InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "You're not funny."

Tobias (Animorphs) (ex_birdboy908) wrote in utr_logs,
@ 2009-01-19 21:07:00

Entry tags:

marco, timey wimey plot, tobias

Who: Tobias and Marco
What: Jailbreaking, then who knows
When/Where: Backdated to Sunday night, a jail in Hollywood, then who knows
Warnings: Language, talk of intense situations.

Tobias had to work to keep the smile off his face when the officer ran down the charges, hmming and hawing at the right points to insist he knew how serious it all was. He assured the man Marco was just an eccentric- Hollywood seemed to breed them, didn't it?- and that they would have a talk about just what was appropriate when wandering the streets.

He finally gave into the smile when he saw his friend behind bars- again, by his reckoning, nodding.

"Yeah, that's him."

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imthecuteone
2009-01-19 08:57 pm UTC (link)

Marco was sitting on the shoddy bench found commonly in all holding cells, one arm around what appeared to be the burliest, hairiest biker anyone had ever seen. He was gesturing animatedly with his free hand, in the throes of a story. Surprisingly, the biker was smiling and into it. "So I tell the guy," Marco was saying, "I tell the guy I wanna buy him a drink as thanks for all he taught me." A grin spread across his face. "And then-" Right about then is when he heard the doors open, and he looked up at Tobias with a little smirk. "Well, looks like my ride's here. Nice talkin' to you, Razor." He rose and began moving towards the doors, glancing behind him and gesturing toward Razor. "No more fights, 'kay? One day you're gonna run into someone you can't beat."

He grinned broadly as he reached the bars. "Tobias. Lookin' sharp, man!" The differences in Marco's face were rather stark, up close. The eye was the obvious one, with the worn black patch covering the now-empty socket that once contained an eye. He needed a shave, though he didn't seem to notice. There was a long, thin scar on the temple beside his missing eye, an ugly slashing thing that Marco knew was from the bullet that took his eye. His skin looked almost leathery, clearly from a good deal of exposure to the sun.

He wore a simple greatcoat, but woven into the coat were armor plates that backed up the kevlar vest he wore underneath. His pants were extremely faded and had more pockets in them than any man could use. Underneath the vest was a simple t-shirt, and worn gloves poked out of one of his pockets. It got cold at nights, in the Capital Wastes. "So! Am I free to go?" He glanced from Tobias to the officer, and back again. By all appearances, he seemed unconcerned, though someone that knew him as well as Tobias would likely be able to tell that this was Marco's equivalent of nervous. This wife-and-child thing was freaking him out, for all his attempts to be responsible about it.

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ex_birdboy908
2009-01-19 09:05 pm UTC (link)

"Free to go," Tobias parroted, his smile falling to a half-smirk as he took a quick assessment of Marco's posture, stopped slightly by the armored coat. Still, that wasn't a conversation to have in a police station, so he shoved it to the back, figuring it would be good fodder for distracting Marco from his nervous jitter.

Which was a sad statement, when he thought about it. But then, so was the story of their lives.

By the time Tobias muddled through his thoughts, the cop was done reading Marco the riot act, and waved them off toward the exit.

"And his effects?" Tobias scrubbed a hand over his face, sure that was going to be a fun hoop to jump through.