Ian cussed under his breath, something colorful and distinctly Scottish-sounding. He dragged fiercely on a cigarette, smudging his thumb along the fresh set of abrasions at the opposite corner of his mouth. He was damn lucky his teeth still seemed anchored, that's for sure. Fucking Cole.
Stomping his way across the campground on his way back to Mac, the teen stops short, turning to peer into the gloom. Was that movement? The telltale glow of a cigarette? Hm. There shouldn't have been anybody over there just now, especially not this close to the boss man's bus. Strange. Quietly, he changed direction, heading over to investigate.
It wasn't long after stepping out of the camper that Dave was quietly checking himself over. Shirt straight, hair dry, clothes all on rightside out and proper. It wasn't until he was sure he was all in one piece did he slip fingers into his back pocket to find a cigarette and light it with the finger worn zippo. A snap of fingers and the lighter popped open and alight.
Apparently party tricks went hand in hand with street magic and he flipped the butt up into the air and caught it between teeth, just incase a certain marked man was watching through the window. Stupid tricks made him smile. Which caused Dave to smile. Until he heard something in the distance, a raccoon maybe and he pushed his glasses up his nose and shoved the zippo back into his pocket.
Ian could be super quiet when he wanted to be, and right now he wanted to be. He was almost on top of the figure in the shadow of the RV when he recognized him at last. "It's you." Brows furrowed instantly. "You were at the bar the other night. What are you, a Barlow spy?" There was gravel in his voice and fire in his expression. If he'd just caught a spy this close to Mac....
There was a jump when the kid spoke and in the time it took for him to speak the first words a hand was reaching for the revolver holstered at his back and it was drawn before a drag was taken and the embers lit the area between them. "Fuck kid, it's you." He sighed as if he almost made a mistake of some sort. Josh would have been fucking pissed if he wasted the kid on his front steps. "You know that's a goddamn good way to end up dead." Apparently MacIntosh Dave was a tad more crass than Barlow Dave.
Ian's face was passive when the gun was drawn, like maybe he wouldn't have minded if this dude just pulled the trigger. He was about to say something more when some pieces clicked together in his head --mostly the voice. "Hang on. I know that voice. You're the man inside, aintcha?"
"Yeah, boss needed briefing." He was able to say it without laughing and everything. They were amazing at this game, the pretending they were only friends, that there was nothing there, that they were chums at best, needing one another only in the sense where one hand would wash the other. "You are his new right hand yeah?" He was sizing him up. There was a bit of distaste for the man working so close to Mac, someone who got to watch his magic at all times, while he sat playing patty cake with the girl scout troop.
Stomping his way across the campground on his way back to Mac, the teen stops short, turning to peer into the gloom. Was that movement? The telltale glow of a cigarette? Hm. There shouldn't have been anybody over there just now, especially not this close to the boss man's bus. Strange. Quietly, he changed direction, heading over to investigate.
It wasn't long after stepping out of the camper that Dave was quietly checking himself over. Shirt straight, hair dry, clothes all on rightside out and proper. It wasn't until he was sure he was all in one piece did he slip fingers into his back pocket to find a cigarette and light it with the finger worn zippo. A snap of fingers and the lighter popped open and alight.
Apparently party tricks went hand in hand with street magic and he flipped the butt up into the air and caught it between teeth, just incase a certain marked man was watching through the window. Stupid tricks made him smile. Which caused Dave to smile. Until he heard something in the distance, a raccoon maybe and he pushed his glasses up his nose and shoved the zippo back into his pocket.
Ian could be super quiet when he wanted to be, and right now he wanted to be. He was almost on top of the figure in the shadow of the RV when he recognized him at last. "It's you." Brows furrowed instantly. "You were at the bar the other night. What are you, a Barlow spy?" There was gravel in his voice and fire in his expression. If he'd just caught a spy this close to Mac....
There was a jump when the kid spoke and in the time it took for him to speak the first words a hand was reaching for the revolver holstered at his back and it was drawn before a drag was taken and the embers lit the area between them. "Fuck kid, it's you." He sighed as if he almost made a mistake of some sort. Josh would have been fucking pissed if he wasted the kid on his front steps. "You know that's a goddamn good way to end up dead." Apparently MacIntosh Dave was a tad more crass than Barlow Dave.
Ian's face was passive when the gun was drawn, like maybe he wouldn't have minded if this dude just pulled the trigger. He was about to say something more when some pieces clicked together in his head --mostly the voice. "Hang on. I know that voice. You're the man inside, aintcha?"
"Yeah, boss needed briefing." He was able to say it without laughing and everything. They were amazing at this game, the pretending they were only friends, that there was nothing there, that they were chums at best, needing one another only in the sense where one hand would wash the other. "You are his new right hand yeah?" He was sizing him up. There was a bit of distaste for the man working so close to Mac, someone who got to watch his magic at all times, while he sat playing patty cake with the girl scout troop.