TRJ: INBOX

[theartofmadness]

JASON TODD

INMATE OF THE S.F.S. PEREGRINE

Comments

[theartofmadness]

so, car. what kinda car. can't leave me hanging like this you know

[nineteenfortyfive]

Do you like cars? I'm more than willing to show you.

[theartofmadness]

( yes. ) eh, i mean i know a thing or two about them.

[nineteenfortyfive]

I don't know much. Maybe you can show me what you know, if you're willing.

[theartofmadness]

( act cool, jason. ask yourself. what would dominic toretto do. ) lookin for free lessons, are ya? i guess i can help. for a price.

[nineteenfortyfive]

A price? Let's hear it.

[theartofmadness]

tell me what convinced you to be a warden. none of the "i wanted to do good" bullshit. i know you all get something otherwise not possible from this.

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Well. Time for this conversation.]

My husband and I die in a house fire sometime in the next handful of years. I'd like to avoid that fate.

And I would have told you that without a bargain in place. It isn't a secret.

[theartofmadness]

( it takes a lot of willpower for him not to say something stupid and defensive. he types it out and deletes it several times. this shit isn't about you, jason. )

if you could find out the cause of the fire, would you wanna know?

[nineteenfortyfive]

Of course.

But I live in a house with no electricity. Everything is lit by candle, heated by fireplaces. All it takes is one thoughtless accident.

[theartofmadness]

jeez, you really are a relic. ( he couldn't help himself. ) don't think you're a careless person who'd just happen to forget that you threw a candle at your curtains.

[nineteenfortyfive]

It's better than the alternative.

[Wouldn't be the first time someone tried to burn the witch, of course.]

[theartofmadness]

well, where am i teaching you how to be a grease monkey?

[nineteenfortyfive]

Loading bay. I guess you do have the time to hang out with an old woman.

-> action

[theartofmadness]

( He doesn't bother returning a text. Instead, Jason's wandering in with a half-finished coffee a few minutes later. He looks fine, by the way. Actually a lot better than she'd probably seen him since. Though he still looked shabby in dress.

Jason was just about to take a sip when the car came into view and he damn well near spat it out again. He looked at the car, then her, and a hand came out gesturing to the machine. ) They gave you this?

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Uh oh. Claire has the keys in her pocket, but the doors are currently unlocked. She tips her head in question.]

You're familiar?

[theartofmadness]

( He really can't help the chuckle but some part of him is mad about it. Like... they really went there. Whoever they are. The powers that be. He thinks about it for a second and then walks closer, taking a step around the whole thing. ) Dope flames, bro. ( Comes with an amused snort. )

Anyway, yeah it's a Ford Pinto. ( He's investigating. ) Early, maybe first run? Probably not older than 1973. ( A finger dusts over the trunk hood, stepping in front of Claire about a few feet away. Hand dropping. ) It's not a car, Claire. It's a bomb.

[nineteenfortyfive]

It's not really my style...

[As if that weren't obvious. 1973 is a touch after Claire's time, but the fact that Jason's able to name the make a year impresses her. So, he has interests. Noted.]

What? [She laughs, confused by the last comment.] A bomb? What do you mean?

[theartofmadness]

No? ( Yeah, he figured this wasn't exactly Claire colors or style. ) You got sick racing stripes too, she's gonna go really fast ( a break ) until she fucking explodes.

( Jason managed to sneak out a couple more chuckles before taking a breath and finishing up his coffee. He turns, putting the empty cup on some... thing. Whatever was around and not the car, but maybe a different vehicle. He wasn't really paying attention. ) Ford pushed this out in like half the time it typically took to manufacture a car back then. Cut an assload of corners. It was recalled for a buncha reasons year after year, but the big one-- ( Jason nods for her to come over and squatted down by the rear bumper. A knuckle gently gestures to just underneath. ) is a fuel tank defect. Part of it is the design itself, I mean its just fuckin hanging out there, man. But yeah, the way she is right now, without any serious fixes I think the slowest collision death was something like 25mph. Knock her rear and suddenly you're in a barbeque.

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Explodes? Well, fuck. Claire's eyes widen as she comes to crouch beside him, resting a hand delicately on the bumper. Could have fooled her. She only has a vague idea of where a fuel tank would be on a car, anyway. Frank and Bree were the mechanics in the family.]

Bloody hell. Suppose that's why she was ten tickets.

[She's not terribly heartbroken--not like she has anywhere to drive, and it's not coming back with her to colonial America--but she looks at Jason for a long moment.]

Viktor's been given permission to establish a workshop. How do you fancy a project?

[theartofmadness]

( He shrugs. ) As long as no one rear ends you, you're-- ( wee woo, wee woo, this is your brain alarm going off. He stops mid-sentence. Completely ignoring the whole ten tickets (yeah, that would explain it) or the ask for a project. Since he'd offer anyway. ) How many people know you have a car?

[nineteenfortyfive]

A couple, including yourself. Why?

[It's not a secret, but port was distracting.]

[theartofmadness]

( That could be not a great thing-- ) Because it's a bomb, Claire.

[nineteenfortyfive]

[She looks alarmed again, for a moment, but then shakes her head.]

I don't think anyone outside of you would know anything about a 1970s car.

[And--]

I'm trusting you with a bomb, then.

[theartofmadness]

Not knowing could be worse. Just don't let anyone drive it or drive near it, yeah? ( It takes a moment before that sunk. He looked away for a second, a warm and genuine smile filling his lips. ) Don't worry about it, its a pretty easy fix. If that's the only problem that is. But we should probably start with that, anyway.