03-04-2010, 06:06 AM
Although Sage had promised to pay for lunch, she was really in no condition to do so; Ander simply had the waiter box up the remnants of their meals and took care of the lunch tab as well as the drink tab. Typically, he had several routines in his repertoire of dine-and-ditch, but there was no way he could slip out quietly with his completely and utterly drunken companion. Really, it was his own fault; he was the one who bought her all those appletinis. The thief hefted her up off her chair, leftover bag slung over one shoulder, and he half-carried, half-walked her out to the car, praying that her half-eaten sandwich didn’t decide to make a second appearance. He leaned her up against the side of the SUV, opening the passenger side door and tipping the seat back so she could lie down. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her sway woozily to the side, and he just barely managed to catch her before she stumbled onto the parking lot pavement. Somehow, getting her drunk for information was turning out to be more trouble than it was worth.
“You really are a lightweight,” he chuckled.
“No I’m not,” she slurred defiantly. “I’m just… tired… and I don’t feel good…”
“We still have a couple of hours until West City. You can sleep it off in the car,” Ander assured. He picked her up and deposited her in the seat, where she immediately curled up in a sleeping position while he clicked the safety belt in place.
“Mmm… thank you,” she murmured.
Don’t thank me… don’t ever thank me…
“Sure thing,” he smiled.
Within seconds, he took behind the wheel and started rolling out of the restaurant’s lot and back onto the main freeway.
“Ander?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t tell anybody… please…”
“Secrets are my life. I won’t say a word,” he promised. After a few minutes, a thought occurred to him. “Hey Sage. What’s Vegeta-sei like?”
A minute or so passed with no response. He looked over, and saw her fast asleep. Oh well. He turned on the heat—it was still too cold for his taste—and pulled the iPod cord out of the stereo, letting the girl rest in complete silence. Alone with his thoughts, curiosity eventually got the better of the desert dweller, and more questions popped into his mind that he could have asked her while he still had the opportunity: about her sister, why Sage specifically was kidnapped, why she needed to hide who she was… an endless line of inquiry presented itself, and how typical that he thought of it after it was already too late. Even intoxicated, however, she had presented a stubborn means of resistance to his questioning, showing him just how deeply guarded she was, likely even more so when completely sober.
Still, the most important question of all remained: why does this matter?
After West City, all of his careful machinations would mean nothing, and ultimately, she didn’t affect his life at all. Or at least, she wasn’t supposed to. The more he got attached now, the harder it would be to say good-bye later, and he didn’t want to have to deal with that again. His blue eyes glazed over with burning memories, about a best friend who thought him little more than deadweight, only to turn right around and make another best friend who manipulated him to achieve his own ends. That’s ultimately what “friendship” amounted to: use you and lose you. And Ander would be damned if he was going to let that happen again. No, he wasn’t going to be on the losing end. Not this time.
He glanced over at his passenger. But she was so much like him, a kindred spirit, similar in so many ways…
Before he knew it, their car passed under a sign that read: ‘West City Exit 142A, 1 mile.’
End of the line.
“Hey, Sage,” Ander said softly. He tore his eyes briefly away from the road and took a hand off the wheel to give her a light shake. “Sage, wake up.”
Her placid face scrunched up into an expression of discomfort, and she roused with more than a little reluctance. She hesitantly opened her rosy eyes, the daylight burning painfully. Her head pounded, as if a hammer and an anvil waged war inside her skull.
“Ugh…” she groaned, placing a palm to her forehead. “Where are we?”
“We’ll be at West City in a couple of minutes. You have to tell me where your mom’s family lives, ’cause I don’t know where to go,” the thief replied. He grabbed a water bottle from the cup holder on the center console. “Here, I got this for you at a gas station. It’s probably not cold anymore, but it’ll help.”
The cryomancer grabbed it gratefully, but relapsed into a half-dozing state. Ander looked at her, and could barely suppress a smile.
When he looked back to the road, however, he saw a giant figure standing in the middle of their lane. His blue eyes widened.
OH SHIT.
He sharply turned the wheel to the right, away from traffic, but the sudden maneuver caused the SUV to spin in a 180 motion and jerk so harshly, that coupled with his high speed, the top-heavy vehicle started to flip. Ander squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself as they toppled and rolled off the freeway and into a ditch beside the shoulder. Loose objects flew askew everywhere, and glass shattered from the impact. The car landed upside down, crumpling in a surprisingly still-intact heap.
The thief groaned as he hung from the driver’s seat, secured by his safety belt. He looked over towards Sage.
“Hey… hey! Y’all right?” he asked woozily. He reached out to jostle her, but she remained unresponsive to his touch. Then his fingers traced along her neck as he felt for a pulse, and found one, beating strongly as a beacon of life. The thief then allowed himself a minute to gather the wind that the sudden crash had knocked out of him. Upon sufficient recovery, the dune dweller steadily unbuckled his safety belt and lowered his body to the ceiling of the partially mangled car. Fortunately, the vehicle wasn’t even his. Besides, he was certain ‘Maxwell Van de Velde’ could probably afford a million of them anyway.
Ander crawled out, trying to avoid the broken glass as best he could. He rose to his feet, shakily. Had he not possessed a physicality above that of an average human, he would likely have been rendered unconscious and suffered much more grievous injury. As it stood, he’d taken a lot worse damage than this and walked away with nothing more than a couple of bruises. The thief brushed his shoulder-length black hair away from his face and surveyed the car. He’d never attempted to move something as big as this, and he wasn’t sure he was in the best condition to try. Instead, he groggily stumbled over to the passenger side, intending to simply bend the metal and excavate his unconscious companion. After all, he was responsible for her current state of alcohol recovery, and he was responsible for the crash…
…no, wait. Some jackass had been standing out in the middle of the freeway.
Assuring himself that Sage could hold on a minute longer, he went out to check and see if some remarkably stupid idiot had been flattened by the steadily accumulating rush hour traffic. Instead, he found a large… thing, standing on the shoulder, as if it waited patiently just for him.
“Hey!” Ander called out in indignation. “Who the hell are you?”
“Mission Objective: subjugate and retrieve,” it stated in a mechanical voice.
“What are you, some kind of robot?” the thief scoffed, although the smooth, metallic, bionic appearance should have made that obvious enough.
“Resistance is futile.”
Then, with calm, measured steps, the robot started walking towards the blue-eyed bandit. Ander merely smirked, and brought up a hand.
“You don’t know who you’re fuckin’ with, Tin Man!”
Then he thrust the arm out, exerting the influence of his binding against the robot’s metallic frame. Sadly, nothing happened. Confusion replaced confidence, and Ander tried again, and failed just as surely as the first time. Panic started to settle in, and despite the obvious lack of success at previous attempts, the thief just tried harder. The robot closed in.
Aw, great.
“Not the face,” Ander said sternly, raising a pointed finger.
The robot backhanded him across the cheek, sending the thief flying backwards into the uncultivated field beyond the ditch. He landed with a magnificent bounce, rolling over a couple of times before coming to an unceremonious stop.
Robot 1, Ander 0.
“I said NOT the face,” he growled in pain. He struggled to pull himself up, his hazy mind pointlessly attempting to formulate a strategy. How do you defeat a killer robot immune to metal binding? Ander fumbled through his capsule pouch, his fingers frantically feeling out the right symbol. Maybe if he heated up one of his weapons, he could penetrate the armor and…
No such luck. The robot was behind him in an instant, and held him tightly in an inescapable hold, one cybernetic arm wrapped tightly around the thief’s throat. The mysterious attacker applied heavy pressure, cutting off oxygen flow and slowly suffocating the youth. It was a bit ironic, really, a move Ander favored so much being used against him. Ander already knew his strength fell woefully insufficient to overcome the maniacal machine, and any thought he could summon to the contrary dulled over in a foggy transition to unconsciousness.
Helplessly, he reached out towards the car, his sight losing sharpness and clarity.
“S-sage…” he gasped, until finally, his body slackened.
Robot 2, Ander 0.
Game, set, match.
“You really are a lightweight,” he chuckled.
“No I’m not,” she slurred defiantly. “I’m just… tired… and I don’t feel good…”
“We still have a couple of hours until West City. You can sleep it off in the car,” Ander assured. He picked her up and deposited her in the seat, where she immediately curled up in a sleeping position while he clicked the safety belt in place.
“Mmm… thank you,” she murmured.
Don’t thank me… don’t ever thank me…
“Sure thing,” he smiled.
Within seconds, he took behind the wheel and started rolling out of the restaurant’s lot and back onto the main freeway.
“Ander?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t tell anybody… please…”
“Secrets are my life. I won’t say a word,” he promised. After a few minutes, a thought occurred to him. “Hey Sage. What’s Vegeta-sei like?”
A minute or so passed with no response. He looked over, and saw her fast asleep. Oh well. He turned on the heat—it was still too cold for his taste—and pulled the iPod cord out of the stereo, letting the girl rest in complete silence. Alone with his thoughts, curiosity eventually got the better of the desert dweller, and more questions popped into his mind that he could have asked her while he still had the opportunity: about her sister, why Sage specifically was kidnapped, why she needed to hide who she was… an endless line of inquiry presented itself, and how typical that he thought of it after it was already too late. Even intoxicated, however, she had presented a stubborn means of resistance to his questioning, showing him just how deeply guarded she was, likely even more so when completely sober.
Still, the most important question of all remained: why does this matter?
After West City, all of his careful machinations would mean nothing, and ultimately, she didn’t affect his life at all. Or at least, she wasn’t supposed to. The more he got attached now, the harder it would be to say good-bye later, and he didn’t want to have to deal with that again. His blue eyes glazed over with burning memories, about a best friend who thought him little more than deadweight, only to turn right around and make another best friend who manipulated him to achieve his own ends. That’s ultimately what “friendship” amounted to: use you and lose you. And Ander would be damned if he was going to let that happen again. No, he wasn’t going to be on the losing end. Not this time.
He glanced over at his passenger. But she was so much like him, a kindred spirit, similar in so many ways…
Before he knew it, their car passed under a sign that read: ‘West City Exit 142A, 1 mile.’
End of the line.
“Hey, Sage,” Ander said softly. He tore his eyes briefly away from the road and took a hand off the wheel to give her a light shake. “Sage, wake up.”
Her placid face scrunched up into an expression of discomfort, and she roused with more than a little reluctance. She hesitantly opened her rosy eyes, the daylight burning painfully. Her head pounded, as if a hammer and an anvil waged war inside her skull.
“Ugh…” she groaned, placing a palm to her forehead. “Where are we?”
“We’ll be at West City in a couple of minutes. You have to tell me where your mom’s family lives, ’cause I don’t know where to go,” the thief replied. He grabbed a water bottle from the cup holder on the center console. “Here, I got this for you at a gas station. It’s probably not cold anymore, but it’ll help.”
The cryomancer grabbed it gratefully, but relapsed into a half-dozing state. Ander looked at her, and could barely suppress a smile.
When he looked back to the road, however, he saw a giant figure standing in the middle of their lane. His blue eyes widened.
OH SHIT.
He sharply turned the wheel to the right, away from traffic, but the sudden maneuver caused the SUV to spin in a 180 motion and jerk so harshly, that coupled with his high speed, the top-heavy vehicle started to flip. Ander squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself as they toppled and rolled off the freeway and into a ditch beside the shoulder. Loose objects flew askew everywhere, and glass shattered from the impact. The car landed upside down, crumpling in a surprisingly still-intact heap.
The thief groaned as he hung from the driver’s seat, secured by his safety belt. He looked over towards Sage.
“Hey… hey! Y’all right?” he asked woozily. He reached out to jostle her, but she remained unresponsive to his touch. Then his fingers traced along her neck as he felt for a pulse, and found one, beating strongly as a beacon of life. The thief then allowed himself a minute to gather the wind that the sudden crash had knocked out of him. Upon sufficient recovery, the dune dweller steadily unbuckled his safety belt and lowered his body to the ceiling of the partially mangled car. Fortunately, the vehicle wasn’t even his. Besides, he was certain ‘Maxwell Van de Velde’ could probably afford a million of them anyway.
Ander crawled out, trying to avoid the broken glass as best he could. He rose to his feet, shakily. Had he not possessed a physicality above that of an average human, he would likely have been rendered unconscious and suffered much more grievous injury. As it stood, he’d taken a lot worse damage than this and walked away with nothing more than a couple of bruises. The thief brushed his shoulder-length black hair away from his face and surveyed the car. He’d never attempted to move something as big as this, and he wasn’t sure he was in the best condition to try. Instead, he groggily stumbled over to the passenger side, intending to simply bend the metal and excavate his unconscious companion. After all, he was responsible for her current state of alcohol recovery, and he was responsible for the crash…
…no, wait. Some jackass had been standing out in the middle of the freeway.
Assuring himself that Sage could hold on a minute longer, he went out to check and see if some remarkably stupid idiot had been flattened by the steadily accumulating rush hour traffic. Instead, he found a large… thing, standing on the shoulder, as if it waited patiently just for him.
“Hey!” Ander called out in indignation. “Who the hell are you?”
“Mission Objective: subjugate and retrieve,” it stated in a mechanical voice.
“What are you, some kind of robot?” the thief scoffed, although the smooth, metallic, bionic appearance should have made that obvious enough.
“Resistance is futile.”
Then, with calm, measured steps, the robot started walking towards the blue-eyed bandit. Ander merely smirked, and brought up a hand.
“You don’t know who you’re fuckin’ with, Tin Man!”
Then he thrust the arm out, exerting the influence of his binding against the robot’s metallic frame. Sadly, nothing happened. Confusion replaced confidence, and Ander tried again, and failed just as surely as the first time. Panic started to settle in, and despite the obvious lack of success at previous attempts, the thief just tried harder. The robot closed in.
Aw, great.
“Not the face,” Ander said sternly, raising a pointed finger.
The robot backhanded him across the cheek, sending the thief flying backwards into the uncultivated field beyond the ditch. He landed with a magnificent bounce, rolling over a couple of times before coming to an unceremonious stop.
Robot 1, Ander 0.
“I said NOT the face,” he growled in pain. He struggled to pull himself up, his hazy mind pointlessly attempting to formulate a strategy. How do you defeat a killer robot immune to metal binding? Ander fumbled through his capsule pouch, his fingers frantically feeling out the right symbol. Maybe if he heated up one of his weapons, he could penetrate the armor and…
No such luck. The robot was behind him in an instant, and held him tightly in an inescapable hold, one cybernetic arm wrapped tightly around the thief’s throat. The mysterious attacker applied heavy pressure, cutting off oxygen flow and slowly suffocating the youth. It was a bit ironic, really, a move Ander favored so much being used against him. Ander already knew his strength fell woefully insufficient to overcome the maniacal machine, and any thought he could summon to the contrary dulled over in a foggy transition to unconsciousness.
Helplessly, he reached out towards the car, his sight losing sharpness and clarity.
“S-sage…” he gasped, until finally, his body slackened.
Robot 2, Ander 0.
Game, set, match.
[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]
_=So wake me when it's through
I don't want to feel the things that you do
Don't worry, I'll be fine
I just don't want this dream, wake me up inside=_
I don't want to feel the things that you do
Don't worry, I'll be fine
I just don't want this dream, wake me up inside=_