[kavinsky finds the key fob in his pocket, and the evo lancer chirps open. like a gentleman (sort of) (this once), the bulgarian boy goes around and opens the door for his guest, standing there until reggie inserts himself into the vehicle. even though the car is white-- save for the black knife graphic spattered edgily (EDGILY) up its side, it's managed to accumulate heat inside. as cars do.

but kavinsky climbs in and jacks up the air-conditioning pretty high. before he's even done pulling out of the parking space, there are arctic winds pulsing out of the vents.] Had it a few months, [he answers.] Faster than my old one. But I dunno what this year's model looks like. Downside of getting fucking kidnapped by 'porter technology.' Or whatever. [kavinsky doesn't particularly understand the actual mechanics that led him to be here. nobody does, of course, but he cares less than most. mostly he thinks in terms of fate and hate.

he's here because ronan's here. there's still only one way this story ends.

but the middle can involve all kinds of fun people and stupid things!]

You should see what she does on the highway, man. Or the track. You know any of that shit? [you never know what kind of world people come from.]