<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/c/c0/Ginny_Avatar-01.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Virginia 'Ginny' Mary Lou Whateley<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>Whateley Family<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 3rd, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Morning<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Casino Morongo<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Matthew Cuthbert, Christian "Spooky" Specter, Deacon Sloane, Open<br/><hr/><br/>At Spooky's words about being no match for her when it came to cards, there was a fluttering of her eyelashes at him.<strong> "Why, good'suh!  Ah have no idea whatever yuh're speakin' about!"</strong>Her voice was silky smooth even as she dealt out the first row of cards, five in all to everyone gathered at the table, herself, Spooky, Cuthbert, and a few locals that enjoyed the game.<strong>"Ain't no sharks 'ere.  Least none that ah kin see.  Jist a innocent lady among you boys." </strong>She let those green eyes trace him warmly.<strong>"'Sides, ah think yur sellin' yurself short.  That be a mighty mean poker face yuh got,"</strong>she commented about Spooky's expressionless face and stare.<br/><br/>That much was true.  It would be damn hard to get anything from his face.  Though most experts could tell from other non-verbal cues besides the face when a man was bluffing or not.  Still, Ginny had long ago learned her lesson about greed.  People got mighty funny when you were robbing them blind of every single red cent they owned.  And even if a man thought he could take the loss, no one in her experience had been much of a gracious loser when it came to cards.<br/><br/>And from Spooky's wandering gaze, he could see the Rupertus pepperbox dangling from her waist.  A clear warning in some ways though to Spooky's experienced eye, a few things were obvious.  One, the pistol was of a fine make, far above in quality compared to a normal gun.  Second, it looked so polished and so new, he had to wonder if Ginny actually ever drew it out of the holster for more than to give to the local gunsmith for cleaning and maintenance.  It seemed like such a shame to waste money on a gun like that and never use it.  And lastly, how the young Whateley wore it across her waist told him she had little idea what she was doing if it ever came to quick-draw contest.  Oh sure, she had it tilted in a way so her hand could easily reach it, but she hadn't taken into account her holster and how the belt might twist as she would try and free it up.  Most likely, she'd be blown to smithereens before she managed to get it half out in a gun fight.<br/><br/>And at Matthew Cuthbert's introduction, Ginny's Whateley green eyes twinkled back as she flirted with him a bit.  Sending those subtle, non-verbal cues of interest.  After all, he was a real cute-pie and she could appreciate that.<strong> "Please.  Ah'm jist Ginny here.  Ain't no Miss." </strong>As she flipped him the cards, she was already taking stock of his ability.  And her eyes widened fractionally as how easily and at the same time, guarded he snapped them up with minimal motion.  No information to be found there.<strong> "Ah've also been hearin' stories, Mr. Cuthbert.  So ah'm lookin' forward to a fun game with yuh."</strong>Her smile was sweet, but there was a definite challenge inherent.  Already, it was obvious that she wanted to get into a few one-on-one battles with him when others folded out of a pot.<br/><br/>For pride, of course. She didn't want to be giving up her reputation as one of the best hands in Gomorra so easily.<br/><br/>And of course, Ginny tilted her head as she plucked a stack of coins, a mixture of quarter eagles and silver dollars and slide them in Spooky's direction.  "<strong>Thar yuh go,"</strong>she commented, spotting him the twenty dollar credit she had promised.  Then, casually she reached in her pouch and pulled forth a few stacks of golden eagles.  Freshly minted from the bank as she piled them high around her at the table.  Surrounded by a fortune most people could never hope to see in a lifetime.<br/><br/>And as the owner, Mr. Sloane  shot the shit with Spooky from afar, not moving from his spot at the bar counter, Ginny let out a mock gasp of shock as she raised her fingers to her mouth as if she were horrified.  Which she wasn't.<strong>"Such words, Mistuh Sloane!  Whatever will the children think?  And my virgin ears!  Ah'll have'tah go to confessional later today!"</strong>The words were said without any rancor as Ginny played up her role as an innocent damsel who was just looking to have a good time.  Though her and Mr. Sloane, both knew that the young Whateley was anything from that.  After all, everyone had a few skeletons in their closet that they'd like to keep buried and she was no exception in this case.<br/><br/>It ran in her blood and all that.<br/><br/>Though to keep any sting out of her words and to keep from offending the owner of the Casino in which she had such a good reputation, Ginny pulled forth a cigar box that she had acquired with her own personal funds from the London Royal Apothecary and the lovely Lady Boyle, who was such a dear.  It was Sloane's personal favorite.  The H. Upmanns, of the finest make.  And opening the box, she proffered one to Sloane's direction in a show of deference and recognition of his own status here in the Casino Morongo.<strong>"Now, wouldn't yuh like tah have one?  Ah know thar yur favorite,"</strong>Her tone was wheeling, but she kept it very sweet and very innocent.  It was once again subtle, a woman's way of manipulation to get a man to do what she wanted rather than outright forcing him to.  Though Ginny wasn't foolish enough to believe she could really control Deacon Sloane.  After all, he was literally the closest thing to God in a place like this and it did behoove little worshipers like Ginny to stay on his good side by giving a little sacrifice here and there in remembrance to him.<br/><br/>And who said you never learned a thing at church?