closely | all of a sudden you're a hostage to things you thought you wanted

No... ( that's what four says. and he means it. but he rummages around in the back anyway, picking up a gun and eying it with...well, with his usual impossible to read look. but he does look at it. a very slight pinch to his brow suggests something but what that is even four doesn't know. some buried memory, or rather, removed. a doll. for amusement. for pleasure if that's what the buyer sought. for novelty. not for protection or defense. anything superfluous was scoured out of him.

or it was supposed to be.

there's a slight sigh.

dante broke him out with so little problem, but that makes sense to four because he was the guard. if the guard changed sides or his mind, then what was there to stop him? but being freed is confusing to four more than a relief or a happiness. add to that whatever drug they run through his system — something to do with memories, something to do with how once you start taking it, you can't stop or you'll die — incapacitates him in some ways, he's not the best partner to have on the run.

but he's also not the worst.

four doesn't have his seatbelt on, but he moves closer to the window, gun in hand, trying to then turn more to peer out the back view to see if they're being followed — probable, since four wasn't a cheap buy. he sighs again. )

It's yours. You can name it or not name it as you please.

( the way four's hands adjust on the gun, it looks familiar even if his mind can't catch up to what his muscle memory provides. so far he doesn't see anyone in pursuit, but that probably won't last. )

Why did you...

( he trails off. but it's pretty obvious: why did you take me with you?

what's the point?

his head hurts. vaguely it occurs to him also that he has no clothes, just the plain shift that the traders put all their merchandise into to keep things simple. annoying. )

Why did I name it that? Pretty simple, the A in Coyote-A stands for Ace.

[ Dante effortlessly evades the question Four can't bring himself to voice. He's glad, because he hardly wants to explain it, or even think about it. He just did it, didn't he? No point in pondering the implications, he's shallower then a dish of water, he is.

Dante doesn't even look back at Four again, just reaching up to adjust the mirror and focus on the car following them. Just one for now, but Dante is sure they might have sent another to cut them off further up ahead. That's what he would think to do!]

Like ace in the hole! Which is what you can be, if you could pretty please shoot the tires out from that great looking car when it gets close to us.

[ Four seems to be picking up the gist of a gun better then Dante ever dreamed (unfair really, he had to spend so much time as a wee kiddo fucking up his wrists till he understood the basics). ]

Oh and buckle up, dammit. If you go through the windshield, I'll cry.

( . . .

four, predictably, doesn't respond to dante's explanation, though he does think to himself: that was unnecessary. his hands don't go for the seatbelt at all despite dante's promise/threat to cry if four goes slingshotting out of the window. instead, he tentatively peers out only to dodge back in when, sure enough, shots are fired their way.

there's no sound from four, not a startled yell or even a yelp. even his expression hasn't changed yet, just a soft sigh. he settles for peering over the backseats through the window, waiting until he can tell the car is pulling up with them. )

I might miss.

( an unintentionally cocky warning, though it's only in words. his tone stays fairly deadpan as his body seems to fulfill what his hands did moments ago: remembering where four's mind can't. the angle he gets himself in through the window with the gun is optimal, and, it's four clean shots: two for the front, two for the back. it sends the car skidding angled back and harshly into the guardrail of the bridge they've just started.

nice if it were that easy, but the traders that picked four up aren't that small time.

in the distance, four can tell there's more in pursuit. offhand, he'd say... )

Three more. I think.

( it's five actually! but the other two aren't visible yet. four readjusts his hold on the gun and asks, not picking his timing well at all, )

...why did you take me with you?

Woaaah! Bullseye!!! Where did they get you, huh?

[ Dante takes both hands off the wheel and completely looks away from the road to look at the firey carnage. Coyote-A is a damn good gun, better after Dante dragged her over to some people that could put some real oomf in her, but taking a car down with that level of percision is not Dante's usual MO. Did they load up Four with military training during his...whatever had happened to him?]

Three? Fuck, seriously! You're going to need more bullets...did I pack the shotgun shells?

[ The backseat Four had been dumped into is a mess of old cardboard boxes and pizza containers with records jammed into them. Dante's sword is rattling around there somewhere, along with some crusty gemstone laden artifacts, a strawberry yogurt container and a few old books. Somewhere in that mess, there should be a few ammo containers. Dante wouldn't forget to grab those...probably. ]

Take you? [ Dante spins back around to look at the road. Maybe Four has spent enough time with him to see the nervous way Dante spins his hand around, fiddling with nothing as he chatters. ]

My brother showed up! He's got this whole plan, some tower thing one city over, he crashed my apartment! I have to go kick his ass, you know, win our dick measuring contest. I can't be babysitting you all day anymore.

Anyway, isn't slavery awful? We live in such a messed up world!

Mm. ( impossible to tell if that is a yes or a no or a maybe from four, but he begins rooting through the curious amalgamation of things in the backseat, pausing at the books before remembering to continue. he does find them, though his mind stops for a second: how?

that's when one of the three pursuers takes a shot. well. several. fortunately for dante and four, all of them miss, and perhaps more fortunately, the sound of being fired at flips the switch in four's muscle memory again, gun reloaded and no longer thought about. he remembers dante asking him a question but not what it was, distracted by his answer regarding his brother and the oddly casual statement on slavery. yes, four supposes it is fairly messed up.

the other three cars seem to have learned from their predecessor and don't get that much closer, which means four has to lean himself out of the window, justifying his lack of a seatbelt (?) )

I don't understand your motivation.

( four fires again, buried training and conditioning equalling a formidable sense of timing, aim, and other things. even at this angle, he nails the front left tire of one, which is enough to send 1/3 swerving.

sadly it doesn't hit any of the other cars, so they've still got a tail of minimum two — one of which takes another shot. this one's closer; grazes four's face. you wouldn't know it to look at him though. his expression doesn't change, only his eyes flickering as he briefly pulls back into the car, not to assess his own minor damage but to peer out through the back window again before moving to the other side of the car and running that window down instead. )

[ Four may not let out a sound when the bullet grazes him but Dante stiffens on the all to familiar smell of blood. There's not exactly time to stop and check the status of his passenger so Dante hooks the wheel behind his arm as he swears and digs around his coat for a pistol. The shots he sends back at the car approaching them are wild, Ebony lacks the power to really put a car out of business. They hit the passenger side windshield and the car slows long enough for Dante to shake his gun at Four. ]

You better not be playing risky, you idiot. [ Is he fretting? No way. Dante would never fret. ] I don't have time to bail you out! Geez...

[ Another round of shots from the other car makes him cut off his half-assed caring. The steering and gas both seem fine, Dante is keeping a pretty good speed but he's pretty sure one of the tires is loosing air. Better finish this fast.

Still, he can't stop being distracted by Four's questions, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel with a surplus of energy.]

Who are you, my brother? Do I need a freaking motivation? [ Four's words sting an unexpected nerve. It's not so different from what his brother said before he stabbed Dante right through the heart. What is Dante supposed to say, huh? My heart just said I should take you along. I felt bad. Bad things were going to happen to you, and I was playing along. You weren't paying attention, surely, but I blabbed all my secrets to you. You don't have anything, so its fine if I take you along ]

I just wanted too, man.

No. ( the answer comes toneless, because no, dante doesn't need a motivation. in a way, four is surprised at himself for even asking. it is enough that dante did it at all, more than four would have expected of anyone or thought himself worth of. he readjusts his position in the window, firing a couple more eerily acute shots. the other cars are recovered enough from dante's wild firing that they are again close enough or the people are loud enough that cursing and threats can be heard. predictably, four shows no feeling about this. )

Does the car go any faster?

( without feeling. without urgency. barely a question. four leans farther out of the window, lithe body allowing this with ease and some inexplicable flexibility and surprising core strength. he takes a shot that nails one tire, and then another, the second. it's all on the other car's right side, so it veers and half flips.

it's all pretty fast but long enough that when the remaining car's passengers take their own shots, one of them hits four again. four counts it as lucky because it goes right through, but there's the softest sound of pain as he retreats into the car. dante's hands are undoubtedly full with driving the getaway but if he does look back, he'll see four in a kind of trance, autopilot, tearing a strip of the hem of his long shift they'd kept the slaves in, using it to bind his upper arm tightly with what might be a stray popsicle stick or some other random piece of something. then he flexes the hand of the same arm and seems satisfied before picking the gun back up again.

sweat breaks out across his pale skin, which looks a little paler even than usual. but being task oriented is a strength and a weakness. only the smallest wince as he angles through the window again, though not leaning so far out anymore.

dante took him because...he wanted to?

why does that sentiment hurt?

or...is it scary?

four can't figure it out, but he knows a debt. he will repay it as best he can in aiding the getaway dante likely would not be stuck in if it weren't for four in the first place. )

My apologies, princess. We're pretty limited by the fact those bozo's just shot out our tire rim.

[ Dante's doing a pretty good job holding onto the wheel, but both of them can feel the lurch as the car is increasingly starting to drift without proper alignment. There's only so many bullets the car (and Four) can take before they just have to give up.

One car left, and the smell of blood in the car is really making Dante's skin prickle. He's never liked how it made him feel, a weird sensation between nausea and hunger. Man, he's not thinking about this. He's fucked up enough without analyzing if some part of him wants to eat his buddies.

He does look back, clicking his tongue with an uncharacteristically serious expression as he scans the remaining car and Four's state of injury. He gets the sense (and don't say Dante isn't half clever!), that Four is probably not putting his safety first in this little hoe down. He puts the gun down on the seat beside him as he leans over to roll down his window. ]

I'm getting real sick of this. Hey, Four- [ Keeping his foot on the gas, he leans back to wrap a hand around the back of Four's shirt. ] Let's blow this joint.

[ It's a good thing maybe, that Four didn't buckle up. It makes it loads easier for Dante to kick the door open in one smooth motion, dragging Four behind him. The car, left spinning by one last flick of the wheel, follows its own inertia to slam back into the rapidly approaching final car.

Dante himself takes the opportunity to do a flip before landing on the highway. ]

What —

( the startled noise from four is the most human sound he's ever made in front of dante, probably. he's light, enough so that the force with which dante yanks him forward and out of the car makes his head spin tenfold and not just from the flip. maybe some of the bloodloss catches up to him too, but he doesn't factor that in just yet. vaguely he's aware of their last pursuer going up in flames, which is convenient now that they too are without a car and four doesn't feel like he can run very fast if at all.

in fact, he's gone momentarily slack in dante's hold, trying to reorient himself with not much success, incredibly dizzy. his words come out softly even so, on the threshold of gasps. blood has completely soaked through the fabric he tied around his upper arm and between that and the gash across his face, the smell of it is overwhelming. the only thing that competes is the smoke from the fire. )

What...what now?

Jackpot! That's what I'm talking about!

I would love to say Dante has the thought to put his injured friend down on the street carefully, but he just sort of drops him. A bit of Four's blood has gotten on his hand, and he very empathetically tries to shake it off before he can do something embarrassing. ]

Well. [ Dante puts his hands on his hips as he surveys the wreckage before them. God, they are so cool. What a team! ] I guess it's either hitchhiking or we just walk? Unless...

[ Well Four is no longer trapped in a car. He could run off now, and Dante is pretty sure in all the chaos they've caused it would be pretty feasible to escape into the woods? No need to stick with Dante if he doesn't want to...

He opens his mouth to say something, maybe do the mature thing and tell Four to fuck off but his gaze rests on the car they were driving and he stiffens. ]

...Crap, my stuff! Hold on - I gotta do something! My sword was in there! [ And his guns, and his limited edition records! The wreckage of the car isn't far, but Dante seems unharried by the raging inferno, instead trying to stick his hand right into it and grab something. ]

( someone else might be offended or even amused. four just picks himself up off the ground, a minor struggle, seeming caught between going after dante and just staying where he is. he'd had the thought before dante broke him out, that dante was not necessarily the most sane of people he's met. but his choices being what they were, following him was easier at the time more than explaining how someone could be resigned to their fate as a slave, scoured clean of anything that was once actually theirs.

dante seems to have a lot of things. this is the thought that goes through his head, quickly overtaken by four's first show of some greater emotion: confusion.

though his memories are erased, it isn't just a keen eye and practical application four has for shooting; it's his body as well despite its lithe and deceptively slight frame.

even so, he does not stick his own hand into the fire, walking slowly until he's sort of a few feet behind dante, staring. )

...I didn't see any first aid kits in the back. Won't your hand burn?

( his tone is no different than usual, which might be comedic to a passerby if there were any. or it might be alarming. probably alarming. anyway, any kits are surely incinerated already. dante's sword must be made of stronger stuff obviously, though four isn't sure what else he's trying to salvage, ducking himself to the side a little as part of the rupturing car flies off and narrowly misses taking his head off. )

Oh, yeah. Sure it will.

[ A smoldering pizza box gets tossed backwards towards Four, and then Dante's other pistol, and a single book that survived the initial burn. The sword is deeper in, probably burning hot to the touch and Dante sighs as he leans back to shrug off his distinctive red coat. ]

You and I are probably a lot more similar then you wanna think, Mr. super soldier~ [ He waves a seemingly fine hand at Four with a grin. ] I dunno what lab they made you in, but my brother and I are tough as nails.

[ Anyway, back to fishing out the important stuff, like the gun Four was using (banged up but fine) and trying to shove himself into a fire to grab that sword. The car is collapsing in on itself, scratching and burning as Dante brute forces his way in. It's only when Dante's hands are barely touching the hilt of the sword that he hears a weak groan... ]

Damn it... [ He waves his free hand to get Four's attention. ] Hey Four! How do we feel about letting slavers die in car fires? I feel kinda bad?

( that's...surprising. but also a relief. four doesn't have any training in caring for burns that he can recall -- unless it would wake up inside him like a memoryless disease like wielding a gun. his mind swims back and forth over the question of where he was made, or rather, remade, but no answer is provided. not that he expected one to be anywhere in him, or that would defeat some of the purpose of his makers, he supposes. but even enhanced as he is, he isn't overly inclined to stick his own hand into the fire. so he stands out of the way as dante fishes through more things, careful to avoid any stray bits of blown off car and everything else. he ducks again as he answers, )

I don't feel bad. Are we saving them?

( he does not sound like he wants them to suffer either. it is simply that he does not care either way, after perusing his feelings it's difficult to say he feels at all, is the thing. like that was somehow conveniently removed from him too to make him a better merchandise. )

Well he could be like me, a poor ne'er-do-well. Couldn't help his shitty career choice - we've all been there.

[ He pulls the sword to where he can get it better later, and then gets the still living guy by the scruff as he starts to pull. ]

Or he could be a total shithead who kicks puppies and you and like a million babies, who's gonna ruin our day when he wakes up.

[ Dante pulls the somewhat living body from the car, turning to face Four again with his back to the flame. He worries his tongue over his teeth as he meets Four's eyes. ]

Do you really not give a shit at all? You were shooting at them, I kinda thought you might want revenge.

It seemed like the logical thing to do.

( ice cold in contrast with the fire, to be sure. he blinks, not even intending an iota of how unfeeling that must sound. the only slightly off thing about four, really, is how his breaths aren't as silent and therefore even as normal; injuries slowly taking a toll. not that he acknowledges them.

rather, he moves his gaze from the not-dead-yet body back to dante, confused. )

...anyway, I don't understand. Are you bringing him?

( as it seems just leaving him here even outside of the flaming car, will likely spell death without any assistance... )

all of a sudden you're a hostage to things you thought you wanted

PROBABLY but not like 4 was getting any better offers smh

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