he’s wishing he drank more when his unfocused eyes finds his own car among the smouldering vehicles in the car park, feeling that urge to down his disbelief with another shot and pretend this was all just a good game, a little prank that his inebriated mind can laugh at - but soren’s head is, most unfortunately, clearer than he had hoped, the weight of what just happened pressing down on him like the smoke starting to curl in his lungs.
why would someone do something like this – ?
(his alcohol-addled mind is far too gone to be stringing out reasons or theories, but there’s something tucked inside his bones that tell him an answer he can’t ignore, even with one too many shots and whatever other substances are currently running rampant in his bloodstream right now)
soren stumbles around the burning vehicles, wishing he didn’t drink as much as he did - his steps show the traces of too many glasses in too little time and he hates what he surely must look like to the growing crowd - a sad, bumbling fool in front of his burning car - pathetic.
(he doesn’t want pity anymore, he just wants to know who, wants to know why)
he almost runs into another figure, his feet skidding just in time to stop himself from crashing from the broad-shouldered man before him - he wobbles a little, so focused on not making himself into an even bigger fool that it takes him a few more moments than socially appropriate to place the face and understand the words.
“yes. a long night it has been.” soren tries hard not to slur his words, but he figures it’s a lost cause at this point. “… yeah. the dark green one near the middle’s mine. well, it was mine. or, well, it’s still mine, but it’s more like it was a car. it’s my scrap now, yes.”
“… i’m guessing it’s too early to have any leads?”
The longer Soren tried to keep his ruse up, the more thankful Logan was that the kid hadn’t been anywhere near the fire when it started. He wouldn’t have been in a right enough state of mind to fight back whoever did this. “Sorry to hear that.” Odd as it sounded, if he had his car still, he’d offer to give Soren a ride home. Seemed like they were in the same boat for a while. “Mine was that black one, close to the end there,” he said, pointing to the pile of junk it now was. He sighed. It wasn’t so much the car itself he’d miss, but the memories that came with it. Wouldn’t it be nice if, just for once, change weren’t a bad thing? “That’s my scrap.”
Leads weren’t something Logan wanted to divulge, especially with the Augury leaving their mark. The last thing he needed was a wasted Soren running around in a panic over a group they hardly knew anything about. “Considering it just happened…yeah, it’s a little early. I’ll have a better idea tomorrow once I’ve had time to process this shit show.” His eyes fell on Soren again, the memory of catching him with a drink in his hand every time Logan saw him coming to mind. He glanced around; realizing anything he could do here had already been done. If it wasn’t, well...his cell phone hadn’t been left in his car, thankfully. It worked just fine. “Come on. You and I can share a cab back to your place.” Soren didn’t need to go anywhere by himself tonight. Especially not like this. And he didn’t need to stay just so he could stare at what used to be his car. Neither did Logan, for that matter. “We don’t need to stick around here.”
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