View source for 10674/When the detectives car stops working...

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2022/04/05
|Location=Canelo's Auto and Body
|Synopsis=Sara takes her work car into the shop Robbie happens to be working at. Witchblade detects the Rider, which leads to a 'get to know you' conversation that is much like pulling teeth or herding cats.
|Cast of Characters=1365,918
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>Canelo's isn't the biggest, the best, or even the cheapest place to get your car fixed in this city. But the owner's a nice guy, and the mechanics seem to know their shit well enough.<br><br>Even if one of them's currently slacking off when he should probably be working. Kid's dressed in grease-stained coveralls and has a baseball cap on backwards, his lanky frame perched like a gargoyle atop the hood of an extremely well-kept black '69 Charger parked in the lot. He's smoking a cigarette and fiddling with his phone. Thankfully, he's got no customers right now; the garage's two bays are empty, despite the sign out from offering half-price oil changes.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>For the past couple of months, Sara hadn't been on active investigation duty. There were a lot of i's to dot, and t's to cross after her Captain learned the full truth regarding the past couple of years reports. The Witchblade couldn't out the truth in those reports, couldn't explain how some cases her solved by killing the rampaging demon before it could eat anyone else. All of that however, was now the past. In the next week Sara's secret identity would become public, so everyone of those reports had be to rewritten... think it's bad the first time, try redoing them all, in triplicate. It's the price you pay for being an NYPD detective, part of the SHIELD, the newest Avenger, oh yeah... and being the wielder of the Witchblade.<br><br>The car she was forced to use while 'on duty' was a joke. The NYPD didn't have a lot of money, and normally the cars were kept up by force mechanics, but when it starts smoking while in the field, you find the nearest shop, pull in and pray that they're willing to find out why there was smoke coming out of it. Basic sedan, nothing fancy.<br><br>The kid smoking is noticed before the car is, and what a sweet car it is, and that's all the further the car makes it before it dies. Climbing out, she kicks it once and looks around for someone to pronounce it dead.<br><br>Normally a detective is requires to wear business casual, look presentable, but Sara stopped worrying about that years ago. She wore a pair of new jeans, with a green button front shirt tucked in at the waist, a pair of black leather work boots and over the shirt a black leather jacket to help conceal her side arm in the shoulder holster.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>He's playing some music; that much is evident once Sara climbs out of the car. Sounds like Spanish language rap, and he's nodding his head along to it as he smokes.<br><br>Maybe it's the smell of something burning that draws his attention, or maybe it's the sight of the young woman giving the thing a swift kick. Robbie pauses a moment like he's trying to decide whether he'll get away with minding his own business, and waiting for her to leave. &lt;What, on foot?&gt; He sighs, and switches the music off, shoves the phone into a back pocket of his coveralls, then hops down to the ground.<br><br>"Good news is, ain't likely to be your transmission," he informs her, approaching Sara and the hunk of NYPD junk at a lazy stroll. "Bad news is.." He steps past her, runs a hand along the hood. "Won't know for sure until I get in there and take a look."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>The very minute the kid moves, Sara's eyes are on him. You can learn a great deal from reading body language, which was the first thing she was doing, the second was determining his intent. Sure, he could work here but that didn't mean he was going to offer a deal. He could just as easily offer to repair the piece of shit, as go for her wallet, that was the nature of New York after all.<br><br>Following him with her eyes as he approaches, a hint of a smile plays on her lips when he speaks, then it faulters. The voice inside her head that was the Witchblade was already screaming, and he wasn't always coherent, this time however the warning was straight forward and blunt. Did that mean she would just blurt it out? Hell no, it was better for her to watch, wait, and if she got really lucky, get the car fixed /before/ what spirit in the kid felt the presence of the Witchblade just like Noble had done.<br><br>"Feel free," she offered calmly as the smile danced back to her face. "I'm not going anywhere, obviously, and the bill won't be an issue." Reaching into her jacket pocket, she dangle the keys in his direction, offering them to him to take. "It's a piece of shit, we both know that."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>He's got to be, what. Eighteen? Nineteen? Probably not old enough to drink, even. But he has that wary, hungry way of moving, like a junkyard dog that's had to learn how to be canny in order to survive.<br><br>"You a cop?" he asks directly, rapping on the hood with his knuckles and turning to face her. "Don't look like one." He watches her evenly as he drags off his cigarette, then drops it to the ground and crushes it with the heel of his boot. Smattering of freckles across his nose, and if she's paying attention, she might spot an oddity: heterochromia. His right eye's dark, his left is bright green.<br><br>Wordlessly, he accepts the keys between two fingers, gives them a little flick, and catches them in his palm. &lt;Don't look at her. Don't touch her. Let someone else take this one.&gt; Sara likely can't *hear* the voice in his head, but maybe she can see the tug-of-war on his features as he considers her.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>Keeping her stance even, light, and ready, Sara follows his movement again with just her eyes, and keeps her hands hanging loosely at her sides. No, she couldn't hear the voice in his head, she had one of her own to listen to. The danger was the same as when she met Johnny, and with Noble, that moment when the two powerful entities sized each other up. What made her want to roll her eyes was the knowledge that they both served a specific purpose that had nothing to do with each other, in fact those purposes never crossed over in any area.<br><br>"Detective Pezzini," she offered in answer to his question, but doesn't offer her hand to shake. That would be asking for serious trouble on both their parts. "Sara, if you prefer," is added.<br><br>Once he reaches the hood of the car, she turns slightly to be more directly facing him. Yes, she was young for a detective, twenty-five, maybe twenty-six, but as she moved to fold her arms lightly across her chest it shifted the jacket enough to reveal the detectives badge on her belt. It also reveals a very intricate, wide silver band bracelet on her right wrist. In the silver woven together are two stones, one is a massive red stone that for a single fleeting moment looked like it was swirling smoke, the other is a smaller red stone that looks like it's part of a second bracelet that has been woven together with the first.<br><br>"I can see it in your eyes you know, in your face," she finally says, still just as calmly as one might say 'nice weather we're having'. "You should probably consider all the possible options before giving in."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>&lt;I said get the fuck out. Find an excuse, just leave.&gt; "Robbie," answers the mechanic, careful to keep her in his sights at all times. Just Robbie; no last name. Little glances from the corner of his peripheral vision, though direct eye contact's eschewed now. Maybe it's the admission that she's a detective. "Lotta spooks and cops in this town," he notes, adjusting the ballcap on his head so he can briefly rifle fingers through his dark hair. Then it's tugged back down again, and the car's unlocked with a quick twist of the key.<br><br>"Don't know what you're talking about," he murmurs as he slides into the driver's seat, and pops the hood. "But that's some bling you got there, detective." His eyes tip up to hers, no smile in sight. "Sara."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>"Sure, you can go with that lie if it makes it easier," Sara then offers with a slight chuckle, leaning back against the side of the car. Kid was smart, playing it cool, and if she didn't have the voice of a God screaming in her ear she might of let the kid get away with it.<br><br>"You aren't alone, Robbie," she then adds, arms still folded lightly across her chest even as her eyes follow his movements. "Probably think you are, think you have to try and deal with what's inside by yourself, the others thought that too. I think it's the nature of what lies within, they all think they have to stand alone in their tasks, when in fact in this world, at this time, there are far worse things then Riders out there."<br><br>She dropped the name, she knew that would get a rise and reaction, and she was ready for what might come. Danger, no matter how quickly it might rise or how slow didn't matter. Witchblade would have the armor around her body before damage could reach her, it was his nature to protect her. All that remained now was to wait and see what happened.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>He doesn't move, doesn't speak as Sara continues. Calls him on his bullshit, talks like she *knows* him, but how the hell is that possible? If she could sense his breathing, his heart rate, she'd know that they've both started to spike. &lt;GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER, WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?&gt; The smoke from the engine billows about the car in a pungent white haze, wreathing the young detective's legs and partially obscuring Robbie's slouched, lanky frame.<br><br>"Don't think it's your radiator hose," he tells her quietly, voice like a knife. "Gonna have to go take a look, to be sure. But probably a coolant leak." He pinches his eyes shut, and digs his teeth into his lower lip like he's fighting off a migraine. "I don't.. I don't know what you're talking about." &lt;Don't you wonder what she's done, that she knows these things? Maybe she has sin, too.&gt;<br><br>He climbs out of the car quickly, and pulls away to go check under the hood. Probably before he can do something really stupid.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>As he moves, Sara turns slowly to keep her eyes on him but her arms never change their position. She's a threat, of that there is no doubt, but she's not planning to do anything. The first action will he his, or it won't happen, that's how it will go down.<br><br>"Wow, you're really sticking to it huh?" she laughs, shaking her head a little. "Neither of the other two stuck to the lies this hard, one was already flame on which made it really hard for him to conceal it... the other, well he there to help with the angel problem, hard not to let the Rider out when dealing with angels, right?"<br><br>Canting her head slightly, blue eyes beneath thick lashes just watch him intently, but the third eye... the large red stone that has shifted from being just a stone and looks so much like an eye now, is also watching him.<br><br>"I'm not a threat to you or him," she finally says after a moment of just watching him. "But I can tell you, in this city, you can't wander around and expect no one to know you, see you, see what's lurking inside you. New York is the city the aliens tried to destroy, and failed. The city the angels tried to destroy, and failed. A city full of magical beings, mutants, metahumans, aliens, demons, angels... you are /not/ alone, and won't be able to stay alone. Better to get out a head of it /before/ there's a problem."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>He can *feel* it watching her, that third eye. Not that he has any mystical sight to speak of, but how couldn't he? The thing fairly screams with power, and Eli knows it. And whatever Eli knows, *he* knows. She can see him swallow thickly, and his adam's apple jerks hard with it. But he keeps his head down, starts fiddling with mangled engine wiring.<br><br>"Figured I'd keep my head down," he tells her quietly, scratching at his nose with greasy knuckles. Which, of course, leaves a grease smear behind on his face. "Do my job. Mind my own business." More rummaging around; wires counted off quickly, then a wrench produced from his coveralls pocket. "Don't got no problem with anyone whose conscience is clear, you know?"<br><br>Then he lifts his head to glance up at her.. and the change is impossible to miss. His eyes are rimmed in an orange-red glow that starts to consume the whites, then the irises, until they're aflame and peppering his skin with smoke and char. "Now tell me," and it's his voice but not *quite*. Mangled and distorted ever so slightly by the Rider. "Who the fuck are you?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>There he was. Sara was pretty certain that enough poking would wake the beast, so to speak. At least the kid stopped lying, because that had just made him look stupid and clearly, he wasn't. He'd made it this far without being discovered or seen, so there was skill and intelligence there, and now... the Rider.<br><br>The reaction, the flaming eyes, the change in his voice, none of it seemed to phase her. She turned ever so slightly more toward him, blue eyes meeting the flaming ones without pause, hesitation or fear. "I am Sara Pezzini, wielder of the Witchblade, and we are not your enemy," she replies, then shifts her right arm away from herself so that one; he can see the bracelet form the gauntlet that is the form the Witchblade is known through time for around her right hand and forearm, and two; both the Rider and the boy can see Witchblade's eye, meet it if they wish, to know him in his true form.<br><br>"You can lay low," she continues just as calmly. "You can hide out, but the minute you Ride, everyone with any sense for magic or the unnatural nature of what you are, will know you're there... and that, that will draw attention to you whether you want it or not. I know your calling, I know your purpose, and innocent lives would be harmed simply by doing what you are meant to do... that is, if you remain hidden, keeping your head low, and hoping no one would get up in your business."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>Robbie's a nice kid. Mostly. When he isn't indulging in his nasty habit of lighting his head on fire and brutally murdering people who, by all rights, had it coming. Or so he says. But right now? He's right on that very fine line between nice and.. not. He's still in control, if only by a thread. And with his boss occasionally turning to glance at them from the shop window, and plenty of witnesses passing by on the street? It's really probably best things *stay* that way.<br><br>Sara, however, is an enigma; and one he's now determined to solve. "The Witchblade," he repeats, straightening slowly. Wrench still in his hand, he approaches at a slow prowl. He might lack the intimidation of sheer bulk, but he's taller than her. And if the other Riders are anything like him, he's *much* stronger than he looks. "Explain to me." His gaze is fixated on the gauntlet's 'eye' as he moves closer.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>Although her eyes remain fixed on him, Sara doesn't move. Even as he gets closer her arm remains held up where he can clearly see the gauntlet, formed by a million tiny tendrils of metal that sprang from the bracelet and wrapped into place on her arm. The red eye follows him as well, more interested in what lurks inside the kid than the kid. Were she anyone else she would likely be impressed and perhaps even intimidated, but there wasn't a single thing Robbie or his Rider could do to her, and she knew that. If his Rider was old enough, existed long enough, he would know it too, but perhaps that was a lesson this Rider might push to learn the hard way. Johnny would be pissed if that happened.<br><br>"The Witchblade," she puts to words what he didn't say. "He is older than life on this planet, older than life on any planet. He is the child of Old Gods, Gaea and Chthlon, making him a God as well. He was born to destroy Gods and Goddess, to bring balance back to the universe before any of us were even a twinkle in the eyes of the cosmos, and now he exists to maintain the balance. His purpose is to kill anything that does not belong in this realm, things that seek to harm innocent people who have committed no crimes."<br><br>Then she turns the hand slightly so he can see more of it, see the smoothness of the metal that only moments ago were tendrils of metal and before that, a bracelet. "So you see, he does not stand against you or your purpose. You strike down those who deserve to be destroyed, those who have committed crimes and sinned, the very same sort that he," she wiggles the armored fingers on her right hand. "would seek to kill."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>His own Rider's neither ancient nor primordial; just a very, very vengeful spirit that's fused itself to his own psyche, rendering him as much demon as human. A child, really, in the scheme of things. And Robbie himself is so young; had he not been through half the things he has, he himself would be recoiling from the bracelet and what it represents. But Eli's curiosity's been piqued now, and thus, so has his own.<br><br>Closer still, until Sara can smell the cigarette on him that he was smoking a few minutes ago. The soap and the engine grease and the adrenaline. He reaches out like he's going to touch the thing, but something makes him pull his hand back at the last second. No. *Bad idea*. "How did it find you?" The voice is still his, but the words aren't quite.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>Noting how he drew his hand back, Sara extends her hand toward him, offering him a chance to touch the gauntlet if he wants to, if the Rider wants to.<br><br>"He," she corrects softly. "Witchblade is male, and he saved my life." She glances around them for a moment, then her eyes go right back to the pair in front of her.<br><br>"He chooses his Wielder, those who try to wield him that were not chosen, lose their arm," she uses her left hand to indicate the place on her arm, right at the top of the gauntlet that almost reaches her elbow, that false wielders would lose their arm.<br><br>"He had long been in the hands of a man who wanted his power, but could not wield him. He tried, and was scarred in ways far worse than losing an arm." An almost wicked smile touches her lips at this. "You see, the wielder is always female, and Mr. Irons... well let's just say, failed for more reasons that being male. I have no idea why Irons brought Witchblade with him to the deal, but I can tell you that my police partner and I were shot in our attempt to break up the sale going on, and I would have died had Witchblade not chosen me in that moment. My partner was not so lucky, he died that day."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>His eyes are still glowing that hazy orange-red, blackened to smoke at the edges where it meets what looks like smooth, metallic bone. Like embers, remnants of a once-blazing inferno. Looking into them, she might sense the restraint he's exerting *not* to go full Rider. Not to excise each and every one of her sins, and cast judgement on her for them. "He," Robbie repeats.<br><br>And then his curiosity wins out, and he brushes his fingertips against the gauntlet. Even in his human skin, he's extraordinarily difficult to kill. But not impossible; so caution is often prudent. "You say there are others. Others like me. How do you know?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>Sara had looked into the eyes of a Rider, two in fact, she had seen the eternal flames of hell looking back at her. She had seen both the Riders, their bodies covered in flames as they prepared to go against their enemies. She could see in Robbie's eyes what she had seen in their's, including that fine line between control and the Rider. He could try to judge her, but he would find her remarkably without sin. Everything she had done in life, even before Witchblade, had been on the side of law and order, thus why she was a police officer. She had even hunted down the other NYPD officers who had killed her father, a beat cop who had stumbled on their little 'behind the scene' action and it had gotten them killed.<br><br>The metal of the gauntlet is cool to the touch and smooth, shined to perfection, enough to reflect everything that passes by it. It is that way on purpose, were the armor present on Sara's body it would be entirely different, and a lot more painful to try and touch. This was a 'get to know you' situation, so she had made certain that Witchblade, in spite of his protests, did not have any of the usual barbs. The stone, or eye in this case, if he dared to touch it is what felt hot, seering hot really, but nothing that would actually cause a wound.<br><br>"There are two others that I know of," she says after he's touched the gauntlet. "And I know, because Witchblade knows. I know that inside of you, joined with you, your soul and the Rider are one. He is a spirit of Vengeance, and I have been told there are many of them out there. I don't know how or why you were chosen, that is between you and him."<br><br>She cants her head slightly, watching his face, and those eyes. It was harder to look at him, just a kid, and realize the hells he must have faced, the hell he lives with a Rider inside him. At this moment however, she knew there was no time to linger on it. Perhaps another time she could ask. "You can trust me, Robbie," she finally says. "And he can trust me. Neither of you have to be alone in this."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>It's like getting up close and personal with an apex predator. One with enough restraint to behave himself in polite company, but only barely. Make one wrong move, and all that finely wrought control could simply *snap*. And then the demon's in charge.<br><br>She can hear his slightly laboured breathing, and see the sweat gleaming on his forehead and the hollow of his throat as his fingertips continue to skim the smooth metal. Then his eyes raise to Sara's blues, and the next time he blinks, the fire's gone out. Just that odd, mismatched gaze fixed on hers. That tenuous trust he doesn't offer to many; much less some girl he's only just met an hour ago. "You got a leak in your coolant hose," he tells her in a low, raspy murmur, mind on anything but the damned car. He doesn't move just yet. "I'm gonna pull it and put in a new one for you, all right? Should be good to go in half an hour. Or you, uh. You can swing by tomorrow and pick it up."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>Watching his struggle was painful for Sara. She had seen that struggle with Johnny once, and he'd managed to keep the Rider in check, but this was just a teenager, a kid. He had strength of will, he had control for the time being, but damn, in that moment, did she wish she could take the burden from him. She knew she couldn't, that there was no way in heaven or hell that it was possible, but that didn't stop her chest from aching with the desire to take his pain away. Was it the police officer in her? Was it Witchblade's bleed over, the artifacts desire to make right? It wasn't clear, not even to Sara, but it was still there in her chest like a gut punch.<br><br>"Which would be easier for you?" She asks quietly, not moving just yet. "I have no where to be, and no way to get there, but I can walk away and come back tomorrow... so long as it is you that is here tomorrow."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>He starts to speak, lips parting and then pressing together again as the silence is prolonged. Still watching her eyes, like he can't *quite* understand what he's seeing. Why she's here, talking to him. How she found him. He swallows, and looks away as another car pulls into the garage. Looks like it's been in a minor wreck, but evidently it's still running. The owner seems none too happy, though.<br><br>"I could give you a ride," he blurts out before he's had a chance to think about that, and decide, no. No, this is a poor idea. This is how kids like him end up dead. "I mean, if you want." He scratches at his nose with a knuckle, glancing back to the young woman in front of him. "I could. You know." A big shoulder's hitched toward the gleaming black Charger parked in the lot.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>Sara looks towards the charger. Doesn't matter your age, if you're a car enthusiast, that's a sweet ride right there, but it might be too much for him. She could tell he was struggling, not merely with the Rider, but with himself. How long had he been like this and alone? He was trying, that much she could see, it was clear in his eyes and demeanor. He wanted to, he didn't want to, because trust was hard.<br><br>"Full disclosure?" She says with a smile. "I would /love/ a ride in that car, but only if you think you can handle it." That probably sounded wrong. "I mean, handle taking me some place. I told you, you can trust me, and I know trust don't come easy. Tell me what I can do to help that, and I'll do it. So think on it. If you believe you can give me a ride home, I'll take it. Other wise, I'll call an uber or a friend to come get me."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>It's a beast, no doubt about it. The thing fairly oozes souped-up, supercharged HEMI menace; it pretty much puts every other vehicle in that lot to shame.<br><br>"Wouldn't've offered if I didn't think I could handle it, you know? Shift's done in five, anyway." He tries to play off his caution, his distrust, but Sara probably knows better. "Gonna let Diego know about the part. Make sure we got it in stock." He begins to back up slowly, shoulders still cowed like he's getting ready to brawl. "Meet you back out here, okay? You tell me where you need to go." Then he turns and prowls off for the office after slamming the hood shut. A grease rag comes out of his pocket as he moves, so he can wipe his hands clean.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>"I'll be right there," Sara states with that same, almost disarming smile. You didn't survive in New York as a cop without learning a thing or two, which included the ability to read someone like a book. Some where harder, took more time to get a good read, others were easy. Robbie was in the middle, sometimes it was obvious what was going through his head, other times reading him was like pulling teeth. A few things were always present however, at least if she was reading him correctly. Uneasiness, paranoia, mistrust, and pain.<br><br>Getting into the piece of crap car one last time, she grabs her pack off the back seat and slings it over her shoulder before walking slowly over to the charger. She was not stupid, she did not touch it, instead she walks around it to admire the beauty. Classic, true beast, ready for action and likely just as possessed that Johnny's motorcycle.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>The thing almost seems to be *watching* Sara as she approaches it. Which is absurd, of course, because cars aren't sentient or aware. Right? Also notable is the impeccable condition the Charger is in; not a single scratch in its glossy black paint. Maybe the blower on the hood is overkill, though. Boys and their toys.<br><br>Robbie returns a few minutes later, changed out of the coveralls and wearing a pair of dark jeans, a ratty old hoodie and a leather jacket unzipped over top. He spots the dark-haired girl checking out his car and heads on over. In this getup, there's no mistaking the street in him. He clearly does not come from the good side of the tracks.<br><br>"Where you headed?" he asks as he jangles his keys into his palm with a little flick, and goes to unlock the driver's side door.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>Sentience wasn't a requirement in a vehicle that belonged to a Ghost Rider, Sara had figured that out with Johnny's bike. She'd never admit to Johnny that the Charger was way fricken cooler, no, that would never, ever get admitted out loud. One does not tell your boyfriend that his bike sucked compared to a teenaged boys car.<br><br>Watching him as she return, there is no judgement in her eyes. He could be a street rat, gang member, or just a poor kid and none of that would really matter to her unless he was breaking the law... and given what he was, even breaking the law would likely lead her to look the other way.<br><br>"Brooklyn," she answered as her eyes follow him, still not remotely touching the car. "If that's too far, then down town will work, can get a friend to take me from there."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>"Brooklyn ain't too far," he replies, popping his door open and leaning against the car's frame for a moment as he watches her. "I live up that way, too." He runs his tonguetip along his teeth, considering. "For now, anyway. But rent eats through my paycheck pretty quick, so.." He's going to have to find some place else, is the implication there.<br><br>Turning, he climbs into the car and leans over to open the passenger side door. "C'mon. Get in," he instructs. "It won't bite, unless I tell it to." There's the first smile he's dared to offer her, sketching dimples in both cheeks.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>Now that he's given permission, Sara will climb in. "I know how boys are about their cars, Robbie," she states as she fastens her seatbelt. "No way was I touching this beauty without permission."<br><br>She wanted to run her hands over the interior, but she would settle for the seat she was sitting in. There was a part of her, most likely the part that made is easier for her to accept the Witchblade connected to her soul, that wanted to see what the Charger was like when flaming. She'd been around too long, that's what it boiled down to.<br><br>"Brooklyn used to have reasonable rent, not so much any more," she snorts. "One of the reasons I'm glad my father got his house when he did, gives me a place to live and rooms to rent out in the area near the college, and not far from my precinct." Was that subtle enough? Perhaps. Maybe she should club him over the head with it... at some point. "Four bedroom house, with two extra bedrooms in the basement... maintained by a Ghost Rider..." okay, that was a little clubbing and dangling her boyfriend as bait at the same time.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>The interior's about as vintage as it gets. Everything's original, and in as impossibly perfect condition as the outside. None of it matches its owner, who's sporting worn, faded -- if clean -- clothing, and a couple of grease smudges on a cheek that could use a shave; he's got a good few days of beard growth going on that makes him look a little older than his twenty years.<br><br>"You like cars?" he asks conversationally, keying the ignition with a low, throaty purr as the beast comes to life. The thing runs as smooth as velvet. "And if I didn't know better, I'd think you trying to sell me a room." He pulls a pair of leather gloves on, belts in, and puts the car into gear. "Thing is, me and my little brother, we're a package deal."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>Once her eyes have finished the look around the car, they land back on him and a smile returns to Sara's lips.<br><br>"Cars and bikes actually," she replies, settling her hands in her lap and as she does, the gauntlet unwraps back into the bracelet. "Got the love of them from my dad. He started rebuilding cars when he was a teen, moved to motorcyles in his twenties."<br><br>Shifting her eyes to look out the windshield, she continues talking in a casual tone. "I am trying to sell you a room," she admits bluntly. "Package deal and all, Robbie. Everyone deserves a safe place that won't get ripped away from them the minute something goes wrong. That's the problem with people today, its all about money and what they can get out of you. My dad raised me better than that." She glances toward him for a moment, to read his face in regards to what she said, then looks back out the window. "Tell me about your brother."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>"Bikes too, huh." He merges them into traffic smoothly, and keeps one gloved hand resting easy on the steering wheel, while the other hugs the gear shift. Clearly someone who's accustomed to driving a little more.. aggressively. But he's behaving himself, with a guest in his ride. "What, we talking Harley or Kawasaki?" His eyes rove over her briefly like he's trying to suss her out, before returning to the road.<br><br>As for the room, "I'm gonna have to think about it. Talk to Gabe." A little tap of the gas when they hit a straight patch of road without any other cars, and the beast surges forward with a guttural snarl like it's been waiting for this moment. Machine's got a lot in common with its owner, it seems. "What do you want to know?" About his brother. Up go the barriers again, Robbie's jaw setting stubbornly.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>Body language, more like body screaming. Sara totally sees that he's keeping his cool, which makes her chuckle. "I can't bust you for speeding while inside the car," she offers quietly, wiggling her brow a little. The offer made, she'd wait and see if he took it.<br><br>"Harley, unless we're talking racing bikes, then we need to break out my Ducati," she chances another glance his way. "Two Harleys, one Triumph, and one Ducati. I ride one of the Harley's regularly, to work, which is where it is still parked. The other I gave to my roommate, the Triumph and Ducati are in lock down, high security, no one goes near them without risk of death.... so, you wanna see em some time?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>"Ain't worried 'bout you busting me for speeding," Robbie replies with a snort of amusement. Like maybe he *can* act like a human, rather than a brick wall, once he starts to warm up a little. But if Sara wants fast? Well, fast is what she'll get. He corners abruptly at the next light, veering off the shortest route into Brooklyn to instead take them through the backroads, and toward an abandoned aqueduct. Left this time; he holds the clutch, revs up the rpms and downshifts quickly to kick the muscle car into a smooth drift. Then pulls out right on target, allowing the wheels to regain traction and propel them forward with enough force to slam them back in their seats.<br><br>"That meant to be a serious question?" he retorts, about the bikes. Sara's slid a sidelong look, one corner of his mouth twitching like he really wants to smile. Then he's focused again on his driving as they pick up speed, dust kicked up behind them in a thick haze. *This* is what the Charger was born to do.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>Oh yeah... this is what this Charger was meant for and Sara knew it. She needed to feel that speed and hear the engine screaming, and she was not at all disappointed. If she was in the south she might scream 'yee haw' but she's a New Yorker through and through so what he gets, as he pours on the speed and shows off his driving and the car is a resounding, "HELLS YEAH!" to go right along with the rush. Sometimes, letting your hair down was just what the doctor ordered, and she hoped it helped him as much as it did her.<br><br>"Dead serious," she replies, once she got control of her brain again. Fast cars or bikes, she was a sucker for them. "You want to see them? Ride one? I'm game. Haven't even let either of my boyfriends ride em. One of them would likely wrap it around a telephone poll, break his neck, heal in a few minutes and laugh it off. The other, well... I don't know how well my bike would do being on fire."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>The driving's in his blood, much like it seems to be in hers. The mechanic schtick? Well, it's a job. A job he's pretty good at. But this? This is where his heart is; and someone as perceptive as Sara is bound to pick up on it. He doesn't look over at her, though. Not when he has to maneuver the car at this speed. Just his angular profile given to her, and those smudges under his eyes that are probably lack of sleep.<br><br>Then he downshifts and drifts them into the next ninety degree turn with the help of the e-brake and some careful steering; then kicks the gas again to send them hurtling forward with a growl of all eight cylinders. "Sure I'd like to see 'em. If you ain't fucking with me." Oddly enough, he doesn't even blink at her mention of multiple boyfriends. Maybe this sounds perfectly normal to him.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>There was something about the sound and feel of a good car, not the pieces of shit the NYPD kept for their detectives. In a high speed chase, and they happened from time to time, those cars were more likely to explode from hitting a bump than catching the bad guys. This Charger though, she knew there was more to it then meets the eye. She'd seem what Johnny's bike could do, the damage it could take without actually being damaged, and the fact that it drive up the side of a building. In the moment though, it didn't matter to her that there might be a little something extra, it was a beautiful car and she got to see it do its thing in the hands of a skilled, overly skilled, driver.<br><br>"I'm not fuckin with you," she replies with with a chuckle. "Wouldn't bother mentioning them if I intended to fuck around. You're skilled, should probably be driving race cars, so I trust you with my bikes. Those sort of skills," she looks over at him now. "Not everyone is blessed with em, and you most certainly are."<br><br>"You started driving before it was legal for you to drive," she then comments. "Got into speed early, and learned how to read the vehicle you were driving. You unleash them like someone would a wild animal, then control that power like someone twice your age... and yes, I'm a good detective, it's in my blood, so I apologize for reading you like that."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>"Seem to know an awful lot about me, chica," he murmurs. His gloved hand remains relaxed on the steering wheel, while the other gets ready to downshift as they merge off the aqueduct and back onto the road proper, speed dropping like a rock. "You either smart, or good at guessing. I'm betting on the first." This time, he does dare a sidelong glance at her, one corner of his mouth lifting in a not-quite smile. She's intriguing as hell, he'll give her that.<br><br>As to her observations, "Did what I had to do, you know?" Back to the road and the task of driving this beast; he shifts again smoothly, and returns both hands to the wheel so he can maneuver them in and out of traffic like he's threading a needle. "You spend long enough around me, I'll find what makes you tick, too." They're in Brooklyn proper now, and he glances to her for some sign of where she'd like him to go.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>Once she recognizes Brooklyn, Sara flat out gives him the address to the house. One of those lovely little numbers with a small front yard, slightly bigger back yard, two stories with a long driveway and a garage. The type most of America believes if the dream, but don't realize the dream is what you make it, not what you live in.<br><br>"I am smart," she states with no hesitation, once the address is given, then a slow grin spreads across her face. "I'm also good at guessing and not at all humble about my abilities. You shouldn't be either."<br><br>The neighborhood was mixture of families and college students, Columbia University not being too far off. "And if you want to know what makes me tick, Robbie..." she turns her eyes back to him, because she's seen these houses a millions times. "... just ask. Any question you ask, I'll answer."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>He clearly knows this area at least passingly well. Lower lip caught between his teeth, he makes a small course correction to line them up with her street, and within minutes the Charger is pulling up in front of her yard. "Is that so," he replies, gaze shifting from the little picture perfect house, to the dark-haired young woman seated beside him. He leaves the engine running, a low, warm rumble that's felt as much as heard.<br><br>She's cocky, which he enjoys a little more than he'd like to admit. "Don't think keepin' my mouth shut's the same thing as bein' humble, chica." His eyes flick to the window, then back to her face. "This is you. I'll give you a call when the car's done." Which means he'll need her number, naturally.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:918|Sara Pezzini (918)}} has posed:'''<br>Reaching into the pocket of her leather jacket, Sara produces a business card, the same one she hands out to witnesses, but this one has three numbers on it, instead of two. One for work, work cell phone, and her personal cell phone.<br><br>"Yeah, it's true. Ask, you'll get answers," she states, offering him the card. "As for silence, that's what kept you alive so it's your go-to, you don't feel the need to talk, you'll let actions speak for you when needed, and when actions aren't available, you'll use as few words as possible to get your point across. I told you, I'm good at what I do."<br><br>Unfastening the seat belt, she opens the passenger door, but before she climbs out she looks back. "Talk to your brother Robbie, work it out, cause you're both welcome here if you want." Climbing out, she adds, "Feel free to text if some questions come up, texting doesn't count as real words." then winks once before closing the door.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1365|Robbie Reyes (1365)}} has posed:'''<br>The card's accepted between two fingers, and turned over so he can scan the back briefly. Then with a breath, it's slid into the back pocket of his jeans. "Might have to take you up on that," he murmurs low, when she dangles the promise of knowledge over his head. Knowledge about *her*, specifically. And it'd be a lie to claim that he isn't going to spend the rest of the night thinking about her.<br><br>Her parting words simply garner a nod in response. He seems focused again, closed off like when she first spotted him. No response to the wink; he simply watches her shut the door and head off.<br><br>And once she's safely inside, the Charger peels away from the curb and howls off into the night.<br> <br>
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