01 - I'm gonna kill a motherfucker with a fax machine

[colacherri]

This didn't turn out as planned. Well, none of it did, but this had been a particularly maddening turn of events that resulted in a rather nasty burn on his shoulder from a zapper and the delicious feeling of adrenaline as he ran like hell

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[poisonmyparty]

Have an intake of breath that carries an obscure obscenity and a sweaty, balled up bandanna flung with a vengeance. It flutters to the floor.

Party gestures with the gun, which had been snatched from holster so fast his hand was trembling ever so faintly.

"I will ghost you from the toes up, you motored shit. Next time. Next fucking time."

Kobra peers around Party, sunglasses on tight, expression slack. If the Kid had reached for his own gun, the movement was lost in Party's explosive presence. Then he leans in, whispers something like a hum, that Party Poison shrugs off noiselessly. Ignoring the tense brother, Kobra steps around him.

"We don't have coffee." With that, he crossed over in smooth strides to a booth.

Party runs a hand down the front of his face, streaking sweat with fingerprints of dark dust.

"I think half my heart burned out just now. Fuck." He re-holstered, taking a step in. "The waves were burning hot for you for a while, caught sound you were up to some ballsy shit."

[colacherri]

Cherri's response to all this? An effeminate hand still on his hip, bone jutting out oh-so-slightly and long fingers moving to his mouth, blowing the redhead a kiss before dropping it altogether. His posture becomes more languid, resembling a cat as he hoists himself up onto a counter, eyeing the two.

Whatever he might have thought is hidden under a lazy smile, shrugging elaborately. Cherri's all big movement for little gestures, pursing his lips together in a duck-like fashion before responding.

"Weeeelllll," He draws the word out, tasting it, and then snaps back and simply puts his hands up in an 'I surrender' motion. "I needed new shoes."

And, sure enough, bright white sneakers are on his feet, contrasting the neon blue he'd gotten on his suit. He stretches, yawns noisily, and lays down on the counter.

"Lookin' forward to the wonderful times we're gonna have for a bit, motorbaby."

[poisonmyparty]

"Fuck forbid you just trade for a pair like any honest runner." Party tosses, casting an eye at Kobra, who was quietly emptying his pockets of what appears to be tacks and scraps of paper.

He looks away. Nothing to ask of a guy like Kobra.

"Speakin' of motorbabies, ours'll be out in some dustpile until we can clear up the bleeding rat troubles out this way. Dracs've been popping out of her goddamn ears 'round the diner. Jet and Ghoul have her leash." Party's relaxed some just as easily as he'd popped. He snatches the discarded bandanna, shaking it out and stepping towards said counter. "You need paint for those kicks?"

[colacherri]

"Awwwwwwwwwwwh," Cherri's response is supposed to be a little sentimental, but instead it comes off as rather brash, sarcastic. He has both feet up on the counter and is currently trying to touch his toes, white shoes sticking out against grimy counter top. Never gonna make it, Cherri. You're lanky as fuck.

"Always." The word is absent and Cherri glances over at Kobra before rolling over onto his stomach, staring at Party once more.

"So looks like we're here together, huh? Playin' house. One big happy family with errything and errybody all up in this shit." He winked, kicking his feet up occasionally, staying quiet for a few minutes.

"Did you guys know you're super wanted lately? Like, top priority shit? The fuck did y'all do?"