captaincold (ex_captainco884) wrote in newalliance, @ 2012-06-09 12:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | captain cold, harley quinn, weather wizard |
Who: Len Snart, Mark Mardon, Open to All
What: After driving for days, Len and Mark make a pit stop in Gotham City to get a bite of real food (aka diner food) and continue to lie low.
Where: Gotham City, New Jersey
When: Saturday, June 9th
Rating: The rating as that one pirate movie-- Arrrggh! (R for language, possible violence etc.)
Len, for one, was surprised the car had made it this far. Without Evan, they'd needed to get away like normal people; and thus the car. It wasn't even stolen-- it couldn't be if they were taking it out of state. The last thing they needed was some punk ass beat cop stalking speeders to flag them down and make them kill him. Nope, that was entirely counterproductive to 'lying low'. And again, with their main transportation sunning it up out in West California (or so he'd told Len) they needed to be extra cautious not to get busted by Johnny Law. Besides, Len didn't like killing cops-- it wasn't as bad as killing a cape, but either way those Boys in Blue got pretty cranky when you started cutting down their brothers. It was a sentiment Len could relate to.
Parking the car outside the diner, Len threw the door open and got out, a half smoked cigarette hanging from his mouth. He grabbed his belt and holster from the inner pocket in the car door (where he could get to it easily from the driver seat) and strapped his cold gun to his hip, pulling his trench coat closed over it. Len grabbed a dirty shirt from the backseat floorboard and threw it over the cardboard box to hide a blue, fur lined parka which was just barely sticking out of the box.
Briefly stepping away from the car, Len looked around, taking a heavy drag off of his cigarette, "Why's Gotham City always smell like shit?" He mused to Mark, flicking the stub of a cigarette out into the street. Len was a country boy, through and through, born and raised in the Mid-West. He liked fresh air and rolling purple thunderstorms over wheat fields (when he was waxing poetic), not skyscrapers, gargoyles and industrial smog.
Len kicked the car door shut and started into the diner. Despite not wanting to stop in Gotham City- seeing how this was the home of the Batman and a variety of other unsavory sorts, even by Rogue standards- they hadn't eaten in too long and two grown men could not survive on beef jerky and trail mix alone.
As soon as they were seated at a booth near the window, Len produced another cigarette and lit it up, waiting for the waitress to come by.