January 19th, 2011
I've never been to Vegas before. It's otherworldly. Palm trees and desert and the most beautiful sunrises. Now I see what the Killers are always singing about.
I took my time doing so, but I finally got into town and was told to go wait at some diner. Larry's, I think? I took Nevermore in with me because he seems to have abandonment issues and won't let me leave him outside. Thankfully no one seemed to think it was too weird. I sat at the counter, ordered onion rings. There wasn't too much going on when I got there. Truckers and transvestites, and a huge guy who was cool enough to wear his sunglasses at night.
Some old guy walked in, called me and two other people to him in a booth. He talked like a good ol' boy. Handed me and the other kids metal pins. Mine was shaped like the sun. I tried not to be too obvious in sizing the other guys up, but I wanted to know how likely they were to get me killed. They both seem intelligent and on the level, though. We're supposed to go to a hotel and play watchdogs.
On the way out, I stopped and took a good look at my waitress, Fern. She seemed too tired, even for this job. Something about the smell of her, the flecks in her eyes, the sound of her breath told me she was quite ill. Spots in the air around her, growing bigger than they should.
Cancer, probably. That seems to be my own personal Lupus.
She didn't believe me, at first. Sometimes they don't.
I've begun publishing unfinished entries as a way of allowing readers to preview the entries which are yet to come. Also, the dates don't mean anything as far as actual in-game chronology goes.
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