MASON JANES:
“I kind-of wanna test it out now,” He toyed with the notion, a smirk on his lips, a true, incognizant bubble of rough and rowdy boyhood slipping up to the surface, “You got a good right hook?” The blonde japed, bringing the thick helmet up to his own head placing it down on his scalp for a few moments to let it sit, removing it once more to inspect the inner workings, “… Man, I threw old pumpkins off my roof last year, after Halloween, and that was a Hell of a lot of fun.” He stated, the fact not crossing his mind that he probably should be disclosing that to a firefighter, but he grinned regardless, amused with himself and the thick helmet in his hands, thoughts running with it, “… Bricks and pumpkins– that might be an interestin’ experiment,” The boy set it back down then, into the bag, pulling the flaps over it in an orderly position, as it had been before, and he listened to the other man while he did it. Brows furrowed, eyes looking up before he rose to his feet, “’Paranoia’?” He repeated, lifting a hand to scratch at his lobe, a dribble of sweat running down his tanned skin, “Are people still harpin’ about what happened last year? That can’t be why they closed themselves off–”
Parker breathed out a long laugh, the helmet always providing a source of entertainment for all ages. Whether it were the kids at demonstrations or adults, wanting to dress up and take some photos, it seemed like most people enjoyed the helmet. A close second was his jacket, but those were kept in the station at the request of the chief who couldn’t afford the department to forget their uniform... Instead they were all given a t-shirt, hoodie and pants with their names stitched into the front; most of the time they were dressed in those, it was only on emergencies that they were required to fully suit up. “Man, go ahead. Ain’t a pretty few hours after but never any lasting damage.” Parker flashed back to the shenanigans they got up to during their years of training, pumpkin throwing not one he had ever engaged in, but damn— It would hurt. “Anyone get hit?” He asked, not knowing much about the towns recent history. Last year Parker was happy and content with his life, Lanford a distant memory that he had hoped would stay in the back of his mind. “Messy though, man. Gotta’ do it in a yard and explain to your neighbors why you’re doing it...” The man sniggered, “You don’t want some doctors callin’ at your place the next day.” North End was a deeply suspicious and paranoid place, but it was those who resided outside the neighborhood who liked to call in strange going ons. “Guess so, man. Wasn’t here when all that shit went down, but Islanders have been blaming us for their misfortunes since the beginning of time. Kind of a running joke around here now, right? What with all that gang stuff going on, can’t really blame em...” They weren’t a gang, but the Tide was happy to be declared one. It frightened people into listening, that’s all they wanted. “They’re just rich douchebags. People with money think they’re better the rest of the world, but cut em’ off from the mainland? The ones without helicopters would go into a meltdown.”
