<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v622/Jagwaar/Sloane5_zpsfbdee107.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Deacon Sloane<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>Unknown<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 3, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Early evening<br/><strong>Location:</strong>In front of the Casino Morongo, Main Street<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Marguerite, Open<br/><hr/><br/>With the town Brahmins locked up inside the Town Hall there was nothing left to do for the remainder of Gomorra’s citizens but to go about their business until such time as a royal proclamation was made.  Sloane was no different, and after a decent handful of hours sleep, topped off with being sucked off by one of his most talented offerings, he was ready for the first round of the evening’s clientele. Already, the Casino floor was bustling, and if he was any judge of these things – and he was – it looked to be a good evening’s business.  It seemed that murder had heated up the blood of not a few among the townfolk, and they were eager to blow off a little steam.  Sloane was more than willing to oblige by indulging their various needs, carnal or otherwise.<br/><br/>It was curiosity that had Sloane outside the main doors of the casino, rather than any need to drive commerce inside, along with the desire to indulge himself in a one of the fine Cuban cigars he kept stocked for his special clients, of which he chief.  Putting match to the rough wood of the building, he struck a flame and brought it to the tip of the cigar, puffing several times before tossing the spent match aside.  Inhaling deeply until the end glowed like an eye in the disappearing light, he let the smoke slowly spill out of his nose and mouth to wreath about his head as he cast his gaze across the street, carefully eying the passing crowd as they head out for the evening or made their way home after a hard day’s work.  That was when he spied her.<br/><br/>Sloane made it his business to know who came and went in Gomorra, but the pretty brunette in an obviously borrowed dress that cautiously sidestepped the Casino’s porch in favor of the dust and shit of the street was a new commodity. Interest piqued, he watched, puffing on the cigar, as she stopped dead in the street, seemed to consider her options, and then turned right around, as if looking to go back the way she came.  Stepping forward, Sloane came down the stairs of the Casino, halting on the bottom step with one thumb hooked into the pocket of his vest.<br/><br/>“You lost, darlin’?” he asked, giving the brunette a careful once over as he took another drag on the cigar.  “If you’re new in town, I’d suggest you’d do well to stay in after dark …at least until you get your bearings, that is.  Gomorra’s a dangerous place, ‘specially with our sheriff recently getting himself deceased.”  He paused, blowing out a plume of smoke.  “Murderer’s still out there, somewhere.”  He gestured with the cigar, indicating the surrounding town.  “Best be cautious.”<br/>