(DONE) Ep. 2 - Road Karma [Nell]

[Deleted]

//ooc// Set during Day 7 of Week 1.

"...You're shitting me."

Smoke billowed and then thinned from the engine of the beat-up Sedan. Sarita stared in disbelief, small toolbox in hand and no idea on where to start. There was the distinct smell of burnt rubber and plastic, and she wasn't entirely sure if it was wise to toy with melted parts. She pulled the hood of her car back down, but didn't shut it — the engine needed to air out. I think.

With a sigh, Sarita turned and looked forward, a pair of cars whizzing by her on the highway. She leaned against the front of her car, making sure not to stand on the side where a blackish cloud rose. Layby was worried enough as it was, and Deuce was AWOL somewhere over the state again; she was due to check in in another day or two. If she didn't?

"Crap."

Sarita rubbed at her face, grinding her teeth a little. Her lie about her bruised eye had gone miserably, a trace of the injury still left around the socket. If she lied again about getting in trouble, she was risking getting a reputation as impulsive, and she didn't want to burden Layby's mind with that. Or even have him believe that, at all — who knew what kind of restrictions he'd saddle her with. The mech had asked her not to cause him any more worry, and though she'd do it for his emotional sake —

A loud, unhealthy POP from her engine block had Sarita jumping several inches forward. Spinning on a squared heel, she growled and muttered, "Oh, come on!" as she skulked towards the car. Shoving the hood upwards, she coughed as a plume of smoke hit her in the face, squinting to try and see where more of it was coming from.

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“Cisco kid was a friend of mine...” Nell sung along to the radio as she drove. Her eyes were on the road, and her fingers tapped on the steering wheel. She was just enjoying her drive back from the flashier city of Las Vegas. How some people could actually stay there more than a day was beyond her, but it was fun for a few hours of distraction. Plus, she won a little bit of money at poker. Not much, but enough that she was planning on 'celebrating' by buying a good hunk of beef for dinner that night.

Or that was the plan until she noticed a car on the side of the road. Her eyes watched as the scrawnier girl moved to lean up on the side. “Well that sucks ass.” She muttered, not having any attentions to pull over. Then her stupid conscious started to poke and prod her gut, and Nell found herself grumbling as she found a spot to pull to the side of the road. No one had stopped to help her when she had broken down, and that sedan looked like it had better days. Who knew, maybe the girl had a rough life?

For now though, Nell pulled out her cigarettes and lit one of them before throwing the pack back into her glove box. Taking a long, slow drag – she got out. The smoke was blown out in a thin stream before she let the cigarette balance effortlessly between her lips. It didn't take her long to walk back towards the girl and her car. “Hey, need some help? I'm a mechanic so I know my way around an engine block.” She removed the cigarette with her left hand as she walked a little closer to the other girl, her right hand extending. “Names Nell.” She brought up, her eyes glancing over the sedan beside her.

Shit, was that the girls crap in there? Either she was just moving...Or she was actually living in her car. Already, she was quietly glad she had pulled over because it was looking more and more like her assistance was needed.

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Sarita's head pulled out of the smoke long enough to spot the car. Her eyes fixated on it, watching to see if it stopped or kept going, and her body tensed as it pulled over. Chevy Camaro, she mused, eyes zipping across the license plate and memorizing the numbers in an instant. Somebody takes good care of their classics...at least, I think it's a classic.

Before she could pick her brain for car lore, a brunette that looked like a shorter Amazon stepped from her car. Everything about her was sturdy, solid and authoritative — Sarita swore the woman had a march to her step. The vibe was familiar, and she found herself easing up and bracing in the same instant. Stepping away from the car a little, the busker waved away some smoke with a twiggy arm and an annoyed hand.

. “Hey, need some help? I'm a mechanic so I know my way around an engine block.” She removed the cigarette with her left hand as she walked a little closer to the other girl, her right hand extending. “Names Nell.” She brought up, her eyes glancing over the sedan beside her.

"Rita, a pleasure," said Sarita, smiling politely at the other woman. "Help would be very much appreciated. I'm afraid that I can't fix her this time — it looks like something is actually melting over the engine block. I have no idea what blew. Fan belt, maybe?"

Nell's eyes, even with their quickness, gave everything away. Sarita gave a frustrated sigh, glancing at her engine as she said, "And the new place isn't even ready yet. I'll never be able to keep up with the renovations if I have to keep rebooking my hotel rooms. They'd better have the plumbing finished when I get back to Vegas, I swear...."

There, convincing enough. Las Vegas wasn't just all glitz and glamour, and she was already thinking of a story about a "lucky steal" off of the market. Not only did her pride demand she didn't give the impression of being homeless (which, technically, was no longer true), but she didn't want to be seen as an easy target. On the road, she exercised caution with men and women alike, too familiar with the vipers that smiled with sweet faces.

[Deleted]

In a way, Sarita was lucky that Nell couldn't read minds. Seriously, the brunette would of given the other woman a scathing look before taking a look at that car that seriously needed a look over. At least the scrawny busker had no reasons to be wary of the shorter woman. After all, she was a somewhat decent person who didn't kick peoples asses for no proper reason.

As for introductions, she gave a small nod at the name and that help would be appreciated. The mechanic was positive no one can say no to help when car troubles cropped up. Even she hated when that sort of crap happened out of the blue, and she was someone who knew how to fix cars! A soft hum left her throat, thinking on what could be wrong with the car. Fan belt very well could be a problem.

But before she could mention her thoughts on that, Rita had caught her little glance at the stuff in that back seat and vocalized a story. A brow raised, and there was a clear look of 'yeah, right.' on her face. Nell could smell bullshit a mile away, and this certainly reeked of it. “So what the fuck you doin' so far from Vegas if you were just rebooking hotel rooms?” She asked before shaking her head a little.

“Look, save the bullshit and we're all good, okay? If you want me to get that car of yours up and runnin' I seriously don't give a rats ass about whatever story you spin.” Nell told her before flicking her cigarette. Her eyes were back on that car and they narrowed a little. “It could be the fan belt like you think, could also be an electrical problem because of the color of the smoke.” She explained before taking a long drag on her cancer stick.

A thin stream of smoke left her lips, and she took a deep breath trying to get a whiff of what smell the smoke was. “And considering I'm around oil all day I can't exactly smell it. But if you do? That would be an oil leak.” A shoulder shrugged a little. “Once that engine cools down I can take a look, but I ain't about to burn my hands.” Her words were drawled out as she spoke, and her bright blue eyes flicked towards Sarita. “Either way shouldn't be an expensive fix. I already made friends with the mechanic over in Jasper so I can get parts cheap.”

[Deleted]

“Look, save the bullshit and we're all good, okay? If you want me to get that car of yours up and runnin' I seriously don't give a rats ass about whatever story you spin."

Sarita opened her mouth. She quickly closed it again. She made a sound, a huff, and then turned to look back at her engine. Her head nodded along with Nell's words about being burnt, the busker adding, "Or anything else. If there are melted pieces in there, nothing is worse than having burnt plastic stuck to your clothing and making things worse."

The part about the fix being cheap made Sarita make a double-take. "O-oh," she said quietly, blinking away her shock. "Really ma'am, that's awfully kind of you, but I can pay for the time it takes you to fix it as well. Any favours you need, too, I would be more than happy to oblige for."

Sarita smiled at Nell, still a bit taken aback by the offer. She glanced inside Sheila's hood, taking note that the smoke seemed a bit darker now, and leaned back with a quick sniff. Like the other woman, the busker couldn't smell any oil, so it was either the belt or the electrical. Crossing her arms, a thoughtful frown on the singer's face, Sarita said, "There's one time before I can remember this happening. I was going up a really hilly part of California on a hot day, and something in the fans gave and died. Fan belt needed replacing back then, but that was only a couple of years ago, so I wouldn't imagine it would need replacing now."

Then again, the number of miles the second-hand Sedan had was absurd. Months of courier work, running around as a taxi service and travelling in general had given Sheila a hard ride. Repairs were often quick and make-do, and Sarita was hoping she hadn't put her car away wet one too many times.

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A brow raised as Sarita's mouth started to open, as if daring her to say something that'd get her to change her mind. When the scrawny girl snapped it shut, Nell almost smirked. “Thought so.” At least they could get right down to business. Things were always less messy when that was the case and at times? Less messy was certainly the best for all parties involved.

“Eh, they're just clothes.” Nell replied with a small shrug, in all honesty she had plenty of jeans and the shirt was cheap. Besides, it would add in one more pair of pants and a shirt she could wear without worry of getting dirtied. Her eyes were on the engine again and Nell shrugged a shoulder at the offer. “Depending on what's exactly wrong? It can take a 'big' thirty minutes to fix.” Seriously, that little time might been worth a pretty penny for other mechanics – but to Nell? It was her good deed for the week.

“So really, you don't need to pay me back.” There was a seriousness in her voice that meant yes, she knew what she was saying and the shorter woman down right meant it. The smoke was still thick, and Nell had bets that the engine was still too hot to handle. Hearing that something like this happened before, a slight frown was on her face. “How many miles have you put in on your car since then? At least ballpark it.” Really, it would help determining if that was the cause. “Course if it's not that much, and that is the problem? I'd love to hear how much you paid for that repair.” Or rather, she wanted to hear how badly Sarita had been ripped off.

Walking away from the sedan, she opened the passenger door of her Chevy, and reached into the glovebox for her flashlight. A few steps later she was waving the smoke a little away from Sheila's hood, and shining a light down towards the fan-belt. “Fuck.” The brunette muttered. “You got lucky that it didn't snap, looked about ready to. It'll probably be a good thirty minutes before the engine cools down enough.” Her blue eyes flicked towards Sarita.

“If you want, I can give ya a lift into town and get the part? I got some tools in my trunk so I don't need to stop by my place for anything.” But that did leave a question about the stuff in the rust-bucket, last thing the scrawny girl needed was for her stuff to be stolen too. Granted with the sun bearing down on them? It'd be particularly torturous for Sarita to stay put, and leave her open for people who weren't exactly...Friendly.

[Deleted]

Nell was an interesting creature, a woman of all motion. Before Sarita could even speak, Nell had seized the situation like a coyote seizes a hare: a sudden spring, a swift leap, and the creature was between fang and tongue before it could process its situation. Sarita began to speak — several times, in fact — but Nell kept countering with insistence and knowledge at every turn.

The busker was quietly fascinated. She hadn't seen a forward energy like hers in a while, and it was startlingly familiar. It was like Deuce's when wound, but more directed, more purposeful. An old acquaintance slipped into her thoughts, and Sarita frowned for a moment, her look reminiscently contemplative.

“If you want, I can give ya a lift into town and get the part? I got some tools in my trunk so I don't need to stop by my place for anything.”

The singer blinked. "I, um...well, now that you mention it — "

A small black planner came out of one of Sarita's skirt-pockets. The woman swiftly fingered through the pages, coming to a date at the very end of it.

"I've got a gig I'm supposed to be playing at in an hour or two. There's a diner near here that has music at lunch and sup, and the musicians get discounts on their meals in exchange for playing More if the crowd likes it, I've heard."

Putting the booklet away, Sarita added, "The other staff for the bands — rides, technicians, the works — also get discounts. If you want, you can grab a bite to eat before we go and see about that needed part. I have enough money to call somewhere that Sheila can be towed, and then once my job for the day is up, I should have a nice bit of cash to burn through."

Sarita smiled at the mechanic.

"I thank you very much for your kindness, but I cannot abide not paying back at least some of what you might pay for. I know I...don't seem like the most well-off sort, but I assure you, I am fine. Choice plays a big part in the way I live; not everything is as it might seem, Miss Nell."

Walking around to the back of the car, Sarita popped a door open. Reaching inside, she hauled out a black guitar case, holding it in one hand. The other was preoccupied with fishing around for sheet music, a booklet full of hand-written notes emerging shortly after.

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Being a woman of action was something the brunette just couldn't help. When she said she was going to do something, she was going to do it. She was also someone who couldn't wait until she got her hands onto some sort of project, and oh how that rust bucket of a Honda Civic was such a thing. There was also the fact that Nell was simply used to taking charge and getting shit done when it came to such things. After all, it was what was expected of her in the Army – and it carried easily over into everything else with ease.

She was so focus on what could be wrong with that car, that she didn't notice when Sarita opened her mouth to speak and quickly shut it again. Her mind was on what was possibly wrong with that car, and what needed to be done in order to make it run properly. Her thoughts were spoken out loud too, so Sarita could get a general idea on what was going on to. It was just what Nell did, and it was something her father did (and still does). It made things clear for the car owner, and it helped them realize that while some mechanics were crooks? Not all of them were.

Of course, Nell was also doing this without cost to Sarita – that being she would if she had it her way.

The offer of the ride into town, so the part could be picked up while that engine cool down further, seemed to be contemplated on. Nell's brows rose a little, waiting for an answer. They continued to rise, when the scrawny girl pulled a planner from her skirt-pockets. A gig? Interesting, but the girl kept talking and the thought of food did sound good. Still, it wouldn't be right. She looked like she needed to eat more instead of offering up the discounted meal to her. She also didn't want to accept going halfsies on whatever part was needed.

It wasn't like it cost a lot.

Still, twiggy kept insisting and then, her stomach let out a growl that was way louder than she would have wanted. The mechanic grumbled slightly as Sarita turned on her heel to head back towards her car. “Jesus fuckin' Christ.” She muttered lightly. “Fine. We got ourselves a deal. But ya don't have to go tacking on 'Miss' in front of my name.” Nell spoke up, shaking her head and heading towards her Chevy. “Just throw your guitar in back when you're done over there.” She mentioned over her shoulder before taking one last drag from her cigarette and stomping it out on the ground with the heal of her boot.

The smoke was held in for a moment, before blowing out a thin stream as she opened the door of her car.

Her head was shaking at this point, this act of kindness better not come back and bite her in the ass.

Starting the engine, she listened to the soothing rumble before buckling up and turning down the radio. At least some Iggy Pop was playing. Her eyes flicked towards Sarita once she got to the passenger side door. “Buckle up, Rita.” Nell commented before putting the Camaro into gear and getting it back onto the road towards town.

[Deleted]

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Iggy's Diner had stood proud for twenty-some-odd years. A blip on the horizon of an otherwise-barren stretch of highway, it was adjacent to a truck stop, yet only a bit bigger than the nearby McDonald's. Its cracked, relatively-small parking lot was crammed with two trucks, a group of pick-ups and a couple of fancy sports-cars, the last two parked a fair distance from the rest. The interior was a Fifties diner in the wrong decade — faded baseball posters of the era were tacked to the walls, the seats red and white, the floor patterned like a chess board. Each cramped booth had at least two people, seats dented from the many sittings across time.

At the front of the eating area, a round dais rose up, a three-step staircase leading up to the stage. Two diner workers were busy hooking together a microphone and speakers, squealing interference splitting the air now and then. Sarita had chosen to take a seat close to the front, beckoning Nell over to join her if she so chose. The singer was hunched over her food, gobbling down gravy-drenched fries as a grilled cheese sat cooling.

"So how'd you come to Jasper?" asked Sarita, half of her basket already wolfed down. She licked her lips and sucked on the bottom one, but patted her face and hands off with a napkin. The busker had made pains not to...for lack of a better word, hover protectively over her meal, and had managed to keep composure. It was embarrassing enough that Nell had caught on to her "situation", even though Layby had resolved the issue of her homelessness.

"And where'd you learn to sing?"

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The drive to the diner was uneventful, and save for the light singing along to the radio on Nell's part, it was quiet too.

Iggy's was familiar, simply because the brunette had ate there before. The food wasn't half bad, though the décor seriously needed a sprucing up. Oh well, at least the food was good enough and she was shutting up the growl that was far too audible for her liking.

She ended up joining Sarita, more so that she didn't get questions asked when she inquires about that discount the scrawnier girl had mentioned. While the busker ordered the gravy-drenched fries and grilled cheese, Nell ordered a classic cheeseburger with plain Jane fries. A good quarter of her own basket was finished, but the burger had a couple of bites before she decided to let it cool down just a tad. Sipping at her coke, Nell raised a brow as the girl asked her how she came to Jasper and then asked her the downright stupid question of 'where she learned to sing'.

A soft snort left the mechanic, and she popped a fry into her mouth before she decided to answer. “I was stationed over at the Black Rock military base not too long ago, so I just moved here about...” Another fry was popped into her mouth as she thought about it. “A couple weeks ago now?” It was amazing how quickly time flew by, and she was so far liking her coworkers – even if a couple of them seemed a little bit off at times.

Which nothing was wrong with that, it just made things a little interesting. Of course, she didn't realize that the reason the lot were a little 'off', was because they knew something big that she had no idea about just yet. “Bit boring around these parts though, I wish I got stationed somewhere with a little more...Life to it.” Oh what little did she know just how exciting it really was around here.

As for the singing...She took a bite of her burger to mull over it and didn't answer it right off the bat. Washing the mouthful down with a sip of coke. “With the singing...” She started in between sips. “Does the shower count?” She asked. “I never put much thought in it, it's just singing.” She just didn't have the drive to be some musician. Or rather, she just didn't have the interest in singing in front of others outside of a drunken karaoke night.

Besides, she liked being in the army and being a mechanic. Though her second career choice really would have been something in law enforcement, it was simply a deep seeded desire to do some good in the world by somehow stopping the bad guys.

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A soldier. So the familiarity was warranted — this woman was in the Army. There was always a march to their step and an alertness to their eyes, and Nell matched up with both. Sarita nodded, giving a quiet "mhm" before taking a bite out of her grilled cheese. The oily sandwich had gone tepid at last, no longer stinging her fingers at the touch.

“With the singing...” She started in between sips. “Does the shower count?” She asked. “I never put much thought in it, it's just singing.”

The busker's eyebrows quirked in interest. "Really now?" she asked, leaning forward with interest. "You'd never think you weren't trained. You were hitting almost every note correctly, even though you weren't paying attention. You have a good ear for pitch, I've noticed."

Sarita took a sip of her ice water. The grease in the gravy was thick, weighing on her tongue and pooling in her throat; she wondered if it would weigh down her notes. Fatty foods and dairy products were said to thicken the phlegm in one's airways, lessening the chances of having clear, sharp vocals in a song. Her eyes flickered down to the grilled cheese, then went back to Nell as Sarita mentally shrugged. Won't hurt me too much, I think....

"It's very earthy, really," the singer continued. "Solid and country. Your Georgian pronunciation adds to its charm, I think — a relaxing alto to listen to when the day is done. Even if music isn't your thing, it's something you should look into. Not many people have such natural talent, Miss N — er, Nell."

Another still who insisted formality was not necessary. First Layby, and now this mechanic — it tired Sarita sometimes. Her upbringing had demanded "yes sir", "no sir" and "thank you sir", and so many people threw the rulebook out the window, it made her head spin. How did they think they looked to what children were becoming, nowadays? That suddenly it was "cool" and "awesome" to be casual enough that they could be called by their first names?

...Then again, she supposed she enjoyed the informality. She hadn't eaten with anyone in a while, unless someone counted the once-or-twice snacking in Deuce's cockpit. Layby kept to himself, and the less said about what Catherine seemed to think of her, the better. Having someone to shoot the breeze with was refreshing.

Even though it's because I was on the side of the road again. A lightning-adorned Trans-Am came to mind, and Sarita felt around in her pocket for Deuce's cell phone. It was still there.

[Deleted]

Another snorted laugh left the brunette as Rita started to get all 'this and that' about her singing. Her eyes rolled a little as she took a bite of that burger. Really, she didn't think much of her singing abilities – simply because singing was not what she wanted to do in her life. Then again, even as a little girl she didn't have ideas of being a glamorous lead singer for some band or a 'princess'.

No, Nell wanted to get her hands dirty and her clothes stained with oil and grease.

It was satisfying to her, and it was a satisfaction that wouldn't be filled by signing for adoring fans. It was why she laughed, and why she rolled her eyes at Rita's remarks.

“Eh, I doubt I will and I have a more natural talent of ripping apart car engines and putting them back together.” Nell told her, ignoring the slip of that 'miss'. “Oh and I have some more natural talents...Like knocking back shots of whiskey or punching jackasses faces in.” For a moment, there was a Cheshire cat grin on her face. Really, she was the rough and tumble sort – it was just how she was.

Formality wasn't her thing either, though there was a certain amount of it in her life for the obvious reasons. Her own upbringing, along with others, didn't have the various comments with 'Sir' tacked on the end. Really, hearing her name with 'Miss' was just weird, same for hearing 'Ma'am' with it too. She always gave the newbies earfuls when they start going yes ma'am no ma'am. She may have outranked them, but they were allowed to call her Nell or Collins like anyone else. Still, she was a bit laid back when it came to supervising others, or at least she was until they gone fucked up something easy. In which case she was on their butts like white on rice.

“So, when do you head up on stage Rita? Cause I want to get that metal deathtrap of yours fixed up sooner rather than later” Though she still had food to eat, and overall the car was probably just now cooled down at the shop. At least the girl beside her didn't have to hitch a ride with some perverted creep. Granted, if Nell had walked up on one creeping up on Sarita? He'd of made friends with her fist – because the mechanic just didn't tolerate people like that when someone really just couldn't get away.

{ugh i hope this works for ya Pote Dx}

[Deleted]

//ooc// Works fine.

"About ten minutes," replied Sarita, taking another couple of bites out of her grilled cheese. "There was an electrical short in the microphone with the last band. Equipment wasn't grounded properly, so the staff are just making sure I won't get zapped as soon as I start. Poor soul who did spent a couple of weeks in hospital."

She paused in chewing. "Sheila — the car...she's not that bad, is she? I mean, I spent $150 just to get the fan belt changed last time...and I don't know how much else to keep her going...."

Sarita went quiet, staring at her grilled cheese with troubled eyes. She took a couple more bites out of it, taking longer than necessary to get to the point of swallowing. Putting down her sandwich, she grabbed a couple more of her dripping fries, and then sat in stillness and silence for a minute more.

Suddenly looking up, the singer said, "Oh, and, uh...if you see duct tape in the engine, please don't freak out. The mechanics didn't do that — some things...uh...kind of were leaking while I was trying to go across California. I got here from Tahoe on three rolls of duct tape."

Another sip of ice water. "Some of the wires looked funny. I would have used electrical tape, but I was out in the back country, and duct was all I had. I kind of wanted to get out of there in a hurry — that old folk-tale you hear about someone face-down on the side of the road, and a driver doesn't stop because they have a bad feeling about that person?"

She grabbed a couple more fries, glancing back at the stage.

"Well, somebody stopped there a week before I almost broke down. Two people, actually. They got out of their cars, and there were missing person reports on the radio about them. They got passed by a bunch of people who didn't brake for apparently-dead strangers."

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The mechanic gave a slight nod as Sarita mentioned that it'd be about ten minutes until her gig started. “Well, here's hopin' they do a good job at grounding it all.” Nell mentioned and held up her glass in a mock toast before taking a long sip of it.

As for Shiela and that hundred and fifty dollars spent on the fanbelt, Nell glanced towards her slowly. “Was that for the part, or was it for labor too?” She asked, and she almost choked on air when the scrawny singer told her the answer. “Whats the name of the mechanic? I'll kick his goddamn ass for you, he ripped you off.” Seriously, it was people like that, that gave all mechanics a bad name. She hated people like that.

Of course there was also the whole duct tape thing and Nell stared at the girl. She had to be kidding, it even made her stomach churn just thinking of duct tape piecing together some of the electrical circuits. “Jesus.” She was going to say some choice words but, Sarita was already telling her the why and logic to use the tape.

A slow sigh left her, and she shook her head a little. “It's not so much an old folk-tale. That shit does happen.” There was a frown forming by now. “Basically, it's an ambush. You'll have some people laying in the road that looks like an accident, you get out of your car to help like any other good human being and...Well, you get ambushed.” Another sigh left her as she ate another fry. “I've heard of that stuff happening overseas too, but IED's were more common place.”

Taking a bite of her now half eaten burger, Nell thought or a moment or two as she chewed the mouthful. Swallowing, her eyes flicked back towards Sarita. “It's a shame those people were dead but, they likely stopped and were ambushed. It's why you never stop for an accident in the back country unless you seen it happen or it obviously just happened.” Her nose wrinkled a little. “Sometimes, they use babies. Either a car seat, a fake baby, or even a real one. Human nature dictates we stop and help, but it ends up meaning that you get killed and they make off with your belongings.”

Another bite of burger, more chewing, more swallowing, and another sip of her drink. “Really, when you come across situations like that in back country, and you didn't see the accident happen? Make sure the doors are locked, and get the hell out of there then give the authorities a call once you're down the road.” She sent a slight glance around the diner, where people were eating and enjoying their lunch. A thought dawned on her, and those bright blue eyes were on Sarita again. “Oh and if you get eggs thrown at your windshield? Don't use your wipers, they'll just spread like crazy and make it harder to see.”

{I remember us talking about that being just for the part, hope it's okay I actually used it? And also this PSA brought to you by Nell? xD}

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Sarita knew damn well that the sticks had all kinds of things happen. She had hitch-hiked through counties known for their meth dealers, slept on trains in seedy railyards, and nearly been mugged more times than she could count. It felt a little condescending to be told the nature of things, although she did keep the comment about the babies in mind. She hadn't yet heard of that little trick, and would be wise to look out for it in the future.

But Nell would never know the singer's slight displeasure. Instead, Sarita nodded and said, "I'll keep that in mind. You mentioned eggs, as well — am I correct in my feeling that you know this truth from experience?"

She laughed, taking another bite of her sandwich. She was about to take another when her name was called, and she turned her head towards the stage. Two of the kitchen workers were motioning to her, and the busker smiled and grabbed her guitar. Turning her head back to Nell, she muttered, "Be right back," before hopping out of the booth and scurrying up to the stage. She took a moment to adjust her trademark, bohemian attire, and removed her guitar from its heavy black casing.

Clearing her throat gently, Sarita leaned into the microphone. With a polite smile to the audience at hand, she said, "Hello everyone! I hope you're having a wonderful lunch. My name is Rita, and I'll be playing for you this afternoon."

She pulled up her instrument a little, strumming a couple of chords to make sure the tuning was right.

"This first song is a cover of Brandi Carlile's 'Raise Hell', from her Bear Creek album. I hope you all enjoy it as much as you enjoy the food here."

Soundtrack: Raise Hell - Brandi Carlile (4:08)

The twang of the musical interlude filled the dinner with quick, clear notes. When it came time to sing, Sarita's Latin accent slipped a little, more pronounced in her rich and lilting notes. A folksy soprano took centre stage, melancholic but fierce as it belted out:

"I've been down with a broken heart
Since the day I learned to speak;
The devil gave me a crooked start
When he gave me crooked feet.
But Gabriel done came to me,
And kissed me in my sleep —
And I'll be singing like an angel
Until I'm six feet deep...!"