New-fucking-York City. (Open!)
Posted: Thu Jun 13, 2013 6:14 pm New-fucking-York. In a sense, he supposed it was better than being stuck in dives out in Vegas or Los Angeles, but it still wasn't home. He'd done his gigs out in those whereabouts for years, always running after this or that, chasing the elusive Charles Nevarie down in attempt to end his wild and unamusing, sickening, ways. But the man was like the Wizard of Oz; stashed away and hidden like the man behind the curtain. Always watching, but never readily seen by those who attempted to take him out. The one occasion he'd gotten close enough to do so, his guardsmen - his lackeys - had apprehended him and left him unconscious and stripped of his pistols. That was fun..
But, New York. While it wasn't Ireland, he was figuratively invisible. Nobody knew his face; nobody knew his name. No one knew his profession, and what else could he ask for? Perhaps it would turn to be a blessing in disguise, though he highly doubted it. It might've been more enjoyable for the modern day cowboy, had he the same family he'd had just a few years ago. Funny how fate always jumps up to kick you down, face-first into the pavement, when you thought you were finally settling in on top of things. New York. Maybe it was a fresh start, until he had no choice but to flee back to his homeland. Which was just a matter of time; it was inevitable when you lived his kind of life.
The shipping and receiving of belongings went easily enough, and the last to arrive was undoubtedly his daughter. Walking hand-in-hand with a ginger-haired young man who had the grin of a charmer, but the mouth of a sailor. Once the three of them had made it out of the terminal, Kip - the red-head - went to give directions to the awaiting moving truck, and Dane took Lea's hand and lead her to the already-uncrated and waiting '97 Camaro. Deep Purple. It lived up to it's name. "Go on, buckle up," he said, with a tip of his chin as he opened the door and released her tiny hand. Lea did, indeed, climb into the back seat - into her booster - and pulled the seatbelt right across and fastened it before Dane had ever even pushed the seat back into place and dropped in behind the wheel.
Kip ventured back to the car himself, knocking on the trunk so it would be unlatched, before depositing a matte black case inside, along with three black duffle bags. Slamming it closed, he all but sped to the passenger side and slid in through the window. T-tops made it possible. Dane only shot a glance at him before firing up the engine that purred with purpose, and backed it right out of the parking space and shifted into first gear to get them headed in the right direction: the main street, of course.
It took hours, with numerous breaks to keep a three year old occupied, to unload the truck into the three bedroom house that would likely never, ever, become a home. All the boxes were put in the appropriate rooms, all the furniture placed just the same, before either Dane or Kip decided it was quittin' time. Lea had already crashed out on her gigantic, stuffed pink bear, and for once, he was undecided as to wake her or just let her sleep. It was a long flight, after all, and since the girl stayed with his mother usually.. it was, without a doubt, more excitement than she was used to. But, the hardwood floor wouldn't be comfortable for long-- and he'd likely wind up depositing her in her own room, onto the Disney Princess bed that wasn't at all the cheap plastic kind.
While the red-haired young man rambled in a thick Irish accent about the trip, Dane casually lit a cigarette and leaned his head back to rest against the back of the sectional sofa. Apparently, they were friends for other reasons, because Dane didn't open his mouth to reply.. didn't laugh or smirk.. he just listened, smoked, and contemplated other things that were quite out of view, yet. It was a habit. Whether or not he was sitting with company - friend or otherwise - he was always running things through his mind, in a sense, in order to get a better grasp on just what the usually-new job consisted of. This one? Didn't seem quick, but it did seem more like a stroll through the park.
Eventually, Kip shut up and moved to hoist Lea up into his arms before disappearing down the long, echoing hallway. Though the bed wasn't made, he put the little girl in it and snatched open a box to pull out a blanket to cover her with. Then? Like some sort of little housebitch, he went ahead with the unpacking of - at least - the little girl's room.
Dane? Dane was on the move. He'd pulled his jacket back on, patted at the sides to make sure everything was in place, then slipped out the front door without a sound. If he was going to get settled in and used to a city that was completely new to him.. the first steps were, well, walking the streets. His walk lead him around the square-like neighborhood, and further out to where the shops and stores were; the street vendors with food, the vagabond kings and queens shaking their tin cups for change..
And he stopped long enough to glance either way, up and down the street, before settling himself on a bench just out of the way of the hustle. Everyone had their quirks, right? He wasn't going into it blind. He wasn't going into it dumb. And you'd best believe by nightfall? He'd be scoping out the fire escapes, and vantage points that could be of use.
But, New York. While it wasn't Ireland, he was figuratively invisible. Nobody knew his face; nobody knew his name. No one knew his profession, and what else could he ask for? Perhaps it would turn to be a blessing in disguise, though he highly doubted it. It might've been more enjoyable for the modern day cowboy, had he the same family he'd had just a few years ago. Funny how fate always jumps up to kick you down, face-first into the pavement, when you thought you were finally settling in on top of things. New York. Maybe it was a fresh start, until he had no choice but to flee back to his homeland. Which was just a matter of time; it was inevitable when you lived his kind of life.
The shipping and receiving of belongings went easily enough, and the last to arrive was undoubtedly his daughter. Walking hand-in-hand with a ginger-haired young man who had the grin of a charmer, but the mouth of a sailor. Once the three of them had made it out of the terminal, Kip - the red-head - went to give directions to the awaiting moving truck, and Dane took Lea's hand and lead her to the already-uncrated and waiting '97 Camaro. Deep Purple. It lived up to it's name. "Go on, buckle up," he said, with a tip of his chin as he opened the door and released her tiny hand. Lea did, indeed, climb into the back seat - into her booster - and pulled the seatbelt right across and fastened it before Dane had ever even pushed the seat back into place and dropped in behind the wheel.
Kip ventured back to the car himself, knocking on the trunk so it would be unlatched, before depositing a matte black case inside, along with three black duffle bags. Slamming it closed, he all but sped to the passenger side and slid in through the window. T-tops made it possible. Dane only shot a glance at him before firing up the engine that purred with purpose, and backed it right out of the parking space and shifted into first gear to get them headed in the right direction: the main street, of course.
It took hours, with numerous breaks to keep a three year old occupied, to unload the truck into the three bedroom house that would likely never, ever, become a home. All the boxes were put in the appropriate rooms, all the furniture placed just the same, before either Dane or Kip decided it was quittin' time. Lea had already crashed out on her gigantic, stuffed pink bear, and for once, he was undecided as to wake her or just let her sleep. It was a long flight, after all, and since the girl stayed with his mother usually.. it was, without a doubt, more excitement than she was used to. But, the hardwood floor wouldn't be comfortable for long-- and he'd likely wind up depositing her in her own room, onto the Disney Princess bed that wasn't at all the cheap plastic kind.
While the red-haired young man rambled in a thick Irish accent about the trip, Dane casually lit a cigarette and leaned his head back to rest against the back of the sectional sofa. Apparently, they were friends for other reasons, because Dane didn't open his mouth to reply.. didn't laugh or smirk.. he just listened, smoked, and contemplated other things that were quite out of view, yet. It was a habit. Whether or not he was sitting with company - friend or otherwise - he was always running things through his mind, in a sense, in order to get a better grasp on just what the usually-new job consisted of. This one? Didn't seem quick, but it did seem more like a stroll through the park.
Eventually, Kip shut up and moved to hoist Lea up into his arms before disappearing down the long, echoing hallway. Though the bed wasn't made, he put the little girl in it and snatched open a box to pull out a blanket to cover her with. Then? Like some sort of little housebitch, he went ahead with the unpacking of - at least - the little girl's room.
Dane? Dane was on the move. He'd pulled his jacket back on, patted at the sides to make sure everything was in place, then slipped out the front door without a sound. If he was going to get settled in and used to a city that was completely new to him.. the first steps were, well, walking the streets. His walk lead him around the square-like neighborhood, and further out to where the shops and stores were; the street vendors with food, the vagabond kings and queens shaking their tin cups for change..
And he stopped long enough to glance either way, up and down the street, before settling himself on a bench just out of the way of the hustle. Everyone had their quirks, right? He wasn't going into it blind. He wasn't going into it dumb. And you'd best believe by nightfall? He'd be scoping out the fire escapes, and vantage points that could be of use.