Two People Walk Into a Hotel Bar

He paused in his hair braiding, though he seemed entirely reluctant to allow the other man to touch his hair. In fact, he didn't let anyone touch his hair.

"My wife gave them to me," he replied, glancing at the ugly pajamas. They weren't even comfortable, either. They were ugly and uncomfortable and he despised them. But they were the only article of clothing his wife had ever given to him, and so he kept them.

His wife asked to play with his hair often, and he only conceded because he loved her so very much. He did not love Charlot, in fact he did not even trust the other man, and so he continued to braid his hair on his own.

"Ah," he said, leaning closer, "So you are married. Do tell. What's she like? How does it feel to be so hopelessly tied down?"

"She's dead," he said, as he continued to braid his hair. He didn't even flinch. "Just like you will be, if you keep asking stupid fuckin' questions."

"Oooh, tragic," he said, laying on his stomach. "Do tell. Unless it's too touchy of a subject, I suppose.

"It's quite the coincidence, Everly--I don't have a wife either." He winked, then laughed. "So I'm sure all your feelings are healthy and nothing to be ashamed of."

Everly turned quiet, choosing to braid his hair in silence.

He laughed again.

"Come on, don't be quiet--you were so full of swagger at the bar! Do you want me to reconsider bringing you along on my trip?"

"I want you to reconsider asking stupid questions," Everly replied, as he finished his hair. "I remember specifically telling you that if you want to know what I am, you better take me out to dinner first.

"And before you say it, room service doesn't count," he smiled, ever so slightly.

He grinned and picked up his phone.

"Then let me cancel it and we'll go out. I had wanted to stay here, but I'm not a rude host. Any restaurant you prefer?"

Everly glared.

"Don't you dare cancel that," he said, before he had thought about it. He was just so hungry, the thought of having to get dressed and go out to a restaurant was torturous.

"I won't cancel if you count it as dinner," he said with a devilish grin. "I'll even put on pants, if that's what you prefer. I'm a reasonable man."

He glared at him, but he had to smile.

"If you're that interested, you could just ask me to fuck you," he replied, shrugging.

He chuckled, highly amused.

"If I say yes, will you tell me about yourself? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious." He sat upright, crossing his legs.

"Of course, if that was some kind of weak joke about homosexuals I will have to break your face. But I have a feeling you're not the type."

"There is nothing more you need to know about me than what you already know," Everly insisted, waving his hand. "If you want to know about my past so badly, dig it up for yourself. I can guarantee you won't find anything interesting, if you find anything at all."

He grinned.

"If you want to get it out of me, you'll have to try harder than that."

"How?" he asked eagerly. "What's your currency? Money, sex, drugs? Food, perhaps? I don't mind paying--I merely like knowing about who I'm traveling with. I'll give you anything but some information."

"You're a strange man," he replied, standing up. He ruffled around in his jacket pockets before he found his cigarettes and he lit one up, sighing deeply.

He leaned back in his chair, exhaling the fragrant smoke.

"There is nothing in this life you can give me that I haven't already had," he replied whimsically. "There's nothing more I want that you could give me. The only thing I want is to find and kill my own personal demons."

"Then I'll cancel that room service," he replied with a wink. "We can merely sleep on an empty stomach and head out tomorrow morning--I have no objections to that. I'm a man of efficiency. That's why I stopped here--thought I could dust a rat on my way to fry bigger fish."

He played with the rings on his fingers.

"You really should tell me about yourself. We can make a game out of it, if you prefer--we are in Vegas. Can you play Blackjack?"

Everly just grinned.

"You think threats like that'll really bother me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "But, fine. We can play Blackjack, or poker, or any other number of card games or otherwise. If I lose, I'll tell you something about my past.

"If I win, you'll tell me about your past."

"Blackjack is my favorite," he admitted, pulling a deck of cards out of the nightstand drawer. "Your terms sound fine. Let's play."

He shuffled the deck and laid down the cards.

"Good luck, Monsieur."

"Well, then. This should be fun."

-x-

Everly shrugged, laying down his hand.

"I lose. What do you want to know?" he asked, leaning back in the chair.

"Everything," he said, leaning close. "Tell me everything you can think of. You can start with what you are, if not human."

"I sold my soul to the devil," he said simply. "I'm immortal until I finish a certain task."

Everly crossed his arms over his chest.

"That's all you're getting out of me."

"Ah," he said. "Made a deal with the devil at a crossroads, and all that? It's okay, you don't have to tell me what drug lord you're indebted to. I understand."

"Give me your gun," he replied suddenly. "I'll prove it to you."

"You want me to shoot you?" asked Charlot, incredulous. "What kind of game are you playing? I don't want a bloody corpse in my room--if you must kill yourself, go jump off of someone else's balcony."

He scoffed, flipping his dreads over his shoulder.

"Why should I believe that you're immortal? I've met crazier people than you who looked just as normal."

He shrugged.

"Whether you believe me or not, it's the only truth you'll ever get out of me," he said. "The entire truth is far less believable, and even if I thought it would make you believe me, I would never tell you."