RP Log - for do_itloud
What: RP log - for do_itloud
Rating: PG13/R for language/violence
Frank really missed the Trans Am.
It wasn't like he drove all that often, really; the other three were better at it (well, Mikey was with his bike, at least), and he was frequently the one hauling ass away from whatever explosive he'd just set, and it was just easier if someone else already had the motor running before he got there. And really, the Trans Am was Gerard's. It had been all theirs to paint, and all theirs to live out of when they couldn't find a safe house, and all theirs to defend when it was the only cover available, but in the end, the car belonged to Gerard, and the fact that having his steady hands on the wheel seriously increased their chances of getting out of a tight spot was one of the first things Frank had come to count on after he had joined them.
Which was probably one of the many reasons he felt so very out of sorts in the driver's seat of this unfamiliar car borrowed from a friend of Show Pony's. Mikey's presence beside him did some to help balance him. The dark hair was still occasionally distractingly different, but he'd shrugged Kobra's coat on before they'd left the diner, and Frank had felt one of the knots in his stomach ease. There were still plenty there, though.
The radio crackled to life, music kicking on when there had only been static, and Frank took a deep breath when he recognized the song and looked away from the road briefly to meet Mikey's eye, then pulling to the edge of the track. It was one of the signs they'd been waiting for while they were out looking - he just wasn't sure he had actually wanted to hear it.
The song wound down, replaced now by Doctor Death Defying's voice. "Another from the attic for all you running the zones this blazing afternoon: the Rolling Stones, with 'Paint It Black'. Got a couple old friends on the way in for a hot time. Might even stop in and grab a film up on the old screen. Keep it real out there, babies." The song started up again, and Frank immediately cranked the wheel around, heading back the way they had come.
"The drive-in?" Mikey checked, and Frank nodded.
"There was a crew camping out there for a few days, last I heard."
"Both of them, with a full unit."
Frank shot him another glance. "Yeah."
Mikey fell silent, nodding, jaw tight, and Frank saw him draw his gun, turning it in his hand to check the settings. These were more powerful than their old ones, and both of them had, without discussion, dialed them back. It wasn't entirely foolish - Frank knew how to dust a Drac without the extra fire power, and neither of them had any intentions of accidentally dusting one of their own. The charges would last longer this way anyway.
Frank took a deep breath of his own and pushed the pedal down. He was in no hurry to see his brothers on the wrong end of his blaster, but the sooner they got there, the sooner all of them would be back home.
Rating: PG13/R for language/violence
Frank really missed the Trans Am.
It wasn't like he drove all that often, really; the other three were better at it (well, Mikey was with his bike, at least), and he was frequently the one hauling ass away from whatever explosive he'd just set, and it was just easier if someone else already had the motor running before he got there. And really, the Trans Am was Gerard's. It had been all theirs to paint, and all theirs to live out of when they couldn't find a safe house, and all theirs to defend when it was the only cover available, but in the end, the car belonged to Gerard, and the fact that having his steady hands on the wheel seriously increased their chances of getting out of a tight spot was one of the first things Frank had come to count on after he had joined them.
Which was probably one of the many reasons he felt so very out of sorts in the driver's seat of this unfamiliar car borrowed from a friend of Show Pony's. Mikey's presence beside him did some to help balance him. The dark hair was still occasionally distractingly different, but he'd shrugged Kobra's coat on before they'd left the diner, and Frank had felt one of the knots in his stomach ease. There were still plenty there, though.
The radio crackled to life, music kicking on when there had only been static, and Frank took a deep breath when he recognized the song and looked away from the road briefly to meet Mikey's eye, then pulling to the edge of the track. It was one of the signs they'd been waiting for while they were out looking - he just wasn't sure he had actually wanted to hear it.
The song wound down, replaced now by Doctor Death Defying's voice. "Another from the attic for all you running the zones this blazing afternoon: the Rolling Stones, with 'Paint It Black'. Got a couple old friends on the way in for a hot time. Might even stop in and grab a film up on the old screen. Keep it real out there, babies." The song started up again, and Frank immediately cranked the wheel around, heading back the way they had come.
"The drive-in?" Mikey checked, and Frank nodded.
"There was a crew camping out there for a few days, last I heard."
"Both of them, with a full unit."
Frank shot him another glance. "Yeah."
Mikey fell silent, nodding, jaw tight, and Frank saw him draw his gun, turning it in his hand to check the settings. These were more powerful than their old ones, and both of them had, without discussion, dialed them back. It wasn't entirely foolish - Frank knew how to dust a Drac without the extra fire power, and neither of them had any intentions of accidentally dusting one of their own. The charges would last longer this way anyway.
Frank took a deep breath of his own and pushed the pedal down. He was in no hurry to see his brothers on the wrong end of his blaster, but the sooner they got there, the sooner all of them would be back home.