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For this Nexus Prompt: 5. How does your character handle long trips? Do they Have to be the one driving? Are they more content to be in the back sleeping the whole way? Do they want to stop every hour to take pictures?
Robert was packing the final things into the front seat of the limo. With Antheans on the trip flight wasn't always an option. He would have to drive this stretch of the tour. 17 hours to be exact which wasn't the longest drive he'd ever taken. It was going to be the longest one he'd driven with a group of rockstars though, especially one this large. This too without Tom's voice of reason to keep them in line. He would be on his own.
The bikes started rolling up, while he'd packed all the luggage in the trunk; the Dane, the Fin, and the Norwegian were going to drive with their partners. Damien was on the Dane's extra bike, presumably the drummer riding along. They'd slept most of the previous day in prep, resting up. It at least lightened the load of people in the back. The group had grown from 12 to 16, or more, and there was no way even this spacious limo was going to be able to contain that many for this long of a drive.
The goal was to drive most of the way in one go so they could get in and rest before another run of shows. The equipment and the crew were already gone on a semitruck and plane the night before. It was a lot to coordinate and more than he had managed in years, not since he was running recon missions years ago. He did get a laugh thinking about the rockstars as young airforce cadets, too rowdy and cocky for their own good. Maybe that is why he could deal with them so well. Practice.
He had some time, twenty minutes before they were due to leave. There was a breath to lean against the car and watch the sunrise while drinking a bit of tea. Time to wonder how he was going to fare being in charge of this lot for a week on the road. The group on the bikes already rowdy and tormenting each other over something or another. Robert watched them, listening to all the languages. The Scandinavians still surprised him with the sheer number of languages they spoke with decent to native fluency. More amusing was the Brits being totally lost ninety percent of the time when they got to harassing and yelling in someone's native languages. The tables turned though when the Brits started slinging around slang. Aarne had a good grasp but the others lagged, Vars would get angry if no one explained. Someone was going to get a busted lip for the trip at this rate.
The others had come down and climbed quietly into the back. The division made sense now that he saw it so starkly. The calmer Spiders, Jack, Hunter and Gloria in the car. Another snorted laugh thinking about Hunter as 'the calm one'. Mouka and Diamond hopped in the back before Ziggy offered Robert the cage with Bonne. She couldn't ride in the back or Gilly would spend the whole trip screaming like he was about to die. No one needed that. Robert didn't mind riding with the rat, often letting her out to spend some time on his shoulder while he drove.
Setting the small cage on the seat Robert was again struck by the sheer volume of things to manage. People, pets, instruments, bags, and that ignored all the equipment and instruments the crew took. It was enough to get a heavy sigh from the older man while he tried to ensure everything and everyone was where they belonged.
The Norwegian screaming at him for being a slow old man was enough to force him to give up. If something was left Tom would catch it on a final sweep of the rooms. The important things were all loaded up. Robert climbed in finally, glancing at Erik who had taken Tom's usual place as co-pilot and company on a long haul like this. Bonne was already curled up in her cage for a sleep. He had to admit the rat grew on him over time. Never as scared as Gilly, Robert simply hadn't been fond of them at the start of this tour. Now, he was as bad as the Dane about letting the rat run free or hang around on his shoulder.
The bike gang took off. Each giving him the finger in turn as they drove by. He laid on the horn in response. It wasn't even an insult any more but a wave, of sorts. The things he got used to in all this madness. He briefly checked in with the ones in the back who were already settling into a conversation. Seventeen hours. He could do this.
Another glance at Erik and then the mirrors before he pulled away and headed toward the highway. The sky was only now turning to the reds and blue of the sun breaking the horizon. This was his retirement and Robert found it better than sitting around. Who else could say they retired into rockstar circles. Usually it was the otherway around. People retired out of it.
Robert was packing the final things into the front seat of the limo. With Antheans on the trip flight wasn't always an option. He would have to drive this stretch of the tour. 17 hours to be exact which wasn't the longest drive he'd ever taken. It was going to be the longest one he'd driven with a group of rockstars though, especially one this large. This too without Tom's voice of reason to keep them in line. He would be on his own.
The bikes started rolling up, while he'd packed all the luggage in the trunk; the Dane, the Fin, and the Norwegian were going to drive with their partners. Damien was on the Dane's extra bike, presumably the drummer riding along. They'd slept most of the previous day in prep, resting up. It at least lightened the load of people in the back. The group had grown from 12 to 16, or more, and there was no way even this spacious limo was going to be able to contain that many for this long of a drive.
The goal was to drive most of the way in one go so they could get in and rest before another run of shows. The equipment and the crew were already gone on a semitruck and plane the night before. It was a lot to coordinate and more than he had managed in years, not since he was running recon missions years ago. He did get a laugh thinking about the rockstars as young airforce cadets, too rowdy and cocky for their own good. Maybe that is why he could deal with them so well. Practice.
He had some time, twenty minutes before they were due to leave. There was a breath to lean against the car and watch the sunrise while drinking a bit of tea. Time to wonder how he was going to fare being in charge of this lot for a week on the road. The group on the bikes already rowdy and tormenting each other over something or another. Robert watched them, listening to all the languages. The Scandinavians still surprised him with the sheer number of languages they spoke with decent to native fluency. More amusing was the Brits being totally lost ninety percent of the time when they got to harassing and yelling in someone's native languages. The tables turned though when the Brits started slinging around slang. Aarne had a good grasp but the others lagged, Vars would get angry if no one explained. Someone was going to get a busted lip for the trip at this rate.
The others had come down and climbed quietly into the back. The division made sense now that he saw it so starkly. The calmer Spiders, Jack, Hunter and Gloria in the car. Another snorted laugh thinking about Hunter as 'the calm one'. Mouka and Diamond hopped in the back before Ziggy offered Robert the cage with Bonne. She couldn't ride in the back or Gilly would spend the whole trip screaming like he was about to die. No one needed that. Robert didn't mind riding with the rat, often letting her out to spend some time on his shoulder while he drove.
Setting the small cage on the seat Robert was again struck by the sheer volume of things to manage. People, pets, instruments, bags, and that ignored all the equipment and instruments the crew took. It was enough to get a heavy sigh from the older man while he tried to ensure everything and everyone was where they belonged.
The Norwegian screaming at him for being a slow old man was enough to force him to give up. If something was left Tom would catch it on a final sweep of the rooms. The important things were all loaded up. Robert climbed in finally, glancing at Erik who had taken Tom's usual place as co-pilot and company on a long haul like this. Bonne was already curled up in her cage for a sleep. He had to admit the rat grew on him over time. Never as scared as Gilly, Robert simply hadn't been fond of them at the start of this tour. Now, he was as bad as the Dane about letting the rat run free or hang around on his shoulder.
The bike gang took off. Each giving him the finger in turn as they drove by. He laid on the horn in response. It wasn't even an insult any more but a wave, of sorts. The things he got used to in all this madness. He briefly checked in with the ones in the back who were already settling into a conversation. Seventeen hours. He could do this.
Another glance at Erik and then the mirrors before he pulled away and headed toward the highway. The sky was only now turning to the reds and blue of the sun breaking the horizon. This was his retirement and Robert found it better than sitting around. Who else could say they retired into rockstar circles. Usually it was the otherway around. People retired out of it.
