2012-08-31 - Best Served Cold - Aftermath

The parking lot was a mess. At least nobody called the cops. Keller? Well, he'd seen better days. He had a chunk of the car's twisted and torn metal punched through his chest. In fact, it went in his back and punched out through his ribcage where it punched right through Heather and out her back. Both of them have limbs twisted and bloodied, compound fractures to say the least, and there's the acid burning of Heather's torso. Amazingly... her heart wasn't pierced, and it's beating ever so slowly, but there's also a nasty gash on her forehead back into her hairline and it's obvious she smashed her head... obvious by means of the crushed temple that has her apparently unconscious, perhaps even comatose. Keller is done, kaput, living impaired. With any luck, he's losing at checkers to the grim reaper right now. Anyhow, the girl is alive though barely so. She is also missing the front half of the clothing on her upper body. It's -almost- fortunate for her that the skin and muscle are mostly burned away there too... to preserve her modesty? Well, that's already starting to heal as folks arrive downstairs.

Luke knows Heather's highly publicized ability very well. He watched it all happen on the news, and he even followed her progress some. After all, supers who don't wear masks are pretty few and far between. He'd actually wanted to work with her, especially after they met the other day. And then, on the way downstairs, he's told she just did a swan dive out the window in an attempt to help them. When they hit the street, chaos is slowly winding up. Several crying, gawking onlookers, and sirens in the way-distance. Luke takes Tanya to lean against the wall, and says, "P-dub, can you be the crutch here for a second?" Once Tanya is stable and propped, Luke crosses to the car Heather landed on and rends the trunk open with his bare hand. He grunts when he sees what he's looking for - a heavy blanket. He takes it out, shakes it out flat on the ground, and moves to Heather. He eyes the situation for a moment, side to side, trying to figure out the best approach before lifting her off.

"Yeah, sure, let the woman who /doesn't/ have super strength carry the partially conscious person, that's /totally/ legit!" Cordelia rolls her eyes. Yes, Tanya needed a lift and so did Heather, but it's /Luke Cage/. He can carry things! Heavy things! Like, things that weigh more than /two women/. But whatever. She smiles over to Tanya, using her free hand to poke at the woman's chin. "You awake in there? Come on, now..." Looking over to Luke, seeing what he's doing, she thinks as well about it. Then gets an idea. "...I could probably phase her through that wreckage. Need a spot to put Tanya down, though. Gonna need both hands."

All Tanya knows is that she's so tired. It had been hell trying to deal with those guards, trying to keep them from blasting Luke with every bolt they could fire. She curls up as best as she can in his arms, trying to not fall asleep. It wouldn't really be /dangerous/ if she did; she just--wouldn't wake back up for a /long/ time. When they hit the street and she's propped up against Cordelia, Tanya wraps her arms around her girlfriend's neck. By the sassy look on her face, she's about to make a quip in retort to that poke to her chin--but then sees the parking lot. Specifically, where Luke was headed. She blanches a little, eyes widening. "Shit..." she mutters, the word only somewhat slurred. She glances back to Cordelia, then, and says, "Go. I'll be fine.  Just--g'do somethin' for her, yeah...?" She's fine with being set down so she can lean against a wall--well, sit down and lean against it, anyway--so Cordelia can help get that woman out of the wreckage. If she's still even alive...

Luke says, "Nah, nah, it's cool. Just hang with Tanya. I got this..." He cocks his head, trying to figure the gentlest way to do this, and then finally just scoops his arms under her legs and torso, and lifts her off the metal. There's no way around it - the jagged bit does just as much damage going out as it did going in, but in the end, he figures it'll all heal up anyway. Plus, she's out, and won't know how rough this all was. Phew. Turning, carrying the bloody mess in a cradle-carry, and laying her as gently as he can on the blanket he found. He wraps her up in that, then, and scoops her up again, cradle style in front of him. When he approaches Tanya and Cordelia, he turns, backs toward them and takes a knee on the sidewalk. "Hop on, Tanya. You're takin' the C train home. Or, well, to Heather's place first, but yeah. Lets getthefuckout."

Schlooorrrrp! Heather's body comes off of that metal thingee, bits of bone and goo stuck to the hunks of what used to be a car. Other than that, she's limp in Luke's arms. Already though, the gash on her head seems to be smaller, and the caved in temple (and likely damage to the eye) has healed some, but she's still in a bad way.

"...Dude, that's nasty. Could have saved her a /lot/ of ouch by just letting me do it." Cordelia hangs onto Tanya, frowning at Luke. Bad, bad Luke. Direct approach hurts friends sometimes. "Just... Okay. Yeah. Let's go." Helping Tanya forward, towards Luke, she smiles a bit. "...But hey. Fun day, right? Right?" Oh, Passwall. Horrid timing, as always.

...for just a moment, Tanya looks like she's going to be sick. Especially at the loud and nauseating sound of the woman being--removed--from the car so directly. All she can do is nod at Cordelia, closing her eyes as she climbs back onto Luke, wondering if her face is as green as she feels. "Thanks," she murmurs, trying to curl up into a ball again and not think about the gash to the woman's head, the damage to her eye--she doesn't need to revisit her lunch any more than Luke needs to wear it.

Off of the car parts, healing already, Heather is laid in the blanket. She is a limp noodle at this point, though a very warm one. Her body temperature has gone quite a bit up while healing. Burning a lot of energy here, she's gonna have mondo munchies after this.

Luke stands, and not surprisingly, moves about as if he isn't carrying anything. Adding 200-250 lbs to his day is literally negligible. "Uh, yeah, P-dub, fun." Luke manages a soft chuckle, and then shakes his head. With the incoherent woman on his back, and the nearly-chestless woman in his arms, Cordelia is pretty much his only conversation partner. "So, you know where Heather lives? I think I saw something about penthouse on the news shows, back when..." When Heather was in the news, that is.

Passwall shakes her head. "Not a clue. Maybe she's got like. Some information on her? Wallet, something. Promise I won't take any money! She kinda saved my life back there, not about to do that to her." Being the only one conscious with a hand free she smiles a bit and does minor 'jazz hands' to show she's able to look. "...Think I should?"

There's a small, slurred chuckle from the woman on Luke's back. "This's why we have phones, people, since she s'n't 'xactly have a lot'a clothes..." she mutters, and tries to shift position a little so she can reach into her hip pocket. "Gimme headline, somethin' to look f'r, s'mebody..." Clutching on with her left arm, she uses the right hand to navigate the menus, fighting to keep her eyes focused. The pink of her eyes is more muted, more hazy, similar to someone very tired having a "glassy haze" to their eyes or something.

"Oh, definitely," Luke says to Cordelia. "I don't even hafta unwrap her, right?" Guess what: Luke doesn't like blood and gore any more than anyone else! He just has a lot more rep on the line, no matter how much he'd like to double over and lose his lunch too. "Sure, Tanya, she was on... oh, it was MTV's Cribs! Google 'Heather Danielson Cribs'" Luke says over his shoulder at the squirming woman.

Passwall waits patiently, but frowns slightly. No, she didn't want to wait - BLEEDING WOMAN AND SEMI-CONSCIOUS WOMAN BEING CARRIED BY LARGE BLACK MAN! I mean really, the tabloids write themselves. This could be bad press if there was anyone around. "We should like. Duck in an alley while we wait? And hopefully not attract witnesses. You realize how this looks, right LC?"

A few close calls, and a couple messy near spills when Heather's body twisted a bit almost under its own power but not quite, but all of that goes on. Passwall's wallet lift was simple and efficient, and Heather's ID did indeed list her home address as Dorilton, Penthouse 2, complete with zip code and all that jazz. It's a fairly well known and posh building of course, and once inside.. and upstairs, things are interesting. As bad as it looks, things could be worse... well maybe not. Anyhow, in through the walls, and then up the stairwell and into the Penthouse through the door you don't need keys to pass by. Maybe someday, Heather will learn to line every wall and door with tanks of water but not today! But the place is spacious and such... the bedroom in back, and a sofa in here as well as a bathroom somewhere by the bedroom and a large open area where she must work out.

Luke marvels at the experience of being passes through a wall. "So /that's/ what thats like. Werid, P-dub." He glances back at the wall, still unwinded by all the stairs and carrying of people, and then looks across to the couch. Closest piece of furniture that belongs to Heather, so he lays her out, but doesn't unwrap the blanker. It might still be... gooey under there. Once she's set down, Luke turns to Passwall. He remembers about Tanya, right? "Ok, P-dub, we brought her home. Who knows how long she'll be out. We should beat it, right?" He seems a little hesitant though, taking in the counters full of fun foods, and imagining the drinks in the fridge. We're not in Harlem anymore, Toto.

Passwall looks around a bit, frowning at the idea. "What? No, dude. Gotta... Y'know." She makes her way to the kitchen - holy crap, that's a lot of food - and looks at the cookie jars. /Jars/. Plural! What's up with /that/?! But hey, cookies. She opens one, and takes a snack. "...Might as well get some noms. I mean, she's rich, right? Look at this place. And besides, have to be here when she wakes. Make sure she's alright..." A bite of the cookie is taken, and she speaks with her mouth full. "And shtuv."

Even as she's set on the sofa, Heather's blanket pasta canneloni roll or whatnot... shifts a bit. By the time you are all in the kitchen, eating... motion might be noticed out of the corner of one eye or some such. When folks look back towards the sofa, Heather is peering over the back of it, holding blanket to her chest, blood smeared on her face.. and looking like she might pass out again any moment. Her eyes are locked upon Cordelia's mouth as the girl eats -her- noms. Then comes something that might be readily identifiable.. a tummy rumble to end all tummy rumbles. Might even make folks look at Luke for a moment, but it came from the sofa for sure.

This is the first time Tanya doesn't really pay attention to the swishing and the phasing and the such. Normally, it fascinates her, but right now, all she's trying to do is stay awake. When they get into the woman's apartment, she looks around, resting her chin on Luke's back. Cordy's cookie-theft earns her something of a stern look, though it's tempered to the point of being more like a vaguely stern-ish glance, really. "She's kind'a right, Mista' Cage," she points out, tapping the man's back for emphasis. "She might need help or s'methin'." At the gurgling and rumbling, Tanya arches a brow and taps Luke again. "Maybe she's waking up after all. I'll be fine in a chair or somethin'." Hopefully that's as coherent as she thinks it is, though she wouldn't necessarily blame anyone if it wasn't.

Rumble? What? "...That wasn't the big guy, was it?" Cordelia looks over to Heather, and... Yeah. Okay, she gets it. Picking up a cookie jar, she heads over and hands one towards Heather's mouth. "...Cookie?" It'd be so adorable, if it weren't for the gore.

"Uh, yeah, of course..." Cage says. "We gotta make sure she's ok..." He's hurrying to follow Cordelia to the kitchen, Tanya3PO nearly forgotten on his back, and has two Cage-sized handfuls of snacks when Heather's head pops up, /and/ he's tapped by his surprise passenger. Big, tough, frikkin Luke Cage jumps, and spins, holding the snacks up like ridiculous brass knuckles. "Sweet CHRISTMAS, woman! Don't do that!" And then he becomes self-conscious about his ten-finger discount and heads for the couch. "Uh, here, I was just getting you something to eat..." Cage clears his throat.

"Then set me down," mutters Tanya, trying to peer around and give him a vaguely amused look. "And next time I'm burning both'a yer shoes," mutters Tanya, laying her head back down. "Maybe ev'n teleportin' you guys somewheres. See how you two like stealin' from someone who's tryin' to help /then/..." Her bitchings really have little conviction in them, especially when they're given just before a rather wide yawn.

"...Stealing?" The cookie was apparently taken from Cordelia's hand, as... It's no longer there. Huh. "This is like... The victory feast! Yeah. We won, we got... Uh. Stuff." Not the battery acid gun on her back, or the electric bolt gun slung over her shoulder, nope nope nope. "And we brought her back to rest! It's not /that/ bad, hon. C'mon, Luke, tell 'er."

"Well, yeah..." Luke says, gently lowering Tanya to a kitchen chair. He looks from Cordie to Tanya, thinking of how to explain. "It's like, if we were all over at my house, I'd be all, -Yo ladies, help yourself to whatever!- Except, I'd probably get it for you. And since Heather is a friend of mine," Stretch things much? You met once. Ok, she was eyeing you hard, Luke, but still. "I know she'd want us to make ourselves at home while we help her out. Maybe you two should help her into her jammies or something, huh? I won't peek, or nothin."

When she's set on the barstool, Tanya leans forward to fold her arms on the counter, eyes trying to close. She ends up doing the droopy-blinky bit. "She's not awake or conscious 'nuff to be host, and you don't know what's fine to eat'n what isn't. Wh'if she has'ta have a special diet, an' yer eatin' up the things she needs to live?  Hmmmmm--?" That "hmm" gets drawn out too much, and turns into a rather wide yawn, showing that she actually hasn't required much dental work in her life, and as she stretches her arms across the counter and arches her back.

Passwall raises an eyebrow, and goes to open the fridge. To check things. "Nope." Then to the cabinets. "Nope." Then back to Tanya. "None of them read 'special food'. It's regular stuff - if expensive and lots of it." She shrugs. "Girl has a high metabolism. All that healing has to come from somewhere, yeah? I mean, you've seen me drink lotsa fluids, yeah? Same thing. Kinda."

Cage holds up both hands, trying to mediate between the women, mostly to placate Tanya. "Ok look. It's cool. There is a /ton/ of food in here. We can't possibly make a dent in it. I mean, I /could/ but I'm just saying, let a man have his ho-ho, and a coffee, and call it good, you know? And lookit P-dub. How much can she even /eat/? Right?" He makes his way to set up the coffee maker, and turns back to face Tanya, since Passwall is pretty comfortable with helping herself. "So, what can I get ya, Tanya? The Columbian roast, or the Egyptian decaf?"

Realizing she can't win the argument, Tanya just shakes her head. "Nothin'," is all she says, then pushes the stool back and slides off it. She teeters in the direction of the only piece of furniture, the L-couch that Heather's taking most of. It's the little bit that juts out that Tanya's aiming for, so she can curl up and wrap her arms around her knees. Being small has its advantages, like being able to cram oneself into a ball and find comfort even on the small bit of couch real estate. Yes, she's choosing to curl up all but right next to a body that probably still looks like so much chunky salsa.

Well, Heather has been thrashing about a bit. When she was awake earlier, her left eye was filled with blood. When she opens her eyes this time, her body is pretty much done healing. Now she -needs- fuel. There's another groan rather than a rumble this time. She tries to get up and them tumbles onto the floor with a *thud*, feet tangled in that gory blanket. "God, this thing is sticky.." She mutters, "And I'm fuckin' hungry!" Yeah, she curses like a sailor. She needs protein. "I think I could eat a cow about now." she adds.

Passwall looks over to Heather, another cookie in her mouth. She blinks a few times, and then looks down to the cookie jar in her hands, open. Then back to Heather, holding the cookie jar out. "Wan' shum?"

Cage frowns as Tanya turns down the coffee. If anyone could use a little pick-me-up, it'd be the worn-out Wiccan. Oh well, you can lead a - never mind! Luke puts the finishing touches on to get the coffee maker working, and looks over when Heather wakes up for real this time. "Hey Heather, welcome back!" The enormous man in her kitchen waves, with a broad smile on his face. He moves to the freezer and yanks it open, calling out again, "You want a steak? I know my way around a grill."

Jolted back to consciousness with a soft, "Shi dàn!" exclamation, Tanya blinks quickly and looks down at Heather. Since no one else does it, the tiniest one unfolds herself and goes to slide to the floor in a crouch, fighting the urge to yawn in the blonde's face. "C'mon, let's get you up and see if anyone's left you any food," she says as she goes to help untangle the blanket before offering to help her to her feet.

"... we're in... my place." mutters Heather as her attention comes back to the present. She drifts her eyes about and blinks a bit, "Grill?" she asks, shaking her head a bit, not negative so much as to clear her mind. "Sure... grill. But need protein.... now. Counter to the left of the fridge, top drawer under it. Toss me a couple power bars from there." Condensed protein, only a minimal amount of flavor. Girl must be -starved-. But she allows herself to be helped up and just hopes Luke stays facing his back to her, but she does her best to not present that freshly healed chest of hers to him as she gestures to the bedroom. "Need... something clean, shower, and those power bars." she mutters.

Passwall perks up at Heather's insistence, quickly grabbing as many power bars as she can find, and follows on to the side of Tanya that doesn't have Heather on it. She still has a cookie in her teeth, most of it sticking out. She takes a look at Tanya and smiles, dashes to the bedroom, drops the bars on the bed, and when they get into that room she breaks off half the cookie and hands it towards tired Tanya's mouth with an 'eat up!' expression on her face.

Lucas Cage, as it may surprise the ladies currently present, was raised to be a gentleman. If his Momma ever caught him sneakin' uninvited glances at a woman 'in a state', she'd about twist his ear right off. When he sees her struggling to get upright in the corner of his eye, he focuses thoroughly on rummaging through the noted drawer, and doesn't come up until he sees peripheral signs of the blanket being arranged. Turning around, he walks four protein bars over to the woman and hands them to her, glancing at Cordie leading the way. "Yeah, of course Heather. Sorry for invading your fortress and all. Seemed like the best place to bring you. Go get cleaned up. I make you that steak."

After helping hoist the woman to her feet--which involves a bit of leverage since Tanya's outweighed a little--but manages to get her up, then the blanket is retrieved and draped around the blonde. When the other two come over, she just says, "Excuse me," to Cordelia with perhaps a touch of ice to her tone, reaching around her to take the Power Bars from Luke. "Come on," she says to Heather, "let's get you into the shower. Here, start munching on this.  We'll get you showered, dressed, and full, okay?" The rest she'd had getting over here helped a little, refilling her reserves enough to make her just able to focus on getting Heather taken care of.

Grabbing a power bar, Heather tears into it. A couple bites go down, and she seems to have more strength already. But that done, she and the girls end up in the bedroom where she just drops the blanket and starts staggering towards the bathroom while leaving bits and pieces of clothing on the floor behind her. Some is ruined... heck, some of the pieces are half burned away by acid. At this point she no longer cares and reaches into crank the hot water on...

Passwall looks to Tanya with a frown. Okay... no cookie. She slumps into sitting on the couch, frowning at herself. It suddenly occurred to her that Tanya didn't like that she nicked some biscuits. She even seems to have lost her appetite, and doesn't finish the half of her cookie previouly offered to Tanya. Instead, she quickly stands again, moves to the kitchen, grabs some paper towels, and sees what she can do about the bloody mess. It's the least she could do.

Cage, true to his word, finds a grill pan and it on the stove top. Two of the biggest frozen steaks he can find go in the microwave to defrost - not an ideal solution, but necessary in a time crunch. He washes his hands in the sink and pointedly does /not/ think about his acquaintance in the shower. Definitely not. Nuns. Puppies. Baseball. Homeruns. First Base... third base... showers... Shoot! His own brain was betraying him. How could something as wholesome as baseball let him down like - DING! The Microwave was done, so he dances around Passwall getting cleaning supplies, grabs the steaks and sets them aside while he waits for the grill to heat up.

While Heather's showering, Tanya enters her bedroom to find some clothes--and is startled at the sheer number. She knew the woman was something of a "fashionista", but wow. She looks for things like sweats--comfortable, baggy, and warm. And slippers, of course. They'll all be brought to the bathroom, held in one arm while she leans against the sink and rubs the inner corners of her eyes. Tired, cranky, tired, and hungry. And cranky. And tired. She stays in the bathroom to make sure Heather doesn't take a spill or the like. She can't imagine what it has to do to a mind, smacking into a car then healing up from all of that, but she can't imagine it to be an easy process.

In the shower, Heather just leans into the spray, steam fogging up the huge mirror. After a minute or so she ends up grabbing her poof and bodywash and scrubbing something fierce. She doesn't do hour long showers herself, and before long she's sliding the doors open and holding a hand out towards Tanya... "Towel?" she asks with a bit of a smile. She's looking better. Concentrated protein seems to have helped out, as did her healing ability. Yup, no cuts or scrapes... anywhere visible. When handed the towel, she dries off and makes small talk, "Thanks for bringing me back here and not leaving me in that.. what was it.. a Passat? I caught a glimpse of it on the way down." Once dried, she pulls on the sweats and such and gestures out after adding, "And thanks for the obvious concern that kept you in here while I steamed the place to hell and back."

Passwall has been fervent in cleaning up the blood. But... Just damn. That's a lot of blood. She has to triple-wrap her hand to get it all up, and even then, the paper towels don't get it on the first try. Or even third. She's cleaning up as best she can - maybe she's trying to be penitent... For cookies.

Like Cordie, Cage is on chore-duty. He's not convinced having a snack at a friend's house is all that ebil, but then, he's also not Tanya's girlfriend. Boyfriend. Whatever! Not his business. His business is getting these steaks just right. It's a pretty slap-dash pepper rub, but it should be enough seasoning to hide the 'defrost' he had to do, and by the sound of things in the kitchen, they are sizzling right along. His attention is completely on them though. That woman needs food! And protein bars don't count in his book (because that book was written by his Momma).

"You're welcome," says Tanya, forcing a smile for Heather. It's obvious that the forced bit is from tiredness, however, from the way her eyes are a bit droopy, and the bit of sagging around the face. "Didn't want you to take a header because you were all wonky from the--uh--yeah. Besides, steam's good for the pores, right? And hell, you did us a solid in there, so least we could do.  Well, that and steal some food apparently, but whatever." Yes, that does still kind of chafe. "Come on, let's get you back out there and get your stomach filled with steak, yeah?" The smile gets a bit more sincere as she pushes off from the sink, to start heading to the door.

"Then you... there." says Heather as she now moves to help Tanya along, and guides her to the big four poster king sized bed. "Lie down and get some rest. I'm gonna go scare Mister Cage by eating more than him." she offers with a bit of a smirk. Of course, she uses that strength of hers to basically force Tanya to flop down onto the bed before she turns towards the living room and announces, "Tanya's taking a siesta... those steaks smell amazing."

(( Fade Out ))