The Drakon of Park City (Roman)

OOC: So, so, so, easy there. He likes stuff like AM as mentioned, Last Shadow Puppets, Planet of Zeus (hiiiiighly reccomended, these guys are amazing), RHCP and l guess he's fine with your guys' suggestions lmao.

BIC: Well, to be fair, even if you don't listen to the 'king of pop' (like Phil) you can never complain when it's playing. Or at least that was his opinion. Besides, way better than Should've been a cowboy. Damn Country...

So Spence put on some Michael Jackson. Not bad, a pretty popular entertainer who's music is well liked. Not much protesting from about that.

"So, who's next?"

"Yeah, follow your insticts. Unless that means country" Phil said. If Phil was about to die via dragon, he wanted his last few days to be country-less. Maybe he'd get the chance to ask Spencer to the prom in the middle of a life and death situation for a second straight year, that'd be fun. That is, if they returned. Which they would. Right. The others would for sure.

Spoiler:

"No takers? Alright then, brace yourselves kiddos." After another series of glances and scrolling, I set my iPod to the Black Keys' "Dead and Gone" and let it play through the car. Maybe they'll appreciate that kind of music.

Excluding the title, Dead and Gone was a nice change for Phil. It also showed that Dean was one of those people that could listen to whatever without caring. Now, it was him or Cam. And what would he put on? Anything from an anime would be a no-go for the others, no matter how cool (Cowboy Bebop) smooth (Hellsing) or epic (Attack on Titan) or pop trash it may be. Eh, he'd probably end up playing something like Arabella or I bet you look great on the dance floor.

Unplugging the iPod, I left the aux cord hanging on the center console. "Anyone? Cam? Phil? Your chance to play us some tunes."

Ohey, hip hop was next. Well, at least it had made Spencer perk up. Phil had quit that kind of music a while back, but at least it wasn't too unpleasant.

Hip hop...not bad, but not my flavor of rap music. NWA, Tupac, Kendrick Lamar - now that was rap. Cam's selection was very much Cam-like; aggressive and loud but still not the most obnoxious thing in the room more often than not. That award goes to Spencer's crossfit-ready attire.

The song eventually finished, and I proceeded to pull the cable out and toss it to the back. "You're up Phil."

"Alright party people. Let's jam ." Phil said before putting on this wonderful song( http://bit.ly/1KCrEai ). Let's put on something happy sounding for a change. And something that isn't Arctic Monkeys cause who wants to listen to songs about pretty girls before slaying a dragon?

Wow, another rocker was on the premises. I couldn't really put my finger on who it was, but I decided to give it a shot. "Yo Phil, is this the Killers or something? Nice pick bro."

See? Everything gets better with some good ol' rock. Phil concluded that as he would never be ready for country, the others would probably never be ready for Libera me from Hell and stuff like that. "Um, Queens of the Stone Age. And thanks, I guess."

OOC:

"Nice."

It wasn't like I wasn't checking the gauges every now and then (the radiator wasn't the most reliable part of the old Ford; I already had to stop once to let the engine cool), so when Cam asked about the gas, my response came out well rehearsed. "We've got enough that we'll get into Nevada fine, but I'm gonna pull off at the first exit in Reno to fill up."

In non-petrol news, Phil and Spencer had reach the, smile at each other for support stage of nervousness about the task at hand. That was something Phil had no problem with. In a weird way, the fact that Spencer was worried about this made him feel better- if someone as powerful as her was concerned about this, why wouldn't Phil?

Pacing Note (OOC):

About ten minutes of driving later, we reached the Nevada/California border. After taking another glance at the fuel gauge, I hit my right indicator and shifted my way onto an off ramp. We were several miles out of Reno, so finding a station wasn't too hard; a smaller Mobil stop that looked as if it's better days were behind it was sufficient enough for what we needed.

Pulling into the station, I handed Cam about three $10s and a pair of $5s, instructing her to take Spencer and "Have them put fifteen on pump five. You and Spence can use the cash to get some snacks; I've got a debit for the gas."

As the girls were doing more important stuff, Dean and Phil were refilling the car with petrol. In complete silence- Phil was thinking of who Black Goku actually is: an android created by Dr. Gero based on Goku's DNA or Goten under mind control? Nah, that's stupid, Goten doesn't exist in Future Trunks's timeline.

With the pump in the car and gas flowing into the Focus, I decided to take the time to clarify a few things with Phil. "So uh, Phil?" I said, leaning against the right passengers door; "Why didn't you bring a bag? Was it that you forgot or do you seriously believe you can just rough it out here?"

Although I didn't really think a whole lot about it at first, I just then noticed something out of the corner of my eyes. On the surface, it didn't look like much; just an ordinary white-colored Wrangler that had seen better days, evidenced by the small patches of rust around the hinges and fenders. But upon closer inspection...oh my. Ohhhh my. What I saw was something every run of the mill hetero seventeen year old male would love to lay eyes on. We're talking two women, ages somewhere between 20 and 21, with shirts that read ΚΚΓ - Kappa Kappa Gamma; a sorority.

Yes, two sorority girls were at the same gas station as two young, impressionable boys who were a bit stressed from six hours or so of driving. It was like a mirage in the desert, a nice distraction from the harrowing reality of drakons and deities and imperial gold weapons and a life of serving in a pseudo-antiquity army. I didn't have any feelings for them besides mild lust, as I had already begun internal debate on whether or not I would take a risk and ask my current crush out, but damn was it a distraction.

One of the two, the one sitting shotgun in the top-down four-by-four, happened to notice us, evidenced by a smile and wave that looked well rehearsed, as if she was used to this kind of thing - and most girls with letters were, as far as my understanding goes on the subject. I just waved back, triggering a giggle from the trust-fund recipient, who then scooted over to the window and exchanged some words with her friend at the pump. "Hey, Webb, check your six and thank me later." It wasn't long after the girls' exchange that the one in the car got out, joining with her fuel-pumping friend - and they were walking to my car.

Jackpot.