"I would prefer if you didn't let the interior become soaked."
Correction of dialogue for context, beyond the edit window.
The Dance Continues
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"I would prefer if you didn't let the interior become soaked."
Correction of dialogue for context, beyond the edit window.
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Staring contests weren't exactly an option when neither needed to blink. The Savage raises a brow at Arturo's shallow complaint as he assesses the condition of his clothes; the interior was already bloody soaked.
"Himmelherrgott!" Prosper snapped, closing the door with more force than intended. "Happy?"
Underneath the shroud of inebriation his Beast kept his eyes flicking from the door to the driver, being forced into close quarters once more. He leaned his spinning head against the glass, defeated.
"I do not know the address, I need to look it up."
And get dropped off elsewhere. He would call a cab once he was in the Florin area.
He eyed the bag, "Did you not just say you did not take your indulges home with you?" the sentence was awkward in his state, but the catch was there. He grinned.
Prosper was being a little huffy, but it wasn’t the worst he had ever dealt with. The Lord smile as the Savage acquiesced and closed the door. While Prosper was right, it was a point of order at this stage and it seemed as though the rain had restored some of the Ventrue’s composure. Looked at his own lap were the paper bag was, and with a smile shifted it over and set it in Garrett’s lap.
”A gift, you seemed to enjoy both so much I figured it would be a shame to let you leave empty handed.”
Shifting again the Lord produced Prospers phone so as to hand it back. He had said he would, and so he did. He slid the device into Prospers eagerly awaiting hand and started the car up, waiting for directions to where he would drop the dragon off. His head remained tilted and eyes on the savage as he waited patiently, keeping note of how long it took him to find the address and what he saw flashing across the screen.
”How long have you been in Sacramento, Mr. Prosper? Not knowing your address seems unlike you.”
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The Kindred instinctively jumps as the other moves in his direction without warning. Did he seriously just give him a doggy bag? "I am fine, thank you," he insists. With the other question, he misses the slight nudge as most of his mental faculties commit to focusing.
"Two months?" he says, mentally checking his social Rolodex of college hookups and hanger-ons. There were a couple in the county.
He fiddles with Google Maps in the general area, squinting at a house that probably was where the last party happened. It was amazing how alcohol restored memories from other times you were absolutely blitzed.
Garrett dials in the GPS, sending off a couple of quick texts before slipping it back into his pocket. He dozes for a moment before rejecting the sensation of spiraling, and watches the road.
”I insist, a gift for making you come all this way and having to leave your car behind. It would be rude to not even offer a small gift. Enjoy them, they may help cut through the cloud and bring back fond memories.”
Arturo eased the vehicle forward, and followed the initial directions that Prosper had given him after watching him have so much trouble with the screen. He didn’t want to mention anything as it may be offensive to question his memory again. Instead the first few moments of the drive remained silent, the gentle thumping of rain hitting the vehicle giving them an ambience you could cut through with a knife.
”Just so I don’t miss it, what sort of exterior am I looking for when we get there?”
A simple question, he just wanted to know what the house he was pulling up too looked like, he hated pulling into the wrong driveway, and it wasn’t a test for the anxious boy at all.
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Prosper levels his gaze at the Lance, "Two stories. White with a slate roof," he mutters.
His phone buzzes and he checks the message affirming the person was home, and he responds with the ETA and vehicle description. A sharp laugh when the student asks if she needed to call the cops.
Well at least Prosper knew where he was going, though the scrambling left doubts lingering in Arturo’s mind whether he was being truthful or not, he decided not to dig too deep into the issue. When he heard the laugh his eyes drifted towards the screen that elicited the laugh.
failure
However, there was a certain amount of effort that needed to be put into driving so it didn’t seem possible with how the young looking vampire was holding the phone to see what was being said. It was a shame too, Arturo was a fan of a good sense of humor.
At this time of night, and in the rain the roads were relatively quiet, so they were quickly making short work of the GPS’ route to the house. His mind trailed for a moment to what outcomes were possible when they reached their destination, most of those being cordial.
”I do hope you understand what tonight was, Garrett. Folly or not, it was an extension of interest and enjoyment and as much pleasure as business. I do hope you can see it the same way.”
Another explanation, clearing the air as the GPS gave them the final turns.
”And you can expect to find another invitation for a night out sooner rather than later. Maybe next time you could choose the venue. Either way, I hope you acknowledge the importance of having friends on the other side of the isle. It would be a shame for things to go the other way.”
The car pulled into the driveway of the house. Two stories, white, with a slate roof. The Lord’s eyes hovered on the building, the door, the address, the windows to see if any heads were poking out. If he came by another night who would answer when he knocked…
”And here we are, I hope the ride wasn’t too bumpy.That was a very enjoyable evening.”
The car idles in the driveway, lights off, with Garcia looking over to Prosper. If the Savage wanted to run, the doors were unlocked, and he was more than welcome too.
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Prosper smiles to himself, half out of relief, half out of an inherent smugness as the situation finally seemed to click with the Ventrue. It was probably the closest apology he would ever receive from the runaway violent enforcer.
There had been a long stretch where he wasn't sure if the man was stable enough to consider the consequences of attacking the Dragon; he clearly was drifting from the lack of an anchor. The lack of Covenant presence, the lack of familiarity with the country, the lack of rapport with the distinctly European Ventrue of Sacramento, and leaving his own people because they were slowly eroding his sanity. It wasn't a good position, and Arturo Garcia had nearly broken his attempt at a lifeline for the sake of pride—simply from losing a bit of control over a social exchange. It painted a picture.
The Gangrel regarded him he as exited the vehicle. Sure, whatever, he was a lot of fun. The talk about torturing members of the Ordo Dracul and the constant mockery of his Blood would be dealt with. It was in his nature to help, and this felt like an opportunity to enforce adaptations.
He takes the bag, deciding the kine might appreciate the late night thanks. "This was interesting, Herr Garica. And yes, the company was good," he says, grinning, "We will have to discuss things further. Thank you for the ride."
I think we're good to wrap. Thanks for the great scene!
Good stuff! Was lots of fun!
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