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 Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 9:13 am
((Enter C.J. Benoit from somewhere else)) Down below in front of the abandoned hotel stood a young man. About early twenties. He leaned on the side of his '67 El Camino . . . in crude lettering on the side of the gray pickup this message was scrawled. Have Guitar, Will Travel This was C.J. Benoit. Ex-moonshiner, currently a musician . . . and a broke one at that. He looked up at the hotel. Goddamn, that b*****d told me this place was still open! he thought. Well, so much for a room for cheap. He looked around. Perhaps he could get in, but was it worth it?
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 10:47 am
Benoit pressed on the door a little bit, opening it a crack, as far as it would go and ducked under the board that had "this building is condemned" written on it. He grabbed his guitar case and duffel bag and walked in what looked like was the lobby from way back when. "Hello?" C.J. asked. "Anybody home?"
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 10:54 am
For what it was worth, there was no sign that anyone else was there. Or...had been there for years.
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 11:00 am
C.J. looked around. Huh . . . maybe I'm in the wrong side of town. he thought, brushing some cobwebs away from a chair, he sat down, pulling out his guitar. Looking around, he chuckled a little bit. "A few cameras an' this would make a great Tom Waits music video." he said to himself, tuning the guitar up.
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 11:04 am
As he was tuning, something in the hallway leading to the stairs flickered.
The building was supposed to remain quiet and empty, giving the impression that there truely was no one living there. But...if there was too much racket, the building was supposed to "remove" the invader as inconspicuously as possible. No attention was to be drawn to the hotel.
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 11:08 am
C.J. looked at the flickering light. What the hell? he thought. This was getting creepier and creepier by the moment. He shrugged, assuming that it was just a lightbulb left on. Then again, he wasn't sure how long ago was the last time they payed the electrical bill.
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 11:18 am
The strumming continued, and the source didn't come to the hall to investigate. The magical security switched into the next level.
Part of the ceiling began crumbling close to where the man was. A tile or two broke off of the wall and crumbled to pieces on the ground.
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 11:22 am
The strumming stopped. C.J. looked up at the ceiling. He started backing towards the door, getting his stuff. Holy crap . . . this CAN'T be good! he thought, keeping his head protected. If he could just get out to his car before the building crashed around him. "Okay okay. I'm sorry I snuck in. I'll be leavin' now." he said, trying to reason with the source of the trouble, thinking it was a malevolent spirit. He slid out of the hotel and out to his car, a little surprised.
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 11:30 am
"Heh." a voice chuckled from atop the man's car. Vice sat on the roof of the car, leaning on his knees while his boots were propped over the hood of the car. He grinned down at the man with his arms crossed. "Weren't quiet enough for the ghosts, eh?"
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 11:39 am
C.J. looked up at the guy who was making his car his neat little perch with a funny look. "Ghosts? In there?" he said, an eyebrow raised. He just wanted a place to stay.
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 11:48 am
Vice nodded. "They tend to kick the noisy buggers out." he replied. "No one's tried to go in there after they found a group of partiers crushed under the bar ceiling beams."
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 11:50 am
C.J. whistled a little bit. "Sounds like a rough break . . . wait, who are you, and how'd you wind up on my car?" he asked. He was a little surprised, especially because he wasn't up there when he went in.
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 11:53 am
"Names Vice. And I got tired of walking, so I just found myself a seat. Don't worry, boot prints should come right off." he replied, glancing down at the hood.
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 12:07 pm
"Nice t' meetcha, Vice. Don't worry about the boots, I do that all the time." he said. There were a couple times where he couldn't get a gig, that truck bed made for an impromptu stage at least four times on the tour that led him here, including tonight. Where he only got about thirty bucks and a can of soda.
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 12:14 pm
"So were you just looking for a new stage or something" he asked, motioning towards the man's strings.
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