• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Realistic or Modern Strangest Place in the West

Henrietta Nock
Henrietta fixed her hair as best she could, piling her dark locks into a rudimentary bun. She was used to having a servant help her style it, but she was fresh out of those. It will have to do, she sighed. She donned a breezy cotton morning dress and locked the bedroom door behind her. She stopped at the balcony overlooking the saloon, taking a moment to observe the people therein. The madam, Midge, was now playing a lively tune on the piano; the man who helped her with her bags, Thomas, played the banjo.The girl who had greeted her at the door, Lizzy, (Was it Lizzy?) was chatting up a coal miner at the bar. To think that I would find kindness in a place such as this! Miss Nock thought. Perhaps she had been too hasty in judging their character. Hattie lingered at the balcony, hoping to avoid drawing attention to herself. Although I could certainly use a guide.
day-gown.jpg

spectro spectro WordArtist WordArtist
 
Lizzy watched behind the man with keen eyes, she saw Midge walk to the piano with such an elegant yet confident stride, her eyes glittering at the opportunity to sing. Lizzy had always been envious of her Mistress, but not in a sinful way; Lizzy wanted to be like Midge. She wanted to walk around without having the weight of the world on her shoulders; she didn't want people to pity her because she was young and small and fragile. She didn't want to be overlooked because she didn't have an outstanding talent. And yet, the more she thought, she knew that Midge couldn't have always been so confident. Lizzy knew that there must have been struggles for her too.

Tommy, looking cheerful pulled out his banjo and played along with Midge. Lizzy looked playfully at the man she had been trying to butter up, though he had been surprisingly stubborn, and she touched his knee gently. "Look handsome," She said, suddenly spurred on by her surroundings and wanting to be more like Midge, "If you aint gon' do nothin'," She snatched a shot of whiskey from the bar and pulled her dress up past her thigh,"I might have to take matters," She swung her leg over the man and sat on his lap, "Into my own hands." She downed the shot and and slammed it on the bar. As the whiskey burned her throat, something else burned her cheek. Lizzy sucked in a breath as the pain flooded through her face. The rat-faced miner had slapped her. Suddenly angry, she jumped off of his lap and prepared to give him hell. She opened her mouth, her face now red from the impact and emotion and jumped back as the son of a bitch threw his guts up all over the floor.

"God dammit!" Lizzy jumped back further as the putrid vomit spread across the floor boards, the man crouched on his knees, retching. Suddenly, Lizzy felt bad for having pushed so much alcohol on the guy, although, now she thought about it, he looked like he was a little worse than drunk. "Oh shit, look I think you're a little too sewn up." She tucked her hair behind her ears and bent down to his level. This was probably her fault, again. "You want me to get ya some water, mister?" But the man didn't look up and his whole body just shook.

"Get the fuck outta my face you damn Mauk before I bark ye and feed ye to the dogs." His face was scarlet, almost transitioning to blue. His nose was dripping blood and a vein pulsed in his forehead. To Lizzy's surprise, he was crying. Startled to her core, Lizzy stumbled back, took in a big breath and took off upstairs.
 
Midge always kept an eye on her girls, making sure the boys didn't get too rough with them. It wouldn't do to have her girls come in bruised the next day. They showed too much skin for that to fly. But when Lizzy ran upstairs after a slap in the face and an angry talking-to, it wasn't the girl Midge was aiming to sate. Carefully lowering the fallboard over the keys, Midge slid off the bench and snapped her fingers at two of her girls. After speaking with them quietly, one went off to get a mug of water while the other grabbed a few wet rags. While one cleaned, the other tended the gentleman at arm's length, offering water and a wet cloth to help wash away the grime. Whether he accepted or not was up to him.

Midge, on the other hand, headed upstairs. "LIZZY!" her voice bellowed up them ahead of her, warning the girl that she was on her way up. Midge wasn't the coddling sort, and by now, the young saloon girl knew it. At the top of the stairs, however, she caught sight of the freshened-up lady, and she offered a sweet smile. "Apologies for that mess. They get a little too much in them from time to time, I fear. You look about ready to go out. Would you like me to send someone out with you?"

spectro spectro Bethari Bethari
 
Henrietta Nock
Hattie gaped, eyes darting between Lizzy, Midge, and the sick man below. "Yes," she said, coming back to her senses, "Although I believe Miss Lizzy would like a change of clothes." The heiress eyed the poor girl's dress. Chunks of half-digested potato flecked its hem. A yellowish stain, most likely beer, marred the bodice, not that it had been in the best shape to start with. "I could loan you something of mine," she continued, "Really, it would be no trouble at all."

Without waiting for a reply, Hattie darted into her room. A few whumps and scraping could be heard, the sounds of someone searching through luggage. She returned a few minutes later with a brown satin pelisse. It was slightly wrinkled from the long journey, but was otherwise spotless. It even came with a matching straw bonnet, not unlike the one Henrietta arrived in. "It should fit," she said breathlessly. "We seem to be about the same size, although it would be best if you wore something simple under it." She offered the hat and coat to Lizzy.

promenade-dress.jpg

spectro spectro WordArtist WordArtist
 
Last edited:
Thomas had just stopped playing as he saw Lizzy becoming a bit more forceful with the coal miner at the end of the bar. He had just set down his banjo when the poor man had vomited all over her following her antics.

He was just about to rush to help as Midge summoned two of her girls to the man's side and the floor respectively. He sighed and turned to Jack.

"Another day, another dime, eh Jack?"

The old miner shrugged. "If that's the goin' rate."

Thomas turned his attention to Henrietta, who had emerged from the top of the stairs and watched her carry on a conversation with Midge, then run back into her room to get clothes for Lizzy. He merely sighed and picked up the shot glass Lizzy had left empty, cleaning it with a rag before setting in under the counter to be used again.
 
Lizzy's stomach wrenched when she heard Midge yell. It was a sound that could strike fear into her soul, but not only that, disappointment. In herself. She stood on the middle of the landing, holding her arms around herself, her eyes welling with tears. She hated being told she was wrong, that she'd been stupid, even though she knew that she had. Every day, guys treated her like shit, slapped her around a little bit or called her a whore, but this was different. The look in that guys eyes made Lizzy sick to her core. His bleeding nose; the tears; the voice. She closed her eyes tight and a tear escaped but she wiped it away quickly and regained composure. Swallowing the utter fear that she felt, she held herself up straight and tried to calm her trembling.

Lizzy heard her Mistress approaching and so she started to explain herself, "Midge, I'm sorry. That guy- he spooked me. Shoulda seen the look in his eye, Midge. He was straight from hell-" Midge arrived on the landing, but she didn't talk to Lizzy straight away. It was someone else in the corner. The fancy lady, from earlier. Lizzy felt even more exposed. She felt even more stupid. She was willing to bet that that holier than thou bitch was about to say something-

"I could loan you something of mine," The lady said, smiling. Lily forgot her terror for a second. This lady was being nice to her; a cat house whore. No one was ever really nice to Lizzy, especially not rich folk. Lizzy opened her mouth to thank her, but the lady was already gone, back into her room. She returned later with a brown dress, and although it wasn't the nicest colour, it certainly looked lavish.

Lizzy was lost for words. She wanted the dress, of course she did, it looked like it had been made for her. But why would a lady of the line have needs for such grandeur? She had a couple more dresses in her room, anyway. Sure they were all the same, revealing and dirty and ragged around the edges, but that was the uniform for her line of work. "Thank you ever so much, Miss, but I will be fine. 'Fact all I need is a breath a' fresh air and a mug a' water an' I'll be dandy, I'm sure of it." Her eyes looked at the lady with total regret, but how could Lizzy take such a gift? Even if she was only lending the garment, Lizzy just wasn't good enough to wear something so beautiful. She looked at Midge. "I can pay you back for the time I wasted- but I- I can't work down there til he's gone, Midge, please- just get him out, I don't care how ya do it, but I can't go back down there, that man-" Her voice caught again and she straightened up, "Just call for me when he's gone."

Lizzy turned on her heels, tears filling her eyes again, both from regret at not taking the dress and the thought of that face; the red eyes and pulsing vein. He was no average drunk. Picking up her pace, Lizzy pushed open the door that led to the outdoor stairs and she marched down them, feeling the warm air brush her skin and suddenly realizing that wasn't so steady; the whiskey had effected her a little. The smell of vomit was more apparent outside, and now she regretted not taking the dress even more. She leaned on the side of the saloon, the sharp wood of the building scratching her back and the sun beating down on her. She suddenly felt like an idiot.

Why had she ever wished for anything but the norm?

WordArtist WordArtist Bethari Bethari
 
Midge gave the lady her sweetest smile at her concern for Lizzy. "You're precious. Thank you. Don't mind her; she's a bit overwhelmed, but she'll be perfectly fine once she catches her breath. I'll send Lizzy out with you, and don't you worry; she'll be wearing something decent for town. Why don't you relax for a little while in your room, and I'll have Lizzy come get you when she's ready?" She didn't wait for an answer before following Lizzy out to the back balcony.

The saloon mistress was a cold woman, to be sure, but she wasn't about to make a fool of her girl in front of a guest. She closed the back door behind her and turned to lean her back against the railing beside Lizzy. "You're right; he was no ordinary drunk, but that's all the more reason for you to pull yourself together. You can't go running out of the room when something gives you a fright, and you -certainly- can't leave an ill man on the floor in a puddle of his own vomit.

"Now, I don't want to hear anything more about it. I want you to get yourself cleaned up, rinse that dress out as best you can, and fold it up. Wash up and get into a day dress. Be quick about it. I want you to take our guest into town, and while you're there, stop off at the sheriff's office - Doc Lowe should still be there - and send the Doc here to take a look at our ill gentleman. Sick people need doctors, not scared, crying girls. Take that soiled gown with you and drop it off at the dressmaker to see if she can get it cleaned up proper. Have her send the bill here. That clear?"

spectro spectro Bethari Bethari
 
Henrietta draped the pelisse over the balustrade, setting the bonnet on the nearest post, just in case Lizzy changed her mind. The miner was still on the floor, retching. Someone needed to go get help. She hurried down the steps and bolted through the saloon's swinging doors. She collided with a wall of flesh and was knocked flat on her rear. "There's a man in there," she said, reeling from the impact, "who requires urgent medical attention."

Hattie looked upwards, shielding her eyes from the blinding mid-morning sun. The wall of flesh was actually two men strolling side-by-side. The first one was a blond man who looked to be in his thirties. He was tan and reeked of whiskey. The other man must have been in his fifties, at the very least. His hair was mostly gray and he wore a sour expression typical of those who abandoned their youthful idealism long ago. Henrietta supposed he was the sort who looked odd smiling, due to the permanent frown lines that etched his face.

idalie idalie ReadingTheRunes ReadingTheRunes spectro spectro
 
((Sorreh brain been dead the whole day :closedeyescryingfrown:))

As Silas told him not to kill the men just yet, he placed his colt back in its holster. "Suit yeself. Still think we should kill em." He murmered, taking the food that the woman had given to them. It didn't take long for the whole plate to be polished off. Jericho then heard Silas talking about the Saloon later on, guiding him towards the station door so they could start getting rat arsed. "Well I might as well have guessed I would be paying." He sighed before chuckling lightly. "Why does an' ole' man have to pay for everyone's booze hm?" Jericho joked, once again patting his back firmly.

All was well- except for the dying men back in the station- until someone else burst through the saloon door. "What's it now?!" He yelled as they banged into them. The woman was yelling about someone collapsing and spewing his guts out. "The man is probably drunk as fuck. I say let him to his own devices." He nodded, turning his head to Silas. Jericho was apprehensive about the Silas 'go help the poor bugger' look. "Now don't you take Henrietta's side." He sighed before muttering curses under his breath. After knowing Silas for an aweful long time, he could predict what he was going to say. Well most of the time anyway.

idalie idalie Bethari Bethari
 
Within minutes, Midge had appeared on the stairs, and she was making her way towards to Lizzy. Lizzy looked down at the stomach bile on the hem of her dress and sighed. She always knew that whatever Midge said, however cruel or cold or sour, it would always be, in the end, the truth. And yet, Lizzy didn't want Midge to tell her to buck up. She had seen what she had seen and she didn't want anyone to rationalize it. She didn't want anyone to to tell her that it'd be fine because Lizzy knew that nothing was ever really fine. Life would always be a pile of horse shit.

Midge leaned over the railing and looked out into Blackwater; the people on the road and the horses lined up. Lizzy braced herself. " "You're right; he was no ordinary drunk," Midge started her speech, "But that's all the more reason for you to pull yourself together. You can't go running out of the room when something gives you a fright, and you -certainly- can't leave an ill man on the floor in a puddle of his own vomit." Lizzy tensed as Midge continued, rolling out words front right and center. And no matter how much Lizzy hated to admit it, her Mistress was right. She was always right.

As Midge finished her speech, Lizzy looked up at the sky, wiped any remaining tears away and nodded. She didn't say a word, she just nodded and she knew that Midge would know that Lizzy was silently thanking her. Although she still felt like shit, Lizzy knew she had to book herself up. She slowly swept around Midge and went back inside, to her room. She stood over her wash bowl and splashed her face, looking up and out of the window; at the Sheriff and the Doc approaching. She tried to smile, but her face just wouldn't obey.

* * *

In a fresh dress, Lizzy felt much better, she still couldn't get that thing- that man out of her head. However, she knew that she had to make sure that she looked okay, her main job was to make other people feel good, and so she had to have a certain amount of composure to do that. She looked at the vomit covered dress on the floor, where she had dropped it down. Midge had told her to take it to the dressmakers, but she didn't think that she could face wearing it again. Patting down her ruffles a little, she headed back out through the back entrance, not even caring if the guy was better or if he was out. At the bottom of the stairs, she turned right and saw Henrietta talking to the Doc and the Sheriff. Lizzy walked over to them, slowly and certainly without any energy. She managed to crack a slight smile as she met with them.

"Howdy," She positioned herself next to the lady and tried to look not-terrified, "The um, the man, the uh, sick man; he threw his guts up all o'er the saloon floor and his nose was bloody." She closed her eyes tight for a brief moment, "Sorry, it just, well it weren't pretty." She made an awkward smile. She looked at the Doc with half-pleading eyes. He had a kind face, and a look in his eye that told Lizzy that he was a good man. She thought the same of the Sheriff, although he was definitely not innocent, he wasn't a bad person. "I aint no professional, nor do I know what this guy might have- but I gotta say, that guy in there, he aint right. He looks like real bad." Lizzy stopped herself, realizing she sounded hysterical.

(sorry if there's mistakes, had no time to proof read!)
ReadingTheRunes ReadingTheRunes Bethari Bethari idalie idalie WordArtist WordArtist
 
(Sorry guys, I've been running a temperature. But I'm feelin' better, so I thought to finally get my lazy ass around to replyin'. :'))

SHERIFF SPURBECK
As they finished off the breakfast Betty delivered, leaving the sick man behind in the jail - Spurbeck and Lowe began to slink off towards the saloon together. Returning to haunt the poor building, as every man did. For there was little else to do in this hellish little town, but drink away your troubles and play a hand of poker with the soot-smothered miners. "For an old man, you got looked after pretty damn well by the army. So you get to buy. You ain't got long left either, one foot in the grave Jericho. Y'know, Good Samaritan shit." The Sheriff joked, aiming a crooked grin at his older counterpart.

What he didn't expect was the commotion that came with arriving on the doorstep, as a young woman came flying out to smack into him. Often he'd been in a few bar fights, broken them up or started them; however, the panic in the females voice indicated something different. Regaining his balance and placing his palms out in a calming fashion, he inclined his head. "Alright, hun, slow it down. We get a lotta drunks 'round here. Who knows what it could be, some of the guys get sick from all that coal." Silas reassured, reaching down to scoop Henrietta back up to her feet. With a polite brush down, to disperse the dust.

Glancing up again, Spurbeck sighed as another one of the saloon girls arrived at the side of the newcomer. Lizzy from what he could vaguely remember of his visits, nevertheless he sighed and motioned towards both. "Look, if you two are so worried about some idiot, then Jericho'll check on him." Giving a hard stare, he gave a sharp elbow to the old man's side. "Won't you Doc?" Pushing up the brim of his hat, Silas continued to rub his forehead in decision. "I'll move the bugger somewhere on his side, we'll let him get over it."

His icy eyes, rested upon Henrietta a moment. Brow creasing. "You ain't from here, are you? Ain't a miner's daughter, and certainly ain't a saloon girl. I'm Sheriff Spurbeck, this is Doc Lowe. Nice to have you in town, just be careful movin' around at night." With that he moved past Liz, resting his hand on her shoulder momentarily. "Is Midge inside?"

Bethari Bethari spectro spectro WordArtist WordArtist ReadingTheRunes ReadingTheRunes
 
Henrietta Nock

Henrietta took the Sheriff's outstretched hand, blushing. She must have looked a sight! She smoothed her skirts, hazarding a glance behind her. Thankfully, the seat of her dress wasn't dirt-stained. This is why ladies glide, not scamper, she thought, cursing her excitable nature. "Apologies," she said, "But I believe this man is far more ill than your average toper."

Lizzy drifted onto the veranda. She stood next to Hattie and told the Sheriff what had transpired. "It weren't pretty," she said.

Henrietta was grateful that Lizzy was there to back her up for several reasons, the least of which being that it made Hattie look less like a hysterical woman. Lizzy had seen what happened up close. She was scared, but still mustered up enough courage to put on a brave face and tell someone about it. That took guts.

"Look, if you two are so worried about some idiot, then Jericho'll check on him," the Sheriff said. "Won't you, Doc?"

The elder man balked. "Now don't you take Henrietta's side."

The Sheriff ignored the Doctor's protests, turning back to Henrietta. "Nice to have you in town," he said, "Just be careful movin' around at night." He addressed Lizzy. "Is Midge inside?" he asked.

Henrietta nodded, as if encouraging an answer from the showgirl. She chose to ignore the Sheriff's warning for the moment; there were more pressing matters at hand. "The man is this way," she said to Jericho. She ushered him inside.

spectro spectro WordArtist WordArtist ReadingTheRunes ReadingTheRunes idalie idalie
 
Lizzy watched as the Sheriff played the whole thing down, as she thought he would. Yet she couldn't blame him. She was surprised that even Henrietta had believed her, and she had only watched from afar, but she appreciated her support. Spurbeck dropped his hand down on Lizzy's shoulder and she shivered slightly, her skin still reeling from the slap she had recieved from the drunken man. Besides, this was the Sheriff. Lizzy had seen him in the saloon a couple of times, but he had never actually been a customer of Lizzy's. Perhaps Midge didn't trust her to do a good job for her favourite client, or maybe he just preferred blondes. Either way, Lizzy smiled a little, clasped her hands together and said, "O' course, last time I saw, she was upstairs, but she must'a moved around by now." She nodded and turned on her heels, heading directly into the saloon as Henrietta led the doc inside.

The sick man was sat on a bar stool, now, vomit plastering his long hair to his cheek. Lizzy didn't look at him for more than a second. She didn't even care if he was okay, and she felt awful for being so heartless. But her heart couldn't take looking at his face again. Keeping a long distance from the bar, she called over to Thomas, "Hey Tommy, ya seen Midge?" She spoke loudly over the chatter and jolly piano music. Waiting for a reply, she turned back the Sheriff, suddenly noticing how tall he was, now they were in a darker space and up close. "Ya want a drink?" She laughed, obviously knowing the answer.

Bethari Bethari ReadingTheRunes ReadingTheRunes - Mentioned
Shireling Shireling idalie idalie WordArtist WordArtist - Interacted
 
Thomas was cleaning the bar for the upteenth time that morning as he listened to someone hammer out a tone-deaf rendition of "The Rock of Ages" on the old stand-up piano. He glanced at the sick man, doubled over and making expressions of pain and displeasure. Unfortunately, he had no drug or tonic to give him, just watered down whiskey.

He was brought out of a daze by Lizzy, who inquired as to Midge's whereabouts before turning her attention to Sheriff Spurbeck. Thomas had never really liked the Sheriff, although he had never let Mr. Spurbeck know that. He had the idea that a lawman should be a paragon of virtue. Well, wasn't hardly anyone a paragon of virtue in the Territories, really.

"I saw here earlier, but I don't know where she is now." Was his simple reply to Lizzy.

spectro spectro
 
SHERIFF SPURBECK
The unease of Elizabeth was evident, although Spurbeck put it down mostly to the shock of the ill man who now appeared sorry for himself and sickening for something. Different from the hungering man in the jail cell. Yet he had little clue, other than a bad drinking trip. Medicine wasn't his forte after all. He could sew up a gash, pick out a bullet, but disease and viruses were beyond him. What counted to a man like him, was being able to shoot the other guy fast enough not to need stitches.

Following her into the saloon, in search of Marlene, the distance between them closed. Height becoming obvious, as the poor girl barely managed to reach the top of his shoulder. "You kiddin'? I'll have a double whisky, if I let myself get sober then It'll be one hell of a hangover." The Sheriff chuckled, looking over towards the barkeep momentarily before Liz. "But come on, darlin'. You seemed all shook up outside. Really think he was different from the other drunks? 'Cause I can sort him out for you girls if you want. We can take him back to the cells with us. I don't want no guys gettin' you scared. But I think Midge would have something to say about that, huh?"

WordArtist WordArtist spectro spectro Shireling Shireling
 
Last edited:
Midge was just coming back inside from the back as Spurbeck and Lowe were coming in the front. She leaned on the inner balcony's railing with one elbow, her hand propping her chin up with a coy expression on her face as she looked down at them from above. She seemed perfectly content to observe the commotion from there, letting the hem of her skirt swish across the balcony floor as she swiveled slightly back and forth with her elbow as her pivot. She waited until Silas was finished speaking before saying, "Yes, I might at that," with that coy smirk still lingering. "After all, if a drunk man wants to stay drunk, his place is at the bar, hm?"

She finally straightened a few moments after letting Spurbeck's eyes wander her wavering form, and she headed down the stairs to meet him on the ground floor, tucking her hand into the crook of Silas' elbow as she reached his side. "Let's let Doc take a look at the guy, hm? Maybe the coal's got to him after all, and maybe Doc could help." She leaned in a bit and said, in a quiet and sly tone, "Besides, who wants an old fuddy-duddy ruining our fun?"
 
SHERIFF SPURBECK
Looking up at where the familiar voice had emitted from, Silas couldn't help but crack a smile. "Any place with whisky is a good enough place to stay." He replied, head craned upward to have that longing yet intimate connection which transcended distance. Of course, Spurbeck was no foreigner to the place, nor the 'entertainments'. But Marlene Hopkins was a hurricane of a woman he was glad to let hang off his arm. Watching the creases of her skirt wrap and sway, fabric dancing to the simple movements upon her balcony.

As she descended from up on high, her hand tucking into his arm as Midge swept across the floor, Spurbeck happened to relish in the warmth of the saloon mistresses palm. The company who kept her sly, conniving ways - yet knowing what was beyond it. Even from the way she leant in, with the smell of signature perfume.

Chuckling to himself, Silas inclined his head toward her to crane down somewhat. Using the rough fingertips of his overworked hand to dance over the ones which remained soft and gloved. "Depends what kind of fun." The Sheriff teased, irises flickering up only for a moment to see the back of Jericho's head. Marlene was oft right in the cases of drunks, she dealt with them too often after all.

WordArtist WordArtist
 
Had Midge been any other woman, she'd have likely blushed at the sheriff's attentions. Midge, however, had no such grace; she was far too practiced and familiar with the job for that. She did, however, have the good sense to respond, "Why, Sheriff, what kind of fun have you in mind?" in that coy, teasing lilt of a voice that just begged for the answer she knew he wanted to give. After all, she always kept her personal bar stocked with his favorites.

In truth, Silas was the only regular she kept anymore. She had a few now-and-thens come around, and she had the occasional one-off with a man whose regular girl was unavailable for one reason or another, but most of her regulars had drifted toward her subordinates after she'd taken over, favoring the younger, more naive girls - and their lower prices - over maturity and experience . Midge didn't complain. It gave her more time for handling the business, and it let her be more attentive to what customers she did have... which usually meant higher tips.

Midge addressed Hattie and Lizzy in tandem, beckoning to the latter with a wave of her free hand. "Why don't you two go out for the day? Our dressmaker is excellent, and she always has some nice stuff out on display. Doc Lowe will take care of our sickly gentleman, and the other girls will take care of the saloon. You two make a day of it. Lizzy, you show her a good time, now, you hear?"

idalie idalie spectro spectro Bethari Bethari
 
HENRIETTA NOCK
"You needn't wait for me," Henrietta said to Lizzy. "I'll be out shortly. In the meantime, please, enjoy yourself. You've been through quite a shock." She handed Lizzy a modest reticule, just large enough to hold a coin purse (inside which was a quarter and two dimes) and a fan.

Henrietta turned her gaze to the sick man. She hated being a nuisance or getting in others' way, but she had to know what was wrong with the man. She was convinced that the man was no ordinary drunk; drunks don't usually vomit blood. She pitied him, in a way. What could cause a man to find himself in such a state? Was it poor breeding? The coal? An eldritch curse laid by pagan devils? No, no, she mustn't think like that. Superstitions have no place in natural philosophy and medicine.

"What do you think it is?" she whispered to the Doc.

ReadingTheRunes ReadingTheRunes spectro spectro WordArtist WordArtist
 
Lizzy smiled at the Sheriff's response; he was known for his alcoholic habits, but then again, so was everyone in Blackwater. Drinking was about the only thing that kept you at least half sane. Sort of. "Thanks, Tommy," She turned her head slightly, looking back at Thomas. The Sheriff continued, asking if the man really was more than just a drunk, "I'm sure of it, that man wasn't just drunk, he was, well, he was bleedin' and cryin' and his voice was-" Lizzy was interrupted as Midge wrapped her arm around the Sheriff's. Like usual, she had stepped in with her most cherished customer; or maybe the Sheriff was more than that to Midge? It certainly seemed like it. Lizzy just hoped that if there was something going on, that they'd make it known quick and that Spurbeck wouldn't break her heart. Her own parents had spent years and years playing flirt and pretending not to care and it almost ruined them. Besides, as much as Lizzy thought Midge could be cold hearted and cruel, she didn't want to see her Mistress, who had helped her so much over the past year, be let down any more than she already had.

Spurbeck seemed captured by everything about Midge, and Lizzy started to back away, slightly disheartened, still feeling like a helpless kid in a room full of adults. "O' course, Midge." Lizzy nodded, her long, dark eyelashes blinking slowly. She picked up her skirt with gloved hands and faced the Doc and Henrietta, ignoring the sick man behind them. The Doc was a man with a heck of a mustache, that was what Lizzy remembered about him. He seemed kind enough, but much like Spurbeck, he was grouchy and slightly unlawful. Henrietta pushed a small sack like-bag with a beautiful beaded pattern into her hand and it felt slightly heavy. Lizzy nodded, obliging. Even after Lizzy had made a fool of herself and had rejected her earlier gift, Henrietta was still being kind to her. Biting her lip gently, Lizzy strolled passed the Sheriff and Midge, trying not to look, and instead faced Thomas, giving him a kind smile. She stepped out of the saloon and into the mild sun. It was past noon and the sky was clear blue. Gently lowering herself down the wooden steps, Lizzy decided that she felt better. So much so, that she thought that she might visit home tomorrow, to cheer herself up. It had been a month or two since she had left the town to see her family, and she was due a visit. Slowly, taking in the heat rays and safety of her town, Lizzy headed for the dress makers, the sound of carriages and shouting all behind her.

WordArtist WordArtist idalie idalie Bethari Bethari Shireling Shireling - interacted
ReadingTheRunes ReadingTheRunes - mentioned
 
((:/:work again lol. So busy xD))

Jericho sighed as the sheriff told him to go help the man. "Fine but if he vomits on my shoes I will put a bullet in his head." He told everyone, walking into the Saloon. It didn't take long before he saw the man. He looked grey in complexion, not being able to stop vomiting. "Please stop vomiting. I need to grab a drink soon. At. This. Fucking. Saloon." Jericho's tone had a slight venomous side to it. He loved his drink and anything to postpone it was complete and utter murder. This saloon had to be one of his most favourite places too. That was along with his house and Silas' Sheriff department.

The man whom was throwing up started to crumple on the floor. He was just about to answer Doc. Lowe, but the man immediately continued to throw up. Jericho swore under his breath, turning to Henrietta to answer her question. Before that however, Lowe studied the man briefly. "He seems to be much worse than ill from alchohol poisoning. I can see some blood in his vomit. Possibly the plague?" He joked slightly, not particulary seeing anything like this for a while. "We should get him outta here. Silas come and help me put him with the other man in the cell. After that we can have a strong drink to forget all about this." Jericho sighed, imagining the taste of many strong whiskeys on the rocks. He got increasingly closer to the man, grabbing him by the arm to drag him to the jail cell. However, that was before the man vomited on his favourite shoes. "Son of a~!" He yelled. "You little fucker! My favourite boots!" With that he dropped the man, watching him crumple to the floor. Doc. Lowe pulled out his colt, aiming it to the man's head. "MY GODDAMN FAVOURITE SHOES." He cried, wanting to shoot the guy in the head.

idalie idalie Bethari Bethari
 
SHERIFF SPURBECK
Removing his hat, Silas opened his mouth with a flirtatious response till Jericho began angrily raving. Leaving the Sheriff disgruntled, and somewhat crestfallen. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against Midge's temple and patted her shoulder. "Hold on with that fun, before you have some poor souls brains to shovel up off your floor." Running his fingers through the thick mop of dirty blonde hair, bleached by the sun, Spurbeck readjusted his hat, pulling it on from the brim. "Lowe, don't you dare make this harder than it has to be. I should just take away your fuckin' doctorate man. Advertise for a new fuckin' doctor." He shouted across the room, marching over towards his colleague. Grabbing the older gentleman by the scruff of his neck to jolt Lowe back and smack the gun.

"Jericho, I am lenient with you. But might I remind, that this ain't a lawless town. You kill someone, and I'll have you hang. I don't care what you done for me. I care, that you're scarin' people." Spurbeck growled, a low threatening tone barely a rumble, which was hissed between them. "If I was a doctor I'd bless my lucky stars you eejit." Bending down, with impressive strength, Silas began to hoist the miner upwards. Grunting in exertion. "Y'know the rumours though, place is built over the old injuns ritual grounds. Watch for ghosts." The Sheriff mocked, dragging the sickly visitor with him. "We gon' have to use the fellas home, or your place Doc. One sick man in the jail is enough for me. I don't need it becomin' some kinda death trap. Betty is there too, and I wouldn't want to do that to the old bird."

Continuing to move the visitor back, he gave a half-hearted salute to Marlene. "Thanks for breakfast by the way, before I forget. And I suppose I'm gonna have to see you in the afternoon. Shame on me." Through the saloon doors, eventually came the shout "Jericho if you don't get his goddamn legs I'll show you how to lose your own"

WordArtist WordArtist ReadingTheRunes ReadingTheRunes @Anyoneelse
 
Last edited:
Midge fairly pouted as Spurbeck gave her his version of an apology in the form of a kiss to the temple. It wasn't often that Silas had a good opportunity to sport his responsible side, but she had to admit that he had one, even if he didn't use it much. At the moment, she found it disappointing.

She waited until Spurbeck was out of sight before putting on her best smile and moving off to entertain other guests. Even if her best customer wasn't around, she wasn't about to stop working. She found a rather large gentleman currently unoccupied by other girls and slid onto the stool beside him at the bar. "Hey, big fella," she cooed at him, leaning over the bar on her elbows and propping her head up on her hands. "How about you buy me a drink and tell me your troubles?"

In truth, she wasn't trying all that hard, but she was sure as heck going to make it look like she was. Motioning to Thomas, she said, "Drop a tankard over here, will ya? I think the gentleman here has a coin or two to spend on the good stuff!" Even as she waited for her answer, however, she glanced back at the swinging saloon doors and then at the clock. Time wasn't going to move fast enough.

idalie idalie Shireling Shireling
 
"Here, Midge." Thomas said, setting down a pint of beer after going and fetching a fresh case from the storeroom. He glanced between her and the overlarge man, turned his back and rolled his eyes. Once a prostitute, always a prostitute. It made him wonder how she even got on with it. Doin' it time after time with all sorts of strange men. Well, mostly Spurbeck, you had to admit.

"Midge, I'm gonna take a break." He said, and without waiting for a response he had taken off his smock, folded it, laid it down on the counter, and exited out the back door.

Around the back of the saloon, Thomas fished in his pocket and took out a metal tin full of hand-rolled cigarettes. He lit one on a nearby lantern and placed it in his mouth as he strolled down the dirt path from the saloon through scraggly corn fields to the church.

It wasn't a Sunday, so the place was mostly deserted. Even on a Sunday it was half empty. He went around the side to the graveyard, mostly wooden crosses in front of graves but there was one stone marker that indicated the grave of the town's founder. Beside it, a small wooden bench. He sat down to smoke, and as he did so he noticed the peculiar meanderings of the blackbirds in the dull grey sky as the weather had grown overcast. He had heard about blackbirds flying so thick in the sky in Indiana that you could fire a gun blindly in the air and have enough for ten blackbird pies. But that was just rubbish.
 
When the Sheriff and Doc had carted the sick man away, Henrietta donned her bonnet and stepped out into the midday sun. Lizzy was nowhere to be seen. I do hope she is enjoying herself, Hattie thought. Although she was glad that the showgirl was out of that dingy saloon for once, she lamented sending away her guide. Finding my way around ought not to be too difficult in a town this size, she thought. She smiled; this would be an adventure. Besides, it wasn't like there was anything else to do.

spectro spectro Shireling Shireling idalie idalie @Sir Jake
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top