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[ weatherford, tx ][7:50]

He had, of course, changed the station, just as she commanded. Peyton liked to be in charge until that small measure of control was taken away. And the moments he could take it away were great. He grinned. They were running a little behind (or they would be, if they'd had a destination). Horace couldn't let anything be one-sided, of course, but he needed two hands and possibly a mouth for that, so he'd pulled over for a bit. And a bit had turned into a while and well, the sun was down and here they were, in sleepy Weatherford.

The heater on the car hummed, a sleepy noise and he glanced over to Peyton, hand once again going to her thigh. He blinked. Something was in the road. "What the <********> He turned the high-beams on, illuminating several peacocks that stalked across the road. He beeped the horn and they glared, but did not move. He was gonna have to get out and shoo them. Ugh. He took out his phone and snapchatted the damn things to a couple people with the caption "Happy nye. there's cocks in the road"



[ fort worth, tx ][9:45]

Texas Christian University, know affectionately as Texas Construction University and "land of flip-flops and sluts". He pulled up the map on his phone and flashed it to Pey. "You pick - a frat house or a bar. All the bars are country, though." If they went to a frat party, there'd be TCU's hideous purple drink... grape kool-aid with any and every alcohol thrown in. While she looked his hand slipped around to massage the nape of her neck. He was a normal, small-town boy, but Pey.. Pey wasn't. Without her, he'd be likely playing some video game, not noticing as the time clicked down.

Beejouxx

[ La Crosse, Wisconsin - World of Warcraft ] [ 11:20 AM ]

Winter break was made for a short commute cycle that consisted of bed, kitchen, and computer. On Christmas, he'd been expected to be out of bed and dressed at what his parents considered a reasonable hour, but New Year's Eve was a different matter. Noah was stretched out on his bed, still in his pajamas, with several blankets piled on top of him, because why waste residual warmth when there was no need to be presentable or sociable yet? The pillows had been rearranged to create some space for the laptop, and he'd logged on for dailies at least. Forums and incrementals could be attended to later.

It was too early - in a relative sense - for most of the guild to be on yet, but there were a few. A message popped up, and he grinned. Right on time.

To [Alette]: Just dailies
To [Alette]: Hogmanay? Is that some kind of weird pagan thing or is it just a weird Brit thing? ;D
To [Alette]: I just woke up, what time is it there?

[Knoxville, TN] [????]

The miles rolled by on either side of Rep as he cruised (probably way too ******** fast) along the freeway. It was different here, a landscape nothing like where he'd come from. He'd left the mountains behind, not bald, cruel looking mountains like the ones back in Scotland but wild looking untamed ones covered in trees. Now the city had settled in, or at least the suburbs. The rules weren't the same here, people spread out and so did the businesses, carbon copy after carbon copy, the weird ******** logos on their poles high above buildings alien lights against the sky. Some he recognized like McDonalds, others he didn't like Wendy's, Arby's, any number of other alien franchises. It just wasn't the way s**t was done back home and it was alien enough to reassure him how far away he really was. Because he wanted distance, he wanted uncountable miles between the life he had before, the life that was ******** sucking him dry.

The rental car didn't feel the same as his own car back home, the handling a little wide, the bite of the accelerator a bit looser, it was like riding a cheap whore already hollowed out by too many cocks. But it was driving and lately that was what he'd really ******** wanted to do, drive until he ran out of road, see where he ******** ended up. Maybe it was a midlife crisis, (was he even old enough for that?) but after his second overdose in too few weeks he'd decided he needed to get the ******** away from it all. He'd taken a job that needed to be done for some mate of a mate smuggling drugs across the border. He'd walked out of the airport unscathed but buzzed by the experience and had been left with free time to himself to just drive across the US, wherever the ******** he wanted. Some other c**t would need to copy the ******** discs, he'd work on the cracks with his laptop as he went.

It felt good and that night he had the window down, music blaring and one arm holding his roll-up as he looked over the GPS. Apparently this place had a ******** street right in the a*****e of the town called Gay St. ******** faggots were getting a hold on ******** everywhere it seemed, spreading like a ******** disease. Maybe he could find one and have a fight, they supported that here didn't they? Churches and gay bashing, it was the ******** land of the free and he more than anyone wanted to be ******** free.

He'd had plenty to drink already, but he was ******** fine, he felt good, better than he had anyway, he could drive with his eyes shut, a few shots didnae hurt anybody.

He hadn't decided where he wanted to go that night, if he wanted to check out a pub or club or if he just wanted to crash at a motel, maybe pick up a cheap whore or two from the red light district. But he was tired, and more ******** thoughtful than he had been in a while, the b***h he'd slept with two nights back and a few hundred miles away had been a cold ******** ice queen who had asked him too many questions he didn't expect and then had surprised him by wanting to kiss when he'd already ******** told her that wasn't something he did. She hadn't even been a prostitute and maybe that was where the ******** problems came in. She'd tossed her black hair and asked him where he was running to, what he was running from. He'd hated it. Even now days later he found it lingering and himself worrying again, he could only run so long, he would run out of money at some point and have to go back to his rut, the rut that was slowly ******** killing him. He wasn't getting any younger and the amount of crack and weed he needed to feel a buzz just ******** grew all the time. He put his foot to the floor and the car leapt forward like a cougar, pacing the road behind him as he overtook some disgruntled looking b***h who shouldn't have been on the ******** road anyway.

All it took was a ******** moment of distraction as he found himself faced with a weird junction for him to make a simple mistake, moving into the wrong lane, the wrong way, too ******** used to driving on the other side of the road and he found himself swerving to avoid oncoming traffic, unable to halt the momentum as he skidded and fishtailed and finally careened into a ditch where with a thunk of branches and scrape of weeds the car got firmly stuck in the mud.

[ Tweedbank, Scotland - World of Warcraft ] [ 17:24 ]
Al took pause and considered how best to proceed. He had news, good news he hoped. He wasn't entirely sure how Noah would take it though.

To [Sahrelian]: Naw man, neither. Scotland is unique.
To [Sahrelian]: It's almost ******** 5:30 PM. You still in bed?

There was a slight pause even as responses flickered across his screen.

To [Sahrelian]: Hey, I gotta tell you something.
To [Sahrelian]: You feel up for some group chat over the mic?

Alette has invited you into a party.

[ Tweedbank, Scotland - World of Warcraft ] [ 17:30 ]

As soon as Noah accepted a slight crackle was heard and then someone huffing into the mic, his voice crisply sounded out with a, "can you hear me?"

[Party] [Alette]: How's that?

He assumed it was fine after a moment or Noah would have complained rather obnoxiously by now. He smirked. "Da said I could come to America on holiday in April." He reached for the bottle on his side table and set it on his desk. "He says once I decide on an exact date, where, and for how long he can buy the tickets."

[ La Crosse, Wisconsin - World of Warcraft ] [ 11:30 AM ]

"Nope, can't hear you at all," Noah replied cheerfully. "It's just wohn wah wah like Peanuts. Kidding, it's fine."

He leaned on his elbows, letting his toon idle as they talked. "Whoa, seriously? So you're gonna come to Wisconsin right? We have - uh - cheese, and cows, and more cheese. Wonderful cultural experience, not to be missed."

[ East Village, NYC, NY ] [ 9:45 pm ]

"...New year's eve."

Judging from Ty's long-suffering tone of voice [albeit with just a hint of a snicker behind it] this wasn't the first time Ever had asked for the date, and it probably wouldn't be the last. Nowhere near to midnight, and Ever was already blasted enough that he could barely stare up, let alone pour a proper drink -- not that it mattered here, at Bottoms Up, tonight. Everyone was already smashed or worse. The drinks could probably be colored water and no one would notice.

He couldn't quite swallow a laugh, leaning in across the bar as he surveyed the crowd. This was not the kind of place anyone with any class visited on a regular night, let alone on a holiday: it was a dive that hadn't taken the extra step to become a cool dive, it wasn't clean enough for anyone upscale to come slumming.

It was just trashy. And, to that end, it suited Ever just fine.

"Not Halloween, then?" He turned dark eyes on Ty, who fought down the urge to roll his eyes and ducked back behind the bar to pour his own damned drink. Here, at least, was a contrast to the half-naked and largely-wasted crowd, dancing frantically in the heart of the noise on the too-small dance floor. No. Ty was nineteen now, still working off of a fake ID but grown into his skin. Tousled-haired and thoughtlessly optimistic. Friendly without trying, and definitely too good of a server to stay at this s**t hole for long.

"No, that was in October, Ever." His tone was so exasperated -- and so familiarly so -- that Ever couldn't help but grin, settling his elbow on the counter and his chin on his hand, looking one more time up to the clock.

9:50, now. Ten more minutes until he was off, and could get too drunk to even stand.

Oh wait, maybe he was there already.

"What's the difference, sugar?" As he asked, he nodded to someone covered in glitter and wearing fairy wings -- now completely shredded from interactions with the surrounding dancers here and whatever other bars he'd visited.

Ty blinked at him, paused to think, and then spread his hands -- grinning as well and bumping Ever's shoulder before he disappeared back into the crowd to deliver drinks.

Their flirting was easy, comfortable and automatic at this point: nothing more than a little back and forth banter, neither of them each other's types, aside from one or two poorly-planned acts of desperation. Friends, and it was nice to have a casual friend like this, someone who never seemed to take offense, who took nothing personally, who didn't push or pull. Comfortable, if temporary.

He poured another drink for himself, two fingers of vodka over a handful of ice cubes.

9:55. Five minutes left.