On the prowl

[thatched]

Characters: Thatch, Namur, Ace, and Espio
Location: Beyond Balamb and anywhere they can sneak into
Rating: PG-13 for cursing and more
Open/Closed/Finished: Closed
Summary: Kidnap Chameleon, stick him in a car, drive him round the countryside and go to all the bars!



"Remember men," Thatch murmured into the walkie talkie, one of which he had procured from Grell, the other for Marco. He was sure they would understand, they were men on a mission-- a mission of debauchery. Anyway, petty borrowing was alright so long as it was returned.

"When you see Target: Pink, don't give him a chance to even blink. Just pick him up in passing and keep on going. If you can cast stop, do that, if not, do what you can. As of now..."

He looked around carefully before murmuring.

"Yellow Section, clear."

Comments

[thatched]

Thatch was fine with all of it up til the last part when he reflexively pulled his arms closer to himself.

"You better not tickle me. I will kick your ass, Ace, don't you dare." There was no way in hell he was going to be tickled. Not here. Not when he was the cool one taking everyone out for a night on the town. And if Ace thought otherwise he had another thing coming.

[om_nom_namur]

Namur pushed Ace's shoulder this time, out of principle.

"Sorry, Smolt," he said, ignoring Thatch acting like a frikkin' girl and glancing at Espio in the rearview mirror. "Y' got somethin' t' say?"

[espio]

"Yeah. I think these two need an adult."

He adjusted his position so he was a little less huddled up in the corner.

"Where are we going, again? How long's it gonna take?"

[om_nom_namur]

"Hell if I'd know," Namur shrugged. "I'm jus' drivin'."

[mera_mera_ace]

"I am an adult...I don't need an extra one. And I think we'll be there in like 20 minutes." Ace mused with a slight frown even as he returned Namur's shove, without looking at him.

Then he turned his glance to Thatch. And he totally agreed Namur. Thatch was acting like a woman. A moody one at that.

"Did Grell confiscate your man card or something? Since when did you become such a melodramatic push over?" He asked his long time friend and somewhat mentor.

[thatched]

Now he was tempted to be the one to crawl out of the car. He should have known Espio would be like this... but whatever, that was a given. Ace's words stung though. Since when-- Yeah since when, he fucking wondered.

He was just-- he wasn't even going to say anything. Not even kick the back of his seat. He was just going to ignore every one of these bastards until they got there, get horribly wasted and then-- then something. Hell if he knew. Hopefully he wouldn't be able to think much past the horribly wasted part. Because at that point, who gave a damn?

[espio]

"Oi." Espio glanced over at Thatch. "The car doesn't need two people sulking for no good reason. Get back to your 'wah, oh my god don't tickle me, eeeeeek!!' or whatever it was." His lips twitched into a slight smirk, at least a little amused, but it didn't last very long.

[thatched]

Still ignoring.

[om_nom_namur]

"Jus' cuz Thatch's in the back seat don't mean it ain't still his car." Namur pointed at Ace. "I'mma chuck y' out the door if y' don't shut yer damn mouth. The hell y' think yer sayin', the both a y'? Top shit in Garden's me, y' all hear? Don't let me catch y' bein' shits t' no one."

[mera_mera_ace]

Ace just shrugged raised an eyebrow at Namur and sat back in his seat like he was supposed too. He was quiet the rest of the way there. He didn;t think he was being out of line at all. He was simply calling Thatch on his bullshit. It was alright, he could wait till they were alone to try and really get to the bottom of the older mans issues.

"Turn left up here Namur. The bars on the right at the end of the road." Ace said.

[espio]

"I'm just impressed there's people in this family who can drive," Espio remarked, after sitting silently for a few minutes. "You know. Other than me. I still don't know how Marco managed to pass that class... maybe they decided it was safer to get him out of it."

And Grell... he had no idea if she could drive or not, but she never seemed to show interest in it.

"I prefer flying though. Seriously, if I get a chance to show you the Ragnarok... okay, so it's not my ship, but my ship doesn't look anything like a dragon."

He got to his knees to look out of the window better. Yeah, he had no idea where they were.

[thatched]

He stirred a bit at Esipio's voice, looking askance at the chameleon. Marco had taken driving? He was surprised the man wasn't a nervous wreck inside. He'd have to ask him about it later.

"Takes a bit to get used to driving, mate. Nam-chan here took to it like a fishman to a dive bar." He leaned up and pinched Namur's cheek. They were getting close to the bar but-- he reached over and wrapped a hand against Ace's forehead, playfully pushing his head back against the seat, an apology and forgiveness in one.

"I usually prefer flying by glitter turkey, but I wouldn't mind coming up in the air with you a few times."

[mera_mera_ace]

Ace grinned brightly at Thatch and like that everything was forgiven and forgotten. Boys, right? He turned, nodding at Espio. "You said you would take me flying one day. I'm gonna hold you to it. I wanna see if it's anything at all like flying on Marco."

"And class? You have to take a class to drive a car?" Ace had never heard of anything like that before. Then again, they didn't have cars in his world as far as he knew.

[om_nom_namur]

"Shit, Ace," Namur turned where indicated, and slipped the whale of a car neatly into a parking space off to the side of the bar. "Make y' take a class for everythin' 'round Garden. How t' swim. How t' cook. How t' wear yer damn clothes, even." He chuckled. Garden Code was the worst class by far and Ace would have to take it sometime in the next year. Namur did not envy him.

"A'ight, everyone out. If yer goin' t' get s' damn sloshed y' puke, do it inside or on the ground. Y' splash Li'l Blue an' I'll end y'."

[thatched]

Of course they had a lot of classes for basic things and fair was fair. If they had to indoctrinate kids from an impressionable age into military service, might as well teach them how to wash their damn clothes in the deal. He got out of the car and stretched, working the kink out of his neck before grinning at Namur's words.

"You are a Fishman among Fishmen," he said, wrapping an arm around Namur's shoulders and planting a smooch on his head. He lead them toward the bar, keeping a close eye on Espio unless the guy decided to scarper. It was a ramshackle kind of place. A kind of bar that all the Marines except for the really annoying (and fun ones) would avoid. No dark and dangerous criminals but people that looked too shifty to leave alone but too much like a stringbean to bother to arrest.

The air was filled with a haze of blue cigar smoke, smelled chiefly of beer and the kind of food that gave you heartburn, as well as waitresses that liked to feel the breeze.

"Don't drink the water," he murmured out of the side of his mouth--before pausing at the eternal question, side glancing Namur. Bar or table? A booth was out of the question but the other seating choices were a bit on the nonexistant side.