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As Nienna walked away to thee kitchens she stood up and walked back to the tavern and heard Wes' voice booming inside. Then she saw the girl who had asked the question about the phone booth that she had barley understood from being so fat away. She walked right up behind the girl and asked " Kid did i hear you correctly or am I going crazy when i heard you asking about how to find the phone booth?"

Thorn let out a sigh " No there nothing wrong I just haven't heard someone say that they were going to try and fine that stupid thing well since I went to look for it a few years ago." she said and continued " I guess you didn't hear all of Wes' story if you going to go look for that thing. Most of the scars that I myself have and from trying to look form that thing and being attacked by various things and barley escaping but if you want to learn the hard way go ahead and look for that thing." She went over and took up the seat she had left before and ordered a drink.

As Cam was dozing off, an idea struck him.
He quickly woke up, leaving the knife in the floor, and headed downstairs. He reached for his pocket as he went down the stairs, pulling out a lighter and flicking it on and off.
He finally reached the group, and kept the lighter off. "Wes?" he said casually, waiting off to the side. Sure enough, his name was gone from the bar. That might throw a wrench into his plans...

She's going to get hurt Thorn thought to herself and stood up and walked over to Cam and Wes. " May I?" she asked and without waiting for an answer she grabbed a cigarette from the pack took the lighter once she had lit her cigarette she handed the lighter back to Cam and headed out the south doors in the direction of where they had just recently fought a battle. She knew that the dreamer would still be around there some where but went anyway not consciously knowing where exactly she was going.

"I dont smoke" Cam said quickly, seeing Wes take out the cigarettes. "I think you've been here longest, so I have question. You said any damage to that bar would be repaired as soon as you left. Would this count if I remove a plank from it?" he asked casually, sliding the lighter away.

Willhelm awoke, head burning with pain. He sat up quickly but could not make out his surroundings, the pain in his temples blinding him. Reaching out he realised he was in a bed. "Where am I?" he groaned, holding his head between his hands.

Slowly his vision came back and he stared at the strange room he had just woken up in. He jumped out of the bed and looked around confused. The bed was draped in a gaudy flowered sheet with a matching blanket. Above him a length of glass attached to the ceiling hummed and glowed faintly in the bright light cascading through the open curtains, which also matched the sheets. His hat hung on the curtain rail and he took it down. Putting it on he continued to inspect the room. His sword lay against a chest of drawers beside his bed. H elooked through the drawers and found his belt, his guns and his bible, nothing else of his could be found. He put on his belt and holstered his guns, hiding them under his long coat. After deciding that the sword would make it impossible to remain inconspicuous he slid it under the bed and left the room.

In the hall his confusion grew as more tubes of glass hummed and glowed above him, brighter now as there were no windows to drown out the light emanating from them. The doors were all painted the same colour and were all adourned with a number beginning with a three. This much he understood. Third floor... he thought, making his way to the staircase.

Downstairs he found himself in a bar with a few strangely dressed youths.
"What the Hell is going on here?" he asked loud enough for everyone to hear, all the while easing his right hand under the left side of his coat letting it rest on the pistol hanging at his hip. He wasn't as fast as he used to be and he didn't want to be caught off guard by anyone.

Iris blinked. This kid was bizarre. But still, he was a darling.

"Of course you wouldn't be in the way," she said, ruffling his hair a bit. "We can leave right now if you're ready."

She turned and squinted out at the landscape ahead of them, anticipating the start of her journey.

Willhem smiled, accepting the cigarette with his free hand, he felt he could trust the young man but kept his hand on his pistol just in case. "Thanks, whiskey sounds good right about now." He lit the cigarette with matches he saw lying beside an ashtray on a nearby table and leaned on the bar, remaining standing, he knew if he sat the second it would take to stand back up could be the difference between life and death. The man looked young, no older than twenty, but his eyes showed a wisdom that only came from experience, Willhelm rarely trusted such a person, experience may give him a challenge.

"I've got two questions before we begin," he said, taking a drag of the cigarette, "Where am I? What's with the clothes?" He lay his hat on the table and took another drag of the cigarette.