Diego hates few things more than the exceptionally mundane parts of existing in the world. He's done it for more years than he cares to count, and in that time he's grown used to it, but it doesn't make it all any less of a hassle to deal with. Grocery shopping. Not his favorite chore in the world, but Allison had insisted. Five was...who-knew-where, Klaus and Ben both barely exist in the Hargreeves House for the moment, and Luther was at work. "I am one person, and this is a four-to-six person house, Diego. You're helping me." Somehow, even without her voice, Allison has a way of making the kind of command out of a person that leaves no room for argument. Diego wasn't happy about it, but she had a point, so he begrudgingly gets proper clothes on and heads out the door at Allison's side.
"You know, you could try saying 'please' next time." He lobs the teasing quip at her as they make their way down the street in the direction of the closest market store. They're hardly a handful of blocks from the house when a swarm of voices is easily heard, questions bombarded on someone and if he had enough of a heart to care, Diego might feel sorry for the person. The way people in this city travel like schools of sharks seeking new, unsuspecting imPort prey is sickening and echoes too much of a time long-since pushed to his past.
But there's a distinct static kind of feeling in the air, like the moment before a huge storm hits, and street lights are creaking and twisting in the middle of the crowd huddled around--
"Vanya?" There's nothing else out of his mouth, and only one slight, blink-and-its-missed glance and nod in Allison's direction before he takes off in the direction of their sister. He doesn't have to say anything and he knows it-- she'll get Vanya, he'll deal with anyone else too eager to take the clear warning signs around them for what they are.
{Every streetlamp seems to beat a fatalistic warning » Vanya/Diego/Allison
"You know, you could try saying 'please' next time." He lobs the teasing quip at her as they make their way down the street in the direction of the closest market store. They're hardly a handful of blocks from the house when a swarm of voices is easily heard, questions bombarded on someone and if he had enough of a heart to care, Diego might feel sorry for the person. The way people in this city travel like schools of sharks seeking new, unsuspecting imPort prey is sickening and echoes too much of a time long-since pushed to his past.
But there's a distinct static kind of feeling in the air, like the moment before a huge storm hits, and street lights are creaking and twisting in the middle of the crowd huddled around--
"Vanya?" There's nothing else out of his mouth, and only one slight, blink-and-its-missed glance and nod in Allison's direction before he takes off in the direction of their sister. He doesn't have to say anything and he knows it-- she'll get Vanya, he'll deal with anyone else too eager to take the clear warning signs around them for what they are.