<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 room was far from the finest in Babel's Tower, suitable for the hired help, not paying guests. It had all of the amenities that Tommy required, though, now that he'd had a chance to work on it a bit. A brand new building didn't come with too many loose floorboards to hide things under and the second floor window originally held nothing but a straight drop down to the alleyway below. Both deficits had been remedied with a crowbar and a little elbow grease. The footlocker at the foot of the bed held the bulk of Tommy's possessions save for the wide variety of clothing stuffed into the small wardrobe.<br/><br/>Tommy Flanagan sat at the small writing desk shuffling a deck of cards. He'd rearranged the furniture so that his back faced a wall and the small degree of extra comfort was worth making the room feel even more crowded than it was. Skillfully he dealt the cards into four piles, dealing a solitaire variant he'd been playing with in his spare time. Anything to keep his mind off his troubles. Well, anything but drink. Anything but drink and women. Anything but drink, women, church, confiding in another person or leaving Gomorra. Come to think of it, Tommy thought, his methods of dealing with trouble were sorely outweighed by the troubles to be found in this quaint little Murderville.<br/><br/>He had set the cards down and was lighting yet another handrolled cigarette when he heard the knock on the door. He wasn't expecting anyone, though it was always possible he was needed upstairs. It wouldn't do to get too paranoid, so he merely picked up his Colt from the nightstand. From the weight he could tell it was fully loaded. He wouldn't make that mistake again any time soon.<br/><br/>The door opened a few inches, hiding his gun hand from view. Tommy's expression of surprise was genuine when he saw who stood in the hall. He was almost entirely certain that he had no axe to grind with the Injuns. Then again he didn't have much traffick with them either. They had their own way of looking at the world that didn't have much to do with his.<br/><br/>"Evening, stranger. I expect you just might have the wrong room. Assuming there's a woman here who'll take your money, they'll be on down the hall a ways."