[ He senses the hesitation, but doesn't say anything about it for now. If it persists it'll become a problem. If it's temporary, well, he'll be annoyed but he can't say he doesn't deserve it. ]
I don't think there's anything left for us in this world. [ No more Vegas. Most of the people left are lone wanderers or people who've already fallen to Boulder's sway. Flagg's done with it all. Damn the old witch and her cohorts, they can toil onwards in a dead world for all he cares.
This world's moved on, as an old friend of his might say. Trying to bring it back's a futile endeavor. ]
But there are other worlds. Lots of 'em. Some like Earth, some not. We could go to a different decade, or to a world where Kennedy wasn't assassinated, or one where the superflu never hit. We could even go to mine, though it's not much to look at these days. [ He takes a few steps away from Lloyd, hands on his hips as he surveys the horizon like open frontier. ] The universe is our oyster.
[ Bribing Lloyd with the promises of alternate universes and time travel will, he hopes, interest him enough to stick by his side for a while.
Or he could stay here, alone. If he really wants to. But who wants to be alone in an apocalypse? ]
[ Flagg went through the effort of bringing him back, so he's at least confident in the fact that he's wanted around. He even brought him an outfit with a little flair and his favorite ring.. so he's trying to make peace in the way that he can. Lloyd's not making it easy for him, but he's not going to apologize. He thinks his feelings are justified, given the circumstances.
He's confused by this world, but thankfully doesn't have to wait long for an explanation. With someone like Flagg, it shouldn't come as a surprise that there's more than one possibility. That man's not of any sort of earth Lloyd knows about, so it's not out of the question. Something like this is probably easy peasy for someone like him. Not for someone like Lloyd, who feels a bit dumbfounded and hooked once again on those velvety sweet words promising a different life- things he couldn't imagine.
He's had enough of being alone, and he'd promised to worship the ground the dark man walked upon. He'll still do it, but his whole heart's not in it yet. ]
You want to come with me. [ He chuckles. Just like 'follow me or die in prison', 'come with me or stay here' isn't much of a choice. Nonetheless, Lloyd's decision pleases him. ]
Any requests?
[ Like he's a rock star who wants to play Lloyd's favorite song. Pick a time, pick a place, baby. ]
[ Where would he even go if he didn't follow Flagg? He couldn't go to Boulder after everything that happened, and he certainly wouldn't make it there on his own.
Left with endless possibilities of where to go, Lloyd doesn't know where to even begin and he shakes his head. ]
[ It is a lot, for someone who's been stuck in one world their entire life, to take their pick of them now. If they don't like the one they end up in, they can always leave, anyway.
He reaches out like he's twisting an invisible doorknob, and the fabric of reality itself seems to tear when he pulls it back, leaving a doorway-sized portal to another world. It's night time, in a big city full of lights (if Flagg had to guess he'd say New York) and perhaps most surprisingly to Lloyd, full of people. Far from the desolation of this world. ] Bid farewell to your home-world; you'll probably never see it again.
[ But before Lloyd has time to get a word in, Flagg's arm is wrapped around his shoulders and he's being dragged through the door. It was somewhat sarcastic, anyway, leaving your home-world for good can be sad but Lloyd was never treated like anything but garbage in his until Flagg came along. What was there to miss?
Going through the door is kind of like that sensation of falling you get sometimes when you're half-asleep. A quick rush that knocks the wind out of you, then you realize you're still on solid ground. There's the ambiance of people chatting as they walk by, the air is cold (Flagg guesses by the way his breath comes out like steam, he doesn't really feel cold anymore), and no one seems to take active notice of the two new arrivals although some people seem briefly unsettled and then cross the street to avoid them.
Darkness folds around the two travelers like a comforting blanket. At night and in the shadows they'll be seen only when they want to be seen. See? That's a perk! Flagg looks around at the lighted billboards for any sign of the date, and though he can't make out an exact day he finds one advertising an upcoming concert on October 20th, 1981. ]
Ha. Will ya look at that? [ He stares up at the billboard. ] I'll bet you weren't even a twinkle in your mama's eye in 1981.
[ Which is to say: yes, they're in another world. Yes, they're in another time. Take it all in! ]
[ Lloyd watches Flagg, transfixed at this new display of power he's displaying. It's like he sliced a hole in the world and they're looking out the other side of a mirror. He doesn't understand it, but that's just one of the things about Flagg- who can understand all of it? Trying would likely end up with a case of insanity and a padded room.
He casts the ruins of Vegas another brief glance before Flagg ushers him through the door. Ain't nothin' to fucking miss, is there? Anybody he'd have lamented is as dead and gone as he was and it doesn't make a damn bit of difference if he feels a hint of sadness about it. It'd been fun, shit went wayside. ]
Good riddance is what I say.
[ It feels like his stomach drops and he can feel himself jolt, like catching himself from starting awake, but his feet never leave the ground that he's aware of. The chilly air sends a shiver up his spine and he crosses his arms in front of himself, hunching a bit closer to Flagg. He lets out a surprised huff of air when his attention is drawn to the billboard. 1981... how about that.
For once, he's at a loss for words, just drinking in the sights and letting it sink in that this is real. ]
This means Bowie and Freddie Mercury are still alive and kickin'. [ Because that's what he's supposed to take away from this experience. ]
[ Flagg blinks slowly, watching Lloyd take it all in. He's here in a new world with the embodiment of all things evil at his side and yet his face lights up at the thought of his favorite rock stars being alive and well.
Humans were absorbed with such trifles. He's angry at himself for finding it endearing, leaning down to plant a kiss on Lloyd's forehead. ]
I can get us a real good spot at Live Aid, you know. [ He's not joking; he's been to plenty of legendary concerts in his time. When there isn't a world to destroy he just kind of strolls around causing minor chaos and doing as he pleases. ]
[ There were so many great things about the eighties that he'd only experienced through movies or watching MTV reruns in shitty motels. For a brief moment, he forgets that he's supposed to be mad at Flagg, chest swelling with warmth. He looks up at him like he hung the stars in the sky just for Lloyd.
He's done it once before, maybe he'll work up to it again.. ]
Really?! [ He clears his throat, containing himself. ] That'd be cool as hell.. if we're not supposed to be here for somethin' else.
The people who're doing what they're supposed to do are back in Boulder.
[ Okay, it's not quite that simple. He's got a purpose like everyone else and when the grand forces of fate call out to him again he'll have no choice but to answer, like he always does.
Until then, he can give destiny the finger. As aware as he is of his place on the cosmic scale he can find his own ways to be defiant. No one could say Randall Flagg didn't put up a damn good fight. ]
I'm not called upon for some great purpose too often. [ If he could cause an apocalypse every day he would, but no. They're rare. ] We can do whatever we want in the meantime. And if you fuck up, there are other worlds than this.
[ So go ahead and do all the wild shit you've always dreamed of, basically. If Flagg can nudge Lloyd over towards some darker pursuits, he'll happily do so, but that's a process. He'll take it slow. ]
[ The only difference this time is that Flagg won't have to answer the calls of fate alone. Not that Lloyd will offer much in the grand scheme of things aside from his adoration. Humans are minuscule beings in the wake of something like Flagg. The prospect of unlimited worlds, unlimited tries, and the ability to do whatever they want is intense. Even in Vegas, the options weren't limitless. There was still some semblance of order, he had a job to do, after all, but there was always time to live in excess.
Lloyd casts him a skeptical look, eyebrows raised as he huffs indignantly. ]
What makes you say I'm gonna fuck up? [ Look at your life, look at your choices, Lloyd. That's how. ]
You can do anything, and you're never going to take the opportunity to be a little reckless? [ He raises an eyebrow at Lloyd, accusatory. Yeah right. ] Don't tell me I'm traveling with a law-abiding citizen.
[ Flagg's laws are good and need to be obeyed. Everyone else's laws can suck a dick. ]
'Course I'll be reckless, but I know a little better about navigatin' it now, don't I?
[ He hadn't had a damn clue before, had he? Yeah, he'd wanted a bit of discretion when he and Poke were doing their crime spree, but that didn't really work out the best. Well.. It ended up being the best thing for Lloyd right until it bit him in the ass and killed him. ]
We'll see. [ He claps Lloyd on the back, still fully expecting him to piss off a mob boss or something eventually.
There's a bar nearby that looks shady as hell; the type of place you'd go to if you want to buy coke or get in a knife fight or both. Perfect. ] You fancy a drink?
[ For the time being, his anger toward Flagg is all but gone, forgotten in the midst of their change of scenery. He's still a bit giddy thinking about all the prospects this new world will hold. The bar is just as seedy on the inside as it is on the outside, which means Lloyd loves it for what it is. Shithole bars are the best ones to start at.
Leave it to him to say the wrong thing to somebody without even realizing who he's talking to. ]
[ At a better bar, baby-faced Lloyd would have been ID'd at the door. Flagg can't tell if it's his own unsettling presence that prevented the bouncer from asking or if he just didn't give a damn. ]
What do you want? It's on me.
[ It better be, because Lloyd didn't have any money in those tight pockets of his. Flagg takes a seat at the bar and anyone sitting too close to him looks as if a cold chill has just washed over them, and they get up and slink away like dogs with their tails between their legs. ]
[ One of the many grand perks of traveling with Flagg is that people don't ask too many questions. Granted, there weren't many people around to ask questions the first time Lloyd joined up with him. ]
How 'bout a long island.
[ Something strong and sweet.
Lloyd joins him at the bar in one of the newly vacated seats and has a look around. It's a run of the mill dive bar with a sticky floor, split bar stools repaired with duct tape, and a bathroom probably rife with hepatitis, blow jobs in broken stalls, and drug deals. ]
[ The bartender turns to face them silently, as if in a daze ]. A long island for my friend, and a white russian for me. Keep 'em coming, too.
[ And the bartender obeys, mixing up the two drinks and depositing them in front of Flagg and Lloyd before returning to conversation with other customers like nothing happened. Flagg giggles, taking a sip of his drink. People are so fun to toy with.
Speaking of: ] You want some entertainment?
[ He glances over his shoulder. A few middle aged guys playing pool. Tensions seem to be running a little high, he could easily start something. ]
[ Lloyd takes up his drink with a grin, looking up and down the bar at the other patrons. It's always fun to see Flagg mess with people, though there is that small part that doesn't like the idea of it being done to himself.
His attention turns to Flagg and he looks over toward the pool table, half turned in his seat. ]
How entertainin' could two old fucks playing pool be?
[ One of them steps away to go to the washroom, and Flagg takes notice. Now's his time. ]
You just sit back and watch. [ He stands up, making his way to the washroom where he leans against the doorframe and waits outside. He's not a schoolgirl, he has no use for gabbin' in some shit-stained public washroom.
As soon as the man gets out of the washroom, Flagg swings an arm around his shoulder like an old friend, grins wide and vicious, whispers something in his ear, and returns to the bar to take another sip of his drink. ] Any second now.
[ Like clockwork, the guy Flagg spoke to throws a punch at one of his competitors, yelling something about being a cheating bastard trying to swindle him out of his rent. There's a special kind of rage in him, one that Flagg almost certainly instilled, one that passes through his white knuckles and into the other guy's jawbone like a disease until soon all four of 'em are fighting like rabid dogs.
Flagg watches like a kid at the circus. He's even conjured up a little red-and-white striped bag of popcorn to enjoy the show with. ]
[ Lloyd does as he's told, spinning his barstool fully around so he can lean his back against the bar and cross his legs. He sips idly at his drink, eyes following Flagg until he disappears back toward the dirty bathrooms. When he comes back, there's a wicked grin that reminds him of the big bad wolf. What large teeth you have.. Or maybe the Cheshire cat poem about the crocodile.
How cheerfully he seems to grin, how neatly spreads his claws, and welcomes little fishes in with gently smiling jaws.
It's like witnessing the gladiator pit with less frill and no weapons. The carnage is about the same in spirit, bloodthirsty and begging for some broken teeth. Some poor bastard trying to act like a bouncer tries to break it up but gets an elbow to the face for all his trouble. Lloyd half turns in his seat so he can shake his empty glass at the bartender and pick up another drink. One thing he loves about shit bars is they definitely don't skimp on the liquor. ]
Damn, what'd you even say to 'im? [ He watches, unconcerned as one of the burly pool players hits the ground, out for the count. ]
[ Yet another talent of Flagg's: he could list off the toppings on a pizza for all he cared and by the time it reached the other person's ears it would've been twisted into something that sent them into a maddened rage. The words were secondary to the intent. Maybe you don't hold a single grudge, but that still doesn't protect you from the Dark Man's siren song of hatred.
A tall, decorative plant sitting in a ceramic pot in the corner of the room starts to wilt. ]
You're gonna want to drink faster if you want a good buzz going. [ Assuming the version of Lloyd that was necromanced could still get drunk. Boy, would he be furious if he couldn't. ] I imagine they'll be kicking us all out soon.
[ But for now, the brawl continues, each splatter of blood making him lick his teeth. The hypnotized bartender keeps bringing drinks at their request, and doesn't even ask for payment. ]
[ He doesn't need to be told twice, knocking back what he's got in a few mouthfuls so he can pick up the pace. After being brought back from the dead, he deserves a buzz at the very least. So far, he's not feeling it, but he can probably chalk it up to feeling keyed up before he started drinking. It'll probably hit him before they get kicked out. That's what he tells himself, anyway. ]
You think?
[ Watching the chaos spread is really something else. What started with two ended up involving four, then six as others tried to break up the fight, only to be dragged further into it. One thing's for sure, whatever darkness has taken hold of them spreads a hell of a lot faster than Trips. Lloyd takes a few moments to watch Flagg taking in the chaos he'd caused with that almost hungry look. ]
[ Flagg sips his drink slowly. He's not seeking a buzz; he's long since given up on that. No, the only buzz he'd get was from violence and hatred and chaos, like the kind going on in front of them right now. The taste is what satisfies him, and the fire that goes down his throat. He can still feel that. ]
I think at least one of these gents is gonna pass out in the drunk tank and never wake up. [ Another sip. ] But we'll be curled up all cozy-like in the shadows of some dark alleyway by then.
[ It doesn't even cross his mind that Lloyd might be bothered by the prospect of hunkering down on cold concrete. It was how Flagg rested when he travelled alone, sinking so deep into the shadows that he was near invisible until night fell and he roamed the streets with bright eyes and a brighter grin once more. He'd never had a companion in times like this, and whatever humanity remained in him wasn't enough to make him stop and consider that Lloyd, who was mostly human, would want a proper bed.
Whatever, if Lloyd complained he'd find a motel or something. ]
[ He finishes his current drink, chewing on a few ice cubes as the chaos continues to grow and Flagg talks next to him. It's hard to imagine which one of them is going to fall asleep and not wake up, because it could be any of them, but he doesn't really care about one drunk nobody. When those last words sink in, Lloyd's attention focuses on Flagg in disappointed surprise. ]
We're gonna sleep outside? ...In an alley?
[ It's an extreme step down from Vegas. He knows that it wouldn't be the same, but sleeping outside was for campers and hobos. Neither of which is anything Lloyd considers himself to be. ]
[ He stares at Lloyd for a moment, and there's something almost hurt in his eyes, or maybe it's just the way the light catches that makes him look that way. Hard to imagine a thing like Flagg being hurt. ]
That's my nature, Lloyd. Outside, in the shadows. [ Would Lloyd accept the real Randall Flagg without the glamour of Vegas? Who knows. He thinks he's more fun like this. No stress of running an empire, he can do as he pleases and go where the wind takes him. Where he might have snapped at Lloyd for questioning him in Vegas, here he just shrugs.
Lloyd - delicate as humans were - probably just wanted some place warm and soft to lay his head. Alright, fine. ]
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I don't think there's anything left for us in this world. [ No more Vegas. Most of the people left are lone wanderers or people who've already fallen to Boulder's sway. Flagg's done with it all. Damn the old witch and her cohorts, they can toil onwards in a dead world for all he cares.
This world's moved on, as an old friend of his might say. Trying to bring it back's a futile endeavor. ]
But there are other worlds. Lots of 'em. Some like Earth, some not. We could go to a different decade, or to a world where Kennedy wasn't assassinated, or one where the superflu never hit. We could even go to mine, though it's not much to look at these days. [ He takes a few steps away from Lloyd, hands on his hips as he surveys the horizon like open frontier. ] The universe is our oyster.
[ Bribing Lloyd with the promises of alternate universes and time travel will, he hopes, interest him enough to stick by his side for a while.
Or he could stay here, alone. If he really wants to. But who wants to be alone in an apocalypse? ]
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He's confused by this world, but thankfully doesn't have to wait long for an explanation. With someone like Flagg, it shouldn't come as a surprise that there's more than one possibility. That man's not of any sort of earth Lloyd knows about, so it's not out of the question. Something like this is probably easy peasy for someone like him. Not for someone like Lloyd, who feels a bit dumbfounded and hooked once again on those velvety sweet words promising a different life- things he couldn't imagine.
He's had enough of being alone, and he'd promised to worship the ground the dark man walked upon. He'll still do it, but his whole heart's not in it yet. ]
So long as you don't leave me behind.
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Any requests?
[ Like he's a rock star who wants to play Lloyd's favorite song. Pick a time, pick a place, baby. ]
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Left with endless possibilities of where to go, Lloyd doesn't know where to even begin and he shakes his head. ]
Anywhere but here.
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[ It is a lot, for someone who's been stuck in one world their entire life, to take their pick of them now. If they don't like the one they end up in, they can always leave, anyway.
He reaches out like he's twisting an invisible doorknob, and the fabric of reality itself seems to tear when he pulls it back, leaving a doorway-sized portal to another world. It's night time, in a big city full of lights (if Flagg had to guess he'd say New York) and perhaps most surprisingly to Lloyd, full of people. Far from the desolation of this world. ] Bid farewell to your home-world; you'll probably never see it again.
[ But before Lloyd has time to get a word in, Flagg's arm is wrapped around his shoulders and he's being dragged through the door. It was somewhat sarcastic, anyway, leaving your home-world for good can be sad but Lloyd was never treated like anything but garbage in his until Flagg came along. What was there to miss?
Going through the door is kind of like that sensation of falling you get sometimes when you're half-asleep. A quick rush that knocks the wind out of you, then you realize you're still on solid ground. There's the ambiance of people chatting as they walk by, the air is cold (Flagg guesses by the way his breath comes out like steam, he doesn't really feel cold anymore), and no one seems to take active notice of the two new arrivals although some people seem briefly unsettled and then cross the street to avoid them.
Darkness folds around the two travelers like a comforting blanket. At night and in the shadows they'll be seen only when they want to be seen. See? That's a perk! Flagg looks around at the lighted billboards for any sign of the date, and though he can't make out an exact day he finds one advertising an upcoming concert on October 20th, 1981. ]
Ha. Will ya look at that? [ He stares up at the billboard. ] I'll bet you weren't even a twinkle in your mama's eye in 1981.
[ Which is to say: yes, they're in another world. Yes, they're in another time. Take it all in! ]
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He casts the ruins of Vegas another brief glance before Flagg ushers him through the door. Ain't nothin' to fucking miss, is there? Anybody he'd have lamented is as dead and gone as he was and it doesn't make a damn bit of difference if he feels a hint of sadness about it. It'd been fun, shit went wayside. ]
Good riddance is what I say.
[ It feels like his stomach drops and he can feel himself jolt, like catching himself from starting awake, but his feet never leave the ground that he's aware of. The chilly air sends a shiver up his spine and he crosses his arms in front of himself, hunching a bit closer to Flagg. He lets out a surprised huff of air when his attention is drawn to the billboard. 1981... how about that.
For once, he's at a loss for words, just drinking in the sights and letting it sink in that this is real. ]
This means Bowie and Freddie Mercury are still alive and kickin'. [ Because that's what he's supposed to take away from this experience. ]
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Humans were absorbed with such trifles. He's angry at himself for finding it endearing, leaning down to plant a kiss on Lloyd's forehead. ]
I can get us a real good spot at Live Aid, you know. [ He's not joking; he's been to plenty of legendary concerts in his time. When there isn't a world to destroy he just kind of strolls around causing minor chaos and doing as he pleases. ]
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He's done it once before, maybe he'll work up to it again.. ]
Really?! [ He clears his throat, containing himself. ] That'd be cool as hell.. if we're not supposed to be here for somethin' else.
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[ Okay, it's not quite that simple. He's got a purpose like everyone else and when the grand forces of fate call out to him again he'll have no choice but to answer, like he always does.
Until then, he can give destiny the finger. As aware as he is of his place on the cosmic scale he can find his own ways to be defiant. No one could say Randall Flagg didn't put up a damn good fight. ]
I'm not called upon for some great purpose too often. [ If he could cause an apocalypse every day he would, but no. They're rare. ] We can do whatever we want in the meantime. And if you fuck up, there are other worlds than this.
[ So go ahead and do all the wild shit you've always dreamed of, basically. If Flagg can nudge Lloyd over towards some darker pursuits, he'll happily do so, but that's a process. He'll take it slow. ]
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Lloyd casts him a skeptical look, eyebrows raised as he huffs indignantly. ]
What makes you say I'm gonna fuck up? [ Look at your life, look at your choices, Lloyd. That's how. ]
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[ Flagg's laws are good and need to be obeyed. Everyone else's laws can suck a dick. ]
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[ He hadn't had a damn clue before, had he? Yeah, he'd wanted a bit of discretion when he and Poke were doing their crime spree, but that didn't really work out the best. Well.. It ended up being the best thing for Lloyd right until it bit him in the ass and killed him. ]
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There's a bar nearby that looks shady as hell; the type of place you'd go to if you want to buy coke or get in a knife fight or both. Perfect. ] You fancy a drink?
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[ For the time being, his anger toward Flagg is all but gone, forgotten in the midst of their change of scenery. He's still a bit giddy thinking about all the prospects this new world will hold. The bar is just as seedy on the inside as it is on the outside, which means Lloyd loves it for what it is. Shithole bars are the best ones to start at.
Leave it to him to say the wrong thing to somebody without even realizing who he's talking to. ]
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What do you want? It's on me.
[ It better be, because Lloyd didn't have any money in those tight pockets of his. Flagg takes a seat at the bar and anyone sitting too close to him looks as if a cold chill has just washed over them, and they get up and slink away like dogs with their tails between their legs. ]
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How 'bout a long island.
[ Something strong and sweet.
Lloyd joins him at the bar in one of the newly vacated seats and has a look around. It's a run of the mill dive bar with a sticky floor, split bar stools repaired with duct tape, and a bathroom probably rife with hepatitis, blow jobs in broken stalls, and drug deals. ]
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[ The bartender turns to face them silently, as if in a daze ]. A long island for my friend, and a white russian for me. Keep 'em coming, too.
[ And the bartender obeys, mixing up the two drinks and depositing them in front of Flagg and Lloyd before returning to conversation with other customers like nothing happened. Flagg giggles, taking a sip of his drink. People are so fun to toy with.
Speaking of: ] You want some entertainment?
[ He glances over his shoulder. A few middle aged guys playing pool. Tensions seem to be running a little high, he could easily start something. ]
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His attention turns to Flagg and he looks over toward the pool table, half turned in his seat. ]
How entertainin' could two old fucks playing pool be?
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You just sit back and watch. [ He stands up, making his way to the washroom where he leans against the doorframe and waits outside. He's not a schoolgirl, he has no use for gabbin' in some shit-stained public washroom.
As soon as the man gets out of the washroom, Flagg swings an arm around his shoulder like an old friend, grins wide and vicious, whispers something in his ear, and returns to the bar to take another sip of his drink. ] Any second now.
[ Like clockwork, the guy Flagg spoke to throws a punch at one of his competitors, yelling something about being a cheating bastard trying to swindle him out of his rent. There's a special kind of rage in him, one that Flagg almost certainly instilled, one that passes through his white knuckles and into the other guy's jawbone like a disease until soon all four of 'em are fighting like rabid dogs.
Flagg watches like a kid at the circus. He's even conjured up a little red-and-white striped bag of popcorn to enjoy the show with. ]
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How cheerfully he seems to grin, how neatly spreads his claws, and welcomes little fishes in with gently smiling jaws.
It's like witnessing the gladiator pit with less frill and no weapons. The carnage is about the same in spirit, bloodthirsty and begging for some broken teeth. Some poor bastard trying to act like a bouncer tries to break it up but gets an elbow to the face for all his trouble. Lloyd half turns in his seat so he can shake his empty glass at the bartender and pick up another drink. One thing he loves about shit bars is they definitely don't skimp on the liquor. ]
Damn, what'd you even say to 'im? [ He watches, unconcerned as one of the burly pool players hits the ground, out for the count. ]
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[ Yet another talent of Flagg's: he could list off the toppings on a pizza for all he cared and by the time it reached the other person's ears it would've been twisted into something that sent them into a maddened rage. The words were secondary to the intent. Maybe you don't hold a single grudge, but that still doesn't protect you from the Dark Man's siren song of hatred.
A tall, decorative plant sitting in a ceramic pot in the corner of the room starts to wilt. ]
You're gonna want to drink faster if you want a good buzz going. [ Assuming the version of Lloyd that was necromanced could still get drunk. Boy, would he be furious if he couldn't. ] I imagine they'll be kicking us all out soon.
[ But for now, the brawl continues, each splatter of blood making him lick his teeth. The hypnotized bartender keeps bringing drinks at their request, and doesn't even ask for payment. ]
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You think?
[ Watching the chaos spread is really something else. What started with two ended up involving four, then six as others tried to break up the fight, only to be dragged further into it. One thing's for sure, whatever darkness has taken hold of them spreads a hell of a lot faster than Trips. Lloyd takes a few moments to watch Flagg taking in the chaos he'd caused with that almost hungry look. ]
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I think at least one of these gents is gonna pass out in the drunk tank and never wake up. [ Another sip. ] But we'll be curled up all cozy-like in the shadows of some dark alleyway by then.
[ It doesn't even cross his mind that Lloyd might be bothered by the prospect of hunkering down on cold concrete. It was how Flagg rested when he travelled alone, sinking so deep into the shadows that he was near invisible until night fell and he roamed the streets with bright eyes and a brighter grin once more. He'd never had a companion in times like this, and whatever humanity remained in him wasn't enough to make him stop and consider that Lloyd, who was mostly human, would want a proper bed.
Whatever, if Lloyd complained he'd find a motel or something. ]
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We're gonna sleep outside? ...In an alley?
[ It's an extreme step down from Vegas. He knows that it wouldn't be the same, but sleeping outside was for campers and hobos. Neither of which is anything Lloyd considers himself to be. ]
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That's my nature, Lloyd. Outside, in the shadows. [ Would Lloyd accept the real Randall Flagg without the glamour of Vegas? Who knows. He thinks he's more fun like this. No stress of running an empire, he can do as he pleases and go where the wind takes him. Where he might have snapped at Lloyd for questioning him in Vegas, here he just shrugs.
Lloyd - delicate as humans were - probably just wanted some place warm and soft to lay his head. Alright, fine. ]
We can find a motel.
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