York (badlocksmith) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-09-16 23:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, agent york, qrow branwen |
Who: Drunk Qrow and Drunk York
What: Drunk ideas are the best ideas
When: Mid-July
Where: Abandoned amusement park in unincorporated Orange County
Rating/Warnings Mediumish for drunkenness, shenanigans and language
Status: Complete!
Alcohol had a way of making anything sound like a good idea. Things you would never do stone cold sober sounded like the world’s most fantastic idea when you were absolutely plastered. You felt like a goddamn genius! Why wasn’t everyone doing this?
This was kind of how Qrow Branwen felt as he and his new BFF James Duggan, A.K.A. York, climbed the chain link fence surrounding an abandoned amusement park somewhere on the outskirts of town, right where Orange County went unincorporated.
The park (Daisy’s Funtime Land), had closed down permanently a couple of years ago. Qrow had read about it in one of the local papers. The park had opened sometime in the late 50’s, hoping to capitalize on tourists who couldn’t quite afford to go to Disneyland. It worked for decades. That is until other large amusement parks like California Adventure and Universal Studios opened their gates. Daisy’s Funtime Land struggled a bit after that. Its rides were old and couldn’t compare with the big bad roller coasters the much larger parks boasted. It was also in dire need of updating. All of its rides were the exact same rides that had been there when the park opened. For a time the park was able to make money off of it’s nostalgia, but the baby boomers who had come to the park in the 50’s and 60’s were getting too old now to bring their grandchildren. Those grandchildren weren’t all that interested in the old school rides, anyway. Not with Splash Mountain and Tower of Terror beckoning them only a few miles away.
As the money dwindled, upkeep of the rides did as well. Finally a series of lawsuits due to injuries forced the park to shut down for good in the mid 2000’s, almost fifty years to the day since the park first opened. Now it sat abandoned with only a seven foot chain link fence surrounding the property and old beaten up signs saying “No Trespassing” hanging precariously on it to keep people out.
One of those signs rattled against the fence when Qrow gave York a leg up to climb over it.
York had never heard of this place, but as he stood on the other side of the fence with his bottle in hand, half-lidded eyes and dopey smile on his face, he couldn’t help but feel both a giddy excitement and a nervous anxiety at the sight of the place. Chipped paint, peeling posters, ripped and torn coverings. It was magical. The kind of place where horror movies were born.
Then he and Qrow were climbing up over the fence. York got to the top and offered his new bestie a hand to pull him up. They’d climb this mountain together. Quietly, though, so as not to arouse any suspicions.
“I had no idea this was even here!” York whispered. It came out in a sort of stage whisper, the kind that could probably be heard a block and a half away.
Qrow took York’s offered hand and easily scaled the fence. It wasn’t until he’d gotten to the top with one leg over the other side that he realized that neither of them had checked to see if there was barbed wire up here. Whew. One disaster already averted.
Qrow flashed York a toothy drunk smile. “Aww, yer in for a treat,” he promised in a lazy drawl. Somehow even three sheets to the wind, he was still able to expertly get his leg over the top without getting his pant leg caught on the fence and then drop down to the other side without stumbling. Nimble little bastard, he was. You’d almost think he’d done this kind of thing a time or two before.
Once he was on the ground again he removed a flask from his back pocket and took a swig before reaching up to take York’s bottle so the other man didn’t have to worry about keeping it from spilling as he came down. “I took my nieces here once a loooong time ago. They got this sweet wooden roller coaster on the other side and onea those old antique merry-go-rounds in the center. It’s a little slice ah history here, York. Shame they had ta shut down.”
So Qrow may have been a nimble little bastard after a few drinks, but York was not. He stumbled, twisted, squirmed, and nearly fell. After thankfully passing the bottle to his friend so he wouldn’t drop and smash it to bits, York attempted to climb down the inside of the fencing. Attempted being the operative word. He fell, landing hard on his feet and falling down onto his backside with an “oof!”
He sat for a moment, glaring at the fence as if it was the fence’s fault, then slowly climbed to his feet and dusted his hands off. York reached out for his bottle with a thankful, almost sheepish smile.
Qrow watched York fumble on the fence and then finally fall to the ground. With a laugh he put away his flask before giving York a hand up. “There ya go,” he said grinning and handing York back his bottle. “Ya alright?” He asked.
As York dusted himself off, Qrow dug his phone out of his pocket. Using the flash’s light, he swung it around to reveal the two of them had found their way onto the grounds behind row of wooden stands. He judged they were pretty close to the main thoroughfare that went through the center of the park. “C’mone,” he nudged York gently and motioned with his phone, “Let’s take a look around.”
York sighed a little, but accepted Qrow’s hand up and then the bottle. He chuckled at himself. “Yeah, I’m all right.” He knew his backside was going to be sore tomorrow. Then he gulped from the bottle.
Phone flashlight! What a good idea! York didn’t bother getting his out, though. They could use his after Qrow’s ran out of batteries. Double the exploring time! Unless it wasn’t charged up. But nevermind that. They could worry about that later.
“Wow… this place is crazy.” With the chipping, peeling paint and the faded colors in the darkness, this place looked like a cross between Disneyland and York’s worst nightmare. Something straight out of Stephen King’s twisted imagination.
The air did seem particularly still on this side of the fence. Or maybe that was just Qrow’s imagination as he panned the light from his phone around them. The murals on the sides of the gangway stands were all faded and peeling, victims of time and weather, but you could still make out the characters painted there. A few of them looked like original mascot characters: a chipmunk in a top hat, a grey cat with small beady eyes that had a cane and spats, a moose with long eyelashes and a comically oversized bow between her antlers to denote her as female, and of course, Daisy herself. Daisy was a large plump bear. She had a small flower perched in front of her left ear (probably a daisy, though it was impossible to tell that now) and a string of pearls around her neck. She, the chipmunk and the cat were all anthropomorphic, standing on two legs with the ability to grip things with their “hands”. Only the moose, for whatever reason, had been denied that ability and was forced to remain on all fours and point the way to various attractions with her hooves. All of them had been drawn and painted professionally to look cartoonish and friendly, obviously filling visiting children with glee.
There were others in Daisy’s entourage: a mouse, a duck and a dog.. These had been drawn with more haste and less skill than the others. They were obvious rip-offs of their Disney counterparts and didn’t seem to fit with Daisy and her inner circle. These characters were obviously added on considerably later as an attention grab when Disneyland had cemented it’s place as the Happiest Place on Earth.
All of them peered out at Qrow and York as the two made their way through the park. Those that hadn’t completely succumb to the rigors of time had eyes that seemed to follow the two men. Their happy grinning faces reminded Qrow more of grimaces, or seemed to mock the two men as they made their way through the park. They came up on a grassy area with a few picnic tables under a grove of pine trees. The picnic tables had once been painted bright vibrant colors, but had faded and greyed. The wooden benches had splintered and looked more like torture devices now. In the middle of the picnic area were a group of cut-outs of Daisy, the cat, the chipmunk and the moose, all lined up and made to look as though they were having a picnic as well. The discount Disney characters were noticeably absent. As Qrow shined his light over the group it felt as though their eyes, flat and lifeless, were following his and York’s movements, and despite their happy expressions, were displeased at the interlopers’ presence in their park.
Qrow paused here, taking a liberal pull from his flask as he studied the cutouts. “I don’t remember these things bein’ this creepy when I took Yang and Ruby here,” he mused.
York lifted his bottle for tiny sips every few steps. Tiny sips. He wasn’t planning on throwing up in the rip off of the happiest place on earth. “Yeah, man, this place is totally nuts.” It was creepy. Very, very creepy. York was totally into it, though. He had a huge grin on his face even as the eyes watched them walk by. (Very Scooby Doo.)
But then they reached a picnic area, and York moved over to a table to hop up onto the bench. Unfortunately, it’d been weather beaten and damaged to the point where it was brittle and thin, and as York jumped up onto it, it snapped. He fell through and landed on the ground beneath, one leg now trapped up to his knee in the broken bench.
Qrow whirled around when he heard the snap that seemed much louder than it really should have been. He didn’t jump. Noooo, it was just a figment of your imagination. His light settled on York and for a moment it looked like the ex-marine was in the process of being eaten alive by the bench. Qrow blinked a couple of times. Huh.
“Ya awright?” He asked as he made his way over to the trapped man. “How did you…?” Then he shook his head. He could guess how. “Here gimme your hand.”
At least York didn’t yip like a little girl when his foot smashed through the bench and got caught. It scratched a little, but he didn’t think it was too bad. He was wearing long pants, anyway, so hopefully it wouldn’t scratch hard enough to bleed or anything. Then he barked out a laugh when Qrow came over and offered him a hand.
“Yeah, ‘mfine.” And York took hold of Qrow’s hand and tugged his leg up and out of the bench. His bottle was still in his other hand, and it was a miracle that he hadn’t spilled any of it through the whole ordeal. “They don’t make ‘em like they used to!” Another laugh. It was a little awkward, and the shadows seemed to be closing in. That broke his laugh off short.
Qrow chuckled. “Yeah, wind, rain and wood rott’ll do that.” He shined the light over York’s leg. His trousers were ripped up. Qrow hoped they weren’t his favorite pair, because he wasn’t going to be able to wear them again without rocking some pretty large patches. Other than his pant-leg in tatters, York himself wasn’t bleeding. That was a relief. Qrow looked up at his buddy. “Jus’ the same you probably wanna avoid doing that again.”
The two explorers carried on. They passed by a section of derelict looking rides. One of which was a wooden rollercoaster which loomed over head. Its cars were long gone. Sections of track had been ripped up (or stolen) for other uses. It appeared as though the supports were starting to loose pieces of hardware. Qrows feet scuffed a few large bolts and nuts as the two of them walked.
On the other side of the section of rides was a little outdoor theater. A series of fifteen benches that could easily fit two or three families sat in front of the little stage. Like the picnic area, the theater’s seats were lined with wooden cut-outs of Daisy and her entourage playing instruments and dancing. The knock-off Disney characters were included as well. At the back of the benches was a sign that read: “Daisy’s Woodland Theater” in happy looking script. Under that was a list of show times throughout the day. Unfortunately, those times had long faded off the sign.
On the theater itself was what remained of the amusement park’s pride and joy. Or it had been the pride and joy back in the day. Three full-sized animatronics stood center stage. They must have cost a small fortune when they had been new -- however long ago that had been. Curiously, Qrow approached, his light illuminating what was left of the animatronics. Daisy was in the center. When the power had been cut, it appeared as though Daisy had been in mid performance. She was frozen in time holding a little microphone to her open mouth with full row of teeth and her eyes were wide open and staring out over the empty benches.
The cat’s eyes were half-lidded making the beady unfocused look even more creepy. He was tipping forward slightly and right behind him was the chipmunk with both of its arms up in the air looking as though he’d somehow knocked the cat over and was celebrating. On Daisy’s other side was the moose. The fabric of her floppy bow had come off of the wire that had once made the bow keep it’s shape. Now the wire jutted out of the moose’s head like a set of antenna. All four characters had suffered some loss of their fur and costumes revealing their mechanical skeletons underneath. The chipmunk especially had a cyborg thing going on, but that was nothing compared to the entire back end of the moose being completely bare.
Nah, the pants were gone. York wasn't fussed about it, though, he was a little too tipsy to care that much. "Yeah, I'm not planning on running through any tables anytime soon." He dusted off his pant leg and glanced down at his hand in the moonlight (what little there was). No blood, so that was a good sign. He only limped twice as he moved to catch up with his friend.
They walked between derelict rides and fading, peeling paint on the sides of buildings. The bushes were overgrown, and the knotted tree branches cast weird shadows. A chilly wind picked up. The laughter that'd been in York's voice at the bench faded considerably. He lifted the collar on his jacket a little, and swigged again from his bottle.
"Jesus, man, this place is getting creepier and creepier," York tried to laugh again as they moved through the audience of the theater and toward the stage. Old animatronics. Creepy as fuck, dude.
Qrow had to agree. He remembered this place being a lot happier back in the day. It hadn’t been anywhere near as big or as popular as Disney, but it had still been fun. It was kind of sad seeing how terrible everything looked now, just left out to rot and decay. Sad and creepy. Even in the light from Qrow’s phone, the animatronics were terrifying. Shadows fell across the animatronics and their exposed innards in a way that made them appear monstrous, straight out of an urban legend. Ever hear of the story about the two guys who broke into an old amusement park? They got mauled to death by one of the old mascots. Seriously! My cousin new a guy, who knows a girl, who was best friends with a neighbor of one of them…
Qrow took a pull from his flask and glanced at York out of the corner of his eye. A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Yer not scared, are you?” He asked.
He shouldn’t have said anything.
No sooner had he teased York when his phone’s light decided it’d had enough. Instantly the two men were surrounded by darkness.
“Dammit,” Qrow hissed. He looked down at his phone, trying to reactivate the light. He soon discovered that it wasn’t just the light that had decided it’d had enough, but apparently his entire phone had decided to quit. Attempting to turn it on again proved useless. The battery was completely drained, because of course it was.
Qrow sighed and put his phone back in his pocket. “You got your phone?” he asked. “Mine’s dead.”
A noise caught his attention and Qrow jerked his head up and in the direction the two men had come. All night they’d been hearing creaking from the old wooden rides when the breeze brushed by them, but this noise was different. It sounded more deliberate, like….footsteps. Qrow strained his ears to listen, but he didn’t hear it again. Then-
The sound of a small piece of metal – maybe one of those bolts that littered the ground – clanging against another much larger piece of metal came from the direction the two men had just come from.
Since York couldn't drink with Wash anymore, and now that his nephew was getting bigger he'd lost his drinking buddy brother, too. And he was working more regular hours, so weeknight drinking was almost out of the question. York found that the times he did drink, he was going a little overboard... like tonight. He gulped again, trying to ward off that creepy feeling he had growing inside his stomach.
"N--" York responded, the start of nah, but it was cut off when the light went out. They were sent into pitch black. It came so suddenly and surprising that York almost dropped the bottle. There wasn't a whole lot left in it, anyway. He kept his grip on it, but just barely.
"Damn," the one-eyed man responded, "I'll just..." and he reached around to fumble in his back pocket for his phone... but then he became distracted when he heard something coming from behind them. Or was it in front of them? The wind must have been playing tricks on him--York couldn't figure out where the sound was coming from. He took a step closer to Qrow. Not that he was scared, but... solidarity, right?
"Did you hear that?"
“Yeah,” Qrow murmured. He barely took notice that York was suddenly closer to him than he had been just a moment ago. “Shh.” He strained his eyes to see in the darkness. He’d been brought up superstitious. Some of those old tales he took stock in, some he didn’t. Ghosts in an amusement park? Not the craziest thing he’d ever heard. Still…
Qrow squinted into the darkness and strained his ears. He could hear something. Voices? Yes. Two voices just on the other side of the rides. And a light. A flash light.
Fuck.
“We gotta get outta here,” Qrow whispered. He nudged York in the opposite direction. “C’mone.”
It’d been dark only a second ago, and York’s drunk eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the sudden blackness. The noise had him also squinting in the dark, holding his breath, and straining his ears for any little sound. He didn’t dare move. He saw the flashlight as a dim glow, and thought he could hear something--but then Qrow nudged him.
“What?” York whispered back. Then he heard the voices, too, coming in the direction of the dim glow. Fuck. They were absolutely trespassing, and now they had company.
York turned to start in the opposite direction, still struggling to make out shapes without the use of the cell’s flashlight function. He couldn’t turn his on now--it’d be like a homing beacon. They were passing by the bench York broke when he missed the edge of a curb and went sprawling to the ground. His normally cat-like reflexes were in good form--York caught himself before he hurt himself in the fall… but his near-empty bottle of liquor wasn’t so lucky. It fell nearby and shattered.
The sound of the glass breaking may as well have been a symphony. Qrow froze where he stood. He heard those voices stop too and for one agonizing long moment there was nothing but silence. Then “who’s there?” followed quickly by two powerful flashlight beams being turned in their direction.
“Goddammit,” Qrow swore. He reached out and grasped York by the shoulder. The time for stealth was over. “We gotta go!” He hissed in his accomplice’s ear. Without waiting for a response he started running with York in tow.
“You there! Stop!”
That was not going to happen. Qrow could recognize the stern authority laden voice of a cop when he heard it, and the last thing he wanted was to be arrested for trespassing. They had to get back to the fence. If they could scale the fence, get to the other side, they’d be alright.
York climbed to his feet, stumbling in the darkness. But he knew his friend was right: they had to go. In his drunken mind he was terrified of being caught by the cops--the police that he worked with--and being brought down to the station. What would the charges be? Drunken and disorderly? Trespassing? Something equally embarrassing? Would he lose his job?
York was a little breathless by the time they got back to the tall fence, probably because of all the drink he’d had this evening. He was rapidly sobering as he heard the police gaining on them, calling out for them to stop. Then he glanced up the chain link. I can do this. We can do this. He started to climb, keeping an eye on Qrow by his side.
“Stop! Freeze!”
Qrow didn’t even bother to look behind him at the officers giving chase. York was already scaling the fence and Qrow was quickly following suit. This wasn’t the first time he’d run from the cops. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time he’d had to scale a fence while running from the cops. Or scaling a fence running from the cops drunk. But his buzz was quickly fading now that adrenaline was pumping through his veins. Goddammit.
Qrow had nearly reached the top when suddenly York wasn’t next to him anymore. One of the cops had caught up with them just in time to grab York by his ankle and yank him off the fence and onto the ground. The uniformed officer was standing over him now, shining a bright light right in his face.
Qrow now had a choice: he could continue over the fence and get away, or give up and face the consequences with his buddy.
“You there! Stop!” A light was on Qrow now, bright and blinding. God damn it!
“Alright, alright,” Qrow relented. With a sigh, he climbed down and put his hands up. “Ya don’t hafta shine that right in my face you know.”
Damnitdamnitdamnitdamnit York was yanked down off the fence and fell onto the ground. He stumbled and fell over, feeling something twist painfully in his ankle. This was definitely not how he wanted this night to go. The flashlights were blinding, and the two security guards--now that he saw their uniforms, he realized these guys were private security, and not Orange County PD--looked incredibly grumpy.
“Did you realize you were trespassing on private property?” The one who’d yanked on York spoke loud enough for both of them to hear. “In the middle of the night?”
York sighed. “Why d’you think we were runnin?” He asked, then flopped down from a sitting position to a laying down position on the ground and stared straight up into the sky. He would have been able to see the stars if he wasn’t blinded by that stupid flashlight.
Security officers. Qrow let out a sigh. In a way that was worse than if they had been caught by actual cops. Rent-a-cops, in Qrow’s experience, had inflated egos and made no attempt at disguising it. Reddish eyes passed over the two security dicks who’d caught them. They weren’t armed with guns, but those tasers strapped to their belts would definitely ruin a night. Qrow’d had a bit of experience with those too.
“Hey, sit up!” The one who’d been shining his light rather liberally ordered York.
“He’s fine where he is,” Qrow cut in. He turned his head away when that light was back in his face. “Hey, cut it out,” he grumbled, raising a hand to shield his eyes. “You caught us a’ready. You don’t hafta blind us. We’re not goin’ anywhere.”
The guard grunted clearly not impressed with Qrow’s lack of remorse for being caught in the amusement park late at night. However, he did lower his flashlight, thankfully. “The two of you are a little old for this kind of thing, aren’t you? Don’t you have some where better to be?”
“Naaaah,” Qrow drawled. He wasn’t nearly as drunk as he’d been when he and York had initially scaled the fence now currently behind them, but long ago he’d learned that if he acted as though he was, he tended to be let off a bit easier, if not scot free. “I use’ta take my nieces here when they were little. We had a lotta fun back then. My buddy an’ I were havin’ a drink. See he wasn’ around when this place was hoppin’, man. I gotta lot of great memories here with my nieces. I was telling him all about it and he said he wanted to see it. So, I thought, hell, why not? They’re all grown up now. My nieces. All grown up and off with lives of their own.” He feigned getting choked up. Even bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to make a few tears spring to his eyes. “I miss’em, ya know?” He sniffed. “I just wanted ta come back ta the place where we had so much fun.”
The two guards exchanged a glance. Ahhh, there it was. That look of pity. Ah, the poor drunk slob. Probably won’t remember this in the morning.
“Look, I’m sorry you miss your family,” the second guard said. “But you can’t come in here. It’s dangerous, alright, buddy?”
His partner was less sympathetic. “We should call the police,” he grunted. “But you’re already pathetic enough.” He turned his attention to York. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty. You still awake? Call you and your drunk friend a cab. Go home.”
York absolutely agreed. They were way, way too old for this kind of thing. At least, he was. How old was Qrow? Old enough to have adult nieces, but that didn’t say much. Not that York really cared. Friendship knew no bounds of age to him.
When the rent-a-cop told him to sit up, York didn’t move. No way. He was too out of breath, and definitely not drunk enough for any of this shit. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing the cold night air in, and finally opened up his eyes to look over at the guys. “...right. Cab. I can do that.”
They just needed a way out now that wasn’t up and over a chain link fence. York sat up slowly, feeling the world spin a little, and decided he was way, way too old for this shit.