Blood & Bullets

This is an open thread to all BUT you will first need to post your character at the OOC link found when you click on this, thank you

Dead Creek Falls.

A Boom Town nestled far back in the Black Hills.

The year is 1879 and like nearly all of the gold rush communities (and most of its occupants) the life span is brilliant, wild and painfully short.

This is the tale of that town and it's people, where the whiskey and blood flow freely each night, and large sacks of gold were as common as death.

Business was booming at the Last Chance Saloon, the large main floor packed with bodies, the air filled with smoke creating a haze that hung over the many oil filled lanterns that hung above their heads.

Below the brightly burning lamps the tables were filled with drinkers and gamblers, the whiskey being consumed by the gallon and brought to the tables by the throng of scantily dressed and ever available whores who would take you to their second floor rooms above for an hour or an evening depending on how little you had lost at the tables.

It was like that in each and every saloon and gambling emporium that stood shoulder to shoulder on the far end of Main Street. The party began each evening as the crews of hungry and horny miners flocked into them and ended each morning as the last straggler was either rolled from the saloon or crawled out on his own power.

And as the first rays of the sun hit the boardwalks the town would change, the townsfolk taking over as they made their way to the multitude of stores on the opposite end of the street, the "good" women shooing young, innocent children along the wooden walk ways and towards the freshly built school that perched on the hillside, the doors swinging open as the shops owners made ready for another days business.

All appeared ordinary in the crisp, clean morning sunshine. The average bustling boomtown, the streets filled with dust as the wagons hauled out the previous days tailings, the miners heading in the opposite direction for another long, hard days work.

But if you looked closer? If you waited until the sun went behind the hills and didn't fill your belly with whiskey? With a keen eye and mind you'd see that each and every evening there was indeed something quite unique about Dead Creek Falls.

"Be careful stranger. Questions like that AREN'T asked in the west and it's NOT an insult if you don't get an answer."

Chance Devon pushed back from his table, THE table he took every evening and made his nights wages, but not because he was through for the day.

But because the bleary eyed drunk who sat across from his was starting to feel like he would live forever and nothing could hurt him. The "drunk" was a young miner who had come to the "Hills o' Gold" to find his riches and instead found himself locked hundreds of feet underground working for another man.

The "drunk" was also demanding answers to the one question you NEVER asked of any man or woman in the west. And yet despite the quiet warnings he persisted and rubbed the splintered butt of an ill-used Colt .45 stuck in his canvas pants.

I'essss donCARE ya god damned GAMBLER, I'essss wants ta know where da hell you learned HOW to deal cards like THAT!

Chance smiled and sighed. The crowd going suddenly still and leaving a wide, empty space of room as they sensed a gunfight coming to the room as the drunk staggered to his feet and swelled his chest for another round of insults.

And at that point the drunk made a near fatal mistake. For as he rose the sight of the rusty Colt scraped his testicles and he grabbed wildly at it to stop the searing pain.

It was the moment the majority of the Last Chance Saloons crowd waited for, holding their own breath and waiting to see if Chance would add the number 13 to his list of kills.

Each man in the saloon knew with the exception of the drunk the reputation of the man he cursed. That Chance never drew first and always killed his man if he was forced to draw.

The miners gun cleared his dirty waistline and as it did the eyes of the young man suddenly grew wide as a tiny bit of soberness screamed the warning at him.

That he was about to die!

Faster than the human eye could follow Chances own well oiled Colt slid from his holster. And before anyone could realize it was drawn he reversed his grip, holding the barrel and bringing it down to tap it behind the young miners ear.

"Give the barkeep his Colt, the fool never loaded it before he went drinking."

Chance instructed no one and smiled as a half dozen moved to obey.

"And drag him to a corner in the storeroom for the night, I'll buy the room a round once I can deal my cards again."

It was all the room needed. The noise quickly returning to the room as the tables refilled, the ladies of ill repute quickly bringing large trays filled to capacity with rye whiskey and beer as the moment passed.

Just another ordinary in Dead Falls Creek it seemed.

Or was it?

The moon was already high and beaming brightly within the starry sky by the time that Temperance had gotten to work, her shift being one of the busiest. She didn’t mind, all accept for the short skirt that she wore- Making it that much easier for drunken miner’s to get at her wonderfully curved bottom; hell, she’d already playfully slapped someone tonight, she was just waiting for when she actually had to put force into it.

Temperance was a bar waitress at the Last Chance Saloon, and that was all; her services did not include laying on her back and allowing others to slake their lust on or inside of her. Of course, when one was wearing a sinfully red little number that screamed ‘whore’, it didn’t tend to help – Although, the tips she received was well worth the problems it caused.

They were allowing her to pay her rent at least.

A night dweller at the place she called her ‘second home’, Temperance was use to the regulars that rolled in, flirting and paying her compliments, making her blush and laugh. It wasn’t as though she had a tough time waiting the tables, the occasional John giving her problems; fortunately, she was well able to stand up for herself.

No one wanted a pair of claw marks in their cheek from the feisty little minx, let alone to stand and bask in her disfavor; it was like being glared down by a train.

Taking her tray from the bar, Temperance sashayed around the bar with ease, meandering throughout the drunken throng in order to serve the drinks that had been ordered. She offered a wink here and a kiss there, winding her way around, never staying in one spot long – Staying for over thirty seconds tended to end in disaster, most drunken males thinking that she was ‘sporting/advertising’ her wares.

It was the raised voice that caught her attention, the waitress going silent with the rest of the crowd, turning to watch the show as it progressed. Any smart gambler would know to keep his tongue – Unfortunately, it didn’t seem the one across from Chance was smart by any means.

The tension rode hard on the air for that moment, Temperance glancing around, brows furrowed – One of these always resulted in there being a round bought for everyone, she would bet her nights pay on it.

It didn’t take long before her thought was proven right, bringing a smile to her painted lips as she made her way over to the bar owner, her tray held up so that it and the empty glasses wouldn’t be knocked from her grip.

“Anything I could get you, Honey?” She asked Chance with a purr to her voice, her free hand balanced on a finely curved hip. She figured she’d serve the ‘winner’ whatever he wanted – Chancing the fact that he wanted something other than his ‘fine booze’ – before she got to everyone else.

Veronica shivered very slightly, from more than just the chilly air.

Night had fallen, once more sneaking up on her as she finished up her work in the littel one-room school on the fringes of Dead Creek Falls. The "school board" such as it was was based in town, though most of her students hadn't ever gone far into town. They were mostly the sons and daughters of farmers and ranchers. The town itself mostly had miners, gamblers, and women of ill repute. And such people didn't have children (that they acknowledged, that is).

So again, Veronica shivered as she locked the school building's doors, and glanced up at the full, white moon. At least she'd have some light to walk home with, she thought.

Clutching a satchel containing various papers to her chest, she scurried through the ill-lit main street toward the Last Chance Saloon. As distasteful as the place was to her, she had little choice but go there each night, as the "school board" provided her with a room in the second floor of the saloon. She had the room to herself, though her neighbors were whores, and many of them not very friendly with the back-east school marm.

She took a deep breath, in part to get in air without the cloying stench of cigar and whisky and beer, and in part to will herself to be strong enough to go through the saloon quickly without attracting notice, and retire to safety to her room.

She pushed through the saloon doors, and made straight for the stairs .. nodding at Temperence as she passed her, but showing no one else any sign of notice. Temeperence, Veronica had already learned after only a few days here, was a strong-willed young woman who hadn't fallen into the trap that her whore neighbors had.

Chance smiled at the interuption in his game and turned to take in the feisty vision before him.

"How are you this evening Temperance? I trust all our guests are behaving as well as can be expected. Is there anyone I should talk to next?"

Again he smiled as the spunky waitress grinned back and rolled her eyes, assuring him ALL men were pussycats.

"I thought I heard you make one "meow" a short while ago, did he get the message?"

Chance had more than "heard" the man, he had watched the hand try to slide up the short skirt he insisted ALL the help wear and when her own hand had slapped his away?

She was more than capable of taking care of herself when it was the usual male hormones involved, but they both knew in Dead Creek there was much more than the usual.

"Good Evening, Miss Lake"

The school marm passed him without deeming him a glance and yet Chance felt no insult. He was after all in her eyes a gambler and gunfighter, the lowest forms of life in any "decent" womans pecking order. Perhaps in his mind as well as hers, for othwerwise why did he choose to hide where the funds came from as he had in the past?

He turned back to Temperance as she tapped her foot and gave him a mock pout and he chuckled.

"As to what I'd "like" my dear would you really serve it to me "if" I asked?"

Chance studied Temperance closely and heard her heartbeat increase even before she blushed.

"Do me a favor and check on our young miner friend on occasion will you please Temperance?"

He asked the favor and spared her of having to answer his earlier query.

"And watch out for the table by the faro game, the cowboy in the red shirt is carrying a knife under his shirt sleeve."

A knife was a normal enough weapon to carry. In a mans belt, out in the open. But a man that hid that kind of weapon wasn't a man to trust at all.

"Leave him alone Temperance, I'd hate to have to kill him, understand?"

She nodded and he smiled, an easy understanding in which both seemed to know where the boundries were. Despite his reputation Chance felt an affinity for the people around him and had no qualms in killing anyone that might harm "his" people.

"Come back later and I'll let you sit in a few hands if you'd like?"

They both laughed. An old joke among casual friends, He was always asking her to bet her outfit on a single hand of cards and she never quite turned him completely down.

(ooc// I do believe, earlier on, you were asking for tips about roleplaying? I’ve just thought of one. XD

When writing a post, post /only/ for your character – His thoughts, feelings, actions. Leave it to the players of other characters to respond to what your character does. Makes it easier usually.)

"How are you this evening Temperance? I trust all our guests are behaving as well as can be expected. Is there anyone I should talk to next?" His words made her smirk, the young waitress balancing one foot in front of her on the heel of her stiletto shoe -- One had to be good in such foot coverings, lest they care to ruin their outfit with clunky boots, or worse yet, proper-woman shoes. Rolling her eyes at Chance, she grinned in return, waving her free hand in dismissal of the comment. “The men are pussy-cats Chance, I can handle them.” She assured him, aiming a look over her shoulder at one in particular – An ice-queen look that proclaimed, ‘I just saved your sorry ass’. “Oh yes, he got the message.” Temperance purred, her gaze sliding back to Chance before being diverted elsewhere.

“Hi Veronica!” Temperance greeted enthusiastically, waving her hand. Beaming smile was angled the schoolteacher’s way as she scurried past. “I’ll come up to see you after my shift, okay?” Temperance called after her before turning her attentions back to Chance.

Waiting for Chance’s attentions to come back to her, she tapped her foot, painted lip curving into a mock pout. There was always money in flirting with one of the good looking men around the bar, other’s getting jealous and trying to win over her affection – or trying to get her into their beds – by leaving money. It was an appreciated gift, one that Temperance would take without offering any services in return.

Hearing Chance’s answer to her question, she blushed before arching a brow inquisitively at his next statement. “Oh, okay, will do.” She winked, turning to head off in the direction of the fallen miner. It was more than likely that he’d need an ice pack held to his head, not to mention be escorted off the property; hell, she could arrange it all just by batting her eyelashes at the right men.

Turning her head to look at Chance over her shoulder, Temperance merely smiled that smile of knowing before nodding agreeably at his warning. If there were problems, she would take care of it as best as possible; she couldn’t possibly avoid them all night, seeing as though the night was young.

“I’ll come back in a bit, I’ll be on break soon enough.” She promised, laughing as she wandered away, off to collect more empty glasses and orders from drunken miners.

Nathan Cox

Nathan Cox was tired, cold and hungry. He had spent the last three days getting rid of the lawmen on his trail. This was getting ridicolous he thought to himself. 500 dollars bounty on his head, dead or alive. For what. Defending himself in a fair duel.

He knew the man he shot in the heart was of some importance but never guessed it to be a pinkerton detective.

It was dark already when he came to this little sleeping mining town. Yawning as he saw the stables.

After stabling his grey horse he went straight to the saloon. He knew that to figure out a new town, the saloon was the best choice to enter.

Before going in the swing doors he adjusted his holster so his Peacemaker was easily reachable.

Once inside he observed all the peaple in the room. The bar waitress running from customer to customer, looking as good to eat he thought.

The poker shark at the table in a corner, Dressed in fine clothes. He must see how good this one is with his cards.

As he headed towards the bartender to get something for his dry mouth and tongue he saw an sight he never thought he would see in an saloon.

She came in through the swing doors with head high. A very properly dressed lady.

Nathan took of his stetson, caming through his hair with his fingers as he smiled at this sight. Brave woman he thought to himself.

"Good Evening, Miss Lake"

She didn't trust Chance so she didn't answer. She had no way of knowing that he owned the Last Chance (she registered the coincidence, but believed he stayed here because if the saloon's name, instead of the reverse) or knowing that he had no small hand in ensuring that the "school board's" new teacher had (relatively) secure, cheap housing.

“Hi Veronica!”

Though Temperance received no more than a nod, she as usual had a friendly, and a little too loud, greeting for her as she passed through the saloon.

“I’ll come up to see you after my shift, okay?”

She nodded, with a thin smile for Temperance.

She didn't really notice any of the other myriad of people here. Miners, gamblers, whores, ranchers' sons (he should not be drinking on a school night, she thought angrily .. but as was her way she said nothing to her wayward student) .. maybe an outlaw or two. She wished the 'school board' would find a respectable place for her to live. There was a proper hotel in town, though it was fairly new, and somewhat pricey (they seemed to be catering to the miners who had gotten lucky, and the traveling salesmen who profited regardless of the miners' successes or failures).

She thought she saw a militry type too. There were distant rumors of war .. and fear of the indians tremored through every aspect of life here. Dead Creek Falls had been fortunate thus far to avoid the depredations of the Sioux, which could not be said for all the miners, farmers, or ranchers that were beginning to intrude in earnest on what the Sioux considered to be holy ground. If a bunch of squatters decided to take up residence in the First Methodist Church back in Akron, and cut up the pews for firewood, she expected the reaction would be quite violent too .....

Her musings were interrupted as she topped the stairs, and literally ran directly into a drunken miner.

"Hey there pretty ... hows about you earn yer keep tonight?"

She let out a disgusted gasp, and tried to move away from the man. He angrily grabbed her wrist, causing the satchel to fall to the ground and burst open, sending school-papers flying everywhere, many of them fluttering like gigantic confetti down into the main floor of the saloon.

"I ain't askin ya!"

She had been spared such indignity up until now, but she had always feared a night like this.

"Sir," she said loudly, her voice waivering with terror, "Unhand me!"

He tugged, and she let out a shriek, which she hoped to be loud enough to be heard below. Whether it would do any good or not she did not know, and could only pray someone with a sense of honor resided with in the Last Chance Saloon ....

Nathan Cox

Nathans curiosity in this proper clothed woman made him do something he hadn´t done before. Following a woman around was against his principles, but she seemed so out of place here. Seing her walk up the stairs he followed some distance back. Was she a whore after all he thought to himself.

That theory was proven wrong when he heard her terror strucken voice.

"Unhand me!" Quickening his pace Nathan saw that the woman was grabbed by the arm by a drunk trying to drag her with him.

the woman shrieked loudly and then Nathan was there. The drunk felt the cold metal of Nathans colt at the back of his head with the icy words.

"No way to treat a lady, let go of her arm or i drop you right here and now!"

A large stage coach rumbled into the town. Pulled by a team of four black geldings, it rattled through the streets, stopping in front of the post office of the small town.

The red painted door of the coach opened and Angeline stepped out. She carefully pointed her soft, leather boot and stepped down gracefully onto the wooden porch of the post. A fetching dress of maroon satin set off her auburn hair and fair skin, soft lace around the neck line emphasizing the supple curves of her lithe body.

The coach rumbled away to park after its passenger had disembarked. Angeline tapped lightly on the door of the Post.

The Post Master emerged after a few moments. "Howdy, ma'am..." he began.

"Good evening," Angeline said in a silky tone. "I am new to town. Where might I find lodging for the night?"

After receiving directions from the Post Master, Angeline picked up her small travel case and stalked across the wooden walkways of the town, heading for the dive the Post Master had indicated, a wooden building with the rather ill omened name "Last Chance."

Angeline smirked to herself at the dark humor implied in the name, then pressed a hand on the saloon door, slipping inside and looking around the room.

Chance did not need to look up from his cards to know another of his "kind" was about to enter the Saloon. He knew because of the way the small hairs on his entire body bristled and how the air suddenly filled with electricity.

"Gentlemen I believe this is my pot."

Turning his hand of solid red hearts over he nodded to each and rose slowly.

"You are my guests and as so I offer you drinks on me, I have other.....duties to which I must attend and beg your forgiveness for my absence."

He moved towards the door at a seemingly casual pace, his body and face carefully controlled as she walked in.

"Welcome to the Last Chance Saloon and to Dead Creek Falls Miss....., I am honored that you've chosen my humble abode to enter and trust we can satisfy any of your wishes and needs if you would simply.....ask?"

Angeline

Angeline paused as she entered the saloon. She could feel that the saloon was a haven for another of the Kindred. There were proprieties to be observed.

A gentleman, dressed like a gun fighter or a gambler, approached her, but Angeline could smell the blood on him and knew he was one of her kind.

"Good evening. I hope I am not intruding. The post master said I might find sanctuary here while I stay in this town."

Angeline smiled at him, winsomely, just showing a flash of her white teeth.

Had she made demands or showed aggression there would have been a different reaction, Chance would had have to attack the woman and kill her, or be killed in return.

But there hadn't.

Instead she had paused and pleasantly enough stated her case in a way that Chance had but one choice to react in.

"It is not to the standards we both once were used to, but I can promise safe haven to you and those you command as long as you abide by my wishes."

Pleasant talk to any that might listen in for the woman before Chance was indeed breath taking and already had a group of men pausing from thier drinking to ogle her, and yet it was vital talk.

You and yours are safe for as long as you do not cross me His words translated to and yet they were not offensive for thier kind.

"Please enter and if you wish for a short time share my private table with me, I will have a man bring your luggage to a room suitable for your needs and see to the more private matters myself?"

Having set her tray on the bar top, waiting for the bartender to pick up the dirty glasses, Temperance was left to lean against the counter; delicate fingers tapping against the wooden top. Lioness-like eyes grazed over the masses of people, looking for someone she knew, or someone that looked like they could be a big tipper.

Generally, well-dressed gentlemen were well behaved and she didn’t have to worry about them making a grab for her in public; unless drunk, which was a totally different story.

Hearing Veronica’s high pitched wail, her attentions were directed over in that direction, brows furrowing as she frowned. Delicate hand came up to tuck dark locks behind her ear, the waitress looking around for Chance. When she couldn’t find him in his usual spot, Temperance sashayed her way over, sliding in and behind Veronica as the newest gentleman to the saloon helped her out.

How nice of him. Temperance was going to have to teach Veronica how to give ‘a look’ that generally deterred most drunks. “Are you alright love?” Temperance whispered near Veronica’s ear, her hands on Veronica’s forearm, a gentle, reassuring squeeze given.

Looking up once more, she finally found where Chance was, speaking to another woman. That rogue! That wolf in sheep’s clothing! Just when he was needed, he vanished – And ended up speaking to a beautiful woman. Alas, all men were the same.

Angeline smiled at him, cooly but politely. She understood his words. And she understood the message behind them. But then, she would have said much the same to a strange Kindred who'd come barging into her Haven.

"Of course. You will not find me an... unpleasant guest, I trust," Angeline replied, her voice melodic and soothing.

Angeline set her travelling case down and stepped forward, politely extending her gloved hand to him. "Your hospitality is appreciated. Please, let us retire to your table."

"No way to treat a lady, let go of her arm or i drop you right here and now!"\

A miner and a drunk, the man quickly lost interest in Veronica when the man's Colt was placed behind his head.

"Yeah .. Um .. sorry Miss. Uh ...."

He let go of Veronica and slowly raised his hands.

"Are you alright love?”

She nodded at Temperance, though clearly she was shaken.

"Th .. thank you, sir," she said to the man who was, to her view, a ne'erdowell .. but clearly appearance aside, had some token of honor and gentlemanliness within him.

Still shaking slightly, she knelt down and grabbed the satchel, and what papers she could reach, hurredly stuffing them back within ....

Nathan Cox

Holstering his peacemaker and watching the drunk leave. Nathan then turned his interrest to the two women in front of him.

"Are you alright love?” The words came from the young bar waitress he had noticed earlier, followed by a nod from the proper lady.

Nathan smiled mischeavously to the lady as he eyed her up and down hearing her words.

"Th .. thank you, sir"

"My pleasure miss" he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

"What is a pure dove like you doing in a place like this?" saying that smilingly as she knelt down to pick up her things.

Veronica blushes softly.

"Dove? Um .. I am the teacher in the school. Still .. new enough in town. The school board of the town have provided a room for me in the Last Chance Saloon .. Hardly fitting, but I am barely paid right now, so I can't complain."

She shrugs lightly, picking up the last of the papers up here. She looks down the stairs, to see more papers lying on the floor of the saloon, carelessly being stamped upon by the patrons down there. She sighs.

"Assignments. The hard work of my little lambs."

She signs once more, standing up, apparently content to lose the papers on the saloon floor.

"Um .. thank you again .. I didn't catch your name, sir?"

Enter Mason

Mason O'Grady reined in his horse as he neared town. It wouldn't do for the townsfolk to see poor Sikake in such a lather. They are content to believe that he, a simple gambling man, takes these daily rides to clear his head from a night of tobacco and whiskey. O'Grady needed to keep his true mission a secret from those around him. Especially those in the saloon.

Strange things have been afoot, disppearances, changes in peoples behaviour from one day to the next. And that poor soul he found this very morning, huddled in a cave north of town. A skeleton of a man, quivering in fear, his eyes bloodshot and wild.

He immediately begged for his life, thinking Mason was a 'demon-man' as he put it. The agent tried and tried to assuage the poor wretch, but to no avail. He left food and water at the mouth of the cave, and rode on.

Strange things indeed...

Like the strange feelings O'Grady often gets when playing cards. Like he is being watched...from the inside. Like someone has access to his very thoughts. A development he finds most disturbing.

Unless something is soon done, the secrets inside his head will be screts no more. And that could spell trouble. Not just for O'Grady or Dry Gulch, but the very state of fledgling politics in Washington and London. So far, Mason has stayed true, walling his inner thoughts up inside him, ever thankful for the tricks taught by the Blackfoot Elders to a fledgling agent.

He could still hear Black Elk's last words ringing in his ears...

'There are things known, Red Deer, and things not known...always guard all that you know from the things you know not yet.'

With heavy sigh, O'Grady dismounts in front of the saloon. Shouldering his pack, he trudges into the bar. And his eyes locked with the barmaid. Temperance, certainly a mystery to him. And there were others as well.

A man known only as Chance... Mason always got a weird chill when looking at him. Certainly, he was one of the men to watch out for.

Veronica....by all accounts a school teacher, and certainly a sheep amongst the wolves. Her intelligence would be an asset to him, but also a curse. She just might be well read enough to know where his 'North Country' truly was.

The man with the Peacemaker in hand, he must be Cox...A link to the unravelling mystery for sure. The darting eyes and quick reactions of an outlaw. Something certainly isnt right about him. And Mason O'Grady wasn't about to dance with the devil to get answers. Not yet anyway.

And that stunning young lady, talking to Chance....Whatever Chance is, they are two of a kind. The feeling received as he walked silently past them both set his hair on end. The idea of a 'Demon-Man' may have some ring of truth yet.

With a practised shrug, O'Grady climbed the stairs to his room, and slept. One needs his strength for another round of whisky and cards.

Nathan Cox

"Dove? Um .. I am the teacher in the school. Still .. new enough in town. The school board of the town have provided a room for me in the Last Chance Saloon .. Hardly fitting, but I am barely paid right now, so I can't complain."

Nathan is amused to see her blush. Most of the female company he have had the last few years had lost that ability early in their life. He saw her glance towards the papers that had flewn a way down the stairs.

"Assignments. The hard work of my little lambs." She sighs as she stands up.

Nathan goes down the stair picking up papers as he go until he got them all. He only needed to push one drunk out of the way doing so. Back to the teacher he handed her the papers, a little dirty but still readable.

"Um .. thank you again .. I didn't catch your name, sir?"

"Nathan Cox at your service dove" Tipping his stetson to her with a wink.

"What is your name then?" He said then with a smile.

She smiles widely, accepting the papers, dirty as they are.

"Veronica Lake ... Thank you, Mr. Cox. I am in your debt tonight."

She stuffed the papers into her satchel, closed it securely, and after a moment's hesitation, turned to go into her room ... glancing once at O'Grady as he hurried into his room. He was a man she knew only by name, and even that only indirectly. He was another one she placed in the disreputable column ....

Nathan Cox

Smiling after Veronica as she closes the door to her room. Nathan tips his stetson to the bar waitress as he lifts up his saddlebags from the floor and walks down the stairs.

Well down there he heads straight for the bartender. dropping the bags on the floor he says with his low voice.

"Whiskey and i need some questions answered"

Taking a sip of the whiskey he sees the bartenders asking expression.

"Where can i get a room and who should i speak to get a poker game running?"

Veronica sat at the little desk that had been set up in her room. She was looking through and grading papers .. or rather trying to. In fact, her mind was not at all on shool-work, but on wht had just happened.

She was not sure what felt more frightening to her: The drunk miner had reasonably assumed a woman on the second floor of the saloon was a woman of ill-repute. The man who helped her had pulled a gun, however. That seemed to her unreasonable .. grateful for it as she had been.

No, it was no use. She screwed the top back on her pen, and laid it down next to the well of ink, which she also closed up.

She stood, and paced. The noise from downstairs was getting to her tonight. She normally was able to tone it out, especially when she was grading papers, preparing lessons (she had to prepare for kinder-garten through college-preparatory students, and thus had half a dozen different lessons to prepare, in each of English, Mathematics, Literature, and Religion), or just simply reading.

Tonight, she simply coouldn't focus. She tried reading Shakespeare. She tried reading her Bible devotional. She even tried her hand at writing in her journal. Nothing worked.

She sighed, and rather reluctantly left her room, going down to the noise and smoke of the saloon. Trying not to be seen, she sat down on one end of the bar, and waited for the saloon-keeper to finish serving alcohol to the men .. she was trying to read the placard on the back wall for something without alcohol that she could order ....

Nathan Cox

Seing Veronica sitting on the opposite end of the bar nathan smiled to the bartender.

"I find it out later" he says as he heads over to the school marm.

"Seat taken?" he asks as he sits down on the stool next to her. Meanwhile smiling widely to her and placing his whiskey in front of him.

"Haven´t gotten in enough trouble?" he asks with laughing eyes.

"No. Not taken," she says quietly.

"And .. no. Or .. um .. yes. I mean .. I don't want any more trouble. I cannot focus tonight."

She sighs, still waiting patiently for the tender, then shrugs ...

"Though I suppose if I don't get something to drink I will probably go back upstairs and try again."