<hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/f2/Beardycox.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Avery Burnham<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>Solomon, Jaelyn, Letty, Walter, any others mentioned in passing; Open<br/><hr/><br/><br/>Avery Burnham was late for the ribbon cutting ceremony although that wasn't exactly by accident.  While the speeches were being made, he'd been gazing at the tops of his shoes as they sat propped on his desk, listening to the growing din outside while thinking about his new office.  It was not a bad little setup, all considered, when you factored in the limitations of this frontier backwater and his own modest pocketbook.  It was essentially bought by buffalo hides, so it was only fitting he'd hung the head of one of the filthy creatures on the wall alongside the Sharps rifle that had brought it down.  He thought it a rustic touch, the sort of thing that might intrigue these people.  He imagined them taking one look at him, hearing the accent, and asking how he'd come by it, or maybe waggishly inquiring where he'd bought it from, and then he could tell them coolly that he'd shot and skinned it himself, along with several others over the course of one long summer.  Him and his old military mates and one great big gory mess out on the American plains.<br/><br/>Another way of saying not such a tinhorn as he looked.  The rest of the sparse wall space was filled with framed cutouts of London newspaper articles in which his name had appeared alongside all sorts of heady accolades.<em>Kidnapping Case Solved.  Pride of Scotland Yard.  The Model Modern Detective.</em>It all sounded very nice, even now.  He very likely hadn't appreciated it enough at the time.  Astounding how people could sing your praises and shake your hand one day, and then the next…well… A new town, a new start.  He'd even added a painting of the still relatively recent Elizabeth Tower as an extra touch of exoticism to impress the yokels.<br/><br/>Judging just enough time had passed to avoid being jostled by whiskey-maddened yanks, he dropped his feet down and grabbed his hat from the rack, wiping off a few mites of dust before settling it on his head.  It was only a short walk to Babel's Tower and the Englishman cut a rather fine figure as he casually made his way down the dusty street, lean and dapper in a dark brown suit, purple paisley patterned vest, and black felt bowler.  Avery was not the only one still outside of course, people were continuing to file in and the mayor himself -- someone had been good enough to point him out to Avery a few weeks past -- was standing under the porch, currently being addressed by some haggard looking fellow in a fine suit.  Former military, he could tell by the look of him, just in the way he held himself.  He knew the type.  His father had been one and had a similar way about him.  He might have had it himself if he'd stayed with it, but the service wasn't the life for him.<br/><br/>A thin nervous woman in a rather somber dress stood hesitating by the door and he had to step around her to ascend the steps.  "Pardon me, miss," he said in a friendly genteel voice, flashing the politest of smiles over his shoulder in passing.  That smile lingered as he nodded to the man who must be the proprietor.  "It looks to be a wonderful turnout, sir.  Congratulations."  Of course it was not hard to turn people out when you were giving away free liquor.  Avery had pegged the man as a possible client in the future though, and it did not hurt to be social now.  Things were always going missing in casinos and brothels after all, not least of all the girls, and calling the law was rarely the first resort for such establishments.   He had even considered printing up visiting cards as he'd seen them doing in New York City, and passing them out, but that seemed tacky and desperate.  He had to let the first client come to him naturally.  In the meantime, they could discuss the peculiar foreigner amongst themselves, until someone finally got the itch to test him out.<br/><br/>And then of course he would merely have to succeed beyond all expectations.  His speciality.<br/><br/>An expression of vague distaste passed over Avery's face as he entered the hotel foyer.  It was packed and already smelling faintly of cigar smoke, cheap spirits, and sweaty bodies pressed too closely together.  He might have skipped this opening but it was good to be seen.  Plus all the other gaming tables in town would likely be dead tonight.  He had to do something to occupy his idle time and the less of it he spent in Soddom the better.<br/><br/>Judging the Mexican girl in the rough spun dress and dusty Stetson slightly less likely to elbow him in the ribs than the others gathered around the bar, he pressed up to the counter where she was standing.  "Brandy, please, if you'd be so kind," he called to the harried servers, having to repeat himself at least twice more before someone finally plunked a glass down in front of him.  He upended it and then smiled at the Mex.  "Cheers."  Elbows on the counter, he turned to survey the rest of the room, briefly catching the eye of some ugly bludger in the corner staring daggers at him and every other patron walking in.  Something about the man reminded him vaguely of home, the East End dosshouses specifically, but then they made that sort everywhere.  The American West in particular seemed to suffer from an overly generous supply.<br/><br/>"Lovely gathering," he said blandly to no one in particular, watching the beaded curtains part as men and women slipped back and forth between the gambling rooms.  He'd give it awhile before he joined in.  The more his opponents drank, the better he played, he'd often found.   In the meantime he'd simply observe.  He needed to learn as much about these people as could as quickly as he could.  This wasn't London after all.  This was Gomorra, and every town had at its own quirks and style, its own mysteries to unlock…<br/>