Where: North Las Vegas
When: May 20, 2012;5:30 PM
What: Tilly plays witness when Rylie and Jake run into each other.
Today, is a special day. The kind of day that the company sends memo's round to it's Advanced members who will be in the affected area. The memo that Tilly is reading on her blackberry as she's strolling along the street with one hand, a bag of something greasy and likely laden with calories pinned the flesh of her palm and fingers while the knuckle, forefinger and thumb hold onto the extremely large hot, double whipped something.
"You're shitting me. Today?" She mutters to herself, eyes hidden behind aviators, jeans, flat boots, red shirt and leather jacket. Gun and badge in view of pretty much anyone. "You think we'd get a little more warning" And with that mutter, the blackberry is being shoved back in it's holder and the blonde stops at her Camaro so she can settle down her drink and dive into the bag.
"Come here you sweet thing. You must be so scared in this bag. So alone. Don't you worry, it'll be over soon" She croons to the chili and cheese smothered fries that she pries forth from it. "Tilly's going to take care of you" This, is her mid afternoon second snack.
Jake isn't in as much a good mood. In fact, the man seems to be more-or-less distracted as he double-times it down the sidewalk, a grocery bag in his hand. Surrounded by tourists and businessmen on this sunny Sunday afternoon, the man in the t-shirt and jeans with a baseball cap shielding his face from the sun seems out of place. Wiping his hand over the back of his neck to brush away the sweat, he glances at his watch as he passes by Tilly, leaning against her car, cursing loudly.
"Watch your mouth, there's children" Tilly pipes up, a gesture to a mother and a stroller. A baby inside sleeping sounds and a three year old - one thinks - walking with her hand grasping her mothers pocket. She's looking up at Jake with round brown eyes. Tilly just looks at Jake, as if daring him to tell her off. Second lunch, and entertainment. "Little kids. THey're like sponges you know. So clean up your mouth"
Jake double-takes at Tilly, the glazed look in his eyes suggesting distraction as he slows for just a moment. Glancing down at the little girl, wide eyes turned up at the big man saying so many /interesting/ words, Jake's ears turn a quick shade of red. "Sorry," he mutters loudly, giving the little girl a tight smile and a glance to Tilly. "Um…dang?"
"Better be sorry. People use swear words too much these days. They forget their manners" Tilly picks at a kidney bean stuck between her teeth with her tongue, looking away from the construction worker and to the window of her Camaro. Oh. OH. "Well, it's happening."
The eclipse that is. THe sun having started to set with the promise of night not that far off. The very corner of it disappearing and leaving darkness. Not that Tilly's actually looking at it. She's just using the reflection of her car's windshield. "Ever seen an eclipse there buddy?"
Jake's sheepish look turns to a baffled frown as he gets a lecture from some random woman on the street. Da fuq? "Sorry?" he offers, before noticing her bag, and he blanches. "…officer. Sorry officer. Eclipse? No, never seen one. Bye!" And away he goes quickly, getting away from the policewoman before she decides to arrest him for corruption of a minor or something.
But now that she's pointed it out, he turns his head awkwardly to the side, squinting at the sun in the far-off horizon. Huh. So it /is/ happening. Jake even smiles, enjoying this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity as his feet carry him blindly out into the street towards where his car is parked on the other side.
It's an odd feeling, as the moon comes to lay over the sun, ringing the dark circle in orange fire; most people just see it as this beautiful phenomenon, but for the Advanced, it's something else entirely. Something missing, an emptiness sets over them as they find their abilities beyond them. Normal again.
And it is very unfortunate when one is behind the wheel when such things happen. Rylie speeds along down the street when she feels that draining, and it distracts her just long enough to not catch Jake stepping out into the street. When she does see him, it's like he's suddenly there, and she has only enough time to slam on the brakes. She starts to try to swerve, but not fast enough and her car runs right into him. And then she manages to stop. Go figure.
It isn't until he hears the screeching of tires that Jake snaps out of his oblivious fugue. His head whips around, and Rylie gets the perfect view of his shocked, wide-eyed face before the grill of her lovely pontiac clips him right in the thighs. His legs fly out from under him, and his upper body slams against the hood, rolling off as she screeches to a stop. His shoulder clips the passenger side side-view mirror, snapping it clean off as he tumbles to the ground, stunned.
There's just a roll of eyes at Jakes antics, familiar ones by those who spot the badge and then think twice about mouthing off. It has it's perks. She just turns, looking to the reflection and watching as it slides so neatly into place and with that, her own ability, it's ever present feeling in her body washes away too.
The screech of tires and thunk of a body againts a car though, tears her away from the reflection and gazing over to the accident that has just occurred. "Well fuck me. "
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," Rylie says mostly to herself as she puts her car in park and climbs over to the passenger seat to look over at him. "Oh my god, are you okay? Are you alive? I'm so sorry, I didn't see you!" Her hand grabs for her phone, so she can dial out three quick numbers.
"I'll get an ambulance. Oh jesus." Lots of praying happening, or someone who isn't particularly religious.
Canned food, bread, milk, eggs and a six pack of beer are spilled out on the asphalt. A few of the eggs have spilled out and smashed on the road. One of the cans of Bud has sprung a leak, and is spraying its pungent brown liquid on the side of Rylie's car.
Jake lays on his back, stunned, mouth open but not breathing for a moment. He blinks, staring at the sky for a moment…before he gets his breath back, and sucks in a lungful. "… ow. Oh fucking donkey tits, /ow/." Screw the she-cop, he is gonna swear as much as she wants now.
When Rylie peeks over the side again, he forces a wincing smile, waving a hand at her as the shock of the hit starts to wear off. "No… no, it's alright. I'm okay. Really."
"Bullshit you're okay" Tilly's smothered fries are abandoned - DOn't worry baby, it won't be long. Maybe. Possibly - and she's coming around her own car, 9-1-1 dialed and ringing. "Don't you god damned move. You don't know what might have broken" THat he's talking is a good thing and the US Marshal is kneeling down. "Hey, yeah, I got an auto versus pedestrian" Rattling off the cross streets as she looks over Jason. "Hey, lady" This to Rylie. "You okay too?" Because sometimes, people in the car do get hurt. It's only after she realizes who it is, that she blinks. "Yeah, yeah, no. We need just one, I think."
It isn't that Rylie's ignoring Jake, per se, she's just not listening to him. Her gaze travels to Tilly when she shows up, and while recognition dawns, she's a little too off balance to answer intelligently. She's physically fine, maybe a little whiplash, but instead of saying so, she holds her phone away from her ear and starts to sob a little.
"I'm on hold," she says, as if that were the thing upsetting her, instead of being one in a line of things.
"No," Jake croaks, trying to sit up as Tilly comes around and gives him orders, "Really, I'm fine, I just—-NNGAH!" Clutching at his side, Jake's curls up briefly in pain and goes back down onto his back. His vision swims and he's staring up at the sky again, panting shallowly with a whole new flavor of shock on his face. "No fuckin' way…" he mutters, probing gently at his ribs, wincing a little with each press. Though each press also has him smiling a little bit more.
A quick look at Jake shows that even beside his ribs, he's not exactly in mint condition: Road rash on his bare forearms is oozing a little blood, there's a gash on his forehead where he hit the pavement that's trickling over his temple, and there's a fairly deep cut in his shoulder through his t-shirt where the broken end of the sideview mirror's stand cut him as he went down.
Oh hey, that mirror is laying right by his left arm, the mirror itself still intact.
As Rylie starts to sob, the smiling Jake's eyes focuses on her, and his heavy brows furrow. "Hey hey, no… s'not yer fault. It's okay, I'm gonna be…I'm gonna be totally fine…" Judging by the size of his smile, he's an inch away from doing cartwheels.
"Listen, listen, calm down okay. Sit down. Don't move, either of you okay? CHrist, shit happens okay. Bozo here looking at the sun, you were probably looking at the sun and the sun is doing some creepy shit today okay" It is, as the whole of the city seems to have in the last thirty seconds been seen to have slipped behind some shades, the light taking on a different mellower quality.
When Jake lets out that sound of pain, Rylie sobs a little more hysterically, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. But when he's not dead just after, and between him and Tilly, she manages to calm down a little.
And since Tilly got through, she hangs up her phone and sits back in the passenger seat. But she isn't still. No, she pulls out a small notebook to scribble in it before tearing the page out. "My dad's a doctor," she says to Jake, "After the ER, he can have a look over. No charge, I swear." She'll talk her dad into that later.
Jake blinks up at Tilly, half paying attention to what she's saying, and looking like he got some kind of drug high by being hit from the car. Maybe a weird concussion? "Yeah, sure. Not gonna move," he mumbles. He does reach up to touch the blood coming from his head, eyeing the red on his fingers…before he starts to laugh. "Ha ha haowha ha ha—ow…" Wincing between laughs, one hand still to his side, he grins up at Rylie. "Really? That's…that's great, really. That's…thank you." He reaches a hand up towards the paper, trying to snag it between two fingers. "Shouldn't be too bad," he says, still laid out on the pavement.
Her dads a doctor, he's someone in need of a little doctorly attention. How sweet. Tilly looks up towards the sky, at the sun for a brief second through her shades then back down, to the pair of them. Tempted she may be, the sun is fucking with that capability. "Yeah yeah casanova. Ambulance will be here soon enough" Even as others crane to get a peek at what's happened, and others move in to offer help.
"Yeah, really," Rylie says as she hands the paper over. But she looks worriedly up at Tilly, "Is he okay?" Hit on the head too hard. Giggling. This isn't how wounded people act on TV.
"You must have a sixth sense. Showing up where I get into trouble," she adds to the other woman before sitting back in her seat and tapping out a text or two into her phone. Someone to come drive her home, likely.
"Huh? No, I've gotta girlfriend," Jake says, looking up at Tilly in confusion. "I'm not Casanova." The people crowding around get to see a bloody guy laying on his back raise a hand and wave it about in a vague "go away" gesture. "I'M O—ow, I'm okay. S'aright, just waiting for my ride to get here." The yelling doesn't do so well with a cracked rib.
When the two girls talk, Jake's eyes flick between the two of them. "You know each other? Heh, thass the magic of Vegas, isn't it?"
"Yeah. we've crossed paths. Nothing to be afraid of" Not in an I'm going to arrest you capacity. The wail and whine of an ambulance and police coming has Tilly rising from her crouch. "Stay here, I'll get em through" Leaving the two of them to talk. With luck, there won't be lawsuits. With luck.
"She's come to the rescue before," Rylie says, although it's hard to tell if she means that literally or figuratively. When the woman goes to do official business, Rylie watches her for a second before she hops out of her car to come sit next to Jake. She doesn't even seem to mind her designer jeans getting dirty.
"Do you want me to call her? Your girlfriend, I mean." She asks while she waves off the onlookers, playing a very unlikely bodyguard.
As Rylie takes a seat beside him, Jake's eyes do a once-over of her before he gives her a small smile. Even when he's injured on the asphalt, he's still a guy with a mind for pretty girls. "Uhhhh…crap…yeah, probably should call her," he says, unenthusiastically. His hand goes down to his hip pocket, and he awkwardly gropes his phone out. Only to see a huge crack up the screen, and not-so-happy colors in the broken LCD beneath. He groans, "Oh well, /that/ just fucking figures," he closes his eyes, and chucks his phone away in frustration, sending it skittering under a nearby parked car. "Yeah, could you? Long as you're not late for nothing."
Rylie winces at the state of his phone, and mouths a quick sorry. But she brandishes her phone, pulling up the dial pad and all. "It's Sunday, we're supposed to be late for everything." She passes the phone over, apparently thinking it might be better if calls instead of her. Possibly because of that lackluster tone.
"You working on Sunday?" Jake says, peering at her phone and taking a moment before getting the phone number hammered in. "Man, I'd hate to have your job. Uh…no offense meant, or anything." He's about to put the phone to his ear, but stops…and wipes some blood off onto the shoulder of his t-shirt before hovering it a half-inch away from his head.
"I was going to get some paperwork squared away, but now I think I'll take the night off and have a martini or… six instead," Rylie says with a dry laugh. "But I think most people would hate to have my job, frankly." It does fill the hours, though.
"Now /that/ is what Sunday nights are supposed to be for," Jake says with a quick grin. Just ignore that he was doing grocery shopping, himself. "Count me as one of them. I can't stand paperwo— Laura?" He stops midsentence, head turning towards the phone. "It's Jake. I— no, yeah, I know… No this is someone else's phone. Look— I dunno a girl." He gives her apologetic look for that. "She— what? NO!" Jake pulls the phone away from his ear, giving it an offended look. "Laura, no… No, we've been over this. I'm not… Laura can you just listen for a moment…" He sighs, laying head back and phone falling away from his ear, giving off a tinny tirade of yelling from the other end.
Rylie lifts an eyebrow as the yelling comes over the speaker and she blinks. When he lays back, though, she picks up the phone, cutting the tirade off as she cuts in firmly. For all that she was sobbing a moment ago, she does a good impression of authority.
"Laura? This is Officer Bradley. We thought it vital to let you know he's been involved in an accident. His injuries are significant, but not life threatening. An ambulance is on the way, we'll be in touch when we know which hospital he's admitted to, if you would come and assist in getting him home. Thank you."
And she hangs up without giving her the chance to reply. "You must have a lot of patience."
Jake's head jerks up when Rylie grabs the phone, and he stares at her like she'd snatched up a live viper with her bare hands when she talks into the phone. And he's looking at her like she's a goddamned hero when she hangs up. "… ah, well. She's easier to deal with when she hasn't had a bad day. You are GOOD at that officer thing. Are you in—" He's interrupted as Rylie's phone starts ringing again, and he glances at it, and frowns. "Her again." Should he answer it again or no…?
"I work in the Mayor's office," she says, even as the phone starts ringing. It's an explanation, of sorts, but she does pass the phone back to him to answer this time. "If you want it." The ambulances are making their way toward them, but hey, the sirens only serve to help his side of the story, right? Right?
Jake stares at the phone for a bit longer, biting his bottom lip. Conflicted. He taps the red button, and it goes silent, handing it back to her. "Sorry…you're probably gonna get a lot of voicemails."
It's probably a good thing he didn't answer, because the paramedics are just now arriving and swarming around Jake, one of them trying to usher Rylie aside and check her for wounds as well.
"Hey!" Jake calls, trying to raise his voice without raising his chest, "What's your name?"
"Don't worry, I can handle harassing voicemails." She's got connections, after all. When the paramedics arrive, Rylie gets up to her feet as they start to look her over. She's chattering with them about which hospital to take him to, dropping some names that are pretty convincing, apparently, but when he calls out to her, she pauses to turn and look his way.
"It's Rylie." She winks in his direction, a sort of wry expression about her, but it's the last thing he sees before they get him up onto a stretcher and cart him off toward the ambulance.
"I'm Jake!" he calls back, before he's hauled up into the ambulance, still grinning like crazy at her, even as he's being bandaged up. On cloud nine, for some reason. Perhaps he hasn't yet remembered he doesn't have health insurance.
