(no subject)

[fifth_garde]

[He'd drove all night, habitually remembering to drink from the cold flask of cheap coffee he'd picked up from a diner and even more habitually to chew on aspirin. He had to keep the pain in his arm at bay, occasionally it would spasm causing him to jerk the wheel to one side. His eyes were aching, and either that was because of the exhaustion or the emotions which were rattling around in his head, both of which weren't things he was able to take care of right then.

He'd eventually caved in and put on the radio, listening to some random popular music station so he wasn't left with just his own thoughts. He didn't exactly enjoy the music but it was better than utter silence, every now and again he'd press a wad of napkins against his temple, which had crusted over but wasn't entirely finished bleeding yet.

Finally reaching the town he'd left Owen in earlier that day, or actually the day before considering it was now five in the morning, he could've simply ran but he'd either end up running into a wall or phasing half way through one and winding up dead.

He parked the car in the same car park he'd left the BMW and transfers the chest from one trunk to the other, after all he'd rather ditch Al's car for the stolen motor, regardless of the convenience of having a car with actual insurance papers.

Finally he drags himself into the corridors of the hotel, it seeming deadly quiet for the fact it was so early, he vaguely remembers Owen's room number having only seen it once before and slumps against the doorframe, tapping lightly on it and hoping Owen would hear.]

Owen? 's me... I mean, Five, y'there?

Comments

[fifth-garde.livejournal.com]

Eh, they can roll with it. 'm pretty sure we'd be faster than any number of the patrons.

[He seems delighted and slides into one of the seats in a booth far in the back, picking up the menu with much gusto.]

I love these places, everythin' is about a calorie away from givin' you a heart attack and even the waitresses look miserable. It doesn't try too hard like some of the more high-rent places.

[magicalmishaps.livejournal.com]

Well, yes, but I'd like to be able to come back some day...!

[Owen has less gusto, and hesitates briefly before sitting.]

...What's wrong with trying hard?

[He's studying the menu, and there are no salads on it. No salads, Jason. And... All of the sandwich fillings are fried.] ...Fries for me, apparently. And if I have a heart attack on the airplane, I'm blaming you.

[fifth-garde.livejournal.com]

[He just snorts, finally done studying the menu. When a waitress comes over he orders a basket of fries for Owen, Chicken fried steak, fries and a chocolate milkshake for himself. Grinning like a kid in a candy store.]

I thought y'said you didn't have a weak heart?

[He finally gets looking around to the other people in the diner. Regular hick folk that may or may not be staring, but it probably had nothing to do with suspicions of him being an alien and more with the fact he'd dragged a guy in here behind him before taking a quiet booth at the back. He wasn't worried about that kind of thing, though... it was just one of the things he found odd about the human race.]

So the carpark meeting tomorrow is off b/c the guy is CRAYCRAY.

[magicalmishaps.livejournal.com]

Yes. 'Didn't'. Past tense. A few more days like this, however, and it might give up entirely.

[Owen flashes him a cheeky smirk and pulls out his phone, pecking away at the internet, too busy to notice whether anyone's staring or not, although he does notice Jason ordering for him. He wouldn't generally appreciate that, but considering he had already said what he wanted... His phone has quickly become very distracting. But don't get too upset, Jason; he's apartment-hunting.]

>.> ruuuuuun

[fifth-garde.livejournal.com]

Y'can start eatin' healthy again when y'get t'England, okay?

[He's too busy people watching to register the phone anyway, and it doesn't take long for the waitress to bring their food up, which just led him to believe that nothing was going to be fresh but at the same time, he didn't really care. When the food all set down he finds himself staring at Owen as if to say.. eating time, now?]

Y'busy there?

Way ahead of you, bb!

[magicalmishaps.livejournal.com]

Oh, sorry, er, I was--

[Jason gets a go of the phone now.]

Thoughts (http://www.rightmove.co.uk/property-to-rent/property-19064451.html)?

[fifth-garde.livejournal.com]

[He scrolls through the picture while eating a fry.]

Nice buildin', pretty central.. can't say I love all the white though. Pricey, too...

[He nods.] What's the third bedroom for, though?

[magicalmishaps.livejournal.com]

[Which gives Owen a chance to pick at his own.]

...Stuff? A desk for schoolwork, and out-of-season clothing, and that... Sort of thing.

[This is a perfectly legitimate reason.]

[fifth-garde.livejournal.com]

Out-of-season clothin'... don't you just throw that shit out? [Oh no, Jason, don't let Owen know your laundry habbits.]

'n okay... I guess that justifies a third room. [No it doesn't... but he'll just agree that Owen is very indulgent.

He hands the phone back, picking up another fry and dipping it in his milkshake.]

Are we really doin' this, then?

[magicalmishaps.livejournal.com]

Some gets donated to charity, but not everything... Usually I just store it at home, but if I'm going to move off-campus, I might as well do it properly.

And yes. Because otherwise, you'll be sleeping on my floor for the interim, and frankly...

[He lowers his voice.] A periodically incompetent witch in a dorm full of students is a bad enough idea in itself, without adding a... A randy alien to the mix.

[fifth-garde.livejournal.com]

's that what I am now, randy alien?

[He smirks.] But I admit, 'd probably cause a huge stir with my looks alone. 'n besides, 'm not the kind of person that'd sleep on anyone's floor.

[magicalmishaps.livejournal.com]

According to you, that's what you've been for quite a while.

[Owen peers at him as imperiously as one can manage while in an American greasy spoon and eating french fries with their fingers.]

I give up my bed for no man.

[fifth-garde.livejournal.com]

's a good thing 'm not a man, then, jus' a randy alien.

[He laughs lightly.]

Then we're definitely goin' t'need an apartment.

[magicalmishaps.livejournal.com]

Oh, I hardly think they're mutually exclusive. And it still doesn't give you thieving rights to the bed.

I make some calls later and see what I can sort out. For now...

Wait, what's the name on the passport you have?

[fifth-garde.livejournal.com]

I have thieving rights t'everythin' I want. Haven' you noticed?

[He thinks for a moment.]

Uh, the most recent would be Jason White... 'n don't worry about me gettin' through customs or whatever.

[magicalmishaps.livejournal.com]

[Smirk.] Not the things that are mine. Really. I could curse them. ...You might grow a tail. [He's probably joking. Maybe.]

Okay, hold on.

[He'll just be calling the airline and booking another ticket.] You're lucky it's a lot easier to get out of America than in without a US passport.

[fifth-garde.livejournal.com]

Could y'actually do that? I wonder what I'd look like with a tail...

[He rolls his eyes.] You forget, 've been gettin' in 'n out of countries like an elite immigrant since I was one.

[magicalmishaps.livejournal.com]

I'm guessing uncomfortable. Your trousers are tight enough as it is.

...Oh, you-- Really? I thought that was just... You know, something you did for fun. [Abrupt subject change before he asks something stupid like 'Where else have you lived?' or 'What was your favourite place?' and reminds him of his loss.] You've been to England before? [...That's not any better, of course. But he does need to know.]

[fifth-garde.livejournal.com]

Hey, they're good for showin' off the goods.

[He chuckles lightly.] Nah, it was fun but I really like travellin', 'm always just itchin' t'move.

[He shakes his head.] I've been there like, a couple times t'London? Never lived there though.

[magicalmishaps.livejournal.com]

I noticed. Which means I'd probably notice a tail, as well-- and so would everyone else. Though I might just be nice and settle for boils or something traditional.

Well, we'll be in Oxford, but it's not far to London-- I mean for anyone, not just for you.

[fifth-garde.livejournal.com]

Y'wouldn't. Even you like the good too much t'just tarnish 'em with boils.

'n I was goin' t'say.. everythin's close for me. [He sets about cutting up his steak and eating ridiculously large chunks washed down with milkshake.]

When do we fly?

[magicalmishaps.livejournal.com]

Oh, do shut up. [Which is pretty much Owen for 'I concede your point and have no counter-argument.]

See, I'm learning.

Seven-thirty. So you don't have to choke yourself, we have plenty of time. [This is Owen giving you the benefit of the doubt about the size of those mouthfuls, Jason.]

[fifth-garde.livejournal.com]

Believe me, I never choke. [Really he's just hungry for real food so excuse him while he absolutely shovels large mouthfulls of his meal down his gullet.]

How long does the flight take, I mean is it a case of sleepin' 'n gettin' there in the early mornin' or what?

[magicalmishaps.livejournal.com]

I'll take your word for it. For now. [He is hoping the flirtacious banter is taking his mind off... Other things, at least for a while.]

Well, 7.30pm here is 12.30am tomorrow morning in England... And the flight takes seven hours, so we should get in about half past seven tomorrow morning.

I'll still be going directly to bed, though, most likely. I miss my own bed where I can sleep without the threat of room service bursting in uninvited.



You are invited to join me, however.

[fifth-garde.livejournal.com]

'm probably gonna sleep on the plane, or I'd get agitated and kill everythin' in sight. [He didn't exactly like long flights.. though he enjoyed flying. Obviously he was picky.]

'n are we goin' to your dorm or whatever... is that like, allowed?