cawnviction | ryslig thread continuations

Lights!? That's what he's been trying to do!!

"Move what up!?"

Crow tries flicking what he thinks is the lever for the lights with one hand -- the car remains indicating he's gonna turn left -- before giving up on that and swinging his wheel violently to the left to avoid the truck and avoid turning the pair into a side of sushi and minced meat.

And hey, he even indicated before he turned! That makes him automatically better than 50% of drivers out there.

But after that narrow miss, Crow instinctively slams a hand on the car horn--

HONK HOOONK

--just like in the shows he used to watch back in Neo Domino.

"Watch where you're going!!" Crow yells at the truck driver, who, of course, can't even hear him.

JEEZUS Mike's fur stands on ends at the honks, and he's suddenly regretting leaving the horn in. A neccessary evil, apparently. He leans over, flipping on the light tab for Crow with a claw.

"Move this," said with some heavy relief. The road lights up from the headlights, and their path is now a heck of a lot clearer. Leaning back, Mike chuckles. They're not roadkill right now, so hey, he's gotta give credit to Crow for those reflexes. "A little slow on the draw there, but hey, you figured out your signals and your horn. A+, dude."

He gives Crow a thumb's up, and honestly, it's hard to tell if the gesture is genuine or teasing. Probably both when it comes to Mike.

Those reflexes are the only thing that's saved him from being crushed by or thrown into rubble. Once he gets the hang of driving a car, Crow's gonna be doing tricks and crazy stunts at top speeds like the pros.

"...Ohhh." That makes sense. Crow lets out a bark of laughter.

Now that they're not about to become pancakes, he comments, "It's kinda weird to just be controlling this hunk o' metal with just my hands and feet." He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. "Instead of, y'know."

Crow leans to the side to demonstrate. The car starts to slowly drift to the side before he returns to the normal position and he readjusts their tragectory. And then a thought strikes him.

"Do you know? You ever ride a bike?"

Mike shoots Crow a look of faux offense. If the question is "does Mike ride it?" the answer is likely yes, yes he does, in every context.

"'Course! Back home, anyway. Had my own chopper." A nostalgic sigh, but he doesn't linger on it. "It's definitely fun, feels like you're the one flying through the streets. But. . ."

He brings a hand up, tapping his knuckles at the overhead of the car.

"Being in a car feels right at home. Just feels. . .safe, I guess. Like you're with a friend, even on a lone trip."

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