It seemed like a good idea at the time...

[maddeninghatter]

Date & Time: 2698, fin-de-millenium, just prior to the formation of the United Earth
Location: Las Vegas
Characters: Break, Kevin, Gilbert, Oz, Elliot, Alice, Allen, Lenalee, Rosette, Chrono, Chrysos
Summary: Fear and loathing
Warnings: Showgirls and Gilbert weeping.

The statement “Let’s go to Vegas” exists as the multiverse’s quintessential definition of, “well it seemed like a good idea at the time.” Even in this case, it really had, between zombies, insurrection, and the day to day tedium of life on the moon. Besides which, Xerxes Break has a new sentient (sentient-er) weapon, which in a stunning show of good judgement is too dangerous to test on the moonbase, nor in any concentration of people. Las Vegas, set against the backdrop of the vast, desolate Mojave desert, seemed to be a perfect choice.

When our heroes wink into existence, squinting against the early-morning desert sunshine, they’ll find themselves duly welcomed. Come play in the casino. When you feel a bit peckish, indulge in all you can eat. Take your winnings and go shopping; at night, take in a show. And if you’ve done really well gambling, unwind in a ridiculously luxurious suite.

…or is this how you’re spending the night?

Thirty-six hours in Vegas, what could possibly go wrong?

(ooc: feel free to start threads willy-nilly, name your time and place, threadjack and mingle)

Comments

[soul_sister]

[It's enough to make her fret. Maybe if they went slowly back, taking a long way around. They still might have to abandon the car and walk some distance, but she could get them much, much closer... The trouble was... do we even have any healers on this mission? Maybe Kevin ...

In the mean time, she rubs at the side of her face, thoughtfully. What had Oz called it... Chains, right?]

I guess that means he's not your Chain. I'd kind of wondered.

[retraced]

He - who, Break?

[He frowns again, that vacant expression taking back over his face.]

No, of course he's not...he's a Contractor. If he told you otherwise then he was lying.

[soul_sister]

No! He hasn't mentioned it at all.

It's just... he acts a bit like one.

[Maybe a lot. But then, she tends to have a particularly positive view of demons, for the most part...]

[retraced]

Well, it's true that he's...a bit strange.

[No arguments there.]

It's just the way he is.

[soul_sister]

Mm. That's fine.

I like him even if he's a stupid idiot.

[With that, she turns around and starts the car up again.]

[retraced]

[Had the situation been less tense, Gilbert might have even let himself laugh at her words. They sum up pretty much every relationship that Break has with anyone who can stand to be around him.

He settles back into his seat, but doesn't think to put on a seat belt. Instead, he busies himself with propping Break's unconscious body up a little more comfortably in the seat next to his.]

[maddeninghatter]

[ He is duly propped up, though his head lolls forwards. But as soon as the car starts moving, he slides right back over again, slumping against Gilbert's shoulder. ]

Snnnnnxxxxxx....

[ It's somewhere between a groan and a snore. ]

[soul_sister]

[In the mean time, the drive is.. surprisingly sedate. She takes her time, avoiding the busier roads and triangulates back towards the Strip.]

Do you think you can carry him?

[retraced]

I'm sure I can.

[He answers with a groan, clearly speaking from experience here. As soon as Break slumps over onto him, he leans away far enough that he can focus on whether or not he's drooling on him.]

[soul_sister]

We'll park a little ways off then.




Maybe pretend he was drunk? .... and in a fight...

He lost.

[retraced]

But he doesn't have any bruises. His clothes aren't even messed up. Not to mention that he doesn't smell like alcohol at all...

[What he fails to mention is that this isn't an invitation for her to create any of these scenarios. Just stating the facts.]

[soul_sister]

[At the stop light, she looks back, scandalized.]

I'm not going to bruise him!

...

Take off your jacket.

[retraced]

--Huh

[Rosette what is this plan that you're concocting.]

What are you going to do with it?

[soul_sister]

Nothing! Why would I want it?

Put it on him! On him! It'll look way more hobo-y on him.

[In the mean time, she spots her next target... She signals to pull into a bar parking lot.]

[retraced]

What do you mean - hobo-y?!

[But he's still taking it off draping it over Break's shoulders, carefully threading each of his arms through the sleeves. As expected, it looks ready to swallow him in comparison to his tiny size.]

[soul_sister]

Exactly that! I mean look at him now! It's prime hobo material!

[She pulls into a sharp stop at the bar. It boasts GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS!!! and BUDWEISER.]

Now get something alcoholic! That'll be good enough for a disguise.

[retraced]

[He grumbles something about this being a terrible idea as he slides across his seat to open the door, making sure that Break is propped up well enough in his own seat first. So it takes him a second or two to register the sign on the outside of the bar.]

- W-what is this place?!

[soul_sister]

It's a place for alcohol! I'm not going in!

So that means its you.

[She crosses her arms and sets her jaw.]

[retraced]

They why does it say girls?!

[Not just once, but several times!]

[soul_sister]

...

Maybe it's the name?

[It sounds like even she doesn't believe it.]

[retraced]

I have a feeling it's definitely not the name...!

[You're not fooling anyone, Rosette. Not even Gilbert.]

[soul_sister]

Well I'm not going into a den of ill repute! Alcohol isn't even legal where I'm from!

[retraced]

What makes you think I'm okay with going in there?!

[Gilbert Nightray: the very antithesis of "manning up".]

[soul_sister]

Don't make me come back there!

[She slams her hand down on the dash... just so happening to mash a few of the fancy future car buttons.]

[retraced]

[Why why why does that button exist.

Click goes the button, whoosh goes the car door and out Gilbert goes, ejected right out of the damned car where he's deposited into the sand right in front of the door.

And as another satisfied customer opens the door and steps right on his head as he strolls past on his way to his car, it becomes the new worst day of Gilbert's life.]