<hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/f2/Beardycox.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Avery Burnam<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>Law Dogs (1)<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 11th, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Afternoon<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Babel’s Tower<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Letty, Corky, noticing Bella; Open<br/><hr/><br/>"Yes, making friends…" Avery answered somewhat belatedly and in a decidedly dry tone of voice.  He wondered if there was some irony in the fact he was seated in a place called Babel's Tower yet couldn't understand half of what was being said around him.  Perhaps the Lord had already smited the lot of them.  Probably on account of all the whoring and drinking going on.  He never was any fun to invite to parties.<br/><br/>Avery didn't necessarily need to understand Letty's slurred words to feel he'd gotten the essence of what she was communicating to him.  The way she was batting her lashes was probably a universal language, and the words 'handsome devil' were rather hard to confuse.  He was very nearly tempted too.  Under the rough spun dress and inebriated words was an undoubtedly attractive young woman, and the last month spent here in Gomorra had been a particularly dry one for him.  There were whores aplenty available of course, but the Englishman was not especially fond of paying for it -- that could end up hurting more than your pride if you picked the wrong one -- and until he started getting paying clients for his agency, money was rather too tight.<br/><br/>He'd already taken the high road anyways, and Avery was rarely one to switch horses.  He believed in seeing a thing through to the end.  Besides that Letty had somehow managed to arouse his sympathy, something that happened from time to time, and was best to humor when not in the middle of a job where such mushy sentiment was apt to cause headaches.  It was clear to him she was suffering from a broken heart and severe lack of judgment, even if he couldn't decipher the exact details.  The romantic in him could appreciate the former, and bitter experience had left him with an all too ready understanding of the latter.<br/><br/>"I'm sure she'd rather avoid the drunk tank, Miss Hendricks.  Hardly the place for a lady to wake up is it?  And by the look of this room, you'll have need of that space before the night's over."  Reaching down, Avery rescued Letty's hat from the floor, dusting it off on his knee.  A puff of white erupted at the first slap, leaving a light coat of trail dust all over his nice fresh trousers.  Perhaps he should have listened to what she was mumbling about the horses, after all.  "All this charity has gone to my head it seems.  I'll pay for a room if you can point me to one that doesn't double as a crib-house.  I'd offer her use of my office's bench but it lacks proper cushions and I don't suspect that would do much for her reputation either."<br/><br/>While they debated Letty's lodgings for the night -- likely without much sensible input from the woman in question -- music suddenly wafted over the front room, somehow managing to break through the din and even quiet some of the rowdy crowd.  That quite possibly had more to do with the woman singing it than any collective love of song among the patrons though.  She was an undeniable beauty and he found himself watching her move gracefully about the stage for a long moment, admiring her clear and pretty voice as it rose above the background noise of clinking glasses and clattering knives.<br/><br/>"Or I could try to get you back to this…what was it?  Gates Ranch?  So long as you can still sit a horse,"  he finally continued, eyeing Letty skeptically, barely even able to sit a chair by looks of her.  "Probably not the best idea I've had tonight, actually…"