[Curious now, he shuts up, setting the comm down with a thunk. After a bit, he comes back to it, snatching it up with 'yeah, yeah, hang on... better be worth it...'
The telltale protest of a certain floorboard- so he's not taking the window shortcut at least.
A door closing. Footsteps down the stairs.
Tetsuo didn't just grab 'a' coat, he's got both hoodie and jacket as usual. It's still not quite enough in the 20 degrees that hits him as the door opens. You'd think Antarctica would make him a little better adjusted to this but nope.]
[Kaneda's at the sidewalk to meet him, hands shoved in his pockets, hunched over to keep out the cold. His jacket wasn't as big on him, more tight fitting and a fake leather instead of the real thing. It didn't keep as much out as his past one did, and it showed. But thankfully, he's got enough natural warmth, looking otherwise alright as he stands there.
Well--mostly alright. Upon closer inspection it shows Kaneda with a black eye, dark just under the bottom, and somewhat half closed. Blood from a split lip abruptly wiped off now smeared just to the side of his mouth, and redness around his neck area. Wherever Kaneda was, it certainly did a number on him. Which is saying something.]
About damn time. I was freezing out here.
[His legs start to move, a little limply as he sidesteps, leaving the sidewalk that was illuminated by the streetlamp exposed.
And there, sitting right there...
was a light blue motorcycle, more classic in appearance than the one Tetsuo owned previously, with some rounded edges and a more dynamic frame. It was new, no dents or scuffs...Kaneda had bought this, or at least stolen one from somewhere reputable. The paint job was sleek and shiny, never scratched, and the powder colour was a smidge darker than his old one.
[Tetsuo's attention is fixed initially on Kaneda himself, question fading out into confusion. Kaneda didn't get hurt. Not here.
He's even seen it happen before, and he still doesn't believe it. What the hell happened to him?
It's enough distraction that he doesn't seem to even suspect there's more to it at first. He starts down the steps slowly toward him - is he supposed to do something? What the hell is going on??? - only for Kaneda to move away.
That's when his mouth falls open.
No way.
The bikes they lifted were rarely in good starting condition. Sometimes ,sure - but more often than not they'd be the less flashy, less guarded ones. Anything easier to hotwire and less noticeable, usually older. This one looked like it could have come right off a lot... and not one of the lots around here. From what he's seen of the bikes around here, this one looks closer to a custom job. America's got some weird problem with good vehicles...
His eyes flick back to Kaneda, then to the bike. Tetsuo couldn't say when he started walking again, just that it takes little time for him to reach it.
He still doesn't care about bikes, he'd tell himself, hand reaching out to brush against frozen metal. He didn't take time to put on gloves, and the metal instantly chills his fingers, leaving a lingering thrill when he pulls his hand away. For a moment, he tenses, taking a half-step forward like he's about to sling himself right down into the seat, gripping cold handlebars and messing with it anyway, trying to work it out without the use of a manual... It's then that he hesitates, practically forcing his hand down and one foot back, looking back to Kaneda to try to establish if it's really okay.
The bike was brand new, checked by Kaneda himself (as well as he could, anyway), and it rode like a dream.
Tetsuo had always gotten what was 'borrowed' from someone else, whether it be clothes, toys, or an old bike that was on its last legs.
It was about time the boy got something brand new. Something no one else had--something he didn't have to hotwire and fix later. Something with a running engine and no leaks and no rattling speedometer. Working specs and built in rear view mirrors that didn't have to be bought separately. A bike that looked like it could turn. Not really Kaneda's style, but its wheels touched--a point he demanded to the dealer while he was looking around--and it was something that Tetsuo could mod to his liking. It practically screamed Tetsuo, and when he sees those dark eyes meet his, fingers jumping from the metal like he was caught doing something he shouldn't...
He gives one slow nod of his head, eyes closing as he does so.]
[No time is wasted getting into that seat. It feels new; there's no weird cracks in the leather, no caked-on smell of cigarette smoke, nothing like that. It still has resistance to the seat, not molded to years of wear and tear. His hands find the handlebars, ignoring the cold - that doesn't matter - leaning over until he's almost pressing his chest against the fuel tank, closely inspecting the windscreen as best he could in the streetlight. Not even a scratch on it - no bird residue, no dings from rocks - like it'd barely been driven. He couldn't really check the power on it without turning it on -
Wait. He can't be certain, but there's not even scratchmarks next to the key. The ignition cover looks firmly attached. Meaning... meaning there's no way in hell this can be what it almost looks like.]
[Kaneda can't help but smile. Tetsuo's wide eyed astonishment had always been one of his favourite things. He saw it the first time Tetsuo had seen a bike PERIOD. When Yamagata had lifted it from some old skeezy cardealer's lot. A good start for your own set of wheels.
But Tetsuo was beyond that now. He needed a real bike. One that he could call his own.
Elbows lean forward to rest on the windshield, looking over it at Tetsuo. Their faces were pretty close, enough for teh frosty mist escaping from his mouth to drift over.]
[Kaneda. Paid. For a bike? Kaneda paid for anything that wasn't food?? He'd get up if he wasn't busy reaching in past the casing to follow the spring forks as far as he could, identifying cables, figuring out wiring... as it is, all he does is pause to look up slowly.]
[More than he'll ever make, that's how much. How in THIS world would someone like Kaneda get that much...?
He fiddles around with the front more before getting out of the seat and crouching down, wishing he had a flashlight on him to get a good look at the exposed machinery where the casing cut off. This thing didn't quite have that new, flashy feeling that the one Pan - that the one he had before had, but somehow it felt more...
He's not sure what. It's not vivid, or jagged to look at. It's more put together as a solid piece, with a boxy look to it even though the curves were fluid. This thing didn't look like anything else out there - and if it did, it wouldn't by the time he was done with it. He wouldn't even have to alter the paint that much.
Uhhhhghh. There's not enough light to really get a look at this!! Why couldn't it hurry up and be sunrise already?! He wants to know everything about this thing, why.]
I-
[What to even say? It's a reminder of some piece of himself he'd forgotten was there at all. This one isn't even a stupid piece of deathtrap like Kaneda's is - it LOOKS like it turns easier. Maybe it could finally make those sharp turns he'd always struggle with on this thing; the front wheels turned free and the forks were a visible, sharp line all the way down.
He always did like them best when he could get a look at what was underneath everything.]
Who needs stuff like this if you can fly... [He says, getting back upright, walking around to see what he can inspect in this lighting. Weirdly... it was some of the birds who helped him acknowledge just how much he missed this, on a deeper level than he'd assumed. That while he didn't need wheels to fly like they did, it'd ignited his imagination all over again.] That's what I kept asking myself.
As if I could give it up!
[Aaand back into the seat again. Is it cold out here, who notices that, what's a little cold anyway IT'S A BIKE.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
voice;
[Kaneda gets to listen to varied noises of complaint and irritation, as well as rustling noises, a few thumps.]
...the hell is this about...
voice;
voice;
voice;
[He had to lean the phone away from his ear to check, hold on.]
Two.
Shit. It's two.
voice;
...
So if you stay out until two, it's fine.
[Does he take pettiness lessons, or is it a natural gift?]
voice;
Tetsuoooooooo.....
You're really gonna start this now?
voice;
Fine... what's going on?
voice;
And put on a damn coat, it's cold.
voice > action
The telltale protest of a certain floorboard- so he's not taking the window shortcut at least.
A door closing. Footsteps down the stairs.
Tetsuo didn't just grab 'a' coat, he's got both hoodie and jacket as usual. It's still not quite enough in the 20 degrees that hits him as the door opens. You'd think Antarctica would make him a little better adjusted to this but nope.]
What is--
action;
Well--mostly alright. Upon closer inspection it shows Kaneda with a black eye, dark just under the bottom, and somewhat half closed. Blood from a split lip abruptly wiped off now smeared just to the side of his mouth, and redness around his neck area. Wherever Kaneda was, it certainly did a number on him. Which is saying something.]
About damn time. I was freezing out here.
[His legs start to move, a little limply as he sidesteps, leaving the sidewalk that was illuminated by the streetlamp exposed.
And there, sitting right there...
was a light blue motorcycle, more classic in appearance than the one Tetsuo owned previously, with some rounded edges and a more dynamic frame. It was new, no dents or scuffs...Kaneda had bought this, or at least stolen one from somewhere reputable. The paint job was sleek and shiny, never scratched, and the powder colour was a smidge darker than his old one.
And the best part, it had wheels.]
You like it?
action;
He's even seen it happen before, and he still doesn't believe it. What the hell happened to him?
It's enough distraction that he doesn't seem to even suspect there's more to it at first. He starts down the steps slowly toward him - is he supposed to do something? What the hell is going on??? - only for Kaneda to move away.
That's when his mouth falls open.
No way.
The bikes they lifted were rarely in good starting condition. Sometimes ,sure - but more often than not they'd be the less flashy, less guarded ones. Anything easier to hotwire and less noticeable, usually older. This one looked like it could have come right off a lot... and not one of the lots around here. From what he's seen of the bikes around here, this one looks closer to a custom job. America's got some weird problem with good vehicles...
His eyes flick back to Kaneda, then to the bike. Tetsuo couldn't say when he started walking again, just that it takes little time for him to reach it.
He still doesn't care about bikes, he'd tell himself, hand reaching out to brush against frozen metal. He didn't take time to put on gloves, and the metal instantly chills his fingers, leaving a lingering thrill when he pulls his hand away. For a moment, he tenses, taking a half-step forward like he's about to sling himself right down into the seat, gripping cold handlebars and messing with it anyway, trying to work it out without the use of a manual... It's then that he hesitates, practically forcing his hand down and one foot back, looking back to Kaneda to try to establish if it's really okay.
He got his hopes up last time, and ...]
action;
The bike was brand new, checked by Kaneda himself (as well as he could, anyway), and it rode like a dream.
Tetsuo had always gotten what was 'borrowed' from someone else, whether it be clothes, toys, or an old bike that was on its last legs.
It was about time the boy got something brand new. Something no one else had--something he didn't have to hotwire and fix later. Something with a running engine and no leaks and no rattling speedometer. Working specs and built in rear view mirrors that didn't have to be bought separately. A bike that looked like it could turn. Not really Kaneda's style, but its wheels touched--a point he demanded to the dealer while he was looking around--and it was something that Tetsuo could mod to his liking. It practically screamed Tetsuo, and when he sees those dark eyes meet his, fingers jumping from the metal like he was caught doing something he shouldn't...
He gives one slow nod of his head, eyes closing as he does so.]
It's yours.
action;
Wait. He can't be certain, but there's not even scratchmarks next to the key. The ignition cover looks firmly attached. Meaning... meaning there's no way in hell this can be what it almost looks like.]
How'd you get it?
[It can't be magic, BUT......]
action;
[Kaneda can't help but smile. Tetsuo's wide eyed astonishment had always been one of his favourite things. He saw it the first time Tetsuo had seen a bike PERIOD. When Yamagata had lifted it from some old skeezy cardealer's lot. A good start for your own set of wheels.
But Tetsuo was beyond that now. He needed a real bike. One that he could call his own.
Elbows lean forward to rest on the windshield, looking over it at Tetsuo. Their faces were pretty close, enough for teh frosty mist escaping from his mouth to drift over.]
Money.
The cow and I pooled together for it.
action;
[Kaneda. Paid. For a bike? Kaneda paid for anything that wasn't food?? He'd get up if he wasn't busy reaching in past the casing to follow the spring forks as far as he could, identifying cables, figuring out wiring... as it is, all he does is pause to look up slowly.]
You serious??
action;
[Bikes are expensive when you're not stealing them. Who knew?]
But it's worth it. You needed a set of wheels, you know? You're not a biker without one.
action;
He fiddles around with the front more before getting out of the seat and crouching down, wishing he had a flashlight on him to get a good look at the exposed machinery where the casing cut off. This thing didn't quite have that new, flashy feeling that the one Pan - that the one he had before had, but somehow it felt more...
He's not sure what. It's not vivid, or jagged to look at. It's more put together as a solid piece, with a boxy look to it even though the curves were fluid. This thing didn't look like anything else out there - and if it did, it wouldn't by the time he was done with it. He wouldn't even have to alter the paint that much.
Uhhhhghh. There's not enough light to really get a look at this!! Why couldn't it hurry up and be sunrise already?! He wants to know everything about this thing, why.]
I-
[What to even say? It's a reminder of some piece of himself he'd forgotten was there at all. This one isn't even a stupid piece of deathtrap like Kaneda's is - it LOOKS like it turns easier. Maybe it could finally make those sharp turns he'd always struggle with on this thing; the front wheels turned free and the forks were a visible, sharp line all the way down.
He always did like them best when he could get a look at what was underneath everything.]
Who needs stuff like this if you can fly... [He says, getting back upright, walking around to see what he can inspect in this lighting. Weirdly... it was some of the birds who helped him acknowledge just how much he missed this, on a deeper level than he'd assumed. That while he didn't need wheels to fly like they did, it'd ignited his imagination all over again.] That's what I kept asking myself.
As if I could give it up!
[Aaand back into the seat again. Is it cold out here, who notices that, what's a little cold anyway IT'S A BIKE.]