Let's see what you can do

Posted on Sun Jan 18th, 2026 @ 13:31 by Alastair Temple & Liana Zhao

Chapter: Besieged
Location: New Cresthill
Timeline: Post 'the new ride'
4642 words - 9.3 OF Standard Post Measure

It wasn't until they'd turned the corner and the garage disappeared from sight that Liana paused to reflect on how long it had been since she'd visited the town for any reason other than sheer necessity. Like most of the country, the population of New Cresthill had fallen roughly into one of three categories; those who were for the new legislation, those who were against, and a significant amount who failed to solidify an opinion one way or another. Now that events had blown up and the law had been amended to remove a lot of its power, the disgruntled had mostly scurried back into their respective holes to grumble and complain. As was nearly always the case, the most stubborn amongst them would never been persuaded to think differently but they'd had their sense of entitlement drastically reduced and that was enough, at least to make the simple act of walking down the street a lot calmer than it had been recently.

It allowed an opportunity to relax, and with it, pick a subject that was far more interesting than worrying about who might be watching them.

"You must have been planning it for a while," she continued the gentle teasing that had started the minute they'd left the lot. "At this rate, Claire will need dedicate an entire parking garage in your honor." Her tone carried no recrimination, just the gentle fondness of one who was glad to see something joyful after such a long slog of the complete opposite.

"Mostly a matter of connections, capital and a boat load of patience," Al explained as they walked. Hand in hand, because that was just how he rolled. "Part of him wasn't quite sure how to feel. He'd been awaiting this day for months and now that it was here - ... What was he going to do with all that anticipation? Until today the car had seemed surreal to him, like a dream almost. Larger than life. But now that he'd seen it for real, touched it, crawled all over it to get behind it in the container - part of that mysticism had vanished. Vaporised. And the car, that beautiful Hakosuka GT-R, had become to him what it always had been; a small-ish sports coupe with aggressive, even sinister styling. "Hired an agent to look for one for sale, picked this one out of several he'd found, wired the money, had him organize the purchase and shipping, waited a few months - and here we are. I'm not planning to buy any more cars - but then, a year ago I'd have said I wasn't planning to buy this one, either."

The explanation drew a smile. "So why this one?"

It was a question Liana knew she had no chance of guessing the answer to but was also sure would be steeped in a passion that stirred Alastair's soul. For that reason, the answer intrigued her, though admittedly less for the details themselves than for provoking his happiness further. Not for the first time, she was struck by the likelihood that this was a conversation he would have better luck really delving into with her father, which drew her back to the conversation regarding a visit. Introducing the pair felt important, and that was saying something when her father hadn't even met John until after they were married.

"Why this import from Japan? I could be all noble and claim it was for preservation, since they're rare and there's a whole history to them, but honestly - " he trailed off a moment, as if trying to find the right words. The amount of thought he put into this answer was evident by how he slowed down his walk a bit as he considered his choice of vocabulary. "I've spent the two plus years since my friends died in that car crash in utter depression, feeling sorry for myself. Now though? I've turned my life around. Found a calling. Found an incredible girlfriend. And found myself in a situation where I can afford to do dumb shit just because it makes me happy, just because it tickles the part of me that never grew up. Never had a chance to do nice things for himself. And so I did." He squeezed her hand as they walked, though his expression remained contemplative.

"As for why this specific one? I've always loved the Hakosuka Skyline, and this one the agent said was in excellent condition, well taken care of," Beat. "Plus, I like the color."

This time, the response earned a quiet chuckle, and with it an acceptance of not only the explanation but Alastair's intentional compliment embedded within, for all it had added an extra hint of colour that the brisk wind was already contributing heavily to. "I was meaning more the specific car," Liana admitted, giving his hand a squeeze in return, "because the rest of it, I completely agree with. It's a little too easy to get caught in a sacrificial loop, especially in the line of work, and particularly after the last few months. Self-care is important, right down to treating yourself."

Aware that she was toeing the line of psycho-analyzing when it wasn't explicitly sought, Liana wrinkled her nose playfully and leaned up to press a kiss to the patch of skin on Alastair's cheek she could claim for her own amidst his facial hair.

"Of course, a vintage luxury car is a little more than a treat by most definitions," she teased, not because she actually saw it as a problem but because Alastair was better than most at bringing out her mischievous side. "I hope you cleared all this with Omen."

A smirk from the music teacher. "Omen'll be fine," The commercial center of Cresthill came into sight as they rounded the corner and found themselves on the main street where most of the shops were located. A moment's pause, he hadn't actually gotten much further in planning the day than 'go to town'. Now that they were there he wasn't sure where in town to go. "I was actually gonna give you keys to one of them. You can drive but don't have a car, and any time you need to go somewhere you're reliant on someone else. So I figured that if I gave you a spare set of keys you can take either Omen or Umbra whenever you need a ride. Got any preference?"

Startled, it took Liana a moment to realise he meant between the cars rather than a place to eat lunch, which was a much more difficult decision purely because she was still stuck right back at being unconvinced the huge display of trust was warranted. "I..."

Leave it to Alastair Temple to render her speechless; he had a knack.

"I'm not wholly sure I'd know how to drive either of them," she eventually landed on, a quiet confession that avoided pointing out that the gesture wasn't necessary or expected. Liana was reasonably sure Alastair knew she didn't consider herself entitled to his belongings; much like her, it was likely the sole reason he was willing to offer in the first place.

"Same as you'd drive any other car. You do have your license, right?" he quirked a brow, though quickly raised a smile again. "We'll burn that bridge when we get to it. For now, was there anywhere you were wanting to go, here?"

It wasn't quite what she'd meant. Whilst, yes, Liana was licensed to drive, her reliance on personal transport had been spotty over the years. Prior to moving to Avalon, her apartment in Manchester had been central enough that owning a car hadn't been necessary and though she'd eventually driven both herself and Jess all the way to Scotland, that had been in the other woman's car, which had a good deal less power under the hood than Alastair's two. More to the point, it didn't come with the same price tag and, more importantly, lacked the psychological attachment. When she said she wasn't sure how to drive either of them, what she really meant 'drive them without having a minor heart attack.'

"We could try the bottom pub," she replied, acknowledging first the need to settle on a place for lunch. "I hear their menu isn't too bad." More to the point, it was the establishment that had shown the most pro-mutant tendencies, having even been targeted itself by the hooligans overstepping the bounds of entitlement. Offering a little support in return seemed like the right thing to do.

"Bottom pub sounds good. I like that place. Mutant-friendly," he smiled, offering her an arm before starting the walk, measuring his pace by Li's. Long legs meant he normally walked considerably faster, but he was in no rush and wanted his companion to be comfortable. "It's been a while since I was last there."

"It's nice to be able to support them again without drawing unwanted attention."

As they moved towards the pub perched on a corner at the lower entrance to the main road, Liana reflected on the suffering of those who hadn't needed to paint targets on themselves but had chosen to anyway. Mhairi and her father, Gabriella, at least fifty percent of the town's total Gregg's employees... (In an odd state of affairs, the two franchise bakeries, who had more than just their sausage roll recipes to unite them, had wound up inciting mild controversy when one of the owners had refused to endorse anti-mutant rhetoric despite the other store's willingness. In a place like New Cresthill, that pretty much guaranteed a portion of their patrons would now never set foot in one or the other and, thus, another ancient feud sowed its first seeds.)

"For that matter, it's nice to be able to walk up the street without incident."

"The greatest advancements have been made through the greatest - ... Things. That one got away from me a bit," Al smirked, amusement in his eyes, before he turned a bit more serious. Just a bit. "This town - ... Is something else. Though I suppose it represents a microcosm of the country at large. Mixed feelings on important matters, different opinions, different goals, cares and concerns. I don't envy the people who have to govern - ... The people. Knowing that 'the people' is a nebulous, esoteric concept that encompasses millions of individuals with individual needs and wants."

It was the jingle-jangle of the bell over the pub's main door that really hammered home just how removed aspects of the town were from the rest of the modern world. Liana wasn't fond of the word quaint, finding it perhaps a little patronizing in intent, but despite all its fractures and recent pockets of disharmony, there was a strong community in New Cresthill, etched into the centuries-old brickwork and rooted in the soil that was slowly being surrendered in the name of progress. It struck her then that, no matter what a very vocal minority might think, the biggest threat to this place was a very typical human tenacity for digging one's heels in when fiercely guarding one's personal perspective. Internal bickering never proved advantageous; Alastair's commiseration was perfectly justified.

Opting for one of the booths near the window, specifically the one closest to the first so that she could bring herself to slip out of her coat, Liana sighed quietly as she took up her seat. "It would be naive to believe that any of this is truly over but I think we've earned the right to consider it managed for now. We've a busy year ahead in any case," she smiled warmly, "if a certain someone's aspirations are realised, at least. I'm looking forward to more time to rehearse," Liana admitted. "And the headspace to actually make it worthwhile."

"Mm. Legit," Al mused, removing his own dramatic black longcoat and putting it aside before joining Li in the small, intimate booth near the window. "Though I'd like to think it's not just my aspirations. I'm hoping you're looking forward and enjoying the process as well, even if the style of music isn't what you grew up with," Beat. "That reminds me, I've never really bothered to ask before, I think, much to my great shame. A love and appreciation for music was fed into you from a young age, until - the incident," there was no way to say those words in that context without it sounding ominous. "How are you feeling now about the whole idea to perform and put yourself in front of an audience, even if only through a studio recording if that's all we end up doing with this?"

His concern earned a soft smile. As far as incidents went, the end of her professional musical career had been little more than a fizzle; the pinch of damp fingers against a candle's wick to snuff it out. Certainly, there had been potential for catastrophe, or at least that had been the paranoia that had set in once her powers were leaked and her mutant status made her an instant pariah amongst the elite who snapped at any justification to step on each other to advance. Overall, however, the worst damage had been to Liana's own reputation, compounded significantly after her next move had been to disappear into Europe on a quest to find fresh ignorance. A lost career and a failed marriage, all within the same 12-months; it was quite a feat, if you wanted to think about it as such.

"I've managed a few charity events over the years," she reassured him, "And a school concert," she added with a laugh. "Hopefully I won't be too rusty."

"Mm," Al cocked his head a bit. That wasn't quite what he had meant, but if that was the thought that came to Li, that meant it was meaningful to her, which meant it was meaningful to him. That's how this 'romance' and 'supporting and loving each other' thing worked, right? .... Right? To be fair, he was not unaware of the cutthroat nature of classical music in sharp contrast to metal, which was mostly still a somewhat underground genre, where bands supported each other. Hell, there had been times where he lent out his guitar when Somnium Tenebris supporting act's guitarist had a malfunction their guitar tech couldn't solve. The band was there to put on a show for the audience. The audience was there to have a good time. There was no ego in metal. At least, that was the idealized version; there were of course plenty of metal artists with huge egos, but you could normally tell those from a mile away.

Only now did he realize he had been musing silently to himself for the last thirty seconds or so, and snapped back to reality and the excellent company that was there. "Sorry, mind wandered. Memories from a previous life, out touring."

One day, Liana might take the time to explain to Alastair that there was no need to apologise for letting his mind wander; watching him in those moments was something she was starting to cherish, that whimsical introspection that painted him somewhat as the brooding artist but mostly as a gentle, passionate thinker of extraordinary depth. Silence wasn't the enemy, quite the opposite, and just as had been the case during their weekend away, Liana was just as content to mind her own thoughts as they orbited around each other as she was talking well into the small hours. She smiled at the apology nevertheless and, reaching out to slip her hand over his, offered it a gentle squeeze. "Are you nervous?," she asked, her gaze trained on his for a reaction. "The world's a bit different now to when you first made a name for yourself."

He cocked his head a bit in contemplation, trying to find the right words to articulate his thoughts. She wasn't wrong, the world had changed. But the more things changed, the more they stayed the same, too. "I mean, the world is different. Politically. Socially. Musically. I know I'm different. Much more - ... politically extrovert. I care a lot less about needing to fit into a mold, into a box with a label others have put on it. And there's always a level of nerves when releasing any new music. But - am I nervous? No. Not really. This whole process feels a bit like slipping back into a comfortable set of pants you haven't worn for years and finding that - mostly - it still fits. I feel like I've come home, in a way that I've never felt before." he concluded, reaching a hand out to rest over hers, giving it a soft squeeze.

It was a response that deserved consideration. As much as she had downplayed his earlier concern, Liana was not blind to the fact that she was a long time removed from any sort of meaningful performance schedule. The occasional guest appearance on behalf of charity benefits was less about acknowledging the fledgingly reputation she'd built within her musical sphere and more a case of showcasing an employee's 'additional talents'. Those audiences had been appreciative but, overall, perhaps not particularly invested in the music itself nor likely to truly understand whether it was being interpreted well. As strange as it might sound, Liana would have preferred the scathing criticism of an informed patron over the empty platitudes of ignorance but she never wanted to reach a point where she denied access to her music based on familiarity. She played for whoever wanted to listen, but it had been a long time since there had been any real connection with an audience.

Alastair's response, therefore, provoked a twinge of melancholy, swiftly extinguished because she was far more invested in how the change was benefiting him than worrying about where she fit amongst it all. "Well, there you have it," she reassured. "That right there is all the reason I need to look forward to this, wherever it winds up taking us."

The two sat there in comfort, having their lunch and just talking. And, from time to time, not talking. They were comfortable enough in their own skin and with each other's company to understand that some times silence needn't be filled in, wasn't a bad thing. Soft smiles and loving glances exchanged as they just enjoyed the other's presence and aura. Eventually when there was discussion it invariably went to music - that being a passion for the both of them - and invariably Alastair would start waxing poetic about his vision for their project, Temple of Zhao. Talk of negative space, or harmonies and minor keys, of melody and countermelody, of sus chords, chord progressions, switching time signatures throughout a song and of building expectations in the melodies and subverting them by doing something else instead. Actual music theory, quite in-depth. Rather sophisticated for a self-taught street kid.

Eventually though, the time was there to head back to Graeme's garage to pick up Umbra and once again the topic of driving back to the institute came up. "I can understand if you're intimidated by the idea of driving Omen, but someone's gonna have to. I could ask Mhairi to, but then she'd need a ride back to town - though I'm sure she'd love seeing Cam again," he smirked. "If you'd rather drive Umbra that's fine too, she's a lot tamer than Omen."

The conversation over lunch had been so enjoyable, so distracting, that Liana had forgotten entirely about Alastair's offer. There had also been no opportunity for her to reflect on the fact that he now had two cars to return to the Institute, and it certainly hadn't occurred to Liana that the most obvious solution involved her taking the wheel of one of them. There was the slightest hesitation to her next step, a missed beat that didn't quite pull her up but did see her pace adjust a little as they made their way out the door and she found herself darting back and forth between the options and not finding any of them without some amount of concern.

Kindness pushed its way through the mess to rise to the surface, along with a measure of empathy and the understanding that this show of trust was significant enough that it deserved at least an attempt to honor it. Knowing how much this meant to Alastair, and the planning that had gone into it, Liana was very sure that involving her was not some whim born of limited choices and if this was an overture, an attempt to bring her further into his world, mustering up the bravery to at least give it a go seemed the least she could do.

"You should drive the new arrival, you've waited long enough to be able to. I...I can probably manage with Omen."

"Eh, you'll be fine," Alastair began. Li's nerves were easy enough to make out in her reply, and it was a bit of a balancing act to be casual yet supportive but not come across overbearing or overprotective. These were two of the most important presences in his life. Certainly in the top five. With Li on #1 of course. "Just - be gentle on the gas, keep her around three thousand, thirtyfive hundred RPM. That's where she's happiest. Above four thousand is where she'll bite your head off," he added with a smirk, aiming for a bit of humor, though he wasn't sure it had come across as such.

All of the instructions amounted to a general sense of go slow, which was honestly just fine with Liana but did bring up another matter that she felt obliged to point out as they approached the mechanic shop once more. "Are you coming straight back to the castle or should I wait an hour or two before sending out a search party?" A wry smile, partially masking residual nerves, was offered as partial encouragement. "And if you are going to resist the urge to go the long way, then you should probably got first so you don't get stuck behind me."

"I was very much wanting to put her through her paces, get a general feel of her personality," Al smiled, giving her hand a squeeze, thankful for the thoughtfulness of her question. "So probably be a while before I make it to the castle."

As much as she wasn't sure she was successful, Liana did her best to mask her relief. Alastair might have been putting his new wheels through her paces but his joyride would also provide ample time for Liana to wrangle Omen homewards-bound without the pressure of being followed, or having him wait at the other end to watch her negotiate the beast into its alotted parking space. It was a ridiculous thing to have stage jitters about, especially given their upcoming performance aspirations, but Liana was far more certain she knew how to point her violin in the right direction than she held any competence in driving a car like Omen at a speed any faster than snail's pace. The kiss she leaned up to steal was both understanding and thankful.

"Take your time."

"Yes'm," Al replied, though with a little skip in his step. There wasn't much that envoked this kind of childlike, pure joy in him, but getting to drive a car he'd been dreaming about for a few years now was one of them. Getting the blessing to do so (and a kiss to boot) from someone he still couldn't quite believe was his girlfriend was another.

Once at Graeme's Al headed inside to pay for services rendered - not a small amount - before coming back out. Graeme had told him that Mhairi had wanted to use the black shipping container Umbra had arrived in for storage, which suited Al just fine - saved him the trouble of trying to sell it to someone who would be able and willing to come pick it up. Wouldn't be much profit in it anyways, and he was more than happy to donate it to the garage for their use.

That done, Al tossed Li the keys to Omen, though it felt a bit uneasy to do. This was his pride and joy after all, in a material sense. One might argue whether his car or his guitar was his most prized posession, but one thing was certain, the guitar was much, much easier and cheaper to replace. It just held memories that were irreplacable that made it much more valuable to Al than the material value the instrument itself represented. Omen on the other hand - would cost an arm and a leg to replace. "Just take it easy and you'll be fine," he told her reassuringly. She would find that at low enough RPM Omen was actually quite polite in her behaviour. Eager, sharp ... but polite.

It was ridiculous, really. After weeks of being in charge of a school full of persecuted children, Liana realised she should have been very used to dredging confidence out of nothing. It wasn't that a car was in any way comparable to the lives of those around her, and she knew well enough that Alastair wouldn't think as much either, but it was difficult to compare the two when one was hopefully a thing of the past and the other was sitting right in front of her, waiting for her to slip into the driver's seat. Performance anxiety was an unfamiliar discomfort, Liana had never been particularly fearful of an audience in the past and yet now, as she approached Omen from the opposite side to her usual entry point, there was a distinct acceleration in her heartrate. For a moment, she simply sat, hands on the steering wheel, forcing her shoulders to relax through the slow inhalation of a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. Eventually, aware that Alastair probably wouldn't commence his own journey until she was safely out of the lot, Liana adjusted the seat, checked the mirrors and then set her posture to brace herself.

"Okay, madam, no arguments please."

Starting the engine provoked only the faintest wince. With a final wave, exuding every ounce of cheerful confidence she didn't feel, Liana eased her boyfriend's mistress out of the lot and pointed her in the direction of home.

Al's own departure from the garage was a mirror to Li's in everything but the detail of sitting in the car just taking it in for a moment before starting the engine. He sat for a moment, just enjoying the feel of the twenty-two year old seat. Only two years separated Omen from Umbra, but there was still a generational gap. Umbra's interior - with its roots in the late 1960s - held simpler shapes, the vinyl covering on the dash was just slightly more discolored by age and wear. Some minor cracks in the covering here and there, the chrome trim around the dials a little more weathered -

Ok, that was enough musing. With adrenaline starting to course through his veins he turned the key, the two-liter inline six - the same engine as in Omen (though stock, rather than boosted with aftermarket parts) snarled to life. It settled into a raspy idle as Al smiled, then grinned a broad grin. Hands caressed the steering wheel as he gentle placed his foot on the throttle. "Alright Umbra ... Let's see what you can do."

The squeel of tires almost overpowered the roar of the engine as Umbra peeled out of the lot, leaving two parralel tire marks on the tarmac.