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(The second part to our wovable roleplay!!! 4laugh )
It beings four years after my late book.
I am man now, at twenty years old I finally adopted the masculine face, voice, and body. I couldn't be prouder, really, I've always wanted to be a man, and that time came. However, what else has come through the years? Here I lay, the same lumpy, stained twin mattress, sharing it with the same Ranger, or I wished. Looking at the monster sized man beside me, his even bigger arms, chest, abs, ex centre.
Ranger has been working out as usual, only difference is me joining him. He looks more of a man than me, but I can't complain to my better toned torso, and thicker arms, and he seems pretty content on how he looks. Panzer on the other hand has completely cooled down, the fifty-something year old is now laid back, and relaxed as ever, I can almost say I miss our fights, and arguments. As for Sienna? The red head, thin, and silent mother of mine remains just that. Suddenly, hearing a yawn besides me, I hadn't noticed Ranger was still asleep.
Feeling the heavy weight of his arm over my shoulder, and the all too familiar morning breath reached my nostrils. Ranger and I are closer than before, making the man my everything. I don't mean for it to sound so cheesy, but the truth. His scruffy chin was against my bare collar bone, I kept my eyes trained on the ceiling. Normally, I would already be up, and out of his reach, but today was different. We had our job to attend to, and I felt nervous as always. What may our job be you ask?
I like to think of ourselves as 'Civil Engineers for hire', meaning just that; blowing up things for money. I know what your thinking, but were not terrorists, usually the guys who own the place have it gone up in smoke, or no bombs at all, maybe rivaling rich families want another's mansion banged up pretty well? It's amazing what rich guys do to each other with money. Either way, we had to get up, being late was not an opinion. Looking back to Ranger, I shrugged him off me, and stood up. "C'mon, go shave the mold off your face. We have work to do." I muttered to him. Ranger made some sound of protest, but never less I heard him drag himself to the bathroom.
I don't know why he insists to let it grow, seeming I always make him shave it off. I can't stand facial hair, it just isn't any good, besides we have some fancy pants casino to blow, and a bearded bum in a suit looks kinda suspicious, right? Not that I call all the shots, though I make the bombs, pick the locks, and watch it go boom. Before I knew it, we were in the living room, and Ranger pulled out his trusty, banged up laptop, and begun to try and explain to me our exact job. I made him repeat himself three times over before I grasped the jist of it. What I understood through my thick head was we break into the casino, (Meaning I break into the casino.) get to the top of the elevator, plant my keenly made bombs hook them up, and watch it all go up in smoke from afar in a fancy pants suite with a glass of French wine.
I also understood we get paid extra big bucks, for the place is not small, maybe like six stories or somethin' like that. Either way, I pretended I got it all down pack, (not like I'm not going to make him say it again, and again on the drive there.) we then had our daily argument of breakfast, in our case; coffee. The argument consists of Ranger demanding I made him his cup of joe, and me countering that he does. Not that it matters if one of us gets up for ten seconds off our rears to make black juice, (as I call it.) but it was more of a dominance role, if you must, to make each other do our bidding's. Sadly, I found myself mixing two cups of coffee.
I begun to like the black stuff after having to eat at the same diner every day for breakfast, and dinner where Panzer's and Ranger's usual drink is coffee. We only eat there since no one in this house can cook, or want to. The only one who can cook is me, but after being teased about my ability to cook and clean, I gave it up. Either way, content with his breakfast, Ranger got in the car, while I stored the bomb stuffed in a suit case into the trunk. While we drove, I had Ranger recite our job ten times over. The plan sounded like he had been watching too many action movies.
Never less, I grasped it by the time we drove up to the casino. The casino, however was massive we had done some big jobs, but this was by far was the biggest. The nervousness that woke with me this morning racked through me now. Though, a familiar hand gripped by shoulder, calming me instantly with his firm hold. It has been six years since we've known each other, loved each other. Anyhow, I had to calm myself to do the job correctly, a lot of money was at stake, and our lives.
(The plan, kiddies)-
The was casino was closed, so no innocent people died, to my knowledge anyhow. Picking the first lock was simple enough for me, seeming I put down the guitar pick one day and picked up a lock pick instead, using my long fingers for something useful for once. I have found out my strange talents to pick locks, and make bombs before we started the our 'business'. I woke up from my daydreaming when Ranger snapped me back to reality with a stern jab in the ribs. Skipping the flights of stairs, and other minor tasks like that, I found myself picking another lock for Ranger.
Knelt in front of the door, my fingers twirled, and jabbed with the pick in the lock. I concentrated soully on my work, I've always have. Ranger could have been shot for all I knew, and I would not be the slightest distracted. Panzer had taught us this when we were younger, for all it's worth, I think it's the most useful thing he ever taught us. The door swung open without a hitch. Looking back to Ranger, he seemed to be smiling, was he admiring my work?
I wouldn't be surprised, I am talented in some things like this. Pushing forward, we were in the elevator before we knew it. However, instead of enjoying the music, it was time to move. Getting a boost from Ranger, I popped open the vent in the roof, and pulled myself onto, aiding Ranger to join me. I briefly admired the work of cables, and grease. Reminded me of our room, I might have told Ranger that, or kept my mouth shut.
Snapping myself back into the zoned in mood, I grabbed the suit case Ranger had lugged around while I did my tasks. Placing the brilliant dinner plate sized explosives, and skipping the technical work Ranger finished them with. It was a long walk from back into the elevator, down the building, and back to our hotel. I rushed open to the large window in our suite, looking out of it like a kid to a puppy in the window. Ranger was punching in several codes, and such, things I wouldn't understand no matter how long he explained it. Finally it was boom time, and that single click of the keyboard sent a roaring cry from the casino afar, the fires pouring from the blasted windows lasted seconds as I was greeted with a rumble ten times any normal explosion I've ever know.
There's something satisfying in seeing an explosion you create, more rewarding than any 'A+' you might get school, or a 'good job' from your parents. My appaulous was the roar of a bomb, the wailing sirens, and the cries from the city. I heard liquid poured by me, I turned back to Ranger to see him holding two goblet, serving a red French wine with a victorious grin spread over his face. Taking the glass, I offered a toast, despite it being completely out of character for him, but never less the glasses rose. "To the biggest job, yet." I offered, still dazed at the giant taken down. "To six years." He replied, the glass clicked and the bitter sweet liquid drunk.
I looked at the smoky pillar above the city. Six years? Six years of love, family, drama, and Ranger. My six years.
Love ya, Jake.
 Melchrome · Tue Mar 18, 2008 @ 01:16am · 0 Comments |
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