Driving Music!

July 18, 2014:

Rant gets herself a new and very special client in the form of "Guy" (a disguised and very drunken Taskmaster)

NYC

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

<Contigency T>: Tinkr out of twn. U been recommended. Give me a meet loc.

<Contigency T>: I pay good.

Those messages were sent hours ago, Taskmaster now waits in Gotham just outside of Aparo Park leaning against a black VW Jetta. His Image Inducer in full works:
He currently appears as a middle-aged man with a paunch, balding head, glasses and a suit an accountant would be expected to wear. He is holding a long neck of Old Düsseldorf (the merc's beer of choice) it's not wrapped but this side of Gotham? Who cares. It doesn't exactly fit his projected image but it's amusing to say the least.

"Mel! You got a message! You got a job waiting for you in Gotham!" Says her shop boy. His name really was Shop Boy, for jokes sake, plus he thought it sounded a lot better than Joseph. "Is it her again?" "Nope. Probably some guy who knows that guy who knows your guy again. I'll say you're on the way. Hurry up, we're getting broke."

That was two hours ago. And this is now. Rant thought it would be alright to wear a scarf and a baseball cap, covering her nose and face, hair tucked up into the cap as best she could which makes the NY style fabric look a little bit bulky. Backpack on her back, head hung low, she keeps her phone out as the other part of her runs through the surveillance cameras that might be in the area. Image distorted, check. She waits at the predetermined spot, her hand reaching to cover her scarf riddled mouth, forcing a few heavy coughs so that she'd look like a person who's concerned about spreading germs, instead of a total jackass who's up to no good.

Cough cough? What kind of signal is that.

The 'Accountant' takes another slug of that beer before belching and tossing the empty bottle in to the backseat of his car and then proceeding to snatch a suitcase from inside. A casual stride towards the scarf and ballcap, not his stride either, he watched the guy who owns this 'image' do this goofy walk.

"Hey!" Nasal voice, not very strong sounding, the disguised mercenary presses up his glasses and grins a lopsided grin at Rant. "You who I am supposed to meet?"

Gah, this is stupid. She was getting hot underneath all of that gear. If she paid attention to her fathers teachings, she'd have adjusted her temperature by now! Ah well, it was for the birds. That minor frustration causes her to kick a rock, it was a tiny one that sailed a little too far and pelts right into a mailbox with a slight *TING*.

Ready to turn to find a place to sit and wait, she was stopped by a 'Hey!' and turned, her gaze impeded by her cap which was soon fixed by a tilt upward of her chin. "Ayup." No sense in changing her voice. "Sorry I'm late. Got a place where we can do business in private?"

"That is awful trusting of you." The guy says again. "My client told me I was meeting you but I 'spose we can find a place." He holds up the suitcase and shakes it, "I'm not supposed to let this out of my sight." A tip of his head back to his car. "Come on. We'll go find somewhere to park, you got the tools you need? I mean, this is some pretty high tech stuff. I hope you don't need anythin' fancy. If so, you gotta pick us a spot. I'll drive."

"You don't seem like the sort to do anything.. terrible." Though, she did have to wonder if she was being a little bit reckless or not. Getting into situations with strangers offering candy in the form of electronic goods. That'll be a headline for the books. As he holds up the briefcase, she focuses on it, her eyes acting as a camera lense in preparation to scan until he mentions the car. A Jetta. Cute.

"I have everything I need in my bag." She lies, then begins to follow. "I really just wanted to sit down and disrobe. The car is fine, you can keep driving if you like and I'll do everything inside. Unless we need a wall jack. Then I suppose we can get lunch somewhere and chill." Yeah, she was way too trusting.

"Nah, I'm a nice guy." The Accountant chuckles before pounding a fist in to his chest and making a noise like he is fighting off another belch or trying to force one out.

"C'mon."

To the black Jetta they go and he kicks open the back dopr to slap two empy beer bottles off the seat before motioning in, despite that suitcase being full of high-tech awesome he just throws it in. "Figure if you're gonna do it in the car, you may need some room." Once shes inside he walks around to the drivers seat and hops in.

"Disrobe? Who talks like that." Joking with her as he waits for her to sit down.

She tilts her head then shrugs her shoulders. "See?" As if that was the main reason of her point about being trusting. The guy was sort of a.. weirdo, but she deals with weirdos on a daily who need their laptops fixed due to viruses. Porn. Lots of porn. Ayup.

She follows him to the car, her nose wrinkling beneath her scarf as he 'cleans' the backseat. It didn't take her long to climb into the back, accidentally slipping a foot on a stray bottle which makes her tumble just a little into the seat. "Well, I don't want to swear or say.. 'Hey, I gotta get this shit off.' Gotta stay professional, yanno?"

There was a little grunt here and there to wriggle herself out of the backpack, then shifts it in front of her so that she could rest it on the seat next to her. A slight nudge of her foot to knock the empty bottles beneath the seat, and a quick unzip of her jacket, tug of the scarf, and knock of the cap reveals dark brown hair for days and a breathable nose and mouth, which was quickly wiped off due to a little sweat.

"Man, totally feels better. Alright, start driving and tell me what your boss needs me to do." Out of sight now, and in the backseat of a car allows her to pull the rest of herself in, no need to distort her image from prying eyes. She's somewhat covered now.

"Professional? Yeah, I'm all about being pro." The man says wryly perhaps being sarcastic or thinking he's making another joke. The Accountant's engine turns on along with the radio which seems to be very loud thrash metal (Arch Enemy to exact). A moment of pausing and he turns it down.
Reaching up to adjust his rear-view mirror he watches her a moment, "You're not a little boy. Here I thought you were."

The car pulls out and they begin to head down Aparo Expressway towards Robertson Avenue. Inside the suitcase is what looks like an arm piece, it slides over gloves and forearm; extremely high-tech, Stark / SHIELD prototype level high-tech to be exact. It's as before mentioned, awesome.

"Careful with that. My employer is very partial to it." His employer being himself but he's all disguised right now and such. "What is your name by the way? The Tinkerer never gave it to us, just a number of a guy who knew a guy who knew you."

There was a little sound that came from her, something that resembled a forced chuckle, but it kind of sounded as if she were choking. She was laughing though. Not well. Just to keep up appearances, really. The loud blast of the music causes her to jump a little, but she keeps eye contact down, focusing on the job at hand and to not rant towards him about the level of music which was soon turned down. Reaching for the briefcase though, she opens it up, and.. just as soon as she does it, she was awestruck. That.. thing.. looked totally awesome! She wanted to keep it!

"Where'd he get this from!" Holy crap! That would look so good on her arm, if she were bigger that is. She pulls the suitcase into her lap and then reaches into her backpack, pulling out a pair of black latex gloves to keep her nanites in check. If she was excited about touching the armguard, they would be too, right?

"I'm Rant. And that's how that usually works, I like to stay low key so I don't be bothered too much by unwanted persons." Her fingers wiggle eagerly as she reaches for the device, carefully pulling it from it's protective padded slot. "Does your boss want me to dismantle it?" Cause she's good at breaking stuff.

"I don't ask." It's an Omni-Tool it manages to solidify 'hard light' at a limited and controlled range. Fantastic really. It looks like it's suffered some direct damage that busted it's frame in to the wiring and mechanics beneath. An arrow to be exact.

"Rant? Interesting name. You can call me, Guy for now. He just wants you to fix the damages, do what you gotta… careful though."

Well crap. She had to use her bare hands for this. She snaps off her gloves then tosses it back into her bag, then goes right back to handling the device. With a squint, her eyes narrow in on the point of damage, then uses her fingers to pry it open further. It was already broken, all she had to do was break it just a wee bit just to get in to the circuitry.

"This shouldn't be too hard. I can fix it and get it running in a couple of minutes." She wanted to tell him to not look back, but he would probably do it anyways. "So Guy, what's it like working for your Boss? I mean, I have a steady employer but I've always learned that you can't stay in one spot forever."

As she speaks, the tips of her fingers extend with slight snapping sounds, creating little pinches to pull the shards of metal from the circuit board. It was painful of course, but it was something that she was used to.

"Couple of minutes? Yeesh." A swerve and he is accelerating between two cars, his window down enough he ssticks his head out and shouts, "Watch where the fuck yer going' jackass. I'm drivin' here." Definitely not the humble looking accountant image, he almost seems kinda volatile. "What was that? Oh ain't so bad. The pay is nice and always good lookin' ladies around to stare at. If you like that sorta thing of course, can't tell with this day and age.

A sudden slam on the breaks and he is turning, "Nah, I like the nomadic lifestyle. Wanna hand me another beer?" His left hand is reaching behind him, over the seat.

The swerve of the car jams her fingers right into the board, cracking it even further. With a quick look up, she stares at the back of his head to see if he had noticed.. and.. if he didn't, she'd go right back to work. She really didn't mind that he was an angry driver, almost all New Yorkers were for good reason. But still.. "I think we should pull over.." She totally changed her mind, she didn't want to damage the thing further, it'll mess up her repair times.

"Nah, not really into that sort of thing with anyone really." The slam on the breaks was just enough for her to stop working on the project all together in favor of a seatbelt. If they were going to crash, she might as well not be used as a projectile that kills a poor, innocent person; that crap hurts. "I'll hand you a beer if you pull the car over. You do know that you shouldn't drink and drive yeah? We'll get pulled over and sent to jail. Well, you will." Cause she'll lie and say she was kidnapped and held against her will. Her unmorphed hand reaches out to slap his palm, then quickly gets back to work. "In any case, the circuit board was cracked all too hell.." ..even though she did some of it.. ".. I'm going to have to soder it back together once I get all the stray pieces out."

"Hah! Will I?" The Accountant chuckles and then shrugs drawing the car up between two buildings and back in to a parking lot. "Now hand me a beer." He isn't entirely worried about a police officer or getting arrested, he's a great driver - he's acquired the skillset after-all. Once parked he glances over the backseat, "My boss probably wouldn't approve anyways. He'd kill us both of that gets too wrecked so parked and peaceful it is." Turning the man begins to toggle radio stations again, he seems to enjoy rock and metal.

Rant had to admit, this guy was kind of weird. He's entire look didn't really fit his attitude, but hey.. a style is a style. She stops working until he was parked and ready, and a beer was soon grabbed up and placed carefully into his hand, she didn't want to break it off on his fingers. "Alright.." Rant finally says, "I need to adjust this seat right here.." She puts the armguard aside to lean forward into the front seat, tugging on the lever and giving the passenger side chair a good shove for leg room.
Once that was finished, she pulls out her homemade soldering tool, then sparks it up to get to work. She didn't much too care about the fumes and the smoke that came from it, her lungs would clear of it all in half an hour. "What's he planning on using this thing for? I really don't need to know but, eh. Conversation, it kills time."

"He's a mercenary. Does a lot of wetwork, training gigs, the like." The cap is peeled off and he takes a swig. The drivers door opens and he steps out to lean against the side of the car, looking in at her as she works. The Accountants lopsided grin has returned. "This is a rough neighborhood, kinda reminds me of home." It doesn't He has no memory of his childhood beyond snippits that may not even be real but it sounded like the thing to say. He is pretty sure he grew up on the bad side of things. "So, how you kow how to do all this kinda fancy techy-nerd stuff?"

"Aha. That actually sounds kind of cool." It was hard to tell if she was paying attention or not, but she does decide to focus once she was done and the brace needed to cool. She puts her utensils back into the bag then leans against the wall of the car, watching Guy as he steps out and leans in. "Well. I did a stint in college, but I guess you could say it's genetics. Always had a knack for this stuff and being sick all the time.. had nothing to do but to read and tinker." Of course, that was just the basic story, she didn't need to get into semantics.

"You can pretty much learn how anything works, all you gotta do is break it first and put it back together." Once the brace was cooled, she rubs her fingers against her palms by closed fist, then picks up the item in question. "If you're interested, I can tell you what books to buy. It's good to expand your noggin instead of being a runner guy. Gimme a sec though, I gotta focus."

"Just pickin' things up. huh? Like that? Sounds ridiculous." Guy finds amusement in this as he takes another drink.

"Hey old man. Got some more in there?" An alien voice, not belonging to Guy or anyone Rant should know.

"Yeah dawg, what else you got in that fancy ass ride."

"I do but that isn't how you ask, kinda of manners is that." Guy and his intimidating looking self is facing down what looks like some local hoods. All saggy clothes and looking like they're out of a horrible rap video. Five of them.

"It really does huh? I should probably find a new way to explain tha.." She quiets down once she hears the foreign voices, ducking her head just a little as she puts all of her focus into fixing that thing. She at least needed to hurry so that she could protect the old guy, he was a bit skinny and lanky to her, probably one punch would fold him faster than it would her. But.. they were just asking for beer..
"Just give them the beer, I'm almost done.." She tries to whisper out, and probably doing a shitty job of it. All the while, her hands seemingly begin to glitter, though.. it was just the electrical impulses of the nanites connecting to the arm brace so that those tiny little computers could get to work at mending the wiring inside.

"No way. These retards wouldn't appreciate it."

"Who you callin' a retard you ugly motherfucker?" The first guy says, his hands shoot up and grab Guy by the collar slamming him in to the side of the sedan.

"Whats this? He gettin' lippy." The goon behind him pops up, "Doesn't know where hes at does he. What you got in your wallet?"

Around the side of the car another face appears pressing to the window, "Check this out. Hes got a bitch in there. Whats that? Some sorta sex toy? Cmon out and play with us instead. Elmer Fudd here ain't got shit on us."

Rant couldn't help but wince at that comment. "Dude.. no.." It was a quiet little whimper, cause pretty much? It was all she wrote. The car rocked a little as he was slammed into it, Rant slowly pulling herself from the seatbelt with one hand as the other continues to transfer the nanites to the object. She was pushing herself, forcing them to work double time at mending the machine within as well as the outside, she couldn't take her time to show that she wasn't all packed with surprises, but.. Guy needed help. His back was about to get broken by a Thug.

As the other one presses his face against the window, Mels immediately whips her head around to give a shake of her head. "No." She didn't have any witty quips, but she does curl her fingers into a makeshift fist, then sticks up her middle finger. "Get away from the goddamned car!" She shouts out, so original, but Selina did warn her that this crap would happen.

"She kinda cute. Maybe hes payin her?"

"This your daughter or something, Fudd?" Asks the first hood. Who then makes the mistake of slapping Guy in the cheek as if to get a response quicker from him. A soggy sound is heard followed by a loud scream then the body hits the ground. Guy just crammed his Old Düsseldorf beerbottle in to the man's eyesocket without so much as flinching.

"Holy shit! Holy shit, you just killed Ronnie!" One of the men exclaims, opposite the car the one who was taunting Rant peers up over the vehicle, "He did what?"

"Look man, he stuck Ronnie in the face! He dead!"

"Self-defense?" Guy says with a shrug before looking down in to the car, grinning at Rant. He's drunk and he is enjoying himself. "Hand me another beer would you?" He asks super calm-like while the remaining for 'gangsters' freak out about their friend.

She was done. All she needed to do was repair the damage to the outside of the brace and then they could leave.

"Guy, just get in the car!" She calls out, looking back at the other and scooting closer to the other side of the door until that squelching sound is heard. This causes Rant to flinch and stare, her eyes widening as she notices the body drop onto the ground, and the screams of one of the men to the other. "Holy shit.. holy shit Guy.. what did you do?!" Rant was totally freaking, so much that she handed him the bottle of beer without thought.

It was her turn to hang her head out of the window as she looked at the guy on the ground, pushing the drivers seat forward without using a latch or lever.. she.. probably broke it but that's okay! She wanted to see what the hell happened! "Holy shit you killed.. woah! Guy, we gotta go!" If they were true blue gangsters, they were about to get shot. Or dragged out of the car and beaten do near death.

"Go? But we're just starting to have fun." Guy replies uncapping yet another beer.

"Oh hell naw." One cliche thug says as he pulls up his shirt. "You're dead." He informs Rant's companion.

"You haven't even drawn yet. You know there is a reason people who actually know how to use a firearm carry like that right?" A blur of movement and Guy is shoving his hand in to the front of the man's pants and curling his fingertip over the trigger. Weapon still /unsafely/ holstered in the man's drawers.

"Oh shit…" The man whispers.

"You see that old fuck move?" One of the others almost yelps to his friend who had drawn a knife out.
Guy's free hand (not in the gangbangers pants) still clutches a beer in it, a beer he is now slogging down again releasing a loud belch after. "Oh shit, maybe one too many."

"N…nobody move." The 'hostage' says quietly very much aware how cold the steel of that Browning HP suddenly is.

Rant was about to go into early retirement after this. She had never seen an old crow move so fast in her life, it was just mind boggling. She tucks her head back into the car to look at her work.. it was fine work indeed but it was a rushed job. Something she'll have to look into later. She didn't bother announcing that she was done, or the fact that she -should- put it back into the case. But what if one of them makes off with it? Screw it, better put it on!

It was a brilliant idea really, for her to slide her arm into the armbrace just so that she could keep it safe. I mean really, it was the best idea yet. One thing she wasn't going to do was to make sure that it was turned on, then that was pure temptation in the face of danger. She leans forward again to open up the drivers side door to climb out of it, at least to assess the situation. Guy had the thug by the balls, not literally, while the others seemingly stayed still. What a mess!

"I know this is fun and all.." Rant starts, attempting to talk Guy down.. "But.. really. We should get out of here. Maybe take that guy with us as insurance. I.. I could get all of their names and stuff, y'know? You don't have to kill anyone else, it's all good, right?"

"Say sorry for interupting your night." Guy says loudly to the thug.

"Fuck you… " Is the response.

"You don't even have your safety on? You are cray cray." Guy carries on. "Now, say sorry."
"Just do it Wayne." One of his pals adds in.

A swallow and 'Wayne' looks around then at Guy. "S…sorry for fuckin' up y'alls night."

The weapon is withdrawn and Guy steps back, waving the pistol at them. "See that wasn't so hard." Opening the drivers door he slides in to it, keeping the pistol trained on the hoods. "Now, you dipshits got ten seconds. " Looking over his shoulder at Rant he winks after ushering her back in to the backseat and the car fires up again, pulling forward quickly before he hits the clutch and pops it around, the brights going on as the thugs all stand there dumbfounded. "START RUNNING BITCHES!" He shouts out the window before popping off a shot. The car engine revs.
"Oh fuck!" Is yelled before they scatter.

The Jetta lurches forward accelerating at the two of them, one of them tripping up on his own pants and shoes ends up rolled over with a squelching thump-thud. "Hah! Was that 10 seconds?" He asks Rant before shrugging. "Fuck it, whatevs. KEEP RUNNING BOYS!" Another shout out the window. "Beer me." He says. The hand holding the pistol now free (he apparently just tossed the weapon in to the passenger seat). "Did you break my seat?" He asks curiously while waiting, realizing he's in an awkward seating angle. "Man… why you do me like this? S'okay. I'll take it out of your pay. Joking about that. Watch this, watch, lookit that one trying to climb the fence." Gas pedal smashed and Guy races towards the fence and it's climber. "Think I can get him?"

"See? Everybody! We're cool!" Good natured nerdy Rant was all smiles and waves with her new vambrace on. She fixed it! Sorta, okay given the circumstances, it was probably a shit job but hey, it looked pretty tip top, right! "Just go home, kiss your mothers, make her dinner and rub her fe-waah!" Being ushered back into the car was probably what was needed; she was going to make up an entire schedule for the guys which included enrolling at their local Boys and Girls club and attending community college. Yup. She was pro-active!

Once in the backseat, she squeezes out of her newly repaired 'toy' and places it back into the case, her eyes glancing up at the ten second announcement, her lips curling into a frown.. "Wh.. whut are you doing.." And then he guns it! Rant was all wide eyed and open mouthed as he chases them down with the car, which buckles and rocks cause.. "Did you just.." Whaaaaa…

Reluctantly, she grabs a beer, her hands shaking as she drops it right into his lap. She totally missed his hand, because this guy was crazy and Rant just started to cry as if she were a two year old denied a delectable nap. His question gets an answer alright (mostly out of fear)..

"Yeeeesssshawhawhaw.." That wasn't laughter in that answer..that was someone becoming scarred for life through tears, snot.. and.. oh god she bit her tongue.. "I'ph dun wiph da phingie I gudda frow up!! " Translation: I'm done with the thingy & and I gotta throw up.

"Gonna what? Throw up!?" Guy yells as his hand swats around for that beer she deposited in his lap, "Don't you dare throw up in here. This is genuine leather… actually I think they ripped this out of a Passat or something… refurbish garbage bullshit from the last gig, ever see a person's intestines spill out, it was very slow that time, kinda like when you skin a deer and you have to get in there and swipe the tendon so it just sorta… oozes out… DO NOT THROW UP!" He barks at her before turning around having to swerve abruptly once again (before they slam in to the corner of a brownstone building).

"Ya made me miss. I never miss."

The vehicle sweeps out on to the main street as a motorcycle evades them, Guy is already manipulating the car back in to a 180 so they can re-hone in on their targets. "Little scumbag shits, threaten me… we were havin' a nice peaceful night too. Gettin' to know my new friend back here. Pisses me off, nice fun night… " The grumbling under his breath persists until he exlaims, "AHAH! There is one of the cock suckers." The car actually shimmies like some animal preparing to pounce the revs forward, snarling across the pavement and sidewalk - what follows is a sickening thump-to-crash sound as a body sails over their vehicle. "Hear that? Sirens. Guess play time is over. GCPD are some real hardasses too, most people seem to be missing teeth and shit when they get hauled in, I rather like all my teeth."

The rearview mirror gets re-adjusted for the millionth time and he glances behind him, "How you holding up? *BELCH*" A hiccup follows the belch and he gets distracted with pounding on his chest. "Mm, that was sexy. You fixed that in record timing, we got to get out and test it though. Lemme take us down towards the waterfront. I seen some old cement drainage lanes that looked empty. Hang tight."

Yup. Frow up. She was going to frow up all over the fracken seats. Just before her stomach made up her mind to lose that burger she had earlier, the sudden jerk of avoiding a very lovely brownstone snapped her belly out of danger. That and the yelling, thank goodness she wasn't focused on the visual of the story. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it.. but you.. you.." *Sniffle-blubbers* She couldn't contain the tears, surely she's heard of people being killed for her work before but actually seeing something like that in action? Nope! Nightmares for days!

Instead of waiting to see which one of the Thugs Guy was going after, she tucks herself behind his seat, arms over her head, metal case with the brace in her place. She didn't strap it in a seatbelt, but.. hell, it was safe and was in no danger of flying out of the window when he runs over a human bump. But, it happened. That loud, fwomp of body vs. metal, a roll and tumble and a face print that Rant happened to see once she looked out the back window. The poor body seemingly flipped in mid air like a rag doll, leaving a nice splattering of blood upon the windshield. And then.. sirens. Fuck the lord.. sirens..

"I quit, I dun wanna play no more! I can't go to jail!" Nope, she wasn't alright back there, she wasn't holding up anything but the seat that he sat in, arms covering her head again all the while crying, probably for her mother. Or daddy. Or someone. This was totally not cool.

"Eh… yeah, you're okay. I don't think that was one of our punks though." The sloppy stubble faced grin of Guy the lunatic can be seen in the mirror again before he looks forward, "I think, my problem is I just ain't seen my lady friend in some time and it's a damn good night to get wasted. You ever been lonesome for someone, Rant?"

Rambling, Guy is actually rambling in a drunken manner until a song pops on, "Oh hell yeah…" The stereo system gets cranked up, blaring through the speakers, causing the seat underneath her to vibrate. Red and blue lights are flashing outside, rain has begun to stream down heavily, a massive downpour that has visiblity cut to nil. But they actually are being chased by the police. How fun is that?

"Oh let the sun beat down upon my face, stars fill my dream.

"Duhn duhn duhn, I am a traveler of both time and space, to be where I have been." Glancing over the seat he peers at Rant and motions for her to hand him the device she just fixed, while… seranading her to Led Zeppelin, "To sit with elders of the gentle race, this world has seldom seen. They talk of days for which they sit and wait and all will be revealed."

"Shit, they're persistent. You'd think I killed someone worth their time." He snaps out of the musical tones (which are surprisingly quite good and he sounds just like Robert Plant). "Gimme the damn Omni-Tool. We'll road test the bitch."

"You just killed a random stranger!?" Though, okay, so the thugs were random strangers but she wasn't talking about those types of random strangers. She dropped her arms from her head to peer out the back, the red and blue flashing lights causes her to duck down again. Awe crap. She couldn't really answer his question, the good thing about being who she is, is that no emotional connections are really afforded, and could be ignored. "No!" She kinda snapped. "Sorry.." She recanted, but it was possibly drowned out by the music.

She was still crying, just silent tears, not the blubbering mess she was a minute ago, the music and the singing and the odd talk from Guy actually helping. Which was weird. She saw people die and music helped. The sound of the rain was actually a bit calming as well, and the bloody window was getting clean so that she could put it out of her mind for now. "I bet there were cameras.." She sadly says, her still shaky hand reaching for the case to pop both latches. There was no sense in being careful with the Omni-gidget, she just snatches it up and carefully slides it over his shoulder, then slides further down into the little cubby hole behind his seat, probably bumping and knocking him forward just a little. Instead of asking him to turn the music down, she does it herself, interfacing with the car itself through the bluetooth connection. The volume slowly lowers, at least to a tolerable level so that she could get work on at least 'helping' Guy lose the cops.
"Stereo is wonky?" Guy grumbles as the sound goes down and his window comes down, leaning forward he braces a knee on the steering column and like a snake twines his upper body out the window holding the omni-tool he just slide on to his forearm outwards, towards the police car. Amazingly he is keeping the vehicle in a straight line. It's almost beautiful as a glowing brilliant light comes in to reality, a shaft of golden yellow that stands out in the Gotham rain drenched streets and then it arcs off of his outstretched hand and lances through the front of the police car behind them causing that vehicle to flip upright on it's nose, a pop outwards as a hubcap flies off and it crashes down skittering across the road to the new music of a broken siren. "YES! You fixed it. I could kiss you." He is saying excitedly as he pops back down in to his seat then jams his fingers in to the stereo face, impatient slams and toggles to get the sound back up, "Eh, piece of shit, just had that fixed too." War Pigs by Black Sabbath begins after Kashmir ends.

A few more blocks and the Jetta is slowly rolling under a bridge by the train station terminal, empty boxcars waiting to be migrated litter the landscape like tombstones. As the vehicle starts to idle in place he is chugging down that last beer she handed him, the omni-tool vambrace worn on his forearm neatly, like it belonged there.

"My employer will appreciate your services, nice and quick, pro like except ya almost puked allover my shit. How much I owe you?"

Just when she was about to separate from herself, to at least set the computerized console on fire to at least save the cops from dying in pursuit, a sound that was reminiscent of an alien invasion causes her to pop her head up to look out the window in time to see the cop car fly. No. Nope. She wasn't going to cry over this one. Honestly, it just was no use. Her hands reach up to smack against her face as she thumps down back into the ground again, her head shaking, somewhat regretting what she had done but.. the Omni-Tool wasn't in her hands anymore, it was really easy for her to just dismiss it right then and there.

"No kissing. That's gross." She mutters out, her hands rubbing at her face to make sure that it was settled, as in, no left over tears or snot that would make her look messed. Her eyes were puffy though, throat a little dry, but beer wouldn't be what would quench her thirst.

"I wanna talk to your employer, like.. face to face." Guy's work ethics were kind of fucked up. She was totally going to snitch. She didn't sound forceful either, like she really wasn't sure about what she's asking. "Cause.. that was totally not cool. Not cool at all. And totally mean. To them, not to me.." But, the price.. she had to think about that. In fact, she was starting to think that this was her last stop, but.. she was too scared to even get out of the car, cause he'd probably run her down too. "Ten million." It was a stretch, but what the fuzz, she wasn't going to her normal self ever again after this.

Guy blinks, takes a long sip and blinks again.

"AHAHAHahahah AHAH" The laugh is deep and rich, genuine even. "Oh man, 10 mil? Thats cute." He opens up the console by the dash and pulls out a couple very large wads of strung together cash, "I didn't buy the damn thing from you, that was just a quick-fix." He grins, "10 mil. Awesome." Then begins to sling her one lump after another, "Sorry boss doesn't do social calls. You can just forward your complaints through me." He winks at her. "That is 35k. That is MORE then enough, I even added extra because I like you."

Rain beats the car, rivulets trailing down it's sides, "Love the rain." He says quietly, "Best weather you can ask for. Makes everything… clean."

Hey, it was worth a shot. "Fine. One hundred thousand, all because I'm currently scrubbing our images and everything else from the database." Mainly hers, but.. she at least had to throw in an attempt at a horrible joke. "Plus I made you laugh just now. It was a good one too." She smiled.. sort of.. catching the money every now and then, deciding.. just for now at least, to keep the complaints to herself. Cause, what if she were to get out of the car? He was going to kill her, especially if she complained, she was sure of it. But.. this is Rant we're talking about.

"Well, you're kind of crazy. And you killed those people for no reason." She pauses, shifting a little bit in the backseat to reach for her backpack. Money goes in, chapstick comes out. She felt ashy. "Though I can kinda see that this is partly my fault because I got into the car with you. But you did kind of protect me, and you move super fast, so that's kinda cool." She grows silent now, listening to the rain as well. And her heart, it was beating in her ears. She was probably going to sleep in the car.

"Also a no, 35$ is whatcha get." Guy quirks a brow, "Fast? No, I just got lucky there. It's not super either, I'm springy for a spongy guy. Where is a good place to drink around here? I feel like I just kicked off to a good night." The empty bottle in his hand is tossed off towards one of the train cars. "Also them douchebags were deserving. Every one of them. Look howthey dressed?"

Guy handwaves in the air as if he has no conscience or care about any of it before fishing out his cellphone, "Hrm, almost have a mil for the Joker? Looks like I got to go do some research for the boss man. Where you want me to drop you off?"

There was a little indignant little huff that came from Rant. Still connected to the Bluetooth through the car, she programs the directions into the navigation system, which springs it to life. It was one of those old, snotty British women voices, the ones that annoy after a while. Thankfully, Rant wasn't that mean. She switched up the voice a little bit, something more kindly and easy on the ears that one that sounded like a total bitch, then she disconnects. "I programmed the nearest bar into your dashboard." She states plainly, then pulls herself up from the floor and onto the seat. "People don't deserve to die because they dress like assholes." Eh.. yes they do, Rant really didn't sound too convinced either way. But still, she wasn't going to sleep.

His words though, caught her attention. A million for the Joker? What did that mean. Eh, something to look at for a later date, when she was well rested, fed, and felt like hacking. "I can walk home from here.. just.. don't run me over.. okay?" Cause if she heard tires squeal in a near distant future, she'd probably pee herself due to PTSD.

"When did you do all that?" Guy questions, no big deal. It's just a car not even his favorite. Maybe that is why his sound went stupid too, "Good deal, you don't wanna get a drink with me? I promise to be nicer." A smile flashes across the man's features then fades just as quickly. "Just as well, we'd drink, I'd get you all sauced up, next thing I know you're walk of shaming it home and I'm being called a cactus or some shit. I forgot how that goes. Pricks? Cactus… " He waves fingertip in a circle then slides in to the drivers seat, "Keep an eye out, boss man can always use Mr. and Miss fixit sorts." That stereo system cranks up real loud, bass drumming through the streets and the vehicle. Rant can hear Offspring playing and the squeal of tires before he rips out of the lot, sailing down the road and obviously heavy footing the gas pedal again. More people will probably die tonight.

Mel slides out of the car easy enough, bookbag in tow which was soon slung over her shoulder. She stands there for a moment, surveying the area with a slight huff. This was a practical deadzone for her. "Just a second ago." And, that was that, he really didn't care anyways. She didn't even have to refuse the offer of a drink, but she did wrinkle her nose in a form of a smile of some sort because she did get that joke. "It's cool, I will." She says tiredly, worn out after tonights events, but wise enough to take a step back as he peel out. Another glance around and a heavy sigh as she watches the backlights of the Jetta, waiting until it fades off, then she begins to walk the tracks. "Crap, should have taken the ride.." But, ah well, a walk will do her good.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License