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Apr. 19th, 2025 at 7:28 PM
[A few hours of open road makes for easygoing fun. It's great to be traveling again, and the feeling of Chrissy leaning up against his back, holding on tight while he whips ahead on a wide-open freeway through the pitch black of night is like nothing else. The last time they were racing up and down this freeway, they were on the way to go burn a bunch of people's lives down - but now that's hours back, back with the rest of the city. They've left the lights and have nothing to look at but the pavement in Johnnie's headlight, the glimpses of stars shining weakly through hazy clouds, and occasionally an oncoming car.
Johnnie hasn't exactly been trying to tune in to his senses or abilities or whatever it is he has - he's just been cruising, letting the night go by, enjoying their plunge northward without a care or a thought. So it is deeply irritating when the pavement quickly fades to a well-worn dirt track that almost tosses him and Chrissy to the ground, and it takes all of his skills to get the front wheel under control and to slow down before they hit a rock that really might launch them into the nearest alfalfa field. Or whatever it is that's here, whenever they've found themselves. Somewhere pre-freeway. Boo.
But there are a few lights ahead, and he did need a stop to pee, so, fuck it.]
Well, shit. Y'know, I dunno exactly where we are. Last sign said San Jose was still fuckin' hours off. You good? That was kinda shaky.
[As long as this dirt road stays packed, they can drive it, but it's going to be slow. Good thing they're almost to somewhere.]
Johnnie hasn't exactly been trying to tune in to his senses or abilities or whatever it is he has - he's just been cruising, letting the night go by, enjoying their plunge northward without a care or a thought. So it is deeply irritating when the pavement quickly fades to a well-worn dirt track that almost tosses him and Chrissy to the ground, and it takes all of his skills to get the front wheel under control and to slow down before they hit a rock that really might launch them into the nearest alfalfa field. Or whatever it is that's here, whenever they've found themselves. Somewhere pre-freeway. Boo.
But there are a few lights ahead, and he did need a stop to pee, so, fuck it.]
Well, shit. Y'know, I dunno exactly where we are. Last sign said San Jose was still fuckin' hours off. You good? That was kinda shaky.
[As long as this dirt road stays packed, they can drive it, but it's going to be slow. Good thing they're almost to somewhere.]
Comments
He spends a moment eating a little powdered donut, then another. Yeah, real good for sure.]
Electronics, yeah. Also liquor stores but only after it's real late. Those places have a ton a' cash. Shoe stores maybe, too? Shoes are kinda pricey. But all this only works if these people leave shit out where we can find it, not if they seal it away at night in a safe. Least, not if it's one I can't break into.
[And look, he's not a locksmith. That's Clicks' gig. He can only reliably deal with very simple locks of the kinds people don't normally use for valuables. Doors, cars, simpler shit.]
Could swing by a rich neighborhood too, see who looks home an' who don't.
[That all sounds like fun to her, and like a good night out. There have to be at least ten Radio Shacks around they can hit up, and liquor stores, shoe stores, and people's homes. They're going to need a bigger meal to fuel them through all that, and she figures she's done with her junk food snack and dusts her hands off on her back pockets.]
We can bring everything back and stay one more night, then check out rooms tomorrow right before we "check out".
[She says it as she moves her fingers in air quotes, laughing a little as she does. Like they're actually going to pay for this place.]
Do you wanna see if we can find something better to eat? I bet there has to be good seafood somewhere around here, right?
[He downs the rest of the coffee in one gulp, then gets up and trots over toward their room and lets himself in. These places always have some little pamphlet with restaurants and phone numbers.
Sure enough there's information for a few. Esplanade looks like a fancy sit-down place that might be kind of fun to crash, but on the other hand there's always Captain Tony's for a more casual spot that advertises things like halibut fish and chips.
Something about the fancy one is appealing to him just because he'd find it really funny to ditch from an expensive dinner, but they probably wouldn't be let in the front door.]
Whatcha think about these? Or we just go down the road an' see what we see.
[She's grinning though, clearly intrigued by the idea of going. It takes only another couple seconds of thought before she taps at the guide he's holding.]
Actually? Let's try Esplanade. We deserve fancy things, don't we?
[It's worth a try to see if they can get in dressed how they are. There's no reason for them to get all fancy just to get to eat some fish. This place can accept them as they are, or be set on fire as they drive out of town. It's their choice.]
Fuck yeah! We just gotta talk like we're rich, right? They just want our money, who cares what we look like!
[Him with his fucked up face and gang colors and her a teenage girl in a tiny top - look, they could be rich, right? If they pretend they're going to buy the nicest wine off the list then who's going to tell them no?
So with that decided, Johnnie pulls her in for a quick kiss, then tugs her along to the bike. The restaurant isn't far, and they're there in minutes - clearly, clearly underdressed. The couple who walks in the door while they're parking are in a sport jacket and elegant cream dress. But fuck them. Johnnie walks on forward with confidence toward the doorman who looks responsible for letting people in.
The man, balding with a waxed moustache, looks him and Chrissy up and down.]
Do you have a reservation, sir?
[Johnnie blinks. Right, reservations, that's a shitty thing these snobs do.]
Yeah. Yeah, under Miller. Sam Miller? For two.
[Common names - hell, they might get lucky. But Johnnie's not counting on that name being on the list, he just doesn't want to give his own. Maybe they can convince the dude their reservation is lost. Otherwise, fuck it. They'll figure something else out.]
Samantha Mueller?
[He sounds incredibly doubtful that Johnnie would answer to that name, but Chrissy is quick to laugh like a cheerleader and sound incredibly ditzy as she tips her head to the side and extends her hand.]
That's me, actually? Like, I go by Sam. But my real name is Samantha. Obviously.
[The host's expression softens a fraction, but he still seems skeptical.]
Do you have ID on you, miss?
[Chrissy heaves a big sigh and rolls her eyes. If there's one thing she's well trained on, it's how bitchy cheerleaders can act when they feel entitled to something.]
No? I don't need to drive, I have my dad. And my boyfriend. Duh.
[The host glances back down at the list, then back at them, then over to the line that's forming behind them. He locks eyes with Chrissy, who doesn't blink or back down. Instead she crosses her arms over her chest and pouts like a spoiled brat.]
Look, you can go get the manager. Daddy said that if we had any trouble to ask for Mr. -
[That makes his eyes go wide and he shakes his head.]
No reason to ask for Mr. Ziegler, Miss. Right this way, your table is ready.
[Well, at least now they know the manager's name so she can pretend her daddy told her to ask for him. That could come in useful if their waiter is stuffy too. She glances back at Johnnie with a smirk and takes hold of his hand as they follow the host inside. Hell yeah, they're about to get some top notch seafood.]
They're seated promptly, and he gives Chrissy a look that would come with a snicker of success but all too quickly some waitstaff dude with white fucking gloves on comes to bring them ice water and glasses that look like wine glasses but apparently they're for the water.]
The drinks menu, sir and madam.
[He presents it in a little booklet bound in red leather, and then is off again. To get something else? To go deal with another table? Johnnie watches him curiously, and when he doesn't instantly resurface to give them something new he taps Chrissy's shin with his toe.]
Goddamn these people ate up your bullshit, that was fuckin' good!
[Oh shit but that dude is coming back already, he can see him from the direction of what must be the kitchen, with something else? What the fuck does he need to bring now? Better be snacks and not some kind of warm towelette situation.]
Well, I wasn't going to let him turn us away.
[If she can do even one thing to treat him to something nice, she'll do whatever it takes. He's given her so many experiences, she wants to at least be able to give him a couple.
The waiter returns and stands at the table side expectantly, and Chrissy sighs like he's an inconvenience as she grabs the drink menu to look it over.]
We'll choose a bottle in a minute. Can we have menus now? Like food ones?
[It's physically painful to fake the tone she's using, and guilt is starting to creep in because she's sure the people here hate having to work for people that act like this. But the place is filled with them, a sea of white faces all acting entitled and like they're the only people around that matter. It's disgusting.
Her cheeks actually turn pink as the waiter stammers an apology and rushes off to go grab a couple of menus, which she promptly sets down and promises to give them some time to look things over. She waits until he's completely gone before letting her shoulders slump a little.]
We better pick out something fast. I might cry if I have to talk to him like that again. He seems so nice.
[So the drink menu is passed over to Johnnie, so he can pick what he thinks sounds best. She doesn't know the first thing about wine.]
[Drinks. Drinks.... Fuck, all these wines sound like total bullshit, but then again most wine does. They do offer beer but it's stuff that's really unfamiliar to him, but, well, it's beer, it can't go too wrong. Or they can order fancy liquor, and that's what catches his interest.]
What goes with fancy seafood? Rum? Or... No, yeah, light rum. Right? Fuck it, we could get rum an' more coffee. I bet their coffee's good.
[Or they get a bottle of wine just to make it feel right but - no, not worth it. It would only be worth it if they could walk out of here with it and trade it for something else later.
Okay, well, he didn't really convince himself of his drink choices but he's way more interested in this menu anyway.]
No prices on anything. Think that means it's free?
[She takes the drink menu and notes there are absolutely no prices there either. Huh. This place is expensive expensive. There's no time to lament over that though, because the waiter timidly comes back.]
I'm so sorry to interrupt, sir, but did you and the madam decide on drinks?
[Drinks are so extra. They don't have the money for this.
It's not like they were intending on paying anyway.]
We'll have a bottle of the red.
[As if there's only one on there. She'll let him figure out which one she means.]
We also need two waters, and I believe he was hoping for a mixed drink. Weren't you?
[If Johnnie wants something specific, she figures he can just say it now and they can take their time enjoying everything.]
"Bottle of the red" cool, whatever, maybe it'll be good. He eyes the waiter like it's some kind of power move to do so, asserting dominance by leaning back in his seat with his elbows over the back.]
Actually, I'm gonna do your light rum. No ice or whatever, just gimme a glass.
[And as the waiter nods and trots off, Johnnie snorts and looks over the food menu again.]
Okay, what the hell are capers? But those smoked clams sound good. Or "oysters diablo"? Spicy, I guess.
[Honestly, the appetizers sound the most fun. Just give him some straight seafood, none of this extra vegetable bullshit.]
Maybe she also wants to reassure herself she isn't one of them, but she chooses not to think about that as her eyes scan over the menu.]
Let's order them.
[She suggests, trying to sound lighthearted.]
The devil oysters and smoked clams. Oh! They have fried shrimp!
[That feels a little more down to earth and it brightens her up considerably. It makes her feel enough like herself that she's able to genuinely smile, and she reaches across the table to take his hand because they're supposed to be here for a romantic fun dinner. Not an episode of her white girl guilt.]
Do you think if I asked for a whole basket of them, they'd actually bring it out?
[Just like how who cares if they're supposed to pick one appetizer, one main and one side and whatever bullshit. They should order what they want. It's a fucking restaurant, not a religious code.]
Hell, I'd make a meal out of all these appetizers only, I dunno what to do with these main courses. Dungeness crab with butter and garlic is probably pretty good though, right? Anything's good with butter.
[But like, it's that or something teriyaki salmon or seared cod with some French words involved and maybe they're all great, he's just a little lost here.]
A minute later, and he's back with all of their drinks, and she's pretty sure after that they'll be left alone for at least a little while. Which is good, she actually wants to talk instead of just make small commentary on the menu.]
I wish we had brought a map. We need to pick out what direction we're heading in next. I mean, I know it'll be north. But I don't have any idea what's all the way up there.
Yeah! Well, we can look at the one I got that's back at the bike, but it woulda been fun to look now. I guess... Well, north of here's a buncha small farm towns mostly. I don't really know what's up here. I remember seein' we got a choice, we can either go up the coast the slow way or we can go straight north the fast way, or we can go over the mountains an'... I dunno what else is out that way. Kinda thinking the coast would be the most fun though.
[It's a classic drive, one he can't actually say he's done much of - route 1 all the way up. He's done portions north of Los Angeles, but they skipped those to get here in the interest of actually trying to make it to San Francisco without waiting way too long since they badly needed a cash refill.
But now that they've done that? Or, really, that they will do that tonight - now they can do whatever they please.
He takes a drink of the wine and tries to decide if he likes it or not. It tastes like wine to him though. Which is to say, sure, it's alcoholic grape juice and he doesn't hate it, but he'd take a beer over this most days.]
Let's take the coast up north. Then we can go over the mountains on the way back.
[That way they can say they've done both in one trip. It sounds like a perfect idea to her.]
Is there anything you really want to make sure we do while we're making our way up the coastline?
Kinda depends on what time we end up in when we get to these places. But mostly, not really? I dunno much about anything north of here. Kinda lookin' forward to seein' what it's all like. I heard Seattle's cool.
[As in, the nightlife is cool. He really doesn't know anything else about it. Probably also cold and rainy, so literally cool and he doesn't really love that idea.]
You got anything you really wanna see?
[After one more sip of the wine, she's setting that glass aside and is reaching for her coke. It's just not really her thing, even though she does appreciate anything that will get her drunk. She's not looking to get tipsy at dinner though, so there's no real enjoyment or point to drinking it.]
Like we did when we first met, when it was so chilly at the lakes? We found a blanket to sleep on and had to cuddle close to stay warm and I got to wear your sweater and jacket and it was perfect.
[It's not exactly nostalgia. All of that was only a handful of months ago. But it definitely feels like it was another lifetime ago in some ways. And it would just be nice to sleep under the stars and appreciate how far they've both come since they first did when they met.]
[Or maybe it's not that bad. It's just that north of San Francisco, until they reach Seattle, looks like a whole lot of nothing to him. Any cities in between those hardly ever get mentioned and must not be worth much.
But maybe they'll find otherwise - he sure as hell hopes so or he's going to get real damn bored.
The wine is okay, but the rum is good, not that he has any real expertise in that either. He gives a sigh of satisfaction anyway.]
I just hope we get ourselves to a version of things that sucks less than this one. Don't get me wrong, your time is fine, but Dante an' those freaks saying they thought the Enders were done for? It don't sit real well with me.
We don't even know if he was telling the truth. Or if this is even our version of things. We could've hopped a few dimensions over or something. What matters is now that we're here, we make as many people as possible know we exist. We can leave some tags, light a fire somewhere in a big W and E!
[Her arms are widely gesturing in her excitement, and she ignores the cough of annoyance that comes from the table beside them. If she wants to get into talking about spreading awareness of the World Enders at their table, she can do it as loud as she wants.
This next part is whispered only to Johnnie though, and she leans across the table so he can hear it and laugh along with her.]
And maybe we can lock everyone in here when we leave and set the place on fire and use our knives to carve a tag into the bricks outside.
[He's almost taken aback for a second but it quickly turns into quiet laughter.]
I ain't fuckin' busting up my knife for a restaurant. Fuck these rich people, yeah, but I wanna take the fight to Dante an' those assholes. These people aren't fuckin' anything to me. We're gonna need some spray paint, though.
[Because yeah he absolutely will go along with this idea of Chrissy's, but not directed at some seafood dinner spot. Dante and his boys are gonna fucking pay for last night.]
That clubhouse of theirs? Wipe that thing off the fuckin' street. With as may of 'em in there as we can. Fuck those bastards. They don't got a clue who they picked a fight with.
We can do that. Let's grab everything we need and get done early. Then we can lure a whole bunch of them to their clubhouse and lock them inside.
[Actually, that idea gives her goosebumps. A little chill comes over her and she shivers, and laughs at how into violence she's become. If he doesn't want to bust up his knife here, that's fine.]
We'll need to be ready to get the hell out of here as soon as we light it up though. Just in case we don't get all of them and the others come running.
[Cute that she thinks she needs to advise him. He's not annoyed, it's just funny.
And meanwhile he's glad that she seems to be on board. The rich people thing is more of an affront to her, probably, but she needs to learn they need to put the gang first. Otherwise, what kind of World Enders even are they? These people, this place, they're a distraction at best. They can't take a restaurant down and then also go after Dante and his morons, word will spread. Or fire or cops will. Maybe all of the above.
He shakes his head, amused, and then knocks back another sip of the wine. It doesn't really go with the whiskey at all, unfortunately.]
[Her nose wrinkles up as her eyes widen a little, and she shakes her head.]
No, I haven't been doing this for more than a couple months. I'm just talking out loud so I know what to do.
[Oh gosh, she really hopes he doesn't think she's trying to boss him around or something. The thought of that mortifies her, and she soothes her anxiety by downing what's left of her glass of wine and pouring herself another.]
I guess the more I let myself not be afraid of doing things that used to scare me, I get more and more reckless.
You're doin' great, baby girl. If you gotta remind yourself to bail when it's time, then do what you gotta do. Y'know, there's shit I've learned over the years from doin' it myself where you wanna push as hard as you can, but sometimes that means being a little smart about when it's time to stop. ... Can't say I've always been real good at that, though.
[Obviously. He likes to think he's smart, that he's learned enough in life to work out when it's time to quit so he can cause problems another day, but the evidence of that is very much not actually in his favor. Maybe he's gotten a little more cautious lately, but it took actually dying to learn that, and that's a lesson most don't get to keep for themselves.]