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[color=669900][h2]～  ～  ～  ～  ～  ～  ～  ～  ～  ～[/h2][/color][img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/6c203bcebd0f8faa79144ac24e8cac78/tumblr_nkxq6qT7Bs1spztiao1_250.gif[/img][hr][sub][color=669900]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/color][/sub]
[sub][color=dimgray][color=669900][b]Location | [/b][/color] Red Rock
[b][color=669900]Time |  [/color][/b] 8:35 PM
[b][color=669900]Interacting with |[/color][/b] Himself [color=669900][b]－－>[/b][/color] Everyone Present  [/color][/sub]
[sub][color=669900]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/color][/sub]
[hr][img]https://media.giphy.com/media/l49JRQC9RNa5j35a8/giphy.gif[/img]

[color=669900][i]"...It's been a few days since the start of my journey eastward, so far it's been great, I hit the Nevada desert today with the help of a truck driver and we had an excellent conversation. He told me all of his aspirations in life, all the places he's traveled, about his family and ailing mother. I offered my words and condolences, asked him if there was anything I could do, any form of compensation for picking up a wandering traveler such as myself. He declined, but he did appreciate the conversation, noting that he picked up travelers all the time for moments like these. Knowing where my destination was, he stopped at an intersection a few hours into our trip (somewhere near Baker, CA) and told me to keep on heading northeast, that it would get me to the southern most point in Nevada; Red Rock. He mentioned there was a camping ground there and I could probably make it in a day or two if I traveled fast enough. So far, I seem to be making great time, while a day has passed, today's sun is only starting to truly set and while darkness is beginning to spread, there's an idle light off in the distance. Hopefully whoever it belongs to, will allow me to camp with them, it would be nice to sleep among the company of others..."[/i][/color][hr]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/CpwmXjm.png[/img][/center]
Closing the worn out journal, Hugo stuffed the container of his current history and knowledge into his backpack; a traveler's pack filled with his worldly (if not smelly) possessions. A smile on his face, and a song in his heart, he continued on his journey east, placing the pencil he'd been writing with back into the handy human slot of his ear and temple. The graphite was rather worn down from his writing and the wood was terribly short from it's length due to his writing, but there was something endearing about using a pencil over pen. While it's true that his notebook was filled with several different types of ink and lead, something about using a pencil made it almost poetic. His memory was terrible, he'd known that from a young age, but using a pencil was almost like the real thing for him. Ink can be burned on the paper it is pressed into, but lead and graphite can be chosen to be erased; ergo while Hugo's memory was burned from him every day like ink, a pencil was his choice to burn that memory, it gave a sense of control. This all being said, Hugo was not one to abandon a memory that he experienced, and he's never chosen to 'burn' a memory that he's written down. He had the choice to remove a memory if he wanted to, but to Hugo, life was an experience he never wanted to forget, thus he wrote everything down, including the group of youths he was about to stumble upon.

The trucker had indeed been right, noting that there was a campsite in this area, it would certainly be more preferable than sleeping on the sandy ground, using a rock as a pillow in the harsh Nevada desert... well it would most likely still be the same given the circumstances of the group in front of him. As Hugo approached he noticed many of the faces there seemed either defeated, disheveled, or down right disappointed. Most likely not the best group to approach, but given his nature he couldn't help but at least try to interact with these youthful individuals who looked nearly a decade younger than him. As he got closer he called out to them.

[color=669900]"Bonjour Monsieurs~! Mademoiselles~! A fine night around the fire, no?!"[/color]

Without necessarily asking permission, he un-slung his backpack in between a couple of the members of the group there and sat down on it. Noticing the music playing on their device he couldn't help but take the guitar off his back and harmonize to notes being played, strumming his fingers along the strings, matching note for note in real time to the radio playing. Looking around to the group, a wide smile on his face he spoke, [color=669900]"My apologies [i]les amis[/i] if I interrupted, I am simply another traveler looking to explore the world and your fire seemed so inviting."[/color] Continuing to strum along, looking down to his guitar and occasionally tuning it, he looked back and, same wide smile as before, [color=669900]"How has your day been?"[/color]