Save the 'Date'
WHO: Mano y Mano (Logan and John Paul)
WHEN: June the sixth redux, late night to early morning
WHERE: Liberty- the whole damn city
WHAT: Logan's clueless and John's playing for keeps. It's just unfortunate that no one ever told him the movies don't always have it right.
The suit was too much. Had to be too much.
The fucking suit was too fucking much.
John leaned back against the dark plush of his car seat in staggering defeat, absorbing the shock of blue against smoldering red in his blurry peripheral as his arm draped limply against the door's small arm rest. Matched rather elegantly with his Ta Moko, the color, but the fabric was so fine, well brushed and gleaming, that if a flock of Magpie abruptly swooped down and carried him away, he would be the first- not the only- one to say 'I thought as much'. Anyone chancing a glance at the classy little Mercedez parked in front of the modestly decaying venue of the Centralia apartment complex would have no issues distinguishing him from the vehicle's brightly crimson interior even with the thickly tinted windows up, a fact that would have set him grinning hours prior made his stomach lurch worse than vertigo on a cliff's edge.
He must have been fairly frightening when he managed to regain enough confidence to stick his head out of the window- a heavily tattooed, suited man in a pricey cherry colored number on a street of cracking pavement and potholes, short spiked hair gelled back, one eye squinted near shut. Several people scurried away, their backs hunched, their paces sped up. Several more stared, wide-eyed, incredulous, until either their companions pulled them after or their own sense of self preservation began kicking and screaming.
One individual caught his eye and it was this young man that John hailed amicably. 'Hallo'd while he waved. "Oi, mate, wouldn't happen to be roomie to a Logan Mortlock would ya?"
The boy stood frozen in place until a minute, trembling nod came slowly to him. It took another several odd moments of John shouting questions and the poor lad stuttering out nervous responses but he eventually learned, yes, Logan was home and yes, he was aware that he had prior engagements.
John sank back again as he watched Mister Galante scurry off, switched the engine back on, twitched the dial, closed his eyes.
Adjusted his tie to the sound of Bohemian Rhapsody and wondered if the excuse 'just came back from an emergency business meet' would convince a certain thick skulled bastard...
WHEN: June the sixth redux, late night to early morning
WHERE: Liberty- the whole damn city
WHAT: Logan's clueless and John's playing for keeps. It's just unfortunate that no one ever told him the movies don't always have it right.
The suit was too much. Had to be too much.
The fucking suit was too fucking much.
John leaned back against the dark plush of his car seat in staggering defeat, absorbing the shock of blue against smoldering red in his blurry peripheral as his arm draped limply against the door's small arm rest. Matched rather elegantly with his Ta Moko, the color, but the fabric was so fine, well brushed and gleaming, that if a flock of Magpie abruptly swooped down and carried him away, he would be the first- not the only- one to say 'I thought as much'. Anyone chancing a glance at the classy little Mercedez parked in front of the modestly decaying venue of the Centralia apartment complex would have no issues distinguishing him from the vehicle's brightly crimson interior even with the thickly tinted windows up, a fact that would have set him grinning hours prior made his stomach lurch worse than vertigo on a cliff's edge.
He must have been fairly frightening when he managed to regain enough confidence to stick his head out of the window- a heavily tattooed, suited man in a pricey cherry colored number on a street of cracking pavement and potholes, short spiked hair gelled back, one eye squinted near shut. Several people scurried away, their backs hunched, their paces sped up. Several more stared, wide-eyed, incredulous, until either their companions pulled them after or their own sense of self preservation began kicking and screaming.
One individual caught his eye and it was this young man that John hailed amicably. 'Hallo'd while he waved. "Oi, mate, wouldn't happen to be roomie to a Logan Mortlock would ya?"
The boy stood frozen in place until a minute, trembling nod came slowly to him. It took another several odd moments of John shouting questions and the poor lad stuttering out nervous responses but he eventually learned, yes, Logan was home and yes, he was aware that he had prior engagements.
John sank back again as he watched Mister Galante scurry off, switched the engine back on, twitched the dial, closed his eyes.
Adjusted his tie to the sound of Bohemian Rhapsody and wondered if the excuse 'just came back from an emergency business meet' would convince a certain thick skulled bastard...