LET'S [test] DRIVING

[cava]

IT'S THAT TIME AGAIN, YOU KNOW THE DRILL. Here's a few options, all stolen shamelessly from previous iterations.

> The Park. Man, what a nice day out. Why not enjoy it? I'm sure -- shit, yep, there's some echo monsters or whatever they're called.
> The Mall. Exactly what it says on the tin! Dodge the hordes of teenage mallrats or take part, whichever suits your tastes.
> Rainy Day. Agh, it's fucking awful out. And is it raining those vermilion things?? Now you've got an Echo to contend with on top of everything else. Find some shelter, quick!
> Arts and Crafts Fair. WILL THE KITSCH OVERWHELM YOU


or make up your own whatever this is basic and just for the purposes of getting a new test drive up.

Comments

[synchronous]

Oh, uh. Thanks. [ DJ resists the urge to self-consciously reach up and touch his bleached hair.

He's kind of bad at talking to strangers, especially little kids, so. ] Guess I'll just keep goin', then.

[rabbunctious]

Okay. Have a nice day.

[But even as he drops his gaze, Sang-joon pulls himself in close to the wall again. He doesn't look down the street like he's really waiting for his dad; mostly he just looks wet. And cold. And kind of pathetic, the way a toy left out in a puddle would look even though its expression isn't any different.

He shivers a little.]

[synchronous]

[ ...dang, poor kid. DJ starts to walk off, but then pauses. Lingers. Frowns. ]

Don't got an umbrella?

[rabbunctious]

[He glances up again, then shakes his head slightly.]

Nuh-uh. But it's all right.

[He just casually pulls his arms, pencil case and all, back up his sleeves to wrap them around himself in what would have been the cozy warmth of his hoodie if it weren't, you know, wet. He leans forward a little, peering up at the sky to see if the clouds look any lighter, then pulls himself back with a quietly resigned exhalation.]

I'll wait.

[synchronous]

[ A sigh. Unfortunately for DJ, he hasn't yet regained the necessary echoes to be the kind of douchebag who'd turn a blind eye to a kid in the rain. ]

There's a bus stop with a roof about a block away. Want me to walk you there?

[rabbunctious]

[A quick flash of raised eyebrows, then a passively calculating look. Sang-joon re-weighs DJ's apparent physical prowess, measures it against his own, checks around for other people, and then mentally shrugs. It's still afternoon, and he can probably run faster than DJ, anyway. P.E.'s always been his best class.]

If you want to. Which way?

[synchronous]

[ He has no desire to mess with this kid, thankfully. He's just afflicted by a pesky sense of sympathy.

He gestures back behind himself. ] This way.

[rabbunctious]

[He stretches to look, then threads one arm back through his sleeve in order to tug his hood further down his forehead.]

Thank you. You don't have to walk me there. It's only a block.

[synchronous]

Yeah, but I have an umbrella and you don't. You'll get your weird novelty hoodie wet.

[ He nods in the direction he's headed, holding his umbrella slightly away from himself for Sang-joon to fit under. ]

[rabbunctious]

[Well, okay. Sang-joon slips under the umbrella, relieved to have more shelter than the awning.]

It's already wet.

[He rubs the fabric of one ear between his fingers.]

But thanks, again. Maybe like this Mom will only worry I'll catch a cold instead of walking pneumonia.

[synchronous]

Thought you said you were waiting for your dad.

[ He just says it casually as he leads the way to the bus shelter. ]

[rabbunctious]

[His tone is equally casual.]

That's what you're supposed to say when strangers start talking to you on the street in a big city.

[He shrugs.]

My dad's still in California. Probably.

[synchronous]

Fair.

I'm just a high-school student. I'm too old to beat you up for lunch money but too young to kidnap you, so statistically speaking I'm cool.

[rabbunctious]

Don't you know? High schoolers are the worst. A bunch of them beat up a homeless person near where I used to live, and with these ears, I might as well be wearing a target.

[He may not emote much, but it looks like he's not the kind of kid that can stay still. He works his other arm back through his sleeve and tries to put the pencil case in the front pocket of his hoodie. When it doesn't fit, he sighs and tucks it under his arm.]

You're probably okay though, since you don't seem to have a pack.

[synchronous]

[ DJ raises an eyebrow as he glances down at the kid. ]

So what's with the ears, then?

[rabbunctious]

My mom made this jacket.

[That's all there really is to say on the matter.]

[synchronous]

Ah.

[ He's not strongly attached to his parents -- or he says he's not, anyway, because DJ is a stoic motherfucker -- but he supposes kids this guy's age generally are. It's endearing.

They reach the bus shelter. ]

[rabbunctious]

[Sang-joon ducks into the shelter, grateful to actually have it to himself. Maybe other people actually checked the weather and decided to stay in today.

He stands rather than sits, bouncing slightly on his heels, then tilts his head.]

What's your name?

[synchronous]

[ DJ pulls his phone out of his pocket to glance at the time. Should be a bus coming in a few minutes. ]

DJ. You?

[rabbunctious]

Sang-joon. Thanks for walking me here.

[He rocks back and forth slowly on his heels.]

It was pretty cool of you.

[synchronous]

No prob. [ A brief thumbs-up. He's getting better at this interacting with people stuff! ] Ask your mom for an umbrella when you get home.

[rabbunctious]

[He lets out a short breath of a laugh, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards.]

That one's got pink rabbits on it. Maybe I should take my chances with pneumonia.

[synchronous]

[ A small snerk. God, poor kid. ]

If anyone makes fun of you, just say their fur is tinted with the blood of the fallen.

[rabbunctious]

If anyone makes fun of me, they quietly turn up the next day with three of my mom's cutest custom-made beanies and a severe case of leporiphobia.

[The impassive, matter-of-fact innocence doesn't even budge off his face.]

Mom says I'm good for business.

[synchronous]

[ Pfft. ]

She's got a fine racket going.