"Brenner." Brenner says. Fishing around in his pockets and finding a small lotion bottle, he unscrews the top and takes a sip from the container.

William raises an eyebrow at Brenner. William notices that Brenner has a rubber band bracelet. William says "Nice use for rubber bands. I prefer duct tape thou but it is how you use a resource that is important."

Cecelia rolls her eyes at Brenner's swig. "Grandpa. I swear, I don't know what it is about those hotel/motel ameneties you like so much, but could you please not just do that in front of strangers?" Cecelia looks over at William apologetically. "Sorry, he's not the brightest bulb in the knife drawer. And he has a tendency to intimidate others without a second thought. He's also my 'chaperon' because of... I forget which alien race he was worried about this time, but yeah. And I've seen him use those rubber bands as a weapon before." She was used to explaining her grandfather's actions to others to avoid problems before, so this was nothing new.

"You know damned well I only use the bottles to smuggle hooch through customs." he replies indignantly "And I don't scare on purpose, I just have a very intimidating presence." he adds with a huff, stowing the half empty container "Reptilians, You wouldn't know it by the name but they like it cool and damp," he snaps his bracelet "Rubber bands, only thing more versatile than duct tape."

William smirks then laughs. Once he is done laughing, William says " I fear the capabilities of humanity more than any alien although I always hope we can and will do better. Besides, I like a little bit of insanity. It keeps life interesting. On a side note Cecilia, I read about people in books far crazier than he is. You should be happy."

Nodding at William's side note, Cecelia agreed. "Yeah. Could be worse. He's legally allowed to roam around by his own choice. Sometimes it's hard to remember how lucky both of us are for that. My dad's parents have both died, so he's my last grandpa. Sorry if I'm going into too much detail without us not knowing much about each other." Smiling over at Brenner, Cecelia leans back in her chair and finally relaxes from the tension she's had most of this adventure so far.

"You just haven't been around me long enough." the old man jokes, removing the notebook from his jacket again and opening it up to another seemingly random page and looking for a particular notation scribbled in somewhere That reminds me, I really need to find the time to tell you about the day I went to groom lake with your great grandfather." he begins to skim through his notebook after finding the note he was searching for "Say, William, how old are you?"

William replies to Brenner's question"I am twenty one. I know, why am I not in college? Like I said, I was not good enough. Besides, I prefer informal practical hands on training. I might do a pilot or skipper's course."

"Education is your own business, sonny." Brenner responds dryly "I never went to college, but I'm doing just fine." he adds, tapping on a marked page in his notebook "Hmm... Most recent William involved I managed to verify was clear back in the sixties, and he was my age.

William reaches for his hiking boots, takes out his flint and starts to play with it. He asks Brenner "Do you have any tips for survival or thelike? I am not doomsday obsessed or the like. One can say that I like living a nomadic life. For example, I always pack my flint and steel."

"Have to ask my dad on that one, he was the soldier in the family." he closes the book and slides it back into its place in his jacket, "Oh, avoid the Flatwoods in west virginia during early winter, long story short the beastie breathes out mustard gas. Brenner warns, eyeing the flint and steel "Better off packing a butane lighter. probably. he once again removes the lotion bottle of homebrewed hooch and take a sip, staring out the window at the crowd once more.

"Butane lighters do work but only the high end ones are any good in my opinion. Also I would feel out place with a lighter in public and not using it. Beside I feel more comfortable with my flint and steel." William says in response.

"I'm more of a sword girl myself. My love for the medieval/Renaissance eras has caused a passion for making weapons. Well, fake/wood/foam weapons as accurately to its respective era as I can be with a pocket knife or whatever tool I'm using." Deciding that she doesn't really care, she pulls her wooden-sword replica out of her backpack to show.

"My tool of choice, as you may have guessed," Brenner chimes in, reaching into the small bag strapped to his belt, withdrawing a handful of rubber bands "Is far more subtle he finishes, tucking all but one away after a moment and zipping the bag shut, he idly fiddles with the remaining band.

"We all have tools of the trade but they are useless if one does no know the trade. Flint and steel is only one of the basic tools that I use. I keep my hidden in boots for flight purposes." Says William smiling.

Brenner pauses to give William a funny look "You do know that the TSA and FAA both allow flint and steel, right?"

"I am sure they don't allow sharp objects like knives." William says yawning "I think I should have a nap. Please wake me up when stop at our destination." William closes his eyes and tries to sleep.

The driver and agent of the travel agency enters the bus. He looks lanky, tall, and jaded. There's a small noise as he slapped the cardboard on the bottom right side of the windshield, and resounding footsteps as he walks to and sits at the driver seat. The reassuring purr of the engine tells you that you're on your way, yet the driver seems both hesitant and impatient.

A hissing sound comes from the onboard speakers as the driver talks into the microphone. "Are we still waiting for anybody?" he says, then pauses for a couple of seconds before saying "good. It'll be like... 6 hours to Howler's, but we'll make it in 4."

With a sigh, the driver maneuvers out of the parking area and drives on to Howler's Hill.

Car. Thumb. Whoosh.

Emmett was tired. He had been walking for a good part of an hour, sticking his thumb out every time he saw a car approach, which was about once every 5 minutes. The sun had not let up, and whatever parts of Emmett's neck wasn't already red was sunburned. He felt like a well-done omelette: scrambled and overcooked.

Trailer. Thumb. Whoosh.

He took another drink from his first bottle, draining the last drops of precious water inside. It's important to stay hydrated, stay sane. His legs didn't feel like legs anymore. They felt autonomous, moving on their own. Emmett didn't mind this. It gave his mind something else to focus on instead of his starting-to-ache soles.

Bus. Thumb. Whooscreeeecccchhhh.......

Emmett jerked into focus. He saw the bus approach, and as it got closer, the screech of the brakes being applied violated his eardrums, though he was far too tired and surprised to cover his ears. The bus came to a full stop a few meters ahead of where Emmett was standing, and the door opened with a hiss, inviting him to come over. "Well, goddamn. Looks like my luck is changing after all." He said to himself in his tired voice.

The bus was air conditioned and the cool air washed over Emmett and he took a moment to simply enjoy the sensation in case the bus suddenly decided to drive away in an act of cruelty. Thankfully, the bus driver actually motioned for Emmett to board. "We're heading to Howler's Hill" said the driver as Emmett passed. "Good. I'll get off there." he replied, and he scanned for an empty seat anywhere on the bus. There. He thought. Not too many people are sitting there. The closest people is that grampa and his kid opposite me. Hopefully they won't mind.

Emmett walks over to his seat, stows his rucksack under the chair and takes a much needed sit-down. He's already asleep when the bus drives off.

Lane Finally tracked down her luggage and was relieved to see her archery set was with her bag, after picking up her luggage she walked over to where the bus was departing from. She confirmed with driver that this in fact the right bus and proceeded to find a seat closer to the back and continued to stare out the window and think about her archery camp that she had saved every cent she could get her hands on just to go.
She could hear a few of the passengers talking among themselves and Lane took the have to have a quick look around the bus to see if anyone looked interested in talking or were even going to the same place as she was. Lane continued to listen to the conversation behind her trying to work up the courage to at least say hello and ask where they were heading.