Amanda, Angelo, Forge - Sunday afternoon
Apr. 20th, 2008 02:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_daytripper posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsFed up with finding alternative transport, Amanda drags Forge and Angelo out to help her buy her first car.
It wasn't often Amanda felt completely out of her depth, at least not in non-emotional situations, but upon walking into the used car lot that had been recommended, she quailed a little. If it hadn't been for the two young men with her, she might have turned and walked back out, resigning herself to a lifetime of taking the train and carrying crates of books around in cabs.
"So, here we are then," she said, hand seeking out Angelo's. "Where do we start?"
Forge looked at the rows of cars with an undisguised look of mixed horror and contempt on his face, like a three-star Michelin chef walking into a Rotary Club potluck. "Oh god, the horror... okay, well. Nondescript won't be a problem here, I don't think you could pay someone to steal any of these. Certainly not me. What are you looking for, really? Cargo space, horsepower, gas mileage, that certain je ne sais quoi?"
Angelo looked out over the cars with frank disdain. "Might find one that's good enough in this lot. One that won't break down every five minutes, anyway."
Amanda couldn't help rolling her eyes a little. Car snobs. "Something reliable, that won't fall apart on me, even if I have to occasionally drive a bit reckless." After the bus run had been hijacked, she was'nt taking any chance on anonymity protecting her. "On top of that, a decent amount of space in the boot - I don't know if you've noticed, but I tend to lug a lot of books and files around." She shrugged. "Other than that, whatever you two geniuses can recommend. 'S why I asked for your help."
With a shrug, Forge walked down the row, eyes half-closed, fingers out and brushing the hoods of the cars as he walked by. "Head gasket's cracked... bent tie rod... oil pan's about to drop... oh, this one'll need a couple grand in transmission work alone... jesus, is there anything in this lot that isn't an accident waiting to happen?"
Stopping in between two rows, he paused and closed his eyes. This wasn't the usual situation in which he tried to force his power to work actively, but it was good practice nonetheless. In his mind, he saw the outlines of the rows of automobiles, each one like an intricate diagram of engine parts, transmissions, wiring, ignition, fuel systems, all connected in a complex machine. Dozens of them lined up, all completely open to him. This must be what a telepath feels like in a crowd, he thought, not for the first time.
Slowly he turned, pointing to the end of the row, in a corner by the fence. "That one's not in too bad shape," he announced, then opened his eyes.
Raising her eyebrows, Amanda wandered over to the vehicle in question. It didn't look like much, but that was sort of the point. One of them, any way. It was small, of a make she didn't recognise right away (not that she would any way - she'd joyridden in cars, not worried about their makes!) and the white paint was dull and scratched here and there. But it looked solid, and she was willing to rely on Forge's diagnosis. Glancing over at Angelo, she said: "Looks all right on the outside. What do you think, love?"
Angelo eyed it dubiously. "Sure, if you let Forge at the locks before you park it anywhere. A kid with a piece of wire could get into one of those things... did, actually."
"So no leaving anything valuable in it, gotcha." She looked back at Forge. "How much for your services?" She grinned. "Your mechanical ones, that is."
"I don't know, the idea of you owing me a favor is a tempting one," Forge said with a grin, albeit one that faded to a stoic deadpan expression as another gentleman joined their group.
"Hello there! I'm Mike, Mike Omar, can I help you find what you are looking for today?" The smarminess and sincerity practically emanated from the swarthy salesman, along with the smell of some vaguely foreign cologne. "First time buying a car, miss?"
"I was after something to get me around, yeah." Amanda eyed the man with a certain degree of distrust. One of those sorts. "My boyfriend and my friend here, they were helping out. They know cars pretty well," she said, almost innocently.
"Inside an' out, between us", Angelo said in a similar tone, or as close as he could get, stepping up beside her. "She needs somethin' reliable."
Mike smiled too widely to be genuine. "Well, you gentlemen would probably appreciate this one over here," he said, pointing to a four-door compact with flaking gold paint. "Only eighty-five thousand miles on it, single owner, it's got all-wheel drive..."
"It's got a leaking oil pan gasket and the rear universal joint is going to need an overhaul, that's close to five thousand dollars right there," Forge said bluntly. "If you're going to take that off the asking price, of course..."
The salesman's smile faded. "We... um... stand behind the mechanical condition of... all the cars we sell. All the warrantied cars, you know. And this one..." He stopped as Forge just shook his head and jerked a thumb at the white car Amanda was still standing next to.
"This one," Amanda said firmly. "How much?" Her smile was anything but nice.
It wasn't often Amanda felt completely out of her depth, at least not in non-emotional situations, but upon walking into the used car lot that had been recommended, she quailed a little. If it hadn't been for the two young men with her, she might have turned and walked back out, resigning herself to a lifetime of taking the train and carrying crates of books around in cabs.
"So, here we are then," she said, hand seeking out Angelo's. "Where do we start?"
Forge looked at the rows of cars with an undisguised look of mixed horror and contempt on his face, like a three-star Michelin chef walking into a Rotary Club potluck. "Oh god, the horror... okay, well. Nondescript won't be a problem here, I don't think you could pay someone to steal any of these. Certainly not me. What are you looking for, really? Cargo space, horsepower, gas mileage, that certain je ne sais quoi?"
Angelo looked out over the cars with frank disdain. "Might find one that's good enough in this lot. One that won't break down every five minutes, anyway."
Amanda couldn't help rolling her eyes a little. Car snobs. "Something reliable, that won't fall apart on me, even if I have to occasionally drive a bit reckless." After the bus run had been hijacked, she was'nt taking any chance on anonymity protecting her. "On top of that, a decent amount of space in the boot - I don't know if you've noticed, but I tend to lug a lot of books and files around." She shrugged. "Other than that, whatever you two geniuses can recommend. 'S why I asked for your help."
With a shrug, Forge walked down the row, eyes half-closed, fingers out and brushing the hoods of the cars as he walked by. "Head gasket's cracked... bent tie rod... oil pan's about to drop... oh, this one'll need a couple grand in transmission work alone... jesus, is there anything in this lot that isn't an accident waiting to happen?"
Stopping in between two rows, he paused and closed his eyes. This wasn't the usual situation in which he tried to force his power to work actively, but it was good practice nonetheless. In his mind, he saw the outlines of the rows of automobiles, each one like an intricate diagram of engine parts, transmissions, wiring, ignition, fuel systems, all connected in a complex machine. Dozens of them lined up, all completely open to him. This must be what a telepath feels like in a crowd, he thought, not for the first time.
Slowly he turned, pointing to the end of the row, in a corner by the fence. "That one's not in too bad shape," he announced, then opened his eyes.
Raising her eyebrows, Amanda wandered over to the vehicle in question. It didn't look like much, but that was sort of the point. One of them, any way. It was small, of a make she didn't recognise right away (not that she would any way - she'd joyridden in cars, not worried about their makes!) and the white paint was dull and scratched here and there. But it looked solid, and she was willing to rely on Forge's diagnosis. Glancing over at Angelo, she said: "Looks all right on the outside. What do you think, love?"
Angelo eyed it dubiously. "Sure, if you let Forge at the locks before you park it anywhere. A kid with a piece of wire could get into one of those things... did, actually."
"So no leaving anything valuable in it, gotcha." She looked back at Forge. "How much for your services?" She grinned. "Your mechanical ones, that is."
"I don't know, the idea of you owing me a favor is a tempting one," Forge said with a grin, albeit one that faded to a stoic deadpan expression as another gentleman joined their group.
"Hello there! I'm Mike, Mike Omar, can I help you find what you are looking for today?" The smarminess and sincerity practically emanated from the swarthy salesman, along with the smell of some vaguely foreign cologne. "First time buying a car, miss?"
"I was after something to get me around, yeah." Amanda eyed the man with a certain degree of distrust. One of those sorts. "My boyfriend and my friend here, they were helping out. They know cars pretty well," she said, almost innocently.
"Inside an' out, between us", Angelo said in a similar tone, or as close as he could get, stepping up beside her. "She needs somethin' reliable."
Mike smiled too widely to be genuine. "Well, you gentlemen would probably appreciate this one over here," he said, pointing to a four-door compact with flaking gold paint. "Only eighty-five thousand miles on it, single owner, it's got all-wheel drive..."
"It's got a leaking oil pan gasket and the rear universal joint is going to need an overhaul, that's close to five thousand dollars right there," Forge said bluntly. "If you're going to take that off the asking price, of course..."
The salesman's smile faded. "We... um... stand behind the mechanical condition of... all the cars we sell. All the warrantied cars, you know. And this one..." He stopped as Forge just shook his head and jerked a thumb at the white car Amanda was still standing next to.
"This one," Amanda said firmly. "How much?" Her smile was anything but nice.
