<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/0e/Corky.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Cordelia “Corky” Hendricks<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>Law Dogs<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 11th, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Afternoon<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Babel’s Tower, in a corner away from the bar.<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Open, Walter<br/><hr/><br/>She considered him quizzically, as he offered his advice, his very slight smile making hers glow enough it was a wonder why the darkened corner didn’t light.  “A taste fer it?  Why’d anyone ever<em>want</em>to get a taste fer it?”  She wrinkled her nose, brushing her brood-defying pigtails back from her shoulders again.  Still, she had a habit of minding her elders, so she took the glass back, trying for a smaller sip.  Her nose still wrinkled, and she still made an ‘eccch’ face at the taste, but she at least managed not to fire it back into the glass again.  It simply seemed beyond her to be suspicious of him - something about her nature tended to make even the most intemperate devils milder in her presence.<br/><br/>“Mmm…” she said, at his question, meeting his eyes without actually challenging them.  It was the curious gaze of a child, not the slight struggle for dominance of a predator.  “There was a feller outside looking for you.  Scooter?  The big tall feller with brains like rocks,” she clarified.  Scooter was a foreman in Sweetrock - when he bothered to attend his dayjob - but it was purely by virtue of his intimidating size and muscle.  He was a giant of a man - but no one turned to him for thinking.  “He wanted to speak to you, but didn’t want no fellers watching the two of y’all cahootin’.”<br/><br/>She considered the glass again.  “Didn’t know as he was hurried, or nothin’ but he was hanging ‘round back in the alley behind the Tower.”  She paused, and then asked a spritely question.  “So whut’s a Babel?”