mayfield_rpg | [ order 8 ]

[ Home - Midday ]

[After hovering uncomfortably close to death for much of the past week, confined to bed in misery, Integra awoke feeling warm and alert. Her skin has lost its ashen appearance, warm tan once more and bearing no signs of the surgery she'd been put through. She stumbles over the hound on the way to the bathroom, lifting her shirt (Giles's, actually) to the mirror once there to stare at herself. Integra does a turn. Not a mark.

Flooded with relief, she's spent her morning making the most of it, showering and putting things to right throughout the house with ruthless efficiency. It's only until close to lunch that she emerges to check the mail, comfortably dressed in a coat, black cigarette pants and a fitted indigo jumper, acquiescing to the town's wardrobe options since everything else is in the wash.

The black, 2000 Mercedes sedan parked in the drive affords her a head turn.]

Yes! [She throws her fist into the air, triumphant. Today is going better than expected.]

[ Mayfield - On the road - Afternoon ]

[Integra's left for a drive now that she has the car. Baskerville sits in the passenger seat to her left, all eight eyes squinting against the wind and his pink tongue lolling out of his wide mouth. She's all for following traffic laws, at least until she's near the end of town at the entrance to the highway. After that the road is hers for the taking.]

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[Yeah, Rider's already out inspecting the car himself. He's pretty impressed.]

Assuming this is yours! Not bad. Not bad at all...

[A little more sedate as she ambles over, her smile no less broad, Integra raps her knuckles on the hood.]

'Not bad'? It's practically a tank. We had damn well near a fleet of them armored to our specifications. This can withstand hits from automatic weapons, rocket-propelled grenades, pipe bombs...

[Integra, you're stroking the car. She seems to remember she's carrying the mail, and sure enough there's an envelope with her name on it.]

Ohhh... interesting...

Where can I get one?[Or eight. Or eighty.]

[Integra jangles the keys.]

If you're very very good, maybe they'll give me another. Or a helicopter, if they're taking requests.

Up for a drive?

Ha! I'd love to see this baby in action.

[Rider gives the car a good pat. And feeling a little ride envy, but hey, it's technically his now too. Technically.]

I'll take that as a challenge! [Giving the ring a spin, she opens the door and settles into the driver's seat on the right side, popping the lock for him. Baskerville watches from the front walk, a giant mound of black fur laying out in the late winter sun.

The engine purrs as she gives the ignition a turn, Integra sighing deeply in response. Her long fingers play over the steering wheel, the leather warm beneath her touch. Forget the retro clunker in the garage, this is a car.]

[Here's Crowley crossing the street with his hands in his pockets and bright white feathered wings on his back.]

[Integra slows appropriately to let him cross, watching the man with no small amount of interest. Raised in the Anglican faith, there are very few other beings that spring to mind when one sees wings on a person.

The Hellhound in the seat next to her is a little more loud in his interest. Baskerville throws his head back, baying to the sky and grinning a mad, doggy grin.]

[He hadn't been paying much attention to the nice car with the dog poking his head out of the window until the dog makes a loud noise. Crowley looks at the dog for a good five seconds before recognition kicks in.]

Blimey, is that a hellhound?

[Waiting at the stop sign, she hears Crowley over the sound of the engine and offers him a nod, rolling down her window further. Baskerville sneezes, his fluffy tail wagging.]

Good eye. And what are you then? Angel? [After taking in his attire] Fallen angel?

[He steps over to give the hound a pet.]

The latter. Though typically it's not so easy to tell.

[Baskerville luxuriates in the attention, nosing Crowley's hand like he's met an old, dear friend.]

Yes, the wings are something of a giveaway.

[After a pause,] Have I seen you before? In town, that is...

[He shrugs, scritching behind the hellhound's ears.]

Perhaps. Have you seen an old Bentley around town?

[Mart's just coming back from school when.

OH YES. AWESOME CAR IS AWESOME.

He'll immediately go to the 2000 Mercedes to inspect it.]

[Integra peeps over the hood, having had a quick check of the undercarriage for any noticeable flaws in the armor. She waves at her not!son and dusts her knees off as she stands.]

One of mine from home. They've left the weapons racks empty, but I think we can fill them out nicely in the meantime.

[The car is a four door and sleekly designed, ink black with accents in chrome. There's a small communications display in the backseat, utterly useless in a town where not even the radios work.]

Sweet! Guess we can't drive around here without packing, anyhow.

[He walks up to her, eyes wide in joy.]

Can I drive it?

Preferably not. [Dryly, as she opens the driver's side door to examine the center console. She'll need to mount a rack for the shotgun here, and...

Wait.]

I apologize for not knowing earlier, but do you even know how to drive?

Aw come on, you can trust me!

And yeah I do. I drove my friend's hover car all the time back home

[Through walls, into other vehicles, into a lake...]

[Integra pushes her hair back over her shoulder, shaking her head at Mart.]

It will be best to start once more with the basics then. We can begin next weekend, barring any unforeseen events the town might throw at us.

Edited 2012-02-15 02:57 (UTC)

Sweet!

So you'll let me drive!

That's the eventual plan, yes. We'll use the family car first though. [A nod at the 50's steel death trap in the garage,]

Better that you learn on a car without all of the more modern accoutrements.

Aw, come on. I already know how to drive. You can totally trust me with your car of Badassdom.

[Integra isn't the only one happy to see the car, though Equius's interest stems from a completely different place.]

[It is, simply put, a gorgeous piece of machinery, and he is torn between wanting to take it apart to see how it works, and rubbing his body all over it.]

[He restrains to simply sitting and staring at it longingly.]

[Baskerville notices Equius first, as Integra is presently fiddling with the radio on the backseat, white noise the pervading sound.

The huge hound makes a noise somewhere between a growl and a groan, rolling onto his back. She leans out to see, an unlit cigarette dangling between her lips.]

Can I help you?

[Just going to eye the dog with a slight bit of mistrust there. He's had bad experiences with dogs]

[Then he directs his attention back to Integra]

I'm just admiring your motor vehicle. I have a great fondness for machinery, and yours is rather... handsome.

[ order 8 ]

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Roooooad

/resisting urge to make 'chicken crossing the road' jokes

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Outside House

Outside House

Re: Outside House

Outside House

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