Participants:
| Scene Title | Longest Van Ride Ever |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Benji, Calvin, and Nora are given a ride and an inquisition by the ubiquitous Brians after D'Sarthe's gala. |
| Date | December 24, 2010 |
In a van down by the river
The inside of the dark vehicle is penetrated by the flashing blues and reds from outside. Dancing lights reflect off the watch of the driver as they come to a stop. The interior of the van is dark, the driver dealing with the officer at the door. The window down, Brian is speaking quietly with the cop. In the back, the words are almost inaudible, but the escape hadn't been the screeching tires, roaring around the corner and off a ramp type. More of the get into a car, start driving and O WHATS THIS type.
"That's crazy." Brian is remarking shaking his head. "Yeah. I usually don't even come down this way." The driver managed to throw his flak jacket into the back with the rest of the.. blankets.
"Well be sure to get home soon. Curfew."
"Will do officer. Thank you." As soon as the window is rolled up, the van itself gives a sigh of relief. Scooting around the corner, Driver Brian brings up a hand to scrub at his face. Making a stressed sound against his palm, he practically leans into the wheel.
In the back, Brian throws off the extra supplies, duffle bags, and a couple blankets. Thrown to the side, the Brian in the back goes to check the rest of his 'team'. They should be coming to now, his more sleepy duplicates were absorbed and the whole Brian team swapped around for who got to escape where.
"I have some water.. Do you guys want water?" Brian is crawling in the back of the cavernous van towards the front to grab at the water bottles he had brought before. More for himself(ves) but at least the sleepytime gang can be hydrated.
"No thank you," intoned quietly and politely, if utterly devoid of enthusiasm for the offer of any sustenance that does not involve caffeine and/or alcohol, Calvin sits against one side with his knees drawn up at a stagger before his bowtie. He is rumpled and pale, a cloth napkin wound haphazard round his slashed palm and dreads mussed into a greater state of disorder than usual. Until he sets to smoothing them back, damp from the snow melt helping somewhat. To keep them down.
There is glass glitter and blood on his tuxedo. Mmmost of it is his.
He is tired rather than directly hangdog, breathing finally slowed enough for him to stop sweating by the time he looks sideways after Nora for the thirtieth time since their departure. She is still alive.
"Well," he says, at length, "at least no one exploded."
The smallest — thus the drowsiest — is rubbing her eyes, forcing herself to sit up from where she was nestled in a heap, having fallen back asleep after making it to the van. She can't see to know how hurt the others are, but she can feel the sting of the cuts on her cheek and her shoulder, the dozen smaller pinpricks where the glass pierced her arms.
She shivers a little; lying in the snow has resulted in a damp and satin dress that's not at all practical for fleeing. "Sure," she murmurs to Brian, reaching a hand out toward his voice for a bottle. "Where'd Abby go to? Is she okay? Should we look for her?" she asks, voice a little plaintive in her helplessness to do anything, especially the last.
"Nn." This apparently means yes, despite the consonants chosen, and Benji is obliged to translate via sticking out a hand to take bottled water as offered, managing a brief, wan smile of thanks to Brian. He sits with a hip against the ground, legs folded, knees together and ankles crossed, a shoulder resting a wall of the van with that arm tucked around his midsection. Bowtie has been undone and left to hang loosely around his neck, collar of his shirt opened, hems untucked from black slacks with the distinctive ribbon of satin that lines from hip to ankle, showing its class and formality.
Despite where ice water has melted in patches on fine fabric. Some blood as well, showing up more on crisp white shirt, but none of his injuries are as dramatic as they could be. Most visible being more when he fell and grazed skin beneath left eye, and to match the other two, minor cuts and scrapes smatter him here and there.
It was quite an exit. Damp hair is mussed within an inch of its life to get glass out from it. Benji's pale stare swivels to Nora, and unstoppably, swivels straight to Calvin in needling inquiry, unable to really respond due to having no idea what to say to that.
Brian fixes Calvin with a long look, either trying to puzzle together a mystery or wondering how long it takes to do his hair. Whatever his query, he decides to leave it unspoken for the moment. Crawling ont the floor of the van, Brian holds up one bottle of water to Benji, in signal that he is about to toss it. And then toss he does. Giving a light underthrow of the bottle to the prettiest boy in school, he then secures the other bottle in Nora's hand firmly. He gives a little chuckle. "Last I saw, she was being carried off by I think.. a statue." He gives a shrug. Going to plant his own shoulder against the wall he lets out a sigh. "Let me have a sip when you're done." This part, directed to Benji.
"When you've known Abby for as long as I have. You stop worrying about her. Death has an aversion to her." He chuckles quietly, shaking his head. "I think she's fine.. I don't know who or the statue was.. who.. I don't know. But I think it was friendly. Hope it was friendly."He melts against the van wall. "So. How did you guys know about tonight? You wouldn't leave when I told you about the way better gas station party.. And Kevin.. Or Calv." He glances to Nora. "Summed up the night nicely. No one exploded. So. How do you guys know about this? And.. Why didn't you talk to the Ferry?" He gives them a skeptical look. "Do I need to talk to Eileen~"
"Morning sunshine," delivered driftily aside to the blind girl he thought it'd be fun to bring to an act of terrorism, Calvin reaches to nudge at the heel of her near foot. The one she lost a shoe off of. Woozily distracted. Also affectionate in a weird way. Kind've. Hullo, foot.
Until the absence of any answers re: Abigail on his end begins to mingle with the prickling absence of any answers from Benji. His eyes ring a touch chilly when they lift to meet inquiry head on, nonchalant, unwavering defiance softened only by the subtle sway translated up from the road uneven from one tire to the next.
Meanwhile Brian is staring at him, but he neglects to notice until he answers for them both.
Ah.
Fantastic.
"I invited them at the last second when my date bailed on me, Scoobie Doo. Is this a ride home or an inquisition?"
"A st-statue?" Nora echoes, eyes widening as she pulls her knees up and wraps her arms around her legs, tucking her bare feet into the folds of the gown to try to keep them warm, though she huffs a little chuckle at the tickle of Calvin's hand on one first. Formals in winter are stupid, she decides.
Her brows twitch as her head tips slightly toward Benji, inclination to let the others speak first, usually, but she jumps in to corroborate Calvin's words. "We didn't plan on it, like he said, and we didn't think there'd be a problem with it. And really, a gas station party? If you wanted us to leave, Brian, you could come up with something better than that."
Her lips twitch upward in a slight teasing smile before she sobers again. She doesn't weigh in on the topic of Eileen, but leaves that to Benji to address.
Oh he gets the Eileen part.
Thanks Nora.
Benji, apparently, has nothing to say in the immediate few seconds, dejected in his corner of the van in ragdoll crumple and gripping water bottle enough to warp the plastic inwards before he takes another lengthy sip. There's plenty left when he loosely recaps the bottle and offers it back to Brian as requested, gaze downcast in remnant sleepiness before he takes a breath that does something to square his shoulders. "I can't wait to tell Eileen all about it myself, if she's curious," he says, voice at a volume just above the engine rattling the vehicle, but no louder than that.
At least nothing exploded. He flicks another glance to Calvin, then back to Brian, swallowing once before asking, cautiously, "Did you see what happened, Mister…?" Apparently either does not know or doesn't remember Brian's last name, and can't even recall if it's one or the other.
"Oh, is that all." Brian gives a little nod to CalvKevin. "Sorry about that.. I don't know why I would even ask such a silly thing." He waves a little limpwrist, grinning as if it was such a goofy thing to be talking about. Silly past Brian, of course they were just..
"Bullshit." Brian leans forward, brows narrowed at Nora. "You knew something was going on. Don't even pretend, Nora." Changing his glareface over to Calvin mode, he gives a sharp hmph. "Inquisition if it has to be. You guys a part of this shit?" No that doesn't make sense. Why would they show up to a bombing when they sent a suicide bomber. Buut he already said it, so he has to stand behind it. But maybe he'll ask a redemptive smarter question next. Looking over to Benji, he reclaims the water with a soft murmur of thanks.
"Brian." He reminds. "I saw everything. I saw what happened and I saw what didn't happen. And this guy." The water bottle points at Calvin. "Seems to know a lot of shit. Or makes conveniently appropriate jokes in ignorance." Play with himself. Ghhhghsai. "Tell me the truth. Why were you there?"
"Don't say bullshit to her!"
Calvin gets indignant the way only people with poffy accents can, brows knit and glacial glare veered sidelong after the Brian all up in her business. Girrrl. "Why would we go to a party we intended to blow up, you fucking moron." There is no time for a redemptive smarter question because Calv is already all over the first one, treble hook to fleshy mouth with a sink and jerk in a lift of his voice to really snare the implicit idiocy in.
"I for one favor dramatic irony as an explanation for any and all conveniently appropriate witticisms."
Nora's mouth opens to protest Brian's accusations, but then Calvin interjects, defending her honor. She closes her eyes as if considering going back to sleep again. She reaches for Calvin, a slightly bloody hand on his shoulder. Hush, Calvin, that hand says, and Calvin might think it's so she can sweet talk her way back into Brian's graces.
Not so much.
"Brian, how the hell would I know about something going on at that party when I've been on an island since November 8th and I can't fucking see?" she demands, leaning forward and eyes narrowing at the inquisitor she can't see. "You knew something was going on, obviously, and I'm sorry if we didn't believe you or get what you were trying to oh-so-subtly hint at with your primal gas station party, but next time, how about you you be less subtle and tell us what the hell is going on, if you really do consider me your friend, all right? How about you tell us what it is you know? Because you're the one who is in more than one place at a time, not us, and that makes you suspicious to me. If you knew there were going to be federal agents there, and you didn't warn Abby — you want us to tell Eileen about that?"
She leans back, crossing arms defensively and glowering at him. The lack of focus surprisingly doesn't make that glare any less fierce.
Hands splay, briefly detour up to press his palms to his ears as if for real Benji is tempted to just deafen himself for the duration of the van ride somewhere in the midst of. Yapping. And he has a headache, attention retracting from the conversation echoing through the space of the van. He doesn't, evidently, have the power to disappear into smoke, phase through the floor, go invisible or otherwise teleport. He remains right where he is, before bringing his hands down again, palms pressed together.
"And what did you see?" is quiet enough and polite enough that it might get missed in argument and abuse alike.
Winters watches Calvin without much emotion gracing his features. He is very sad that Calvin caught onto his moment of stupid. But he won't let onto it. "Maybe you're stupid-er than me." As soon as it dances out of his mouth, he inwardly scowls at the new opening he's given Calvin… Again. And then Nora is yelling at him. Bllgh. He thought they were going to be the nicer sort of dodgers. They're mean question dodgers. Except in Nora's accusations and threats, Brian catches the quiet tone of Benji. Who sounds much nicer and more polite.
"I saw a man strapped with C4. I saw a crazy looking man and a hot redhead try to chase and tackle the C4 man to disarm him. I saw the men who dropped off the man with the bomb. I saw them turn their guns on themselves. I saw the.. What I think was a detonator. I saw the 'mechanical tuition… whatevers' be very mean and not tell me what to do with the detonator. I saw FBI agents coming in and going after Griffin Mihangle. I saw Griffin run. I saw myself headbutting a federal agent. I saw you three collapse outside. I saw myself helping you. I saw myself being very nice. I saw these two being very mean. And I saw Nora making empty threats with no real footing.. and she knows it. I saw Calvin get mad at bullshit. But I still saw a lot of it." With that he folds his arms over his chest. Apparently the inquisition is paused.
"Where are you guys going?" He asks gruffly.
Calvin hushes, but he does so with a sigh filtered through his sinuses, jaw sunk a bit hollow in its clamp under the elegant slope of cheekbone and eyeliner and tousled mane. He said stupid-er. He said stupid-er.
His brows don't twitch down again until the 'man' part of 'man strapped with C4' though, more dubious than critical when he looks at his shiny black shoes and then Benji's shiny black shoes, sneaking a quick look up higher than that to see what he thinks on his way to sizing Brian back up again.
"Chelsea."
Benji's soft voice quiets Nora more than any verbal reprimand would, and she instantly looks contrite for losing her temper, dark lashes dipping as she uncrosses her arms to pull her knees closer in toward her chest. She shivers at Brian's words about a man with C-4 strapped to his chest and finally heaves a sigh followed by a "Sorry," when he calls her mean.
"When are we supposed to be at the docks?" she says quietly, directed presumably to Benji, but she seems to tired to pretend to look at the proper target of her question this time.
Long fingers folding together to rest then in his lap, Benji kind of looks at Brian blankly at this report, and finally, a wrinkle of confusion developing in his brow at something in there, ice-blue eyes going unfocused. Refocus in glance to Calvin, who gets to see that Benji is just as uncertain as he is. A hand drifts up to fidget with his undone tie, which is better, at least, than biting his nails, and he looks to Nora at that question, even if she doesn't appreciate eye contact.
"Tomorrow morning," he tells her, shifting for comfort, even if he finds none. A wince accompanies movement, drawing a shaky breath in, and doesn't add his own address onto Calvin's answer. He'll go to Chelsea and figure things out from there.
"It's okay." The Brian adds in, in the back. Getting a more reasonable tone than the accusatory one he sported before. "Just when I told you, that it was dangerous. You said, you weren't in any more danger than anyone else. And you said it like you knew something. And, anyways, that's just a weird thing to say. Okay. You can dodge my questions all you want, but don't lie about that." That she said it weird? "You knew something. If you're not going to tell me, fine. We don't have to sit in this van and argue. But.. it's suspicious. Can you agree with me on that? I'm going to have to talk to Eileen." He gives a shrug, there's no way around it.
Brian's eyes dance between Calvin and Benji, though if he picks up subtle facial movements on either he does not show it. "So.. Calv or Kevin?" Winters asks softly, making himself more comfortable against the van wall. But deciding against that, he glances at Nora. "So.. Where are you guys from? Even though I know Nora.. I know like nothing about you. Except you're blind and mostly nice. And I'm very sorry you got blinded, by the way."
"New York."
Not — actually sarcastic so much as lowly, bleach bone dry, Calvin is still staring hard at Brian from beneath the cromagnon hood of his brow. The lift on his accent does not sound like it is from New York. He doesn't sound like he's from America at all, actually. Then again, he doesn't sound like he's lying, either.
Of greater concern is probably the way he levels that same blackly irritated look sideways over onto Benji. Like maybe he is beginning to have thoughts about ending the conversation on his own terms.
The teen sighs with some exasperation and shakes her dark mane of hair. "No weirder than 'oh hey check out a gas station party.' I didn't mean it like I knew anything about the party or anything that was going to happen. I just meant that you seemed like you wanted us out of there, but it was safe enough for anyone else to be there? That's all, Brian. It's nothing suspicious. I swear, okay?"
She tips her head, dark brows furrowing as she stares in his direction, then suddenly unwraps one arm from around her knees to hold out a hand for him to take. "Please, don't be mad? We can talk to Eileen, explain it to her ourselves, like Benji said. That'd probably be better for us, than having you do it like we're trying to hide something, 'cause I swear we're not."
Benji's brow knits a little at whatever silent signal he's getting from Calvin, silent otherwise to Brian's implications, passive accusations. He did, after all, say he'd just love to tell Eileen himself, and maybe it'll be a matter of who gets there first. Probably Brian haaas. Something of a head start. At Nora's invocation of this pledge, he wrenches attention from Calvin to some neutral area of van floor between the group, before shyly slanting attention to Brian with a tilt of his head.
"My friends and I have made a stir, I know, among your circle," he says, voice laced with understanding~ as he shrugs a little. "It's natural that you'd suspect the worst of us, but really…"
Brian brings his knees up, lacing his arms around them. Leaning forward, his chin goes to settle on his kneecaps. An exasperated breath is let out as Brian sounds like he is trying to decide what to say next. A breath as if about to start on a rampage and then an exhalation, forgetting that piece. Finally he gives an interlude of silence, eyes going to the van floor.
"Okay. Sorry." He lets out biting down on his lower lip. "Sorry.. Sometimes.. Living like this can make you paranoid. When you do stuff like I do.. Like the others do. It's kind of hard to believe strangers like you used to." He drops his hands drumming on the van silently. "Sorry." He adds in again, voice a little more downcast this time. "So… You guys have a good time?"
Brian brings his knees up, lacing his arms around them. Leaning forward, his chin goes to settle on his kneecaps. An exasperated breath is let out as Brian sounds like he is trying to decide what to say next. A breath as if about to start on a rampage and then an exhalation, forgetting that piece. Finally he gives an interlude of silence, eyes going to the van floor.
"Okay. Sorry." He lets out biting down on his lower lip. "Sorry.. Sometimes.. Living like this can make you paranoid. When you do stuff like I do.. Like the others do. It's kind of hard to believe strangers like you used to." He drops his hands drumming on the van silently. "Sorry." He adds in again, voice a little more downcast this time. "So… You guys have a good time?"
Benji looks away, leaving Calvin to rake his glare back to Brian before levering a less speculative look over onto Nora next to him. Searching, thinking. Considering.
Weighing.
In the end he's left to smother a frustrated rankle at his nose into a poorly orchestrated scrub of his hand, as if after an itch instead of his temper.
"Speaking of 'believing strangers,' who is 'Eileen' and why do we give half a shit what she thinks about what you think?"
Nora drops her outstretched hand when it's not taken, frowning just a little before pulling it back and once more around her knees. She lets her head rock back against the wall of the van, eyes closing. "I think we're all a little paranoid," she says quietly. "With good reason. And I guess we should have been more paranoid. You're right. It was dumb of us."
Her hand comes up to her face, fingertips grazing the cut on her cheek, and she exhales, a soft chuckle. "Smashing good time. So exciting I fell asleep."
"Calvin," is sighed out from Benji's corner, but the question is not directed towards him and in turn, his interjection isn't particularly sharp or preventative. There's even a small shrug ready for anyone who might happen to look his way for more words, as he provides none, just swings his attention away from people generally and climbs his gaze up the gap between backdoors.
"Ask them." Brian bobs his chin over towards Nora and Benji. Looks like no one wants to talk about Eileen. His eyes dip down to the hand withdrawing and folding back around her knees. Ops. Leaning forward, his hand goes to reach and give hers a small squeeze. "Sorry. Didn't see you there. It's dark." Then he's leaning back, hugging his own knees once again.
Glancing from Benji back to Calvin, his head tosses back. Small talk is hard because Calvin always answers first. And doesn't ask questions back, which really, doesn't get a conversation anywhere. "So.. What do you do, Calvin? How do you three know each other?"
The look Calvin gives Benji at Brian's redirection is convincingly two parts suspicion to one part perplexion, like maybe he isn't sure he wants to be aware of whatever extra level of mysterious bullshit happens to be going on here. Multiple Men in dark vans, fugitives and suicide bombers. Oh my.
Except that he doesn't seem to like Brian. And as much as he likes lying, increasingly he dislikes Brian more than he likes lying and the resultant deficit is the source of a bristle setting tension into his shoulders like slag cooling into harder-edged glass, glittery-tux taut from collar to hem. "Benjamen~," he echoes back, then. Finally. Mock polite in his recognition of never-quite-reprimand.
"I'm a mailman."
He tells Brian, looking him dead in the eye.
"I deliver their mail."
The brunette girl nods to Brian her forgiveness for his oversight, but then curls back inward, quiet as she listens — the conversation is pointed toward Calvin, so she lets him answer it. Nora shivers again and focuses on uncapping her water bottle to take a long drink, the only audible contribution on her part to the conversation the crinkle of the plastic in her hand.
There's a wry tilt of a look from Benji to Brian, like, do you really want me to explain Eileen to this guy, but it doesn't get verbalised. The conversation being traded from one corner of the van to the other is proving to make him tenser, visible in the sit of his shoulders and the picking at of slightly ragged fingernails. Calvin's response gets a small snort, actual if weary amusement as opposed to passive aggressive sighs~ this time.
"We're friends," Benji corrects, with only a slightly edged tone to this claim, like Calvin miiight be pushing the boundaries of what constitutes of friendship through being irritating alone. Or Benji might be too, for that matter.
"You're hilarious."
Eyes shifting from Calvin to Nora then to Benji. He glances back down at the floor of the van. "You're really fun to drive with Calvin." Winters glances to the front of the van to look out the windshield. It's not that he wants to see where they are, the Brian in the drivers seat can already see that. It's just somewhere to look that is away from the asshat mailman.
"Ever bring a gun to work?" He asks, sounding more conversational now. "Are you.. disgruntled?"
Thank God they're almost to Chelsea.
"Oh, I'm so glad you think so. …Brian, was it?" Calvin's brows twitch up into open inquiry, faux pleasant again, while the worst of his attitude malfunction works itself out in a push of his spine against the the van's creaky flank.
"Thanks for saving us, by the way." He flicks something at Benji that looks suspiciously like a french fry he found on the van floor, left hand creeping to warm itself around Nora's foot once more. "And I like your outfit. Very GI Joe. Who is it that you work for, again?"
The urge to ask are we there yet is suppressed by Nora and she shivers a little at that cold hand around her cold foot. "He does mean that, Brian, even if he doesn't sound very sincere," she offers, as if used to apologizing on Calvin's behalf.
"We are appreciative of your help. I'm sorry I sniped at you, okay? Thanks for getting us out of there. It means a lot. And I owe you. We owe you. I'll do like fifty hours of community service with your kids or something, okay? Not that I'd be the best babysitter," she offers. "Just… you know. Don't be mad, don't … don't think we're bad people." She actually sounds like she might cry.
Tossed french fry mostly just gets feline recoil, a subtle sink into the corner he's already sunken into. "Acerbic sense of humour is Calvin's superpower," Benji says, voice going to that quiet and slightly whimsical tone he does when he sinks to the level of mockery, and he presses a smile Brian's way. "Until he gets a real one. Please don't mind him, or us, for that matter. It's been a difficult night." He switches a sympathetic glance Nora's way, looking like he might say something to her as well.
Ultimately doesn't. They have a whole boat ride for hugs and reassurance, and Benji isn't going to. Horn in on Calvin's territory, apparently. He also allows Nora's apology to stand without adding to it himself, gaze ducking for the front of the van as if he could tell the neighbourhood from here.
"I'm a bodyguard for celebrities. Like Richard Hatch." Watching the stale fry fly over at Benji, Brian bites down on his lip for a moment. A slow breath exhales as Nora speaks. "It's okay." He shakes his head. "You don't owe me. Don't worry about it. I don't think you're a bad person." Calvin is not included in this statement. He probably is a bad person. "Oh is that is superpower?" Brian asks as if he had thought contrary.
Glancing back to Calvin, he smiles pleasantly. "Thank you." His lips purse as if he is about to say something else. But he decides not to. This is the longest van ride ever…
Calvin says, "You're welcome."
He says it nicely enough that there may be cause for concern, even if he seems to have become very interested in something black in the carpet. Perhaps conspicuously, he does not think to rise to Benji's bait, breathing in and out slower than before, even. Very zen.
Several minutes pass in silence, during which time Cal/Calv/Kevin begins to pay attention to where they are at through the front windshield. After a time, he announces that, "This will do."
Nora's lips quirk in a half smile at Benji's words about Calvin's super power, but she doesn't add anything to the conversation. When Calvin says they've arrived, she unwraps her arms from her knees, preparing to stand and evacuate the van once it stops. One hand moves to seek Calvin's so he can help her out of the car, fingers tracing over the rag wrapped around it, a slight scowl coloring her features.
Among the last to get to his feet when the van winds to its halt, Benji's ascent is slow, woozy and cautious, attempting not to reopen shallow cuts and add more crimson to his otherwise penguin colour scheme, a hand wandering along van wall and the other pressed to his side. "Nora and I will see you— back across the river, soon?" is a slightly lame attempt at code words, directed to Brian, but probably oblique enough that if Calvin had no idea, then he still would have no idea, when it comes to the mysterious island some few hours noth. Otherwise, Benji willingly follows people out into the cold, feet crunching errant shards of glass that tumbled free to the floor of the vehicle, from clothing, hair, shallow cuts alike.
Crouching at the back of the van, placing his arms along his knees the young man watches them depart. "See you back across the river." Brushing his arm at an itchy spot at his stubble, his eyes train on Calvin for a moment. He's going to have to follow and stalk that weirdo. Or all of them.. But with the amount of exertion he has put into his ability tonight… He's going to need to rest. So only one person gets a tail. And Brian pins the tail on Calvin. "Have a good night guys."
With glass still audibly a-crunch underfoot, Calvin does the irritatingly genteel thing and sweeps Nora up off her feet rather than simply steer her off the back of the van like a pallet of particularly sensitive tomatoes. He says, "Upsie daisy," when he does it, too. Either to aggravate her further or to disarm aggravation. His intent is as difficult to decipher as ever.
In any case he sets her down with a retarded little twirl once they're scarcely a few feet away from the danger jaggedy bits of glass pose to bare feet, keys jangled in his pocket and bandaged hand lifted raised in exaggerated fairwell as he leads the way 'round the corner for his building. Ignorant of any significance living across a river might involve.
Tonight, they're all going to the same shabby apartment. So they all get the tail.
Meanwhile, it's queerly convenient that Calvin requested that they stop at the peak of a slight incline given that the van Brian is driving is soon to have a serious malfunction in the brake system. And not because the lines have been cut.
But because they aren't there at all.
Pulling off, the doors go to shut as the trio make their departure from the van. The Brian in the back brings up a weary hand to scrub at his face. Going to grab the discarded water bottle, he takes a swig. The van hummin along nicely, he slides to the front of the vehicle, searching through one of the bags G.I Joe Brian is quickly, albeit tiredly getting changed.
Turning the corner, Brian dons a hoody over his white shirt. The pants and boots remain. Though a smaller weapon is added to the outfit this time. Sliding forward his hand reaches out to give driver Brian a little pat on the shoulder. Driver Brian does not react at all, but the pair of them adopt a funny look at the same time.
Right about the time Driver Brian tries to stop the car to allow the other to hop out. But the car doesn't stop.
o wtf
Scowling Brian looks up ahead. He took that turn a little fast, and there is a parking lot coming up. Fff. What to do, what to do. Glancing at each other there is a unified shrug before the two are both abandoning their posts and heading to the back of the van. Grabbing the duffle bags of weapons and clothes that they had left in the back. Going to swing the two doors open, the pair of Brian's fling themselves out as the van goes careening forward.
As Calvin, Nora, and Benji make their way to the shabby apartment. They will hear the satisfying sound of a loud crash.. and then a couple of car alarms going off.
Just outside the outer door, Calvin pauses at the sound of the crash, brow hooded and frown on the less interested side of curious. When no screaming or further screeching of tires seems forthcoming, he turns to finish going on in, holding the door open for Benji and Nora on the way. As people do.
Having spent the past few weeks in darkness, Nora's sense of hearing is all the stronger for her lack of sight. So she hears that crash and those alarms, tipping her head with curiosity.
Very mild curiosity.
"I'm hungry… do you have any more of those Flaming Hot Cheetos?" she asks with a yawn.
Benji's trudging towards the door is halted at the sound of the crash and subsequent wailing alarms. He doesn't even look, just kind of blinks into the entrance of the apartment building, seems to make a judgment call about how much patience he has for the night. Not very much. Mouth twists, and there's a look towards Calvin that might have led towards flapping slaps about Calvin's head and chest, but the mild curiousity crinkling Calvin's brow and Nora's question reminds him that. You know.
Not all problems are Benji's, and not everything in the world must be the other guy's fault, or anyone's. Necessarily. Going to the ball, conveniently timed gunshot, antagonistic bickering all aside. Benji takes an audible breath in, fingers splaying and relaxing, before continuing on inside.
Grabbing his own face.. But not his face, Brian leans forward to inspect the cut on his other forehead. The two frown in unison. But it's not that bad of a cut. And so the pair of one person help each other up albeit weakly. Already exhausted, one of them has to go stare at a crappy apartment all night and the other has to start a curfew dodging hike across the City.
It's a shitty Christmas eve for anybody. Hauling up the duffle bags on his shoulders, Driver Brian gives the other a pat on the shoulder before looking back at the van. He could go try to scratch off the VIN number and take the plates… Or he could just let Richard Cardinal have a headache with the police trying to explain an abandoned van on top of a couple other cars..
Surveillance Brian makes his way off the street and towards the apartment. Indecision Brian stares at the wreck another few moments. Letting out a long sigh.
"God damnit."