Good Evening, Monsters! Good Evening, Abe! » Places

         Annabelle was oddly surprised to look at the poster in Ylaine's hands, meeting their escort, a pot. Yes, a pot of some sort wrapped around a cheap advertisement from some magazine. The elderly woman wasn't an expert in these sort of things but somehow she had a different mindset of when "escort" came to mind, someone who was an important figure in politics or witness to a large conspiracy, not a...pot. Perhaps she watched too many spy movies. Maybe there's something inside it she thought, before turning her attention elsewhere. It was the gentleman who'd lifted her bag of munitions from the trunk of her car, obviously struggling, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Oh dear, just drop it right here alright?" Anna said to her helper, who did so right at the end of her sentence, all tired and worn out. She went to the bag, grabbed the handle and with the push of a button, extended it upwards. "Thank you very much, dear." She said to Micah. The really large fellow, the one who feigned over woman so easily, suggested they walk, which she did while pulling the luggage with the help of two black rubber wheels on the bottom. Although when something dropped from his bag, the elderly woman motioned to pick it up, and just as quickly reversed that action as soon as she caught sight of the naked woman splayed across the page. She pretended that she couldn't hear a word of what Wolfgang said. Denial is a skill, a skill that only improved with age, especially with awkward situations like this one.

Having found the boat at the end of the docks; Annabelle was rather glad that the ship was inconspicuous enough. The thought of going on one of those large cruise ships just packed with old people going on vacation was something she abhorred. The only thing that can possibly be any worse were one of those dilapidated retirement homes that kids would drop their elderly parents in. The cargo ship even had a crew of it's own, filled with foreigners, mumbling something to each other. This was Mexico all over again; everyone talking but she couldn't understand a damn thing. It was the only reason she learned the language in the first place. Well, it wasn't, but it was one of the more important ones. Paranoia slowly crept on Anna, who turned back to stare into the faces of the ship-mates, in an attempt to assess the situation. They seemed confused to see them going on board.

"Does anyone happen to know what they're saying?" The elderly weapon called out to her fellow 'monsters', having her free hand close to the handgun under her trench-coat in case this was going to get out of control, the white purse hanging on the nook of her elbow in the same fashion that she approached Micah with.