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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Jun 4, 2012 14:54:14 GMT -5
 Altair didn’t like to wonder what the people she worked for would think of how she spent her spare time. Honestly, she didn’t care about their opinions, even if those opinions could have her fired. Her diet did not fit in with what they wanted from a petite forty-nine kilogram model, but she said fuck it, she’d was eating this burger and she was going to enjoy it. And she didn’t speak as politely as she could, but she knew that they would still want her. Modelling was the business of selling skin, and she knew how to sell. She also knew how to buy, which is what she did more and more of now. Not just the clothes and whatever she could get her hands on (because she loved the feeling, the power of knowing she could have the world with just a piece of plstic), but the drugs. She’d replaed the Vicodin with everything she could. She guessed she’d always been doing it, finding replacements, finding things to stuff in the hole that the perscriptions had left behind. And all her dealer had to ask was what she’d be willing to do for a tenner, because he knew she’d be willing to do a lot. If it was good, of course. She wasn’t going to waste her time on a crappy dime. At least it was good for parties like this, no matter how cheap and shitty it was.
She had settled into a little niche at the side of the house, half-listening to the music inside. It was a pleasant day for winter, only the leftover memories of snow still on the ground. She was careful not to dirty up her jeans, they were epensive as shit. Everything on her was expensive, of course. People came out for some fresh air, some she recognized, some she didn’t. Altair had a rather vast circle of friends, but only because she didn’t really consider them friends in the strictest of senses. She talked to them, and therefore they were friends. That was about all it took with her. It was surprising that she could have people she was on good terms with, but it wasn’t like they got anything different or special from her. The same old Altair, wearing her same old heels and the same old designer clothes. The only one who got the good parts was Rowena, and that was something that siblings had over years of knowing each other. They were familiar with every quirk, every habit, every little thing about the other, so it wasn’t like they could hide anything. Even though Altair didn’t hide, what you saw was what you got. ”It’s fucking three o’ clock already,” she mumbled to her companion when she checked to see if Ro had called, scratching the back of her head before leaning her back against the wall again.
She held the spliff between her fingers, not really paying much attention to anything at this point. She didn’t have much of an attention span to behind with, and it had gotten progressively worse over the night. Altair didn’t have a habit of being spacey, however, so she always pretended like she’d been paying attention the entire time when in a conversation. It usually worked unless somebody did something to prove her wrong. Putting it between her lips, she held it in before exhaling, laughing a little as she did so. Luckily she was way passed the coughing deal. She hated looking like she didn’t know what she was doing. Eyes scanning the cars parked outside, she lifted a snowy white eyebrow. With the back of her hand, she thumped Hunter on the arm several times, beause just once was not enough to get his attention. ”Yo, fuck, that’s an Impala,” Altair said, pointing to the car in question. ”Who the hell’s is that?” she pondered. She hated her car, absolutely loathed it. All she wanted was her pretty Ducati back, and for the sake of spending, she was tempted to do it whenever she thought of her old bike. Then common sense reminded her that she had responsibilities now. She was an adult with a little—by a few minutes—sister living with her. Sometimes she needed to get her head in the game.
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Post by OWEN HUNTER ZE'V on Jun 5, 2012 15:47:26 GMT -5
Hunter stood beside Altair with a cigarette in his mouth. He'd been at this party long enough to be wasted on shitty weed and cheap beer, but as long as it got him where he needed to be, it was all that mattered. After all, he didn't expect people to share quality drugs with him at places like this. It wasn't why he came, anyway. He knew it'd take longer to get crunk on the things he'd find at parties, but that meant that he had more time to spend on the prowl for girls to sleep with or other fun to have. After all, it was hard to flirt after a certain point in inebriation, and Hunter could hit it fast on the good stuff. On good drugs, Hunter would either be one of those statues that never left the couch, or he'd be stumbling around mindlessly. It wasn't fun. The thing with drugs was that you had to know your limit. The trouble with Hunter was that he didn't. He never got the hang of rationing his hits, and he liked holding them in longer than they should. He liked finishing several bottles of beer before waiting for an effect. Everything was more fun that way. He looked cooler, too. He may have looked stupid when he was fucked up later in the night, but so was everyone else, and that left him judgement free. It was all about the image. If he didn't look cool, people wouldn't look at him, and that would leave him crestfallen.
Altair mentioned the time as Hunter was taking a drag of his cigarette, and he just looked her over with his eyebrow raised. He exhaled, and looked down at the cig in his hands. "What? Need to be somewhere?" he asked in a slightly slurred tone. He was decent at keeping his voice understandable, even while everything was completely impaired. It was three. There wasn't anywhere to be unless she had some kind of ridiculous curfew. Even Hunter didn't have that, and he was living with his parents for the most part. He wondered if they even knew he was out. Or what he did in his free time. He kind of faded into the background of their lives, only really coming around when he needed money for something, and they didn't even pay much attention to that. Which was why fueling a casual drug habit was just so easy for him.
He must have zoned out for a moment while thinking of his family, because the next thing he knew, Altair was hitting his arm. He was thankful that she was getting his attention before speaking, because otherwise he probably wouldn't have processed that information at all, both due to a short attention span and heavy intoxication. He looked at the car in front of them, and back at Altair. "I'm gonna guess someone in there," he stated, motioning back to the house. He hadn't seen it around the other parties he'd been to, so it wasn't one of the usual party kids. He took another drag of his cigarette, walking slowly over to the car, making sure to walk in as straight a line as he could. "Come on, let's check it out."
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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Jun 5, 2012 20:35:11 GMT -5
Smoke had never bothered her. It would be pretty hard to deal with the people she was around if it did. It'd be hard to even live with her sister. She had quite the addiction to nicotine, but she was trying to chew gum instead. She didn't want her teeth to go to shit just because she liked to smoke a pack a day. Of course, it wasn't that easy. He drawled out a reply to her words, how smashed he was evident in his voice. She rolled her own bright eyes. "Yeah, on your mother like every other shithead in this town," she retorted shortly, her usual smooth British accent afflicted with her own high. She was not mad. You knew when Altair was mad, because you would be pinned against the wall saying hello to her fist about five times. Altair didn't fuck around, even when she was flying high. Her tolerance may have gotten better with people, but she was still herself. Some things could never change, even if she tried. And she tried with a few habits. Others she didn't think she needed to do anything about, because she never changed for anyone.
Altair looked around again. She had this really terrible habit of getting distracted, even worse when she was buzzed. She really shouldn't get behind the wheel of anything when like this, but she always claimed to be the best drunk driver. The kind of driver that knew she was fucked, but she could handle herself because she needed to get her car home. "And you know, I actually have a job. Go fucking figure." She could wake up bright and early no matter what, though. Even if she went to bed at six today, she'd be up by nine making coffee, her mind working as efficiently as ever. Just take a few aspirin and she'd be ready for the day. Her eyes doing the sweep over again found that car. It was unfamiliar to her, and therefore it caught her interest. Who would be driving a car like that around here? She stood up, using the wall as support so she was more or less sliding up the wall, snuffing out the blunt and tucking it behind her ear. "Too dark to tell," she muttered, but she was interested to see who it was who might be behind the wheel. She didn't think they'd be from the Academy, either. Huh. She was pretty much stumped, and the buzz was encouraging her in things.
Hunter drew on his cigarette and she followed as he made his way over. She was bored and reckless. Not a good combination. And though sh wasn't influenced by those around her, Hunter's idea sounded pretty damn good to her. The Fire girl rapped against the window with her knuckles and the car window rolled down, smoke practically billowing out. She squinted as she leaned into the window, staring at the guy behind the wheel. "Where you from?" she asked, and he shrugged. "Town. Sup?" She grinned, showing off her bright white teeth. "I was just admiring your wheels." In leaning forward a bit more, she was showing off the dip of her cleavage. "Mind if I take a look? I've always wanted to know what it's like behind the wheel." He looked down with bloodshot eyes, scanning until he met her face again and slipped out of the car. She got in and he held his hand on the open door. She looked at Hunter, intent clear in her eyes and waited for him to get in as she cooed over the feeling of the seats. Then, she turned the key in the ignition, put the car in reverse, and backed away. "Whoa, what the fuck!" the guy shouted and she simply closed the door, cackling. "Fucking sucker," she said. "Yo, where should we go?" she asked her fellow Fire. They had a fucking Impala, they could go anywhere.
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Post by OWEN HUNTER ZE'V on Jun 6, 2012 18:19:54 GMT -5
Hunter sneered. He probably would have rolled his own eyes as well, but it would have given him an instant headache. After all, he was wasted. His eyes couldn't process at their normal rate, and a fast motion would probably lead to his head exploding. "You're so fucking clever. A joke about my mom. Wow," Hunter laughed. Jokes about sleeping with someone's mom were so old. It was ridiculous. Altair usually had a wit about her, so Hunter was really kind of disappointed. If there was going to be some kind of snappy comeback, he at least wanted it to be something interesting. It was funny, most people didn't like how mean Altair was to people, but Hunter didn't mind at all. Really, it was a hell of a lot easier than playing nice with people all the time. He admired how honestly she seemed to act, while he himself was more or less a facade upon a facade upon a facade. He was a liar by nature at this point, but he could be honest with people like Altair. People who seemed to treat life the way that he did.
Hunter laughed when Altair said she had a job. He was happy to say that he never worked a day in his life. He probably never would, either. He'd find a way to make money off of his power, or at least live off of his parents' money. They were growing richer and richer, and he definitely wanted to take as much of that wealth for himself as he could. "So your job's on my mom?" he asked. God he was high. If he was sober, there would have been something sarcastic, or at least intelligent. But he was sluggish, and his mind was moving slowly. That's what made talking so fun though. Everything was just so much more entertaining this way.
Hunter watched his fellow fire student talk to the guy in the car with a sort of expertise that showed that she was used to talking people into doing what she wanted often. He could relate, though nothing came that easy for him. It didn't matter though. Conversations were all part of the game for him. Luckily, Hunter was watching with enough intent that he understood immediately when Altair gave him a look. They were going to steal a car. That was so cool. He smirked and got in the passenger seat. "Let's go get some good booze and go somewhere like the cliffs or some woods or something. That guy seemed pissed. The cops'll probably be looking for us soon, so we should get outa town." It wasn't the most fun, but it was the most jail-free adventure they could have at the moment. Hunter didn't want to get arrested, and he was a minor. He couldn't imagine the kind of shit that Altair might get in for grand theft auto. He didn't care much for minor consequences, but that one was kind of extreme, and seemed pretty avoidable. He just hoped that there was no tracking device in the car. If there was, they'd be so fucked.
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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Jun 6, 2012 20:01:53 GMT -5
At this point, Altair didn't care about cleverness. She was as distracted as a kangaroo looking around for a threat. The girl wasn't paranoid, simply jumpy and excitable when like this. She didn't have much control over it. His laugh made her pull back and look up as if it had come out of nowhere. But she snorted when he spoke, then laughed like it was the most hilarious thing she'd ever heard. Usually she only laughed like that around her sister, because Rowena was the one with the best jokes. She always found the girl's deadpan expressions entertaining, especially when she was breaking balls. "No, bro, that's for fun," she replied, hand against the wall. She didn't sell herself anymore, not in the way she used to. Did she miss it? Not really. It was a job, sex was like work, and that was that. She didn't know much about Hunter, though, because she never thought to ask. She didn't reach out to people and take an interest in their lives. They did what they liked and she minded her own damn business.
Even though she had gotten out of the lifestyle of a working girl, she still had the same skills. People loved a pretty face, a few well-placed words. Manipulation was in the subtlety, and it was astounding that the Fire leader understood such a thing. Especially when fucked out of her mind. And the end result of such manipulation? Fantastic. She felt the adrenaline pull through her veins, creating an delicious electricity in her body. She drove surprisingly smoothly, admiring the interior of the thing. "Booze it is," she said, heading toward the nearest twenty-four hour place. They probably should be heading as far away as possible, and that made her grin. She brushed a few blond strands of hair away from her face, before glancing at her passenger and partner-in-crime. "Let's take the highway. There's nothing around this godforsaken place." Maple Hollow was literally in the middle of nowhere, and for a purpose. It had been made for elementals, but soon turned into a community for everyone. She paid enough attention in class to know this.
She stepped on the gas and went in to buy a case of beer, more illegality to tack onto her list for the night. Ironically, she wasn't thinking of how it was a crime. She was just having fun. Getting back in the car, she dropped the case on Hunter's lap. "Balling so hard, motherfuckers wanna find us," she sing-songed as she found her way to the road leading out of town, taking a beer from the case. She was lucid enough to keep an eye out for the popo. "How long do you fancy it'll take, huh?" she questioned excitedly, eyes glittering like stones. She should have been more worried about that, especially considering the reason she had left Great Britain. "For them to find us, I mean? Hopefully not until like...nighttime." It would be a bummer if their party was crashed too soon. Hopefully the guy was too out of his mind to get it together for a while. She turned on the heat, holding her hand against the vent. "We can live like outlaws, man. Bonnie and Clyde." With a better ending, of course. That was a lot more fun than getting shot to death in a stand-off. Though it was a badass way to go out.
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Post by OWEN HUNTER ZE'V on Jun 9, 2012 7:59:28 GMT -5
Hunter grinned. There was the kind of wit that he was expecting. The joke about his mom was awful, but she made up for it now with this reply. "I promise, you can do better," he stated with a smirk. His mom wasn't really attractive, and that wasn't just his aversion to sexualizing his parents talking. She was not a milf by any stretch of the word, and while Altair was clearly joking, she could have much more attractive suitors. With her looks, she could probably get anyone in town. Hunter wished that he was so lucky. All of his piercings had gotten in the way of that. He still thought he was attractive, but he had an edgy, alternative look that turned people off a good deal of the time. That's where his wit and a little coercion came into play. After all, Hunter wasn't one to give up anything without a fight.
As they rolled up to the liquor store, Hunter was taking the last drag of his cigarette. It was a shame, because now he was losing badass points. Car thieves should always have a cig in their mouth. After all, smoking made you cool. And there was nothing more important than looking cool when committing a crime. If they got arrested, Hunter would have to get a mugshot like Frank Sinatra did for his DUI back before he got famous. The fearless look on his face was wonderful, and Hunter just hoped that he could match it. Altair was right about the fact that there was nothing for them to do in town. He grew up here, and that meant that he was dying to get out as quickly as possible. All he wanted to do was go on adventures, and he'd pretty much bled the town dry of all fun to be had. Maybe he just needed better friends. He made a note to hang out with Altair more if they weren't incarcerated for this.
The girl got back to the car, and threw some beer in Hunter's lap. He wasted no time in taking one out of the case and drinking up. Hunter merely shrugged when asked about how long it'd take to find them. "Dunno. Let's hope they don't," he stated. God, that was wishful thinking. Maybe they could make it seem like they hadn't committed a crime. Was it still theft if the guy let them in the car with the keys in the ignition? It shouldn't be, because that would be stupid. Could they swing it to sound like they were test driving? Probably not if they were skipping town. What a shame. But if Hunter was going to get arrested, Altair seemed like the best person to go down with. Hunter laughed at the girl's insistence that they could live like the most notorious criminal couple in American history. "Bonnie and Clyde were fucking," he replied with a smirk. He wasn't saying that living like outlaws wouldn't be fun, but the analogy just didn't make sense to him. He took a sip of his beer and watched Altair drive. She seemed really excited. Which was great, seeing as if they were bored while committing a crime, there was no point to doing it at all.
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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Jun 10, 2012 16:09:02 GMT -5
Altair was thinking about the shit they could get up to, excited for it. She'd been in Maple Hollow for about two years, not going anywhere else. It might change soon if she had to do a shoot in a different country, but so far the only place she'd gotten to was Vancouver. "We can come up with an alibi," she said, peaking at Hunter from the corner of her eye and only seeing the tip of the cigarette. "We were actually at home on the date of the crime. Baking cookies and shit." Because that was as far from grand theft auto as you could get. And hey, she bet her sister would lie for her. They lied for each other, Altair and Syria sacrificed everything for her. Not like they had much back home to begin with. "That's a real shame, because Bonnie was ugly as fuck," she said, shaking her head. She wasn't that ugly, but Altair had high standards. Maybe the film back then was unflattering, but honestly she wasn't the best looking woman out there. "I make a better Bonnie. Shag better than her, too." What would Clyde have even wanted with that anyway? Maybe she was putting just a little too much thought into the lives of two dead people.
She tapped her foot on the accelerator and the car sped up. Why not commit some more crimes, anyway? She lived life large and exciting, and she wanted this car to go as fast as it can. That way she could feel like a bat outta hell, leaving this place behind. She liked the idea of that, just leaving. But she had Rowena there, Rowena who she needed to take care of. She was the eldest, after all. Always the eldest, even if one sister was no longer with them. She stared at the road and said, "Check the glove compartment to see if there's maps or anything. I want to take an exit that won't lead us to East Jubumbafuck." Why go from one shit town to another? They were looking for adventure, and it was a long way to a town that would give them that. She had money for gas, which was the only downside to this, the fact that they even needed to buy gas. Oh well, she was fine with sacrificing a few bucks for this fun. "I don't think there's another town for a shit ton of miles." There was a reason Maple Hollow was so far out, after all. Sometimes Altair's ears still popped at random times thanks to the altitude in the Academy. Luckily she chewed gum a lot in her poor efforts to quit smoking. It ruined her teeth, and she wanted to keep them pearly white for as long as possible. Until she had dentures when she was eighty. The health concern wasn't even an issue for her.
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Post by OWEN HUNTER ZE'V on Jun 12, 2012 14:48:17 GMT -5
Hunter had only really left Maple Hollow on vacations, and that always meant just sitting in a hotel in another city, or another country. He didn't see the point of going anywhere strange, because he didn't know what the hot spots were. If he didn't know where the good clubs happened to be, or where the parties were, or if he couldn't find loose girls and cheap liquor, there was no point to even leaving his hotel. It meant that there was a good chance to catch up on his sleep. Since he never slept, it was always a good experience, if not for recreational purposes, than at least for his health. "I'm kind of well known in town. I don't think even the dumbest of cops would think I was home making cookies." This was true. He had a bit of a reputation, and it was growing every time he went out. Even when he wasn't committing some kind of stupid minor crime, he was sleeping around and getting in fights, and the town was small enough that word traveled fast. Or, so he'd come to think anyway. "People saw us at the party. We'll say we got wasted and went right home to sleep it off," he was trying to be rational here, and while it wasn't the best of ideas, it would get them in the least trouble. It was definitely believable. Hunter let out a laugh when Altair stated that Bonnie was ugly as fuck. It was true, that woman wasn't fun to look at in the least. "Maybe we should come up with a better comparison then," he joked. Unfortunately, none came to mind. Why weren't there more crime duos out there? Obviously, this meant that they had to be the next one. After all, they couldn't be the only attractive kids in need of a comparison like this, so why couldn't they be the ones to do it? "We'll be like Hunter and Altair." It had a nice ring to it.
Hunter opened the glove compartment, and began digging around. He found a map after a moment, and opened it up. "Any idea where are?" he asked. It was no use having a map if you couldn't figure out where you were. It was also difficult to read in a car, especially when he was drunk. It was amazing that he wasn't vomiting right now. That was the last thing he'd want to do. He had to keep looking cool. He was stealing a car, and skipping town, at least for the duration of a joyride. This was legendary. He just needed to make sure it got better, and didn't end in embarrassment. Image was everything to the boy, and as long as he could keep his food down, he'd look pretty badass. "So what's the plan? Are we gonna lay low in some far off town for a while? Chop-shop the car for some cash, and come back home like nothing happened?" He wasn't really sure what Altair had in mind, but he was sure he'd be fine with it. Altair knew how to have fun, but she also knew how to look after herself. As long as he stayed close, he'd be fine.
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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Jun 13, 2012 16:22:01 GMT -5
Altair snorted at the boy's words, her hands tapping against the wheel to the music she'd put on. Kind of well-known, just like Ro. The people she surrounded herself were so lovely, but she could count herself among them. She was no saint."Thanks so much for flying under the radar, you make this much easier for us." As if he could predict that this would be happening to them. Unless he had a history of grand theft auto. Then he'd be screwed. "Sounds like a good deal. If we have our stories match up and get some people to say the same thing, then it'd work out." She could get quite a few people to do what she wanted, and not through manipulation. Most Fires stuck together, didn't snitch on each other. Altair turned the radio up even more when she said, "Can't think of any. Never cared much for history or dead people who liked to start wars with each other." It was ironic, considering she herself would like to be remembered after she died. Because what would it be worth if no one knew who she was after she kicked the bucket?
Altair told him the stretch of road they were on, pointed to the location as she took her eyes off the road for a moment. Bad idea since she started to swerve a little bit, into the direction of a tanker. She quickly turned the wheel as she laughed, saying, "Ah man, that was so close." It was definitely not as funny as she made it sound since she'd almost killed the both of them, but right now every little thing had the potential to make her die of laughter. "Oh no," she said when Hunter made some suggestions, "We're going down to Tijuana and form a Mariachi band that is a cover for a drug cartel. Live our lives as outlaws. How does that sound instead?" In truth, she was all for his plan. She had a feeling that she wouldn't like Tijuana much, anyway.
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Post by OWEN HUNTER ZE'V on Jun 15, 2012 19:49:51 GMT -5
Hunter sneered at Altair's comment. Flying under the radar just sounded boring. It sounded like what those nerd kids did. Like sitting at home on a weekend reading a book when people like Hunter were out living it up, getting trashed and stealing cars with attractive British girls. It just didn't appeal to the rogue that Hunter saw himself as. It didn't seem to have the same draw that drugs and sex had. Sure, nerds probably had sex, but it was nerd sex, and that sounded frightening. What did they even do? Hunter shook the thought off. Nothing good would come from following it any further. "I'm sorry, is your record spotless?" he retorted. He really didn't know if it was or wasn't, but if this girl was just stealing a car without a second thought, he was sure that it wasn't the first time. Usually people who finally find their spontaneity had a little more fear, or confusion, or excitement. Not to say that either of them weren't excited. They just weren't as excited as first timers must have been. "Totally." Hunter was sure that they could get people to lie for them. He had friends that would do it for him in a heartbeat, and he was sure that Altair would have the same. If not, she at least knew more fire kids, and there was definitely a loyalty there. If not, Hunter would instill one. He didn't have time for traitors or snitches in his element.
Hunter laughed as he watched Altair steer out of the way of a truck, and closed his eyes for a moment. He leaned back in his seat, as he tried to calm himself down a little bit. It wasn't that he was nervous, he was just facing too much adrenaline, and that wasn't good for anyone involved. If he continued on that path, he'd be putting his moves on Altair, and he wasn't sure how that'd go over. After all, he didn't want to face rejection, and wind up on the side of the road with no way back home. It was better to just be chased by the cops, than to be lost on a stretch of highway with no way out, and listed as an accomplice in grand theft auto. His eyes opened again at the notion of joining a Tijuana mariachi band. That sounded interesting. He was almost sure that she wasn't serious, but he decided to go along with the idea anyway. "I can play guitar," he offered. That meant that there would be a place for him in the band for sure. At least, so he hoped. How many mariachi guitarists could there be in Tijuana? Surely less than the number of bands in need. The only thing that sweetened that idea was the drug cartel cover. Hunter would love to be that close to a large quantity of drugs. Unfortunately, he didn't acknowledge the first rule of being a dealer - never get high on your own supply. He was far too indulgent for that kind of behavior.
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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Jun 20, 2012 15:44:45 GMT -5
The question made for a curious light to enter her gaze, mischievousness. Oh, what a question. She made no effort to stay away from police, no, because she never thought about them. When caught up in the moment, she did not consider the effects of what she was doing. It was all in having fun, and the police on her mind would not leave room for any fun. She could understand Hunter, there. They were birds of a feather, though. Friends? Maybe, but what was a friend to Altair? It was one of the great many philosophical questions to ponder. "Well I am in this car with you," she commented easily. "But I try my best not to get my ass in trouble. It's caused problems before." Where would she go if the girls got in trouble again? America? Would she even fit in there? She'd heard it was a lot like Canada, but she'd never been and therefore, she couldn't say. "Does that make me a buzzkill?" she said in a mocking tone of voice. It didn't matter to her, she had someone to look out for. Before, she might have wanted to cover up the fact that she actually gave a fuck what happened to Ro in order to hide a weakness. Now, she had enough pride that she would make it known that she'd defend the girl, and that she'd go to the ends of the earth for her. There was nothing she wouldn't do, as a matter of fact. That was loyalty, and she had a lot of it.
Altair felt hungry in the next moment, for her train of thought went from Tijuana to South America to Central America to Mexican food. She looked in the back as if there may be some food there, but she wouldn't be so lucky. She ate a lot, being as tall as she was. She may not have been impressive girth wise, but she did have muscle. She had to keep high-maintenance, otherwise she was out of a job, and she did not want that. Not after all she'd been through to get to this place again. "Well then, we're pretty much set, aren't we?" she said. "I can learn to play the accordion and we'll just be nomads. Though we might need to ditch the Impala. Not many nomads drive Impalas." Unless they were really fancy nomads, but such a thing did not exist. She may have been ignorant sometimes, but she was certain about a few things. Looking in the backseat again, she lifted her butt up a little before groaning and flopping back down. ["Jesus fuck, I'm hungry, this is too fucking long of a road," she said. "I think there's an exit..." She narrowed her eyes as she looked at the sign before turning off, absolutely ecstatic to find a rest stop. It looked like there was a Red Robin, and her stomach growled at the thought of a burger. Altair didn't think she'd been this hungry in her life, though she thought that whenever she had the munchies. "You hungry?" she questioned Hunter. Not that it mattered much, she was going to go in and get as much food as she could. Hopefully the popo weren't around to take notice of the shiny Impala.
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Post by OWEN HUNTER ZE'V on Jun 29, 2012 16:50:57 GMT -5
Altair claimed that she tried not to get in trouble, but what did that really mean? Clearly, she wasn't good at staying out of trouble. She said it herself, she was in this stolen car with him. That was a situation that could have easily been avoided. Not many people accidentally stole cars, and hunter was sure that she wasn't one of those fabled few. She knew what she was doing, she even got him to follow her lead. And it was fun. Trouble was always fun. The adrenaline was great, and it was cheaper than a movie. Not that money really ever mattered for Hunter, he was pretty well off. Still, he planned on staying well funded, and frivolous spending wasn't the way to go about it. He only paid for food and bail most of the time. Everything else could be gotten with other means. Hunter smirked when Altair asked him if it made her a buzzkill. "Nah, you're pretty entertaining. Even if you're scared of getting in trouble." He ran a hand through his hair and looked out the window for a second. Would it be safe to go back home at any point soon? He hated that his confidence on the issue was constantly shifting. It was probably the result of the drugs wearing off.
Hunter let out a laugh when the girl said they'd become nomads. "Fuck that shit. No, we're keeping the car. We'll be the classiest fucking nomads out there," he joked. There was no better idea than being well off and homeless. It was a contradiction that was still doable, and it made him eager to try it out. Even if this conversation was purely hypothetical. Hunter took a swig of his beer, and thought for a second. It wasn't like he had to think hard about whether or not he wanted food, but he had to weigh the options of stopping the stolen car somewhere public. He soon decided that he just didn't care at this point. "Yeah, I could eat," he replied. "What are you thinking?"
[I'm so sorry this took so long! >.<]
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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Jul 2, 2012 17:18:05 GMT -5
It was almost amusing, the little categories and slots that the Fire leader organized her cares and her care-nots into. The things she couldn't give less of a shit about, and the things that she felt passionately for. Her duality could be attributed to many things, she supposed, but she didn't ever think about it. Only in jest, as she was doing now in talking to Hunter. "I fear nothing," she said, but she was grinning, nowhere near offended by his words. If only she could always be this way. But that would be a crying shame, no one would want to fight her then. Antagonistic behavior meant more enemies, and she enjoyed her enemies. "Nothing at all. The police try to find us, and I'll spit on their shoes. And then moon the tossers." She let out a barking laugh, clearly amused by imagining this scenario. "And I'll be such a mofo they'll have to let me go." In her perfect world. But she did believe herself to be quite badass, as a matter of fact. Just not enough that the police would think about releasing her for grand theft auto.
They would be nomadic sirs, it had been decided. She had to agree, even though she didn't get off on cars as much as she did bikes. The girl didn't know what it was. Maybe something in her history, but she couldn't remember falling for a guy with a bike, or anything that might make her so attached to them. One day, when she and Rowena were stable enough, they could have it all. They would just have to give up their spending ways and figure out some of their financial issues. "Red Robin's," she told him when he said that he was hungry. "You can come in with." She walked into the rest stop, completely unassuming and getting a whole new buzz as she thought about the fact she was standing before these people as a criminal and they had no idea. But, like a good citizen, she paid for her burgers.
Altair walked back out to the car without incident, and sat down on the hood, kicking off her shoes as she opened the bag. The sun would be coming up soon, or so she was thinking. Taking a napkin out of the bag, the girl said, "Seriously, though...if you could leave and never come back, would you do it?" They had been all jokes about the whole Tijuana thing, but would he actually do it? Would she actually do it?
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