Room 315 ((Lock))

Wren hated airports, always had. The smell of them made her stomach hurt and her nostrils burn. Nachton International was no different. The smell of stale frying oil, stagnant air, and too many people plunged into her nose and made her gag as she disembarked from her plane. What surprised her was the underlying smell of earth and growing things. She looked up, as she hitched her backpack up on her shoulder, to see plants and topiaries everywhere.

She was impressed that they had even tried to do something with the place. Most cities didn't care, they just wanted you to board your plane, and get you to point B all in one piece and by that they mean the plane is safe enough to make another flight. Not that your ride was smooth and you didn't spill soda all down your favorite blouse because they hit turbulence right as you were taking a drink. Nope that didn't matter a bit.

She smiled at the plants, a real smile too, as she headed toward the baggage claim. There she stood with the eighty other people from her flight staring at the big silver oval, hoping praying that -this- time our luggage comes whisking down the shoot and we won't have to deal with the lost luggage counter, like that one time. She fidgeted while the guy next to her, decided she was much more interesting than the shiny oval. She was really hoping she wouldn't have to deck him for grabbing her ass.

Finally the red light above the shoot started flashing and a buzzer sounded, which started the oval in motion. Shortly suitcases were whizzing out of the shoot to land with a thump on the oval. Until one very large, black case got turned at an angle and stuck in the chute. Wren did everything she could not to react any differently than anyone else, as it was her bag. She felt her cheeks pink, then suddenly the other suitcases rammed her's enough to sending it sliding down to join the merry-go-round below. She didn't pick it up, but just let it circle with the others. Lucky for her, her second case didn't have such a mis-hap and she pulled it off the carousel with just a little bit of struggle. When she stumbled backwards, lecher-guy grabbed her to keep her falling. She jerked away with a muttered thanks and set her case down. The first one came back around to her again and she pulled it off with the same damn results. Sighing she offered the man a smile and what she hoped sounded like a genuine thank you.

She raised up their pull handles and did her best to leave the baggage claim with as much dignity as possible. The automatic doors whooshed open and threw a fine powder in her face. 'Shit. I hate snow.' Well not really, only when it hindered her plans. This just looked like a flurry and she didn't mind flurries so much.

She crossed the busy white zone to the line of taxi cabs and the sky cap waiting to put her in one. He chose the first one, classic yellow with black squares. He took her bags, and placed them in the quickly opened trunk. He then turned and opened the back door for her. She dug in her pocket and produced a tip for him, before climbing in.

The cabby was a wide-eyed guy, that looked like he'd seen better days. His dark hair was disheveled and unclean, and his gray shirt was wrinkled and stained.

"Where to lady?"Â?

"Oh, a relatively inexpensive hotel that's close to the city's down town."Â?
"The whole city is "Down town"Â? I'll take you to the Comfort Inn on the strip. It's cheap, and they have free coffee."Â?

"Sounds perfect, thanks..."Â? She peer at his name tag on the dash "Tommy."Â?

"Anytime, lady."Â? This was followed by a rather expeditious exit from the airport. She scooted to one side and buckled her seat belt. Normally she wouldn't care, but this guy scared the shit out of her.

Ten minutes and minor traffic later, she was being placed on the doorstep of The Comfort Inn on the busiest pedestrian street she had ever seen in her short life.

"Holy shit."Â?

The cabby laughed "Takes getting used to. Welcome to Nachton, lady."Â?

"Yeah, guess so."Â? She dug in her pocket again and handed him a tip and cab fare, with a smile. "Thanks."Â?

She turned to the building and dragging her cases behind her, went inside. Procuring a room for an indefinite amount of time, was much more difficult that she thought it should be, but a hefty tip to the desk clerk made things go a little smoother. Keycard in hand she drug herself and her suitcases up to room 315, the only one they had and it even had a view of The Strip. 'Lucky me.'