savetheearth | handwritten;

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handwritten;

[The message starts off with a few unevenly-spaced dots as he taps his black biro against the paper. His handwriting is spidery and sprawling, but legible.]

Well, don't I feel special.
One minute I'm minding my own business and the next I'm having a string of numbers pushed into my head and finding my way around this merry fucking mess.
That was rude, by the way.
What if I was driving or something.

[dot... dot dot]

Either this is working or I'm getting concerned about making an ass of myself for no reason.
If it isn't then who would even give a damn anyway.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yeah, you bet that's what I'm gonna do.

You out on the streets again?

The big park close to Dirk's neighborhood. Yeah, his parents have been home and they've been pretty adamant they don't want trash in their house. You know how it goes.

Yeah. My sister can be a real bwitch when she gets something into her head.

I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Sit tight.

She's something alright. I'll be here.

[It's around fifteen minutes before headlights belonging to a red Mazda 3 flash around the nearest corner and the car pulls to a stop.

Richard gets out, looking more ruffled than usual, casting his eyes about for the kid as he leans one arm against the roof of the vehicle.]

[He'd climbed out of the tree when Richard told him he was on his way and moved closer to the parking lot. He stuck to the safety of a nearby tree to try to stay out of the light drizzle as best he could, the hood of his worn grey (and lightly singed) hoodie pulled low over his face.

Once he spotted the headlights he trotted out to meet Richard, some sort of strange wrapped parcel in tow.]

Hey. Fancy seeing you here.

[He was trying to act casual and nonchalant, and trying even harder to cover up the slight tenderness in his stride.]

[He huffs out a sharp sigh through his nose, tapping the car roof.]

Get in.

[Mostly because the heating is on inside the car, to be honest. When he's pulled the driver side door shut he turns the engine off, but leaves the radio on.]

How long has it been this time?

[Uh oh, he sounds annoyed. Tony hops in without argument, of everyone Richard is one of the few he doesn't like to irritate beyond his patience.

Not because he's afraid of him or anything like that, he just respects him more than anyone else.]

Ah, when did Snakezilla trash everything? Been the better part of a month on and off, I guess.

[Oh man warm yes please. He hunkers down in the seat, thunking his strange parcel on the floor on accident. It sounds oddly metallic.]

Damn it--

[He pushes a hand through his hair, turns in his seat, looks about to say something - maybe tell him off, tell him that he should have said if he needed somewhere to stay - but instead he just shifts back and starts the car, puling out onto the street.]

You're gonna be the death of me, kid.

[He knew what Richard was going to say, and braced for it, staring at his own knees so he didn't have to see the reprimanding look. But nothing came, and he just blinked mutely in the man's direction as they pulled out. Hastily he buckled his seat belt, settling in for the ride.]

Heh. Keeps things interesting, don't you think?

[He fidgets a bit, knowing that really wasn't the thing to say.]

I couldn't ask. Not with everything that's been going on, I couldn't say anything.

[Instead he chose to answer the unspoken question.]

[He grunts irritably, jaw tense as he taps his fingers against the steering wheel. It's still a lot to take in.

He's not taking his eyes off the road but there's still more of his attention on Tony than is probably safe.

... Did he just run a red light?]

Yeah, I get that, Tony. I get that, I get you couldn't tell me shit, but you're gonna have to explain to me what part of it meant you couldn't ask for a fucking bed for the night.

[He did, and he got a squeak out of Tony who hunkered down further in the seat over it. Don't do that, Richard, he's not good with traffic accidents okay. He shot the man a wary glance at the question and reached up to pull his hood down, showing off the unnaturally white hair he now possessed instead of his usual sandy brown.]

The part where you'd ask questions I couldn't answer.

[He picked a bad time to glance across to see what the deal was. The brakes slam on and he nearly completely loses control of the car, pulling abruptly to a crooked stop halfway up the sidewalk.

Good thing it's late.]

What.

[He probably shouldn't have shown him in the car, he realizes that a moment too late. Tony lets out an alarmed shout and promptly curls up on himself, hugging his knees and shaking while trying not to cry and freak out.

Not working it was happening anyway.]

Damn it Richard the hell you doing?

[He snapped, trying to cover up absolute terror with irritation and it really wasn't working out so well. Don't mind him, having a fit. He'll be fine in a minute.]

Shit, shit, sorry-- what the fuck are you doing showing me crap like that while I'm driving?

[Shit. He gets a hand on Tony's shoulder, rubbing firmly. He's really still too wound up for this.]

Okay. We're okay.

[Deep breaths, slow breaths, don't hyperventilate it won't help anything.]

Sorry.

[Muttered from between his knees. Nope, not coming out, but thank goodness they weren't dead. Everything was fine, he was just freaking out over nothing. Eventually he sat up just enough to peek out the window to make sure that they were, in fact, not crushed to pieces, then promptly pulled his hood back down.]

I won't tell you anything else until we're at your place.

[He's not causing any more accidents today thank you.]

Good call.

[It's only when he's sure Tony's alright, however long that takes, that he pulls out again and starts to drive. He's intently focused now, eyes fixed on the road (barring the occasional flash to the rear-view and side mirrors) and the remainder of the trip goes without incident.

He pulls into the drive, turns the engine off, removes the key and sighs slowly, sinking down in his seat.]

A'right. Come on, I'll put some coffee on-- You hungry?

[It takes a little while, and he's pretty well settled on hugging his knees for the rest of the trip. By the time they arrive he's pretty well calmed down. Still a little shaky of course, that will probably last for a while yet.

Once he's absolutely certain they've stopped he unwinds himself and sits up again, rubbing his face tiredly with one hand.]

Mm? Yeah... I could eat.

[Honestly when wasn't he hungry, to be fair?]

Ain't sure why I asked. C'mon.

[Once out of the car he shoos the boy into the house, flicking on a few lights. Everything feels a little less strange now he's back in familiar territory. Still unsettled, but a little less strange. There's a sheet of paper on the coffee table in the living room covered with the scribblings of a dozen different conversations, a number written neatly across the top.]

What you hungry for? I got uh... what've I got...

[He picks through cupboards, peers into the fridge.]

Mac 'n' cheese, uhh... I got some leftovers. Chinese, I think. [A beat.] Gonna be honest, I ain't been for groceries in two weeks. You want pizza? Got them on speed dial.

[Tony was happy to scramble out of the car, gathering up his heavy parcel and hugging it to his chest as he followed along. He gently lays it across the table once inside, careful not to knock anything off. To him the paper looked blank, the strange nature of the numbers meant that only the person who wrote the number could see the conversations.

Neat, huh?]

Pizza's good, I like pizza.

[Understatement, he loves pizza. And goes about making himself comfortable by half burrowing into the corner of Richard's couch. He's cold and wet and still shakey from the car incident let him be in a ball for a while.]

[Just as well, too. He's probably embarrassed himself a few more times than he'd be willing to admit.]

Yeah, me too. There's a menu somewhere under the couch cushions. Pick what you want.

I'm not picky, whatever you're feeling.

[He digs under the cushions anyway until he finds it, and a few nickels, all of which get stacked neatly on the table. You pick Richard he doesn't care, doesn't really have the energy to think about it right now anyway. He's tired and cold.

Once he's thoroughly settled in he pulls the hood off again and just kind of flops over the arm of the couch lamely.]

Alright, so, you probably want to know what this is all about, yeah?

Oh, sweet, couch money.

[He turns up the thermostat on his way back in, scooping up the menu and browsing it for a moment before holding up a hand in a 'hold that thought' gesture while he reaches for the phone.

Order placed, he sets the phone down on the coffee table and taps his fingertips together, humming out a low sound.]

I think I got the basics, but.. yeah.

Hit the jackpot, I did.

[Tony just smirks in amusement. Idly kicks off his shoes, and curls up in a little ball. Yes now he will be warm, perfect.]

Yeah... And it only gets weirder as time goes on.

No shit. What the hell happened to your hair?

[He prods the kid gently, amused at how he's acting.]

Oi, if you're bedding down for the night I can give you an actual bed.

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