Accidents Happen [OPEN]

[goshdarnniteowl]

"Oh, come on!"

Sometimes, the trials and tribulations of Gotham are just as mundane as those in any other big city. Traffic jams. Garbage strikes. A truck full of barrels of God only knows what kind of industrial waste, overturned in Midtown, on 18th Street near East City Park. Sucks to be someone who drives to and from work, doesn't it? Hell

Comments

[try_tolie]

Cal cursed silently, glaring at his car, then glaring at the road. A traffic jam. Of all things to hold him up, it's a traffic jam. He had got out okay this morning. Dropped off Emily at school, made sure she had all her school items, and so on and so forth. Typical dad stuff. Then, it was off to the office when disaster struck, in the form of a traffic jam.

Scowling, Cal shut off his engine and stepped outside to look around. "Hello?" he called out, obviously annoyed. "Anybody know what's going on up there?"

[i_own_this]

"I think it's a traffic jam," someone chimes helpfully. From his perch on the edge of the sunroof of a black limosine, music blaring from inside.

Bruce Wayne: World's Greatest Detective.

[try_tolie]

"What a brilliant observation," Cal deadpans, looking around for the source of the voice. There we go. A black limo with a guy on the roof. Well. There's something you don't see every day. "My main question is what's causing the traffic jam."

Cal walked slightly closer to the limo, all while keeping an eye on his car. "Can you actually see anything there?"

[i_own_this]

"I can see the park." He points! Helpfully.

It's... sort of remarkable, possibly, just how everything about this guy's expressions screams fake. Like an actor playing a role.

"I think the radio said something about a, a spill. We weren't really paying attention." Radio, lie. Spill, truth. Attention, lie.

[i_own_this]

Well, not everyone is upset by this turn of events. Bruce Wayne certainly isn't. That may have something to do with the limousine, though. And the music blaring out of the sunroof he's currently perched on the edge of. And the... long-nailed hand reaching up to tug at his pant before dropping back inside the limo, with a giggle.

Come on, guys, no need to be so down. Let's make this a party!

[beautyinbroken]

Oh well, aren't you just interesting up there with your little entourage and limousine. Livvie would be impressed except it's slightly ridiculous and the bus she caught originally is stalled about a quarter of a mile back. So.

"In Brazil they've attempted to make it illegal for people stuck in traffic jams in the tunnels to play music. The cause of the traffic mess up would be gone and people would still be inside, singing and dancing." There, Mr. Wayne. Have a story from a random teenager on foot!

[i_own_this]

Maybe it's intended to be slightly ridiculous. Did you ever think of that, Ms. McKenzie? Hmm?

The prince of Gotham grins quite cheerfully down at this strange young girl who's decided to regale him with a tale of traffic jams in foreign lands.

"Well, thank God this isn't Brazil."

[beautyinbroken]

Considering it is who she thinks it is? Yes.

"You'd probably be fine," she comments, still walking and waving at him. You know, with all the bribes and whatnot. "Have fun!"

[beautyinbroken]

Maybe she's nosey. Maybe it's slightly amusing to see people cooped up in their cars (or outright abandoning them - wonder if they'll still be there in a hour?), ranting and raging at...other people who are also stuck.

Oh, Gotham. Livvie loves you so, except when she doesn't and would like to chuck the lot of you into the ocean.

So she's peeking into cars, grinning at kids and shrugging at irate adults and...oh hey, it's a Dan! Have a waving Livvie, Dan!

[goshdarnniteowl]

You know, let's be perfectly honest here. With the way Dan's month has been, and the fact that he only met Livvie once?

He has no idea who this girl waving at him is.

But, hey, okay. He can smile and wave back.

[beautyinbroken]

Well Livvie remembers you. Granted, she's never before or since made anyone turn quite that shade of red so that might help (or hurt) things.

Poor Dan.

She stops and motions that he roll down the window. All the intermittent honking and yelling? There's no way she can be heard over all that and through a window.

[goshdarnniteowl]

Vaguely familiar teenage girl is gesturing for him to roll his window down! Well, okay...

He does this, in fact. There's jazz playing on the Scion's stereo.

"Can I help you?"

[scratch9]

Aw, what the hell.

You try running to the natural foods store to pick up the good cat food (and maybe a few other, more clandestine errands) in your tricked-up black Jaguar (with purple upholstery!), and look what happens.

Well, at least she's got the stereo. And Mahalia Jackson. Still, at times like these, she wishes she smoked cigarettes.

[i_own_this]

Well, Bruce can't really help with the cigarettes, but how about a drink?

He caught sight of the Jaguar, and the driver, from a few lanes away, and... hey. It's an excuse to get out of the limo and stretch his legs, right? He tells Tasha and Lexi that he'll be right back, he just thinks he sees an old friend -- no, don't worry about it, stay here -- and grabs two cans of good ginger ale, and goes trekking across the backed-up road to Selina's car. Tap tap tap on her window, with a big, beaming grin.

Hi!