<hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/a/ac/600full-kenneth-branagh.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Tommy Flanagan (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=200832.msg9819558#msg9819558)<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>None<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 20, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>afternoon<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Babel's Tower, Private Room<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Walker, CLOSED<br/><hr/><br/><br/>The men who owed him wouldn't have sent an Injun, Tommy reasoned. Not just one, at least, his ego added. Which meant this was new trouble. He figured he had enough space at the bottom of his ledger of worries to squeeze in another entry or two.<br/><br/>"Well, that's a relief, because I just got finished fucking like six or seven Chinamen, so I'm a right bit chafed. If you just want to talk, I guess that's on the house." Tommy retreated back to his desk chair, lowering the gun and setting it on the surface in front of him. He gestured toward the bed, the only other place to sit in the room, and motioned for Walker to close the door behind him. Almost automatically he began rolling another cigarette, keeping his hands busy with the well-practiced motions.<br/><br/>"I'm Tommy Flanagan. I'll say right off the starter's block that I don't know your people's ways too well. If you smoke I'd be happy to roll you one here, but I've got no drink to offer. Now I'm going to go out on a limb and presume that you folks don't have a piano out in that tent city of yours that needs playing badly, so that narrows down the reasons you might have come to see me quite a bit. How about you narrow things down just a little further, chief?"<br/><br/><br/>