<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://gunsofold.com/marshal_badge_silver_balltip.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 3rd, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Afternoon, closer to evening<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Den of Eastern Delights<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Open, Jia Li, Li-Li,<br/><hr/><div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/d1/Mrlee.png)</div>Mr. Lee watched her reaction to the interior of the Den of Eastern Delights, noting the revulsion she had difficulty hiding, and gave a small, dark smile.  He traced over her features thoughtfully, possibly considering the law dog’s offer from outside, and then  returning his focus to her face.<br/><br/>Behind him was a long table – it was hidden in the backroom, but it was padded, for someone to lay out on, and there were soft leather manacles at the corners of the table.  The sides near the head of the table had been stained by vomit – and in the center of the table there was a dark stain that reeked vaguely of feces.  On a small table nearby was an opium hookah – although the water visible through the glass chamber had a greenish tinge.<br/><br/>“I doubt very much you are nobody.  There are a handful of ‘Orientals’ in all the West who can speak without an accent.  Few of those who can ever leave Shan Fan.”  His curiosity was certainly aroused, and he reached forward, lifting her chin slightly, his eyes considering.  “Or… half-Oriental… “ he noted.  His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.<br/><br/>“A message.  Yes.  It might be possible I can do what you ask.  If I could, what would the message be?”<br/>