[img]https://i.imgur.com/LRAv5VR.png[/img]

Kalen Fiaccola was not having a good day.

In fact, the past 24 hours had been among the worst of his life. Not the absolute worst, mind. That distinction belonged to the day before his Magick awakened, when he was convinced he was having some kind of psychotic break. Then the church had burned down, which caused no small amount of relief – [u]he wasn’t crazy[/u] – and then a subsequent wash of guilt that he’d been relieved by an event that had claimed multiple lives.

The only other day that had been even close to that awful was the time he was 14, went to Christopher Andretti’s birthday party and got busted smooching the birthday boy in the hall closet. In retrospect, that hadn’t ended too terribly. Once the teenage mortification died down anyway. He and Chris had gone to the junior prom together, he’d been an excellent first boyfriend. He and Jin had gone to Chris’ wedding last year and laughed about the whole thing.

So as far as the list of shitty days, this would be a solid second. Since he’d arrived in Las Vegas, he’d managed to lose his bags in the back of the Uber, dropped his phone in a gross puddle on the strip, and was already sporting a nasty sunburn on the back of his neck since his good sunscreen was in his bag, in the back of the aforementioned Uber, who had vanished to parts unknown. Thank God he hadn’t packed the ring in there, otherwise the whole trip would have been a very expensive disaster.

If things had gone properly, he would have met his beloved Jin at the top floor of the second fanciest hotel in Vegas. He’d gone over the words of his proposal so many times he could confess his undying love in his sleep. Everything had been ready. Not perfect, but as close as he could get it.

But Jin hadn’t shown up for dinner last night. Or answered his many calls since. It would be one thing if they was the type of person to flake on a moment’s notice, but no. They were probably one of the smartest, well organized people Kalen had ever met. One hour had turned into two, had turned into three, had turned into sympathetic glances and whispers from the servers, a comped bottle of unopened champagne, and a morning of subtle but increasing panic.

Something was wrong. His Magick had been whispering it since he got off the plane, buzzing at the back of his senses like a fly. But he’d honestly thought he was just nervous. Who wouldn’t be? After he’d given in and gone back to his hotel, he’d made a valiant attempt at a location spell. One tea candle, one precise thirty second alarm on his watch, one single question – 

[color=#738FCE][b]“Where is Jinayah Ifriti right now?”[/b][/color]

He’d shielded the tiny flame while slipping out the back door of the hotel where it seemed to push opposite of the wind. Pointing him down the neon lit streets, down a dumpster alley, and suddenly -  shoulder to shoulder with a stranger carrying two massive trash bags. To his shame, he’d dropped it. He’d dropped the candle upon contact, and after apologies given and waved off, picked it up again.

It was too late. The flame was snuffed. Nothing but a haze of smoke that his powers couldn’t grasp the direction of. 

To his further shame, he’d tucked his back against the greasy brick and simply cried for a few minutes. He felt like he used to as a kid: overwhelmed with anxiety to a degree that made his vision narrow and skin prickle with panic. 

Once he’d calmed enough to speak, he lifted his phone to his ear. His Avatar didn’t have a phone number, but no one looked at you weird when you talked to yourself with a device to your ear.  [color=#738FCE]“Alessandra… what am I supposed to do now? Should I go back and try again?”[/color]

She didn’t always answer, but it was useful advice when she did. 

[color=ed145b]“Chin up. Look ahead.”[/color]

Usually useful, anyway.

[color=#738FCE]“I appreciate the pep talk, I’m good now, but I really need to know what to-”[/color] The lightest pressure struck the back of his head, like a delicate smack to corral a misbehaving child. 

[color=ed145b]“Look. Ahead.”[/color]

She wasn’t always a woman of words. Kalen took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his head as he straightened up. He figured that she was just telling him to man up, in so many words – until he caught the edge of a poker chip against the harsh city lights. 

[color=#738FCE]“What the hell… that’s a 10k chip, isn’t it?”[/color] He hadn’t bothered to step into any of the casinos yet. Jin – and the lack of Jin - had taken focus. [color=#738FCE]“Damn.”[/color] He picked it up, and then looked around. Did the trash guy drop it? But that had been several minutes ago, and he had no idea where the stranger had come from or gone to. 

[color=#738FCE]“Well. Maybe I can get my screen replaced if I cash this.”[/color] Maybe his luck was turning around.

-

Or maybe he was going to die in some random drug deal in an alley. Kalen was facing a very random assortment of men. One of them looked strung out, one of them was dealing cards like a retiree on a Sunday morning, did that guy have a gun? - and all of them made his senses bristle. 

This whole situation smelled, and it wasn’t the rust and rot that was doing it.

[color=#738FCE]“Heh… This is [b]not[/b] my hotel, Google Maps.”[/color] He found himself smiling in what he hoped was a placating way. Slowly, his fingernails clicked against the wood of his rosary, a calming motion. He’d dealt with weird before – he was from Chicago, cities were just like that sometimes. Best to not make any sudden moves.
 
[color=#738FCE]"Any of you fine gents know where the nearest bus stop is?" [/color]