CELTY STURLUSON (
silhouetted) wrote in
overjoy2012-09-22 11:46 am
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01 ♞ Action ♞ Park
[ all things considered, it's a pretty pitiful sight. a figure in a dark black riding suit complemented by a bright yellow helmet slowly wheels its ride down some path or other. the motorcycle creaks, groans, barely plods along... on obvious last legs, a walking, decrepit piece of junk if there ever was one in Joywick.
so why is this person pushing it around at all, two hands gripped firmly over the handlebars? maybe even they forget the reason at this point, stopping to lean the giant beat up frame against a park bench. the rider stares down at the sad sight for a moment, drops their shoulders, and -- eventually -- shakes their head, hands gripping into fists before they cross over their chest. it appears the poor object won't be put out of its misery just yet.
how long would it take before the lone figure realized they were being tailed? though the bike had always been silent but for the roll of wheels on asphalt, as the rider's follower remembers, where it's lacking now indicates it will soon be silent for good. equally silent, this other person's attire of all black is brightened by the fur lining his coat. he breaks it with a sudden pang, kicking up a rock with the toe of his shoe and sending it careening into the worn motorcycle. ]
An urban legend reduced to such a sad state. What's the black rider without her black bike?
[ now that he's gotten the rider's attention, the young man speaks with familiarity. ]
Say, Courier. Don't tell me you've thrown everything away for one sorry dream. How do you know if what you're looking for is even here?
[ "her" back having shot up into an utterly scandalized pose almost instantly, said "urban legend" turns to face her unknown assailant, and... well, there's not really too much this "black rider" can do once she sees who it is, is there? looks like the poor object's owner won't be put out of its misery anytime soon either. ]
so why is this person pushing it around at all, two hands gripped firmly over the handlebars? maybe even they forget the reason at this point, stopping to lean the giant beat up frame against a park bench. the rider stares down at the sad sight for a moment, drops their shoulders, and -- eventually -- shakes their head, hands gripping into fists before they cross over their chest. it appears the poor object won't be put out of its misery just yet.
how long would it take before the lone figure realized they were being tailed? though the bike had always been silent but for the roll of wheels on asphalt, as the rider's follower remembers, where it's lacking now indicates it will soon be silent for good. equally silent, this other person's attire of all black is brightened by the fur lining his coat. he breaks it with a sudden pang, kicking up a rock with the toe of his shoe and sending it careening into the worn motorcycle. ]
An urban legend reduced to such a sad state. What's the black rider without her black bike?
[ now that he's gotten the rider's attention, the young man speaks with familiarity. ]
Say, Courier. Don't tell me you've thrown everything away for one sorry dream. How do you know if what you're looking for is even here?
[ "her" back having shot up into an utterly scandalized pose almost instantly, said "urban legend" turns to face her unknown assailant, and... well, there's not really too much this "black rider" can do once she sees who it is, is there? looks like the poor object's owner won't be put out of its misery anytime soon either. ]
no subject
But at least he can say he'll never be like the man who interrupts his posing as if he has his very own mental radar. Shoulders slump along with his posture while Izaya talks, but this time he doesn't bother trying to leave or get out of the conversation that's sure to follow. There's no point in reacting now. It'll only give Izaya something to react to later.
Narrowed eyes coast from the smug information broker to the confused Headless Rider as she stops typing into her phone, then back to Izaya.]
A regular Addams Family reunion. [Flatly.]
no subject
The reason each of us is here isn't important. Yet our goals converge.
[ closing a hand over the shoulder of her shadowy attire, Izaya's tone is friendly and inquisitive. he raises the opposite arm to his side. ]
Tell me. Have both of you considered what's in your best interest? Just because you're in Joywick and you've been given the chance to be happy... [ chuckling, his skepticism shows. ] Well. That doesn't mean you'll be able to grasp it. But if we make the right decisions, we can strengthen our chances.
[ he's going somewhere with this. ]
no subject
the fairly quick movement back of Celty's shoulder may not be ladylike, but it is most definitely enough to shrug off the grip of Izaya. not cool. she really didn't have anything interesting even remotely typed up by the time he so rudely decided to eavesdrop, but she'll blank the screen of her phone anyway and mix up a new message more relevant to the conversation at hand. ]
What's in our best interest? You mean not listening to anything you say, right?
It's true not everyone can accomplish what they set out to, and that the choices you make determine how far you go, but that's just the same as it ever was at home.
[ ... ah. Kida-kun is still here too, isn't he? Celty turns her helmet towards his direction and raises her device so he can see it, even summoning him closer with a beckoning gesture. the brief lift of her other shoulder almost seems to ask him to second the criticism of Izaya, if not outright reassure him it's okay to movie nearer beside them. she's on good terms with Anri and Mikado, remember? ]
no subject
Even though he agrees with her typed insistence, he can't be so enthusiastic about his delivery. With a grimace, he takes a few steps closer, noticeably closer to Celty than Izaya, though still about a meter away from either and facing neither directly. He shrugs in reply to both of them, shoving his hands into his pants pockets before looking away.
What's in his best interest is not talking to Izaya.]