Is it Still Theft if it Runs Better Afterwards?

He finally felt (more or less) recovered from his boring, literally nauseating oceanic voyage. He was rehydrated (as much as someone literally made of water in their base form can ever be dehydrated), he was going to class again, he had adjusted to at least the most immediate oddities of his new city -

and he had just seen the most gorgeous car OH GOD YES!

He couldn't just run up to it and adore it, though. No, he knew the game. If he wanted to go cruising, he had to not get yelled at until he was at least rolling. And in an amazing, beautiful roadster like the classic british racing green beauty like he was eyeing, he didn't want to be rushed. It was old, and though it seemed to be mostly maintained old cars always ran better with a little internal shimmying. Clear out the debris and gunk and all that, realign everything that had shifted or shrunk or stretched with time.

Mason Rhodes might have been addicted to driving cars he didn't own (or even had a license for, given the whole bit where he couldn't really be in a vehicle without possessing it and until recently he'd been in a place that did not recognize vehicular possession as a valid method of driving), but he was very, very careful with the cars he used. He might not fill them up with gas (or diesel, or electricity, depending on the car) but he did leave them in much better running condition than when he found them.

And now, since it had rained earlier, no one noticed the large puddle slowly easing across the road. A car occasionally drove through him, but hey, he was water. All he had to do was gather himself together again and keep moving. He collected himself beneath the car for a moment, resting and watching to be sure he wasn't being watched, and then touched the nearest tire. The puddle vanished, and the mga slowly rumbled to life. It was a roadster, not a muscle car, and it wasn't loud, but it definitely needed some tuning. Mason took a few minutes at idle, shifting and stretching and sorting himself out, and then on went the lights and into the flow of traffic he went.

@"King"

It was a wonderful day for cruising. Just rolling down the street, playing some tunes on the gorgeous old car's upgraded sound system (upgraded as in actually had a radio deck and a pair of speakers), occasionally revving his engine enticingly at hotties. It was Manta Carlos on a wonderful, late summer day; of course there were hotties around. Mason only had to play it cool when sex was actually a possibility.

and then SUDDENLY PAIN

SO MUCH PAIN

He was in such extreme and unexpected agony that for a few moments he couldn't disengage from the car, and was just suspended in shattered, blackened shock. His windshield was cracked, hence the shattered haze, and he just.... hurt.

The puddle finally splashed down to the concrete underneath the slaughtered car, and shook faintly for a few moments before creeping out into the open. It took a lot of effort to reform into his human shape, and even then he was shaky and weak-kneed. He leaned on the car for support, and finally saw what it was that had collided with him.

"What is going on?" he said shakily, unable to spare a hand to hold his aching head. He wasn't bleeding, thanks to the oddities of his shifting and possession talents, but the pain lingered.

@"King"

Mason stayed staring at the woman stuck in the hood of the car that had recently been him. Y'know, it was a miracle his head didn't hurt more. It still hurt a lot.

Was she dead? This was the island of magical weirdos, after all. He possessed vehicles. Surely there were people who could survive a crash like that. On the other hand.... surely there were people would couldn't. He leaned a little bit closer.

She didn't seem to be moving..... and Mason was no paramedic. He saw some blood and he really didn't want to look closer. He swallowed, then carefully reached out and poked the woman's shoulder.

"Uh.... are you alive?"

@"King"

Mason scrambled away from the car and fell on his ass, very nearly turning to water in shock. He caught himself in time, though, and hauled himself up again to hear the weirdly hard-shouldered woman's words. Well, if she weren't super hard then she probably wouldn't've been alive.

"Do you need an ambulance or anything?" he asked hesitantly. "I mean. You might be alive but you're kind of.... squished in there."

Wait, if someone called 911 - wait, people probably already had - if he was still here when they showed up, then he'd get arrested for stealing - wait, no, no one would be able to prove he'd been possessing it. Probably. He was just a bystander, he'd just come to see if she was okay. Right. Yes. That was a good alibi.

@"King"

"Your spine being shattered isn't a big deal?"

Actually, Mason could kind of relate to that. "I just turn to water when I hit stuff. Uh. Are you fixing it yourself or do you need to go to the hospital anyway? Or both?"

There was so much variety here. "And, uh, does whatever made you go flying like that have insurance? Because this was a really nice car."