<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/70/Alexworkingdoomtown.png)</div><br/><br/><hr/>Name: Alexander Valentine<br/>Faction: None<br/>Date: April 24th, 1876<br/>Time of Day: Late Evening<br/>Location: New Moon Saloon<br/>Tagged: Annabel Montgomery [Closed]<br/><hr/><br/><br/><br/>Darkness blanketed Gomorra tonight as the moon stayed hidden in the sky, which meant that Alex had trouble making his way from his shop at the outskirts of the city to the - amusingly enough - New Moon Saloon. While he wasn't a superstitious man by any measure, it didn't stop him from wondering if he was inviting bad luck by visiting such a place on a night like tonight. He noted that a few older men were squabbling about it when he entered as well, but he paid them little mind after his initial observation and scanned the area for a place to seat. It took him longer than he would have liked, but there was little point in griping about  it on account of the place being packed. The New Moon Saloon was one of the more affordable places in town and the stuff they sold, while not great, wasn't too bad either. So it was only reasonable that they seemed to make good business even if more than a handful of them were drunks and old leeches.<br/><br/>Once Alex was finally settled on his seat at the counter, he flagged down one of the barmaids so he could order his drink and pulled out a small leather-bound journal from his work pants to sketch in while he waited. He figured it would take some time before he got any service - one of the downfalls of going out on a busy night - but he was in no real rush. Well, that wasn't true. The trip back home would only get increasingly more difficult the longer he stayed there tonight and the more he had to drink, but the man had more than earned the night off after toiling around in his workshop for a better part of the day. If that meant going home piss drunk and stumbling around in the night, then so be it. Unless, of course, he just got a room at a cheap inn for the night. While he knew he could handle the drunken stumbling, he wasn't very confidant that he could combat a flight of stairs while inebriated without<em>some</em>assistance.<br/><br/>Most of the night seemed to pass (or drag on, rather) without incident, but it wasn't busy night until the sound of breaking glass cut through the rabble of the saloon. The cacophony ceased for nothing more than a long moment as most heads turned to investigate the noise, but like guppies in a glass bowl of water, the crowd rapidly lost interest and returned to what they were originally doing. Aside from Alex, of course. His light blue eyes stayed focused on the group of men that were centered around the source of the momentary interruption, the tip of his charcoal pencil pressed harshly against the piece of parchment he was sketching on and marred the image slightly. He hadn't noticed until he turned back to the sketch, at which he frowned and flipped to the other side before looking back at the group.<br/><br/>The men in question had lewd looks on their faces as they harassed the staff, but it was too loud in the saloon and they were too far away for Alex to even make out anything that they said. One man - perhaps the head of the bunch - had black hair and reminded him of a gorilla he saw once in a New York zoo that he took Annette too when she was younger, while another was balding, hunched over and possessed a sharply hooked nose and an almost  nonexistent chin. Alex likened him to the vultures that circled high overhead the mesas whenever there was a carrion feast to be had. The last had scrunched up features, beady eyes, a nub of a nose and a slight overbite that made Alex think of him as a rat. Alex smirked to himself as he half-turned on the barstool so that he could draw them as the animals they reminded him of, but made sure to not focus on them in case they noticed and came over to start something with him as well. While he was already on his third -almost fourth since it was almost empty - mug of alcohol, he was still sober enough to know that no good would come from getting too involved with them. Probably. Things could change that of course, and alcohol was one of those things.