TOUCH / TERRIFIED !

alec was a little out of it, though, when wasn’t he? his brain was almost always fried from the ditch weed he smoked 12 hours a day. so he didn’t notice parish running after her dog until she yelled for his help. nothing more sobering than someone calling out for help. his head snapped around to see the dog that was running away from her. “shit, yeah!” he called out, starting to run after the dog. he didn’t care what she would owe him, alec wasn’t one to turn down helping someone, especially when it came to helping out a pet. “i’ll take this way, if you come up behind, we can corner her,” he gestured vaguely in the direction he was going to go, hoping to cut off the dog in the process. 

“Not so much to my face,” Taru replied blandly. When she rolled her eyes, a short-lived grin fought for leverage at the corner of his mouth—all the warmth of a serrated knife’s edge, but with a real dose of humor. He didn’t dislike Parish. They had an understanding. And hell, he might go as far as to call them… friends. He guessed. The word stuck to the top of his mouth uncomfortably. He was never in search of those, but they still seemed to fall into his lap now and again. Taru took the box from her with two hands. It wasn’t that heavy. He lifted it up to his ear, giving it a little shake like a kid who’d snuck down for a peek at his Christmas gifts. “Sounds real fancy,” he said at the telltale sound of metal against metal. But he didn’t actually shake it that hard. Taru gave a fuck about whatever she brought. The acceleration on his goddamn money pit of a car was trash. And it stalled once a fucking week. He’d gone up and down trying to find a solution: changed the oil, rear differential overhaul, picked apart the engine to shit, checked the distributor, blah blah blah. Parish had been helping now and again. Nothing seemed to work. Their next best guess was the suspension. He had parts for that, sure, but none that fit his particular piece of work. Not a lot of Cams came through, and new stuff was expensive. Open it already, I heard you’re on the clock. He conveniently ignored her, dropped the box on the workbench with a thud, and opened it. He blinked. “You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” he started, voice almost angry-sounding in his incredulity. Though he didn’t actually feel any anger at all. It was front upper A-arms. Not a new sight in general, but these were different. He picked up one of the pieces to eyeball it and weigh it in his hands. Nearly identical to the ones on his car, but in far better condition. He tried not to get too excited. “So where in the shit you’d get this?”

          “You know what I mean.” Banks replied with a roll of his eyes, not taking the other seriously even though he had been serious about not wanting to get mixed up in Parish’s latest project. It always meant more work for him, something that he was used to the more time that he spent at her place rather than his own. It was somewhat quieter, in a different way, and Huck seemed to enjoy the space since Banks hadn’t seen head or tails of him in a few minutes. 

Which meant that Banks was overstaying his welcome thanks to the dog, or a lack of desire to be anywhere else at that point as he stared at Parish for a moment longer. Reluctantly, he moved towards where the other was with a muted expression even though there was some amusement underneath it all. “It would take you avoiding me to even get close to needin’ to stalk you, if that’s what you’re going for here.” He knew that it wasn’t as he moved in close. “Five minutes an’ I get to keep all my fingers.” 

“You’re so funny.” Eyes rolled again as she clearly ignored about half of what he said, the only important part was that he agree to surrender to her demands. A smile offered, bright, and almost too damned sweet to be sincere, before she patted the dirt around the plant she’d been holding in place. “Hold this just like I was, just for a minute.” It sounded convincing, even as she waited for him to oblige. Once he had, she would continue to mess with the plant, eventually filling in the rest of the dirt in the hole she’d dug, hands still ridiculously dirty. “You’re lucky I don’t dump the watering can over your head.” An empty threat, accompanied by the smile.

Taru rolled his eyes at her performance and got to his feet, pulling the rag left over his shoulder down as he went. He wiped the grease from his hands as he walked over to the workbench and turned down the radio—just a little, so Steve Perry’s voice wasn’t rattling his eardrums so much. He didn’t want her to get a big head over it, thinking he wanted to actually hear what she had to say or something. Even though he did. He let out a low whistle, then slowly clapped once… twice… three times, a heavy echoing sound in the relatively small space. “Really had me goin’ for a minute there,” he intoned, then held a hand out. A second passed and it made a beckoning gesture. “So what’ve you got? I’m on the clock.” Not that anyone paid any attention to what he got done in a day other than himself. Well, him and few of his more impatient customers, who didn’t seem to understand that this was a one-man-show and some shit took time if they wanted it done right. 

Outside the Windy Shot, sat on their skateboard smoking- Theo was contemplating what they were going to do with the rest of their day. They had only stopped by to check their schedule for the week and ask for a few days off. There was no telling when the next Panic challenge would be but if it was during one of their shifts, they weren’t coming to work. If they got fired, they got fired. They were honestly shocked they hadn’t been terminated already. Working and reliability were not Theo’s strong suits. 

“Aye, hey hottie, how’s it hangin’?” They looked up with a crooked grin when they heard their favorite partner in crime call out to them. Theo laughed and waved off her words. “That would require me to be home long enough to get a phone call. You’d be better off just screamin’ my name ‘round town, more likely t’ answer ya then. Or bang on my window.” They hated that house and the least amount of time they had to spend in it the better, but if they were there, they were sleeping. Which is why they were thinking about moving in with Alec. “I could use some good news. Lay it on me hard, baby. I’m ready.” They smirked and waited to hear what she had to say. 

She heard them talking, she did. But the minute scream my name was said, that bottom lipped pulled inward with the help of crest whites, biting back the laughter that she wanted to let slip free. Typically, that wouldn’t have made her want to laugh so much, but maybe she’d spent too much time with Riggs or Alec recently. “I’ll send a carrier pigeon or light a fireworks display, since the phone is out, next time.” A chuckle did slip in, since part of her wanted to display just how grateful she was that they got to skip past the awkward stages just like they never happened.

          a day to herself was a rare occurrence for colby, a crushed diamond in a heap of sand. it was like when the sun came out and she found herself thinking that any moment spent not outside was a moment wasted, though that particular opinion had landed her in a principal’s office on more than one occasion. she’d nipped over to the autoshop on the motorbike, pizza hut flag still springing out the back, skateboard tucked between the straps of her backpack, searching for oil, but met with the sound of landslide. for a moment, she just watched ; a person lost in their own vibe was a cool thing to witness. but then it started to feel creepy, so she cleared her throat. “oh, fuck. didn’t mean to startle you. cracking tunes, by the way.” setting her skateboard down on the shop floor, margo began unzipping her rucksack to pull out her roller skates. “okay, so this will probably make more sense to you than it does to me, but basically some punk chick i play derby with said that the reason my wheels are so stiff is they need oil in the bearings?” she said it like it was a question —  but the fact that parish was a mechanic didn’t make them authorised to advise her on wheel bearings, or roller skates in general. still, it was better than nothing, and her skateboard needed it’s bearings oiling too. “i’m not really sure what the fuck she meant, but i thought you’d probably have some oil lying around. maybe we can just pop ‘em out and grease ‘em up real good.”

Banks frowned at the other’s voice, spying the project that lay before them as he considered escaping before they had seen him but Huck was running loose which meant that he was trapped. Even if he believed the dog would find it’s way home, he didn’t want to trust that Huck wouldn’t end up in someone else’s backyard if they had more food to give than he did at the moment. It only reminded him that he needed to pick some things up before he headed home, knowing the monsters would want something or else they’d make his night hell. 

He glanced back to where he’d last seen the dog before turning back towards Parish, already not liking their tone and what it meant he was going to have to do to eventually leave in one piece. Or as close to one as he’d be able to stay. “That only works if I outlive you an’ we both that ain’t gonna happen. So you can keep doing what you do best an’ I’ll do what I do best which is leave you be,” he complained even as he moved towards the other unwillingly. Whatever the reason, he knew that it was far easier to do what Parish asked rather than try to think that he could outthink the other or talk his way out of there. 

“Leave me be is what you do best?” She asked as if somehow he’d hurt her feelings without even having to try. They both knew better, couldn’t be further from the truth, but the act was fun nonetheless. “Is this some kind of who dies first contest? Damn, you must really hate vegetables.” She observed like Parish Vaughn doubled as some sort of shrink on her off days, laugh slipping past lips in the easy, natural sort of way. In the way that said maybe today wasn’t as Fucking heavy as the rest of them, and she was allowing herself a little breathing room this time around.

it was an aimless day for maeve, her cousins were busy with their friends and she spent most of it loitering in stores she couldn’t afford, or walking around houses she’d never be able to afford, so it made sense to go to the garage when she couldn’t even dream of affording a car.  especially since whoever was under the car, was too busy to notice her and kick her out for loitering.

when landslide clicked on, maeve sighed a low huff. it was too good of a song to turn off, or to leave but it was a devastating one to listen to the lyrics. Oh, mirror in the sky, What is love? Can the child within my heart rise above? was the part when the tears started to come no matter how much maeve tried to blink them away. she cleared her throat to try and get rid of that lump and wiped the tears but by then she knew her presence was known. “hey, gotta light?” she asked, making sure her voice could be heard over the song and pulling out the one cigarette she managed to bum off someone during her wandering. “you like Fleetwood?” it seemed obvious but it was at least a way to detract from her own reaction to it.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. The last thing she had time to do was chase this goddamn dog. A full shift at the garage and a few drinks was the recipe for bed, but instead she found herself relying on adrenaline to keep her from stumbling while playing a game of leap frog with what was supposed to be man’s best friend. Truly? It didn’t feel like it right now. Right now, it felt like this little hellspawn, whose life she was responsible for, was sent here for no reason other than assured destruction. Either way, she spotted Alec out of the corner of her eyes and yelled.