Pete Wisdom is saving the world...from itself. (mister_wisdom) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-06-11 07:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, jubilation lee (jubilee), pete wisdom |
"I can drive on my own."
Who: Pete, Jubilee
What: Obtaining infos, without having to go to the source of said infos!
When: Recently
Where: Jubilee's apartment.
Rating: PG13, language is the usual and likely culprit. Nothing else.
Status: Complete!
It was an early morning for Jubilee. She'd spent most of the day doing her morning exercises. Limbering herself up and everything. And then there'd been the preliminary packing for London. In preparation for the preliminary packing in preparation for the preliminary packing before the actual packing.
Jubilee always had trouble deciding on what she needed. She was sucking on a sugar-free lollipop and sitting crosslegged in the hole she'd made in the clothing, comics and assorted crap that littered her studio apartment, doing that 'zen shit.'
Which consisted of Angry Birds on her ipod.
Outside, there was the sound of what appeared to be a car accident. A small crash, some yelling, nothing which would immediately break the tranquil zenlike calm of angry birds. In fact, she could probably finish that level, unhindered. Because outside, the man responsible for that crash had already exited the vehicle, and coughed as he smoked and drug his feet all the way to someone's studio apartment door.
It's a certainy that he'll find out what a mess it is, very soon. That won't phase him one bit. He has business with the occupant. Very important business.
With a great cheer, the angry bird flew through the air, crashing into some blocks and knocking them down. Jubilee giggled.
Knock. Knock. That was her door. Being knocked upon. Slowly. Not to mention, unmistakably. That rapping upon her chamber door was, indeed, quite clear.
She looked up, then rolled to her feet and cartwheeled to the door. She threw it open, stood there in her practice leotard staring, then slammed the door in his face.
Oh no, that wasn't happening. Pete stuck his bag in the door before it shut, so it simply bounced off his extra clothing, and he could lean in with a ear-to-ear smirk.
"...'ello, 'ello," he said, sly as a devil. If the devil sounded somewhat congested. "You. Me. Talk. Now."
"Sit your arse...wot the bloody hell, did an anime convention puke in here?" he asked.
"The hell do you want! The Hotness has to get to practice!" In like an hour, but he doesn't need to worry about that, or know about it or anything, "I haven't paffed or fireworked or anything in a week!"
"Information." He nearly tripped over a hello kitty..something. Nevermind, he can't trip on what he just stomped on, deliberately. "Sit yer arse down."
"And then," he promised, "I'll drive you to that practice." Pete smiled. As much as he could manage.
"I'll drive myself." The oddly painted vw bug out front was hers, "I don't have any information."
"Tell me about Kitty and her accident," he was saying, as he closed the door and leaned back against it, arms crossed. At least he wasn't yelling or threatening to call the cops, so that was good. Possibly. Maybe. And he hadn't kicked the door in to cause a scene, so that was even better. "And turn the bloody heater up, this place is freezing."
Bottom line was, he couldn't talk to Kitty. And if he couldn't find out from Kitty, what she had been mixed up in, he'd have to take a circular route to get information that had been dropped so openly on the valar net.
It was his way of staying informed, and making sure that those people he...possibly had sucking chest wounds for...even if they didn't like him...stayed...somehow...possibly...safe
"It's eighty in here." Jubilee folded her arms and stood her ground, "And which accident? I don't know about any accident is she okay did she get hurt?!"
Pete picked up the nearest...plush...monstrosity he could find, and lobbed it with great accuracy at Jubilee's head.
"The one you mentioned to her while commenting on the valar net. Out in the bloody open. Ask that shite in private next time," he snapped, like he wished he hadn't seen it at all. "You've got a huge feckin' mouth on you, don't you? Obnoxious prat."
Of course, he meant their little conversation about skylights and parkour and what the hell Kitty was doing, with those things. Because contrary to popular belief, she's a computer geek and not a ninja.
Jubilee dodged out of the way. It was more of a flip and she landed on the couch, "Oh come on it's not like it's some stupid secret or anything. She went through a window. Skylight. Whatev. She was okay and that's what matters, yo."
"There's always something more to it," he said, sniffling and looking around at...whatever it was, in that mess, he was sure there was some hentai tentacle pictures involved. "And they think me own flats are a mess. Anyway." He stopped staring down at the rainbow colored spectacle that was...everything covering her carpet...and stared at her like he was concentrating - or trying to - through a fever haze. "Wot was she doing, on rooftops? Sightseeing?"
That was, of course, sarcasm.
"I don't know. She went to jump around on walls and crap because she could. Bitch. I train for years and months and she starts dreaming she's a ninja." Jubilee stood on her hands, and did a split in the air, "She was really proud of kicking a Methhead in the face."
"A...wot?" Pete looked ready to lose his mind at that. In fact both hands went up toward his face like he was going to try to keep his brain from exploding out of his eye sockets. He was also trying not to cough all over the place. "Wot the hell, bloody methhead?!"
"They went to a warehouse to jump around and there were apparently methheads. That's why she jumped off the roof and fell through the skylight." Jubilee gave him a look like 'duh, weren't you paying attention?'
"Who's they?" He helped himself to whatever...was there a kitchen somewhere? He needed a kitchen. And something hot. "Keep talking. If you run, I'll track you down, and drag you back. By the ankles."
"You implied plural," he added, "not singular. She wasn't alone." Was that a kitchen table? He might be getting warmer.
Well, figuratively, not literally.
"Kitty and her friend, some guy." Jubilee did a hand spring off the couch and landed in the kitchen counter and crouched, staring at him like a perched bird, "Anyway that's when she fell through the skylight 'cause she didn't get to look before she leaped. M'not sure how she got her motorcycle home. After all that was the FBI asking her questions and crap. Some dude with an eye patch."
Pete merely looked grumpy until he heard the eyepatch portion, and then his eyes moved so they were focused on the Asian girl, fully. It was as though his parade had been rained on. And then God pissed on it. Because God thought it wasn't wet enough.
"Wot sort of questions. Wot about. Do you know?"
"Some kind of crates she found, with guns in them." Jubilee shrugged, and hopped off the counter. She made him some hot coffee and shoved a pink mug into his hands, "Anonymous tips aren't so anonymous. That sucks."
Well now he was getting somewhere, and he didn't even have to ask Kitty at all, directly, or be around her, at all.
With a grunt of thanks, Pete took the cup and clasped it between both hands, looking very much like he'd been out in the middle of January, in Norway, and forgot his jacket. While he did that, he continued talking, "Did she tell you if there were any names on the crates...like shipping information, symbols...corporations..."
"Some greek dog or something. I wasn't paying attention. Knowing her she probably talked them into letting her get all hacky, she was excited 'cause she was playing diablo 3 with the FBI dude. I know she did something in DC 'cause she flew out there a few months ago but that was for her job so I dunno if that was like..related or not." Jubilee poured some coffee into a travel mug. It was yellow, with aqua teen hunger force on it.
"Really, FBI dude and a greek dog," Pete said, like that was very interesting. He really tried to ignore her cup, or anything that was about to touch his lips. He was also keeping his distance, for whatever reason. If asked, he'd probably say it was to keep the germs off her so she could go to London. Right, he's going to stick with that story.
He took a drink of coffee and was pleased it wasn't like trying to suck down tar. Because there was nothing worse than tar coffee. That was a travesty and anyone who can't make at least a half decent pot of coffee deserved to be shot.
"Yeah. Something like that. Then like..there was the thing with this Alma girl and she tried to help her but they were attacked. She opened a can of whupass on those guys!" Jubilee punched the air, "And the one with the date, she wouldn't shut up about punching a guy in the throat."
Because throat punches are best punches.
"Right, well...she's not involved in any of that any longer, I'd imagine," Pete announced like that was so. He even looked at Jubilee like that was so. It was meant to be a warning, that it SHOULD be so, and he'd be keeping an eye out. From afar. At a great distance. Because contact with Kitty was bad, the end result of even thinking about her or comparing every other girl to her, tended to be another sucking chest wound opening up.
There were simply not enough bullets on the planet for him to shoot himself with, as much as he wanted to.
"Brilliant. Get your things, you're leaving early," he said with a raspy throated voice of superiority, the type of which only Brits could manage sounding like, while they looked down their noses at others.
"I'm leaving when I'm gonna leave, you pervy old man!"
"Why am I pervy? I don't want in yer feckin' knickers, you simpleton." Pete gave her a sneer over the top of the coffee cup and went right back to drinking it down, unpeturbed.
"You look it." She sucked on her lollipop, "Are you gonna ask The Hotness into you're car with offers of candy? The Hotness does not accept!"
"No, I'm going to tell you t'get your feckin' arse in the car, and if you want candy, you can bloody well bring it yourself. I'm not a sweets peddler. Bring yer own feckin' candy, christ's sake." He downed the rest of the coffee and tossed the cup into her sink, saying under his breath, "I'm not a pervert."
"She's gotten extra bendy since she became a ninja," Jubilee taunted, brushing past him and making her way for the door. "Surprised that Obi dude hasn't hit on her. I would if she wasn't like..a sister." She made a face, "Imagine kissing your sister? EW."
"She's with someone," he corrected, glumly, trying to find his way back toward the door after her, without stepping on anything else. Truth be told, he wanted to kick it all aside and clear a path, but that's what he was used to doing in his own infested pits of filth he tended to wallow in. "And stop trying to troll me you little feck, or I'll light a cigarette and throw it into this mess, an' watch you scramble t'put it out."
He gave her the sort of look that plainly said he probably wasn't joking. Or maybe he'd done that before.
...to himself. But it was only once and he was incredibly drunk, and the building was mostly abandoned for the most part, so it mostly didn't count.
"Maybe the assorted smells would make you actually smile, or something. Your face is a permafrown. The Hotness doesn't approve." She opened the door and tapped her foot, waiting for him.
He picked up his bag, permafrowning, and glared down his nose at her, as he passed by.
"Smiling causes some people's faces to crack into two pieces. I'm one of those people. I also couldn't give two runny shites if you approve or not," Pete informed her, walking off while dragging the bag, by it's strap, behind him.
Jubilee glowered at him, and slammed the door behind them, "I can drive on my own. I know how to drive, I'm not maniacal like you!"
"Drive then. Wot e'er." He continued dragging his bag back to the even more beat up car, and threw it inside, through the window. He lit a cigarette up as he rounded it to get in behind the wheel.
"Do you drag that thing everywhere? It could have stayed inside the car!"
"Yes. I do." He got in and slammed the door so hard, it sounded like it was going to come off it's hinges. "Oh." He leaned, so that she could hear him, over the sound of the engine protesting being driven anymore. "Make sure she doesn't get involved in any of that shite anymore. Tell her t'try punching bags. Or ninja schools. Much safer environments."
"Yeah, sure, tell Kit Kat to keep her nose out of things once she's got her whiskers raised? Be easier to tell you to drive safe, maybe." Jubilee made her way over to her bug, and threw a duffel bag inside.
Well, the girl wasn't quite the simpleton he thought her to be. Pete sat back behind the wheel, staring at it, for a long moment. Then he leaned over again, and coughed to clear his throat, and get her attention.
"Then be careful, you. I think she might have told you too much, also." He was pretty good at giving warnings without sounding worried anymore. In fact, he sounded like a tea-swilling zombie, reading what he was saying, off a cue card.
Jubilee glanced back at him, frowning. She felt a smidge of sympathy. Her loyalties were clearly with Kit Kat but that didn't stop her from worrying about him. She could see a little of whatever man was hidden under the grime that Kitty had once seen, "Did you get that looked at?"
"Get what looked at?" One eyebrow arched up higher than the other, and he frowned, not sure what she was talking about. If it was the car, then no...because it could go to hell and that's what Interpol had arranged for him, he hated it, and it wasn't fast enough and it had a roof and windows. A roof and windows were those things that, if one was in a high speed chase and windows were involved, they got shot out and it was a huge mess, and it meant they couldn't get a clean shot in on you, so that your pension and insurance goes to your family member. It would've saved a lot of hassle doing it to himself, and insurance being denied due to self inflicted anything.
If she meant him, well that was a lost cause and he knew it.
He had his own curious streak, enough that he sat there and waited for her to say what she was going to say, while looking like he'd rather not be sitting there waiting to hear anything at all.
"That lung you nearly coughed up," Jubilee replied. She wasn't scared of him, or hated him, or anything like that. The Hotness looked like she might actually care, "You should get it looked at, yo."
"Already done. You have other things t'worry o'er, petal. Good luck," he said with a overexagerated waving of one hand, cigarette between his fingers. His foot went down on the gas pedal and off the car went, sounding like it was protesting the entire way. No way was he going to stick around with someone acting like they might actually be concerned about that stuff. He didn't have time for it, and he didn't care anymore.
Jubilee watched him go, "Dick."
Pete was driving, but still saw fit to say, with a choking sounding sing-song sigh, "Stupid twat."