<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>Evening (?)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Babel's Tower<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Letty; Closed (exiting scene)<br/><hr/><br/><br/>Avery was not a man adverse to spectacle.  One did not dress in fine suits in a town full of rugged miners, the dirt on them often so thick you could chip it off like plaster of Paris, if a person simply wanted to blend into the background.  Decorating his office walls with framed articles of himself had not made him blush, and he relished those moments when an audience hung on his words.  Nevertheless, he preferred those spectacles to be of his own creation.  So while Letty had swayed in her seat, loudly singing along with the music and drawing more than a few curious glances, he'd poured himself a shot of the paint peeler they'd mislabeled whiskey and downed it quickly.  "Yes.  Doo-dah it is…"  All the live long day… and getting longer by the minute it seemed to him.<br/><br/>When it came time to leave, Letty surprised him by rising up out of her chair with something very near to grace as she took his offered hand.  It almost seemed things were going to go simply, but just as quick she tried to pull it back, a chagrined expression registering in the dark pools of her eyes.  He kept a firm grip, smiling politely once again at her words, not truly understanding the source of them.  "Sticky, I suppose, but then so are mine.  You needn't worry." Avery then collected his hat from the table, propping it on his head before grabbing her dusty Stetson.  Rather than risk her dropping it again, he placed it on Letty himself, adjusting the brim ever so slightly.  "There.  All set.  Off we go then."<br/><br/>They jostled their way through the crowd, the last few rounds of free drinks going out as the woman on stage started another slow enchanting number.  He almost regretted not getting the chance to hear her full set.  She had evident talent.  It made him wonder how she'd ended up here though.  Gomorra was the end of the tracks as far as he was concerned.  You didn't come here to make your life, you came here to forget it.<br/><br/>Outside there was still a small clot of souls gathered around Babel's porch, discussing the shooting, debating its merits as a proper duel and whether they'd been deprived the entertainment of a just hanging by the sheriff.  The body was already gone though, carted off, and the man's only other remains, the blood he'd spilled on the dirt, was already being raked away by an industrious shop keep.  Avery turned his head from the sight and led Letty on up the street, towards Ballot Boulevard and where he thought he might find Nathan Hunter's home.<br/><br/>[continued in Home Sweet Home]