chicago ♔ something wrong | with all the plans of my life

[rationalizes]

♬ Killing Loneliness - HIM

WHO || Failboat + Burt [Closed]
WHAT || Various and sundry post-funeral shenanigans
WHERE || Chicago, IL
WHEN || July 6, evening.
HOW || Actionspam

[ This log will cover all events that take place between the funeral and the NOVA Record break-in two nights later, that weren't hit on during the live session. Feel free to make your own threads! ]

Comments

Archer has a Fey-Wine induced dream, and acts appropriately - (OTA / Around the Hotel)

[isisagent]

[Archer woke up that morning after his Fey-Wine bender, and bolted from the apartment, without even stopping to mix a Bloody Mary. (He hit a bar first thing, though, after he realized his mistake!) It was late in the afternoon when he finally returned back to the hotel...]



[Out-of-Breath (from running up the stairs... that elevator isn't fixed yet?!), slightly drunk, and with a wild look in his eyes, Archer saunters through the door into the room.]

Where's Des?

[Before anyone can even respond, he's halfway to the mini fridge to mix up a Martini. He's clearly been very busy today...]

[nothingsodivine]

[Des has locked himself in his room trying to gather together everything he has on the case for his meeting with Liam while trying not have as little contact with people as possible. Between the car and Jaka being a DICKBAG, he just doesn't want to deal.

And now there are people shouting his name. He tosses down his pencil and walks out into the penthouse proper.]

I don't have anything left for you to demolish, so what is it?

[isisagent]

[Archer turns around with a pair of Martinis, and slides one along the counter towards Des, as a giant grin splays across his face. His suit is in ruins - half torn up, covered in grease, oil, and sweat.]

There's something outside you gotta see! COME ON!

[He claps Des on the shoulder, leaving an oily black hand print, and rushes back towards the door.]

[nothingsodivine]

[Des takes the martini, looks at Archer... looks at the martini... opens his mouth to say something, then he gets an oily black handprint on his shirt and he just scowls. Words cannot compare to his angry facial expressions]

I don't even like martinis! [But he downs it- olive and all- spits the olive out onto his hand, and follows Archer out with little more than an eyeroll.]

[isisagent]

What, you love them? He said sarcastically, while running down the stairs. [Yes, he said that out loud.]

[Archer leads Des out of the lobby, and points him toward A very shiny El Camino taking up two handicapped spots front and center.]

EH? EH?!

[nothingsodivine]

[IS HE NARRATING HIS OWN LIFE. IS THAT HAPPENING. But Des is following, so he isn't sure what that says about him.

And he really isn't sure what Archer frantically pointing at that THING says about Archer, because wtf. what is that.]

What the hell is that? [He asks, while eating the olive he just spat out.]

[isisagent]

That, Double-D, is my new ride. Half-car, Half-truck, 100% kick ass.

[After a beat, he tosses Des a keychain with an 8-ball on it...]

Yours is over there [He points to an identical car a few spaces over.] Carlito couldn't find another handicapped space to park it in.

[nothingsodivine]

[Des catches the keys. Now hold for horror.

Holding, holding... Annnd there's Des realizing what the hell is happening.]

No, no, no. No. You did not get me an abomination to replace my 'vette. You did not get us matching abominations. That's not even a car. That's something indecisive inbred hicks drive.

[isisagent]

Well of course it's not a CAR Des. It's an El Camino, just look at the back end.

And, would an inbred hick car do this?

[He pushes a button on his remote start, and... yep. Dukes of Hazzard horn.]

[nothingsodivine]

Yes. [SAYS THE GUY WHO SOUNDS LIKE THE BANDIT ON HIS BEST DAYS.] Yes, that is exactly what an inbred hick car would do. [He hands the keys over.] Look, thanks, but no thanks. Give it to Finnick. You two are all... close. You deserve matching cars.

[isisagent]

Wait... [His tone finally shifts from boyish amazement to something a bit more, but not entirely, sober.] You're serious?

But it's a SPY CAR... I thought it'd help your whole "Magnum P.I." vibe for this trial...

And Finnick doesn't need a vehicle - we're buying a tank.

[nothingsodivine]

An Aston Martin is a spy car. A Mercedes is a spy car. What kind of backwoods secret agency do you even work for that considers that a legitimate vehicle for espionage?

[isisagent]

The kind that likes to be able to haul things occasionally, and pack skiing gear for long weekends? Duh?

Just take it for a spin before you decide.

Trust me - You won't regret it. [He offers the keys back up.]

[nothingsodivine]

[Des has a moment of internal debate before he finally snatches the keys back.] You've got ten minutes to impress me, Slick.

[STOMPING OVER TO HIS STUPID CAR, muttering:] What the fuck do I need to haul? I don't own anything bigger than the glovebox. Jesus H. Christ.

[isisagent]

[While technically still an El Camino, this weird hodgepodge of a vehicle has more a muscle-car front end than a typical El Camino front end. It's painted jet black with white racing stripes, and the interior is all leather.]

Yeah, that's Corinthian leather, by the way. Kind of a big deal. Pop the hood.

[nothingsodivine]

My 'vette had bucket seats. [He liked the bucket seats, but the leather interior is marginally less offensive than the fucking truck bed. He pops the hood.] What am I looking at here?

[isisagent]

Well THAT would be a 440 V8 Hemispherical cylinder engine - state of the art.

[nothingsodivine]

[......]

That'd be great if I was drivin' beer from Texarcana to Atlanta. What the hell d'you think I do on my off-hours? Drag race?

[isisagent]

... Do you not? Because, you could. This baby tops out at like 180.

[nothingsodivine]

I don't even get into car chases when I can help it. [THE LAST TIME HE WAS IN ONE, HE ALMOST HAD A PANIC ATTACK.

But he does need a car. He looks at the El Camino and lets his shoulders slump.] For the time being, I will keep it. If only because it'll be weeks before I can get my insurance sorted out enough to replace the 'vette. After that, you can do whatever you want with it.

[isisagent]

[Archer grins.]

Chases aren't a problem with this mean bitch anyway. She's got oil slicks, and tire tacks, ejector seat - all the necessary tools. And, of course, a minibar.

[nothingsodivine]

[THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH ELLIPSES IN THE WORLD FOR THIS.]

You're fucking with me, right?

[isisagent]

OH! I almost forgot, it's got on-board GPS, and a voice-activated computer... What else... I just kept throwing money at those guys - it's got a like demo mode, though, start it up.

[nothingsodivine]

[OKAY, YOU KNOW WHAT... He just waves his hands.] I'm just gonna stop you right there. Seriously. There is a point where too much is too much, Jimmy Bond.

[isisagent]

No, you're right, I should stop.

My penis can only get so erect, right? heh... and I'm supposed to be breaking into some building soonish... need to change into a tactle-neck, and get some booze in my system.

[He claps Des on the other shoulder - leaving a matching black stain.]
Enjoy the car!