This wasn’t the plan. The plan was to have a conference with Amelia’s attorney, and then do some more research into how to find lost things
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Mara yawns and stretches, listening to the satisfying pops throughout her body. The backseat of a convertible isn't the most comfortable place to sleep, but it seems the key is to keep a crapload of comforters in your trunk and literally bury the backseat under them.
She growls playfully towards the morning sun and an expert foot tickles Caleb in his mid-section. "Who jammed you into 'on', doc?"
Ah, Mara in the morning. More abrasive than the Brillo brand soap pad.
"If you weren't, I'd be terrified first, grossed out second," she mumbles back. The trick to going back to sleep once you've woken up is not rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Yawn all you like, but never, ever rub your eyes. Mara's already done that; habit, really. She's been trying to break it for years to actually test the theory, but hasn't quite got the knack of it.
She moves her way closer to him, lining his body with hers. The July sun is starting to set warmth across the cool, hidden, green patch they found. She's gotten a sudden appreciation for the old Impala, especially the backseat that was practically made for--
"Hey," she giggles, tapping fingers against his chest. "I propose the plan from here is 'feed Mara'."
He pulls her in closer, planting a kiss on her forehead along the way. “Of course, lasket,” he answers before opening turning his attention towards the towering tree providing the shade.
“Have you ever been to Marseilles?” He turns back to her, gently gliding the tip of his finger up her side, and then around her neck. “There’s this bakery out that way with the most delicious breakfast pastries you can imagine.”
He snickers as the thought crosses his mind. It’s not an issue for him - it never has been - but sometimes he forgets that not everyone is as well traveled as he is. Most people can’t just teleport around the globe at the speed of thought, after all.
It’s an experience he loved to share with people. And not just because it’s impressive, either: For one unaccustomed to the sensation, the act of teleportation can be quite ... invigorating.
And besides, he has the gift. Why not share? “Good food, fun trip....”
That still sounds remarkably like work. "I'd have to find my clothes," she notes, looking around. Nothing's within eyesight, which pretty much assumes it's not in arm's reach.
A curious peer over the side of the car produces a wild laugh from Mara. Caleb gets mooned-- very unladylike-- as Mara leans over the side and retrieves a pair of denim shorts from the grass. She pulls herself back in and flops into the backseat again, whipping the shorts around a bit in success. "Found one!"
He snickers and sighs as he sits up, and every bone in his back cracks in glorious unison.
He just sits there for a few seconds, eyes still closed and the wind on his skin, and enjoys the quiet. No cars. No pedestrians. No tourists. No horns. No airplanes. No radios blaring at obnoxious volumes. Just the sounds of the birds.
There's a search for undergarments. That's an easier one to find, fifty percent buried underneath the passenger seat and the other half a search among the front seat.
She's getting dressed in the back when he leans up. Her eyes catch something she'd noticed before, but wasn't quite in the position to question at the time. "So what happened?"
She leans around him to grab for the end of her Orange Crush shirt that's peeking through folds of blanket. On her way by she brushes his back, fingers across the long scar there. "Wasn't there before." And it's pink, not white, so she knows it's fresh.
The memory of Louis slicing into his back isn’t something he was expecting, and his whole body language shifts towards tense, if only for a moment.
“I, uh … An opponent of mine was using a holy weapon. Scars they inflict are one of the, uh .. one of the few types it’s not within my power to heal.” He cracks his neck, and leans into the front seat to retrieve his boxers.
She pauses with her shirt half-way on. Then it occurs to her how silly she must look at such a serious moment and she pulls it on the rest of the way.
Before last night, Mara hadn't heard from Caleb in a bit. She felt wrong calling him, considering his day job-- Lunatic. He also didn't seem the type to blow her off, even if they didn't have much of anything to blow off, besides fun. Then she read Sleeping Beauty Turns Psycho, and the several dozen other gossip mags that contain stories about people you never thought were celebrities, doing things not-so-glamorous; like being admitted into a mental ward.
There's too much of a full picture being painted here, and as much as Mara feels like a horrible person for it, she doesn't want the full picture. He's all right... as all right as he ever is, anyway. She'll let it be at that, and goes about pulling on a sock. "My brother's got a wicked indent and scar over his left peck... someone actually threw hot debris at him while he was trying to save their life."
"It's fairly common," she explains, pulling on the other sock. "People stash money in strange places. All over the house. Guy had twenty-six thousand in cash in his bathroom wall."
She shakes her head. "Picked up something by the cord and flung it at my brother. They later identified it as a modem-- a hot, cinder-full, melting modem. People are crazy."
“I, uh .. I used to work hostage rescue for DEO, and there was this one woman out in Easton, Pennsylvania - A mother who didn't want to allow her children to return to their father when her weekend with them was over. Well, Easton doesn’t have an SCU, so when things took a turn for the worse, we were called in to support the local police.”
“To make a long story short, she wound up hurting one of the children, and we had to go in to protect the other two. Ours is a world gone mad."
The only article that hasn't been put on again is her shoes. The left one seems to be MIA. "But what're you going to do? The price of a perfect world is all the flavor that makes life worth living." She shrugs. "No one side ever really wins."
She growls playfully towards the morning sun and an expert foot tickles Caleb in his mid-section. "Who jammed you into 'on', doc?"
Ah, Mara in the morning. More abrasive than the Brillo brand soap pad.
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Reply
She moves her way closer to him, lining his body with hers. The July sun is starting to set warmth across the cool, hidden, green patch they found. She's gotten a sudden appreciation for the old Impala, especially the backseat that was practically made for--
"Hey," she giggles, tapping fingers against his chest. "I propose the plan from here is 'feed Mara'."
Reply
“Have you ever been to Marseilles?” He turns back to her, gently gliding the tip of his finger up her side, and then around her neck. “There’s this bakery out that way with the most delicious breakfast pastries you can imagine.”
He snickers as the thought crosses his mind. It’s not an issue for him - it never has been - but sometimes he forgets that not everyone is as well traveled as he is. Most people can’t just teleport around the globe at the speed of thought, after all.
It’s an experience he loved to share with people. And not just because it’s impressive, either: For one unaccustomed to the sensation, the act of teleportation can be quite ... invigorating.
And besides, he has the gift. Why not share? “Good food, fun trip....”
Reply
A curious peer over the side of the car produces a wild laugh from Mara. Caleb gets mooned-- very unladylike-- as Mara leans over the side and retrieves a pair of denim shorts from the grass. She pulls herself back in and flops into the backseat again, whipping the shorts around a bit in success. "Found one!"
Reply
He just sits there for a few seconds, eyes still closed and the wind on his skin, and enjoys the quiet. No cars. No pedestrians. No tourists. No horns. No airplanes. No radios blaring at obnoxious volumes. Just the sounds of the birds.
It’s serene.
Reply
She's getting dressed in the back when he leans up. Her eyes catch something she'd noticed before, but wasn't quite in the position to question at the time. "So what happened?"
She leans around him to grab for the end of her Orange Crush shirt that's peeking through folds of blanket. On her way by she brushes his back, fingers across the long scar there. "Wasn't there before." And it's pink, not white, so she knows it's fresh.
Reply
“I, uh … An opponent of mine was using a holy weapon. Scars they inflict are one of the, uh .. one of the few types it’s not within my power to heal.” He cracks his neck, and leans into the front seat to retrieve his boxers.
“At least not if they’re located on my person.”
Reply
Before last night, Mara hadn't heard from Caleb in a bit. She felt wrong calling him, considering his day job-- Lunatic. He also didn't seem the type to blow her off, even if they didn't have much of anything to blow off, besides fun. Then she read Sleeping Beauty Turns Psycho, and the several dozen other gossip mags that contain stories about people you never thought were celebrities, doing things not-so-glamorous; like being admitted into a mental ward.
There's too much of a full picture being painted here, and as much as Mara feels like a horrible person for it, she doesn't want the full picture. He's all right... as all right as he ever is, anyway. She'll let it be at that, and goes about pulling on a sock. "My brother's got a wicked indent and scar over his left peck... someone actually threw hot debris at him while he was trying to save their life."
Reply
“That’s quite mad. Why … What possessed them?” Pants, wallet, check.
Reply
She shakes her head. "Picked up something by the cord and flung it at my brother. They later identified it as a modem-- a hot, cinder-full, melting modem. People are crazy."
Reply
“I, uh .. I used to work hostage rescue for DEO, and there was this one woman out in Easton, Pennsylvania - A mother who didn't want to allow her children to return to their father when her weekend with them was over. Well, Easton doesn’t have an SCU, so when things took a turn for the worse, we were called in to support the local police.”
“To make a long story short, she wound up hurting one of the children, and we had to go in to protect the other two. Ours is a world gone mad."
Reply
The only article that hasn't been put on again is her shoes. The left one seems to be MIA. "But what're you going to do? The price of a perfect world is all the flavor that makes life worth living." She shrugs. "No one side ever really wins."
Reply
Hands slide around her waist from behind, and pull her close as Caleb plants a series of soft kisses along the back of her neck and upper back.
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