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The Ace of Spades Joined: 7 May 2006 Posts: 398 | Posted: Sun Jul 09, 2006 10:01 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By The Ace of Spades: This theme, Any theme The little town was, at first glance, dead.
This was mostly due to the lateness of the hour; the night was only lit by a full moon and a scattering of stars. The houses were dark and silent, showing no evidence of the women and children that lay sleeping within them. Outside, the town's single, dry road lay empty. The men were currently occupied in the only building still lit-- the Red River Saloon, where whiskey was plentiful and so were the less respectable women of the area. The saloon was a tall, rickety-looking building with a single long bar and several card tables scattered in no particular arrangement around the large room. It was a favorite spot for the gamblers and the drunks, and nobody was ever turned away... as long as they could pay. Violet Johnson made her way to the far end of the bar, where a few late arrivals had just shown up. These men were all regulars, and the town was small enough that everyone knew everyone else. "Whaddya want, Richie?" she asked the first man good-naturedly, ignoring the fact that his eyes were not on her face. "A little late tonight, huh?" This was her existence, and she found it to be a comfortable one. Things could be better, sure... but they could always be worse. |
| Odakira Joined: 9 Jul 2005 Posts: 412 | Posted: Sun Jul 09, 2006 11:02 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By Odakira: This theme, Any theme It had been a long and dismal walk. Nothing but the cool night breeze blew through the dry land. Alone walked a figure in the night. A Newcomer. Other than the shadowy form, the slight 'ching' of his spurs emitted with each step he took. That all ended soon when the man's steps reached the wooden deck of the Red River Saloon; broadening to thuds.
It indeed had been a long and dismal walk that night, for when the man entered, all of his black attire (vest, gloves, boots, and pants), as well as his crimson shirt, was dusted with the sand and dirt of the land. The rickety tavern doors squealed when they both swung open by the man's hands. At this time, all could take note of his scarred eye and the three revolvers strapped around his waist. The man was breathing slowly, and looked as if he had walked quite a great distance. If it wasn't bad enough, he had to take a few more steps only to slump into one of the barstools. Removing his dusty set of gloves, he tucked them in-between his gunbelt and waist. Bringing his hands up, he rubbed his forehead slightly, then gestured to the bartender. When the attention of the barkeep was caught, he walked over to the man to see his dried lips part, and speak dazedly, "One shot of bourbon... And give me a room for the night." 'I really need a horse...' Turning around in his barstool while the bartender set off to get his drink, the one-eyed gunman took a glance around. It was quite packed full of what seemed to be the citizens of the small town. His dark eye passed over them all at a steady rate, including Violet, but the place didn't seem to have an ounce of something 'attention-worthy'. Nor did it seem anyone would be able to tell him what he wanted. With a shrug, he turned about again to rest his elbows upon the bartop as he awaited his drink. |
| The Ace of Spades Joined: 7 May 2006 Posts: 398 | Posted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 5:57 am | Characters: All for this theme; By The Ace of Spades: This theme, Any theme "The man over there wants a shot of bourbon. Go get it for him while I check to see how many roooms we've got left."
"Which man?" "The one in black." Violet looked in the direction that the barkeep was pointing. Ah, that one. She knew the type; she'd seen them often enough. The dusty clothes, the bored expression, the guns strapped to his waist-- Typical tortured, egotistical, gunslinging male. Nothing worth much attention, then. Violet left Richie, who'd been given his drink, and quickly poured a shot of the amber-colored liquid into a glass. She strode easily toward the man at the other end of the bar, ignoring the way everyone else seemed to be staring at him. It's not like these guys are rare, she thought, exasperated. "Here you go," she said, setting the glass down in front of him. "Anything else you need?" |
| Odakira Joined: 9 Jul 2005 Posts: 412 | Posted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 10:04 am | Characters: All for this theme; By Odakira: This theme, Any theme "That'll do..." The man said, then brought his head back as he took down the shot in one go. When all of the liquid had gone down, he placed the shot glass down and cleared his throat. "Much obliged, lady." He almost whispered, bringing up a hand to stroke the grey streak of hair upon his head as well as glancing up at the woman with his good eye.
"...Not a big town, is it?" He then asked out of sheer curiousity, starting to dust his pantlegs off as well, for all he saw was local housing upon his arrival. If there was more to this place than he thought, he would definitely have to take a look around. He noticed that after his arrival the townspeople got quiet. Still talking and chatting amongst one another, but in a lowered volume. He could feel their eyes upon them and he knew that they were thinking he was trouble. It was beginning to wear on his nerves, and by now the man would probably be shooting someone, but he was extremely worn out, and rather rest first, then kill. |
Melia Stahlflugel Joined: 4 Aug 2005 Posts: 613 | Posted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 11:22 am | Characters: All for this theme; By Melia Stahlflugel: This theme, Any theme OOC:Martin--noone used those kind of jingly, star-shaped, pointy spurs... they used nubby ones like this:
[img:33996e43bf]http://i12.ebayimg.com/01/i/06/c0/5c/ef_2.JPG[/img:33996e43bf] with only wee dinky pointies. And there was no jingling. Sorry to be a wet blanket. ...You can keep the movie-style spurs if you want. 'Cause while innacurate, they're hella cool :D West's sensitive eyes adjusted to the dark night, and he could see from his vantage point on the back of his "borrowed" donkey that there was a light on in the town below. Sure hope it's that Red River place Hermes told me to meet Dionysus at, he thought, But I'm probably not that lucky. He put his nubby, army-style spurs to the donkey, which only went at two speeds: slow and slower. George tied the donkey to the hitching-post in front of the establishment. Peeking inside and seeing the revelry--especially the type of revelry--he sighed. "Guess we won't be sleepin' tonight, eh, Jesus?" Jesus brayed in agreement, then walked over to the trough and began to drink. West knew that bars spawned trouble, and so he got a revolver and put it in the inside coat of his jacket. Not that he'd use it- it was just a good... persuader in times of trouble. People tended to listened to you when you were pointing a fire stick at them and they thought they might die. George pushed open the doors, ducking to avoid a low chandelier that threatened to scalp him. He sat down at the bar next to a man dressed all in black, thinking that he reminded him of someone... "Mythic? Naw, wait, sorry, you're not him." He blushed a little with embarrassment. He looked at the man next to him a second time to be sure. Yup, definately not him. But he does sorta remind me of Mythic... better watch out. West called Violet over. "'Scuse me, miss, may I have a glass of water, please? I don' want no alcohol in it, neither." He looked around for maybe five seconds when he spotted Dionysus. He could see how he got his nickname, the man was overly drunk, spilling wine down his front and onto the panelled wood floor. West sighed and rolled his eyes. Apparently he'd have to wait a day or more to talk to him... but West didn't worry. There was no rush on this mission, because he hadn't met the target yet. OOC:So many unanswered questions...
Like... how's his wife and kid? What's the mission? Who's the Target? Why was he partnered with a constantly drunk dude? xD |
Digithe Joined: 24 Aug 2003 Posts: 884 | Posted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 11:43 am | Characters: All for this theme; By Digithe: This theme, Any theme OOC: Don't even think about trying to take my horse! D:
For the young man, it was just about the best way to travel at night. For the horse, it was irritating and boring. As she ambled along the dusty path, the young man lay upon her back, his feet propped up on her neck and his hat over his face, keeping out the moonlight and the bugs. He knew that his Ashe could be extremely mean and break out into a sprint at any time, throwing him unceremoniously into the dirt. He also knew, however, that he could trust her not to do any such thing. They were friends, and he'd helped her out of as many troubles as she helped him out of. Besides, it had been a long day for the young man, so Ashe was fine letting him rest for a little while she kept moving along. After all, they would have been on the road a lot longer if they stopped altogether when night fell. And, the authorities from the town they just left might have caught up to them. At last, the next town was in sight. Neither of the two had ever been there before, and the young man's map -- for he had only one; he felt it more exciting to not know exactly where you're going -- was useless. As they got nearer, Ashe snorted and shook his head, dislodging the young man's feet and waking him up. "We there already?" he asked, scrambling to get his balance back and sit up. He straightened his hat and rubbed his eyes, peering out into the darkness. Sure enough, there, not half a mile away, was the unmistakable silhouette of a town. He smiled, patting Ashe's neck and holding on to her mane. He leaned down closer to her ear and said, almost whispering, "Well then, up for a gallop?" Ashe whinnied happily in response, and erupted with a sudden burst of speed. She loved to gallop and could do so for quite a long time without a break, if properly rested. It wasn't long until they were at the edge of town and she slowed back to a gentle trot. "Red River Valley, huh?" the young man asked nobody in particular, a smile creeping onto his face. "Sounds obscure! Perhaps I can stay here for a while." |
| Odakira Joined: 9 Jul 2005 Posts: 412 | Posted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 11:57 am | Characters: All for this theme; By Odakira: This theme, Any theme OOC:No worries, because they actually did have spurs like that during these times.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spur At the side which the newcomer sat, the man could only give him a stern stare with his dead-eye. He knew he couldn't see out of it, but it usually struck a little awkwardness to those he looked at with it. Shaking his head to himself, the man then turned to see if that bartender returned with the information about his room, but he was nowhere in sight yet. After the newcomer gave his order to the barmaid, Wes rose his arm as well, "'Nother shot of bourbon." That's when the sound of a horse trotting outside caught Wes' attention. It would seem either this place was quite popular for newcomers, or the town was bigger than he had expected. After all, the man sitting next to him that had mistaken him for 'Mythic', as he called him, could be one of the townfolk as well. Not minding it, he was tired and was more focused on how much sleep he'll get tonight. |
| The Ace of Spades Joined: 7 May 2006 Posts: 398 | Posted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 12:21 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By The Ace of Spades: This theme, Any theme Violet stepped out from behind the bar with a glass in one hand. She glanced at George West as she passed, raising one eyebrow. "Water? This is a bar. If you want water, you can drink out of the trough with the horses."
She stepped past him and handed the glass to the other man, who was sitting only a few feet away. "Your drink," she said politely, setting it down on the table in front of him. She glanced back at West with an amused smirk. |
| Melia Stahlflugel Joined: 4 Aug 2005 Posts: 613 | Posted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 1:45 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By Melia Stahlflugel: This theme, Any theme OOC:Well, oops, sorry~ ;D;
West narrowed his eyes at Violet, but he smiled gently, wrinkles forming around his eyes and mouth. He was far too tired and thirsty for games, so he figured he'd just go with the flow. "Fine. In that case, get me a bottle of beer, please." He looked over at Dionysus, and fought to suppress a laugh--Dionysus had fallen off his chair in a drunken stupor. George's ears perked up at the sound of hoofbeats outside, but he sensed that the newcomer meant him no harm, and so he relaxed again. OOC:Sorry so short I have to go be back later sorry |
| The Ace of Spades Joined: 7 May 2006 Posts: 398 | Posted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 2:50 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By The Ace of Spades: This theme, Any theme Violet shrugged, and was back a minute later with a bottle in hand. "Here ya go," she said, setting it in front of West. "Anything else?"
Before he could answer, though, she'd turned away to look at the man who'd tumbled to the floor. She sighed and wove her way through the other drunken idiots to get to the man, who was lying unconscious at the feet of a rather large man who looked as though he were built of concrete. "Do me a favor?" she asked, and he raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Get this guy outta here. I'll give you a free beer." "Sure thing, lady." The man bent down to grab the mess on the floor by the arms, and dragged him to the door. He then threw him-- not threw, exactly, but it wasn't a nice, gentle toss either-- into the dirt outside the saloon. Violet was waiting for him with another bottle of beer, which she set down in front of him without a word of thanks. She turned back to West. "Anyway," she said, entirely oblivious to the fact that she'd just had his partner thrown out of the building, "is there anything else I can get you?" |
spy_4_hire Joined: 14 Feb 2004 Posts: 568 | Posted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 5:42 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By spy_4_hire: This theme, Any theme Jean Louise Finch snuck in through the back door, and beat some of the desert dust off her cloak before slinking into the dark hallway and slipping into her private dressing room. She threw off the cloak and let it land on the floor, ignoring the cloud of fine sand that arose from the cloth when it landed on the floor unceremoniously. Her fiery red hair was disheveled and her lipstick was smeared. She dropped a small bag on the floor and kicked it under the vanity where it hit the wall and jingled. Then she quickly brushed her hair and put it in a lazy bun and she began to scrub her face clean. Jean Louise hoped she had enough time to change as she tore off her old, dirty black bodice, off white shirt, and worn, charcoal skirt.
Suddenly the door burst open, and the singer squealed in surprise and turned around to see- “Atticus!” she said, blinking in shock holding her long skirt to her chest to cover her bare body. “You fright-“ “You’re not even dressed yet?!” the manager asked his eyes popping out of his head. It was not the lack of clothing that appalled him but the fact she wasn’t in costume. He couldn’t have cared less what she was, or was not wearing when he walked in, as long as she was ready for the show on time. Jean Louise was not ready. He grabbed the costume from where it hung and tossed it to her. She dropped the skirt, so that she could catch the sparkly, airborne costume. “Do you realize you have FIVE MINUTES to get onstage? I was about to tell Ginifred to get ready.” Jean Louise snorted, and quickly stepped into the costume and pulled it on. “You wouldn’t have,” she said confidently. He spun her around and started lacing up the back for her so that Finch could do her make-up. Atticus “Don’t sound so sure,” he said, his hands working deftly. He put his knee on the small of her back and yanked hard and making hr gasp before continuing to lace up the costume again. “You’re good, child, a jewel, but you have to be on time… Where were you anyway?” “Just taking a walk,” she said as she did her make-up. When Atticus tightened it again she cried out a little as the boning of the costume dug into her body. “A girl has to breathe to sing you know,” she gasped. “Stars breathe when the show is over,” Atticus said finishing up with the costume. “HAIR!” he shouted over his shoulder. Lissa, a plump little old lady, dashed into the room armed with a brush and a lot of pins. Atticus stood back and his dark eyes watched the process carefully. He was old, the grey streaks in his hair were increasing at a rate that it was impossible to hide them all. Jean Louise assured him they only made him more handsome. His face was chiseled and clean shaven, and his suit was neatly pressed. Jean Louse smiled at him in the mirror. “Done,” she said setting down the blush. She turned around and Ms. Lissa had disappeared out the door. “Shoes,” Atticus said, pushing her into a chair and strapping on the dainty heels. “Now,” he looked up at her and smiled and pulled her to her feet. “You’re done.” He pulled her out the door, and ushered her back stage. “Well, well, well,” said a snobby voice once Jean Louise reached the back stage area with the other girls. “Look who decided to grace us with ”˜er presence.” “You sound a bit disappointed, Fred,” Finch said pleasantly turning around to see an angry blonde with sharp green eyes that stood out fantastically thanks to her evilly green costume. “Didn’t you miss me?” “That’s Gina to you, you little-“ “Temper, temper, Ginifred,” Jean Louise cooed, and wagged her finger. “You need to be careful. If you get any more jealous, you might turn green, and then your skin would clash terribly with your costume. Wouldn’t that be a shame?” The angry show girl never got the chance to retaliate because Atticus ushered Jean Louise out onto the stage and the curtain rose with a somber Jean Louise Finch standing in the spotlight dressed in an ankle-long, deep blue skirt, and a royal purple shawl that cover her arms and torso. A piano played a soft, slow in the background, and the rowdy bar fell quiet. “The French,” she began seriously walking down stage left, and a quiet chuckle rippled through the saloon. “Are glad to die for love.” She slipped onto the piano, and sat primly on top of it. Her deep blue eyes drifted over the dark, smoky room. Her words were slow and clear and the rest of the bar ha fallen silent once more. “They delight in fighting duels…But I prefer a man who lives and gives expensive… jewels.” The piano music picked up instantly and the rest of the band jumped into the song as Jean Louise leapt to her feet, and stood boldly on the piano. “A kiss on the hand may be quite continental/ But diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” she belted and with a wink to the audience she took off the shawl and tossed it into the audience who cheered and hooted. Her white corset shimmered and glittered in the light as she left the piano and crossed to stage right. “A kiss may be grand but it won’t pay the rental/ On your humble flat/ Or help you at the racin’ track.” Her skirt came off and flew over the audience as well leaving her slender, shapely legs exposed. “Men grow cold as girls grow old,” she had to push an audience member away with her heel against his forehead. “And we all lose our charms in the end./ But square-cut or pear-shaped Those rocks don’t lose their shape.” She stood center stage, and beamed slyly at the audience. “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend.” She glanced at each side of the stage. “Girls…” A line of dancers entered the stage from each side, and they proceeded to do a complex dance routine with kicks and turns, Jean Louise even did a few flips. Each dancing girl had a happy smile pasted on the faces as they concentrated on their dance steps. The scandalous costumes were every color of the rainbow with Jean Louise, dressed in white, dancing in the middle of it all. OOC:That’s all I feel like writing right now. The song’s only half over. I’ve never done a song before… sorry if it sucks. >.<; |
| Digithe Joined: 24 Aug 2003 Posts: 884 | Posted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 9:51 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By Digithe: This theme, Any theme OOC: O_O; nice long post
The young man ambled through the town on his horse, taking in the sights and figuring out where everything was, scouting out vantage points and possible hidings spots. It didn't appear to have much in the way of a separate inn -- it was a fairly small town, after all; He preferred smaller towns anyway -- and so at last he made his way to the saloon. He was quite familiar with saloons, and knew how rowdy they could get, even at night, but was surprised to see this one as active as it was. As he neared it, he began to wonder how people in this town could sleep with such a noisy neighbor right near the center of everything. Though he was tempted to sleep out in the desert, the young man decided that it could be more interesting here. Besides, he'd done that for about half a week straight, and had pleasant dreams of a semi-comfortable, if sleezy, bed. He hopped off his horse with a soft thud, patting her on the back and promising to be back shortly and find a stable for her. She whinnied worriedly, nudging her gently with her nose as he passed. "Oh, don't worry! I'm not going to be picking any fights, and I'm sure the ruckous is just from some risque show, like always." Ashe snorted. "Hey, now don't bring that up! That fight was going to break out even if I hadn't shown up, and you know it! I stopped it early!" Ashe snorted again, shaking its head then nudging him forward. The young man briefly considered rebuking her for rolling her eyes, but he didn't feel like arguing any more that night. After making his way through the doors and around the back wall towards where the bartender was standing -- at least he looked like the bartender; he was the only one glancing around at the other customers and was wearing an apron -- he could tell for sure that he was right about the show. These jokers are just shameful, the young man thought to himself, eyeing the saloon's patrons with a particular disgust. He shook his head, ignoring it for now. He'd let them live for a while longer; they weren't doing any real harm yet anyway. "My good friend!" said the young man jovially, addressing the bartender. "My name is Vincent, but I'm sure you remember that! Haha, we had such good times, didn't we?" Atticus opened his mouth to responded, but in his confusion at the person's familiarity with him he could say nothing. "Of course! Now, I hate to impose, but I'll be stopping here for a little while, and I was hoping you had a free room?" "I -- err -- yes," the bartender stammered. He could not for the life of him remember this "Vincent," but the young man seemed so happy to see him that he couldn't just crush him by denying him. "Good times, yes yes, truely! I actually just checked the rooms for that gentleman at the bar, dressed in black. I have one room left after his, but it's quite tiny. You could almost call it a closet!" Here, the bartender chuckled. "B-but don't get me wrong, I would of course have given you the other room, but, you know how it is. First come, first served, after all. Can't play favorites all the time. But I tell ya what -- have a beer, on me. Violet!" "Oh that's quite alright," interrupted Vincent, raising his hand to turn down the offer. "I don't drink much, and a small room suits me just fine. I don't expect any company, and I haven't much, save my trusty violin! Tea or coffee would be more than fine, if you happen to have any!" The bartender was now quite confused; he didn't know many people who didn't drink. He shrugged it off, however, and fished through his pocket for the key, handing it to Vincent. "Well, here you go!" responded the bartender with a somewhat forced smile. "Violet! A coffee for... Vincent, if you would!" he shouted, before turning back to Vincent. "There, now sit down and enjoy the show!" "But you are too kind! Thank you!" Vincent said happily. "I think I shall just stand, perhaps watch your pianist." He doesn't do justice to those girls, he added mentally. I suppose he's probably just as distracted as the rest of these slobs! OOC: hope nobody minded my use of the bartender; it sped things up for me |
| spy_4_hire Joined: 14 Feb 2004 Posts: 568 | Posted: Mon Jul 10, 2006 11:25 pm | Characters: All for this theme; By spy_4_hire: This theme, Any theme OOC:sorry… this one’s shorter though.
The music suddenly stopped, and the dancers froze for a moment. Suddenly, Jean Louise leapt forward and danced down a small flight of steps and strutted out into the audience. A spotlight followed her closely. “There may come a time when a lass needs a lawyer,” she sang as she sat in the lap of a man playing dice with a few of his buddies. “But diamonds are a girl’s best friend.” She winked and kissed the dice, and quickly left the table before the man came back to his senses. “There may come a time when a hard-boiled employer,” continued Finch, walking past Atticus and glancing at him slyly. He grabbed her hand and spun her into him. “Thinks you’re awful nice,” her eyes widened in mock surprise, and then she smirked and playfully pushed him away. “But ”˜get that ice’ or else ”˜no dice’.” She wagged her finger at him and walked a way with a cute little bounce in her step. She sat on the bar next to a dusty stranger dressed in black. “He’s your guy when stocks are high,” she sang to him with a slight pout on her lips. “But beware when they start to descend.” She sighed and slipped off the bar, and nearly tripped when she saw who was sitting next to him. Luckily, she was able to keep her balance by grabbing George West’s shoulders, dipping herself, and sitting in his lap. “It’s then that those louses/ Go back to their spouses.” She slipped out of his lap quickly as though she had been sitting on a hot griddle. Jean Louise bent over and tweaked Dionysius’ nose. “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” she sang with a wink and then she was gone. The music swelled and the singer boldly walked down the middle of the saloon as if she owned it, and in a way, she did. “Men grow cold… Girls grow old…” she sang as she strutted. “But Diamonds…” she reached the bottom stair and she turned around to face the audience. “Diamonds….. Diamonds…” she slowly went up the stairs and joined the line of dancers doing high kicks. “Diamonds are a girl’s…. best…. Friend!!!!!!” She belted the last note as loud as she could. Then she blew a kiss to her audience and the curtains closed as the audience cheered, hooted, clapped, howled, and laughed. Backstage, Jean Louise sighed, and smiled as the other dancers got ready for the next number. It was just the other girls for a while. Jean Louise had plenty of time for a quick drink. She slipped out of a door that led directly behind the bar and poured herself some wine, watered it down a bit and squeezed some lemon into it. |
| Odakira Joined: 9 Jul 2005 Posts: 412 | Posted: Tue Jul 11, 2006 12:47 am | Characters: All for this theme; By Odakira: This theme, Any theme Wes gave a nod of his head, showing gratitude to the barmaid for the next drink. Before his still-parched lips could touch the rim of the shotglass, his attention was turned to the stage. His good eye studied the dancer as she sang and pranced, but it wasn't too long before he tried to drink again... Then he was interrupted again by (what he felt to be) the obnoxious yelling of someone. Setting his glass down on the bartop, his trigger finger twitched inward at the glass, causing a small crack to form on it's smooth surface. Gritting his teeth, Wes' temper began to rise. When the bartender and man brought up the topic of rooms, Wes muttered to himself, "Err, If he even thinks about taking my room, I'll blow his ears off..."
Luck be with him that he didn't persuade the bartender any further, for there would be hell to pay indeed. Once again, Wes brought his drink to his lips again, then that's when he noticed that the singer's voice was closer, and that the spotlight was travelling across the bartop's surface towards him. 'Oh great... Now what?' He thought sarcastically in his mind. When the singer sang, and gave off the lyrics she directed at him, Wes simply shrugged, and drank down his shot. When he set down the glass, his head followed only to see the bartender in his sight. The man set a key down in front of Wes, and Wes took it and slipped it into his vest pocket. "Thanks much." Wes replied, then turned in his stool to keep both the stage and loud newcomer in his sight. After all, Wes wouldn't appreciate him trying to pickpocket him and get his key. Till then, he rather wait till the show ended or the man went to his room. |
| The Ace of Spades Joined: 7 May 2006 Posts: 398 | Posted: Tue Jul 11, 2006 8:43 am | Characters: All for this theme; By The Ace of Spades: This theme, Any theme Coffee? Who does Atticus know who drinks coffee? But that, Violet supposed, was none of her business. She brought the newest gentleman a cup of the steaming liquid and set it in front of him.
She stopped for a minute, watching Jean Louise as she draped herself over the lap of the man who'd ordered water. There she goes again, she thought, not unkindly. She had a soft spot for the girl. She glanced back at the man in front of her-- Vincent, Atticus had said his name was-- and noticed that he wasn't drooling like most of the other men in the saloon. In fact, he wasn't even watching Jean Louise. Or the other dancers. She followed his eyes and realized who he was looking at-- The pianist? Violet raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong? Don't you like the show?" she asked casually, just loud enough to be heard over the music coming from the stage. She regretted the words as soon as they'd left her mouth. Perhaps he was-- she'd never met one, but she'd heard of them-- one of those guys who didn't like girls. She bit her lip, hoping he maybe hadn't heard her. OOC:She thinks he gay XD |
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