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John signed as he kept himself sequestered to a nearby alley not far off from where he specified. The tension was getting to him. Would anyone recognise him from the TV reports? Would the sovereigns men get here before police came and he found himself in a nightmare he didn't want to think about? Was that pidgeon John just saw flying past looking at him funny like before?
C'mon. I can't wait forever you know.
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A strong wind blows through the alley and knocks a pile of newspapers off of what appeared to be a pile of rags, but what is actually a grubby, elderly little homeless man of indeterminate age and racial heritage. He looks at John warily, then reaches into his pocket and produces a bottle of Mad Dog 20/20...an empty bottle. He snarls and launches it at the wall adjacent. "I can still hunt if the big dogs will LET ME! You know?" He looks at John, his drooping, bloodshot eyes trying to focus. "Hey, what you, what you doin in my alley, pal? Hey, you got a quarter? Hey, hey, you got a drink on you, man? I'll give you a quarter."
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John scowled as he rummaged through his pockets. he didn't have time for this crap after all. "Here, have ten dollars." He said as he gave the homeless man the money.
Turkleton you turkey bastard! Where the hell are you?!
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Arriving at the intersection Harry had texted to him, Marcus looks around for Mr. Gears. Spotting him in a nearby alley, he pulls his Jeep up next to the tall Manikin. "Hey Mister, need a ride?" Despite his words, his face is serious as he motions the clockwork man into his Jeep.
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Finally! The Clavary arrives!
John felt just a fraction of relife when he saw Marcus pull up. While he admits he didn't like the expression on the Metalflesh's face, it was still someone. "Yes, I do. Was really all John said as he made his move over to the passanger side door.
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Once John is in the Jeep, Marcus shows him the text Harry sent. "You can fill me in on the way..." Marcus cracks a slight grin. "...fugitive. Was there a one-armed man?" He drives over to the Days Inn as he listens to John's story.
Harry's Text
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John took the phone off Marcus and had a look at it. At least the Summer king was better at delegation than he initially thought. "Its basically a convoluted story of whisky, misunderstandings and a idiot of a new arrival that just showed up in Sacramento." John said as he slipped off his Trench coat, put the seat back to lay down then covered his face with his eyes like he had a headach.
"I'll give the full story once we meet with Turkleton. I hate repeating myself after all."
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"Fair enough, John." Marcus drives the rest of the way to the motel in silence. He pulls into the Days Inn parking lot and turns to the other Elemental. "You'd best stay put. I'll get us a room. Have you got any cash on you?"
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"A little bit, only enough to scrap by." John expalined as he did his best not to be seen by anyone outside the truck. "Better hurry though. Last thing I need is more shit hitting fans."
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Marcus pays for a room and gets John into it as discreetly as possible. Deja vu. Once inside, Marcus texts Harry with their room number before turning on the television and settling into a chair. He had nothing to do but wait for the Summer King to arrive.
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