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 Posted: Mon Oct 17, 2016 1:37 pm
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Nothing was really normal even a month after the faerie ball.
Well, alright. Nothing had ever been normal at all. The most exciting thing to happen had been getting into a car crash, and that was just - well, not fun. There were different variations of exciting events and that one tipped dangerously towards the Not Fun sector of things.
So Thorne decided, of course, why not, you know, let Shiloh drive the car.
Literally.
He wasn't really sure how this happened, or how he got (read: tricked) Shiloh into the drivers seat, but whatever - it couldn't be that bad, right?
Thorne himself lazed in the passenger seat, one arm thrown over his head and the other pinned to his chest in a sling. Something eerily like electro-swing was playing on the radio. It was 2AM.
"I don't care where you lead us," Thorne said, "It could be McDonalds or a five star restaurant. I'll pay as long as you get us there, though."
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Posted: Mon Oct 17, 2016 2:35 pm
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Shiloh had welcomed the idea of a late night car right. Usually he'd be asleep at Jamie's, but sometimes he found himself meandering around Coalsmoke in the dead of night, sometimes to sleep over, sometimes to hang out. He didn't mean to get restless (and he'd been getting better about it), but Melany still liked to plague his mind. Court still liked to plague his mind.
Suffice to say, winding up in the drivers seat of Thorne's car wasn't necessarily where he expected to be. Sure, a midnight munchie run sounded phenomenal, but this isn't what he meant when he had suggested it. Then again, Thorne didn't look all that capable of driving anyway, what with his arm slung up and his eyes portals to death itself. Shiloh sympathized with the feeling.
"Which one is the break again?" he looked awkwardly down at the steering wheel in front of him, feet testing the pedals. With the car still in park, he pressed down on the gas, eyes widening at the sound of the engine screeching, hands immediately grappling the wheel, though they remained stationary, "U-Uh, ********, never mind I got it."
But did he really? The answer was no. Jamie would absolutely slaughter him if he knew what the ******** he was doing right now, but hopefully he wouldn't crash the car and they wouldn't have to talk about the who what when where why in the emergency room. Besides, the McDonalds was right down the street, so how bad could it be, right? He'd played games where you had to drive cars and beat people up and s**t, and they never got arrested for swerving all over the road. Plus it was late. No one would be out and around. Probably.
If they were, they'd do well to avoid Shiloh ******** Beaumont.
"The ******** does 'n' stand for?" he was looking at the shift knob, which was currently set to 'p'. 'D' meant drive then, right? Probably. 'L' was another unfathomable mystery to him.
"Whatever. Stupid ******** s**t." he shifted the gear into drive after what felt like an eternity. <******** you." he said to no one in particular.
He was especially worried when he found that the car moved without his permission. He slammed on the breaks. He lurched forward. This was going to be fun.
At a snails pace (he preferred to think of it more like a turtle) he slowly pulled out of the driveway. Then, since no one was around on this dinky a** road by all the warehouses, he floored it.
word count: 427
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Posted: Tue Oct 18, 2016 7:12 pm
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"TURN?" Shiloh slammed his foot down on what he presumed to be the breaks, except it was still the gas, but he blessedly had enough time to whip his foot on the adjacent pedal anyway. The car screeched to a halt, probably loud enough to wake up anyone in the immediate vicinity, and Shiloh immediately lurched forward. Thank god for seat belts.
He definitely looked a little ruffled, his hair fluffed out and his eyes wide and nervous and exhausted. Releasing his foot from the break, the car crawled forward, resulting in what was probably the slowest turn ever witnessed to mankind. "Huh?" he started, "No...? I thought that's what this was supposed to be."
Wasn't it obvious he had never been behind a wheel? Whatever, Shiloh could totally do this. He didn't have faith in himself, Thorn probably didn't either.
"Is it always this dark? Oh wait..." he fumbled around the front of the car, trying to find whatever magical switch would turn on the headlights. He squinted through the dark again, "I mean, I can kind of see..." never mind that most of it was making sure other drivers could see you. By some miracle, he flipped on the brights.
"Oh. Neat." Woe be to whoever came up on the opposite side of the road, because those weren't going to come off. "I got this s**t now. Where's McDonald's?" Somehow it was a lot easier to remember his way around outside of a car. Lightly tapping his toes on the gas, the car lurched forward awkwardly, but at least it wasn't the zero to sixty from before. "Is that a deer? Holy ******** was some weird s**t out here by the abandoned warehouses.
word count: 713
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Posted: Wed Oct 19, 2016 3:59 pm
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Thorne, who was not wearing a seatbelt, went careening forward when Shiloh hit the brakes. His face slammed into the dashboard, butt slipping off the edge of the seat and knees going up to whack him again in the nose. By the time Shiloh was inching forward again, Thorne was in more pain than he'd been in in the actual car crash.
Everything hurt.
"Oh my god," Thorne said weakly from where he had gotten stuck in a mess of limbs and trapped arms and feet between the car seat and the dashboard. He managed to wiggle around enough so that his long legs were thrown up onto it, and his head was resting against the leather.
"Well I think you figured out go and stop all by yourself," Thorne pointed out dryly. "Remember to use your blinker and stay on your side of the road. I mean - " Were there even division lines on these roads? They were so old... "Remember to ******** yield, too. And don't hit the deer, Shiloh, it didn't do anything to you. It's innocent. ********, what if it's Lady? Whatever, don't hit the dear."
It was very obvious, in this moment, that Thorne was not going to move from his new position.
"Um," he added, articulately, "I think you take another left, and then a right? There might be a traffic light up ahead. Green means go and red means run it but only if there isn't a cop around - " Thorne sucked in a breath and then wheezed, "No, that's wrong. Chris is going to kill me. Red means stop. Orange means don't kill my tires in the process of stopping."
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