synanthrope | (no subject)

(no subject)

I hope everyone had a satisfactory Halloween. It's never been a holiday I celebrated beyond the age of fifteen, but people certainly seemed like they were getting into character.

That is the phrase, isn't it? Although I never understood the lure of some costumes. Although I have to commend you, City, for not having a someone dress up as a werewolf where the impressionables could see it. ~~And myself.~~

At any rate. I've examined the Garage from tip to bottom, and decided that it's in fine condition, if a little bit dusty. Is anyone looking for a job? I would prefer you at least know the difference between a diesel engine and a gas turbine engine, but if I have to teach you, I suppose it's entirely possible.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

FOUNTAIN?

Yes, that will do.

WHEN?

Are you busy today?

WASH CLOTHES. DO DISHES. HARASS FRIENDS. THAT'S IT.

Meet me at three, then.

THREE. GOT IT.

[Saya is waiting at the fountain, sitting on a bench, her legs crossed. She's wearing something ridiculously fashionable and sleek; heavily tailored. And extremely high heels]

[ The fact that he recognizes the way she dresses from his dream makes Mouse a little uncomfortable. But he puffs himself up anyway (as teenage boys are want to do) and comes to stand in front of her, awkward in his clothes a size too big. His sleeves are pulled over his hands and the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head. He waves at her, but doesn't say hi. ]

[She stands and gives him the briefest of nods]

Follow me, then.

[And she leads him to a Porsche. Saya would walk but she loves her car far too much.]

[ When Mouse sees the car, he stops short and then wolf whistles -- low and loud. ]

Saya. Geez.

[She pauses]

This isn't a problem, is it? We have two more luxury cars in the garage.

[ He gives a face that asks silently if she's an insane woman. Incredulously, he points at her and can't help but blurt out: ]

Just got hotter.

[She raises an eyebrow and nods]

Are going to get in or not?

[ Even though it's not necessary, Mouse covers his hands with his sleeves before letting himself into the car. Once inside, he gives another whistle. ]

[She slips it into gear and drives. It's only about a ten minute drive to the garage, but it's definitely pleasant. The engine makes a low, low purring]

Have you ever ridden in a Porsche before?

[ Mouse puts both of his hands on the dash and sort of laughs when he feels the car hum away under his fingertips. Silently, he shakes his head. ]

Toyota truck. Volvo. Mustang.

Toyota. You might as well put an engine on a push-cart.

[ Mouse snorts and then mimics the sound of the Toyota's engine. A congested grumble punctuated by hiccups and coughs. ]

[And her smile widens, just a touch]

Something like that.

[She pulls into the garage, the door opening when the sleek car approaches. Everything is orderly, but there is dust and rust in places, too]

[ With a certain lack of grace, Mouse stumbles out of the car and into the garage. He makes a point not to touch anything, but his eyes move back and forth quickly in attempt to take everything in. ]

All yours?

That's what I've been told.

[ Mouse turns to look at her and gives her an odd face, like she's just said something either stupid or crazy. ]

Don't know?

Don't remember everything.

[ Mouse mumbles something that may or may not have been the word 'weird'. ]

Back home. Cars too?

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