Watch yourself, Madness is catching

Gavin snorts. He can’t help it.

“What, you going to go full Wacky Races on it, or what?” he asks, and it’s rhetorical, but if it plants an idea in Ryan’s head… well, it’s already caused a glint in Gavin’s eye. He casts his brown-eyed gaze back toward Ryan, and cracks a wicked smile, gesturing lazily with his pistol.

“If you’re going to do that, you’ve got to go all the way with it; you can’t just stop with spikes. I wanna see oil slicks, sawblades, hydraulics that go full over other cars – fifty percent isn’t gonna cut it.

“‘Course, it would probably be easier with a car,” he admits, the momentary openness in his expression nothing but bait as he continues, grinning wider still, “but if you put a sidecar on, you might be able to get some space to work with, and one of the lads can ride shotgun.”

It is... a very tempting set of ideas.

“I just meant the wheels...” Ryan admits, not going any farther than that as he listens to Gavin’s extravagant ideas about the way he could upgrade his bike. Most of the things he says are wildly implausible but as far as he’s concerned it would be magical to have any one of them. An oil slick particularly captures his imagination; not that physics really work that way. Any amount of oil he’d be able to keep on a bike would be too minimal to make any difference on the road.

The hydraulics, though...

     gavin wobbled his head to the beat, swaying in his seat before leaning into the rushing wind, loving the feeling. he felt young, this was the youth that was stolen from him. it was the feeling you’d get on summer break, the air a little warm, but not hot, rushing past his face. it was the feeling of road trips with a long time lover. freedom was a convertible car tearing down a city street.

     at one point gavin catches ryan’s gaze and breaks into a wide grin. a squeaky laugh falls from his lips and he feels powerful. in just a few days he would have to take on a job, he already knew what was expected and it made his stomach turn. but right now ryan was looking at him and the wind was loud but the music was louder and that was enough for him.

     before the car is fully parked gavin lets himself out, hastily unbuckling and hopping over the door as they come to a stop. it’s a shame the song ends though, he’d found his groove before. feet planted on the sidewalk now he gave a spin, still trying to feel the music. sneakers scuff against the ground and when his spin is complete he looks back at ryan with a smile, not the usual shit eating grin but something softer. something that called, ‘hurry up!’

    The car’s rumble tones down in a split second and leaves only the slight hissing, spitting sound of the engine cooling. Ryan sits in the car for a second just to prepare for what they’ll deal with inside; noise and a crowd. He steals himself to push past people to clear Gavin a path to the bar, making people aware of their presence. He momentarily hopes that the owner is in, tonight, and will feel the color drain from their face spotting The Vagabond and The Golden Boy waltzing through his venue like they own it.

    Not that Ryan would ever in a million years run a club.

    Ryan slips out of the car a bit more solidly than Gavin but does pick up his step when Gavin smiles at him while he messes around, spinning here and there. It’s a nearly childish glee and Ryan focuses on it while they exit their chosen parking place to make their way to the club entrance. There’s no reason not to go through the front; even the line stretching all along the wall behind velvet ropes wont stop them from getting in. No sane bouncer in the city would deny Gavin entrance to a club of his choice.

    And no sane bouncer would deny the Vagabond, despite knowing his presence bodes more ill-will than anything else. You won’t catch the Vagabond cutting a rug out on the dance floor.

Gavin scoffs.

“Yeah, well,” he deflects, “I don’t go looking for it like you do.”

While Ryan seems to want to watch him, Gavin seems immersed in the scenery as it goes by. There isn’t much to see out there, not at this hour; most of it is a blur of smog and light pollution, but he must find something interesting in it. He keeps his gaze focused on the horizon, only lifting a hand to scratch thoughtfully at his beard where it stretches up his cheek.

A humourous smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Jesus,” he remarks, “you’re a bad influence, Ryan. I kill about half the time, what more do you want?”

Ryan smiles at being called a bad influence. All his life he’s loved being a bad influence and ever since he pulled Gavin closer to the crew he feels that all the more strongly. “That’s good enough for now.” He says, taking 50% as an improvement. “Half the time is more than ‘never’. Gets us closer to an even footing.”

He pulls out into the left lane finally, tired of the slower folks in the right lane. He keeps a safe enough speed but he goes as fast as he can, passing every so often, just out of habit. He hates going slow.

     a grumbled complaint falls from gavin’s lips but he just moves his feet and lets it be. no need to make a situation out of it. after all ryan was indulging him, the least he could do is complain minimally.

     what starts as a stifled giggle tears into a full blown laugh at ryan’s little bit. they had their moments where they’d argue, gavin had a knack for pissing people off, and sometimes ryan was a bit too uptight but moments like this filled gavin’s heart. for once gavin decides on a seat belt, just for the moment. it might be another story when they’d be making their getaway later. with a holler he sticks his hand out into the crisp air, loving the pressure from the wind.

     with the wind pulling at his hair he turned his head, letting his eyes fall on ryan. his mouth opened but he really didn’t have much to say, so he settled for the silence between them. it was comfortable. instead he reached for the volume dial, who needed to talk when there was music anyway. he cranked it and skipped a few channels. something definitively pop, a lot of drums, loud vocals - desperate sounding. he liked it.

     everything felt alright. he may have been stuck in los santos but at least it was with people he loved.

    There are no arguments from the driver about the choice of music, though Ryan wouldn’t have chosen this particular station or song; Gavin seems to be enjoying himself and it won’t be so long a ride. Ryan doesn’t get the wind in his hair or on his face but he doesn’t mind it so much, the mask is a second skin these days and at this time of day with busy streets he hardly wants eyes on him. Even if Gavin isn’t recognizable on first glance the mask is; people give them their space and Ryan enjoys the reactions more than his own driving. He knows the club, with people stuck in even closer quarters with them, will be even better.

    When he has the chance he makes sure to glance at Gavin, to watch his face, to enjoy what he can of this. There’s no reward at the end, no prize for a job well done after their event tonight. More likely they’ll get a shouting-at from Geoff, but Ryan thinks it’ll be worth it. 

    Considering all that, the club looms closer way sooner than Ryan wants it to.

    With the doorway close to the street there’s the faintest beat of bass from within the walls, but Ryan doesn’t bother letting anyone take their car and he doesn’t try to find something open on the street to park in. If there’s going to be fire there will be crowds, if there’s crowds the street will be a wall of people; there’s no getaway if there’s nowhere to go.

Gavin has the common sense, once they get going and start out on the road, to bring his hand, and the gun held in it, back inside the vehicle. He still leans out the window like a dog, though, hair rippling in the building wind and his elbow obscuring the side view mirror.

“And I’m not going to, Ryan,” he yells back through the window, either unable to take a compliment or still, somehow, offended. “That’s the difference between me and him.”

Ryan’s question goes unanswered for a moment or two, long enough that it seems possible Gavin didn’t hear him at all. With the wind blowing across his ears, it wouldn’t be a stretch.

Eventually he shrugs, and it seems more likely he was distracted by the road, or the view, or whatever was going on in his own head.

“Eh,” he says, noncommittal. “They threatened me, so they had to go. It wasn’t that complicated.

“It’s not like you haven’t done similar shit.”

“I was only asking, not judging.”

Ryan lifts both hands off of the wheel to put them in the air, as if defending himself against Gavin’s brusque answer. He only puts them back to avoid drifting into another lane of traffic which is currently occupied. “Like you said, I don’t have room to judge.”

He drives at a comfortable pace- they’re still a bit away from the nearest restaurant of any kind that isn’t just a gas station with pickled eggs in a glass jar on the counter. “It’s just that you told me once you weren’t a Killer, even though that’s more than once now you’ve proved otherwise. I’m just hoping you embrace it, really.” Ryan smiles, taking his eyes off of the road.

Gavin slides into the passenger seat easily. Setting one gun on the dash, he pulls the door closed and rolls the window down so he can dangle an arm out, hanging his head out into the cool night air.

“Noo,” he protests with fake offense, “not as bad as Jeremy. Jeremy would’ve gotten blood everywhere, or mud, or something. The car’s clean because it’s me.”

Gavin seems quite proud, taking the gun off the dash and waving it in offering to Ryan when he climbs in – as convenient as it is to have two guns, aiming both out the window of a little sedan is not.

“So, you’re welcome.”

Climbing into the car is an adventure; a gun waving in his face that he snatches out of habit and a Gavin in the Passenger seat grinning like he’s a puppy who’s just done something spectacular- like chew up a tennis shoe. Ryan huffs out a laugh at the sight and drops the gun into his lap, sticking the keys in the ignition and starting the car up with a low hum.

“Thank you for not being Jeremy entirely.” He says, shaking his head all the same. “You are being much cleaner than usual. You haven’t dropped your things everywhere and anywhere yet.” 

Pulling off onto the dirt road to merge back into the street is easy, more than one lifetime driving has everything on autopilot, so Ryan pays more attention to Gavin than to the road.

         It hadn’t taken long to grab his first aid kit from his bathroom considering it was ALWAYS fuckin’ out and laying around somewhere. Thankfully, Michael had the dignity to at least keep it organised and in the box for reasons such as this. Stepping out of the door to glance over and find that Ryan had LISTENED to his directions. No argument, no smartass comment. He just listened. 

        A surprised, yet PLEASED noise accompanying his shrug as he made his way over. Glancing around his apartment when Ryan pointed out that he OBVIOUSLY wasn’t a fuckin’ animal. “Thats because I give a shit unlike him.” A chuckle, dropping the box on the table next to him as he began rummaging through the supplies. “Do you seriously think I look like a plant guy ?” Turning to Ryan, grin at the ready to then quickly shoot him an unimpressed raised eyebrow to emphasise his point. 

        “Listen, I’m bettin’ you’re not telling Geoff what happened – but you do know he’ll find out when he sees the MASSIVE hole where the station used to be so… good fucking luck with that.” An attempt at a warning as he looked him over, focusing on where he had assumed most blood was coming from only to find mostly DRIED blood. “ – Are you even injured or did you just CAKE yourself in everyones blood ?”

    "Anyone can be a plant guy.” Ryan quips back, having heard the same said to him as some point. He has one house plant, it’s fake. Easier not to have to bother watering it; less likely for the stray animals he picks up occasionally to destroy it while he has them in his care. Michael seems very much like a plant guy- a well put together apartment, organized, an attempt at normalcy. Plant Guy for sure, with the lack of pets. “I don’t know your deepest darkest secrets. Maybe I’d cut you open and find succulents.”

    With the odd, morbid turn of thought Ryan shifts, uncomfortable in the slightest amount at the idea of Geoff realizing the chaos he’d caused. It had been a bit... impulsive, he’ll admit. He’s not quite sure what came over him, but spraying gasoline on the police headquarters and then lighting it on fire had seemed like a good idea at the time. The grenade launcher that followed was mostly to try and escape the trouble he’d gotten himself into- it had only left a little hole. And a lot of overturned cars. 

     Ryan sighs and lifts a hand to his face, leaving yet more streaks in the greasepaint. “I will admit it lacked planning.” He says, only to be distracted by Michael’s question. He has to pause a moment and look down at himself, shifting this way and that. He’s sore, shoulders bruised from using the grenade launcher and back aching, knees aching from running, rushing off on his motorcycle. It takes a particular shift in a leftward direction to make Ryan wince and then turn, revealing the charred back of his shirt and the burn there where his accelerant of choice chose him instead of the station it was meant to be burning.

     fingers slid over the car’s exterior, careful not to leave any finger prints as he admired it. he’d adopted gold but he had to admit how mesmerizing the glistening black looked on a car. it wasn’t like he made a habit out of driving anyways though so he didn’t often have to mull over a car’s color.

     the teasing brings a wide smile to his lips and a sharp chuckle, it was all in good fun. he moves towards the passenger’s side, hand settling on the handle. when he’s addressed his head raises and he looks at ryan.

     “always,” he confirms, lifting the bottom of his shirt a bit to show off the flash of his pistol. maybe it wasn’t a good idea to carry such a reflective weapon but if ray had made do with a bloody pink arsenal then he’d manage with gold. with that he pulls open the door and hops in, sinking into the seat easily. almost too easily.

   Ryan nods at the confirmation the Gavin is armed. He wants desperately to say something about the golden gun but refuses to open that particular can of worms and instead slips into the car himself. He adjusts the kerosene bottles by shoving them to Gavin’s side of the vehicle, letting them clatter around at his feet while Ryan gets the car started up. It has a vibrant, rumbling purr; Ryan does like making sure his get away cars have decent get-away potential.

   “This is your captain speaking. Our destination today-” Ryan jokes, as he presses the button overhead in the car for the garage to open up. “Is downtown Los Santos; Eclipse Lounge. Please keep all hands and feet inside the vehicle while the ride is in motion; unless you really wanna enjoy yourself.” He presses another button to send the car’s roof moving backwards, opening up the convertible. 

   “And remember to buckle up.” 

                 gavin’s eyes are WIDE as he watches ryan’s advisors file in, all holding things he’s never seen before and judging by the look on geoff’s face, geoff hadn’t seen them before either. the jester shuffles awkwardly where he stands, wanting nothing more than to stand in a far corner like he normally does and watch from there but he’s also INTRIGUED as to what is going to be presented. he can see the now familiar red tracks running along the objects and he wants to see MORE. he’s well aware this presentation is for geoffrey – not himself – but since seeing the small brooch lighting up on the practice yard, he’s already hooked.

❝  before you start, my fool has something he wishes to present to you,  ❞  geoff says calmly, gesturing to say that gavin has his permission to step forward. gavin does just that, moves forward, arms outstretched in front of him to give ryan the book on redstone that he’d found in the library. he doesn’t say a word, just waits until its taken before scuttling back to the seat geoff had pulled up for him. he shuffles a little in his seat, UNCOMFORTABLE with some of the strange looks he’s receiving from the redstone kingdom’s advisors. he SHOULD be used to receiving such looks, that’s all he’s had since day one among humanity, since he left the creepers and the forests behind him BUT they never really get easier. it’s a constant reminder that he stands out like a sore thumb and people aren’t trusting of those that are different.

❝  and pray tell, what is the real reason ?  ❞  geoff asks, prompting for the meeting to begin now that the pleasantries were over and done with.     

   Nerves are running wild among Ryan’s advisers and council members, though they hide it so well it’s easier to see them as aloof and distant. Very few of them were ever born to be noble and they hold their acts of nobility up like shields while in kingdoms far from home; they pretend that they have always been noble, always been high born, but truly they are all actors. All the world is a stage for those who change their fate; for those holding onto redstone designs for their king, all around the table, the spotlight is on them, especially.

    Ryan’s turns his head curiously when Geoff declares his fool has something for him, eyes trailing to Gavin and noticing his change of clothing to a more formal event. He’s distracted enough that Gavin is close before Ryan notices the book, hands closing around it while Gavin is already scrambling away back to his chair. The odd looks from his council are mostly in response to the curious look on their king’s face- if anyone in the room considered that The Mad King could be emotional; this is what emotional would look like. Ryan’s fingers trace the carvings in the leather of the book’s cover and he can read the Redstone circuitry in their shape. An older book, one he’s never seen in his own Kingdom’s library. “I thank you, then. It will be put to good use.”

    Geoff seems to want to move the meeting along and Ryan has to steady himself, readying himself back to what he intended to do here today. His mind is alight with the new book but he knows he must focus so he sets it down on the table before him, not even wanting to risk handing it off to someone else. He wants to keep it close.

    In a manner of presenting, Ryan stands and gestures to the devices his council has before them.

    “The real reason sits before you. Redstone has been used in every kingdom for centuries to power minecarts and lamps, but in the past the mechanisms have been slow and somewhat unreliable the farther it is taken from the redstone kingdom. The magic grows weaker with distance, but I have a pruh-proposal.” Nervous, Ryan flubs the word and tries to move past it as quickly as possible. “Mica, if you please?”

Gavin’s grin comes back with a vengeance. Not batting an eye at the box of snacks, he beelines for his goal: reaches in and takes hold of the grips for both pistols, coming out of the trunk brandishing them proudly, muzzles skyward.

His mouth makes childish shooting noises, each gun lifted in turn. There are some antics he’s definitely not above, and pretending he’s a modern day cowboy is one of them; if he only had the saddle-sore walk down, he might even make a convincing show of it. As it is, he gives up quickly to check the clips, grab an extra box, and then step back from the trunk, letting Ryan close it for him.

“All right, let’s get going,” he says, moving around to the passenger seat. “Or did you want me to drive?”

Ryan was not prepared for the cowboy noises, to be quite honest. They’re so out-of-character for Gavin that he takes a moment, to stare, eyes lingering on the way Gavin hold the guns more confidently than he has ever before in ryan’s presence. He seems... Well, to be quite honest he seems like a totally different person.

Maybe it’s the high of the fight, whatever he pulled tonight that had him covered in blood and demanding more. Ryan, silently and to his own self, decides to watch a little more closely from now on. With any luck maybe he’ll figure out what has Gavin so riled from one little late night exposure to the dangers of Los Santos.