Welcome to Gaia! ::

He endured the questions with commendable patience, although having to constantly deflect questions about America through sheer taciturn cussedness (yes she is I wish you hadn't seen that she's nineteen (close enough, he thought) we met through work no it isn't serious (or real) what the hell is a trigger warning) and questions about himself with simple refusal to pursue it (I got it at work and it's none of your business) was clearly causing him a great amount of anxiety. He badly wanted a cigarette but felt it inadvisable to smoke in the provided minivan, and at some point while they peppered Maebe with questions about Stiles and Derek, whoever the ******** that was, he found time to check in with Edith as requested. Probably she would hear the exhaustion creeping in around the edges of his "yes ma'ams" and "no ma'ams," and she'd certainly be able to hear the chatter in the background.

He tried to break up the endless stream of babble by way of attempts to engage first Grace (abort, abort, as he rapidly learned his lesson) and then, rather less successfully, Joy, attempting, because it was Taym, to corner her on the subject of what she was reading before realizing that if she was that stuck in a book she was probably, like him, disinclined to interrupt it for some clueless, tactless a*****e asking for a plot synopsis.

Being able to join had made him feel sick. He wanted to take them all three by the shoulders and give them a shake and tell them that they were making a mistake and to please, God, find some ******** alternative. He tried to imagine poor idealistic Hope and her first encounter with the many forms of cruelty Deus had on offer; he had horrible visions of Joy's head pressed to Caelius's desk with the scythe uplifted; the idea of Grace kneeling among the ashes and bloodied limbs that had once been the basement and its occupants and picking up the binder that America had kept her HOT notes in cemented his decision to, in true Taym fashion, not think about it.

Maebe seemed, by all accounts, genuinely interested in Hope's retelling of high school life. Her face twitched when Joy mentioned joining, but Maebe wasn't as heartbroken about their entrance as Taym might have been - no matter how painful and frightening Deus had been so far, the real world had been much, much crueler to her. The twins were prepared, even earlier than the rest of them - they'd be fine.

They'd probably be better than fine. All kung-fu grip and advanced martial arts action. They'd easily kick her a**, she was sure of it.

She was glad that the topic focused on boys, because it was her favorite topic, and she give as good as she got. Invasive questions were welcomed, because Maebe was unfairly proud of the answers lately. She told them all about Otto, and his cute little sullen skateboard loner attitude. She told them all about Cami, and detailed every curve a little too thoroughly. And she showed them pictures, because she wasn't a grinch like their driver.

"I mean, look at him." Otto looked furious in the picture she was sharing, having been coming out of the shower and clearly not prepared for a photo shoot. "He's just a little darling. You can literally hear him yelling from here."

She answered every single question they threw at her, though her answers were far more lengthy, and she enjoyed telling them. (She had just turned 19, she told them, and she styled her hair herself every single day for an hour. TV was her only blank spot, but her v-card question was the only one she actually held back on.

And the last answer was Castiel, of course. And Sterek. Always Sterek.)

The girls had helped her learn just a little bit more about Taym, too - even if he was short and abrupt with his responses. But she hadn't missed the sound of roaring engines, which was almost a mating call to her. She leaned back, searching the road for what could only be -

"Girls," She cleared her throat. "Put your faces on. I sense bikers."

Taym's glances in the rearview become somewhat more frequent. The idea of having to share road space with a pack of bikers was distinctly unpleasant, and he was debating the wisdom of pulling over and letting them pass versus the wisdom of letting them do it themselves.

"Would prefer it," he said drily and mostly to Maebe (although Grace was a concern), "if you didn't cat-call out the windows. Actually just roll them up," he added irritably. "Loud as hell."

And it was: increasingly cacophonous, setting his teeth on edge. For every bit of Taym that was a wide-eyed adolescent trying desperately to be cool there was another bit that was a cranky old man yelling at the kids on his lawn, and it was the latter that was very much in force at the moment. It's a good thing Deus got to him when they did: give him another decade and he'd already be penning angry letters to the editor about mufflers and public nuisances.

One motorcycle? Fine. Even two, maybe. But this, Taym thought grimly, ought to be illegal.

"What, you run out of batteries?" Joy intoned, but it was decidedly distracted as she took out her phone and recorded what was undeniably a gang, began to draw alongside, and then pass by, the van. Grace and Hope waved, of course. One of the bikes had a passenger who, upon noting the phone, flashed Joy with a grin, and was rewarded with a thumb's up from the girl.

Soon the bikes had the van boxed in all directions and were no longer passing the van, instead staying with it. On the passenger side, one of the bikers drew close and held something out. Grace leaned out eagerly to grab it while Hope began to look concerned.

Joy's smart mouth was so endearing. Maebe flashed her a toothy grin, before turning back to the windows and blowing kisses at the bikers. She didn't seem to notice that the gang was closing them in, until it was just a minute too late. Something was being handed in to the triplets, and all of Maebe's smug little enjoyment went flying out the window, along with her hand.

"DON'T TOUCH THAT." She slapped the item away, refusing to grab it herself but keeping it away from the girls. It could have been a gun. A bomb. Drugs. An invitation to a rave. Or something else equally life threatening, and Maebe would have no part in it.

"Girls." Her voice seethed dangerously, still level but now serious. "We look. We don't touch."

"You don't see why what?" Taym snapped, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the backs of the jackets. "Why it might be a bad ******** idea to take what i am pretty sure was a joint Jesus Christ from some random guy on the highway? Really?"

"I don't know who taught you guys what cool is, but taking something from a guy on a moving motorcycle is about as cool as a corpse. Let's have some common sense, ladies. You want to live to see your first perfect 10." She eyed Taym warily. "Lord knows you haven't seen one, yet."

Badass. Taym. These girls needed to get out more. "Maybe when you do join, I'll take you out sometime. Show you guys what's actually cool."

Nothing about the way they were weaving indicated friendliness to Maebe. She knew a bad boy when she saw one, and she saw plenty. They were lovely to look at, but she wasn't about to climb out of the car to join them anytime soon.

"Heaven's Devils." She snorted. "I'm not impressed."

rejam

lizbot

The jacket was returned with a cursory eye roll. What followed was a great big ******** sulk, which offered the benefit of relative silence from the girls. That didn't stop them from trying to sneak looks at either the phone or making demands in regards to the radio, though.