to muse on it first as she regards him. Studies him.
Brian examines the food. Coffee. Hate it. Eggs. Hate it. Bacon. Ehh. "I'm not much of a breakfast person." He notes, examining the food in front of him. Leaning in he peers at the bagelwich closely. What is that? Then straightening up, his eyes widen slightly as Elle is still standing there. Arching a brow his eyes go up to meet hers.
"Is there something I can do for you?" He gestures to the chair. "Take a seat. I would offer something more comofortable, maybe a TV to watch but we're doing some renovating right now. Not the most comfortable place as of late." Winters explains of his little room.
Well. If Brian doesn't want the meal, that's his loss; Elle ain't bringing him a replacement. "Right," she says with a slow blink, acting like she hadn't really heard his dry commentary about the luxuries of his cell. Down onto the floor the unwanted tray goes; she'll seat herself right at the foot of Brian's bed, instead, setting her back against the wall and bringing one knee up against her chest. Then she swivels her head sideways to look at him. If he has no objections, she'll reach down to play with the top of Brian's foot for a moent before withdrawing her hand.
"I wanna know something. Why'd you say that to me? You know. What you whispered the day that you were caught."
Watching the food go down to the ground, "You didn't make it did you?" He'll feel guilty if she did. Maybe eat the bagelwich. Or whatever that is. He arches a brow as she chooses to join him rather than sit in the perfectly good chair over there. He watches as she plays with his foot. After she withdraws her hands, he hugs his knees to his chest as well. Setting his chin on one knee he watches her in turn.
"I'm sure there are a lot of things you want to know. Just like there are a lot of things I want to know." He gives a little shrug. "You wanted to let me go. Didn't you? But you also have other things you want to ask me. If you're familiar with my file, you know what I can do. Just because I'm stuck in this cell here, doesn't mean I'm not also free. So, saves you face in front of Captain America, and.." His eyes wander the walls. "I need to get something from this place." He says, quite candidly.
Watching the food go down to the ground, "You didn't make it did you?" He'll feel guilty if she did. Maybe eat the bagelwich. Or whatever that is. He arches a brow as she chooses to join him rather than sit in the perfectly good chair over there. He watches as she plays with his foot. After she withdraws her hands, he hugs his knees to his chest as well. Setting his chin on one knee he watches her in turn.
"I'm sure there are a lot of things you want to know. Just like there are a lot of things I want to know." He gives a little shrug. "You wanted to let me go. Didn't you? But you also have other things you want to ask me. If you're familiar with my file, you know what I can do. Just because I'm stuck in this cell here, doesn't mean I'm not also free. So, saves you face in front of Captain America, and.." His eyes wander the walls. "I need to get something from this place." He says, quite candidly.
"I'm room service sometimes, not menial labor." There is a sort of wry smirk from Elle at that, and she tosses her hair over one shoulder. Image of her in a white apron at a stove, busy being a nice coddling housemum. Not. Her eyes narrow critically, roving over the blank wall in front of her, not really seeing it. Lips are set into a thoughtful angle. "I didn't have a reason to want to bring you in," she dismisses with a rolling shrug in her voice, now returning her gaze at Brian. He may or may not know of the long-term results of her latest collision with Phoenix, but maybe he doesn't need to. "Don't flatter yourself; there's not a whole lot to do with feeling sorry."
Her expression takes on a sort of reproving 'sorry sweetums' vibe, but then there is a rather swift influx of warmth into her posture, the woman letting her bent knee flop over onto the other so she can turn and face him more squarely. "But might've anyway. Something like you's too precious to keep in a cage." This? Is said totally earnestly.
"You're above that." He states flatly, as to the menial labor. Well then he won't feel so bad. The tray goes forgotten then, his attention turning back to the woman on his wooden bed. He smirks a little bit. "I'll flatter myself all I want, thanks. Helps me stay positive." The last word is said with a certain brightness. A brightness that is most probably fake.
Turning his back against the wall a little to face her, he leans back slightly. Not sure how to answer that sentiment he simply watches her, one hand goes out behind him to support himself. His features become flat though, his brows narrowing slightly. "What do you want?"
"I think the question was," Elle articulates with a small sigh through her nose, drumming one hand on the hard surface of the bed. The nails make a tiny clacking noise. "What do you want? All I wanted was to ask a question, and you… okay, you didn't give me a very good answer." There is a frown, and she eyes him more sternly, though there is also something undeniably kitten-ish about the look. "You wanna try again? Why did you…"
She lets her eyes dart around to the walls, the chair, the tray, the insanity-inducing bareness of her surroundings, before traveling back to the man. "You planning on a clone coming to set you free, or what?" What a confident chap.
"I feel like I answered it just fine. I told you I needed something here. Were you not listening?" He gives a scolding look, a look a teacher would give a student who was having trouble paying attention. Though for a moment he himself seems to be distracted by the clacking noise. Staring down hard at the clickity-clack-clak, one hand comes up slowly and if she'll allow him, places his hand on top of hers. In a 'stop' motion. Withdrawing his hand, he goes to scratch the stubble on his chin.
"I could do that." He gives a little shrug as he pans over the possibilities. "But I won't have to when you help set me free." Brian murmurs softly.
Elle does let Brian lay his hand over hers without complaint, though she sends a mildly surprised, contemplative glance up at him when he does. There is some semblance of an ironic grin being drawn onto her face; a fairly insignificant one, though it momentarily shows a glimpse of white teeth. "…Why. Do you think I would do that?" She lets her head tip so its tilted towards one shoulder, examining the second joints of her fingers down below her, somewhere by Brian's knees. She's all ears, though. This is something she'll really, really want to hear the answer to.
One hand goes to rest on his knee as he leans against the wall, his eyes sliding away from Elle and towards the rest of the room. Such a great view of the chair from here, really. His face contorts and screws up into a confused expression. "You're not going to?" It's said as if they had already made the plans. As if things were already set into stone and she was stepping out of an agreement.
"You said so yourself, you had no reason to want to bring me in. Which makes me start thinking.." He puts on his thinking face, as to demonstrate, "That means you're not gung-ho. Like your boyfriend, Magnet, you could care less about what the Company wants." He puts on a little grin. "Besides. It'll be fun."
The duplicator is damn lucky that this was all slated to be just a provisionary fix, only ever meant as an inconsequential stepping-stone from point A to B, and thus, no security cameras are transfixed on them like mechanical eyes growing in the walls. "You may look precious, but you're brainless," Elle remarks with a cold grimace. Curious disbelief is there, but also a contemptuous willingness to keep pace with the crazy as if it were a serious game. "So— I help you leave. Let you dance right out the front door. Whatever. Where would that leave me?" Out of a home, out of shelter, out of support, with the bonus of a switch from green-aura-for-friendly to red-aura-for-hostile as far as every single one of her blasted fellow minions go. She watches him intently, more waiting for the 'duh' light bulb to go on than anything else.
"People have been telling me that a lot lately." Brian marks with a hint of agitation. Tracy Strauss told him that just because he kidnapped her and stole goverment information. Whatever. Releasing his knees he goes to let his legs dangle off the edge of the bed. Leaning forward he goes to pick up the bagle thingie. The only thing that looked good to him. Bringing his other hand up to it, he starts picking at it and examining it closely. Hmm.
No 'duh' light bulb flicks on. In fact his attention has seemed to entirely have left the subject of escaping and leaving and has moved onto bagles. He abandons the subject for now. Taking a small bite of the thing after a moment he wears a rather contemplative look, judging the food as he digests it. "Not bad." A little nod of concession. "How's your dad, by the way?"
There is a swift eyeroll from Elle, confirmation that she is dearly glad he has dropped the subject. "I can't imagine why you'd care," she answers somewhat sourly in regard to the subject of her dad, eyes fololowing him, despite herself, as he picks up the bagel and takes a bite. Her next move is to stretch out for one of the strips of bacon sitting in a little pile next to the bagelwich's plate. Hey, if he isn't going to eat any of it.
She eyes him again, after she has nibbled off a piece. Fatty goodness mm. "People have been telling you what? That you're precious, brainless…?" Because she is rather more inclined towards the latter opinion as of now.
"I've heard stuff about him. Never met him." Brian cascades into the conversation even though she neatly brushes it aside. "Heard he's kinda.. strict." He takes another bite as she brings the bacon out. "Was he hard on you?" He flicks his eyes over to her before frowning. "Sorry. That's none of my business. There I go being brainless again." So he changes the subject.
"The Company wiped me. Several times I guess. I was a kid, and I got my power synthetically. My parents refused to let me become a Company experiment, so they were killed. I got shuttled off safe though. And then the Company finally brought me back to the fold, after the bridge to Staten exploded." Another bite, taking a pause to chew.
"So there's holes in my memory. But, you want to know something really neat?" He places his bagelwich back down on the tray. "I've found something that brings memories back."
Funny thing, but now that Brian is the one who is brushing off the subject, Elle becomes the one who is less willing to let it go. "—Yeah," she says abruptly, her voice taking on a tinge of iron. "It is your business, because Helena went blabbing to every single member of your group, didn't she? You can probably tell me more about it than I know. How many people hasn't she told." Ooh, the squirmy little betch will pay. Will she ever.
An grim little exhalation follows, though, and she appears to let the matter go. Kind of. She doesn't glance back over at him immediately, fingering the bottom of her bacon strip, twisting it round and round. There is little she has to say in response to everything he had said about his parents, Staten, and synthetic abilities, perhaps because she is still trying to determine whether or not he is very flamboyantly lying.
Instead, she merely does a silent, questioning snort. "I've had someone promise to try and bring back my memories before. He— it didn't work. It doesn't matter, either, because I've already seen them all on videotape."
Brian arches a brow, he honestly has no idea what Elle is talking about. But he does now. He'll have to talk to Helena about Elle later. He then goes to stand up smootly. Taking the tray he goes and sets it on the chair before returning to the bed. His hand then flashes forward and reclaims the strip of bacon. Bringing it up he bites a piece of it off. "I was talking about my memories. Brings mine back. Never said anything about you."
He gives an arched brow at her as if to say, 'Did I?'. With that his free hand goes to take the white shirt off again. Placing it back on top of his suit jacket, he finishes the piece of bacon. "Now, it's been fun, Elle. But I do have a lot to do today. Do stop by again when you're in the neighborhood." He murmurs with a little flash of teeth.
And then he flops onto the wooden piece of wood, making it seem more comfortable than it actually is, the way he lays on it. Laying his head back on his jacket-shirt-pillow he watches her. Studies her.
Oh hey now, that was Elle's bacon, kthx. But even though she looks primly grumpy, she dourly just lets Brian have it; a half-eaten sliver of hog's meat is not worth getting in a slapfight over. As the duplicator is pulling his shirt off, she extricates her limbs from underneath her and steps down onto the floor, a dainty movement. "Oh, don't let me keep you from your busy life. What was I thinking." Just as she passes next to him on her way to the cell's door, she lets one of her wrists crook downwards, letting out a healthy electrical ~crackle~ of sparks as her fingers gently skim up his exposed navel.
Then it's one last, serenely entertained smile from her, and out the door she goes. Click.