Science Fiction/Double Feature
Nov. 5th, 2013 08:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
whistlersmum in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
birthright_rpg'May the drive-in never die', Whistler thought to himself.
It was just past dusk, and The Blob was about to ooze itself across the outdoor screen. He'd hooked the speaker inside-out on the Impala's driver-side window, so the audio would project outward. He rested against the windshield, shoes off so as to not scuff the new paint on the hood. It'd cost him enough to get out of the impound and repaired. He wasn't about to cause any more damage.
A cooler full of beer sat on the roof of the car, an open can to his right. A jumbo bag of popcorn rested on his lap.
This took him back. The Globe in England; the Colliseum in Rome; watching Oedipus Rex in the original Greek. But nothing compared to a good old-fashioned drive-in theater.
And Steve McQueen. No one could touch him. Not even Olivier.
(Open to anyone.)
It was just past dusk, and The Blob was about to ooze itself across the outdoor screen. He'd hooked the speaker inside-out on the Impala's driver-side window, so the audio would project outward. He rested against the windshield, shoes off so as to not scuff the new paint on the hood. It'd cost him enough to get out of the impound and repaired. He wasn't about to cause any more damage.
A cooler full of beer sat on the roof of the car, an open can to his right. A jumbo bag of popcorn rested on his lap.
This took him back. The Globe in England; the Colliseum in Rome; watching Oedipus Rex in the original Greek. But nothing compared to a good old-fashioned drive-in theater.
And Steve McQueen. No one could touch him. Not even Olivier.
(Open to anyone.)
no subject
on 2013-11-22 03:00 am (UTC)Not that he wouldn't. She was attractive. And like him, wouldn't age. Though that could be a problem, given she looked like jail bait, and in certain cities, they still threw rocks at you if they thought you were robbing the cradle.
Then his mind circled back to the first part of Brian's comment. He'd heard about Rhiannon. Which meant she was getting noticed. And when a Slayer got noticed by a human, it meant demons were probably aware.
"I collect stamps, does that count?" The Agent wanted to have a more... frank conversation with him, but didn't want to 'out' Theresa. But how to find him again...?
He figuratively smacked his brain. Brian was in a band, and he was playing in the same club Theresa was managing.
'Please, please, please mention the club by name. If I have to poke your brain to find it, you might notice. And then weird takes on a whole new meaning."
no subject
on 2013-11-22 04:15 pm (UTC)Brian had heard of Rhiannon, as if the Slayer was a celebrity of sorts. Whistler had run her down with his car. She still wanted to know how the fuck that had happened. If two tons of Detroit steel hadn't put the brunette out of commission, what hope did a garden variety vampire have?
The inter-connecting points were beginning to make her head spin.
"I don't collect stamps," she announced. "But I do have a fixation on crossword puzzles. Is that weird?"