Owner	Pose
Riley Black	Truthfully she had planned on taking care of things by herself, had almost looked forward to the lazy down from New Windsor. The ancient shop truck was hardly what most would consider comfortable, but well Riley never minded the worn out bench seat or the drone of that big block as it slipped down the freeway and into Gotham. A few glances at a post it she'd scribbled on was all it took to her credit, before she whips the ancient Pickup around and backs it and it's trailer into a parking spot directly adjacent a pair of burned out hulks.     "You know you don't have to be here for all this, it might take awhile and this could be nothing."She offers casually as she produces her pistol from beneath the seat, holstering it up in the small of her back ever so casually. She slips down from the cab, pausing to take a look around before lighting her first cowboy killer since she set off. Turns out smoking in the car simply isn't done, even for her.
Daimon Hellstrom	Daimon allowed a dull smile to emerge slowly from his features, eyes heavily lidded to her objections. He slid out of the car and stood erect, then canted back into the body of the cab and folded his arms across his chest. His eyes tracked across the way, looking where she'd taken interest. "Pretend like I'm not even here." offered the Son of Satan from his rakish lean.
Riley Black	That gets a dubious look from Riley, but she relents with a slow exhale of that cigarette smoke as she takes off. Casually shaking a cigarette free and offering it towards Daimon, should he fancy one for himself. Into the building past prominent "No smoking" signs and into a lobby, lit only by a trio of blinking incandescents snuggled up to the ceiling amongst asbestoes which comes down every time the door is swung open. The Guard in the security office, hidden behind hundreds of pounds worth of yellowing safety glass starts to say something before she slips a folded Benjamin through the slot and he simply buzzes them into the yawning darkness beyond.     A moment's pause for her eyes to adjust, before the overhead lights sputter and blink to life never the less. Revealed is a parking lot, full of overflow evidence vehicles, tons of decaying commercial vehicles in various state of repair whilst others are pitifully hidden beneath tarps and piles of junk. "Last time I was here some jackass got stabbed super hard just over the South fence there, wouldn't stop screaming the whole fucking time. Like a god damned Banshee I swear, didn't even have the dignity to shut the fuck up when people were trying to get shit done."
Daimon Hellstrom	Diamon admitted blandly, "Well you know not everyone likes non-consensual penetration, Riley." but his eyes where already orange starbursts of radiating light, astrally perceiving the area and the object of his interest. "Oh its here, and if its not, something just as good." Cryptic, but a good sign from the Prince and his ever improving mood.
Riley Black	@emit     From beneath a blue tarp it emerges, chrome dulled and yellowed, "Lace White" paint gone manilla ages ago. Still it endures and in remarkable condition, not a visible spot of rust at least. Every pane of glass intact, though the tires have long since dryrot flat and the suspension's partially collapsed leading the car to dip one front fender nearly to the ancient blacktop. That only makes the roughly softball sized dents along the leading edge of the hood all the more apparent, same for the busted headlight and a single long scratch which runs down the driver side.     Riley slowly lifts her shades free, simply looking at the thing before slowly nodding. "Wow, ok. Lincoln Continental, Fourth gen so we're talking Sixties. Not a factory color combination, so this was made for somebody special."Pulling the tarp free completely, before chaining up another smoke. Tennesee Plates, she points out idly. "Old girl hasn't been registered since 68', fuck me."
Daimon Hellstrom	"I assume all that conveyed some form of value." he mocked gently, he had some idea what she was talking about but in this case Diamon needed to seem fatuous about it. He touched the car and let his hand run across its dirty surface, collecting grey on his finger tips. "Unfortunately, some aspect of the interior has to be saved." he offered to Riley in the form of strict instructions. "Thats where the blood is I bet. Soaked into the carpets good. We need a creative solution. It cant smell or look like someone was murdered in there." He stepped back and crossed his arms, "Thoughts?"
Riley Black	"I'm not sure, we may need to tear her down to the frame rails."A moment spent futzing with the passenger side window, before she lifts it gently out of track and lets it smoothly down into the door. "But yes it means something, Lincoln didn't do custom color combinations like this usually."Pausing to reach across to pop open the driver side door for Daimon. Inside the interior is musty, and well the headliner is threatening to fall apart completely and the leather seats have cracked to lay bare the fabric underlining. The Cherry red interior remains in the footwells at least, but the interior is indeed rough.     A tug on the glove box pulls free the entire door, spilling documents out into Riley's lap as well as what looks like a coin purse. "Oh fuck, I know who's fucking car this was."Offering over a endorsed insurance card bearing the owner's name. "Rev John J Shyne".
Daimon Hellstrom	Daimon Hellstrom lifted a single severe eyebrow, glancing to Riley and then back to the car with a bit more reverence. "That...explained alot." he said tersely. "How many souls on this ledger." he said parenthetically, not requiring an answer. "How much betrayal of trust and covenant in that back seat." he admired. There was a long pause as he surveyed. "That'll do, Pig. That'll do." invoking James Cromwell if only breifly.
Riley Black	"So custom all around, hood release is by your knee there and trunk is under the seat."She flips open the coin purse curiously, before offering what used to be somebody's little drug kit over. "I'm gonna need to get it up on the lift back at the shop, but I mean I don't see any buckling in the roof and the car doors both open and shut smoothly so I reckon the frame rails are Okidoke."Grunting as she drags herself back upright, to restart that cigarette with a humm. "I was in Cali when all that nonsense went down, had a girlfriend with a white Lincoln and no shit she got stopped -constantly- by cops. People looked for this thing absolutely everywhere for decades, and it was sitting over in Gotham under a fucking blue tarp."
Daimon Hellstrom	Diamon took the works kit and glanced at it briefly before decomposing it in his hand, reducing it to some kind of pure purple essence and then absorbing it into his skin. Things like this had power sometimes, the way people depended on them, the way they worried when they couldnt find them; he could harvest that and use it. "Do they make tarps in any other color?" he offered rhetorically.
Riley Black	"So we doing this, like is this the one?"She offers as she lifts the hood with a low groan and a creak, surveying the damage to the radiator for a moment before giving a little nod. "You know if you wanted something faster, I know where we can find a pretty clean Stingray Corvette. I mean pedigree is radical and all, but this tub ain't gonna be very quick by modern standards. Comfortable, quiet, built like a brick shit house sure but not fast."
Daimon Hellstrom	"We're not robbing banks Riley." he admonished. "What I wanted was something I can call the damned into when I'm on the go." he rubbed his palms on the side of the car until his abdomin touched it, a loving embrace almost. "And this thing is just cursed enough to be a mobile meeting room. Imagine the effeciency of it, this thing could save us countless trips below. You think Cassiel has anything like this? No, fuck no. He wants to talk to his boss its Beatitudes abd Belfries." he smirked, "This is mainline, this is Ok Google. This is exactly what I need."
Riley Black	"Well figure out what color you want it painted, and what color you want the interior and shit."Circling around to lift the trunk, and a pause giving a snort and leaning over to glance over after Daimon. "Boss you got to remember, I ain't got that juice. I can't feel the current like you, or one of the Fallen can. I'm happy to play along so you can get whatever juju you need to get out of this, but I'm flying blind on my side boss."And a pause as she digs about in a pile of empty bottles before finally sourcing a heavy ceramic jug and pulling it free. "Goodness looks like the Innocent Reverend had his water turned to moonshine, it's a miracle I reckon."
Daimon Hellstrom	"Black on black." he said, as if to follow with 'Of course' without actually saying it. "The real miracle of this chariot is yet to come, all its erstwhile history to this point is just playbill text." and finally, "Make this thing nice, deny it nothing."
Riley Black	"I can't rush this if you want this to be actually nice, and you're gonna need to remember this is a Lincoln Continental. Heaviest car Ford ever made, heavier than just about any passenger car on the roads. Its hard on tires and brakes, and no matter how slow you drive it the entire drivetrain is moving around something more than twice what a normal car weighs. Its going to have to be pampered, and it deserves to be. Old girl survived an abusive owner, and she's been abandoned here and forgotten."Rilley takes a step back, chaining up her smokes.     "I know you see a Mouse trap and see free cheese and a fucking challenge, but I'm not fooling you chief. Spoil her and she'll give you decades of stalwart service, maybe even a century. If you don't pamper her though, Cars like this have memories. They hold grudges, and they extract their payment when you need them the most. This goes beyond whatever hillbilly hotrod shit I can square up here, she will demand -sacrifice- of time and attention."just like her own pet car, which thankfully wasn't here for this.
Daimon Hellstrom	Daimon Hellstrom scoffed, "My visits to this car will be rare, she'll anticipate them like the desert aches for rain. The day to day will be your purview. Practice what you preach, hellspawn, and keep this thing tip top for when I need it." he posed thoughtfully, "I'm not entering into a relationship with this machine, you are. Any lack of consideration she feels necessary to punish will be on your shoulders." he glanced away breifly distracted by some distant notion. Then to Riley, "Congratulations on your nuptuals, I am sure the girl in California will be devastated."
Riley Black	"Don't apologize to me chief, you haven't met my Torino."She offers curtly, before flicking a cigarette away. "I'll get it stripped by the end of the week, let you know if I find any other interesting baubles. I will need help procuring the paperwork, but I imagine you can handle that side of things."Pushing the trunk shut, and giving the car one final long look over. "I'll go grab the truck and get us loaded up, but uh have a moment alone with her."Riley gives a lazy shrug finally, as she backs slowly away before turning on a heel and heading for the loading door. "Oh and theres this fucking radical place with vanilla shakes on the way back from the shop, best ten dollar shake I've had in years..."