Highway To Hell

[Benji]

It's a long ways from California to Illinois.

Rory had been contacted not long ago by one Kenneth Roger Underwood, an Attorney representing the estate of James Gordon, who had recently died in a tragic accident at a local putt putt golf course, along with his elderly mother. James, apparently, had left the bulk of his estate to Rory, a long lost relative who suddenly found himself almost in possession of very little liquid assets as well as an estate on some prime swampland full of something the Attorney called "collectible assets" that he was unable to go into more detail about over the phone.

It all seemed more than a little suspicious.

Logically then, it was something you should bring a little backup to when investigating.

Even in the relative comfort of a gently used Winnebago, it's something like 30 hours on the road and that's if you drove non-stop. The four not-so-strangers could afford to take the trip a little easy, and so two days into their trip the Cell found themselves in Las Vegas, New Mexico (pop. 13,691) seeking comfort and shelter in the arms of a roadside motel with all the amenities you would come to expect from a mid-priced motel, like free internet (password: GUEST1), a pool that has been closed up for the season, working bathroom plumbing, genuine magic finger vibrating beds and a whole host of take out menus in the lobby, allowing guests to decide what they want to order from where they want to order it and have it delivered right to their room.

And that was exactly the conundrum the Cell faced at this moment.

[Rory]

"The Solid Waste Amnesty Day has been postponed."

Looks like one of the 'menus' wasn't a menu, but a public service announcement. Rory flipped it around and used a thick finger to point out the information to everyone else.

"Mighty fine news for a town that once hosted the likes of Jesse James and Billy the Kid. And... Big... Nose... Kate." Rory was a not-so-secret history geek. And if his light brogue doing a terrible John Wayne was any indication, utterly fascinated by the Who's Who of Western villainy the town had seen. He was assuming Big Nose Kate was a villain. "I like the sound of Hillcrest Restaurant and Trading Post Saloon. They deliver and it would be criminal to just order KFC instead of giving the local flavor a go, ay?"

He shrugged and glanced at his companions. A motley crew for certain, with Tal the one he knew best and steady like a rock (the non-monster sort). Misty, whose rode-hard-and-put-up-wet impression was a constant reminder of his own sheltered life. And Ursula, who dredged up memories of Alexis Kane.

Rory flipped the pamphlets down and put his hands in his pockets.

"But I'm fine with majority rule?"

[Tal]

"You could always just shave your head," Tal suggested from the table wedged into the corner of the room. The disassembled parts of her Beretta glinting softly in the yellow stained light, freshly oiled.

Normally, Tal wouldn't have subjected her cell to the smell of gun oil all night, but as soon as Ursula lit up, Tal had just shrugged and gotten her cleaning kit. It was a better solution than trying to argue with a woman that would have made her own disney namesake cringe.

"Either way, I don't really have an opinion," she added, finishing her rub down of the last piece of her gun before she set it next to the others on the cloth.

"About where we should get food. I definitely think you should shave, Ursula."

There was definitely a small smile tugging at the corners of Tal's mouth.

[Misty Shore]

Misty Shore snickered, snapping back to life with a wicked grin. One hand jerked upward and raked through her hair. Her eyes bounced wildly around before settling onto Rory.

"Saloon? Like, real wild rest saloon? Ooooh! OOOH! Yeah. Sure, honey. I still got the..." A pause. "Ehm. That is to say, yes, I'm hungry."

The crazy ass grin added volumes and whole vista's of alternate context for that statement.

"And I need a stretch. And a cigarette. And... And... Um? Food."

The lean woman blinked and bobbed her head before she managed to reign in her mindless babble.

"And then we can go clubbing." Nod.

Seriously, one has to wonder how much lucidity this burned out actress has left. The way she said that you'd think we were in downtown San Diego, Las Vegas in Nevada or the corrupt glittering jewel of L.A. itself. Did small towns in the desert even do clubs?

[Benji]

Upon examination of the assorted pamphlets it seems that Las Vegas, New Mexico does indeed have clubs... if you're willing to set your bar low enough to include bars with the occasional local live band that hasn't made it yet. The Hillcrest Restaurant and Trading Post Saloon, El Rialto Restaurant & Lounge, The Old Town Drafthouse and Borracho's Craft Booze & Brews all qualify to one degree or another.

It seems that if the locals want to go actual clubbing, like civilized people, they need to make the drive over to Santa Fe.

[Rory]

"Are we staying in or going out? For food, I mean. I'll pass on the... clubbing."

He'd never minded a bar, but clubbing was as alien of behavior to him as the mysteries of women's hair, dye, and roots. Dancing was something his body refused to do, which left him blankly staring at a sea of bodies or a bartender -- and anyone that knew him was well aware that hair grooming was the furthest thing from his mind.

"I may walk around a bit, though, either way. Stretch my legs. We might even be able to walk to The Trading Post?"

He gave Tal's Beretta pieces a look. Even if they ordered in, they'd probably need to cover those if she hadn't done whatever needed to be done to reassemble it.

"First rounds on me, yeah? To thank you all for coming with. Anyone give up anything interesting to come?"

[Tal]

Tal just shook her head, but the small smile was still there. It was safe to say that she'd never met people like Misty and Ursula before, and though she had probably been fortunate in that regard, she was glad that she knew them know.

It was easy to get lost in the world. To be consumed by the struggle to change that which could not be, and to be smothered by all the failures to change that which could be. In some ways, it was a life saver to be around people that treated everything as one never ending party. In other ways...

Well, Tal wasn't going to focus on them now.

Instead she just began putting her pistol back together, her hands moving through endlessly practiced motions until the firearm was whole again. She gave it a quick check, made sure the safety was on, and then slid a clip home and grabbed her IWB holster.

"I'll be the designated if you want, Rory," she offered, grabbing up a beige denim jacket and slipping it on before she put on the holster and made sure it was covered up.

"And you know that hair only gets courser the more you shave it, right?" she asked as a parting shot as she walked past Ursula.

[Misty Shore]

"I have a shaver?" Misty had to think about that. "Oooh! Ooooh! Yes. Not sure if its in my bag. Or my other bag. But come on! Don't tell me they don't have, like, hygene, and stuff, out here. Way out here. Waaay. Waay out here. Where are we again? Someone say Vegas. I know some people in Vegas. Know... <<snicker>> Looks kinda small for Vegas."

A pause.

"Are we going out. We totally are!" Misty snapped back to the present. "Coyote Ugly. Ha! That sounds like a plan."

The pieces belatedly fall into place.

"Yeah. Lets walk there. I mean, exercise! We need exercise. And, like, to get an appetite." She looked about. "Place is kinda small. We could walk there. And back. Easy. And if Rory here is buying..." Misty let the words hang, the look on her face telling all what was going through her vapid mind.

"What was I doing. Not much. I think I had a house but there was definitely a squat. No! Wait! A hotel. And not much to do. Kinda boring now that I'm old hat with inductions. I think I'm supposed to do something about that? Am I? Brucie didn't say anything last time we spoke."

Lost in her recollections she appeared to ignore Tal. In fact she seemed to ignore everyone till it looked like she might be left, standing absurdly alone, in the motel lobby.