2013.03.15 - Life in the Fast Lane

(Language warning)

For being one in the morning out in Bristol, the weather isn't so bad. There's no wind and only a light dusting of fresh snow covering up the roads, doomed to vanish with the coming daylight. It's peaceful, pleasant, and quiet up within the hills outside of Gotham. The perfect night for something to go wrong.

Also the perfect night for everything to go exactly right.

The perimeter fence is easily climbed over by one shadowy figure in a heavy black trench. Two guard dogs are quickly put down with shots from a tranquilizer pistol. A small charge is placed upon the automated front gates. Child's play. The real fun lies a little further beyond, in Mister Eccentric's private car collection. Awaiting the lone thief beyond is a feast for the nightvision-enhanced senses, including her mark of the eve. One of the vehicles residing within is a, in immaculate condition. Hemi-Orange, black trim, an appallingly low number of figures on the odometer.

Perfect.

Also entirely easy to slip into, trick the tumblers on the ignition, and fire up for the fastest ride in its long, lethargic life.

With the growl of rolling thunder the muscle car tears out of the garage and down the cobblestone driveway, the gates exploding and swinging outward upon their hinges at the very moment that the orange monster tears past, kicking up thin sprays of powder in its wake.

Next stop: Gotham. Without headlights.

Who in the hell is up at one in the morning?

Kurt is when he's hungry. Or restless. Or working late. Or on the prowl. Or after attending a late game at any of the multiple arenas.. or.. okay. He's usually up at one in the morning.

With a jacket wrapped about him, Kurt's got a bag of 'sliders' that he's ready to bring home. Or to eat on the way home as he walks with a redhead. It's dark, and she's obviously intoxicated.. and he's helping her stand a little straighter, walk a little less wobbly. (Probably out of guilt.) She talks a little loudly, probably to hear herself, and it's with a slightly.. nasal, squeaky voice, all while Kurt keeps his voice down.

"We'll get you home.." //Oh Lord, thank God I can teleport out without having to gnaw my arm off!// "I'll call you in the morning to make sure you're alright.." //What a guy!//

Nighttime. Roy's other job, when he can let his hair down, so to speak, and prowl around as the superhero known as Arsenal. Free from the confines of SHIELD, so to speak, Roy is prowling the street. A hot dog stand here, a roast chestnut stand there, a coffee stall...

All right, so it was a -slow- night. And Roy was getting ready to pack it up, call it a night, and go home. The most danger he'd seen these days? Bums piddling in the alleyways, people horking in the streets... he could just see it now. Putting people up on charges of delinquency...

Nah. Better to go home.

And so... to the Arsecycle.

Now, logic might dictate that if you're in stolen property and trying to make a break for it, and no one is giving chase, that one should not go out of their way to draw attention to themselves.

Logic was not invited along for this drive.

The throaty mechanical roar reverberates off of the buildings, channeled down the dark, still streets. The pale yellow glow from lamp posts start to reveal the enraged pumpkin on wheels as it barrels down the street, pointing straight as an arrow despite the back end constantly wishing to sneak out and attempt to overtake the front axle. The roads, they're a bit slick tonight.

The only people out tonight, a pair carefully walking down the sidewalk with the woman looking like she had a bit too much to drink, are passed by with a deafening, rib-vibrating howl, spraying more of the delicate white powder into the air as the Charger slides across three empty lanes and skates through an intersection, the back wheels spinning freely every inch of the way.

Leave it up to the -only other car- to be out on these streets tonight to cross the next intersection, the Charger grunting once as the clutch is dropped to the floor alongside the brake pedal, sliiiiding on up to neatly rest at the line of a red light, angled twenty-five degrees out of true. It's almost like an open invitation to someone like Arsenal, who happens to be camped out nearby.

As luck would have it, neither of the doors are locked. The car was parked without keys in a locked showroom surrounded by high-tech security and a fence. Why would the -doors- need to be locked?

Kurt can hear the rumble and roar of the engine for quite some distance away, and as it begins to get closer, he moves to push the redhead a little closer to the buildings. The redhead, of course, makes objection, her nasal New York accent sounding in the night. "But Rolf.. why'd'ja go an' do.."

This.. this is what he gets. Punishment for never truly finishing confession?

The pumpkin on wheels roars by in the next few seconds, leaving anything the woman has to say buried by the noise of the engine. Thank goodness for small miracles.. and Kurt simply can't help himself. He makes to call out to the stupid driver that simply can't seem to keep their car on the road when he catches a familiar..

Mein Gott.

Kurt exhales, looks to his.. not-date, and back to the car.. and back..

"I will apologize for this later.." before Kurt shakes his head slowly and..


 * bamf*

To appear inside the car.. the two of them, Mona (the drunk redhead) ending up on Kurt's lap in the front seat, legs and arms everywhere..

The car skidding to a stop had a familiar face, one that stood out in the darkness, and there was -no- way Roy, riding alongside on the cycle, was going to ignore that. Shoving the cycle over to the side, Roy grabs for the door, opens it...

... and is met by a bellowing amount of smoke and demonic eyes.

"GOD!"

They didn't call Roy Harper Speedy for no reason, and his first reaction is to immediately bring one fist up in a jab towards the demonic eyes, and then follow that through with a full-on blow to knock out. "What the -hell- did you get yourself mixed up into?" he bellows, before trying to cram in the car as Domino spins back out on the road. Hell, this was crowded and jammed, and he was pretty much in a -fight- with... too many people in the front seat!

Turns out Sulfur works as a good accelerant, if the sudden revving of an eight cylinder engine is any indication. In a flash there's not one, not two, but -three people- all fighting over the front seat! Sitting but a foot away is the bugeye-goggled figure named Domino, one hand on the wheel, one hand now holding a big ol' black pistol at the party all fighting over Who's on First.

"The hell..! Blue? -Harper!- Drunk chick?! Would you guys please -stop fighting over there?!- I've got--"

Reflections of headlights flash across the mirrors as a number of cars come sailing through the intersection behind them, following the easy path left through the snow.

"--Bigger problems."

On second thought they can figure out seating arrangements for themselves. Still holding that pistol she reaches back for the shifter, the Charger screaming away but fighting for every ounce of traction upon the street. The next moment it's anything but straight as an arrow.

There's not a lot of room in that front seat, and Kurt's tail makes a grab for Roy's wrist even as the man tries to jab him in the eyes. Mona is wriggling on his lap, trying to find some drunk purchase, and she simply isn't finding any. Kurt grunts as his solar plexus is elbowed, and no matter what Dom is trying to do (like drive the car!), he's trying to keep from getting hit AND maneuvering with a drunk chick on him.

His other hand reaches out to block the punch, but even as he does.. he's suddenly gone in a cloud of brimstone.. stench. Nothing like rotten egg-smell to interfere with that 'new car smell'.. and he reappears in the back seat.

"I have shot-- what are you doing, leibchen.. that was a red light!"

"Hell, Dom, you know this demon?" Roy struggles, as he tries to fight and... suddenly there is more smoke, and then he's confronting some drunk redheaded chick.

He'd had nights like this on his bender days.

Trying to grapple her to submission, Roy looks back towards Domino, and back at the other cars. "Didn't we -just- do this a few weeks ago, Dommie?" Roy exclaims, as he pulls on the wrists, grasps the redheaded woman by the waist, and then proceeds to try and push her over the car seats into the back, headfist. Probably should have thought that through a bit more, what with her flailing legs...

But oh, the view.

The car's barely steadied in another freakishly long slide, holding even as Domino follows up into second, then -still- sliding into third. "Yes, I -know- that, thank you, Kurt."

Another bamf. More smoke. The poor heater vents can only help push that fog out of the way so quickly. "Gah, would you stop that! I'm kinda busy trying to not get us all killed, here!" Then there's Roy. "Sometimes I really don't," she grumbles. "Hold onto your new girlfriend."

Another howl of the engine, another crazy tail-slide out across the street. Now she's heading toward the beltway.

"It was irritating then and it's irritating now, Harper. Would you--Gah, her breath -reeks,- how much did this chick put away tonight? Don't let her hork in the--

Another lone car lays on the horn as headlights flash through the Charger's cabin, the hell-bent pumpkin sliding to avoid it then sweeping across another two empty lanes. -There's- an illegal pass.

"--I swear to -God- Blue, if she horks in this car..."

Dom's still got a tail. Lots of them. Five pairs of headlights and one thin, blue thing whipcording in the rearview mirror. "Hey, keep it down back there, willya? Look, since you guys seem intent on crashing my evening it would be a -real- big help if you could help me deal with those guys back there."

"I was trying not to get my eyes gouged out.. by.. you know him?" Kurt was about ready to bamf the guy out of the car! Mind, he doesn't take offense at being called a demon. In fact, it's a little refreshing to be taken seriously! For the most part.

Mona is decidedly.. stuck between the seats. She's flailing, which doesn't do much to aid her cause, and her foot seeks purchas on anything.. just anything. Squealing at the rough hands as they try to push her over, she demands, "Rolf, will you help me?!" She groans softly as the car begins .. well .. continues its evasive maneuvers, and she shakes her head. "I doan feel too good.."

"If she does.." Kurt begins, waving his hand, "I'm back here.. but won't be for long."

Kurt looks back, finally, as he's cued in on those lights in the back.. and his brows rise. "What did you do, leibchen?" As opposed to what did //they// do? "This isn't.." one of the Professor's cars. "Did you buy a new car?"

Of course, Kurt already knows the answer to that one.

"Hell, Dommie, don't you even have any -downtime-? One of these days, I swear..." Roy says, already getting his crossbows armed and ready, as the window is rolled down. "If the demon's a friend, I've got to tell you... he -really- has good tastes in sacrifices. Nice legs, but can you keep her from kicking around?"

Being thumped by one soft leg isn't helping and Roy immediately grabs for the heels she's wearing just so she won't impale anyone. No time to really keep cramming her in the back, that's left to Kurt.

"So Dommie, who did you tick off this time?" Roy asks conversationally as he checks the sights ahead of him to be sure that he won't get whacked by -something- with an unconventional car spin, and then sticks his head out the window, and aiming to take out the wheels as usual.

"The only one here that I -don't- know is Miss Boozy von Floozy," Domino growls in response. Adding a healthy tone of sarcasm, she says "And now that you're all -here- we can paint each other's toenails and talk about boys."

Kurt's words are not the most reassuring. "You being back there won't clean vomit out of the upholstry, unless there's some crazy teleport trick you know that I don't."

Pause, fourth gear, -stomp,- -Roar.-

"Kurt, contain the Floozy or she's going to be my first shot at these guys! Gees, I go for -one- little evening drive and everyone's all up my grill. Downtime is for people that enjoy being bored, Roy."

Freeway entrance coming up, go go go!

"Technically, yes," she answers Kurt about the new car. Then to Roy, she motions over her shoulder with the barrel of her pistol. "Those guys. That's an easy one."

Wait.. demon.. sacrifice?

"What?!" and the nasal New York accented voice rises in alarm. "What do you think.. you CREEP!" The flailing begins again in earnest, and this time, rather than trying to get 'Rolf' to help, she starts beating on him with her hands. Or at least tries to reach, wedged as she is. "I'm no freak!!"

Kurt's glowing, pupil-less yellow eyes widen at the words, and he sputters. "Sacrifice.. hardly!" Of course, as Mona begins to flail once again, trying to get at him, he easily deflects the weak blows given in his direction. "Besides.. aren't you supposed to use virgins?"

Was that his outside voice?

Mona screeches again in insult. "I ain't easy, though!"

Kurt shakes his head, and at Roy's question regarding who she's ticked off? The blue, fuzzy el-- demon chimes in, "I'm not very happy with her at the moment!" Though he's pretty sure the question wasn't specifically posed to him.

"Teleportation doesn't work like that, sorry.." Though, he's not. "As for your evening drive. Is it their car?" No, check that. "Was it their car?"

Twisting around again to look at them following, he exhales. "Are they the bad guys, Domino?"

"Nah, that's unicorns! I figure virgin sacrifices are so rare they're reserved for the big dogs! You know, Lucifer, Satan, Beelbebub..."

Roy's blithe commments belays the non-lethality of his objectives, as he shoots out the tires from under one pursuer, aimed at blocking off the others behind them.

Pulling his head back into the car just in time to avoid being knocked off by a sudden turn around a lamppost, Roy barks at Domino, "Hey! If you're tryin' to rid of me, don't come driving right -up- to me like that next time!"

More flailing legs keeps blocking Roy's view of Domino, and Roy finally grabs the legs, shoves them down against the seat, and delivers a -whack- to her butt. "Simmer down there, lady! You can resume your ritual -after- we're done here!"

Domino drops her forehead onto the side of her pistol as the three of them start going off on some completely bizarre tangent involving sacrifice and virgins. "I'd really like to have a nice, pleasant evening, -all to myself-... Is that too much to ask for? Really? Christ, -shut up- Harper!"

HoCrap!

Dom nearly drops her gun as she darts back to the shifter, the Charger pitching forward and wobbling back and forth before darting down another road.

"Almost missed my turn--YES, they're the bad guys Kurt, can you please focus already?"

Oh, to hell with it--Not you, Kurt. "I came up to the stupid guy passing down Ninth, not -you!- What were you even -doing- out there at this hour? Oh..god, you're gonna say 'heroing,' aren't you..."

The thought gets shoved out of her mind as she glances back into the mirror. One car down, plenty more to go. And they're starting to lean out the windows...

"Oh shit, they're gonna shoot. No, no no no, don't shoot the car guys, -please- don't shoot the car..!" She quickly rolls down her own window then tosses the gun from one hand to the next, leaning out and cocking her arm back to fire upside down while 'aiming' through the mirror. "Don't Hurt The Car!!"

"Azazel.." Kurt mutters. "Though he isn't a 'virgin' kind, I don't think."

Kurt holds on as the car skids through, and turns down the side street even as Dom continues her explanation 'on the run'. "Ja.." He'll go with that! Heroing. "Is that even a word?"

Kurt waits for the answer to his question from Domino before he takes a deep breath.. and nods. He leans forward to pat Mona on the head (as opposed to the butt that Harper has before him.. and before he moves, he blinks at their driver. "Can you even shoot like that?"

He's not going to wait for the answer, however, before another cloud of brimstone chokes the air in the back seat, causing Mona to gasp.. and finally release the contents of her stomach.. on top of the bag of burgers that Kurt was saving for later! (And on the floor...)


 * bamf*
 * bamf*

Kurt reappears in one of the cars, and as the driver looks at him in complete and utter surprise, the elf pulls his arm back and hits him, knocking him out. Which, of course, makes the car just a little difficult to drive. In the rearview mirror of the chased vehicle, it can probably be seen that one car (not the one with the shot tire) is weaving dangerously back and forth, threatening road signs and various phone poles along the thoroughfare. It slows, causing some consternation to the car behind it, and there are a couple of pot shots taken in surprise by a car next to it.

"If you wanted a pleasant evening, Domino... maybe going -out- and drawing the attention of a zillion angry ... what the -hell- did you piss off out there, anyway, is that the -Ghiradelli mob- out there?" Roy retorts, before pulling his body out to seat on the windowstill again.

The car being wobbled around is ignored with the exception of a "okay, -talk- about being driven by demons...", and more bolts are unleashed at the cars, this time at the car radiators for variety. C'mon, pop some steam already.

Ducking back in, Roy takes a whiff. "Aw man, what the hell, in-and-out burgers -out- on the East Coast?"

"I was asking Red here, Blue. I honestly don't care what your excuse is," Domino intervenes. The poor guy's been hanging around her so much lately, it's no surprise to her that he'd still be wide awake at this hour.

Finally, a question which she can answer! 'Can she even shoot like that?' A puzzled glance is passed Kurt's way through the mirror, complete with a white-bordered brow hooking upward above a black-bordered brow. She answers with a question of her own, "Can't you?"

BLAM-BLAM!

Shell casings ping off the side of the Charger's body as the shots sail back and crack the windshield of one of the cars in pursuit as it neatly drives directly into their path, thanks to Kurt causing one of the others to lose control. As his unlikely passenger likewise..loses..control...

"Augh, -shit,- damnit, no! Gah..!" At a loss of how to properly express her feelings the one-sided commentary quickly degenerates into even worse language, setting the warmed pistol across her lap as she slings the heavy car around a much slower moving semi.

"You guys all suck!"

With Kurt out of the car Dom quickly glances back to Roy, the start of a faint smirk curling across her lips. "I don't know, did the Ghiradelli boss used to own a Hemi Orange seventy-one?"

Mona's groaning again, and is coughing and sputtering with the acrid stench of rotted eggs lingering in her nostrils. It's not long after, however, that she starts to cry. "I want to go hoooome!" followed with a good amount of wriggling.. and finally, flops into the back seat. "I want to go home! Where's Rolfie?" Forgotten, then was the exhange only a couple of seconds ago?

"Ghiradelli?" The sound of disbelief is in the tones, and Mona starts again, "I don't want to die!"

Kurt, for his part, is working on keeping the car from careening into the side of a building. Slowing it down enough, he catches the fender against a lamp post, causing the airbag to explode in its deployment.

Kurt is long gone out of that car, and with a *bamf*, returns to the back seat only to land atop..

"Was--?"

Ew.

"Probably his pride and joy. You didn't...! For the spirits' sake, don't -ever- cry about not having a quiet evening when you're messing with -them-!" Roy grunts, as he grabs his bow, unfolds it, and loads it. Checking the road ahead of them, Roy flashes a grin as he grabs two arrows.

Once more onto the windowstill, Roy takes aim at a fire hydrant. Piercing arrow, then.

The water explodes sideways out into the street as the car drives by, and then immediately turns into a large -frozen- horizontal log of ice, complete with frozen ice rink surface around it, as Roy follows that up with a freeze arrow for the remaining cars. Have an ice day, gentlemen.

Pulling back in, Roy glances at the back seat. "Getting cozy back there, devil? I thought y'all were gonna wait till this was over."

"I want you to go home, too!" Domino snipes back at Mona without thinking about the words. "Settle down already, they don't have a positive ID on any of us!" Except maybe Nightcrawler, since he went and introduced himself. Gees, Blue..! Stow the showmanship and just teleport a wheel off of their car, or something!

"Yeah, because I make a point of doing this every night, Harper. One time. -One!-" she exclaims while holding up a single finger for emphasis.

Though speaking of Kurt, here he is again. In the upchuck. "Oh, sure, just rub it in a little, that won't make it harder to get out," she darkly mutters. "He has a name, you know." Two, in fact! "Arsenal, Nightcrawler. 'Crawler, my biggest fanboy."

Just a little sliiide to the left, a little sliide to the right... That car with the twice-shot windshield lost some of his visibility back there. As he tries to cut in to nudge the Charger's rear wheels out of the way he misses, skids, overcompensates, and -slams- into a foot-high concrete barrier separating an off-ramp from the rest of the highway. In a heartbeat the black sedan is cartwheeling off of the street, flinging pieces of itself far and wide with every jarring impact with the ground.

"Hah. Gonna take more than On-Star's help for that one."

Mona screeches the moment Kurt pops back in, and tries to crawl out the back window. "You're all insane!" Instant sobriety.

Kurt is, indeed, back, and he's got that //look// on his face. The disgusted, 'I'm going to go home and take a shower' expression. Twisting around to look behind him again, trying not to touch much of anything else (he's got it in his fur!), he catches the hydrants spitting out their contents, only to form that iced sheen in the streets. "I will have a detailer look at it," he murmurs, his expression a wince.

Ew.

At the introduction, however, Kurt turns about to offer his three-fingered hand. "A pleasure, Arsenal."

His attention isn't long in that direction, however, before he looks behind again.. and exhales in a sigh. "We'll be reading about this in the papers."

Mona, now, is trying to get as far away from Kurt as she can, though now the bag of burgers is noticed.. and if anything makes the blue fuzzy sad? Wasted hamburgers! "I am not trying to get cozy back here? I suggest you try sitting in.." Barf.. mixed with all sorts of beverages.. and lord knows what else.

"Pleasure, Nightcrawler," Arsenal says, barely batting an eyebrow as he shakes. Mostly because he's been around much crazier things, which probably says a lot about the life Roy Harper's led. "Might want to clean up back there, Dommie's picky about her... 'property'," the ginger agent says with a touch of sarcasm.

There's a light shrug. Roy wasn't going to sweat the loss of some mob boss's property. He was, however, jerking a thumb at Domino. "Please. I'm -not- her biggest fanboy. Although she's definitely got assets worth admiring."

A brief pause, an -expectant- pause, one just begging for a backhand from Domino, before Roy continues. "Has she shown you her war chest yet? Talk about -stacked-. Guns up the wazoo..."

"Nicest thing anyone's said about me all night, thanks," Domino deadpans back to Mona. "Still gonna kick your ass for throwing up."

A detailer. Ergh. That means her client is going to have to wait longer, and the detailer's going to be able to identify the --

"Don't worry about it," she tells Kurt in a defeated sigh. The windows are still down, she'd rather be half frozen than cooped up with sulfur and whatever Mona consumed over the last few hours. And soggy burgers.

They -will- be reading about this in the papers..! "Looks like I made the Gotham Gazette headline again," she says to none in particular.

Then Roy, predictably, opens his mouth. Dom is just starting to put her handgun away when he mentions her 'assets.' A brief sidelong glance is immediately followed through with the base of the grip of her weapon -thwapping- him across the sternum. "I don't have to slow down to let you out, Harper."

Think, Domino. Gotta get this car off the street. First matter, ditch the 'hostage.' She can't just drop Mona off at the nearest corner (thank you, conscience.) Which, of course, means...

"Where's the Floozy live?"

"Ja.. she does," and Kurt whistles softly. He shifts a little in the seat now, twitching his tail, making sure that it doesn't get .. dampened.

Mona's querulous voice chimes in again, "I just want to go home.."

There's a moment before an exhaled sigh comes from the back once again. "When it is safe, I should see her home. I was in the middle of heroing. So, Domino.. if you would be so kind?"

Arsenal's comment regarding the war chest brings a snorted laugh from the blue fuzzy. "I have removed a good number of those weapons, und they keep appearing."

Domino's offer is met with Kurt sliding forward once again, looking between the two in the front in order to get his bearings. "Drop us off over there, und I'll take it from there, leibchen."

_Whoof_.

And after a minute to get his breath back, getting his bow folded back and put away, Roy glances back up towards Nightcrawler. "You keep trying to -disarm- her? You nuts?" he asks. Might as well ask people to stop breathing. "When you're dealin' with Dommie here, the thing to do is to just let her keep shooting, and then when she's out of ammo, to hand her another one and keep going. Now getting her to have -fun- when she doesn't have a gun in her hand... hmmm..."

A thump in the road gets Roy's mind back towards Nightcrawler. "Ahhh nevermind that, you get the lady home. So you're -not- really a demon, are you?"

"Stop trying to act like you know me, Arsenal," Domino says in a low tone, finally peeling the goggles away from her eyes then flicking on the headlights. Wouldn't -that- just be the kicker to get pulled over by a tired cop after what they just went through? Time for incognito.

Ruin all her fun...

"You help me get the inside cleaned up and I'll get you burgers from your choice of location, Blue." Just..try not to read too far into that. She's not exactly asking him out on a date. Quite.

"You're right on one point, I don't do 'unarmed' well. Anyone can tell you that much."

The Charger dips and gracefully slides in toward the side of the street where Kurt pointed out, the slush packing in front of the tires as the heavy car rocks to a halt. "Get her home. You've got my number. We'll catch up." Pity that he already did his bar-hopping for the night. That..just leaves her with Roy.

Good-ie.

"Ja, I really am."

Kurt smiles, showing his sharpened teeth. "We are friends as well." No advice needed, thank you! "But.. ja. I promised I would see her home."

As the car pulls up to the side, Kurt scoots over and opens up the back door to get out, and holds it for Mona. He .. smells disgusting. "I will help, ja. Call me when you are parked, und I'll come." It won't be the first time he's pulled an all-nighter! "Und.. you don't owe me the burgers. I'll go out again tomorrow und get some."

Mona slides out after and gives Kurt a.. long look. She caught the question.. and his response. Looking at the blue fuzzy elf with sober eyes, she's.. "I'll take the subway, thanks." The trains are still running after all, which leaves Kurt on the sidewalk.. staring.

With a shrug, Kurt pulls the collar of his coat up.. and if Dom's pulled away, he'll start his walk back towards a station that'll eventually take him to his car, parked.. not in the immediate area.

"And that's about the extent people're allowed to know you, it seems," Arsenal replies, reaching out to punch Domino lightly on the shoulder. Still, Roy doesn't say anything until Kurt and Mona are dropped off. There's a glance back towards Kurt and Mona, before Roy jerks a thumb back there. "You think he's gonna be okay like that?"

The alabaster-skinned woman could see where this is going to go. She lets the two out, gently pulls away (for privacy, go figure,) and keeps an eye on the mirror as they talk.

And one walks away.

"Not a chance," Domino replies. A little bump to the accelerator brings the large, heavy muscle car sliding about like an ice skater until it's facing the direction they had come from, allowing momentum carry it right back to where the lone blue form is standing.

Of course, she can't help but lean toward the open window with a broad grin as she rolls on up. "Hey! Pretty sweet ride, huh?"

Joking aside, she twitches her head toward the interior. "C'mon, Fuzzy. Let's getcha cleaned up. After that, -I- want a burger. Up to you if you guys want to tag along."

Kurt's got his hands deep in his pocket, and as he begins to walk, there are taillights that light, and as the car swings around, the fuzzy elf rolls his eyes. Still, he chuckles, "Does your father know you've got his car out so late?"

There's a half smile that remains, and his brows rise. His tones hold that 'eeeeeh'.. sound, "The back seat? Again?" Still, rather than putting a hand on the door, he disappears into the aether, only to reappear in the back seat. "It's a better smell," is given in explanation.

"We'll get the car cleaned, und hopefully I'll get cleaned up. Then.. Sonic? Where they have those cute girls on rollerskates?"

Roy carefully keeps his face straight at the mention of the car's owner, and instead laughs. "I wouldn't mind -that- either. C'mon, Dommie, get the car on the road. Might as well let 'daddy' see just where the car's been. Although I gotta tell you, Nightcrawler... this stench thing... it -kinda- helps dampen that smell of partly-digested burger. Maybe if you add, I dunno... fire?"