GW Robichaux

"C'mon already," GW muttered under his breath. The line to the concession stand was moving at a snail's pace and the second film was due to start in less than ten minutes. He'd gotten to the drive in late after a performance with the band, and had to have popcorn if he was going to sit on the hood of his truck and watch a horror flick.

Bethany had left her car to replenish her drink, beginning to think she should head back to Vegas soon so she could have something alcoholic to drink. That and she had something she wanted to attend to, and hopefully if all went well she would have a very good finish to Halloween.

She stepped into line behind a dark haired man, seemingly impatient for the line to move and she tipped her head to one side, eying the length of the line. God, she hated waiting, she really did.

GW stretched, impatient for the line to move. When the movie started up he didn't want to miss any of it because he'd been stuck in the concession line. Frankenstein might be a little dated, but it was still a classic that he never tired of watching on Halloween night.

As he stretched a slender blonde came into his field of vision, a real looker who would have been completely without blemish if it weren't for a scar on her face. GW had scars of his own, just not so visible.

"Evenin'," he greeted the blonde, nodding his head in the direction of the line. "Think th' popcorn is worth th' wait?"


It took her a few moments to realize that the man in front of her was talking to her, she'd been too busy watching an advert just to distract herself from the boredom that was waiting in this line. Bethany turned rich brown eyes to the man in front of her and was surprised to find that he was attractive to the eye, never a bad thing.

"Probably not," she informed him with a smirk. "But it adds to the movie viewing experience."

GW's eyebrows went up in surprise at the accent even as he returned the smirk. "You're a long way from home, aren't you? I haven't heard an accent like that since I was on your side of th' pond a few years back." Helene's accent had been similar, but not quite as polished as this young woman's.

"Can't watch an old movie without popcorn, the buttery, salty kind that doctors hate." What was the point of living if a person denied themselves the small pleasures in life?

He shuffled forward two steps as the line moved, then turned back to his conversation partner and extended a hand. "I'm GW Robichaux, Miss, and you are?"

Bethany's eyes crinkled a little in the corner and her lips hinted at amusement. "You have no idea," she assured him a moment later.

She hadn't missed his accent, foreign in the array of Vegas accents that surrounded them. "And from the sounds of things I'm not the only one far from home."

When she was offered a hand, she reached out to take it in her smaller one, gripping tightly until callused skin met GW's. "Bethany Richards." Now if she was in Vegas the name would have had some kind of reaction but she wasn't.

"Guilty as charged, Cajun country born and bred," he replied, a bit surprised at the controlled strength evident in the handshake. He contemplated going gallant and bringing the hand up to his lips, but thought better of it and released it. He didn't want her misinterpreting the gesture after all. "A pleasure t' make your acquaintance."

The name did sound familiar, but it took a minute for him to make the connection. "Ah! You run Heaven's Peak, non? I've been there once or twice. Nice place." Not his typical scene, but it was a nice change from his usual haunts every now and again. Definitely not a place where his kind of music would find a home, unless it underwent a radical change in atmosphere and clientèle.

"That I do," Bethany murmured with an obviously proud smile. She withdrew her hand, tucking both in the back pocket of her jeans, leaving her thumbs free to tap them against the denim.

She tipped her head and eyed the line again, rolling her eyes as it was barely moving. "I'm beginning to think it would be quicker to drive to Vegas to get a drink."

"I'm inclined t' agree," GW surveyed the line and shook his head. "I think we could run down t' th' convenience store an' buy microwave popcorn and some cokes and make it back before we reached the front of th' line."

He sighed and turned his attention back toward Bethany. "But then we'd miss out on th' start of a classic horror flick, which is th' whole reason I came down here t' begin with. How long have you been a horror fan?"

"Depends on how fast you run," Bethany commented casually but there was something in her eyes that suggested something untoward, almost a predatory glint.

She shrugged a second later and reached up, ruffling at her hair, which in turn pulled the tanktop up, giving a brief display of the tattoo she'd had inked near her hip and across her stomach.

"Since I was a child," she shared. "You?"

"The same," GW responded, admiring both the tattoo and the shapely formed midriff. He figured since they were doing show and tell he might as well show his own tat. The Cajun shrugged out of his jacket and pulled the sleeve of his t-shirt to display the tattoo of the Marine Corps emblem inked into a well muscled shoulder.

"I saw Dracula when I was eight an' that was it. When I was little they scared me, nowdays its more for laughs an memories." He'd seen enough over the years between growing up in a family of magic users and the Corps that the Hollywood version rarely scared him anymore.

Bethany tipped her head, fighting the urge to smirk as GW showed off his tattoo and she allowed herself a moment of admiration for both the tattoo and what it meant.

"It's easier for things to scare us when we're children." Bethany slid her hands around and pushed them into the back pockets of her jeans, hitching her shoulders upwards. "The age of innocence or so everybody would have you believe."

"I would agree with em.'" GW replied, taking a step backward as the line moved. "Childhood is a more innocent time, in a way. Simpler, less stressful."

He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and tapped one out against the palm of his hand, and fished out his lighter. "A dirty habit I know," he told Bethany, "but one I haven't been able t' give up."

'Depends on your parents', Bethany thought to herself.

She bit her lower lip and just lifted her eyebrows. "I have a couple of those myself."

"You're only human," GW replied with a nod as he lit up his smoke and took a deep drag. Oh yeah, he'd needed that. He held the pack out to the woman, offering her a cigarette in case she indulged as well.

Bethany held up a hand and shook her head. "That's one vice I've never actually indulged." When the line moved forward as did Bethany, taking that one step closer to a fresh coke. She was beginning to wonder if she should just call it a night and head back to Vegas.

"Good for you," GW said sincerely. "Don't ever start. I've never been able t' give it up entirely, just reduced it down t' a few a day."

Sounds of the movie starting up got GW's attention. He looked back toward the giant screen where the black and white images began to flicker and then at the head of the line again, and shook his head. "It's just not worth it. I think I'm gonna have t' watch the movie without popcorn." He should have just rented the movie online and watched it at home, but he'd wanted to get out of the house.

The Cajun nodded politely to Bethany, then decided to throw caution to the wind and dug out his wallet to hand her a business card. "Guess I'll be seein' you around Bethany. If you ever decide t' do somethin' different at the club give me a call, non? We might not be your typical genre, but we're damn good. Have a good night."

With that, GW nodded again and stepped out of the line to walk back to his truck.