Blood & Bullets

Nathan Cox

Looking for the bartender Nathan says to Veronica.

"He seems rather busy at the moment." Smiling slightly as he turns back to her.

"One thing i was meaning to ask you" He takes of his stetson and places it on the bar table, next to his whiskey.

"in a town like this it is always good to know how to defend one self." looking at her seriously.

"You know how to handle a gun?"
 
Last edited:
Veronica blinks and shivers slightly.

"Guns .. are not ... I don't .. don't care for them."

She turns away from him at the very suggestion that she learn to use such a thing.

During the Late Unpleasentness, she lost two older brothers during the battles of Atlanta and Petersburg. She remembered all too vividly seeing their cold, still bodies lying in packing crates, not so much coffins as packing crates, embalmed so they would survive the trips North and West to Ohio.

That is the image she associated with guns, and with war in general. Her dead brothers packed, preserved, and shipped like sides of beef.

She shuddered at the mental image ....
 
Nathan Cox

"Guns .. are not ... I don't .. don't care for them." Seing her turn away Nathan sighs. He have no idea why this was so important to him. She seemed so very innocent and unprotected.

"Guns are no danger in themself, it is how peaple can use them that can be dangerous."

Smiling slightly he adds "you may never even need to use it, just as an precaution. To avoid the situation you where in tonight."
 
Last edited:
"Sir," she responds frostily, "the way to avoid the situation I was in tonight, would be to find proper lodgings, away from this .. place."

She turns, and pauses.

"But ... I thank you for your concern."

She drums her fingers on the bar, aware that the gesture isn't very becoming ... but she isn't certain what else to do ... she doesn't want to stay here, or go to her room, or go out into the moonlit night .. so she decides to stay here after all ....
 
Nathan Cox

"I will not try to persuade you" Nathan says seriously. Sipping on his whiskey he fingers the rim of his hat that lies on the table. Damn woman he thinks to himself.

Must be from a very safe upbringing. Out here in the west where the threat of outlaws and indians never are far away. Most women learned how to shoot a gun at an early age.

Nathan was born and raised in Arizona. That part of the land it was essential to have the skills to use a weapon. No matter if you where man or woman, even children learned to fire rifles.

His mother and sister sure knew how to handle themself. Casting a glance on Veronica he noticed how lonely she looked. Nathan started to wonder why she had taken the journey out to this backwater town and where she was from originally.

"Hmm, why did a young female like yourself come to a little town like this?" He smiled towards her.
 
Last edited:
"Your hospitality is appreciated. Please, let us retire to your table."

Chance offered his hand and guided his new guest to his table.

"Gentlemen if you wouldn't mind I'd like some time with this Lady?"

To thier credit none of the four men complained and two even removed thier hats as they left, allowing Chance to pull a chair back and seat his guest.

"My name is Chance Devon. I'm very pleased to see a Lady such as yourself join us here. It would honor me to share a bottle of my special wine I've had set aside for an occasion like this, if you would agree?"

She was a beautiful woman, the cut of her dress and the style of her hair hinting at a life in a much finer enviroment than the one she was in now but Chance made no apologies, this was a new country and hopefully for them all a new lifestyle.He nodded and caught Sue's eyes and she nodded in return, there was no need for her to ask out loud what he wanted for they were able to speak on a different level.

"There are few of us here, on occasion I've felt others moving through this country, but other than my own precious Sue behind the counter you are the first to stop. I hope we might convince you to stay with us and share of yourself if only for a short time?"

Chance took hiw own seat, his back to the wall of the storeroom and took a few seconds to look abouth the room as it continued to fill itself with people.

"This town has grown tenfold in less than six months. By last count there are over two thousand people living in or near abouts Dead Creek, it leaves great opportunities for us and also great responsibilities, I'm hoping you might speak with me of both in private sometime?"
 
Samuel Hawkins rode his old grey horse into town, quietly surveying bustling mining town. It was early evening, and the sun had long since set. He saw lights, and quite a bit of activity ahead, and continued towards it...sure enough, it was a saloon, the sign post above it reading "The Last Chance Saloon." He didn't like the irony of the name...this very well MIGHT be his last chance.

It looked like the place was packed with patrons, some overflowing into the street in their drunken revelry. He rode up, and dismounted, tying his horse's reins lightly to the hitching post. As he walked up to the entrance, he saw a few of the drunkards sizing him up...he was a tall man, and quite thin. His black duster flapped in the light breeze, and his threadbare clothing hung off him, as if he hadn't eaten for a week or more, looking to have seen better days, quite worn and travel stained. He wore his black hat low, his head down as if he was examining his old scuffed boots, his long black hair hanging limply, the gray at his temples standing out in sharp contrast. He looked as if hadn't shaved in days, the scruff of beard growing in somewhat unruly. A small silver crucifix hung at his neck, looking old and tarnished. He looked like a vagabond...a tumbleweed passing through...appearing homeless, penniless and worthless.

The locals grinned to themselves thinking to have themselves some fun, starting to move forward towards him, fists clenched...until he raised his eyes, backing them down with an icy glare that promised violence if provoked, his hands near his gun holsters, where the well worn handles of the two peacemakers he had at his hip were easily in sight...and might have given them pause. He grabbed the saddlepack off the back of his horse, and with the other, pulled out his Springfield rifle. He walked towards the group of bully-boys, a pronounced limp to his gait, and they parted, giving him a wary look as he entered the saloon.

The place was crowded, but he was able to make it over to the bar fairly easily. The barkeep came over, inquiring what he wanted. In a voice rich with a thick Kentucky accent, he replied, "I'll take a whiskey, friend. And I reckon' I'll take a room if you've got one." He paused, slapping down some money on the counter. "Also, some information," he reached into his shirt pocket, pulling out a faded picture, and showed it to the barkeep. It was a picture of a pretty dark-haired girl with a bright smile. "I've been lookin' for this here little girl. She's my kin...my daughter...and I'd be much obliged if you'd take a look and see if you can recollect seein' her anywhere. I heard she may have pas't through here in comp'ny of a bunch of rough lookin' hard-cases." He lifted his hand off the money and awaited a reply.
 
Last edited:
Sue nodded in return to Chance and eyed the "Lady" who sat with him with a mixture of curiousity and sadness.

Once she had worn such finery and had many a man try to win her heart. But that was too long ago and in a different world.

Reaching under the counter she drew a bottle of Chance's "special stock" and placed it with two freshly washed glasses on a serving platter.

"Take these to Chance's table if you would, please?" She spoke to the nearest saloon girl and then turned to her next customer.

"Whiskey we have sir, perhaps even a bottle of "mash" if my ears serve me right and it would suit your taste? As for a room there are several available all on the east hall and with fresh linen."

She smiled and took the coins from the counter and made change, then lifted the picture of the dark haired girl to look at it.

"I seem to remember hearing something, sir, but apologize as I haven't seen her, though you may want to speak to Chance when he's done talking with his guest?"

Again she smiled and looked at the man closer, her eyes looking past the unshaven and tired face to see the man as he once might have been.

"Sir, if the girl in your picture is your daughter it would be well worth your wait to stay here awhile, the rooms are clean and the whiskey is good, and after a time I predict you may find several people sympathetic to your plight. Your room is 109 and the first right at the top of the stairs."

It was all the time she had to speak to him, thirsty miners were hammering thier hands on the far end of the counter and she moved to help the other bartender, smiling and making jokes as she poured the drinks and collected coins and gold nuggets in return.

"Temperance it looks like the School marm could use a drink as well as the man sitting with her, would you be a dear?"
 
So many things happening at once! New visitors to the bar, she noted, along with some social pleasantries going on. Alas, there was too much to keep up with – Not that she wouldn’t try.

Moving around with the grace of a panther, Temperance made her rounds, collecting empty glasses and returning filled ones. She avoided Chance and his ‘friend’, assuming that there was something private going on, seeing as though his poker table had cleared out so the two could talk.

Setting the tray on the counter, Temperance took a breather, standing and watching other bar girls make their rounds, her gaze coming to rest on Sue. She was a lovely person, always having been friendly – And so Temperance was friendly back, taking a particular liking to her – And on occasion, stepping in when someone was being particularily rude.

Temperance always did like to play the bouncer, even though she was the farthest thing from it.

Lost in her reverie, Temperance almost missed what Sue said, the young woman blinking. “Oh, sure Sue!” She smiled, moving down towards where Veronica and the male were sitting. “What can I get you two?” Temperance asked pleasantly, sending a smile Veronica’s way. Glancing over at Samuel and Sue, Temperance winked at the other bar-maid, giving her a cheeky smile as if to say, ‘oooh, new meat!’

Waiting for the order, Temperance shifted her stance, hips cocked to the side, delicate hands perched on each.
 
Last edited:
Angeline smiled coyly as she swept her skirt in to her calves, taking the seat gracefully. The mortals drifted off to a respectful distance... as was appropriate.

The other Kindred took another seat at the table and introduced himself. Angeline tilted her head in a peculiarly birdlike gesture, watching him intently and then smiled a slow, blood red smile. "An honor, Mr. Devon. I am Angeline. I would be pleased share a glass of wine with you."

She didn't offer a family name. In truth, it would have been irrelevant. Her natural family had died long, long ago. Angeline noted how easily the other Kindred blended in to the environment of the saloon, apparently fully comfortable with the surroundings. That suggested that he was a younger Kindred, still able to blend in with the mortals, though of course it would have been terribly impolite to ask his age. Besides, older Kindred often learned from hard experience to become excellent actors.

"I've encountered a few of us in the East, some smaller Covens hidden in the larger cities," Angeline replied smoothly, polished as fine obsidian. "But of course, the wild has little attraction for many of us and this great West is still very much wild, yes?"

Angeline had a very light accent. A skillful ear might have called it French, or possibly German. Angeline herself prided herself on her own skills as an actress and was gifted with accents.

"I am here for my own purposes and not looking to settle permanently," Angeline replied calmly, polite but cool. "But I would be pleased to hear how you prefer to adminster this town."

She noted that he still felt their kind had responsibiliies to the mortals, like a farmer taking care of a flock so as to insure continual shearing. Angeline herself had quite the opposite view. The mortals were to be fed upon, toyed with, and otherwise ignored, so long as they did not become aware of the Kindred in their midst.
 
Seamus "Top" Macleary pinched the bridge of his nose between his thick fingers, fighting to stave off a headache that had been sneaking up on him for the last hour. And what’s worse, he was in yet another of his perpetual bad moods. He slid his hand over his gleaming bald pate as if looking for a way to squeeze the pain out, and ended by twirling the ends of his luxurious black and silver mustache to the accompaniment of a heavy sigh as he got back to work.

He poured another dozen or so drinks, sending a few of them skittering along the top of the well polished bar with a snap of his fingers, and reached into his back pocket for some real booze. Taking a small sip to ease the pain in his head, the bulky Scot stumped his way down to the other end of the bar as he replaced the flask, giving his curvaceous 'assistant' room to move around behind the wooden slab and take care of a few of the patrons, and eased himself down onto the padded stool he kept back in the corner. Reaching down, he nonchalantly un-strapped the wood and leather contrivance from his right leg and massaged the stump that was all that remained of his lower extremity, not bothering to worry about offending those that came by.

He had lost that leg saving lives, and was damn proud of that fact, not that he would ever admit to it. The only face he showed the folks around here was that on an embittered old hardass who had simply seen too much, which was, unfortunately, also true. He was a stumpy mountain of a man, with arms like bundled hawsers and a barrel chest deep enough to age good bourbon, no real neck to speak of, and the general disposition that one could expect from a former First Sergeant. His shaggy eyebrows, the only hair on his entire head besides that rather resplendent mustache, hung over his smoldering brown eyes like a wooly riverbank and the lines etched into his face were symbols of the life he had led, and the time it had taken to get here.

Reattaching the peg-leg, he adjusted his black trousers, pushed himself off from his seated position, resettled the leather vest over his rumpled white shirt, and checked the heavy-bladed bowie knife he had snugged at his hip. He had started carrying that blade while still serving in the Army, and had gotten rather adept at saving his own life with it if the need arose. He knew all too well that the wide blade wasn’t going anywhere, but he had been checking it every time he got up for the last twelve years or so, and old habits are hard to break.

Looking around the busy room, taking careful stock of who was where and who might need to be dealt with, the cantankerous bartender spied the ruckus at the top of the stairs and grinned a bit. he had wondered how long it would take for one of these drunk idiots to try for the pretty schoolteacher, and was rather relieved when he saw someone else deal with the problem. Not that he wouldn't have, mind you. He could just as easily gotten involved, but in the mood he was in, someone would have ended up hurt or dead. He just wasn't in the mood to put up with anyone at the moment.

Knowing her dislike for the stronger stuff, he reached under the stone set in the floor and brought out the corked jug of Sweet Tea that he kept there, pouring a glassful for the rather frazzled Ms. Veronica even as he watched a load of newcomers enter through the swinging doors, corking and returning the earthenware container while he sized them up.

One seemed like a true lady, and was immediately snared by none other than Chance himself... that alone set off the warning bells in the old Scot's mind. During their three year relationship, Seamus had learned not to ask about a lot of things, had let a few odd comments or even stranger occurrences go unheeded by his old eyes, and Chance, for his part, had learned to just give the stumpy old warhorse his breathing room. Thereby, while their interaction gave him pause, it didn't necessarily worry the old man, nor was it a source of particular interest.

The man that had intervened on behalf of the shaken Teacher had arrived shortly before her, and everything about him told the bartender that he was an experienced shot with that hogleg he bore. He had the same look, the same predatory intensity that Seamus had seen in countless towns, and had seen fall in countless dusty roads.

The next one in had always put the old mans teeth on edge, and not just because he was Irish. There was just something not right with the one that called himself O'Grady, and things that didn't jibe made Seamus nervous. And Seamus nervous isn't really a good thing. Most simply considered the old Scot's dislike of the man to stem from bad blood between their ancestral people, and hell they might even be right. But that didn't make the man any more likable.

Most recent through the door was dusty from the road and looked like he might have fallen over right then from starvation. The man's clothes hung from him like he was a coat rack, and his dour demeanor was palpable even from here. He spoke with Sue at the other end of the bar, and seemed to show her something, asking questions no doubt, about a missing relative. There were a lot of missing relatives in this town.

He stumped his way over and sat the cool tea before the School Marm himself, a slight and wordless apology for the earlier trouble, indicated to her rescuer that the drink he already had plus his next one were both on the house, and returned to the bar before speaking to Sue. "Alright then girlie" he said in his deep, rich brogue, nodding toward the too skinny traveler "What did he want then?"
 
Last edited:
She was about to respond to Nathan's question when Temperance came over to her to take her order. She looked at her uncertain .. and that is when Samus came over to them, and set down a glass of sweet tea before her.

She nodded to him, with a slight smile.

"Um, tea will be fine," she said to Temperance with a slight grin.

"I came here, Mr. Cox, because I wanted more than to be married off to one of my fathers' friends' sons. This way, I have some measure of independence, an income, meager though it is, and .. adventure."

She said the last word with bitter irony, and sipped at her tea ....
 
Nathan Cox

Nathan nodded a thanks to Seamus, then looked back to Veronica. The bitter irony in her voice wasn´t lost on him. Sighing slightly he never understood how big city folks could think they could come out to the west seeking adventure.

Seeking adventure out here usually came with a big price. How many good peaple had he not seen coming out here with big hopes of a better life. Some made it good but most got ruined in the process.

He could understand her view though. Unwanted marriage threatening around the corner. He could also see her point in independence. A thing not so common among women, even in the west.

Maybe she did not know that even men was not always so independent. Some had a wife to provide for, children and even a farm.

Suddenly awakening from his thoughts he saw the stranger entering. He was tall and thin and looked like a gunfighter. Nathan did not like the sight of this man. He was holding a Springfield rifle and Nathan saw the two Peacemakers.

He was that kind of man who looked like he knew how to use the weapons like an expert. Nathans hand restlessly moved closer to his own Peacemaker, while his other hand held his whiskey glass.

Nathan had pretty much outgrown the desire to challenge other gunfighters that looked to be in the same league as his own. He was tempted though.

Smiling thinly he keeps his eyes on the stranger as he says to Veronica.

"Call me Nathan, if you where looking for adventure. I guess you did not mean that in the sense of what happened upstairs." Smiling to her he adds.

"If you don´t let me teach you how to shoot, i just have to keep an eye on you." Smiling widely he sips his whiskey.
 
Last edited:
"Alright then girlie................What did he want then?"

Sue smiled and took her time before replying.

She smiled not because of the words or the tone they were spoken in but because of the brogue and what it once reminded her of.

"Family. He's looking for what's left of his family, Mac. A small girl that was taken from him and it seems the little tike is all he has left."

Another order for a round of drinks came to her and she concentrated on filling it for a few seconds, setting shot glasses on a serving tray and then filling them with, her eyes on the crowd as each glass was filled with two fingers.'

"Hey Top? You'd better cut the mix a bit, there's so much hooch in this it makes my eyes water."

Winking at the gruff bear sized man she turned to the chore of swapping empty kegs for full ones, her eyes returning to Chance and the "Lady" with him.

"The man you asked about, his search for his daughter is all he has left in this world, if I'm a good judge of things he's lost his wife and home and with them everything he once took pride in, the only thing he cares about now is that girl and those guns he's wearing. He's no danger except to those who oppose him and I think if he found someone to help him he'd be a good friend."

She had voiced the idea Chance had once spoken to her of some weeks ago. Of needing allies on both sides, human and immortal, people who could be trusted with thier lives because they were treated the same.

Moving back down the bar to where the man still stood she slid another drink in front of him and spoke.

"Look Mister, tomorrow night I'm going to introduce you to a man that can help you, if he decides to there will be a price but that price will be fair, it always is.

Tonight you take this drink on the house, relax and get a good rest, maybe even a bath and your suit cleaned? When I go on shift tomorrow I want him to see your best side along with that picture with you telling him as you did me just how it is, allright? Think about it over your drink and give me an answer before you leave tonight if it interests you."

Moving back to the center of the bar and where the loudest clamor for drinks was she went to work once again, her hands a blur of speed as she filled shot glass and schooner one after the other, trading ribald insults and dirty jokes with the regulars as she slaked thier thirsts.

Her eyes carefully scrutinizing each and every person that walked into the saloon
 
Samuel downed his whiskey, grimacing slightly at the burn. It'd been quite awhile since he'd had true sour mash whiskey, and the ghost of a smile appeared on his face. As he'd tipped his head back, he noticed a fellow in a black stetson giving him a wary eye, his hand twitching near his gunbelt. The stranger was talking to a pretty lady, but the man's gaze seemed to have locked on him. Samuel sized him up as well, meeting the man's gaze evenly and giving him a nod in respectful acknowledgement. "No use gettin' in a pissin' match over which of us has more sand in 'em," he thought to himself, "I've got better things to do."

The man appeared to be a gunslinger like himself, although a younger and more pretty, polished version. Once, Samuel had been thought attractive, but the road he'd traveled had been hard, and he figured the days when pretty young maids had given him a second glance had long since passed and only slightly less since he'd felt the touch of a lady that hadn't asked for payment afterwards. The last time he'd seen his reflection, he'd looked like death warmed over, and since then, he'd lost even more weight, skipping meals, eating in the saddle as he rode hard on the trail of the bastards who'd taken his daughter. It didn't take much foresight to realize that he couldn't keep this breakneck pace. His body was already suffering for it. As much as he hated to lose more time on the trail, he needed to rest, if only for a day or two.

Sue stopped in front of him, setting another whiskey in front of him. She looked at him, saying, "Look Mister, tomorrow night I'm going to introduce you to a man that can help you, if he decides to there will be a price but that price will be fair, it always is."

"Tonight you take this drink on the house, relax and get a good rest, maybe even a bath and your suit cleaned? When I go on shift tomorrow I want him to see your best side along with that picture with you telling him as you did me just how it is, allright? Think about it over your drink and give me an answer before you leave tonight if it interests you."

He tipped his hat politely in gratitiude. "Thank ya kindly, ma'am. I surely would appreciate any help finding my little girl. As for the other...well, I been travellin' for quite awhile now, I reckon'...and I surely would appreciate a chance to clean up and a good shave...any chance of findin' a hot meal somewhere 'round here? I ain't had much to eat in the past few days."
 
She glanced at Nathan, with a soft sigh. It wasn't the first time some one had misunderstood her humor, and took her seriously. Ah well.

"If you don´t let me teach you how to shoot, i just have to keep an eye on you."

She noticed his gaze, and noticed the guns the new arrival blatantly displayed. She shivered lightly, certain there was going to be trouble.

"Sure," she said absently, sipping her tea as he was his whisky.

Drinks and guns. Wonderful. Just the combination needed for bloodshed....
 
"This great West is still very much wild, yes?"

"It is indeed my dear, wild and with a unique and direct way of taking care of it's own business. Rather than call the local law in they prefer to use "Judge Colt" to quote the quaint phrase used around here."

His private brand of wine in hand he poured them both a glass and then lifted his in a toast.

"To meeting new friends in the most unexpected of times and places."

They drank and Chance waited for her approval, his eyes taking in the grace and beauty of his guest as she lowered her glass and lifted her eyes.

"I hope we can be friends Angeline and that you will allow me to share my experiences in this new world for your own benefit."
 
Having the school marm and her friend's order taken off her hands, Temperance gave a cheeky grin to the tender before setting off with a damp towel in hand, sashaying away from the counter. Winking at Sue, Temperance disappeared into the crowd of drunken patrons, appearing next to Chance's table as he made his toast.

Leaning over, an ample amount of bosom was flashed Chance's way before Temperance looked up, smiling prettily at the vampire. "Anything else you need, love?" Temperance purred, "Perhaps a meal for you and your pretty friend?" She was, of course, referring to the lady that also sat at the table, visiting with the 'regular'.

Then again, Temperance didn't know that her kind of meal wasn't satisfying to the two beings sitting at the table -- Even if she did, it would of been a fun barb she could dangle, just because she could.
 
Nathan Cox

(OOC Sorry for the short post, didnt have much time)

(IC)

Nathan gave the thin man a nod and turned to the Bartender.

"Who do i speak to about a game of cards and to get a room?" He started to feel his hunger again.

"And some food." Eying Veronica. "Are you hungry?"
 
"Hungry? Well, I ate before I left the school. I always take some sandwiches to get me through the day. I .. suppose I could eat something a little more solid."

She shrugs, quite uncomfortable with being down here in the first place, let alone with so many obviously armed men. Even so, her mind is simply not up to anything else, and she is not tired enough to retire for the night.
 
”It might not make your eyes water so much, me dear” Seamus snipped back at Sue, one furry brow arched in mock anger ”If ye didn’t rub ‘em while pourin the bloody drinks!”

Throwing the whore a roguish half smile, the bald barkeep limped his way over and pointedly removed the heavy keg from the slender girls grip, motioning instead toward the wooden spigots nearby. He may be a hard-bitten, difficult, grouchy old man, but he wasn’t about to stand by while this slip of a girl tried to wrestle the monstrous barrels into the racks. She could just as easily do the set up work after he got the heavy labor out of the way…

He listened to her description and determinations about the man he had asked after, and wasn’t overly shocked when the tale turned out to be all too familiar. He understood how a man could become that driven, that focused. He had seen desperate men, had led them into battle, and had watched them die needlessly. The fact that this man still lived was a testament of will, a revelation of the determination that lay couched within that rail-thin frame. It was the way he held his grip on that old Springfield that worried him the most, however. Men pulled this taunt were likely to snap with only a little provocation, and it would invariably fall to his old shoulders to either stop it, or clean it up. He’d have to keep a close eye on this one, that was certain.

Seamus finished up with the kegs and turned to hear Nathan’s query, wiping his hands on the ever-present bar towel as he gave his answer. ”Well now, you’ll have to be talkin to Mr. Devon about a game,” he said with a jerk of his shiny head toward the front table ”But from the look of things, ye’d be best waitin fer tomorrow evening afore ye bothered with that. Rooms we have plenty of, at five dollars a week, and I’m the one ye’d be seein fer that.

I’ve no food to speak of though…”
he added thoughtfully ”Most don’t come here to fill that particular need, if ye take my meanin. There is a fine little kitchenette just down the way though, with a fine cobbler and a decent stew now that I’ve showed them how to make it.”
 
Nathan nodded his thanks to the Bartender.

"I take a room for three weeks, may be here longer or shorter. He smiles slightly to Veronica before turning and sees who the bartender was meaning.

Eying Chance for a moment he turns back to Veronica.

"I can grab you something to eat from the place this gentleman told of."

"If you can keep out of trouble that is?" Saying that with a wink.
 
Veronica looks at the man uncertainly .. then with even greater uncertainty at the increasingly seedy denziens of the saloon.

"Well .. I believe that if you escort me to this kitchenette .. I will share a bite with you .. and will be sure to remain out of trouble."

She grins slightly in answer to his wink, and drinks the last of her tea ....
 
Nathan Cox

"Very well milady" Nathan said with a smile on his lips. Drinking up his whiskey and then stands up. He casts a glance over to Chance, but as the man is busy with that beautiful woman he decides it best to discuss gambling on another time.

Looking back to Veronica he smiles and offers his hand and bows his head slightly.

"If you are ready to be escorted, then i am ready to escort you." He says.
 
Angeline accepted the glass of wine gracefully in long, slender fingers. She lifted it to her dark red lips and drank.

"Excellent," she purred, flashing the other Kindread a slow, dark smile. "Perhaps a ... friendship could benefit us both."

Of course, amongst the unliving, friendship was rare and fleeting. But desire and ambition were remained, stronger than ever.

Angeline turned slight to glance over the saloon girl, giving her an appraising, cool once over, mouth twisting in a semblance of a smile.

"A meal?" Angeline said slowly, letting her tongue roll over the words in her mouth, lingering on them and then eyeing the other woman again. She might be a tasty treat at that, though Angeline prefered to hunt rather than maintaining a blood doll.
 
Back
Top