#sawyer.

Hi [...] Sawyer! That is a nice and spontaneous way to meet new people. I am fond of Suspiria (the original), Eraserhead and Posession. Which ones do you like?

Location: Thane Autoshop 

Charlotte disliked dealing with car troubles. More specifically, the auto shop was one of her more dreaded visited locations in town. The entire atmosphere gave her a raging headache, and you never knew what kind of mechanic you’d end up with. Some were perfectly professional and fair and others just weren’t. But it wasn’t like she could put off repairs. She needed an operating car for work, errands, commitments, lugging around a toddler and all her equipment.

She rolled slowly into the Thane Autoshop parking lot, rounding the car to take a look at the flat tire before heading into the building. There were a few people milling about and Charlotte waited her turn, recognizing a few of the workers from town and elsewhere. “My back right tire has a flat. I’m guessing from all the construction a few streets over...uh, nails and stuff. Can that get fixed today? I don’t have an appointment-“ She stopped, snorting a laugh at herself, “Well, obviously.” It’s not like she had planned to damage one of her tires that afternoon for fun.

Even in Vegas, Reina’s always managed to keep tabs on what club members have gone in and come out of prison — more specifically in Olympus’s charter and especially when her brother in law had landed his ass inside. Sawyer Graves is one of them, a man with a vendetta that had apparently been solid contact to go to if you needed someone dead. Or at least, that’s what Reina’s heard. She’s never had the need to use his services, not when she’s got plenty of others at her disposal — at least not yet. To Reina, Sawyer’s just another kid she knew in high school that found himself elbows deep in the club before he could even finish. Of course, Reina had already followed Jason to Vegas by the time he patched in, but she knew his story just like she knew everyone else’s that’s involved in the club. And here they are now. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” she says, flashing the man a grin as she walks through the clubhouse doors. Otto’s there, his bike is parked outside, but she doesn’t know where and honestly, it’s not her priority at the moment. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t think I’d see you in this clubhouse for another half a decade. Good behavior my ass.”

THE CHILDREN OF THE NEW WORLD