Ophrenia's mouth of was awfully dry when she got up in the morning. She and Z had hit the local bar to chat up the locals about where to find the old lady, but it hadn't gone as planned. There was a baseball game on and she got terribly distracted. She made several friends with the men at the bar, talking to them about different games that happened over the season. She drank her fill of drink, got treated to a few rounds of beer and treated in turn. It was a good night. A few of the guys gave them a ride back to the motel after sundown. She did remember Jen saying not to be out after dark. They were more than happy enough to drop them off after she said she knew Morton. Apparently the old man liked to watch the games at the bar, but all that traveling he did today must have worn him out.
She slept like a baby on the hard and lumpy motel bed. Drinking always put her right to sleep.
She got up the next morning and decided not to torture herself with hot clothing. She couldn't do anything about her suitcase being mostly all black, but she could warm something cooler and leave her beloved jacket in the room. She dressed in a tight black t-shirt with the anarchy symbol across the chest and red plaid and pleated mini skirt she tucked the shirt into. She'll have to suffer with her combat boots and invest in getting different shoes from one of the stores in town when she had the time. She didn't bother with her makeup and her hair was shriveled to hell. She wet it and put in leave in conditioner to get her natural curls bouncy, before leaving the room.
She got to the cafe just when everyone else did. Jen was already there with the map of the town out on the table. Ophrenia saw a sign that the cafe served breakfast, until noon. She was right on time to order french toast and bacon with a cup of orange juice. She sat at the table with her drink, waiting for her food to be ready. And there was way too much going on between Neko being mad at Jen, and Jen not knowing how to string together a proper sentence. She was losing the plot quick with all her 'ums' and 'uhs' and elongated syllables. And now she wants them to go into the swamp to deal with a place that's likely to get them dead? What the fuck did she get herself into. She didn't think Eleanor was worth all this trouble, but she's a messy bitch for drama and curious shit.
She sipped her juice, quenching her thirst. "Cool, so we'll go to the swamp, go to an abandoned house that's guaranteed to get us dead, and then...Guess I'm in. I take none of you brought of gun, because if you think bats and wooden planks are going to do anything against gators, you've got another thing coming." Or whatever the hell else is out there. She's got her gun license in Tennessee, but California's got the squeaks when it comes to conceal and carry. She could probably find a gun shop in town that wouldn't mind she's registered in another state.
The waitress sat her plate down in front of her. She smiled and thanked her. She'll need proper shoes, a gun, and she's got an hour to make that happen. Sounds easy enough.