Participants:
| Scene Title | Your Presidential Problem |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Tracy consults with someone regarding the issue of My Two Presidents (sitcom airing this fall on FOX!) |
| Date | Oct 24, 2009 |
Old Lucy's: Upstairs
Though one might remember when a certain fiery woman lived here… Now the living area above Old Lucy's has changed hands. The open living room and kitchen are homey, a commingling of two people's tastes. The leather couch sits kitty corner to a one of red suede and a bit smaller. A large bird cage for it's budgie inhabitant takes up it's own corner beside dark paneled walls. Bookshelves with literary pieces of a variety both academic and not take up another small section.
The kitchen is large, with a rolling wood and black marble island to give more counter space to work on. Pots and pans hang from the roof and track lighting keeps it not gloomy. A proper oak dining table has been set up with matching chairs instead of the 70's castoff that the residents have been known to own and a bowl of fresh fruit sits in the center.
Down a hall lay's multiple doors. A master bedroom occupied by the oldest resident and occasionally have a pervading smell of whiskey and smoke coming from it when the door is open. A second door with a cross above it, a third with no marking that is occupied by the third resident of the premises. Two other doors lead to a linen closet and bathroom respectively. A black cat with a red velvet collar and a little swarovski charm dangling from it can be found meandering at will.
"It's weird coming up here…" Cardinal's tone is quiet, conversational as he looks over the upstairs living area, leaning his hip against the leather couch, arms folding over his chest, "…I always expect to see her coming around the corner." He shakes his head a little, then pushes off from the arm of the sofa to step around, dropping himself down to sit on the leather, legs stretching out before him and one arm folding behind his head, "Should've shot Edward with a bigger gun. Anyway, she should be here soon, right?"
"It's weird coming up here…" Cardinal's tone is quiet, conversational as he looks over the upstairs living area, leaning his hip against the leather couch, arms folding over his chest, "…I always expect to see her coming around the corner." He shakes his head a little, then pushes off from the arm of the sofa to step around, dropping himself down to sit on the leather, legs stretching out before him and one arm folding behind his head, "Should've shot Edward with a bigger gun. Anyway, she should be here soon, right?"
"Hopefully she'll be here soon." Abby's grumpy. This is what happens when you wake up to someone else in a familiar body in your bed in the morning. Richards heard all about it, about Francois and his 'hands' comments. Abigail's parked on the couch, a plate of shortbread cookies, honest to god pot of tea with a cozy, coffee pot and cups. She's prepared for female company that is of the higher manners sort.
"And you say that all the time when you come here. At least I kept her furniture? If you want some of the stuff, for the library, I got some of her stuff in storage"
Tracy is right on time, to the point where it's just as though she were waiting for the second hand to strike thusly in order to knock. She raps, three times, simply and stiffly. She's wearing a black-and-blue pencil dress, formed very well along the curves of her body, with a black blazer over it. How professional! And leggy. She has a bag over one shoulder, and her other arm is in a sling.
"No… it's yours. That'd just be…" Cardinal shakes his head a little, then he lifts it to look towards the door as there's a knock there. He'd get it, but it's not his apartmetn! So he just leans forward, reaching over to pick up a cup of coffee, murmuring, "At least she's punctual. Let's hope she's more cooperative than the last time."
"I haven't known her to be late before" Abigail lifts off from the couch, heading for the door. The door that looks like it should belong on some bunker somewhere, disguised to look normal and the security features on the place frankly look as if someone sunk a pretty penny into them. Locks are undone and the door opened once she looks through and sees that it's Tracy proper. Or maybe Niki or Jessica but the odds are against that. "Ms. Strauss? Come on in, I have someone I'd like you to meet"
Lke many people, Tracy is looking awya from the door when it opens. But her attention is soon turned to Abigail, whom she smiles - albiet not warmly, but the woman's probably not capable of a warm smile - to. She steps inside, high heels clicking on the floor, and only a little ruffled by the necessity of walking through a rowdy bar to get here. "Thank you so much for having me, I do appreciate it." And then she sees him. Cardinal. "Ah," she's a bit surprised, to be sure, maybe even miffed but hardly upset or snerky. "Well if it isn't the home invader from another life. Here to compensate me for the missing liquor?"
"No refunds." Cardinal leans back in his chair, lifting one foot, then the other to rest on the edge of the coffee table where all the cookies and tea-pot and such are set, his own mug of coffee raised in a casual salute to the woman as a smile curves roguish to his lips, "I preferred your other outfit, though. I heard you met Emile. My condolences."
"He told me you'd met before. But regardless, Tracy Strauss meet Richard. He prefers to be called Cardinal though. He's a close friend, has gotten me out of more than a few pickles and.. is exactly who you want to talk to with regards to your presidential problem" Yes, she's figured it out with the thanks to Richard. "Tea? Coffee?"
Tracy is a pale woman, but she certainly looks mildly horrified that such a secret is being spoken of - and so freely. Her banter with Cardinal is brief. "I can assure you, Mr. Cardinal, that Emile Danko will be the one in need of condolences when the police catch him. As it is all I'd have to do is bat my eyes in order to make this a huge incident - a terrorist attack on a member of the government using thermite - but I fear that would only lead to more disconcent and violence. At least, at the moment." Of course, thermite was also a substence 9/11 conspiracy theorists say was used to bring down the trade center. You be the judge. "As it is with my presidential problem, as you call it," she waves off tea, sitting down with a stiff back and perched right on the edge of the chair, very profeissional. "I hope you both understand just how very dangerous this situation is. And I hope I can count on both your discretion and your good judgement. I hope we all want what's best for the country as a whole."
"Actually," Cardinal observes mildly, "I'd rather like to see that get blown up in the news, given that attacks on normals are plastered all over the press but the attacks on the Evolved are ignored by major media outlets— it'd just be nice to see them get demonized for a change, you know?" A tight smile, then he shakes his head, "I've known about Nathan for some time, although I wasn't sure which was in the White House. What can you tell me?"
Abigail just sits back, retreating to the couch and tucking feet beneath her as she picks up her coffee cup. Time to listen, be quiet, play hostess.
Tracy remains straight-backed, tight lipped. But she nods. "I can probably tell you most of what you need to know regarding the topic. But before I do that, I have some expectations of you. Both of you. I need to know that you have no plans to harm the President, or comit any crimes of treason against the soverign govenrment. I only say so because this puts you in a precariously close position to our Commander in Chief, and I need to make sure."
"That does beg the question of 'Who is the President', doesn't it?" Cardinal lifts a brow, then shrugs, "I have no intention of harming the elected President, no, and I'm not planning to overthrow the government or anything ridiculous like that. I've got enough problems as it is already. If anything I'm trying to prevent crimes of treason, as you put it."
There's a look like, are you really asking me if i'd kill the president. There's one raised brow and abigail sighs. "No Ms. Strauss, i'm not planning on executing or harming anyone or committing any acts of treason. You have read my homeland file. You know what I've done. I cannot believe you have to ask me that" Seriously, ABigail can't.
"I'm sorry, Miss Beauchamp, if you consider the question offensive, but I can assure you it has nothing to do with you personally. I'd have asked the same thing of anyone here." And, of course, Cardinal is here. Who breaks in and steals peoples' booze. So there's that. Turning her blue eyes back to Cardinal, they seem to almost ice or glass over a second, but it's just the light. "I thank you for that. Now, to answer your question, the man acting as President is not the elected Nathan Petrelli. Nathan Petrelli has not been in office since May." She lets that sink in. Everything that's been done, signed into law, all of it is technically forfeit. "I've been in contact with him up until about a month ago. There was an altercation between the two men that destroyed my apartment. Both were missing for nearly two weeks." ANd yes, she managed to keep that hidden from everyone. Linderman helped, of course. "The future Nathan has since returned and resumed his position in D.C."
"I thought as much," Cardinal murmurs, leaning back in his seat slowly, sinking into the couch and taking a thoughtful sip of coffee, "The… change in his policies seemed to align with Ray's plans, which would make sense for the future Nathan to be carrying out. Did you know he was impeached, Tracy? Impeached, arrested, thrown in Moab to rot. Only President ever."
Well now, Abby was learning all sorts of new things and she didn't consider the question offensive, she was just surprised that the woman thought she could be capab… well wait, she had killed something or someone with her ability. Quiet still, sipping her tea.
"Who is Ray?" Tracy asks, being entirely unfamiliar with the man and his corpseish hand in all of this. She stiffens, even moreso than she is now, at the question. "Yes," she answers easily. "But I'd hardly call him the 'only President ever'. As far as I am concerned, that hasn't happened yet. My chief desire is getting Nathan back into the office where he belongs." Nathan. Not Mr. President. Not Nathan Petrelli. Just Nathan.
"It was for things he's already done in this timeline, you know…" A smirk twitches to Cardinal's lips, before he shrugs one shoulder, "It's possible. He might even be able to blame some of the— things he's done on the imposter, actually." A sip of his coffee, before noting, "The question is, why should we help you? What do we stand to gain, Tracy? Is he willing to repeal the Linderman Act? Hunt down Humanis First?"
If it's possible for the woman to brittle even more, she does. "Mister Cardinal," She says, pointly indiciating that professionalism is required at this juncture. "I'm afraid you don't really understand how repealing laws works. It's a long and arduous process that no one man can simply snap and have it done. And I cannot speak for Nathan Petrelli - the real Nathan Petrelli - at this point. What I am willing to do, however, is tell my own story publicly, as you've requested. If you help me, I'll do a Ginsburg and express the truth about what happened in my apartment building that night. At the very least, that should garner more dislike for radical Humanis First sects." She inches forward a little bit, looking over Cardinal curiously. "This, of course, is aside from the fact that you'll be helping preserve your country's integrity. What exactly do you think would happen if it were learned that an Evolved had worked to usurp the President six months ago, and that every peice of legislation, every treaty, every meeting and handshake from then until now was a lie? Moderates supporting stricter legislation against Evolved would be the very least of everyone's problems."
"Tracy…" Cardinal leans forward, both brows arching a touch, "…everything that Nathan Petrelli's done is a lie. His election to the Senate? Fixed, arranged by the Linderman Group. Rickham? Blackmailed out of office by Nathan's backers for the secret that he's Evolved - the same secret, I have to point out, that Nathan holds." A faint smile, "By your logic, it'd be better to get rid of the current timeline Nathan, so that little 'secret' never gets out into the public eye. It's not as if it's possible to prove the man in the White House isn't him. It is." He leans back, then, "Hell, the man's own bastard daughter won't even defend him." A smirk, before he shrugs, "I'd like to see more press against Humanis, though, and it couldn't hurt to have the ol' backstabber owe me a few. What do you need?"
Men. "My logic is that this is a very sensitive topic," she explains flatly. "But whatever anyone thinks of me, Mr. Cardinal, I would prefer to see the proper man in office." And the one she's sleeping with. The one she holds more sway with. But it's also the right thing to do, so everyone wins. She's willing to easily move on to the agreement. "My problems seem to have compounded of late. I've lost track of the current Nathan, as you call him, and have even tried less…conventional means to find him, but to no avail. None the less, I think I shall be able to handle that part myself when teh time comes." Even Molly couldn't help. "And the problem still stands that even if I do find him, I have nothing to do with the future Nathan. I had spoken to someone who could have helped, but he seemes to have dissapeared as well. I'm at rather a loss."
"So you need help in first locating Nathan, and then putting him into the big white chair?" One hand lifts, fingers splayed against his chin and lips thoughtfully, "I'll see what we can do. It might take awhile, we have a few other priorities— keeping the Statue of Liberty from being destroyed, preventing the world from getting blown up with nuclear weapons…" Dry, he smiles, fingers fluttering lightly in the air, "You know, shit like that. I'll see what we can do, though it won't be fast or easy."
Tracy nods her head once. "Like I said, I have my own work to do on the matter. And in the meantime we do have a protocol we're putting in motion with the U.N. concerning Evolved rights, as well as an election coming up." Both things that, she's sure, the real Nathan would approve of. "However, I am a woman of my word. If you find you need any help with your own projects that I might provide, do let me know." Her blue eyes narrow. "Through a telephone call. Or by knocking."
Oht he things you hear when you're sitting quietly, watching and listening. THe request for knocking makes for a muffled laugh hidden in her wwrist
Cardinal grins a cocky grin back at her. "Oh, but you look so good in lingerie," he observes, rolling up to his feet, "I'll be in touch. In the meantime, if you could throw any supporters you can at Donovan? I'd appreciate it. I rather like the man, and Chesterfield's too shady for my tastes." And this is coming from Richard Cardinal.
Tracy frowns again, deeper than even when he broke into her apartment. "Because we have a loose alliance on certain issues does not mean that you have any say in where government support goes. Do not believe that you do." She nods her head once, glancing at Abby as she laughs, then back at Cardinal with a sigh. She can't wait until this is over.
"Sorry, sorry just, He's never knocked here. He scares me out of my mind a good three quarters of the time. First time I met him, he was in my little cell in the brothel basement." Abby explains. 'It's just.. him" Never mind that Richards never stolen from her either. quite the opposite.
"You asked 'if you need any help with your own projects'," Cardinal points out with a smirk back at her, "You offered, so I laid down what I would appreciate down on the table. For someone who's asking a whole lot - to help someone who is, to be honest, considered by most of our people to be the enemy - you're offering just about shit nothing, Tracy. For a so-called Washington Insider, you're not very good at give-and-take." A grin to Abby, and he sets down his coffee, "I'll see what I can do anyway. If just out of curiousity how it'll turn out."
"What I'm offering is working with you toward a common goal that, I think you should realize, if it is not reached could make your dislike for the Linderman Act an absolutely minute problem." She rises, turning to offer a good hand for a shake. "Are we in agreement on this?" She asks, raising her eyebrows. She seems a bit less terse, a bit more at ease, but not happy. Part of working with politicians - you pick up lying with body language too.
"I don't have any problems with the Linderman Group," replies Cardinal, brows lifting a touch as he pauses in his lean to set down the coffee, "I have problems with Nathan Petrelli selling out his entire species for his own personal gain. "In my ideal world, no version of that traitor'd be anywhere near the White House, but we live in an imperfect world." A twitch of his lips, and he reaches out to clasp her hand, "Better him than Mitchell, I suppose, or everyone thinking the Evolved tried to take over the White House."
It's tempting. All she has to do is think it. Not enough to ruin his hand, persay, but just to give him a little nudge of discomfort for being a prick. But that's now how politics work, and Tracy is nothing if not cool under pressure. Icy cool. Oh yeah. She gives his hand a firm, powerful, professional and well-moisterized and manicured shake. "Excellent, I'm so glad that you see things in my light. Don't hesitate to call, and I'll let you know if I find out where the proper President Petrelli is being kept." She nods her head, waiting a moment to see if anything important is said. If not, she'll head for the door. "Thank you, Miss Beauchamp."
There's a soft hum from Cardinal's pocket, and he reaches down to pull the phone out, flipping it open. "…and I've got another meeting to get to," he chuckles tiredly, "Man, I'd complain about getting underpaid if anyone fucking paid me for this shit." A faint smile, "Good seeing you again, Tracy, Abby, always good to stop by."