un: hieke

[inflictwounds]

So this is awkward and I don't know how to explain this, but it seems like my sigil is still being passed around as a good one to use if you want an easy deal to bring people back from the dead.

I don't do that anymore. Obviously.

But I'm kind of in the middle of California now and I would appreciate it if someone could summon me back or something?

Thanks.

Comments

[inflictwounds]

[He would probably be more impressed if he knew anything about how cars work. Unfortunately, daemons.

He crosses over and slides into the seat, resting the bag of tacos on his lap.]

I hope I got enough for everyone.

[nor_iron_bars]

You can share your half, I'm not gonna. [How much delicious Mexican food is in here? Doesn't matter. Fifty percent is hers now, she's called dibs.]

[The door closes automatically after Hieke enters, and Jail calmly navigates through the California traffic into a smaller side-street, then from there into a discreet alleyway. If he's paying close attention, he might notice that the other drivers around them... aren't, particularly.]

[Oh, they seem to be aware there's another vehicle there, but no one seems particularly interested in the car. Despite Jail's distinctly odd taste in paint jobs, everyone's eyes just seem to slide right over it, as though it's nothing worth noticing.]

[Maybe that's why Jail isn't concerned about anyone watching when she drives into the alleyway, accelerates, and uses the momentum to drive directly up a wall and launch the car into the sky.]

[It'll be fine once they get up above the cloud cover, smooth sailing. She just needed a bit of a running start, first.]

[inflictwounds]

You're not getting half.

[Dibs don't mean shit to daemons - or at the very least not to Hieke.

He leans back in his seat, getting cozy.]

How long is the trip back?

[nor_iron_bars]

That's what you think.

[A sharp left turn manages to bank them onto a lower cloud, and from there it's relatively simple to get up to her preferred altitude. She casually flicks on the autopilot and leans back in her seat, propping her feet up on the dashboard.]

Maybe forty, fifty minutes, give or take? Depends on the weather. Could go faster, but y'know. Less risk of causing a major air traffic accident at this speed.

[Her response is slightly muffled, because she's just taken a bite of the taco she's holding. When did she even grab that?]