[ Kobra's back to the diner almost half a day later than expected. What had been a routine run for information had turned into several hours of riding his bike in circles to make sure he wasn't followed after a little shootout with a couple of dracs about a mile out from his now-compromised contact who probably called the fucks in the first place, which means not only is Kobra coming home late, but he's also got information that they can't trust from a guy they have to cross off an ever-shrinking list.
Fuck.
He's also favoring his left leg and he's fucking starving, but neither of those things are entirely out of the ordinary. ]
Just me.
[ He pushes the door open, pretending not to stumble on the bad leg like a dog that's too proud to acknowledge the shit it just took on the carpet. ]
[ Half a day. Half a day is more than enough to consider someone officially MIA. Not that Party needed much of an excuse to have those possibilities float around in his dome. Which isn't to say that Kobra Kid isn't a goddamned adult with big boy pants and half a brain to keep himself out of trouble, but if Kid showed up dead, Party would personally go into the afterlife and kick his ghostly ass.
Which is to say that he's been worried sick for a couple of hours.
Sat at the bar and burning through his last cigarettes, Kobra's voice isn't enough to keep Party from turning right around and point his blaster towards the door. But even with the sight of him, red sure takes his time until he finally lowers it. ]
Y' look like shit. [ Muttered beside a crooked cig hanging from his mouth, said with the most judgy "you're a fucking idiot" casual tone one can conceive. It's an art, really. ]
[ Rolling his eyes, he drops his helmet on a torn up seat near the door and hobbles his way over to the kitchen door. Eat first, then deal with cranky brothers. That's what he tells himself as he grabs a can and the can opener.
He makes quick work of popping the can open and grabs a spoon, too hungry to bother warming it up. It won't taste good either way, so with a sigh, he takes it back out into the main room to eat.
Normally, he'd pop up on the bar or a table top, but his leg really isn't feeling that right now, so instead he sits on the edge of a booth seat, legs facing out as he leans over his can to take the first grainy bite. ]
Pumpkin tried to turn me in to the Dracs. Might wanna rethink anything he's given us in the last couple months.
[ He leaves him be while Kobra goes off to scavenge up some grub, since he's well are that both of them know Party is not done vocalizing his worry in affectionate insults. But they have all the time in the world.
He watches him, finishing off that cigarette and furrowing his brow. ]
Son of a bitch. Knew that asshole was a rat. [ Though, to be fair. not like Party actually trusted a lot of people.
He's already planning a way to find his sorry ass. You don't doublecross Party Poison or his crew. You certainly don't almost kill the Kid.]
Ghosted the ones I could see an' went in circles 'til I was sure they couldn't possibly be tailin' me.
[ He doesn't bother to stop eating, instead talking around the food in his mouth. Next time he's bringing something to eat with him, not that he really had time for a snack break. ]
Should've known he couldn't be trusted when he resisted my charms, right?
[ There's a little grin with the joke, like they don't both know that he's just trying to distract Party and change the subject. ]
[ And they both know that that's not gonna work; Kid doesn't get much more than a deadpan look, one of many from Party's bountiful collection.
He rolls his eyes and steps up to a boarded up window, looking through one of the uncovered spots. ]
Fuckin' told you that guy had bullshit written all over 'im. But yer stupid ass still went solo. Goddamnit, Kid.
[ Party being Party in a somewhat mellow tone, in the very least. At least he's not yelling or calling him something worse. The possible threat of a raid put that thought in the backburner. ]
[ As far as Kobra's concerned, he's fine, but it's not like he isn't used to Party by now. He's not going to sit here reassuring Party when he knows Party won't listen, but he's not going to play up the situation, either. He'd rather just move on. It's not like he hadn't had his own reservations, but there aren't exactly a lot of reliable and trustworthy people around outside of their little family. ]
Yeah, if Pumpkin's gone rogue, who knows who else he might go after next. D can warn everyone else he might be tryin' to work with.
[ He puts his can on the table, spoon sticking out the top, and leans down to open his boot and finally assess the damage. ]
Fuck no. D gets the word out an' that sun of a bitch bails. Gotta get D's people checkin' for dracs.
[ Because Party's taking care of Pumpkin himself, thank you very much.
After a few seconds of eyeballing the horizon, he finally steps away from the window and towards one of the backrooms. And smacks Kobra upside the head on the way there, for good measure. ]
[ He barely flinches at the smack, because Party's behavior is hardly new to him and he's had worse, but as far as he's concerned, he'd handled the situation the best he could. Party can't really expect him to be safe all the time and not try to get information when the opportunity arises. No one important died, anyway, so no harm done. ]
Yeah? Where're you goin' while Jet patches me up?
[ Because hell if he's letting Party go out all angry on his own right now. This is his unimpressed face, bro. ]
[ He can't expect Kobra to be safe all of the time, but that doesn't mean he's happy when Kobra's in danger. As much as he's not exactly the best person at communicating, Kobra is still not only part of his crew, but his brother. And, despite how much of an asshole Party Poison is, he takes care of his own. A lot of people know that laying a hand on Kobra Kid means that Party Poison will definitely be gunning for them soon after.
He grumbles something in response, scavenging around in the supply room. He comes back out and smacks a bottle of water down on the counter by the blonde, turning to move towards the manequins, apparently to get some of his gear on. ]
[ It's sporting a new scorch mark or two, but he doubts anyone would consider that worth noting.
He take the bottle and drinks some of it slowly. There's no point in drinking so fast that he can't absorb any of it and he's definitely at least a little dehydrated. ]
Plannin' on takin' it somewhere?
[ Party can have whatever ideas he wants, but Kobra's not letting him run off by himself all guns blazing without backup, especially not when he's being all emotional and moody about it. ]
Amos didn't often come out this far, but errand-runner he was and when it was required, well, he'd turn up anywhere his boss wanted him to be. Besides, there was a good trade in drugs and weapons here, if not a lot of money. Amos slowed his stolen motorbike and peered up at two vultures sitting in a dead tree.
"Way ahead clear?" He asked politely.
The birds lifted their naked heads and looked down the road. One of them oblidgingly lumbered up off its branch and labored up into the sky. After a few moments, it brushed minds with Amos, sharing its bision with him briefly.
An ambush ahead, it looked like, but it was the group he was looking for.
Amos politely left a gift of beef jerky beside the road for the vultures, and started down the road again, slower now so the colours on his jecket could be seen.
A car was parked near the side of the road, ways ahead, dirty and colorful and easily recognizable. But while the car itself could, in a way, almost blend in in the middle of the setting, the young man leaning against it was a little harder to ignore. Deep blue jacket and bright red hair, Party Poison kept his out on the horizon. Who knows what he's thinking about; many would argue that the sun had fried his brains out a long time ago.
He turns his head when he hears the motorbike, right on time. With one last, long drag, he flicks his cigarette out onto the sand and pushes himself off the vehicle's side. He knocks his hand twice on the window, without turning, giving the crewmate inside it a signal, though they don't seem to do much but turn their attention towards Amos as well.
Party sniffs and walks up to the road, stopping right before he steps on the asphalt. His face is as unfriendly as ever - a trademark of his, as well known as his name.
And there is the man: Amos recognizes the jacket and the impossibly red
hair. He pulls up slowly, and nods to man, making sure the daimon
for the Inagawa-kai
yakuza is visible on the sleeve of his own jacket, bright gold and crimson
because it amuses Kameko to use those colours. He pushes his dark hair out
of his eyes with a gloved hand. "You got the goods for me?" he asks,
cheerfully.
Because if they don't deliver, he is out of here, because he's not getting
stranded in this war of attrition between the Killjoys and their enemy
corporation.
He's got better things to do than die in the desert.
"Depends on what you got for me." He's been out here since he was undeniably considered a kid, and you learned pretty fast to never show your hand first.
Amos leans back and pats the motorbike's saddlebags, grinning. "Right here, sugar. Weapons an' food for all." Well not all but definitely Party and his crew. He flicks the clasp on one bag and pulls out a jar of fruit preserves to display. None of tge stuff is really fresh, it's all dried or otherwisepreserved but it's apparently better tgan what they can scavenge here.
It's fresher than anything else they've ever expected to get. It sure as hell beats dog food and probably doesn't kill them as fast as the exorbitant amounts of soda and bad booze they drink.
Party eyes the jar before reaching out to grab it.
"Sure, but you don't get any more 'till I get the goods," Amos warns, stepping away from the bike to hand over the jar. Despite wearing heavy boots his steps are whisper-quiet: he moves with a lazy grace and a fighter's poised balance.
Party might not have any of those, but he has a focused stare that would make most people uncomfortable. A very direct "I don't trust you until you give me good reason, and even then it's only temporary" statement summarized in a single look.
He takes the jar and opens it, giving it a sniff. As sweet as shittiest candy and soda they shove into their faces when they can, but a loss less non-chemicaly smelling. At least that's how he'd describe it if he was here to make conversation.
Just a dumb flunky, that's him. Amos shrugs and nods. Party's stare doesn't bother him one whit. He's faced down worse and tougher...or at least crazier. "The goods?"
[It's more like a 'psst' from the door as the small form of Fun Ghoul peeks into the diner and spots Kobra sitting alone in one of the booths. He grins, winks, and makes a small gesture with one hand, keeping his elbow tucked into his side.]
'S Poison here?
[Something clatters in the back of the diner and he ducks slightly, then giggles.]
[Coast confirmed clear, he slinks into the diner and grins wide at the other 'joy, bouncing over to him in that giddy way that only Fun Ghoul can really embody to its utmost.
He crawls into the booth seat behind Kobra and drapes over his shoulder, tucking his face against the other man's cheek.]
Ghoul looks outside for a moment, then squirms around the booth seat so he can sit beside Kobra instead. The small killjoy rests his head on the other man's shoulder, huffing out a breath through his nose.]
What's 'e gone fer? Never goes t' Tommy's if 'e can help it.
He smiles again, now amused. He always found it a little funny, how Ghoul goes about these things. You know, even despite Kobra's apparently cluelessness at times. ]
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Party Poison
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Fuck.
He's also favoring his left leg and he's fucking starving, but neither of those things are entirely out of the ordinary. ]
Just me.
[ He pushes the door open, pretending not to stumble on the bad leg like a dog that's too proud to acknowledge the shit it just took on the carpet. ]
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Which is to say that he's been worried sick for a couple of hours.
Sat at the bar and burning through his last cigarettes, Kobra's voice isn't enough to keep Party from turning right around and point his blaster towards the door. But even with the sight of him, red sure takes his time until he finally lowers it. ]
Y' look like shit. [ Muttered beside a crooked cig hanging from his mouth, said with the most judgy "you're a fucking idiot" casual tone one can conceive. It's an art, really. ]
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[ Rolling his eyes, he drops his helmet on a torn up seat near the door and hobbles his way over to the kitchen door. Eat first, then deal with cranky brothers. That's what he tells himself as he grabs a can and the can opener.
He makes quick work of popping the can open and grabs a spoon, too hungry to bother warming it up. It won't taste good either way, so with a sigh, he takes it back out into the main room to eat.
Normally, he'd pop up on the bar or a table top, but his leg really isn't feeling that right now, so instead he sits on the edge of a booth seat, legs facing out as he leans over his can to take the first grainy bite. ]
Pumpkin tried to turn me in to the Dracs. Might wanna rethink anything he's given us in the last couple months.
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He watches him, finishing off that cigarette and furrowing his brow. ]
Son of a bitch. Knew that asshole was a rat. [ Though, to be fair. not like Party actually trusted a lot of people.
He's already planning a way to find his sorry ass. You don't doublecross Party Poison or his crew. You certainly don't almost kill the Kid.]
Lost 'em?
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[ He doesn't bother to stop eating, instead talking around the food in his mouth. Next time he's bringing something to eat with him, not that he really had time for a snack break. ]
Should've known he couldn't be trusted when he resisted my charms, right?
[ There's a little grin with the joke, like they don't both know that he's just trying to distract Party and change the subject. ]
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He rolls his eyes and steps up to a boarded up window, looking through one of the uncovered spots. ]
Fuckin' told you that guy had bullshit written all over 'im. But yer stupid ass still went solo. Goddamnit, Kid.
[ Party being Party in a somewhat mellow tone, in the very least. At least he's not yelling or calling him something worse. The possible threat of a raid put that thought in the backburner. ]
Gotta look up, get D on the line.
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Yeah, if Pumpkin's gone rogue, who knows who else he might go after next. D can warn everyone else he might be tryin' to work with.
[ He puts his can on the table, spoon sticking out the top, and leans down to open his boot and finally assess the damage. ]
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[ Because Party's taking care of Pumpkin himself, thank you very much.
After a few seconds of eyeballing the horizon, he finally steps away from the window and towards one of the backrooms. And smacks Kobra upside the head on the way there, for good measure. ]
Jet'll patch you up, y' fucking crashqueen.
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Yeah? Where're you goin' while Jet patches me up?
[ Because hell if he's letting Party go out all angry on his own right now. This is his unimpressed face, bro. ]
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And, despite how much of an asshole Party Poison is, he takes care of his own. A lot of people know that laying a hand on Kobra Kid means that Party Poison will definitely be gunning for them soon after.
He grumbles something in response, scavenging around in the supply room. He comes back out and smacks a bottle of water down on the counter by the blonde, turning to move towards the manequins, apparently to get some of his gear on. ]
Any damage on the bike?
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[ It's sporting a new scorch mark or two, but he doubts anyone would consider that worth noting.
He take the bottle and drinks some of it slowly. There's no point in drinking so fast that he can't absorb any of it and he's definitely at least a little dehydrated. ]
Plannin' on takin' it somewhere?
[ Party can have whatever ideas he wants, but Kobra's not letting him run off by himself all guns blazing without backup, especially not when he's being all emotional and moody about it. ]
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He doesn't answer right away, "busy" putting on his holster and grabbing his jacket. ]
Goin' on a joyride.
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At least take Ghoul with you if you're gonna go on a man-hunt. Gonna get yourself ghosted like a dumbass if he's got protection.
[ Yup just another day of calling Party on his shit. He's not sorry. ]
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[ Says the one who's...yeah. ]
G's gonna have t' keep an eye around here t' make sure they didn't trail ya.
(a million years later...)
[ Kobra pushes himself to his feet, ignoring the pain, and hobbles towards Party like he's ready to tie him down if he has to. ]
Re: (a million years later...)
You don't be an idiot. What are you gonna do, tie me down?
[ Well. ]
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"Way ahead clear?" He asked politely.
The birds lifted their naked heads and looked down the road. One of them oblidgingly lumbered up off its branch and labored up into the sky. After a few moments, it brushed minds with Amos, sharing its bision with him briefly.
An ambush ahead, it looked like, but it was the group he was looking for.
Amos politely left a gift of beef jerky beside the road for the vultures, and started down the road again, slower now so the colours on his jecket could be seen.
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He turns his head when he hears the motorbike, right on time. With one last, long drag, he flicks his cigarette out onto the sand and pushes himself off the vehicle's side. He knocks his hand twice on the window, without turning, giving the crewmate inside it a signal, though they don't seem to do much but turn their attention towards Amos as well.
Party sniffs and walks up to the road, stopping right before he steps on the asphalt. His face is as unfriendly as ever - a trademark of his, as well known as his name.
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And there is the man: Amos recognizes the jacket and the impossibly red hair. He pulls up slowly, and nods to man, making sure the daimon for the Inagawa-kai yakuza is visible on the sleeve of his own jacket, bright gold and crimson because it amuses Kameko to use those colours. He pushes his dark hair out of his eyes with a gloved hand. "You got the goods for me?" he asks, cheerfully.
Because if they don't deliver, he is out of here, because he's not getting stranded in this war of attrition between the Killjoys and their enemy corporation.
He's got better things to do than die in the desert.
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"Show me."
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"As promised, sweetheart."
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Party eyes the jar before reaching out to grab it.
"Lemme see."
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He takes the jar and opens it, giving it a sniff. As sweet as shittiest candy and soda they shove into their faces when they can, but a loss less non-chemicaly smelling. At least that's how he'd describe it if he was here to make conversation.
"How'd you get it?"
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Just a dumb flunky, that's him. Amos shrugs and nods. Party's stare doesn't bother him one whit. He's faced down worse and tougher...or at least crazier. "The goods?"
Kobra Kid
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[It's more like a 'psst' from the door as the small form of Fun Ghoul peeks into the diner and spots Kobra sitting alone in one of the booths. He grins, winks, and makes a small gesture with one hand, keeping his elbow tucked into his side.]
'S Poison here?
[Something clatters in the back of the diner and he ducks slightly, then giggles.]
C'mon, Kid, is 'e here?
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'E went out to Chow Mein's.
Whassup?
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[Coast confirmed clear, he slinks into the diner and grins wide at the other 'joy, bouncing over to him in that giddy way that only Fun Ghoul can really embody to its utmost.
He crawls into the booth seat behind Kobra and drapes over his shoulder, tucking his face against the other man's cheek.]
'm winning.
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The face squish gets a smile. ]
How long y' been hiding?
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Three days.
[A high giggle is let out softly beside Kobra's ear.]
I think he gave up lookin'.
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Y' fuckin' won, fer sure.
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Ghoul looks outside for a moment, then squirms around the booth seat so he can sit beside Kobra instead. The small killjoy rests his head on the other man's shoulder, huffing out a breath through his nose.]
What's 'e gone fer? Never goes t' Tommy's if 'e can help it.
[Shit, he hadn't expected Ghoul to go, had he?]
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[ He glances out the window, but there's nothing to see besides cacti and the occasional bird.]
You know he don't say unless he needs help...
[ And even then... ]
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That mean we got some time t' ourselves?
[Because Jet won't bother them. If anything, he'll keep the Girl out of their way.]
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Yea'. Why?
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So dumb, but he loves him.]
Because~
[And he leans up to press a kiss to the corner of Kobra's mouth, his coy smile turning sweet.]
'S been a while since we did.
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He smiles again, now amused. He always found it a little funny, how Ghoul goes about these things. You know, even despite Kobra's apparently cluelessness at times. ]
True...
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