Government Bailout

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Where: Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department

When: June 6, 2012; Evening

What: Shay finds herself in a spot of trouble, but luckily has a friend in need.

Having friends is always a lovely thing. Support group. People that make you laugh. People that let you cry.

People that bail you out.

Rylie dragged Zan along when she got the one phone call to come pick up her friend from the police station. The little yellow convertible left in the parking lot, the blonde who drives it is inside grumpily filling out paperwork to get the equally as blonde Shay out of the slammer. Her name is on way too much of this sort of paperwork.

But at least she's got the cash to cover this kind of emergency, although maybe that's not a surprise since her weekend lie is around partiers and frat boys that are so very likely to get themselves into trouble. It does get Shay let out from the colorful company of her fellow jailbirds, at least.

And nearby, while Rylie handles paperwork, is Zan. He's leaning over her shoulder just a little, eyeing the paperwork curiously. Despite running in similar social circles, he's had the luxury of being sheltered from experiences such as these. Mostly. As one form is completed he casually lifts it from the pile for closer examination.

"Rylie!" Shay's voice dives out of the general hum of the police station lobby, a vocal falcon amidst the pigeons. The girl walks beside a blaise faced policeman, lights up upon spotting her friend and bounces in place before going still for release. "Oh come on buddy, it's not like I'm a dangerous ex-con jumping bail," she mutters under her breath as the cuffs around her wrists are oh-so-slowly loosened and put away. But once the handcuffs are off, she gives the officer a winning, "Thanks Officer!" and slips over to Rylie and Zan's side. "Rylieee, friend, buddy, savior, can you believe there's these hardened criminals roaming the streets of Vegas out there and they ding me for what? Trespassing! I mean come on!" She doesn't take more than a second glance at the bail papers, but her gaze looks over to Zan and brows raise in question. "Hey there, cutie," she greets still smiling.

The paperwork is mostly boring. Name, card numbers, relationship to the accused (under which she wrote beleaguered bitch, as it turns out), and such legalese drenched boxes. When she adds the last to the pile and looks up, her gaze is mostly an indulgent one, if laced with a touch of almost motherly disappointment.

"If you'd stop to look where you're going once in a while, we might be able to avoid this next time," Rylie says, her lips curving into a smirk. Her arm slides around Shay's shoulder as she turns to Zan. "But, of course, then she'd miss her chance to see so many men in uniform all in the same place. Zan, this is my other bundle of trouble and eternal tourist, Shay. Shay, this is Zan. My boyfriend, so watch it with that cutie talk before I toss you back in there."

Shaking his head, Zan returns the paper to the pile, somewhere woefully out of order. Just in time to turn toward the squealing giddiness that seems so far out of place in a police station. A faint grin tugs at the corners of his mouth, though his brows raise as he looks from Shay to Rylie. A nod is tipped to the trespasser of the two. "Nice to meet you, Shay."

"Wh- tourist?! Please, I don't even live on the Strip!" Never mind that her apartment is only minutes' driving from it. Shay leans over on top of the forms to examine Zan thoughtfully. "Boyfriend? Really?" The innocent 'blonde' quality disappears from her expression as she takes that closer look; she really is taking him in with all intensity. "And here you are introducing him to me in the middle of a police station? Rylie, what kind of picture are you trying to paint of me, huh?"

"Oh shut up, you're such a tourist," Rylie says with a chuckle. "And hey, the locale is your fault. I didn't ask you to get yourself tossed in the slammer." She slides over to put her arm around Zan's waist, turning them toward the door and clearly expecting Shay to follow after. "You're gonna love this, though. Zan's in film school," she says over her shoulder just before she steps through the doors.

Zan passes a look to Rylie under Shay's scrutiny, amused and yet questioning at the same time. "Really," he answers, drawing the word out a little. "That's okay, isn't it? Do I get your approval?" It's all asked easily, joking, and followed by a hand lifting in a placating gesture. "Hey, no judgement from me on that one. At least she bailed you out." He slides an arm around Rylie's shoulders as she turns, heading along to the doors and the parking beyond.

"I wasn't tossed," Shay insists as they go, eyes slipping their gaze to the PDA going on. "Vegas' Finest are very polite, compared to LAPD." After shooting a short 'hey Jack!' to one of the bums sitting on the hard waiting room chair they pass by, she catches up with the comment about film school. "Whoa, really? A film student?" Zan is viewed in a whole new light, an admiring one, and for some it might be considered a calculating one. "Hm. Could be approved. UNLV? Or… eh, well the 'or' shouldn't matter so much right? The important thing is, how's your portfolio lookin'?"

Rylie just laughs at Shay's reaction before she hops over the driver's side door and settles in. "Get in, loser," she says to her friend, nodding toward the back, "Jailbirds in the back."

She turns to smile over at Zan, her amusement lingering. "Shay's into performance art. And I think we three should find somewhere appropriate for showing off." Showing off being a code phrase.

"UNLV," Zan answers, though it could be given. "Portfolio could always be better, but I've got projects and just finished my first year." He climbs into the passenger's side, further elaboration of his scholarly pursuits going paused when he catches Rylie's look. His brows tick upward slightly and he settles into the seat. "Sure, I think that'd be okay."

Shay puffs a sound of mock indignation at Rylie for the namecalling, but clearly isn't offended. But no protest is in the easy movement with which she plants a hand the side of the car and hops right in to the back all Dukes of Hazzard style.

The code isn't lost upon her, either. "Heck yeah performance arts. It's all about showing off. Take it you're in the arts too, Zan?" She grins widely, eyes shining in anticipation. "I think you ought to see the Urban Guerrillaz in action. See how good of a cinematographer you are. And you know you're gonna have a critic. That is, me. I'm L.A., you know. Got that whole Hollywood disdain thing going on."

"By which she means she doesn't like anything. Hollywood movies are too predictable and stupid, indie films are too pretentious." Rylie laughs a little as she puts the car out onto the highway, heading away from the city and out toward the desert. "You can just tell her to hush when she gets mean. And tell her she sounds too hipster, she loves that."

"I don't usually show off," Zan says, grinning. "Gets me into trouble." He chuckles, casting a glance to Rylie, then looking back at Shay. "But I guess, I'm a little into performing."

Shay shoots a short-lived look at the back of Rylie's head, but retorts in a way that shows she's already used to this sort of conversation with her friends. "That's not true either, you big liar. You better know what you're getting into here, Zan. Rylie's a tricksy one. Why do you think she works at a politician's office?" But then, aren't they all liars and actors? Shay leans back against the seat after, enjoying the desert breeze fresh in her face. "You should come see the show, Zan. Urban Guerrillaz - we don't have a formal schedule yet, but you could be our Peter Parker. Except, I get to be Spidey."

"What? Me? I'm not tricksy. I'm the one thread of honesty in there," Rylie protests, while she pushes the gas pedal a little harder. No cops out here, right? Right. She turns to glance at Zan, a crooked smile coming to her lips. "You get into trouble either way," she says with a laugh. "But I did promise to introduce you to others I know like us. So here's one, at least. I figure we can discuss it out here where no one's watching but conspiracy theorists."

"She work for a politician," Zan asks, feigning surprise. "You work for a politician?" The second time it's asked to Rylie, utterly shocked until a grin cracks. Yes, liars and actors. "I never knew that. Really. And I get into trouble because trouble has it in for me." He turns slightly in his seat, looking at Shay again. "So you moonlight as a conspiracy theorist like us, huh? What's your specialty?"

And in true tourist fashion, Shay goes on oblivious to the hints there of who she's really talking about. "That's right. The Big Cheese, the Head Honcho, the Mayor of Who-the-Fuck-Caresville. Mobtown's mobtown. And Rylie, you work for him." She'll figure it out eventually. Maybe. Maybe not. "Anyway, let's just say I deal in the secrets of the Force, Luke." She leaves it at that for now, winking at the film student.

"All my deep, dark secrets, revealed." Rylie reaches a hand over to put on Zan's leg, "It's all true. Please don't be disappointed in me." It's all mock seriousness, of course. She glances at Shay in the rearview mirror, barely holding in a laugh. "Tell us how you really feel." Her gaze back toward the road then, turning off into something that barely looks like a road. "She's a friction manipulator. Everything's a slip'n'slide."

"The mayor?" Now Zan looks utterly disbelieving, looking from Shay to Rylie. "Does my dad know you work for the mayor?" He holds his astonishment for a beat before that grin quirks again. "Maybe we should be nicer," he chuckles, settling back in his seat to consider friction manipulation. "That sounds like a neat trick. "

The conspiracy's on now, but Shay finally seems to catch on too. "I'm missing something here," she utters with gaze split between the front passengers. "And yes, if you don't want me to be slip'n'sliding your feet all over the sidewalk every time you walk by, you will be nicer." If it's actually possible. She's not letting on that it isn't. "But yes, that's what I do. It's a damn handy skill. Rylie's an amp, and you are?" She leans forward, as if already starting to be conspiratorial.

Rylie does laugh as Shay catches on, her head shaking a moment. "He doesn't need the sidewalk, but since I do, I'll be nice, I swear." However, not nice enough to explain what she's missing. So just a little nice. She glances at the others when Shay leans forward, her smile turning crooked. "And she's good for a secret, by the way. She's been keeping mine almost since she first got to Vegas."

"I am Alexander Caldecott," Zan replies, casting a glance over his shoulder as he sheds light on what's being implied and hinted upon. He's utterly serious this time, though the grin yet holds. "And I'm all too aware of who Rylie works for." He angles a glance toward Rylie when she allows trust for Shay, then returns to addressing the backseat passenger with a nod. "I can fly."

Shay brightens even as Zan turns serious, beaming and glad to not have to converse with the unknowing jailbirds in LVPD's holding cells. "Alexander Caldecott. Sounds like it could be a director's name, one day. Or maybe you want to be a producer, with a hit show on Broadway," she remarks, "And you know what's funny? Rylie works the mayor, and his name is Caldecott too." A pause breaks her train of thought. Maybe it'll come to her. Then she smiles unfalteringly. "So! You can fly!" Maybe not.

"Tourist," Rylie says to Zan, barking out a laugh at Shay's reaction. "Shay. The bleach is supposed to work on your hair, not your brain. He's the mayor's son." She chortles a bit as the car comes to a slow stop, out in the middle of nowhere. Just like she likes it. "He can fly. I think there may be some sort of… solar thing going on. I think. We'll have to poke at it a little more."

While nodding agreement, Zan laughs. "Definitely not a local," he chuckles. He doesn't bother trying to explain it further, deciding it might be a lost cause if Rylie's expounding doesn't get through. "Yeah, another overnight trip, it was a couple of days after the last before I tried anything again." Once the car has stopped, he jumps out. A couple of steps have him by the driver's door, which he opens and offers a hand out to Rylie.

Shay blinks and then it all dawns on her a second after Rylie reveals the whole kit and caboodle on Zan. "Oh. Oooohhh." She glances over at the guy, sitting back in her seat. "Listen man, don't get your Secret Service guys all on my ass alright?" She just sits there thinking about the possible black bag ops going on, up until Rylie's being helped out of the car. Then she snaps back to the present, recovering quickly and laughing off her little clueless faux pas by focusing on their abilities. "What makes you say it's a solar thing?" she asks as she hops out of the car as easily as she'd gotten in.

Rylie smiles when Zan opens her door, not having quite expected it, but she takes his hand as she gets out of the car. "Don't worry so much, Shay. No one follows us out here." She also brushes by the faux pas now, not seeming to actually think badly of her friend for it. "Well, I think so because… he can pretty much fly all day long. But at night, he blips out after a while. But like I said, might have to poke more. Could just be fatigue or something." She looks over at Zan, smirk on her lips, "Might watch your bags next time. Your dad might try to stuff it full of condoms or something."

"My dad's not going to send anyone following me out here," Zan begins. Though Rylie's warning gives him pause. "There's no good way to respond to that without sounding like a pervert," he declares in mock exasperation. He sighs, so put upon. "I'll just have to keep stuff at your place from now on," he decides, sounding resigned as he looks at Shay and shrugs as if to ask What can I do?

"Ah? Ahha! Ahhaaa," Shay notes with a finger twirling in Zan's and Rylie's paired direction. "Your dad could have you followed, but I'm sure he remembers what it was like to be your age, and all of that sort of thing," she chuckles aloud knowingly. "Please tell me you're at least being classy about the places picked. Lord knows you don't need some wannabe paparazzo snapping pics of you two coming out of the Motel 6. Or worse, your dorm." She also flicks a glance to Rylie to confirm, but not pryingly.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Shay," is Rylie's only answer to that, complete with a roll of her eyes. Come on. "Alright, you guys. We're out here to see what you do and for Zan to prod you with questions if he's got any. So get on with it." And off the subject of her sex life, maybe. But she hops up onto the hood of the car. Spectator.

Another sigh, defeated, and Zan's head bows as his palm covers his face. "I'm not telling you anything else," he states with some finality. It's still good natured, but it's time to move on. He moves to half sit against the front of the car beside Rylie, though his expression has gone from awkwardly amused to intently studious. "Show me what you can do."

Pff, spoil sports. Shay is ever the expert of moving forward though, and she slides back to show them both what she's capable of. That is to say, she literally slides backwards, as if the rough concrete was an ice rink and her soles had skates. "If you fizzle out at night, I suppose you could be solar powered. But you could be like, the moon, reflecting the sunlight. Or you could be a solar panel, absorbing sunlight and converting it into actual energy. I don't have that kind of power, but I like to think I can do this for pretty long. Maybe all day long. All night long." She grins, then laughs with her own joke.

Rylie reaches over to give Shay a little shove, to send her sliding a little faster. "You should see her moonwalk." She chuckles there, before settling back onto the car. "Yeah, whatever it is. We may never work it out exactly, but. Close enough for government work." Ha. Ha.

"So it just happens," Zan asks. His brow furrows as he watches Shay's demonstration. "How long have you been able to do that? How'd you… find out you could do it?"

Laughing with the shove from Rylie, Shay slides and pirouettes on a toe before coming to a stop on the asphalt. "Well, you see what ha- happened was," she starts to explain, but stops. "Well hang on! I showed you mine, now you show me yours." A grin, a wink, and a smile flits over her face. "I figure I got it when I was around sixteen or so? On the lam, as it were." Ironic. "Got stuck in a dead end after the mall cops chase me to dead man's alley - you know that spot behind the stores where everyone goes to smoke and shit - and I just kind of. Kind of climbed up three stories. Jackie Chan'd it all the way up, just without the wirework. Just with these." She holds up her bare hands.

"Does whatever a spider can," Rylie says in a sing-song voice. "Most people, it works like that. Something stressful kicks it into gear. Or you get some hints before things go nuts. Or the lucky ones, they puzzle it out, no one the wiser."

"Huh." Zan watches Shay's antics a beat longer. Then, "Fair's fair," is said as he stands. He shrugs, palms up in a helpless gesture, then shoots off skyward. It may not have been wholly intentional, launching upward with any amount of speed, his path isn't entirely straight and the glow that witnesses can see highlights the wandering path.

Blinking slightly with the dust kicked up and sunlight blazing as a result of looking skyward, Shay whistles lowly. "That's a neat trick alright," murmurs the girl as she slips over to Rylie's side and leans up against - but notably does not sit on - the convertible hood. While Zan is flying up and about, Shay keeps her eyes on the flier's technique, following his glow. "Boyfriend? And the mayor's son, no less?" she queries her friend quietly, girl shoptalk all the way.

Rylie watches Zan take off with a grin, pretty shamelessly ogling that bit. Shay gets her attention, though, and she looks back with a softer smile. "He asked me. I've been helping him get a handle on all this, and after the whole… kidnapping thing. I don't know, I guess we bonded." Her therapist disapproves. But she seems to not much care. "His dad sort of… reacted badly when he found out." Sort of badly.

Eventually Zan even's out, though he's a fair distance above the ground. A few miles up makes him a speck in the sky, until he arches over backward and begins gliding toward the ground again. Slowly at first then gradually picking up speed and appearing far more controlled. He even rolls a couple of times as he descends.

Still watching upwards, though with a hand to shade her eyes, Shay squints in both thought and in observation. "I think I agree with your therapist, Rylie," she utters as he starts to come down. "He's going to be a whole world of trouble."

Her eyes flick briefly over to her friend, and then she grins. "But hey, at least he's into you. What's life like without a little trouble now and then?" Pushing off the hood, she skates out to the center of the small road. "Hey Flyboy! Do you want to go catch a bite?" she calls up, perhaps fruitlessly depending on how high up he is.

"Yeah, I figured you might." Rylie smirks over at her friend, mind hardly changed on the subject of the guy lying around up there. "But. I like him. And he is into me. And just the right amount of trouble. Way more interesting than those frat boys I DJ for." She even makes a face. Not a fan, really. Not for dating. She slips off the car, waving to get Zan's attention from up there while Shay shouts.

He must have heard something. After a glance in the girls' direction, Zan swings a sharp turn to take himself more directly toward the car. He slows dramatically as he closes in, throwing his feet out in front to run a few steps once he's finally touched down. Firmly on the ground again, he walks toward the car, watching Rylie and Shay as he approaches.

"Uh. Yeah he is more interesting than those frat boys. Hell. He's a film student." Shay smirks as the flier makes a sharp turn, watching the sudden change of direction with a small nod. Impressive. "Alright show off. Since I know your dad's got his thumb on the pulse of the city, I 's'pect his son to know a good hot spot to grab something to eat on the cheap," she announces to the pair. Purposefully, she strides back towards the car, getting ready to get back in to the back. "It took me years to figure out how to do what I do, but this?" Her finger twirls in pointing towards them, then to herself. "This is going to the start of something real interesting."

"Uh oh. Now there's really going to be trouble," Rylie mutters playfully as she climbs back into the car. "Come on, you guys. We'll grab something cheap and terrible on the way back into the city." She and Zan come out this way enough to know the roadside eateries, after all.

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