[Mission] Food Delivery

[Asunara Wisdom]

MOD - Truck Driver Smith

Hey. It's a dark night, kinda cold, but no matter. Your name is  Westley Walters-Kirkland, but that won't matter tonight. Tonight, all that matters is getting this delivery on time. Unfortunately, the truck broke down, and it's quite a distance. Truck driver Jonathan Smith has no intentions of leaving his truck alone, granted that the docks aren't the safest place to be. There is no option to leave the truck alone. After all, at this time of night, a vehicle left alone by the docks is a gone vehicle, surely.

So he sees you walking by, for whatever reason. Why are you out at night so late, Mister Steilsson? Well that doesn't matter. Smith wouldn't care anyways. He simply can not allow himself to leave his beloved truck (and source of income at that), but the delivery has to get done. He's phoned for a vehicle repairman, but it will take a while before the tow truck could come along.

"Oi, you," Smith yells out, motioning at you to come over to the truck. "Come over here. Would you be a lad and help a mate? I'll be able to compensate you, but I really need help."

2 February, 2015
21:30:00
London City Docks
Dock #21

[Westley Walters-Kirkland]

Wes tugged his arms inside his sweater and clasped them together over his stomach, shivering a little in the chill but not cold enough to abandon his night stroll. He had been studying for a while, family distracting him from his usual regimen of work, study, sleep, and repeat. Gradually he fell behind, and was grasping at straws to try to catch up before the end of the semester. There was no way that he could shave hours off of work, they were down to the bones already and instant noodles seemed to be making him sick at the mere sight. This left him with one option, lade night cramming and the scramble to stay awake for a few hours longer than usual.

The night chill sobered him up from his fatigued daze, and simply sitting in front of his window not being enough he had decided to take a walk, a horridly long walk through the city and on some buses to wherever his wanderlust took him. It was the lights that likely were the reason he was led off to Canary Wharf, something that could still hold his attention for hours on end.

There was no suspicion on his face as he wandered over towards the man that called him, curiosity lighting up his eyes as he surveyed the scene set before him. He was no expert on cars, his Mum didn't drive and he had never been behind a wheel before, yet the scent in the air was surely not one that was the norm. "Trouble?" he asked, slipping his arms out from his sleeves as he approached, "what do you need help with Sir?" The thought of compensation made his eyes light up, it was getting closer to Christmas and he desperately needed to get Kyle some sort of gift in time. Most importantly it had to be a perfect gift, one that would up anything the Australian gave. It wasn't like he needed to get his Mum another present, the one he had gotten her was already more than he could have ever hoped for. "What do you need me to do?"

[Asunara Wisdom]

MOD - Truck Driver Smith

You're an eager fellow, aren't you? Desperate to find work, hopefully to get Mumsy or a dear friend something special? Aren't we all? Heh, Smith wouldn't even be working as a truck driver if he had the choice. Mumsy needs a new pair of warm socks every now and then, and it's nice to treat her out once in a while.

Smith reaches into his pocket and takes out a box of cigarettes. He opens it, takes a cigarette out, puts it between his lips, and lights it. He exhales a puff of smoke.

"It's nothing complicated. Just can't leave the truck, but it's not too far. I have a peculiar delivery to make. Only problem is Beauty here's not feeling too pretty, a bit under the weather. Can't leave her here either. You know how dangerous the Docklands are if you don't keep a close eye," Smith says, crossing his arms as he exhales another breath of smoke.

"I've phoned the repairmen to come out here to work on her, but I really need this delivered to what seems to be a warehouse. Warehouse #15HW84TW. First number is the dock number. Not sure why they want just one lobster dinner delivered there. Maybe the guards are hungry or having a get-together on the job. Huh. Well, it's none of my business, and none of yours. Just deliver this dinner, collect the payment, and hand the payment to me. You can keep the tip."

Smith hands you a plastic bag containing two steaming hot lobsters, two containers of rice, two containers of mashed potato, a container of gravy, several napkins, and five pairs of utensils.

"You get those delivered, I'll compensate you," Smith said, exhaling another cloud of cigarette smoke. "Just be careful. The Docklands aren't forgiving."

2 February, 2015
21:32:00
London City Docks
Dock #21

[Westley Walters-Kirkland]

The teenager gave a slight nod at his words, running his fingers back nervously through his hair as he evaluated the task being given. It hardly seemed to be a tasking ordeal, just a simple delivery to a predetermined point and back to pick up his reward. And it wasn't anything suspicious, just dinner, he could hardly see why the driver saw fit to warn him in such an ominous way. If he had been a more paranoid person he would most certainly be worried sick, but any fears that the Kiwi held were quelled within moments. Westley wanted to get Kyle a marvelous gift, and that yearning trumped any irrational fears brought on by shady truck delivery men.

"Number 15HW84TW" he repeated once, before starting to chant it under his breath every few moments so that he wouldn't forget it. And then, with a cheery incline of his head to the delivery man he stepped off towards the nearby cluster of grim industrial buildings. 15HW84TW..." the Kiwi murmured, pressing his nose into his shoulder for a moment to rub away the feeling of it running like a faucet. He really should have brought a scarf with him, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Heading off home just for a simple piece of clothing was certainly a tremendous waste of time, and the food would be long cold by then. It was a task offered up to him and he would most certainly complete it! For Kyle's sake if not for simply his own satisfaction at having done something significant.

"15HW8...." his eyes scanned the plates on the side of each warehouse he slowly drifted past, nearly ten minutes passing until he started to reach a sequence that started to sound familiar. Ignoring any sounds about him he turned down the alley, the weight of the bag's contents stretching the handles taut over his fingers. "81.....82..."