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Oct. 21st, 2017 09:45 pmThe sunset looks like a fresh crime scene; the killer's run off and left the sky torn open, its blood-red guts spilling out and blotching out the gentler hues of the Vegas sky. It's pretty, but it's also a little foreboding.
Lloyd doesn't think too hard about it, watching the sunset from behind the dim filter of his mirror sunglasses. It's sort of entrancing, and after the long, hard day he's had, he can't think of a better way to spend his time than drinking a cold beer and watching a pretty, if deadly, sunset.
Well, it'd be extra nice if he had a pretty girl under his arm to go with it, but he hasn't lucked out that much.
Instead, his gaze falls on someone he hasn't seen around town before. It's hard to look out of place in Las Vegas, where ancient Egypt lives in tacky harmony with the Eiffel Tower even now that the world's ended, but this guy is managing it. He looks like he just fell out of a museum painting, with curly hair and a pale, delicate face. Huh. For a moment, Lloyd considers it might be a desert mirage, but then he figures that even if the sun had struck him hard enough to make him hallucinate, he'd be seeing an oasis or maybe a nude mermaid with a coke, and not conjuring marble-faced dudes out of thin air.
"Hey, you," Lloyd doesn't raise his voice as he calls out to the guy, but he has no trouble catching his attention. Perks of management, maybe. "C'mere." He motions him over to where he's leaned back against the bar.
Lloyd doesn't think too hard about it, watching the sunset from behind the dim filter of his mirror sunglasses. It's sort of entrancing, and after the long, hard day he's had, he can't think of a better way to spend his time than drinking a cold beer and watching a pretty, if deadly, sunset.
Well, it'd be extra nice if he had a pretty girl under his arm to go with it, but he hasn't lucked out that much.
Instead, his gaze falls on someone he hasn't seen around town before. It's hard to look out of place in Las Vegas, where ancient Egypt lives in tacky harmony with the Eiffel Tower even now that the world's ended, but this guy is managing it. He looks like he just fell out of a museum painting, with curly hair and a pale, delicate face. Huh. For a moment, Lloyd considers it might be a desert mirage, but then he figures that even if the sun had struck him hard enough to make him hallucinate, he'd be seeing an oasis or maybe a nude mermaid with a coke, and not conjuring marble-faced dudes out of thin air.
"Hey, you," Lloyd doesn't raise his voice as he calls out to the guy, but he has no trouble catching his attention. Perks of management, maybe. "C'mere." He motions him over to where he's leaned back against the bar.
