<hr/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/a16483c2858f862945634d46b9ad41b9/tumblr_mh480oybdg1r64urio1_500.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Jaelyn Scot-Jones<br/><br/><strong>Faction:</strong>()<br/><br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 11th, 1876<br/><br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>afternoon<br/><br/><strong>Location:</strong>outside Babel's Tower<br/><br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>open, noting Matthew & Mayor, leaving general area of Babel's Tower<br/><br/><hr/><br/><br/>Some how she'd managed to plunk herself right in a hotspot.  It was easy enough to flow so far with the eager crowd, only to have the sights beyond the threshold stop her short.  Standing there, Jaelyn's blush only deepened with each passing moment.  Not only had a fine looking gentleman pointedly smiled at her before easily crossing over the boundary of where no good Christian would want to find her or himself, but she'd been called a jackanapes for foolishly placing herself in such proximity!  And that by a woman who could be nothing but a highfaluting floozy, she assumed in a rare channeled flash of the Reverend Grimme.  Her nose wrinkled, displeased on all accounts as there was no pleasure in finding agreement with a man so evil.  But then who else would saunter into such an establishment as if they owned<strong>it</strong>along with the rest of the world?<br/><br/>At any rate, her back stiffened and she moved several steps away, down off the wrap around boardwalk, only to pause, as if waiting.  She could hear the raucous free for all inside Babel's Tower - that din would carry some distance, she imagined - while just outside the door, there was a trail weary (a keen eye took in the film of dust no mere hat beating to dislodge) man speaking with the mayor.  It was the mayor who was the man she ought to speak with she supposed.  It had been a week since her father's store had been open and Mr ___ from the bank hinted heavily that she was losing good money every second of that week.  Not that she cared so much for money,  though not being without it would be a blessing beyond all her imaginings, but that morning she'd made up her mind to give it a real go here in Gomorra.<br/><br/>Watching the two men, trying not to eavesdrop, she guessed he was a soldier.  Not that she'd seen many of those in Lost Angels, but there was an air about the man that left little doubt, and there was the hat.  He seemed as unwilling as she was to go inside, curious behavior for a man in a sin-filled town such as this, she thought.  Jaelyn unconsciously fingered the ring on the chain around her neck, its charms glinting under the glaring afternoon sun and wondered if her father frequented the likes of such places<br/><br/>It was a house of ill repute, as her previous untenable spot had given a perfect view of the goings on inside.  Everything seemed innocent enough but there was a bawdiness to the women that was unmistakable.  As well and a vague familiarity about some of the faces.  Even the less bawdy women either showed a scandalous amount of skin or dressed in pants like a man.  Pants!  The growing discomfort brought on by a too recent memory of a passing sea of faces made Jae want to turn tail and run.  She refrained from doing that exactly but managed a goodly pace in the direction of Soddom.