trans_9 | High As A Kite [R for Language] [Open]

Entry tags:

High As A Kite [R for Language] [Open]

Sawyer had been avoiding the city ever since Bella had told him that the Vatican had been all but destroyed during the fighting with the zombies. No one had died, which Sawyer--rather immodestly--accredited to himself and all the work he put in getting the basilica ready for just that kind of occasion. But with the basilica trashed, Sawyer had lost the spot on the ship that he had adopted as his own little castle--even if other, more religious crew members had tried to mosey in on his turf. So, in an effort to familiarize himself with some of the newly opened areas of the ship, Sawyer had been walking around and poking his head into the command deck, engineering, neuropathy, and, eventually, the flight deck.

He spent at least an hour wandering around the deck, looking at all the different fighters, bombers, mechs, frigates, and shuttles before his eyes landed on something that most definitely didn't seem to belong. In one untouched corner of the flight deck stood an object covered up with a protective tarp. It wasn't large, especially in comparison to all the other machines around it. It, in fact, looked rather reminiscent in size to a normal vehicle from Earth.

With furrowed brow, Sawyer wandered over to the "mysterious" vehicle and cautiously took hold of the tarp and gave it a sharp tug only to reveal....

THE MYSTERY MACHINE!!!

Sawyer's mouth fell open as he stared in utter shock at the van in front of him. "No. Fucking. Way," he said, his eyes wide with awe. It was really... No it couldn't be... But it was... It was really the goddamn Mystery Machine.

"Hot damn!" Sawyer hooted as he grabbed the handle on the door and tugged it open--it was unlocked, surprisingly--and started searching for the keys to get the damn thing started. He was gonna be driving the fuckin' Mystery Machine. At least, he would be as soon as he found the keys. He checked the visor--nothing. Under the driver's seat--nothing. Under the passenger seat--nothing. The glove compart...

He had no more than opened the glove compartment when Sawyer's mouth dropped open yet again. He'd found the keys, finally, sitting right smack on top of a large bag of pot--complete with rolling papers--that had been stuffed into the glove box.

"Holy fucking Scooby snack," Sawyer hooted, again.

An hour or so later, anyone stopping by the hangar deck would find Sawyer, driving in circles in an empty corner of the hangar at five miles at hour. The windows were rolled up, and a cloud of smoke filled the vehicle as the meatship's resident a$$hole puffed away on something that was not a cigarette.

[OOC: Please keep to one thread. Thank you!!!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Plays was exploring. When he wandered down to the hangar, he'd hardly expected to find the Mystery Machine rolling around one corner. He was even more surprised to smell a rather familiar smell in the air. He stopped, blinking as the van drove by him, "...dude. is that...?"

Yes, Plays, it is.

Sawyer makes a few more rounds in the Mystery Machine, still going in circles at incredibly low speeds, before he notices Plays standing off to the side and staring at him. Rounding his turn, Sawyer creeps the van up next to Plays and draws to a halt before reaching over to the passenger side to roll down the window.

"Ya just gonna stand there or what?" Sawyer asked, taking a hit from the joint he held in his fingers then offering it to the werewolf.

Tony blinked at the offered joint. Then his face slowly split into a grin and he clambered into the passenger seat, settling back against the rather dingy cushions. He accepted the joint with a nod and took a long hit. He handed it back, exhaling a small cloud of smoke. He coughed once or twice and laughed.

"Dude, it has been so long, you have no idea..."

Technically, he gave it up when he got 'drafted' into the Garou. Of course, now he might as well indulge. Not like there's anyone around to stop him.

"Well, all the more reason not to hold back now, Junior," Sawyer answered, taking the joint and another hit before handing it back to Tony. Shifting the van back into drive, he pressed lightly on the gas and resumed his slow circling and figure-eighting through the hangar.

"S'pose you don't got any tunes from the library on ya, huh?"

"Hey man, I had to fight a war or some shit," he retorted as he took another hit, "That shit was on for real, you know what I'm sayin'?"

He handed the joint back, happily watching the hangar roll past. Sawyer's question jolted him and he blinked, "...shit, no! Fuck, we should go get some."

"Yeeeaaaaah," Sawyer agreed with an enthusiastic nod. They really should. Getting high without music just wasn't as fun as getting high with music. But, then again....

"But then someone could steal our shit," he said, not trusting the idea of leaving the Mystery Machine or the stash of pot alone and unguarded. With their luck, someone from security would probably find it while they were gone and get rid of it and they'd be screwed.

"Call someone!"

Tony sank back into his seat, considering this, "...yeah, you're right. We don't want people to steal this. I mean, this is pretty much the coolest shit I've ever seen. And it's decent shit too."

He tapped his foot as he took another hit, staring at the ceiling for a moment before Sawyer's exclamation got through, "Huh? Oh, yeah. Duh. But who the hell am I gonna call?"

He pulled his omnicomm out and started tapping out an entry.

Sawyer scratched his head, trying to think of anyone on the ship who liked him--or just didn't completely hate him--enough to actually do him the favor of bringing tunes down to the hangar. Jo...nope. Leon...nope. The MacManues...nope. Bel...not a chance in hell.

"Kate!" he nearly shouted. "Kate! Kate! Call Kate!!"

Tony was very proud of his little post and he was settling back to enjoy just how cool the ceiling of the van was when Sawyer nearly yelled at him. He blinked and lolled his head over to star at the older man, "...Kate? You mean hot-superhero-I'm-so-lucky-to-have-her-as-my-girlfriend-Kate?"

"Yeeeeeaaaah. That's the one," Sawyer said with a big nod and an even bigger grin. "I mean, come on, she likes me, she really likes you...and we've got a big bag of weed. She'll love us."

Tony grinned. Fantastic idea. Beautiful idea. Sawyer, you are the best and he loves you man. He lifted his comm ring and tapped on it, "Alright... Hey. Kate... Kate, you there? It's me, Tony. Kate. Kaaaaaate. Kate."

Kate lifted her comm, and stared at it.

"I'm here, Tony. Uh what's going on?" And why do you sound drunk?

"I am not drunk," he replied, laughing into his comm ring, "Listen, Kate. You know how much I love you right? Listen. I need you to go to the media library and get some tunes. Pink Floyd. Whatever. Good stuff."

He paused, looking at Sawyer and mouthed, "Any suggestions?" before going back to rambling at poor, befuddled Kate, "And after you get the tunes, bring 'em down to the hanger deck. It'll be great."

Red Snout had heard the noise of some sort of engine and had thusly come to investigate. What he saw confused the velociraptor totally. A box-like human vehicle driving very slowly in circles, the windows clouded with smoke. He approached cautiously, sniffing. There was asickly sweet, cloying smell. Hn. He moved over to the moving vehicle, easily keeping pace, and tapped imperiously on the window.

"What are you doing?"

"Afroman," Sawyer said to Tony, only to be distracted by the sound of tapping on his window. Rolling it down, a big cloud of pot-smoke billowed out right into the raptor's face.

"Driiiiving," Sawyer answered with a big grin. "Wanna come?"

Red Snout almost tripped as the thick smoke smacked him right in the snout. He coughed, shaking his head as the stuff fogged his sense for a moment. The human contraption, brightly colored though it was, was certainly intriguing.

"...I suppose I might ride for a short while."

Tony blinked at the raptor slowly, then at Sawyer and finally nodded, "...fuck. Yes." Carefully, he clambered into the back and opened up the rear doors, "Jump in, man."

Best. Day. Ever.

"What's going on?"

Lash had been planning on using that hanger to do a few tests with her newest inventions, thank-you-very-much. She most certainly wasn't expecting a van that looked like it would get blown up the minute it stepped into a war zone. What a bunch of utterly tacky colors, but was there really a mysterious machine inside? Curiosity got the better of her and she stepped forward, only to gag and cough.

The smell. The smell. Black Hole, which being a war nation bent on taking over the world certainly wasn't the type to have pot fields, so the substance was completely alien to her. She grimaced and blocked her nose watching the van turn around in circles repeatedly.

"Gross."

Red Snout clambered into the back of the Mystery Machine, carefully laying his rifle on the bottom of the vehicle. It was quite smoky in here. Were they performing some sort of ritual? He cocked his head to one side.

"What is the purpose of the smoke?" The scent was somewhere almost sickening, but had a cloying sweetness all the same. "It makes it difficult to see. And to breathe."

The raptor coughed.

"The purpose," Sawyer began to answer--pausing to light up another joint, take hit, and then hand it back to the raptor--still grinning. "Is allooootta fun."

Then, glancing over his shoulder at Lash, he called out her. "In or out?"

Tony flopped back into his seat with a grin. Talking raptors. Pot. His girlfriend bringin' down some tunes. Today was a most excellent day. He folded his arms behind his head and glanced out the window at Lash, "...come on! It'll be fun!"

If her eyes could have rolled out of her sockets, she would have. Lash wasn't the most mature person, but the smell was seriously making her gag and she had honestly no idea what was going on except these people seemed to be utterly happy about it.

But she really wanted to know what the mysterious machine was....decisions decisions. She did enjoy fun things too...

"Alright. I'm in...in what exactly?"

"You are in...," Sawyer replied, waiting for the door to close and rolling up his window before they got in motion again. "...the Happy-Mobile," he finished with a giggle.

Red Snout coughed again after inhaling some of the noxious smoke from the bundle of herbs that Sawyer had passed him. Obviously it was some sort of bonding ritual amongst human males, and now that he was involved Red Snout felt it would be rude to upset their religious customs. Besides...he was way too relaxed to want interrupt anything right now.

"This human vehicle is. It is quite colorful. Yes."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject