#1988 Ford Taurus

[ericpoptone]

Seth & Eric's Airconditionless Adventure -- 13-21? August 1998

[rileygibs]

( young aaron paul, he/him, cismale ) i’m pretty sure i just ran into riley gibson! you know them, they’re the 29 year old mechanic that’s been here for 6 years. they can be pretty laidback, but on the d.l., they’re also flippant. i have their ringtone set as clint eastwood by gorillaz in my cell. next time you’re around the bronx, tell them to give me a call! ( kirby, 24, she/her, cst )

hey y'all, i'm kirby! thanks for joining our little group :') here's my little mid 2000s king

stats!

name: riley glenn gibson

d.o.b.: may 23rd, 1975

hometown: carson city, nv

current residence: brooklyn, nyc

height: 5'8" (5'10" according to him)

sexuality: heterosexual

positive traits: friendly, laidback, talkative, engaged

negative traits: flippant, spineless, dismissive, flaky

family: renee gibson (mother, 48yrs), joshua gibson (son, 5yrs)

about! (neglect tw)

riley was born to single mother renee gibson in carson city, nevada, midway through the 70s. she told him about a million things about his long-lost dad: he was a police officer killed in the line of duty, he was a famous musician that refused to settle down, he was away on a secret mission but he'd be back to meet his son one day. all lies. riley never knew him, and he was pretty sure renee hardly did either. it was just the two of them.

though it began to feel more and more like just him as time went on. renee worked a lot to afford the apartment they lived in, meaning her son was often left to his own devices. there were a lot of peanut butter sandwiches when he was growing up, and even more nights biking around their neighborhood and chatting with anyone he could. his life became a pretty lonely one the older he got, the more he craved any companionship.

school was a very comfortable place for him because of that. his grades were decent, not as good as they could be, but he never flunked a class. even the ones during which he spent more time talking than listening. he liked the company he had with his classmates and even the faculty. throughout his time as a student, he took up just about whatever extra curricular he found even mildly interesting: theater, baseball, student council. whatever kept him out of the house for longer.

after he graduated, riley enrolled in a local community college, not far away from where he grew up. but, now eighteen, renee pushed him to start working and contributing to the household funds. rent, groceries, utility bills. at first he was glad to help out. he lived there too after all. but his small portion grew and grew, until eventually he was paying almost all of their expenses. wherever his mother's paychecks were going was beyond him, because she seemed to stopped contributing altogether. he enjoyed college a lot, even if he was just taking some basic classes, but it got to a point where he couldn't afford it with the money he was making, and he just didn't have time for it with how much he was working. he had to drop out.

by the time he was twenty, riley had enough. he was worn out, he was overworked, and he was trapped in a box that had progressively gotten smaller. he wanted out. so he saved what money he could for a few months, piled into his 1988 ford taurus with a few suitcases and trash bags, and crossed the country to move to new york city. the first year or two was anything but easy. he floated around a lot, relying primarily on the kindness of strangers and cheap hotels, but he got himself an apartment in the bronx.

finding himself a job as a mechanic who knew very, very little about cars initially, riley worked as much as he could to afford to enroll himself back into school. he liked working on cars, and he eventually got half decent at it, but it wasn't what he wanted long term. he wanted to know how businesses worked, understand money a little better, try to give himself a stable future to make up for the unstable past he'd grown up in. it was a hard balance, but a nice one. he was happy.

but his plans got waylaid again. he'd met a girl, and their fling didn't last too terribly long, but the result of it would. they were surprised with a little boy, affectionately called joshua, in october of 1999 he was unexpected in every way but instantly consumed riley's life. once again, he put his education on hold, but with far less hesitation this time. he adored his son with every piece of himself, and his one and only goal was to give him a childhood that he'd envied so greatly when he was younger.

now 29, riley's life is still pretty consumed by his job and his son, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

headcanons + wanted connections!

absolutely 100% has undiagnosed adhd. textbook case of it if i can be honest with you

he lies about his height but it isn't because he has Little Man Syndrome. he just genuinely is convinced he's 5'10". happens to forget every time anyone corrects him

god awful at video games. tries his absolute best but he's been stuck on the same level of sonic adventure 2 for like a year and a half

lives in a little two bedroom apartment in the bronx that he struggles to afford sometimes, but he had to make sure josh had his own room even if they share custody. and yes it's sonic themed

can diagnose your car problems and will try his very best to fix them for free. maybe a part or two would mysteriously go missing from the shop in the process but... hey who's to say haha

slight abandonment issues bc yaknow. he's a clinger

i would l o v e to have his baby mama here! i imagine they coparent well and are friendly, but honestly i'm up for whatever

i'd also love some roomies that he might have had in the past. probably people that were nice enough to let the lil dude crash for extended periods of time when he was new to the city

also some neighbors! he's the kind of guy that wastes his and everyones time making small talk at the mailbox

anything honestly i'm just excited to be here :)

[juanmecanico]

GDB4033DTM TRW JUEG.PASTILL.D.FRENO,FREN.DISC Ford Sable, Ford Taurus, Ford Thunderbird, Ford WindsGDB4033DTM TRW es la marca líder a nivel mundial en diseño y producción de partes automotrices, siendo proveedor de las más prestigiosas armadoras automotrices. TRW ha estudiado las necesidades del Parque Vehicular Mexicano y le ofrece la Solución Perfecta para cada vehículo que cumple y excede las especificaciones de Equipo Original. Con TRW usted puede confiar en que está instalando las pastillas más adecuadas para cada vehículo de entre todas las opciones disponibles en el mercado. Las Pastillas de Freno TRW se fabrican para asegurar el más alto nivel de rendimiento, la comodidad del conductor y su seguridad. TRW es uno de los 10 principales proveedores de seguridad para automóviles en el mundo, como pioneroen el diseño, desarrollo y fabricación de sistemas completos de frenado, módulos de freno y sistemas decontrol avanzados para vehículos. Ford Sable: 1994 1995 1996 1997 1998 1999 2000 2001, Ford Taurus: 1988 1989 1990 1991 1994 1995 1996 1997 1998 1999 2000, Ford Thunderbird: 1985 1986 1987 1988 1989 1990, Ford Windstar: 1995 1996 1997 1998 1999 2000 2001 2002 2003, Lincoln Continental: 1993 1994, Mercury Sable: 1994 1995 1996 1997 1998 1999 2000 2001 Ford Sable: 1994 - 2001, Ford Taurus: 1988 - 2000, Ford Thunderbird: 1985 - 1990, Ford Windstar: 1995 - 2003, Lincoln Continental: 1993 - 1994, Mercury Sable: 1994 - 2001 Ford Sable, Ford Taurus, Ford Thunderbird, Ford Windstar, Lincoln Continental, Mercury Sable https://zf.tecalliance-solutions.com.mx/articles/detail/GDB4033DTM Mirar GDB4033DTM TRW JUEG.PASTILL.D.FRENO,FREN.DISC Ford Sable, Ford Taurus, Ford Thunderbird, Ford Winds

[gmendel72]

The Ye Old Quest for a New(er) Car

I figured out it’s been a while since I actually had to look for a car. The car that I’ve had for the past 10 years was my Mom’s old car that they sold to me when they got a new car. That was in 2013. Before that, I found out my cousin was selling his old Jeep that he had barely ever driven. That was in 2003. Before that, I can’t really remember. I had a 1988 Ford Taurus for my very first car…

[contac]

[cowboycakes]

AOT HEADCANONS

what car would they drive?

featuring: eren, jean, armin, connie, mikasa, porco, sasha, reiner, zeke, historia, ymir.

warnings: one (1) mention of marijuana, profanity. shitpost - not proofread.

gif credit

eren: silver 2002 ford taurus that has been through absolute hell and barely runs anymore. lots of dents and paint scratches, the AC doesn't work but the heating does. he invites you to hotbox in it but it smells so bad in there that you say no.

jean: dark blue 1978 GMC pickup truck (old country boy pickup truck because jean would be a romantic cowboy.) he would let you carve your name into the passenger seat with his pocket knife. he keeps blankets in the truck bed so you all can cuddle and watch the stars.

armin: volkswagen beetle/bug. self explanatory.

connie: connie has a dirt bike. he totaled his first car, which was a 1980s subaru leone that he was obsessed with. he had a new sound system with subwoofers put into it and everything. now he races around this dirt bike, which is probably not even street legal. he would offer to take you for rides on it though.

mikasa: a sexy red lexus sedan because she’s sexy. like just imagine how pretty she'd look driving around in it. always has a big pair of sunglasses and lotion in the console.

porco: new jeep wrangler, either white or an obnoxious bright color. it’s decked out with the light bar on top, bike rack, cool fenders, lift kit, and bumper stickers that say shit like "life is good." no doors, but he keeps the top on it so the wind doesn't mess up his hair. (idea inspired by @peachy-momos)

sasha: white toyota rav 4. equipt with crumbs under the seat, an ecosystem growing in her cupholder, and an entire wardrobe in her back seat. however she is very fun to go for drives with - windows down, music up, screaming lyrics to early 2000s breakup songs.

reiner: red ford f-350 pickup truck. he keeps it shiny and spotless, has like 5 air fresheners in there. it sits pretty high off the ground, so he would open the door for you and offer you his hand to help you up into it (even if you don't need it.)

zeke: 1988 blue jeep wagoneer (with the wood paneling on the side.) yes, it’s dated, it’s arguably ugly, but he loves it. he’s proud of it. he says its engine “purrs like a kitten.” he has one of those dancing solar powered figurines of a girl in a bikini sitting on his dashboard.

historia: baby pink range rover. would have a fuzzy steering wheel cover. she has cute ass keychains on her car keys too.

ymir: no car. in historia's passenger seat, playing with historia's hair and shit while she drives.

( my anxiety is telling me that this is way too simple of an idea and that someone else must have already done this the exact same way before so if that's the case lmk )

ANYWAYS feel free to reblog this and elaborate / make up your own headcanons :)

[goldentshirt]

Day 252

Today’s album: P!nk, M!ssundaztood (2001)

I honestly mostly just listened to Taemin’s album today and wasn’t sure what album to listen to besides that. Then, I saw it was P!nk’s birthday today. So, I thought I would go back to the first album of hers I ever listened to, because I love her. 

This was a fun trip down memory lane. A lot of the songs take me back to driving down the gravel road I lived on growing up in my first car--a brown 1988 Ford Taurus. Although a lot of the songs on this album sound like early 2000s pop music, listening to this so far removed from that time reminded me of how good and timeless most of her music is. For example, Gone to California has such a soulful, blues vibe and Lonely Girl feels wise beyond her years in terms of this being so early in her career. 

2020 music challenge

[gabriel-the-cryptid]

NO FEAR. [has to back out of a busy parking lot in a 1980s boat-style car] ONE FEAR.

[oldmotors]

The original Ford Probe - project SN-16 as it was known during development - was meant to be a front-drive replacement for the Fox-body Mustang. Many details of that original car had been cooking a long time - styling by Toshi Saito (possibly influenced by Marilena Corvasce’s Ghia Brezza) and a platform from the GD-series Mazda 626/MX-6. Both cars were mainly engineered by Hiroshima. But Mustang loyalists vociferously objected to a fwd Japanese Mustang when the SN-16 broke cover in @autoweek in 1987. Instead, SN-16 became the #FordProbe and the Mustang was slowly redesigned for 1994. - By the time of the public controversy the money had been spent and the Probe Mk1 was in preproduction - it would be built at Flat Rock, Mich., alongside its more subdued Mazda sister, the MX-6. The mk1 was very successful - more than 200K were sold in 1988-89. But even before it went on sale, Ford began work on a Mk2. This one would have more direct input from Ford, according to product chief Neil Ressler. On the Mk2, the engineering teams shared more with eachother and came up with compromises that improved both cars. The wheelbase was stretched, the track widened, and the beltline lowered to make the cars look sleeker. - Styling was overseen by Dutch-born Mimi Vandermolen, who joined Ford in 1970 and worked mainly on interiors in that decade. She briefly moved to Chrysler in 1977 but Ford asked her to return to design interiors for the 1979 Panther cars, after which she designed the Taurus’ modern, ergonomic interior. She was one of the architects of Ford’s “Rounded edge revolution.” Few cars that embodied that philosophy more than the Mk2 Probe. Base models were unadorned and clean, GTs used lower moldings to make them look even lower. Both the Probe and MX-6 looked stylish and athletic. - The Mk2 used just two engines - from Mazda - the base was a 118-hp 2.0L four. The Mk1’s turbo, punchy but raucus, and Vulcan V6 were replaced by the 164-hp 2.5L KL-03 V6. Ford developed the transmissions. Sold on style and performance, the Mk2 did well in 1993-94, but never sold as well internationally as hoped, and faded by 1995/96. A 3rd-gen car became the final Mercury Cougar in 1999. https://www.instagram.com/p/Bz-8w91l92G/?igshid=39itd4zdmms3

[vicnyse]

Timeline of past cars owned by make, model and color.

1979 Buick LeSabre

1988 Pontiac Sunbird LE

1991 Chevrolet Caprice Classic

1994 Chevrolet Impala SS (Super Sport)

1998 Honda Accord LX

1997 Ford Taurus SHO (Super High Output)

2001 Pontiac Grand Am GT

2009 Hyundai Sonata SE

2011 Hyundai Sonata SE

2012 Toyota Camry SE

[smoothshift]

1989 Ford Taurus SHO Road Test and Review - Car and Driver, December 1988 via /r/cars

1989 Ford Taurus SHO Road Test and Review - Car and Driver, December 1988 https://ift.tt/2U9WYe9

[pjdredful]

The AV Club

Chapter 1

 "You know Evie, you've been coming to me for three months now. In that three months you've only spoken once. Just once to ask for water." Tony leans back in his comfy chair and taps his notebook with the end of his pen. I shrug lightly at it and continue playing with the frayed patch at the knee of my jeans. He gives a soft sigh and nods mostly to himself, I think, rather than to me. "I know you resent these meetings but the fastest way to get them over with is to actually participate." I give him a blank look and roll my eyes.  Tony is my therapist, or he would be if I actually spoke to him but I don't because I don't need a therapist. I'm not crazy. I let him sit in silence a little longer before I check my watch. We still have fifteen minutes but sometimes when I look bored he lets me go early. I think he's almost going to let me go when he switches it up on me. "Your mother said you're having nightmares again."

 "Step-mother." His brow goes up slightly but he only nods in acknowledgement or acceptance or whatever.

 "She says they're coming almost every night now. That must be frustrating for you." For a second I consider making a smart remark but my mother, my real one, always said if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. Which is why I'm quiet about 85 percent of the time. It's not like anyone would believe anything I said anyway so I usually just skip over communicating entirely. "When I was about your age I had some pretty weird dreams too. I'd wake up in a cold sweat, confused, scared, and angry all rolled into one. The worst part was, I didn't think anyone would understand because I wasn't entirely sure I understood."

 Ten minutes to go. I flick my eyes toward him and try to keep from looking as bored as I feel. So what if he had nightmares? I'm pretty sure they weren't scenes of the end of the world and everyone he ever loved dying in a violently bloody demon apocalypse. The truth is when I say it like that I can't really blame Jo-lynn for thinking I'm a whack job and forcing me to complete my legally mandated therapy sessions. You wake the house screaming about the end of the world enough times it's bound to make even the most rational of people look like a maniac. Tony gives it a beat and looks at the clock over my shoulder before giving a resigned nod. "Okay well its a few minutes early but I can see you're still not ready to talk." He closes his blank notebook and rests it on the edge of the coffee table very deliberately. He's not the first therapist I've been dragged to over the years, and even though I don't talk to him, he's actually kind of the best. The most patient for sure but even patient people have limits. He offers me a slightly tired smile and clasps his hands between his knees lightly. "I get that you don't want to talk to me because I'm the person your step-mom picked. I get that you think this is all a bullshit waste of time and I'm an idiot, and I might be. But I'm here if you do want to talk about what's on your mind."

 A bullshit waste of time. I couldn't have said it better myself and I can't help but chuckle a little. He smiles back at me probably thinking we've made some progress here. Maybe we have. I've smiled even less than I've spoken. "You're not an idiot." He gives me a slight nod and I continue. "But this is totally a bullshit waste of time. I'd say sorry about it but you still get paid, talking or not, right?"

 He leans back in his chair again and rests his chin on his fist. "Well we're talking now, so I guess I'm earning my pay."

 Hm. He has a point. I roll my eyes at him but I'm not really bothered. "Time's up, Doc. Good talk though."

 Tony stands and opens the door to the hallway out of his office. "You know I'm not a doctor right?"

 I'm almost all the way through the door when I snort. "You know I'm not a psycho right?"

 "Evie…." I wave it off because psycho is one of those no no words now. "Now wait." He puts a hand out, not really touching me but letting me know he wants me to listen. "No one thinks you're a psycho. No one thinks you're crazy or out of control or anything like that.” God. His face is so earnest.

 I give him a look and wait a beat. “Well I dunno the judge at my hearing seemed to think I’m very out of control.” That was all just a misunderstanding. Honestly. I’m not on drugs! Okay. Well. At the very least I wasn’t on drugs when I got arrested.

 Tony just grins at me and nods his head a little as if accepting that yes obviously someone thought I was nuts. His quiet chuckle fades and he shrugs a tweed covered shoulder. “Your mom just thinks you need someone to talk to about the things you feel."

 He almost freaking had me. Almost. "Step-mom." It's too late to fix and he knows it so I wink and slip my earbuds in as I stroll down the hall out to the waiting room. Sandra the receptionist waves to me as I slide out the patient exit door and head for the bus stop. I skip through my mp3 player until I reach my favorite song by The Decemberists. Los Angeles I'm Yours plays just loudly enough to drown out the sounds of most traffic as I sit at the bus stop waiting for the number 18. I'm not thrilled about having to see Tony twice a week but the truth is today is the closest I've come to wanting to talk about it. The nightmares, the demons, the monsters, the devil, and my AP biology midterm. All of the horrible things that keep me up at night. I'm so deep in thought that for a second I don't realize that a shit brown 1988 Ford Taurus is idling roughly at the curb where the bus stops.

 My bestfriend Nat pokes his head out of the passenger window and whistles to get my attention. "Yo…crazy face! Get in!" I shake my head with a laugh and run to the car, hurrying to beat the bus just pulling in with a nasty honk at Nat and his brother. I fling myself in to the back seat, squishing into a warm, soft body with a slight blush.

 "Hey Lirae." She gives me a smirking smile because it's pretty much the only kind she knows how to give. I pull my seatbelt around and fumble for a second looking for the part to click into before I realize that Lirae is sitting on it. And still watching me with that serene calm that lets me know that she's purposely sitting on the seatbelt thing.

 "Problem?" I fidget a little before letting go of the seatbelt altogether. Forget it. I'd rather be flung to my death through the windshield. I can feel my face burning as she chuckles and bumps my shoulder with hers. Lirae’s usually on but currently off again boy toy makes an annoyed tsking sound and a really nasty beer burp. She turns her head to give him a disgusted look. "Gross Orson. You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

 "No. I kiss yours." She elbows him in the gut hard enough to make him choke out a breath before she reaches across my body to pull my seatbelt back over. I go still as a frightened mouse and try not to think about how close we all are in this tiny rusting deathtrap and how warm Lirae's hands are at my hip as she buckles me in.

 "Can't have our girl getting hurt can we?" Uhhh. My brain has momentarily stopped functioning at the softly whispered comment. Orson is watching her very closely and I know that he's going to make my life miserable. He's the one friend of my super small circle that isn't really a friend. More like a tolerable associate. I wouldn't talk to him at all if it weren't for Lirae bringing him to the AV Club. Once he was in he kind of just took root. Like a really annoying weed.

 "So what's the diagnosis? Is Evil Evie still cray cray?" There it is. I roll my eyes and don't even bother to hide the smile when Lirae elbows him again. "What? The kid is a train wreck, we all know that already."

 Nat turns around in his seat as much as he can and nods at me. "Don't listen to dickwad there. He's just in a bad mood because Coach chewed him a new asshole at practice." I'm not that girl you know? The cheerleading, team sport loving, school spirit having All American Girl. That's just not me. For one thing I'm not even sure how football works. And for another I'd much rather date the prom queen than the prom king. Plus there's that whole thing where the weird paranormal shit that only happens in movies and TV seems to always happen to me. I don't mean to imply that I'm a cosmic joke and a walking magnet for the weird and terrifying. I mean to outright state fact. I am a living, breathing, magic and mayhem magnet. All that scary hoodoo crap you think can't be real? It is.

 So no. I'm not the girl that hangs with the pep squad or the popular kids. Orson however, well. He's the top jock and he acts like it too. I smile at Nat and shrug. "Like water off a duck's back." Nat chucks me under the chin playfully and turns back in his seat as we cruise along toward the clubhouse. See? Tony shouldn't feel bad, I don't talk even to my friends. "What are you guys doing here anyway? I thought we were meeting at the clubhouse at seven." It's not quite six yet but any change of plan that keeps me off the public busses is okay by me.

 Mo looks at me through the rearview mirror and shrugs. "We were at The Harbor." My brows come up a little at that. The Harbor isn't a place for boats and beaches in our town. The Harbor is a very seedy bar where you can acquire just about anything if you have the money and don't sweat the small details. Like, where said purchased thing came from, or even knowing the name of the person you bought it from. Needless to say The Harbor is the last place a bunch of teenagers should be. And yet…we know it well. At least I know it well. Well enough to get arrested for being underage in a bar I had no business being in. My punishment? Mandatory rehabilitative counseling. I wasn't there to drink but when I told the undercover officer that detained me that I was there to see a man about a stone he just assumed I actually said I was there to see a man about getting stoned. Like I said. Misunderstanding.

 "Any news?" I try hard to keep the hopeful note out of my voice. Everyone in this car knows my deal. Average dorky high school student by day, metaphysical super magnet by night. Well. That part is really a 24 hour deal but since most of the paranormal crap is powered by moonlight I get a reprieve. Just in time for those oh so thrilling biology classes. This weird dark attraction has been my curse since my eleventh birthday and there hasn't been a damn thing I can do about it. In short I'm just like Mo and Nat, Orson and Lirae. Well. Possibly not exactly like Lirae. I'm not sure there's anyone quite like her. But what I mean is that I'm just as normal as the next geek. I can't see or hear anything different than any other human, all I can do is 'sense' the darkness. It's more of a gut instinct which is so much more difficult to explain to a rational human being. Hey a demon thing is in town. Oh how do I know? Because I can feel it. What does it look like? Well I'm not sure really since I only ever see things like that in my horrible puke inducing nightmares. Yeah. This is my life.

 I watch Mo's lips curl in a slight smile even though he doesn't say anything. I'm hoping that means good news for me and bad news for my nightmares. He pulls off the main road taking a little used dirt switchback track. Orson, Lirae and I bounce around in the back like sacks of laundry, grabbing on to any surface that will keep us stationary as the car rolls over the rutted and uneven path.  Mo banks a curve that throws Lirae's body in to mine hard enough to make my head smack the window. I'd grumble but I'm too terrified to move because I'm pretty sure there is a boob on my arm. Lirae rights herself by pushing off my knee with a grunt and I breathe. I can feel the heat of her hand still on my knee right through my jeans. Probably it’s the closest I’ll get to being groped by another human being again in my life. I make sure to avert my gaze toward the window to hide the creeping red flush up my face. Maybe if I don’t move, she won’t either. As the car skids to a stop in front of the dilapidated shack we call a clubhouse I curse my ineptitude in all things romantic.

 "Hey Mo, grab the equipment while me and Orson get the cooler out of the trunk." I look up at Nat's tall, broad shouldered back as I extricate myself from the backseat of the car. He turns his curly blonde head to catch me giving him the curious side eye and smiles innocently. Well if I wasn't suspicious of him needing 'help' with the cooler before, that too casual innocent look certainly seals the deal now. I open my mouth to ask why he needs help but Nat cuts me off "Hey you and Lirae kick on the generator. I think there's still a full gas can in the shed." Okay he's being weird. I stand there a little confused when Lirae rests an elbow on my shoulder to watch the boys wrestle the extra-large camp cooler out of the trunk of the car.

 "He's being weird, right?" My thoughts exactly. I glance at her with a grin and shake my head.

 "When isn't he? C'mon it's getting dark already." I really don't like being outside of the clubhouse when it's dark out. Not because of monsters and ghosts but because there be wildlife in them there hills. What? Raccoons are terrifying! Lirae follows me but not before reaching out quick little hands to tickle my ribs.

 "Watch out! The raccoons will get you." Asshole. I slap at her hands and squirm away with a little squeak of protest. I'm a little more glad for the dimness of dusk than I was a few minutes ago because at least it hides my blush as she laughs at my responses.

 "Laugh all you want but probably you're the one they'll eat first when the Critterpocalypse comes." I pull out my phone to use as a flashlight when I duck under the low door frame of the shed. It used to be a child's playhouse sitting a few feet away from the main shack so it's a little cramped with the generator and two people. As usual if it could happen, it does, and always to me. I make a small disgusted sound and try to wipe the cobwebs from the side of my face. Fantastic. "Ugh. Gross. Here, hold this will ya?"

 Lirae takes the phone from my hand and directs it at the generator for me. I take a tick to check the fuel gauge just to make sure before I yank the ripcord a few times to turn the motor on. It sputters to life with a roar and the sound of music floats back to us on the warm breeze. I can just see Lirae's full lipped mouth curve into a smile in the dim light from my phone. "You're a mess."

 I stand still as she steps in closer to pick the thick gauzy web out of my hair. "Thanks." I clear my throat, suddenly a little unsure and super uncomfortable. Maybe it's the gas fumes. They're making me feel all fuzzy headed and belly floppy like I just got off a rollercoaster. Or maybe it's just being this close to Lirae, alone, in the dark. She pulls the last web away and we're just standing face to face. Her hazel eyes look black in the shadow and suddenly much closer than they were a second ago. So close I can see her heavy lashes fall closed as we lean in closer for a kiss. The second, the absolute second, I close my eyes finally deciding to do something, anything, Orson's voice breaks the silence and causes me to jerk back.

 "Hey fucker, answer the phone. Hey fucker, answer the phone. Hey fucker, answer th…" I glare at my phone in indignation. That little shit changed my ringtone for his number!  Lirae sighs and tips her head back with an unhappy laugh and answers it. I'm too embarrassed to realize at first that she hadn't moved an inch at the sound of his voice.

 "What?" It's clipped and to my ears a little frustrated but that could be hopeful thinking on my part.

 "Hurry your sweet ass up the beer is getting warm." The beer is in no way getting warm. It’s just that Orson is a dick.

 Lirae ends the call and hands me back my phone with a slightly annoyed look. "Hm. Saved by the bell." I want to comment but I don't have anything really to say. Other than sorry. Which judging by the look on her face is not the appropriate response. When I can't come up with anything helpful she lets out another sigh and leaves me standing in the dark of the shed. All by my lonesome. Great.    

By the time I make my way in to the clubhouse everyone is settled on the mismatched furniture we've managed to squirrel away here. I take a beer and my usual seat in the bright yellow bean bag chair that Orson's little brother meant to throw out.  There's a rip in the seam at the back. Not enough to spew little balls of polystyrene filler but enough to make it sound rude every time I sit in it. Everyone snickers a little and I roll my eyes. "So. What happened at The Harbor?"

 I glance at each of them but they all turn their attention to Mo. Despite being brothers Nat and Mo don't really look alike. Aside from the curly hair they're as different as two people could be. Mo is built more like a swimmer, sinewy and thin, his shoulders slump a little from years spent in front of a computer screen. Heavy lidded dark eyes spark with anticipation and I'm immediately caught in the expectancy of the moment. "I got a call from Manny while you were at your appointment. Warrow is back."

 Warrow. Oh man I hate that smelly guy. He has a bad habit of trying to grab my ass every time I have to talk to him. "Where was he this time?"

 Not that it matters much. Like I said. Don't sweat the details and everything is okie dokie. "Nepal. And he brought you this." Mo holds up a blackened stone with what looks like patches of rust colored mud caked to it. "He said and I quote 'To chase 'way night horrors so that me sweet lassie c'n dream of my…"

 "Okay gross I don't even need to hear the rest." I reach out a hand and take the stone. It's warm in my hand and a little heavier than I thought it would be. It smells like dust and something earthier that I can't identify. Up close it looks like a turd but if it's a magic turd I guess that's okay.

 "So what do you think? Is it the real deal?" It's hard to say so I shrug at Nat, still eying my magic turd rock.

 "I dunno but we'll see what happens tonight." I tuck it away in my pocket before finally cracking open my beer to sip at it. I'm not a big drinker but I need something to do right now to keep my focus from drifting back to what almost happened in the shed. "How much did he ask for it? Was it a lot?"

 Everyone goes quiet except Orson. He chuckles and stretches his muscular dark skinned arms over his head. "He didn't want money." I look at Nat and Mo who are suddenly and very determinedly looking everywhere but me. That only leaves one person who will tell me what's going on. I look at Lirae and even she looks a little uncomfortable as she plays with her own fingers. Why do I feel like I’m going to hate whatever is going to come out of her mouth?

 "You owe him a future favor of his choosing." Yup. I hate it. Oh God. Knowing Warrow this future favor may involve nudity, lewd and illegal acts, drugs and or alcohol and dark magics. Not necessarily in that order or combination. My horrified expression makes Orson's chuckle turn in to a barely choked back guffaw. "Don't freak! We totally specified nothing sexual or illegal. Promise."

 I must still look a little freaked out because she moves off the floral patterned loveseat she was sharing with Orson to sit on the floor next to my chair. Somehow this makes it all mostly better. "Well, I guess if this works it will be worth it. I don't know how much more Jo-lynn can stand." Lirae reaches up to tug one of my braided pigtails playfully and I guess that means she's done being irritated with me.

 "So what's the plan Evil Evie? We looking for boogiemen tonight or what?" More like or what. While terrifying and more than a little gross and overly graphic, my nightmares haven't been anything really solid. Just images of what could happen. I haven't been getting the 'feeling' that something wicked has wandered in to our town. Or if it has it's doing an amazing job of hiding itself. I shrug a little and shake my head.

 "I don't know. Aside from the dreams it's been pretty quiet. After the poltergeist last month it's like everything has just…gone away." Normal people would look upon this with relief and possibly hope for a better tomorrow. I look at the silence with dread bordering on hysterical anxiety. Evil for lack of a better term, doesn't die, doesn't get tired, and most certainly doesn't forget. The last six years have proved that time and time again to me. Everyone looks disappointed but no one seems to share my apprehension.

 "More time to drink!" Orson high fives Nat as they simultaneously chug their beers. My night has definitely taken a down turn.

[tomatodeals]

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