beyondtheline | I sure like the feeling of an endless road

[Johnnie gives a bark of laughter at Chrissy shouting out "white couple", and then tries to contain it to giggles but fails. As the two drive off, he's still laughing about this even as he tries to follow Chrissy, swerving here and there.]

"White couple!" Fuck! An' they fuckin' looked, they know they're "white couple"! That's the best fuckin' part!

[He catches up to her with a hand on his shoulder, and manages to get himself into a slightly more controlled snicker.]

What's that make us, huh?

[He'll ponder that while winding their way through the city streets. Maybe he'll figure it out before they get to the park.]

Well, we're...weeeee're....

[She draws out that last word, trying to think of the best way to describe them. Obviously they're not a white couple. They're something else. But she doesn't like trying to put a label on them like that. So she brings their joined hands up to her mouth and kisses at his knuckles with a chuckle.]

We're better than they are, that's what we are. We're like a hurricane.

[A force of nature is exactly the best way to describe them. The thought makes her smile, even as she realizes she doesn't see a park up ahead. They stop at a corner so a car can turn and drive past, and she proceeds to keep heading straight ahead. If that guy sent them in the wrong direction, she's going to find him and make him sorry.]

Hell yeah we are!

[Better than anything else she could have said, and better than any dumb shit he might have come up with in the next few minutes. He tries to do a spin, arms wide, as if to demonstrate his hurricane-ness, but immediately loses his balance and topples to the sidewalk, laughing. He lets himself lie there for a second before picking himself up and brushing off his jacket. No harm done.]

Hey, that made me sober up! Perfect. Now, where's this park?

[It did not make him sober up. He's still pretty teetery as he walks along. But a little bright spot of subdued pain at contact with the pavement must have cleared the haze for a second or two.]

[She's still wide eyed as he tries to walk that off, and almost calls after him to stop for a few minutes so they can sit down. He'd probably be grumpy about that though, so she jogs to catch up and tries to keep a close eye on him and all his teetering.]

You're so not sobered up.

[The accusation makes her laugh, and as they reach another corner she points up ahead.]

The street sign says there's a park up ahead. It's not far. Are you sure you can make it?

[She's only teasing of course, he's done a lot more than just walk when he was a lot more messed up. But his spinning and falling is hilarious to her, even if it's in a concerning kind of way. He's the one that makes sure neither of them get hurt. And here he is all funny and they're going to buy drugs from people who might think they're a threat.]

Yeah, I can make it. I'm not passed out yet, so I'm all kindsa ... I'm gonna make it for sure!

[He loses track of his sentence midway through but then course corrects as he stumbles forward with confidence. For a short guy, he holds his alcohol well, he'd like to think, but maybe sitting down at the park for a while will do him some good anyway.

Behind the buildings past that sign, dark shapes emerge in the night, silhouetted against the city - trees, looking mostly black in the dark but for where moonlight or street light shines on their crowns. It looks mostly quiet here for now, but there's a couple of people strolling past farther down on the sidewalk, out enjoying the summer night. Light shimmers off the surface of a dark pond in the middle of the grass, too - and in the middle, a concrete protrusion that must be a fountain when turned on and running during the day.

Johnnie manages to find himself a bench and sits down, tipping his head back to enjoy the cool breeze. That might do more to help him come to his senses than, say, falling over.]

Well, I don't see anyone selling but maybe they're just waitin' for someone like us to sit down. C'mere, baby girl, you gotta come back in my arms an' stay warm.

[He doesn't need to invite her a second time. She grins and hurries over to sit in his lap and guide his arms to wrap around her. It is nice and warm there, and perfectly safe too. The night air should clear his head in no time, and they'll be okay to buy whatever they want off of whoever shows up.]

Let's give someone five or ten minutes to show up. I bet someone will.

[And sure enough, within a few minutes, a couple walks by and eyes them as they pass. The woman whispers to the man, and he looks back over his shoulder their way. Chrissy catches this and gives Johnnie a little nudge, before smiling and waving at the two. If she needs to play up the innocent and sweet thing to get these people to sell them drugs, she'll do whatever it takes.]

I don't think we've seen the two of you around here before.

[The woman says as they approach, and Chrissy shrugs.]

We're not from around here. We're just visiting and are trying to have some fun. Right, babe?

[That's a pretty good cover, if that's what this is - pretending to be a couple, or maybe they really are a couple. Johnnie's critical thinking capabilities have been turned off and he doesn't really know or care but if they hadn't approached he wouldn't have had a single thought about them.

He grins, on Chrissy's cue, and gives her a pat on the thigh.]

Yeah, night's still young. You two dunno where we could score somethin' to make sure we have a good time, do ya?

[The man answers verbally first, as the woman taps her purse.]

Sure, we can help you out with that. What kinda party are you after?

[Johnnie considers the question for a moment, his tongue muddled by alcohol. What kind of party? What an annoying question. Future pushers like these two need a menu or something, how does he even know what to ask for?

Well, he'll wing it. He'll figure it out.]

I'm thinkin', something to keep us dancing all night long! Or at least somethin' to let us enjoy the sights while we wander around. But no boring shit, I ain't lookin' for pot, man.

[Both the man and woman chuckle.]

How about something that takes you all the way to outer space? You can dance all night with the stars. It's totally radical.

[The woman drawls, and Chrissy gets a little tense because that description sounds an awful lot like -

Her eyes widen as the man unzips the purse and situates himself so no one can see the woman pull out a little vial with black liquid. Chrissy has to bite her tongue to keep from gasping in shock. That definitely looks like vide noir. But it can't be, they burned it all in 1967. Didn't they?

She doesn't say a word. She goes absolutely rigid in Johnnie's arms and waits to hear his reaction before speaking.]

Oh, shit.

[Wait, he hadn't meant to say that out loud, but there it is, along with his raised eyebrows. Yeah, he's pretty sure he knows exactly what that stuff is.

The woman takes his response as enthusiasm and gives the vial a little wiggle just to make the liquid inside shimmer ever so slightly as it catches the dim light - though it doesn't catch much. This stuff never does.]

Tried it before? It's good. This one's a new formulation, gets you out there on a real smooth ride.

[Is that bullshit? Seems like it could be bullshit but he doesn't actually know the first thing about how this stuff is made and bottled. Are there formulations or does vide noir just run raw through the earth in its secret, hidden places?

He's not going to take it. He's not. He wants it. He really is not going to take it though. Probably.

He nods at the bottle.]

That's what, an ounce? How much?

[She smiles, anticipating a sale.]

Forty. Best price you'll find out here tonight. Especially given those Jawbreaker kids sell it diluted with motor oil. This is the real deal.

[Chrissy doesn't like the sound of Johnnie engaging with any of this. There's no way she's going to let him buy any, even if it is actually all motor oil. It's not worth the risk. Still, she smiles a little and shakes her head.]

That sounds like more of an adventure than I'm wanting to take. Do you have anything not so...

[She hesitates, unable to find the right word. It's not like she wants to offend a nice, honest couple out trying to earn money. She just isn't going to be the chump that buys black sludge she can get for free from the place the Ender sent them. Surely he'd kick them back there if they really wanted another dive into the darkness.

Wouldn't he?]

So what? Are you looking for something a little less dangerous?

[The woman tries again, smiling as she taps her purse.]

You looking for something you can breathe in? Or wanting something you can mainline right into your system?

[Mainline? That sounds new and potentially exciting. Chrissy glances over at Johnnie with a shrug.]

Whatever's cheapest.

["Less dangerous"?]

Wait, hold the fuck up, I don't fuckin' want less dangerous, that's bullshit! I live for danger, you kidding me?

[And fuck cheapest too, cheapest is shit, cheapest is how you get the bad shit that gives you the runs and a bad hangover or whatever.

His insistence makes the man chuckle, though it sounds like there might be an edge of frustration there at these two not buying already.]

Maybe we'll do a deal then. A little of this, a little of that, right?

[As he says it, the woman sorts through her purse until she pulls out a vial of clear liquid. Heroin, or morphine, Johnnie recognizes that. And he snorts and shakes his head.]

No fuckin' downers, man, I ain't lookin' to have a nap here even if it's a real nice one. Look, you got coke?

[Not exactly as dazzling as something like vide noir but it'll keep him going while they race through the streets and explore on his bike, and maybe that's the best alternative here.]

[Here she is, trying to keep his mind on this planet and his brain from turning all black again. And he's going to go and say all that. Her mouth draws into a tight line, and she doesn't say anything else. The couple selling to them glance at each other before they both direct their attention only on Johnnie.]

It looks like you'll need it to get through tonight.

[A tiny clear bag is just barely pulled out of her purse so he can see, and her tone takes on a sharper edge. If this little shit doesn't buy something in the next ten seconds, she's walking.]

Six hundred, it's yours.

[Her partner insists, giving a chuckle with an edge that says if six hundred isn't handed over as quickly as possible they might have a problem. Chrissy recognizes the threat there and eyes him critically. He looks like she could take him in a fight if she needed to.]

[Johnnie laughs, taking that for an obvious joke, but the looks on their faces tell him maybe it wasn't meant to be.

So the laughter fades, and he takes in the seriousness of it all over the next two or so seconds before bristling, eyes narrowed.]

The fuck do you mean, six hundred? That shit ain't worth that much, it's just fucking cocaine! What, 's it made from fuckin' ground up angels or some shit? Diamonds? I fuckin' sell that shit at home, I'd get fuckin' stabbed if I tried to sell it for anywhere near that much! Fuck, I oughta gut you for even suggesting it!

[Booze keeps his chatter going long after he should have stopped, and allows his hand to slip toward the knife at his belt.

And, seeing this, the woman stuffs the bag back in her purse and quickly turns to leave. Her partner backs off a step as well, but keeps his eyes on Johnnie just in case.]

Fine. We've wasted enough time on this. Good luck, kiddos.

[She watches them retreat with her mouth still drawn in a tight line. She's not mad or upset, but it's hard to put her concern for Johnnie into words that won't make him have a reaction. He's clearly riding high on his anger about the six hundred dollars and she doesn't want to take that away from him. So she waits a few seconds before saying anything at all.]

Did you really want to buy the vide noir?

[It's impossible for her to hide the worry in her voice, but she does them both a favor by not looking directly at him. Staring straight ahead at the darkness that couple disappeared into is just fine by her. The distress in her eyes probably is showing and that will ruin their good night.]

Come on, let's go find somewhere else to buy something. We'll get high and keep having a good time. We don't need to sniff six hundred dollar junk. I bet we can find vide noir just about anywhere if we really wanted to.

[But if he's doing it, she's doing it too. And she knows he doesn't want her to touch it.]

I... No, I... Well, I thought about it.

[Did he really want to buy it? Maybe, for a moment, when presented with the opportunity. The shit is good.

But he shudders at the memory of it, too.]

When it's good, it's perfect, that's the thing. An' there's no fuckin' way I'm payin' six hundred for coke! Shit, they better not have only expensive drugs here. San Francisco's bullshit.

[And he's just mad about it. With a sigh, he gives her a nudge to get up as he stands too. At least he's less wobbly now after sitting a while and letting the alcohol boil off in his anger.]

What'd she say, Jawbreakers? Must be one a' the local gangs. They'll know better than those two assholes.

Yeah, I heard Jawbreakers. They shouldn't be too hard to find. We'll just look for tags.

[This area is pretty nice. There's probably only one gang around here, right? There must be. She's wearing a hint of a smile as she stands up and stretches, but turns it into a smooth move where she takes hold of his hand and leans in for a quick kiss at the same time. He doesn't seem like he's really in a bad mood, which means they'll have fun no matter what.]

If we did find vide noir, would you still tell me not to take it? You used to tell me to stay away from that shit.

[She pauses, head tipping to the side as she laughs at some memories of their early conversations.]

I think you used to tell me to stay off the hard stuff too. Like cocaine.

[And now he wants to buy it for a fun and romantic night out stealing.]

No, you should stay off vide noir. C'mon, you know that.

[Look, he knows he's not being fair or logical here and he doesn't care. Nobody should take that shit. He wants it, but he shouldn't take it. It's just that he does a lot of things he shouldn't do, and following shoulds and should nots is fucking boring, while going against them is way more interesting.]

I mighta warned you off coke at first too just so you don't get hooked on it, but it seems like you're doin' good there. It's not as addictive anyway y'know, that shit's just an easy good time.

[Tags, tags. Well, they probably have a long way to walk. At least this way the cool night air and all the city lights will give them some taste of what he was after - and especially now it actually does seem like it's helping him sober up. Or at least helping him walk a little straighter.]

[He seems to be in okay spirits. And can walk better now too. That's a good thing. She glances over at him with a grin, pleased that their night hasn't been derailed by how unprofessional those two sellers were. They're probably still circling the park looking for chumps who don't mind spending hundreds of dollars.]

We never need to take anything to have a good time.

[That feels important to point out, but she knows whatever they take always amplifies their enjoyment. She doesn't mind it, and he knows that. She's just giving him a hard time to try and make him smile too.

They head out of the park and she leads the way further down the street. Things go from nice to run down within a couple of blocks. Her eyes are peeled for signs of tags, and she thinks she spots one on a trash bin at the side of a gas station.]

Hey, what about that? Do you think that means we're getting closer?

Hm.

[He looks it over a second, hands in his pockets, then shrugs and withdraws his hands really just to light up a cigarette.]

Maybe. Might have to see some more to figure out if it's a one off, they don't have the same style here as what I'm used to. Or maybe it's your time, things changed, I bet.

[Graffiti is still fairly new in his neighborhood in general, and who knows how the styles of turf marking have evolved over the years.

But it does get him looking more, as they walk - not just at walls and sidewalks, but at the people who might be watching and lurking, just in case some of them decide to become trouble.

There's a more obvious example as they make it down to the corner of the next block. There's a roll call sprayed on a lowered garage door facing the street, some ten names in blue, but two are crossed off in red with a large JB sprayed over the top of the rest.

And so just in case, Johnnie brushes the pistol in his jeans with his thumb to make sure it's still there. Just in case.]

We prob'ly wanna keep walking. Keep your eyes open.

[These people have no reason to know or think about him whatsoever but it's only smart to be a little careful in a contested area. Every shape could be trouble.]

Mmhm.

[A soft sound of understanding is his only response, as she pauses in walking long enough to try and figure out what's going on with that garage door. She doesn't realize he's walked on ahead until she can't sense his presence next to her anymore. It's only then that she jogs to catch up to him.]

Hey, why were all those names crossed off like that? I haven't seen anything like that back home.

[It's not like she's an expert on graffiti or anything but at least she's not staring at it asking is this tagging? all over again.]

Blue names was a roll call, buncha people in the gang here all sayin' they're still here, still around, still layin' claim to this block. The red crossin' some of 'em off means either it's a threat or they've been done by JB which I gotta figure is that Jawbreakers crew, but that makes it a threat either way since they're comin' into this turf an' makin' a big deal of it.

[And that's why he's watching the shadows and tugs her along with him, at least until the tags become more consistent. JB on every wall - so these guys are sure of themselves, and prolific enough that even here in San Francisco, their tags last long enough before anyone bothers to paint over them.

There's a trio of boys laughing across the street, sitting on the sidewalk with their backs to a wall. They have paper bags in their hands - hard to see, but easy to hear with the crinkle of the paper. Their voices don't sound like they've even dropped in pitch yet. Kids huffing, Johnnie has to figure. Not all that threatening, but confident enough to hang out in the open here. They belong.

He walks on up and knocks on the building wall like it's a door, though he's obviously been seen. The giggling only pauses slightly.]

You boys know where I can go if I'm lookin' to buy somethin' to spice up my night a little?

[Chrissy figures this is probably a good time to be seen and not heard. And actually, she prefers not to be seen since those boys are looking at her with interest. They sound like they're still in middle school, so she at least sees them as kids and not threats. She still stays quiet, letting Johnnie handle the conversation this time.]

Maybe.

[One of the boys responds, and giggles as he nudges his friend next to him. That boy is a little taller than the others, and eyes Johnnie and the jacket he's wearing critically.]

You gotta go through the guys at the Roundhouse.

[What the heck is a roundhouse?

Chrissy shifts to stand behind Johnnie as all the boys look over to her.]

You might wanna leave her here with us. It'd be safer.

[It's hard to tell if they're being honest or if they're joking around at flirting with her right in front of her boyfriend, because they're all giggling and nudging each other again. She bites at her lip to try and ignore the impulse to tell them all to fuck off.]

It's a few blocks that way.

[The smallest of the boys speaks up, pointing back over his shoulder.]

You gotta talk to Dante over at the Roundhouse. But you really don't wanna bring a girl down there.

You boys got a lot to say about a girl you never met. Watcha got there, paint?

[Somehow the giggling increases at that response, and one of them tries to respond but he's in so deep the babbling is nearly incoherent. Something about Dante and the guys and eating her up, but it's the ramblings of a very high child and easy enough to dismiss as meaningless.

The others are nodding along, and Johnnie can't help but chuckle at their stupid high asses. At least he got a lead on where to go.]

Don't have too much fun, kids. Your mamas want you home in the morning.

[That is certainly not a "don't get high sniffing fumes", not really even a caution, just a casual farewell as he continues on down the sidewalk in the direction of this supposed Roundhouse. And out of some sense of needing to protect her, even though he knows he certainly doesn't, Johnnie tucks an arm around Chrissy's waist regardless.]

Dumbass kids. We can feel this place out before goin' in but I can't imagine any bar or clubhouse or whatever's gonna be that bad unless it's a buncha real fuckin' animals.

[Well, she never minds his arm around her waist. The touch makes her smile, and she leans against his arm a little as they walk. It's pretty endearing how sweet he was with those kids.]

What, like lions or something? Oh! Or bears!

[What he really means settles in a second later, and she laughs as she shakes her head.]

Anyway, you were really good with those kids. They were so high I'm surprised they could even remember Dante's name.

Surprised they could say much at all. That shit goes from funny to blackout so fuckin' fast. First you think you've seen god an' then you're out for a real deep nap.

[He snickers. Brain damage is funny. Mostly because he's pretty sure he came off easy in that regard. Right? Probably.]

Anyway, I guess if these assholes really are trouble we can fuckin' bail. I just wanna get high, I don't wanna have a shitty night fulla shitty people. This is turning into a fuckin' journey.

[Sigh.

Some blocks down, he gets a sign they must be headed in the right direction. Music, muffled out here as it drifts past buildings, seeps out onto the street somewhere not too distant. Music that's unusual to his ears and sort of reminds him of what they heard in New York, all those thumping beats that carry down the block.

And there outside a building with golden light pouring out of a small cracked window are a handful of guys smoking and laughing. Must be the Roadhouse. As they draw close, he calls out,]

Evening, boys. Don't suppose one 'a you can point me to Dante?

[He's wary, despite his usual cheery tone. If he's not welcome here, if he needs to draw a weapon, he'll be on that so damn fast. Hopefully Chrissy is also helping out by keeping an eye out behind them.]

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