live fast die young bad girls do it well [closed]

[boneshaker]

Hotwiring the car was the work of a moment. He's feeling pretty fucking pleased with himself right now. He's never done this, but hey, he's seen movies. Now the engine sputters to life and he sits up, both hands gripping the wheel, staring through the dust-caked windshield with a burst of exhilaration.

The regime will have noted their escape by now. They probably only have minutes before there's a small army on their tail, and miles of desert to rip through. He's not scared. He just hotwired a car. He's got a partner in crime. This is going to be awesome.

He revs the engine once and looks to the passenger seat, where his partner is loading a shotgun. He has no idea who this guy is, but he's here, and he's hot, and that's pretty much all he could ask for.

He grins. "Ready?"


[soundtrack]

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[eliotwaugh]

They're probably going to die, but that only makes the situation more thrilling. Eliot sets the shotgun down by his leg, ready at a moment's notice, and checks the backseat. They managed to get away with a decent complement of weapons, but will it be enough?

He shrugs, matching the guy's grin with his own crooked smile. "As we're ever gonna be, let's hit it."

[boneshaker]

Castor doesn't have to be told twice. He jerks the car into gear and slams his foot on the gas. Tires screech and a cloud of dust explodes around them as he hurls them into the desert. He's not sure he knows how to drive, but he doesn't think he knew how to hotwire either and that went all right. He'll be fine! They're on a mission.

"I'm Castor," he says over the roar of the engine. He glances up at the rearview and sees the rise of angry black shapes cutting through waves of heat. That's a whole lotta pursuers. "We've got company."

[eliotwaugh]

"Eliot!" He yells over the wind as they accelerate away from the desert fortress. It seems farther away than it had been mere moments ago, but maybe this battered, mud-crusted car they'd stolen has more pickup than it looks.

At Castor's warning, he slides up from the passenger seat to look behind them. Perching on the window frame, he can see their pursuers through the dust they've kicked up. They have a good lead, but it won't last for long unless he does something.

Eliot reaches for the shotgun. Does he even know how to use this thing? He hopes he looks good trying, at least. "Just...don't hit anything for a minute, okay?" he asks Castor without looking, taking aim at the lead car's tires.

His shoulder is jarred when he fires and he feels it all the way up his jaw, but the shot was good and there's more dust, one down and who knows how many to go.

professional driver, closed course

[boneshaker]

"Not much to hit," mutters Castor under his breath, smirking down the expanse of sand ahead. The shot is loud and seems to have done its job, but there's too many more where that came from. Is it his imagination or are the pursuers multiplying around them, drawing ever closer?

Eliot fires off shot after shot, which ain't bad, as tactics go - Castor steals a glance as he reloads, biting his lip. He does not look like he's suited to this environment, and yet he's just diving in like a fuckin' champ.

He doesn't have enough shells in that gun to keep this up, though, and one of the lead vehicles is pulling up alongside them. Time to mix it up.

"Hold on!" Castor bellows, and slams the brake, yanking the steering wheel as far as it'll go to the left. The tires shriek and spray sand everywhere, the entire car pivoting hard on its axis, tipping inward. Castor shifts gears with violent twists and the weight redistributes, landing them heavily back on all fours. All around them their enemies swirl and scurry to halt and turn without slamming into one another, all of them too clumsy and slow. Castor hollers a wordless victory cry as he accelerates them in their new direction. Who the fuck knew he was so good at driving?!

[eliotwaugh]

Eliot has just enough time to toss the shotgun to the backseat before Castor does...whatever he does to make that happen. Cars were never his thing. It works, though, and he whoops as they throw off the chase, even though he's pretty sure the maneuver could have crushed them into the sand. But it's more exciting that way, anyway. It reminds him that he's alive.

When the car rights itself he loses balance, though, he wasn't braced enough, and he tumbles across the seat to land halfway on top of Castor.

"Ha!" he laughs, drunk on fear and adrenaline. "That was...that was amazing!"

[boneshaker]

Castor veers a little to the left when Eliot crashes into him, but he recovers quickly, wrapping one arm around Eliot's waist - to steady him, right, sure. "Yeah?" He shoots his companion a grin. "I didn't know I had that in me."

He holds onto Eliot for maybe a moment longer than he should before setting both hands back on the wheel and putting on another burst of speed. There's somewhere they can hole up ahead, isn't there? He'd thought it was just an empty desert, but no, there's some kind of structure rising to meet them, a place they can outrun the mob.

He keeps one hand on the wheel and reaches back, groping for a rifle. "Take out the smaller vehicles," he says, tossing Eliot the weapon. "I'm cutting through there."

He points ahead to a narrow ravine. None but the smallest enemies will be able to follow them through there.

"Lookin forward to your fancy shooting," he says with a smirk.

[eliotwaugh]

Eliot laughs, giddy, and if they weren't in the middle of literally fleeing for their lives he might say something about Castor having something in him, or the potential thereof, the germ of the idea is there but there's no time. Too much adrenaline.

He catches the rifle and knows he can do more damage with this. It feels comfortable, somehow, precise and dangerous and he is gonna look so goddamn cool.

"Well if it's fancy you want," he says with a smirk once he's settled back in shooting position, "that's kind of my thing."

How it's his thing when he's only just experiencing freedom from that awful compound is a mystery, but it doesn't seem to matter. He squints through the rifle's sight at the nearest car. If he can take out enough of the big vehicles they can get a good lead, they'll have a real chance to lose the pursuit. The car coming up on them is a spiky rusted monstrosity trailing black exhaust behind it. It could crush them easily if they lose ground, and that would be that. He has to make this count.

He wishes there were something else he could do, bullets are great but that car looks well armored and they could definitely use extra firepower. If only there were a way to get a little extra...oomph out of his ammunition, a little nudge.

Eliot pulls the trigger, thinking how great it would be if-

The car explodes.

[boneshaker]

Their car lurches forward on the kickback of the god damn explosion Eliot just miraculously engineered, and it's all Castor can do to snap a hand out and grab Eliot's elbow, keep him from falling right out. He rides the wave as best he can and then hits the gas. That shit just bought them enough time to put real distance between themselves and their pursuers.

"Holy shit, what the fuck was that?!" he shrills, half-laughing. "How did you do that? Wait, better question." His eyes are on the fast-approaching ravine. Yeah, a single-file chase would be better for them, but no chase at all would be even better. And if the wall were to conveniently collapse behind them...

"Can you do it again?" He looks at Eliot, nodding slightly ahead to communicate the idea.