RED Spy (
un_beau_coquin) wrote in
tosbox2014-11-20 01:17 pm
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Entry tags:
making my way downtown
[The big issue here isn't getting fired. No, Spy will be fine for now, considering all that he's saved. Losing a resource as powerful as RED and Mann Co in general is a blow indeed, but Spy can get by. Right now, he's more concerned about living and making sure none of his loose ends catch up to him.
Most of the things he's taking back with him are either essential or expensive. The weapon magazines and catalogues sent by RED are still sitting in his old quarters, along with some leisure books and even some pieces of his old uniform. The suit has always been a part of his look, so he keeps some of it; they make for some decent padding for the wine stored in the trunk of his car.
With his tie slung around his neck and his jacket over his arm, Spy makes a mental checklist of all he needs. His life is pretty much stowed away in his wallet: bank cards, multiple IDs, cash, miniature cloaking device, plane tickets... He pats his pants pocket for the only thing that doesn't fit in his wallet: his passport. Not that he'll need it for the flight, but it's good to have these things just in case.
A tiny part of his brain nags at him, urging him to feel sentimental about leaving his workplace of over four years. But to hell with that - god knows this won't be the last he's seen of them.
When Scout hobbles up to his car, a mess of stupidity and arm casts, Spy is tempted to slam the door in his face and make him eat his dust trail. But, of course, the little mongrel has to pull the mother card and all of a sudden Spy feels responsible.]
I have a jet leaving in fifty minutes. You've got twenty. Get in the car.
Most of the things he's taking back with him are either essential or expensive. The weapon magazines and catalogues sent by RED are still sitting in his old quarters, along with some leisure books and even some pieces of his old uniform. The suit has always been a part of his look, so he keeps some of it; they make for some decent padding for the wine stored in the trunk of his car.
With his tie slung around his neck and his jacket over his arm, Spy makes a mental checklist of all he needs. His life is pretty much stowed away in his wallet: bank cards, multiple IDs, cash, miniature cloaking device, plane tickets... He pats his pants pocket for the only thing that doesn't fit in his wallet: his passport. Not that he'll need it for the flight, but it's good to have these things just in case.
A tiny part of his brain nags at him, urging him to feel sentimental about leaving his workplace of over four years. But to hell with that - god knows this won't be the last he's seen of them.
When Scout hobbles up to his car, a mess of stupidity and arm casts, Spy is tempted to slam the door in his face and make him eat his dust trail. But, of course, the little mongrel has to pull the mother card and all of a sudden Spy feels responsible.]
I have a jet leaving in fifty minutes. You've got twenty. Get in the car.
close enough
It's a joke. Come now, t'is is a 'appy time. Don't be so serious.
[He might be more convincing if he wasn't so smug.
Still, eventually they end up in another small town somewhere in the desert that seems to stretch on forever. He stops for gas before he parks somewhere he deems acceptable, then goes for the box under his seat. There's a knife, a gun, and another wallet in there filled with cash and a few of his fake IDs.]
I'm sure I should 'ave enough money in 'ere for at least a 'ot dog.
no subject
I changed my mind. I want a friggin' steak. And lobster!
no subject
Now we're talking. Let's find out if t'ey even serve such food in a tiny place such as t'is, shall we?
[He locks the car, though he's slightly distracted by the cards in his wallet. A frown pulls at his mouth, then he sighs and reaches for his mask.]
I'm so sorry for the delay, friend
Prob'ly not, but we can go big somewhere else. Ain't like either of us can fly outta here til we cross the state lines anyway, right?
no problem! i'm happy to see a tag anytime :)
[Ducking his head, he pulls off the balaclava. He touches the skin near his eyes, then glances back at his ID.]
If t'ey 'ave a phone, I should be able to get a more convenient mode of travel set up. For now, per'aps we should focus on getting some real food in us.
[As one might expect, Spy is pretty self-conscious about going without his mask after working with RED for so long, but it's way too conspicuous for an everyday setting. Hell, the jumpsuits are one thing; add the mask and he's basically a criminal walking free. Not that that isn't true, but.]
you're still my favorite, you know. it's just been all the school lately
[ Man, all of this is making Scout hungry as hell. It's all he can do to entertain himself by lining the little figurines he has up on the dash, flipping through the other things he's plucked to pull money from wallets or the stray small knife. ]
You mean someone actually talks to your ass outside of the states?
[ Because really, Scout can't not talk when a thought occurs to him. ]
:') i understand completely. hell's gonna break loose for us over here in like two weeks ahhaha
[Rolling his eyes. He reaches out to lightly cuff Scout's ear before he gets out of the car.]
Come now, or else I will get you t'e most phallic looking 'otdog I can find.
we will survive
[ Like a year or two should put you on an American accent. Should. Man, maybe Spy's accent is a disability, how should he know, now? ]
Like you control the hotdog production.
[ Grumble. Man, he loves hotdogs, though. ]
also curious, what's your time zone? if you don't mind me asking.
[The town is as small and dusty as Teufort, but the patrons are smart enough to look wary as the two enter. Spy tugs at his suit jacket, closes it over his jumpsuit, smooths back his hair.]
Anyway, I 'ave contacts bot' 'ere and overseas. 'Opefully my absence will be overlooked.
I'm EST, so it's 4am right now and I'm tagging cuz ILU. And you?
We been in a long time, Spy. What if your contacts have moved on?
yeeep same i should really go to sleep but... like... tagging...
[Scout gets a grin at that, a crooked, almost mirthless thing.]
T'ough I suppose we could always resort to petty crimes. Or, if you are feeling brave and per'aps reckless, we could do somet'ing bigger.
[There's an eyebrow waggle with that one.]
welp I ain't helping lol
We've always got Boston.
[ He smirks at the other man. ]
But if you got something exciting, bruddah, I'm there.
CLEARLY but i love it
[But he does find a phone eventually, something similar to the deal Sniper always used back home. His face is composed the entire time he messes with it.]
me 2
Either way.
[ He hangs out as Spy chats on the phone, at first starting making funny faces at him through the screen or pulling himself into handstands. When he gets bored, however ( all too soon ) he's back to the car, lounging with the door open, singing softly to the figurines. ]
no subject
It's 'ardly what I would call trustwort'y, but someone may be willing to provide plane tickets to Boston once we get out of the Badlands. T'ey provided coordinates, so I may need some assistance navigating...
[He trails off when he notices Scout's position in relation to his toys.]
What are you doing.
no subject
What? You got somethin'?
[ Tossing the toys to the floorboard for now. ]
no subject
Do you know 'ow to read a map?
no subject
Hell yeah I do! Who doesn't?
[ Somewhat. ]
no subject
Idiots like you.
[He whips the toy in the direction of Scout's head before trudging over to the driver's seat.]
What I was saying is t'at I was given coordinates somewhere outside of t'e Badlands. Apparently t'ere will be someone waiting for me who 'as tickets to Boston.
no subject
Fine, but you mean us, right? We got a map in the glove compartment.
[ For the better part of New Mexico and Texas. Scout knees the glove compartment and pulls the thing just to be sure. Yep. ]
So... we gettin' some chow or not?
[ Spreading the map before Spy to observe. ]
no subject
[He cracks a grin before leaning over and examining the map.]
Oui, oui. Let me just...
[He stretches his reach to grope around the glove compartment for a pen. When he comes up empty, he sighs and pulls out his knife to scratch a mark into their destination.]
Alright. T'at was my original intention when we stopped 'ere, I suppose I got distracted.