Original article posted by Soft_Pen:

“Well, welcome to my body.” To say Rodney was feeling upended is like saying alcholoics find beer mildy pleasing.

But he was coping.

Or trying to.

“Been here a while, bub. Don’t need a welcome,” came the burly reply. It was a confident voice, one that Rodney knew, but had never let sit in the captain’s chair of his mind for long. Yes, he knew Vincent, but he also feared him, just a little bit. Rodney just decided to lay low and let Vincent do his thing, for now.

“Hey, Shu, you got people livin’ inside your head?” Vincent, ever the pragmatic one, wanted things up front, on the table.

“No. I find it interesting that Olivier hasn’t resumed control of Ravenpaine at this point. We are past the danger.”

Inside, Rodney began looking over his mental shoulder, waiting for Olivier to make his entrance.

“His busy, right at the moment. Look, we need someplace to lie low. How well do you know Las Vegas?” Vincent sneered. If anyone knew Las Vegas, it was Vincent. Rodney had never been there before.

“I have a room rented at the Bellagio. We will be met by one of my assistants. I’m sure you know the way.” With that, Shu reclined his seat, settled in to sleep.

Inside of Vincent, Rodney was mentally pacing. We felt Vincent was someone not to be crossed. Vincent was dangerous. If Rodney found hiimself in a tight squeeze, he didn’t think that he could rely on Vincent to do what was best in the interests of not destroyig Rodney’s body. But for the moment, it seemed Vincent knew what he was doing, so Rodney let himself slip back into sleep.

He had vey unpleasant dreams.


Vegas is a strange town. In movies starring Las Vegas a common motif is one of ubiquitous corruption: mob bosses, hitmen, and shadowy side-dealers who have a hand in everything that goes down in Sin City. The truth is, Las Vegas has absolutely no need of these colorful characters – the casinos take the money of their patron’s legally. That’s not to say there isn’t a viable criminal element present in Las Vegas, but the tourists do a fine job of ripping themselves off without the aid of crooks.

When Rodney awoke, he was relieved to find himself in control of his body again. Leaving the car with a valet, he and Shu entered the casino and went to the registration desk. A smiling young man with a short hair cut gave them their room key and directions to get them there. The room was nice, but not plush. Rodney stretched himself out on one of the twin beds while Shu made a telephone call. It was in a dialect of Chinese Rodney didn’t understand, but at the moment he was too whipped to pay much attention.

“I’ve contacted Zhe Lao, he’ll be here in moments.” Shu moved to the modest wet-bar, poured himself a drink. “You thirsty?”

“No, thanks. Just a little punked out from everything. Who is Zhe Lao?”

“Our Space Master for the North American Continent. He has been waiting for us.”

“Okay. Well, I’m going to go wash up.” Rodney got up, walked into the bathroom. He turned on some cold water, splashed his face, wiped himself off with those unforgiveably inadequate towels that hotels keep for their guests. Don’t they think anyone taller than two feet my need to get all the way dry? he thought to himself.

He re-entered the room, feeling a little more alert.

And there on the bed sat a slender man in an expensive suit. He had shock-white hair, and dark brown eyes. He stood up.

“Greetings. I’m Zhe Lao. We need to hurry, you must be trained up to the third level before we leave this room.”

Orginal comments:

Nickname: ravenpaine
Re: What Really Happened 5: Meet the Press
I only have the one other personality – Vincent. The Olivier thing is entertaining though. And Vincent would break yourarm for the ‘bub’ line if it all weren’t so much fun.