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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
"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.]
I know we've talked about stopping and thinking before. It's just so hard to do, you know? I just get these big feelings and I act, and -
[She's gesturing widely with her hands again, and glances over at the older couple that are definitely giving her annoyed looks. She bites at her lip and sticks her hands in her lap and lowers her voice.]
I'm glad I have you here to remind me to stop and think. It's kinda like we switched, right? I used to always get you to stop and think and not do things. And now you have to do that for me.
[It's pretty funny at how much they've both changed in certain ways. She used to be afraid to even be near fire. And now here she is, imagining blowing up that old crusty white couple and setting this place on fire. It's admittedly a pretty nice fantasy.]
[Grinning, Johnnie has another deep drink of his rum - ow okay that was a lot, it does burn at that volume even for him - then eyes the menu casually again. There are desserts on there too but honestly he just wants to eat his fill of shrimp at this point. And those spicy oysters, if they're any good.]
Right when I came back, shit just didn't feel real to me. Figured I was fuckin' invincible, that nothin' I did mattered. An' that's still true! Don't think it ain't. But I gotta think about the gang when it counts an' here, close to home, it still really fuckin' counts. We go north, then fuck it. Let's tear shit apart. Make everyone fuckin' fear us wherever we go.
[That's the real difference, he's pretty sure. The gang always comes first for him and they've spent a lot of time since that road trip where he was focused on the group more than his own impulses.
Though... Plenty of those too.]
[She reaches over to shake his hand like this is a business venture or something. The waiter arrives to drop off their food right after, and Chrissy grins at the sight of all the food. She goes right for the giant plate of fried shrimp, and sighs contently after her first bite.]
Okay, this is good enough that it's worth having to act so awful earlier.
[After a handful of shrimp, she opts to try some of the other things too. She might as well, Johnnie can't eat it all by himself.]
I think I just need to do more for the gang is all. Like I did all that stuff with Zazo, but I haven't done a lot since then.
[Which probably makes her a pretty shitty member of the gang, now that she thinks about it. But they're always so busy, and when they're not the Ender is working with her. She's pretty sure he has bigger plans for her, but she needs to make sure that doesn't keep her separated from all the other World Enders.]
[Now, yeah, she didn't exactly mean to turn a bunch of guys into pavement slime, but whatever, you roll with the punches, right?
Anyway, that's enough pep talk. It's shrimp time. And smoked clams time. So many tasty appetizers.
The oysters are... Raw. Okay, he should have known that. They're covered in some sort of red spicy butter but he's never faced a raw oyster down. He picks up a half shell and eyes it. The meat slides around - it's already detached, just set in the shell for presentation.]
Ain't oysters supposed to be like... One a' those things you eat that makes you horny? What's that called?
[Fuck it, this thing looks so gross but he's a man, he can handle it. Other people here are. He knocks it back in one gulp, takes one chew, pauses as his face contorts while he tries to decide if it's good or not.
And then just swallows because that's the easiest way to get rid of it.]
Huh. Salty goo. That what swallowing come is like? Without the hot sauce.
[There are for sure people at a nearby table eyeing him with disdain on overhearing that, but he doesn't give a shit, he just nudges the plate toward Chrissy. She'll know the answer.]
Um...do you mean an aphrodisiac?
[She'll just tackle that part first, because she's able to smirk a little and tease him.]
If you want to get me horny, you should know by now it doesn't take slimy food.
[Still, she picks one up and tips it into her mouth. And the look on her face is one of shock and pure displeasure. Her nose scunches up as her eyes close, and she swallows it down so she can chase it by chugging some wine.]
Okay, I don't mind swallowing your come. I could do that all day if you'd let me. That? I don't ever want that in my mouth again.
[This is said out loud in a volume that is definitely not best described as a table whisper. Every single person around them hears and stares in horror at the conversation that's happening here.]
Pretty quickly, their waiter strides on over to their table looking genuinely irritated now but also looking like he's doing his best to put on a customer service face anyway.]
Sir and madam, please keep your conversation to yourselves or I will have to ask you to leave.
[There's another commotion by the front door, meanwhile. Someone is starting to raise a fuss about their reservation - they're late, but their seats are already claimed and they clearly feel very strongly about how the restaurant should make an exception.
Johnnie quiets down his snickering and looks back over his shoulder toward the door while their waiter hurries off to get someone's food.]
Oh, I think that dude's fuckin' - the guy! The guy you said you were. Shit, he's real fuckin' pissed off. Hey, they might actually kick us out, you think? Eat a whole lotta shrimp, baby girl!
[While he knocks back the last of his booze, both rum and wine combined. Tastes awful, one right after the other, but shit, he knows this wine is expensive, he's not leaving it without having another gulp.]
[She loudly laughs, and instead of stuffing her mouth full of shrimp, she dumps out her glass of wine and uses her hand to scoop as much as possible into the glass. There's a good amount in there, so she enjoys a few more just as she hears footsteps rapidly approaching their direction.]
Let's get outta here.
[As soon as Johnnie's out of his seat she's following, but she does double back to the table to grab the bottle of wine. There's a side door not too far from their table, and the sound of her laughter fills the restaurant as she sprints toward it, both hands full with stolen treats.
Their waiter and the host slam open the door and chase after them in the parking lot, and Chrissy laughs as she hurls the bottle of wine at Brian. She nearly cackles in delight when it makes contact with his face and then recoils to the ground and smashes. Wine goes everywhere, and she howls in victory as they make their way to the bike. As soon as she's on she turns around to flip off the entire place with her free hand.]
Get fucked, assholes!
[She turns back a second later, covering the top of her shrimp glass with one hand. This is precious cargo that has to be kept safe.]
Brian getting wine all smashed in his face is so fucking good Johnnie nearly trips and falls backward while trying to both escape and watch - he stumbles, catches himself on one hand on the pavement, then pushes back off to finish the sprint to the bike. His palm's all scraped up but he won't notice until later, with adrenaline and joy rushing through his system.
Chrissy flips them off and Johnnie howls, while riding off with his own napkin parcel tucked between his legs.]
Hell, we didn't burn shit down but we still did piss 'em off real good! Cops are gonna be lookin' for us now so keep an eye out!
[Since the restaurant will undoubtedly call the police. That will complicate the rest of their entire night for sure, but it's a big city and there must be worse crimes than stealing some shrimp for the pigs to deal with.]
[The suggestion makes her laugh, and she leans up against him a little more to try and better guard the food. There's never any cop sirens or lights that come after them, so they must make a pretty clean getaway. Eventually she urges him to pull over at a park they pass by, and once he obliges she hops off the bike and leads the way over to a picnic table so she can hop up on top and finally enjoy the rest of her shrimp.]
Next time, we should probably stick to the not fancy places.
[There's giggling though, so she's not too shaken up about everything.
She shrugs out of her jacket and sets it to the side, and enjoys the evening glow on her bare shoulders. Reclining back on one hand isn't the best way to eat fried shrimp, but she's not choking so she figures it's fine.]
Do you know what we should do next time we find a decent place? We used to talk about going on stage together, we should actually try it somewhere that will serve us all the food and drinks we want as payment. It'd be so much fun!
Grinning the whole time though, he hops up onto the table next to her and opens up his parcel. Time to finally try one of these clams - and yeah, he's glad he grabbed them. Smoky, buttery, made an absolute mess of the napkin and there's grease on his jeans now too, but they're way the hell better than the oysters.
It's a little hard to focus on food only though when Chrissy is so gorgeous next to him, all sunset and fire colors, gold and red and orange. Yeah, who needs afro-whatevers.]
Yeah, we gotta try that! We'll do it, just gotta get the right person's interest. Some little town comin' up will need performers an' we got just the thing. Guess we could practice a couple songs together on the way north. You got any you really wanna do?