Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Ciosa on 08-03-2013, 12:08:06</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ciosa</strong> on <strong>08-03-2013, 12:08:06</strong>
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				<hr><div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/e6/Reloadedbanner.png)</div><hr><br><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Buyer Beware</span></strong></div><br><div align="center">This thread is for any roleplaying which occurs inside a PC or NPC run shop.&nbsp; Please use the Tagging Header listed below.</div><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Doomtown Tagging Header</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div class="codeheader">Code: <a href="javascript:void(0);" onclick="return smfSelectText(this);" class="codeoperation">[Select]</a></div><pre style="margin: 0; padding: 0;"><code class="bbc_code">[hr]<br>[floatleft][IMG height=200 padding=8]&lt;Link to your character's picture&gt;[/IMG][/floatleft] <br>[b]Name:[/b] <br>[b]Faction:[/b] (Unknown, or the associated faction rank.&nbsp; If faction rank is less than three, it is not required to note.)<br>[b]Date:[/b]<br>[b]Time of Day:[/b] (morning, noon, afternoon.&nbsp; Please avoid precise timing.)<br>[b]Location:[/b] <br>[b]Tagged:[/b] <br>[hr] </code></pre></div></div><hr><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Shops around Gomorra</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Abbey's Weapons Locker</div><div class="spoiler_body"> <br><strong>Owner:</strong>&nbsp; Broden Bagley<br><strong>Operator:</strong>&nbsp; Abbey Bagley<br><strong>Quality:</strong>&nbsp; El Cheapo - Average<br><strong>Description:</strong>&nbsp; &nbsp; Abbeys Weapons Locker caters to those that don't have much in the way of money but still need to get their hands on something to hurt others with.&nbsp; She sells guns, knives, swords, throwing weapons, bows and several other random weapons.&nbsp; While her store can't compete with the Weaponsmith for sheer quality, the variety of options available and the prices bring people in frequently.&nbsp; The outside of the shop is a little rundown as, while the family has several businesses and could probably afford to make it nicer, the ideal shopper isn't overly high class.</div></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">*Agatha's Occidental Delights*</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div align="center">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/a/ae/Occidental-banner.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/archive/9/93/20130302023536%21Steampunk_Shop.jpg)</div><strong>Owner:</strong> Agatha Dunwich<br><strong>Operator:</strong> Maria Campos<br><strong>Range of Quality:</strong> Average, Fine, Extraordinary and Madness!<br><strong>Description:&nbsp; </strong>Agatha’s Occidental Delights is known throughout Gomorra as the place to go for outstanding clockwork gadgets and affordable mad science marvels.&nbsp; Agatha’s does not known to build those for the right price, it is a shop intended to make the harsh life in the maze a little easier.&nbsp; Agatha’s has a large selection of watches, clocks, portable freezinators for keeping water and food (and beer) cool and safe from spoiling, motorized hand fans, sun-activated shadinator spectacles and much, much more.&nbsp; &nbsp;There are rumors of special delights that Agatha sells as well, toys of an adult nature for adding pleasure and adventure to more intimate entertainments.<br><br>Agatha’s Occidental Delights is located sandwiched between other shops along the main street in Gomorra.&nbsp; It is a modest sized shop with a large window that displays some of Agatha’s more eye catching wares.&nbsp; A string of copper bells announce any new customers entering the establishment.&nbsp; The shop consists of the showroom floor that is packed with wondrous items like those out of Smith &amp; Robards.&nbsp; The packed shelves of whirling and chiming gizmos can give the shop a buzzing, jumbled feel but all of the shelves are labeled by category of invention and each item as a description of what its intended uses are.&nbsp; &nbsp;There is a cash register at the counter with a sign that reads “Ghost Rock Welcome as Payment”.&nbsp; <br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/archive/b/ba/20130302023555%21Steampunk-workshop.jpg)</div><br>The shop is run by Maria Campos, a Mexican immigrant. Maria has a good head on her shoulders and a pretty face that draws in customers.&nbsp; &nbsp;Maria knows about the “special” items that Agatha has been selling discretely to the local brothels and select individuals in town and is the first line of defense for inquiries.&nbsp; If a customer hands her a business card with Agatha’s pressed lipstick on the back she passes them on to Agatha who takes the sales from there.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; The back of Agatha’s is the workshop.&nbsp; Anyone looking in would think it a disorganized disaster, but that is how Agatha likes it.&nbsp; She knows where everything is and where it goes and has a method of cataloging that borders on the insane.&nbsp; &nbsp;Half completed projects are tucked away all over the place as are rolls of blueprints for her mundane clockworks.&nbsp; A large safe sits in along the font wall of the workroom.&nbsp; There are all sorts of rumors as to what Agatha keeps in there.</div></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Accountant</div><div class="spoiler_body">&nbsp; <br><strong>Owner:</strong>&nbsp; Theodore Davis<br><strong>Operator:</strong>&nbsp; Theodore Davis,&nbsp; Michael Brown, Samantha Tyre, plus several apprentices<br><strong>Range of Quality:</strong> El Cheapo - Extraordinary<br><strong>Description:</strong>&nbsp; Theodore has a soft spot for those down on their luck that are willing to work hard and learn new skills.&nbsp; As he is the only accounting office in Gomorra, he has a long client list and is one of the very few businesses that is spared from the in-fighting between the factions.&nbsp; He has an incredible knack for picking bright minds that just need a little training to help at the office and, unlike many other businesses, he does not cater to the prejudices and sexism of the people.&nbsp; His office is large and has several smaller offices within.&nbsp; His office works on accounting matters for anyone interested – whether it's personal accounting or business accounting.&nbsp; The larger assets are handled by himself or one of his most experienced personnel.&nbsp; The smaller assets are handled often times by his apprentices but he oversees their work.</div></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Ammunitionist</div><div class="spoiler_body"> <br><strong>Owner:</strong> Broden Bagley<br><strong>Operator:</strong> Marie Bagley<br><strong>Range of Quality:</strong> El Cheapo - Average<br><strong>Description:</strong> The ammunitionist shop is the most recently opened in the chain of stores that the Bagley family runs.&nbsp; All the ammunition used to be sold at the gun shop but, as demand for more became overwhelming, a new store was opened.&nbsp; The light wood of the building is fairly nice and is new enough that the building is not overly weathered.&nbsp; &nbsp;The inside of the store is meticulously organized and various types of common ammunition can be found packaged, labeled, and placed on clearly marked shelves.&nbsp; The wooden floor is swept clean and the area rug in the middle is inviting.&nbsp; This is the store for people looking for strange ammunition, on commission of course, or those just looking for a lot of ammo in bulk.&nbsp; New store policy:&nbsp; No loading ammo into guns and/or shooting guns inside the shop.&nbsp; No smoking please!</div></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Bakery</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>Owner:</strong> Anna Douglas<br><strong>Operator:</strong> Anna Douglas<br><strong>Range of Quality:</strong> Average - Fine<br><strong>Description:</strong> The scent of baking bread, cinnamon rolls, and other pastry treats waft throughout the streets of the area starting at around three am as Anna gets ready for the morning.&nbsp; She offers fresh baked goods daily and continues baking through the afternoon.&nbsp; Each evening, Anna donates her day-old goods to the mining camps to help feed those that may not otherwise have food for the day.&nbsp; It is not uncommon for those that are most hungry to appear around her shop in the early evening.&nbsp; The shop itself is very clean and stocked full of her freshly baked treats in the morning and all but empty by the evening.&nbsp; She also has a couple small tables for people to sit at but is by no means an eatery.&nbsp; </div></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Bankum &amp; Bankum, Attorneys</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>Owner:</strong>&nbsp; Sweetrock Mining Company<br><strong>Operator:</strong>&nbsp; Maxwell Bankum and Gideon Bankum<br><strong>Range of Quality:</strong> Extraordinary<br><strong>Description:</strong> If you are in need of a great attorney, Bankum and Bankum is the way to go.&nbsp; As long as you don't mind working with Sweetrock Mining Company or aren't one of their enemies.&nbsp; The attorneys office is pristine and has a great reputation for being able to assist their clients in any matter.&nbsp; Their prices, at least the ones that can be paid for in hard coin, are expensive.&nbsp; A bit out of range for the common folk but they are known to be swayed to help out for a much lesser fee for a good cause.</div></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Blacksmith</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>Owner:</strong>&nbsp; Benjamin Turly<br><strong>Operator:</strong>&nbsp; Benjamin Turly, Kit Marson<br><strong>Range of Quality:</strong> El Cheapo&nbsp; - Fine<br><strong>Description:</strong> Benjamin Turly took over the Blacksmith after an accident made sure the last owner wouldn't be able to craft again.&nbsp; Since he took over, he has learned a great deal about his trade and been able to increase the quality of goods he makes for the people of Gomorra.&nbsp; His shop is broken into two part, the front room that his customers are welcome to make their purchases or their commissions and the back that contains his forge and equipment.&nbsp; Kit, Benjamins assistant, has taken over much of the day-to-day needs of Gomorra, making large batches of nails and many other useful items.&nbsp; Neither of the men are particularly chatty with their customers as their work keeps them quite busy.</div></div>Bob's Fix-It Shop <br>Boat Yard<br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">*Bodega de Goni*</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div align="center">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/fd/Flamenco_by_dimitrosw.jpg)</div><strong>Owner:</strong> Onneca de Goni<br><strong>Operator:</strong> Onneca de Goni<br><strong>Range of Quality:</strong> Average, Fine, Extraordinary<br><strong>Description:</strong> A doily-laced and perfumed haven for the ladies of Gomorra is the Bodega de Goni, an adobe cottage with glass windows decorated in lace and bold curtains reminiscent of both Mexican and Hopi culture. A small garden runs the length of the front with wildflowers that can stand the bright sun that shines in through the front windows. The raised stone garden is interrupted only by a cozy rough grain door, and similar rough grain shutters protect the windows at night. The sides and back of the plain adobe structure have been painted by multicolored small handprints, the work of schoolchildren invited to the bodega each year to share Onneca's colorful dyes and express themselves on the mudbrick canvas.<br><br><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>A little bell jingles over the door when a customer steps into the clean but cluttered shop. The first shelves are crowded with heirloom vegetables and fruits, dried seeds, toiletries such as scented soaps and beeswax for luxurious lips and hair, beeswax candles, and interspersed knick knacks of Mexican origin, including a dollhouse that's seen considerable wear from local children, an item Onneca has thus far declined to part with.</td><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/00/Herboriste.jpg)</td></tr><tr><td>Beyond these shelves lie the bottles and jars containing linseed oil, mild herbal tinctures such as purple prairie clover for digestion, yarrow for pain relief, calendula oil to stop bleeding, and slender milk-vetch root to induce lactation. The prize of these shelves, however, are the honeys- the honey comes in jars of all sizes and in several distinct flavors, from the common wildflower honey to the more expensive citrusy orange blossom honey, sweet clover honey, and mild, smooth star thistle honey.</td><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/db/Harmony20.jpg)</td></tr><tr><td>Deeper still are the linens- towels, blankets, bedsheets, pillowcases, small rugs, drapes, and other common household items. Lower-budget clothing not specifically tailored for an individual are found on these racks, as well as spools of linen and wool, multicolored thread and ribbon, and sewing needles for local seamstresses. The clothes are largely for women, but there are select articles for men as well- often gifts for husbands or fathers. By far the most haphazard section of the bodega, the linens are often picked through and poorly sorted.</td><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/54/Bodega3edit.jpg)</td></tr><tr><td>The very rear of the bodega, shielded by a privacy screen, is a small sanctuary where fittings and measurements take place, away from prying eyes. This private area is also where Onneca shows her lovingly crafted pieces, light, flowing dresses which either did not meet a customer's desires or which were her own personal projects.</td><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7a/Bodega1edit.jpg)</td></tr></tbody></table></div></div>Bookstore<br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Broden's Smithy</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>Owner:</strong>&nbsp; Broden Bagley<br><strong>Operator:</strong>&nbsp; Broden Bagley<br><strong>Range of Quality:</strong>&nbsp; Average - Extraordinary<br><strong>Description:</strong>&nbsp; Not lookin' like much from the outside, the first business the Bagley family started was the smithy.&nbsp; Hastily built, the smithy was built from long, dark wooden planks, weather worn and repaired several times on the outside.&nbsp; Looks can, and often are, deceiving.&nbsp; Inside the shop, a newer dark wood covers the walls and the floors, carefully sanded and maintained.&nbsp; Inside the shop, several hand crafted display shelves line the walls, showing off Brodens work and stocked with the most common needs of Gomorra.&nbsp; Due to past theft attempts, the shop only displays items of average quality.&nbsp; Those lookin' for something better will have to wait for it.&nbsp; The front room is small as his smith shop, in the back area, takes up most of the space.&nbsp; He doesn't often allow anyone but family in the back for their safety and his peace of mind.</div></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">*Burnham Detection Agency*</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>Owner</strong>: Avery Burnham<br><strong>Operator</strong>:&nbsp; Avery Burnham<br><strong>Range of Quality</strong>:&nbsp; A matter of opinion.<br><strong>Description</strong>:&nbsp; <br>The Burnham Independent Detection and Security Agency is a small office space located on Gomorra's main drag, formerly home to a defunct doctor's practice.&nbsp; It offers discrete services for those seeking private assistance with matters involving: theft, personal security, missing persons, information retrieval, business security, and 'misc. services'.&nbsp; Fee charged by the day and negotiated at time of employment.<br><br>The office itself is split into three sections, the first an open waiting room with several chairs and a bench placed against the wall.&nbsp; A few old newspapers and a Sears &amp; Roebucks catalogue have been arranged on a small coffee table for clients' entertainment.&nbsp; Despite some dust and a general look of disuse, it is fairly clean overall.&nbsp; A small tasteful photograph of the queen has been hung on the wall across the entry as the only decoration besides the fresh wallpaper.<br><br>The second room houses the office proper which contains a large mahogany desk with two chairs placed before it for seating potential clients.&nbsp; The walls showcase a collection of framed news articles from England, the proprietor's homeland, in which he was apparently singled out for praise by his former employers at Scotland Yard.&nbsp; Behind the desk is a small bookshelf next to the window, containing several leather-backed volumes ranging from Bouvier's Law Dictionary to a book of English poetry.&nbsp; A shaggy buffalo head hangs on the wall directly across from the desk with a Sharp's 50 rifle mounted below it.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <br>The final room is a private area containing a small cot and various sundries belonging to the owner, and smelling vaguely of thirty-year old bachelor.<br><br>(This office also doubles as Avery's primary place of residence.)</div></div>Candlestick Maker<br>Candy Store <br><del>Greater Rockies Claims Office</del><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Dam's Investment Brokers</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>Owner</strong>:&nbsp; Roberto Dam Esq.<br><strong>Operator</strong>:&nbsp; Roberto Dam Esq.<br><strong>Range of Quality</strong>:&nbsp; N/A<br><br><strong>Description</strong>: Every so often some miner manages to beat all the odds, avoid the Maze Rats and evade Sweetrock's attention long enough to actually make a claim, get it to stick and end up with a considerable amount of money. Considering that most miners could barely rub two dollars together at the best of times those that do strike it rich normally turn to Roberto Dam Esq. (and don't anyone even think of forgetting the “Esq.” part) to handle their affairs.<br><br>Roberto has the quick southern charm of a snakeoil salesman and those who experience of such people may quickly think he is little more than a confidence trickster. However Roberto is actually a highly competent investment broker and almost always gives good advice to his clients. His cut may seem extravagant but he does not deliberately rip off his clients, be they miners, business owners or those with established wealth. Fiercely independent he has resisted all efforts from Sweetrock to muscle in on the investment game and has handled the Whateley's financial affairs for many years, offering stability and solid returns (even deducting his cut) over “get rich quick” schemes.<br><br>His offices themselves are simple but well appointed, located west of the Tracks but not so deeply within the area that a miner would feel uncomfortable walking through the elegant houses to get there. The only real extravagance Roberto leans to is his tendency to hire very pretty assistants who take the role of receptionist, secretary and general comforting presence to a nervous miner.</div></div>Davidson Consulting<br>Duvalier's Field Office<br>Equipment Shop<br>Exchange Office<br>Eye Doctor<br>Fu Leng's Laundry &amp; Tailoring<br>Fortune Teller's Shop <br>Fine China Shop<br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Gun Shop</div><div class="spoiler_body"> <br><strong>Owner:</strong>&nbsp; Broden Bagley<br><strong>Operator:</strong>&nbsp; Natalie Bagley<br><strong>Range of Quality:</strong>&nbsp; Poor - Fine<br><strong>Description:</strong>&nbsp; While the Gun Shop has been around for awhile, Natalie has not had a great reason to purchase better guns for her shop.&nbsp; Most customers are just looking for something that will get the job done.&nbsp; The Gun Shop buys, sells and trades guns if her conditions are met at time of sale.&nbsp; The building itself is in good condition and maintained by the Bagley family.&nbsp; New store policy:&nbsp; No shooting any guns inside the store.</div></div>Glass Maker <br>Holme's Workshop <br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Helga’s Wafflehaus</div><div class="spoiler_body">&nbsp; <br><strong>Owner:</strong>&nbsp; Helga Koch<br><strong>Operator:</strong>&nbsp; Helga Koch, Berta Koch, Dora Koch, Ingrid Koch, <br><strong>Range of Quality:</strong> Average<br><strong>Description:</strong>&nbsp; Helga Koch came out West to Gamorra with her three daughters to find her husband – only to discover him living with in sin with another man in Shan Fan.&nbsp; Rather than being heart-broken or angry, she simply moved on.&nbsp; Most who’ve met Helga assume her husband fled to the West to escape her henpecking ways, as Helga has a brassy disposition and a strong arm.&nbsp; She also has a rather enormous bosom, a trait shared by her three daughters, and the ‘Wafflehaus’ is frequented for reasons beyond its decent fare.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Prices are reasonable, food is plentiful and adequately cooked, but there is little to offer a gourmand beyond hearty foods, well prepared.&nbsp; The Wafflehaus girls are oft ogled, but rarely touched – not even the shyest of the girls has any trouble offering a reddened palmprint across the cheek to any customer who does more than ogle.&nbsp; </div></div>Ignacio's Exotics-Mystical<br>Jeweler<br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">*Jones’ Mercantile &amp; Trade*</div><div class="spoiler_body"> <br><div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/55/Doomtown_Jones_Store_Banner.jpeg)</div><strong>Owner:</strong>&nbsp; Jaelyn Scot-Jones<br><strong>Operator:</strong>&nbsp; Jaelyn Scot-Jones<br><strong>Quality:</strong>&nbsp; El Cheapo-Fine (The majority of goods are Average, but Fine versions and cheaper versions are available)<br><strong>Description:</strong>&nbsp; &nbsp; Jones' Mercantile &amp; Trade is located not too far from the town square on the Southeast Temptation spoke of Gomorra's main roads.&nbsp; At first glance it seems out of place in the area known as Miner’s Peril, but Thommy Jones - who insisted on quality workmanship - had built for home and livelihood.&nbsp; <br><br>During the daylight hours, it IS home to more than one gaggle of Gomorra’s own; mostly, the Whippersnapper Express, a motley bunch of orphans who manage well as the town’s unofficial post &amp; parcel delivery system.&nbsp; The Whippersnappers tend to congregate in a small side yard that contains the entrance to the private residence.&nbsp; This entrance opens to a small sitting area and dining room with stairs leading up to the living space on the second floor.&nbsp; On the ground floor in the back, there is also a kitchen, separated by a sturdy wall from the store's delivery and storage area.<br><br>The wrap around porch makes for a good impromptu meeting place, the side of the building is littered with years worth of tacked up notices, official and otherwise.&nbsp; Most days will find a spattering of miners and menfolk spinning tales and sharing news, and women - both wives and otherwise - taking a break for a bit of gossip and news of their own sort.<br><br>Jones’ offers anything a miner needs, including sticks, caps, fuses, nitro, plungers, picks, axes, shovels, thick trousers, backpacks, canteens, etc AND is the only establishment in Gomorra authorized to sell explosives.&nbsp; With his family in mind, Thommy also stocked in a vast assortment of dry goods; bolts of wool &amp; cotton fabrics, sewing notions, basic pre-made clothes, bonnets, liniments, soaps, flour, sugar, salt, coffee, chicory, oolong tea, sweets, and cured meat - namely bacon.&nbsp; On occasion, there will be a bushel or two of fresh fruit, a rare treat for the Whippersnappers.<br><br>A specially made steel room is buried beneath the building.&nbsp; It is here that the legal explosives can be found along with other sundry items.&nbsp; The door is very secure with a massive lock and only one key, kept on the storekeepers person at all times.</div></div><del>Legal Offices of Nathan Hunter</del> <br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Leather &amp; Saddle Shop</div><div class="spoiler_body"> <br><strong>Owner:</strong> Charles Beck <br><strong>Operator:</strong> Charles Beck<br><strong>Quality:</strong> Poor - Average<br><strong>Description:</strong>&nbsp; Charles has opened a shop that, in Gomorra, is a difficult one to keep going.&nbsp; Horses are not brought into Gomorra often as they have a hard time going over the bridges so he doesn't sell as many saddles as he'd like.&nbsp; As for his leather goods, he has had to get quite creative about what kind of animal hides he uses for his products.&nbsp; As expected, his shop has slowly become less and less attractive as repairs and upkeep have started to fall a little behind.&nbsp; The wood planks that form his shop are starting to show wear and tear and the inside is a little dusty and cluttered.</div></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">London Royal Apothecary</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div align="center"> <em> <strong><span style="font-family: giddyup std;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 40pt;" class="bbc_size">The London Royal Apothecary</span></span></strong></em></div><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i1217.photobucket.com/albums/dd394/Vithe_rothe/Doomtown/410px-Arms_of_the_Royal_Society_svg_zps279b290b.png)</div><div class="floatright">(http://i1217.photobucket.com/albums/dd394/Vithe_rothe/Doomtown/Doomtown2_zps7672d06c.jpg)(http://i1217.photobucket.com/albums/dd394/Vithe_rothe/Doomtown/Doomtown1_zps08789503.jpg)</div><br><strong>Owner:</strong> <span style="font-family: giddyup std;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 16pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong> Lady Elisabeth Victoria Anne Boyle</strong></span></span><br><strong>Range of Quality:</strong> Average, Fine, Special [alchemy]<br><strong>Description:</strong> The London Royal Apothecary sets on the main street near the center of town. It is known not only throughout Gomorra but also the Great Maze and surrounding area as the place for medicines and sundry. The owner and operator Lady Elisabeth Boyle was trained at Oxford and Calcutta and is a member of the famous Royal Society of London as well as a member of 'The Collegium' and also holds a Licentiate of the Society of Apothecaries. <br><br>There is little that cannot be supplied or made in the realm of medicine that cannot be had from the Apothecary. New medicines such as aspirin and the new ideas on germs put for by Doctor Pasteur and his colleagues.<br><br>Not only are fine medicines to be had but also many other sundry items. Fine razors and bristle brushes for the gentlemen. Many all the way from Germany. There is also many types of fine soap and Ladies Hygiene items. Lotions for smooth skin, salves for aches and pains. The apothecary has what is needed to make life a little easier.<br><br>The shoppe also carries a world famous 7 gold medal award cigar 'The H. Upmann' it is very expensive and only found at the Apothecary and considered the best cigar in the world.</div></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Machinist's Shop</div><div class="spoiler_body"> <br><strong>Owner:</strong>&nbsp; Broden Bagley<br><strong>Operator:</strong>&nbsp; Christine Bagley<br><strong>Quality:</strong>&nbsp; Fine - Extraordinary<br><strong>Description:</strong>&nbsp; Catering mostly to the needs of the Collegium, the Bagley family makes whatever replacement parts or unique parts that the scientists need.&nbsp; Christine has proven time and again that she can live up to their exacting measures.&nbsp; While Christine mostly works for the Collegium, she will sell to others but only the more basic parts that may be needed.&nbsp; Anything created for the Collegium is for the scientists only.&nbsp; &nbsp;Being friends with the Collegium has its benefits and the building has many unique touches both inside and outside.&nbsp; Along the walls on the outside there are several clockworks of various sizes painted on the smooth wooden walls.&nbsp; On the inside, the walls have actual clockworks in metal on the walls as well as several other examples of her work. </div></div>Nick's &amp; Nack's <br>Nasty Docs <br>O'Reilly's Five and Dime <br>Perry's Pawnshop <br>Pharmacy<br>Photographer Shop <br>Pony Express <br>Sam's General Store<br>Stagecoach Office<br>Surveyor's Office<br>Sweetrock Smoking Lounge<br>Tack and Harness Shop<br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Tailor</div><div class="spoiler_body">&nbsp; <br><strong>Owner:</strong> Bethany Clarke<br><strong>Operator:</strong> Bethany Clarke, Alice Clarke<br><strong>Quality:</strong> El Cheapo - Average<br><strong>Description:</strong>&nbsp; Bethany takes great pride in her shop.&nbsp; Her shop has many little 'homey' touches that make her customers feel right at home.&nbsp; When visiting her shop, she offers her customer beverages and a seat in one of the nice, comfortable chairs as they discuss what clothing they want tailored.&nbsp; Along her walls are her most popular fabrics for people to peruse.&nbsp; She has two large stalls for privacy when it comes time to take measurements.&nbsp; Bethany and her assistant, Alice, also make house calls for their business.&nbsp; &nbsp;With Alice being full grown and courted regularly by several men in town, her mother, Bethany, looks forward to any company coming into her shop.&nbsp; She's been known to spend a good deal of time chatting and gossiping while tending to her customers.&nbsp; Sometimes far longer than her customers would like.</div></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Tailoring Shop</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>Owner:</strong> Marcellus Grayson<br><strong>Operator:</strong> Marcellus Grayson and several others<br><strong>Quality:</strong> El Cheapo - Average<br><strong>Description:</strong> Just looking at the building Marcellus is in would leave most with an untrained eye to believe that his shop produces remarkable quality.&nbsp; And the prices he charges only make his rouse seem like fact.&nbsp; For average quality goods, Marcellus charges fine prices.&nbsp; For the most part, Marcellus doesn't do much work in his shop, much preferring to leave that to his several employees but he knows just enough about his craft to keep others impressed but wouldn't be able to follow with another tailor with real skill in their craft.&nbsp; His shop is always immaculate and his employees are usually very busy.</div></div>Tea and Tobacco Shop<br>The Barber's Shop<br>The Bathhouse<br>The Carpenter's Shop<br>The Cooper<br>The Dentist's Office<br>The Good Doctor<br>The Horse Doctor<br>The Intelligence Shop<br>The Undertakers<br>Toy Shop<br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Valentine's Oddities</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>Owner:</strong>&nbsp; Alexander Valentine<br><strong>Operator:</strong>&nbsp; Alexander Valentine<br><strong>Quality:</strong>&nbsp; Poor to Fine<br><strong>Description:</strong> A two story building near the outer edges of Gomorra that had been renovated by Alex himself after he bought the deed from the bank. Having been a former smithy, albeit slightly rundown, the location suited a majority of his needs - both personal and business - since it already came equipped with an open-air design for the forge and a moderately sized storage shed out around back. <br><br>The first floor of the building had been reworked to have a saloon style feel with the cheaper merchandise displayed out front in rows of tables and bookshelves lined with gadgets, while the higher end items are housed in glass cases near the cash register.&nbsp; A series of bells chime as customers enter the store proper - the door is on an angle with a slight awning extending overhead in the event it rains - and the name of his shop is displayed on hanging signs along all three sides of the awning and the glass window of the door itself.<br><br>Alex's stock ranges from things whose functions are immediately known to clockwork contraptions that usually require a demonstration to understand their uses. He also has a few gun attachments housed in the glass cases that are of his own design, wind-up knickknacks and a variety of other splendors. A small sign near the register tells customers that all sales are final, but that he offers discounted repairs for anything he sells as well as standard price repairs for just about anything else if he can fix it. There is also a flight of stairs leading upstairs that can be seen behind the counter as well as a locked door leading to the smithy out back. <br><br>The second floor of the building is for Alex's eyes only and houses a single bed where he sleeps when he can't afford to stay elsewhere - or just flat out passes out in his shop - and his tinkering workbench that is usually cluttered with parchments with charcoal sketches of whatever Alex is currently working on. Large bookshelves line the far wall and is home to most of his failed inventions, as well as leather bound tomes (both small and large) and a small safe that is empty as far as anyone knows. <br><br>The shed out back is both padlocked and held shut by another locking mechanism that is Alexander's own design which requires a certain series of numbers before it clicks open. Inside are his larger projects, another workbench and tools he uses for his smithy or when he needs to go out to the mine or gather materials.</div></div><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Weaponsmith</div><div class="spoiler_body"> <br><strong>Owner:</strong>&nbsp; Broden Bagley<br><strong>Operator:</strong>&nbsp; Helen Bagley<br><strong>Quality:</strong> Average - Fine<br><strong>Description:</strong> The Weaponsmith is open for people who don't mind waiting a bit for what they're looking for.&nbsp; While there are always a couple items on display, the majority of the weapons are crafted on commission.&nbsp; &nbsp;Helen, the operator and smith, is well known to be able to craft very specific and personalized weapons.&nbsp; The Weaponsmith is in very good condition and is one of the smaller businesses as the front displays only a few items and the back is her workspace. </div></div> </div></div> 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>09-03-2013, 06:42:32</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5a/Agatha-avi.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Agatha Dunwich<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 3nd, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> The London Royal Apothecary, Gomorra<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Lady Boyle, Onneca<br><hr>&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/c/c4/VictorianDresses.jpg)</div> Morning tea, a ritual Agatha Dunwich looked forward to every morning, though today she was running a little late.&nbsp; That wasn’t at all uncommon for the copper-haired young scientist.&nbsp; She was often up late working on one thing or another and last night had been no different in that respect.&nbsp; However Spooky’s return had been a complete and wonderful surprise.&nbsp; Neither Onneca, nor Elizabeth knew much about him.&nbsp; He had left soon after the two had arrived in Gomorra, only staying long enough to know that Agatha would be safe and had a roof over her head and he was gone again, but he was here now and that made her happy.&nbsp; &nbsp;Gomorra it seems is a town full of surprises and while Christian’s return was near the top of her list nothing compared to finding Onneca again.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>Onneca.</em>&nbsp; The name brought a soft smile to her lips, one born of distant memories, of rail camp songs and made up games, of laughter and whispers and wildflowers.&nbsp; Agatha often wondered if the memories she cherished most were held as dearly by her childhood friend.&nbsp; She was afraid to ask.<br>&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; There was a little bounce in Agatha's step as she walked across the raised wooden walk along Main Street towards The London Royal Apothecary.&nbsp; She knew which boards needed replacing and which did not just by the sounds they made and the way they flexed against her feet.&nbsp; She wore a simple dress, eggshell white, though of fine quality and twirled a parasol on her shoulder.&nbsp; She would like to have dressed prettier for tea (or for the ladies she enjoyed it with), but unlike Elizabeth, her work could be dirty and grimy and it wouldn’t do to soil her good clothes.&nbsp; As it is, it would take her an hour just to get out of this dress and into clothes she used in her workshop when she opened the store for the day.&nbsp; Today her long fiery locks were coiled into a pair of braids she wrapped from her temples and coiled up in back where they were pinned in place. A dusting of rouge gave a hint of color to her porcelain cheeks and her emerald eyes shown brightly in the morning sun. <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;She looked much more proper today than normal, but there had been a town meeting this morning and dire news it was.&nbsp; The sheriff was dead.&nbsp; Shot in cold blood and they were mounting a posse to go get the man responsible.&nbsp; It was bad.&nbsp; She had been in towns without a sheriff before.&nbsp; It knocked a town off kilter like a badly constructed building.&nbsp; No sheriff to some meant no law and that would make a town like Gomorra even more dangerous.&nbsp; She pushed the ugly thoughts from her mind, an easy thing for Agatha.&nbsp; She rarely stayed on a specific thought very long unless she was working on a project or taking tea.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;It was Onneca that first suggested they meet together in the mornings to talk.&nbsp; Elizabeth naturally suggested Tea.&nbsp; It was familiar to her, a little bit of distant home, Agatha assumed, but she had readily agreed.&nbsp; For the better part of the last year they had met to talk and share and gossip.&nbsp; The men of Gomorra snickered and laughed at them.&nbsp; They were women playing shop and nothing more, poor bastards didn’t know what hit them.&nbsp; They had stayed and persevered and even thrived and had done so together.&nbsp; &nbsp;There were the best of friends and that made certain things very complicated for Agatha.&nbsp; Normally she welcomed complicated.&nbsp; Agatha reveled in complicated, but that was steel and steam, cogs and capacitors.&nbsp; This was a different kind of complicated.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Agatha lifted a bouquet of desert wildflowers to her pert nose and let their fragrance caress it.&nbsp; They were tied together with a single bit of twine; orange poppies, pure white desert stars and lavender evening primroses.&nbsp; Agatha had picked them while out on the mesa the day before and kept them in water overnight so she would have them for today.&nbsp; Flowers didn’t grow in fields of color here like they did on the mainland.&nbsp; Here they grew on the leeward side of rocky outcroppings or on the side of the mesa’s walls themselves.&nbsp; The Maze had more to offer than ghost rock and even in such a blasted and inhospitable land you could find something truly beautiful if you just knew where to look.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phaia</strong> on <strong>12-03-2013, 00:32:46</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1217.photobucket.com/albums/dd394/Vithe_rothe/Doomtown/Doomtown371_zps291b515a.jpg)</div> <br><br><br><strong>Name:</strong><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size"> <span style="font-family: comic sans ms;" class="bbc_font">Lady Elisabeth Boyle</span></span><br><strong>Faction:</strong> Member of the Collegium.<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 3rd, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> 'The London Royal Apothecary'<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Agatha and Onneca<br><hr> <br><br>Elisabeth had hurried back from the town meeting and was able to get the tea ready and the table out on the wooden walk set up before either of her dearest friends could arrive. She let down her hair a bit since she was still flustered from her night terror of early Monday morning. The effects of the horrid dream would hang on for 2 days and she had that frazzled and needy look the other ladies had begun to recognize. It was the one subject she had yet been unable to speak of with the others since it was both terrifying and arousing to her.<br><br>She was wearing her blue silk blouse and matching silk skirt with all the silken undergarments that went with them. She loved the feel of silk on her skin almost as much as she liked the feel of nothing on her skin. She sat down and took a minute to think about what had happened. The town clearly needed a new sheriff but please not Bilton, he was a pig at best and at worst he might very well drive out all those not fitting his view&nbsp; of how ladies should act.<br><br>She had pulled out the bulldog pistol she kept in her purse and then the second she kept hidden laying them both on the table. It was rare she would have them out but she had decided that her friends needed a bit of encouragement concerning guns and she might have to do that encouraging. She heard a step on the wooden broads and looked up expecting one or the other of the 'ladies' but instead saw a student of Professor Hardinger she knew. He bowed and handed her a sealed letter then walked off.<br><br>Elisabeth opened the letter and began reading, her eyes narrowing and a look of concern on her features as the other ladies would arrive. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>12-03-2013, 02:09:09</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/53/Onnecamug3.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Onneca de Goni<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 3, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> The London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Agatha, Elisabeth<br><hr><br>A smile just escaped the shadow of Onneca's sun hat, straw with a lavender bow that trailed in the back and a brim almost broader than her shoulders. In her arms was a bundle of cloth that might've bore a tiny babe or a very spoilt kitten "Ho-la~" she called with a voice that to her own ears was loud, but barely made it from the dusty road through the din of rickety carriage wheels and the songs of locusts to the Royal Apothecary's front porch. Elisabeth seemed to be reading somethng important, something that didn't make her smile. The smile that endured the whole way here, in the dust and sun and glower of church ladies, became tentative as she read the worried mood of one of her closest friends in the world.<br><br>"Something is bothering you," she said gently. She lifted the bundle of cloth onto the table beside Elisabeth's bulldog and unwrapped it gingerly, a fresh jar of honey sparkling golden in the sun, not too hot, but just warm enough to be gathered in a teaspoon and stirred into a spot of tea. Each one was a gift, compliments of the bodega, to repay Beth for her hospitality and her tea, for her friendship, for her conversation on a morning like this. There was so much to talk about. But first she was prepared to listen, particularly once she spied the gun on the table. The position of her slender body neatly blocked its silvery finish from onlookers as she sat down and looked pleadingly to Elisabeth. "You can tell me."<br><br>Now they were missing only one. Certainly, the table was made to seat four, or even five under the right conditions, but the Ladies of Science were only three. It was Onneca, and it was Agatha, and it was Elisabeth, banded together against the world, through thick and thin, musketeers in their own right. She spied the third among them coming down the wooden walkway with a splash of color in the wildflowers Onneca adored. While usually she had a great big dimpled smile for Aggy, it was a little cautious now. Rarely was it good news that came in a letter to a woman in these times.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>13-03-2013, 03:39:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5a/Agatha-avi.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Agatha Dunwich<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 3, 1876&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Onneca, Elizabeth<br><hr><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Agatha could tell from Onneca’s smile that something was wrong, it touched her lips, but not her eyes.&nbsp; The wonderful news of Christian’s return died on her lips and she glanced from Onneca to Elizabeth who was reading a missive,&nbsp; a furrowed brow of concern marring her otherwise flawless features.&nbsp; She gave Onneca a questioning look, the gifts she brought momentarily forgotten.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp;“Elizabeth.” She asked softly.&nbsp; “Is it about the Sheriff?”&nbsp; She had been at the Town Hall when the Mayor made the announcement.&nbsp; If she hadn’t been rushing off this morning to be at that very place she would have read about it in the paper.&nbsp; She noted the pistol on the table, but had been around guns long enough not to be concerned about it.&nbsp; A woman living alone must always be on guard for those thinking she was an easy target.&nbsp; Two young and attractive woman (and Agatha) sharing tea on a porch could, in a town like Gomorra, attract the wrong kind of attention.&nbsp; Agatha always carried her derringer in her purse and had a shotgun behind the counter of her shop, but it was the fact that she was one of “those” scientists that did the most to keep the riff-raff away.&nbsp; Most right minded people avoided Agatha unless something broke down and needed fixing.&nbsp; She was sure they thought she could explode at any moment and take them all with her.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;For a woman like Agatha the sideways glances and strange looks hurt.&nbsp; She didn’t often show it, but it did.&nbsp; It didn’t help that her specialty was not something you ever talked about in polite society, but she had found her niche.&nbsp; In a town dominated by men she could either build a better killing machine, cater to the entertainment centers of Gomorra or focus on products the ladies of Gomorra could enjoy.&nbsp; She had done the first and been blackballed from the collegium so now she did the later and was very successful for it.&nbsp; There was a certain strange pride and sense of accomplishment being the provider of so much enjoyment for the ladies (and men) of Gomorra even if she could never tell a soul.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; Once again Agatha shared a glance with Onneca, her own face now concerned and waiting for an answer from Elizabeth.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phaia</strong> on <strong>13-03-2013, 05:03:39</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1217.photobucket.com/albums/dd394/Vithe_rothe/Doomtown/Doomtown371_zps291b515a.jpg)</div> <br><br><br><strong>Name:</strong><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size"> <span style="font-family: comic sans ms;" class="bbc_font">Lady Elisabeth Boyle</span></span><br><strong>Faction:</strong> Member of the Collegium.<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 3rd, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> 'The London Royal Apothecary'<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Agatha and Onneca<br><hr> <br><br>Elisabeth looked up from the letter as Agatha and Onneca arrived. Her deft fingers folded the letter and slid it back into the envelope and put that away in her right skirt pocket. Then she smiled at Onncea and Agatha, as she answered Onneca, "Professor Hardinger wrote to tell me of a murder of a friend over at the Collegium. Pierre Fontaine I worked a bit with him over the past year when he asked advice on the Boyle Air Pump*. He was working on an underwater mining device and was killed by the Maze rats. Agatha didn't you know Pierre? I thought he mentioned you once! The Professor was wondering if I knew or had heard anything about the murder since I often hear more then the rest of the Collegium does."<br><br>She turns to Onneca, giving her a smile and shake of her lovely yellow locks, "ohh dear you really shouldn't bring more honey I still have a couple of partial jars and I should tell you several over at the Collegium are fans after I took a jar over a month back. I am surprised you didn't get an order from them."<br><br>Elisabath stretches a bit, her blouse tightening over her bosom then she straightens her skirt and blouse but her eyes gave away her frazzled state ...maybe it was from the murder of the sheriff but she had looked this way before after one of her 'dreams'. Turning to Agatha, "Agatha dahling, such lovely wildflowers, did you need a vase for them or are they for Onneca again." Elisabeth' eyes twinkle as she smiles at Agatha. <br><br><br>[* http://www.princeton.edu/~his291/Air_Pump.html (http://www.princeton.edu/~his291/Air_Pump.html)&nbsp; -yes there was a paper on an Air Pump by Robert Boyle -Elisabeths great ancestor]
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>15-03-2013, 22:43:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/53/Onnecamug3.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Onneca de Goni<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 3, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> The London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Agatha, Elisabeth<br><hr><br>It wasn't even shocking anymore to hear that someone had been murdered. Onneca's fingers reached out to clasp Elisabeth's in silent commiseration, and she gave a light squeeze to communicate that she was there to share the burden. They had to be there for one another, the three of them, because nobody else would be and it was just too daunting for an unconventional woman to make it alone in this world. Onneca would not have survived out here without her closest friends, her confidantes. At times, they were perhaps a little <em>too </em>close- Onneca's fingers gave a little jump against Elisabeth's when she heard that mischievous tease of Elisabeth hinting at what neither Onneca nor Aggy would admit. If the flowers were for her, then she supposed she would take them with the same shy and understated thanks that she had before.<br><br>"The Sheriff was a good man." She gave a sad nod. "He scared me sometimes. I think he made many enemies to protect us. We do not see that very often. It is not popular to stand for something in the Maze. The water will always try to wear you down." She dabbed a little moisture from the corner of her eye, and then her hand went to retrieve a lace kerchief from her pocket because she was not nearly done. Onneca was an emotional creature. She could read a story about imaginary people and cry when nobody she knew, nobody who even really existed took a bullet. She believed in love and she had <em>faith </em>with all her heart, on her knees thrice a week and whispering to the Almighty, because she could <em>feel </em>His presence. She was the species of woman the West chewed up and spit out, and if Sheriff Coleman couldn't stand against the tide, that didn't fare well at all.<br><br>She had the politeness to avert her gaze when Elisabeth's bosom swelled tight against her blouse. Elisabeth knew, after all. Some of it the clever woman had intuited, and some Onneca had told after the requisite four shots of honey rum and ever keener questions. Sometimes a little tickle was necessary, but rarely more than that. She was not sure, anymore, just what kind of secrets she had spilled. Some, more than others, she was determined to keep buried. Her softened gaze slipped over to Aggy. "I think I will vote for Nash. He worked for Sheriff Coleman. The Sheriff would not have suffered him if he were a bad man. What do we know about him?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>17-03-2013, 07:41:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5a/Agatha-avi.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Agatha Dunwich<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 3, 1876&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Onneca, Elizabeth<br><hr>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“Oh my!” Agatha’s eyes widened at the news of Pierre’s demise.&nbsp; She had indeed known the man.&nbsp; He had been at the Collegium when she arrived in Gomorra.&nbsp; He was a nice enough gentleman.&nbsp; They hadn’t worked closely, but he had spoken up for her when she had philosophical differences with the head of the collegium Oswald Hardinger.&nbsp; She had understood Hardinger’s position then and now, but sometimes the realities of life make compromise necessary.&nbsp; He didn’t believe so and so here she was in Gomorra with no Collegium support.&nbsp; Hopefully that would change someday.&nbsp; Anyway Pierre, poor man. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“Yes, I knew him.&nbsp; &nbsp;He was a nice man.&nbsp; Is he asking you if you know anything or is he asking you to look into it for him?&nbsp; She guessed the later.&nbsp; Agatha nodded when Elizabeth mentioned that she often heard more than the collegium.&nbsp; The Collegium liked to separate themselves from everyone else.&nbsp; Not a bad idea when you often work with things that can blow up a city block or worse.&nbsp; Elizabeth had other advantages as well.&nbsp; She was an apothecary, not a “mad” scientist.&nbsp; She would not always be recognizable as a collegium member and she was absolutely gorgeous.&nbsp; Not just pretty or easy on the eyes, but the kind of beautiful that men kill each other over.&nbsp; Men get stupid and say things they shouldn’t around a woman like Elizabeth.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“…or are they for Onneca again.”&nbsp; Agatha was snapped away from other thoughts. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em> ‘For Onneca? Oh the flowers!’&nbsp; The wildflowers, yes they were for Onneca, but again?&nbsp; Why again?' </em>&nbsp; She picked wildflowers all the time when she was out on the mesas.&nbsp; She thought about the last time she had picked wildflowers; purple verbena, brilliant yellow blazing stars and pink mimulus.&nbsp; They too were given without thought…to Onneca.&nbsp; Desert lilies and lupine, phacelia and desert aster all…for Onneca.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Complicated.&nbsp; That was the word she used to describe morning tea.&nbsp; She wished dearly that her feelings and thoughts weren’t so complicated.&nbsp; For once simple would be so very nice. Agatha had promised herself the day they found one another that she would not burden Onneca with her feelings and she had done so for a year.&nbsp; She had tucked them aside and thrown herself into her work and she had become successful in her own right.&nbsp; Much of her success was due to Onneca. She had seen how her childhood friend had become a beautiful and caring woman that often thought more of others than herself.&nbsp; &nbsp;Agatha began to think of Onneca differently in the last year.&nbsp; Her childhood infatuation had been replaced with friendship, admiration and something more…complicated.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“They are.” Agatha said her smile friendly and warm.&nbsp; Her inner thoughts registering more like her usual preoccupation and absent-mindedness than anything else. <br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“But she is not the only special lady in my life I bear gifts for.”&nbsp; She owed much to Elizabeth too.&nbsp; Elizabeth was more outgoing and extroverted than Onneca.&nbsp; She could sell scales to a lizard.&nbsp; Agatha handed the bouquet of orange, white and purple flowers over to the object of her complication.&nbsp; She opened her handbag and produced another bouquet this one of plants not so pretty, but much more appropriate for the intuitive apothecary.&nbsp; Tied together with a pretty powder blue ribbon were ephedra twigs, wild licorice and creosote.&nbsp; All plants with medicinal purposes if someone knew how to process them.&nbsp; Agatha was certain Elizabeth did.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“I suppose I should vote too.&nbsp; Agatha was not interested in the politics of Gomorra.&nbsp; As long as she was allowed to build her inventions and free to sell them to whoever wished the devices she created she wasn’t so concerned about whom the mayor was or the sheriff.&nbsp; Thankfully she had Onneca and Elizabeth to give her insights into the machinations of Gomorra’s political predators or at least she got the really juicy bits of gossip.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“Oh! That reminds me.&nbsp; My friend Christian is in town.&nbsp; You know he would make a great Sheriff.&nbsp; &nbsp;I should tell him about it.” She had mentioned Christian by name before and gotten strange looks from her friends.&nbsp; Agatha didn’t look like she would have ridden with such a well-known and dangerous gunslinger like Christian “Spooky” Specter, but then again, they didn’t know everything about her.&nbsp; She had spent the better part of two years travelling the west with Christian and any legend that mentioned a woman by his side was probably referring to her and probably completely inaccurate.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ciosa</strong> on <strong>17-03-2013, 15:06:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6f/Oswald.png)</div>&nbsp;<br><strong>Name:</strong> Oswald Hardinger<br><strong>Faction:</strong> The Collegium (Chairman)<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 3rd, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp;The London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp;Agatha, Elisabeth, Onneca<br><hr> <br>A stormcloud brewed over Oswald's head.&nbsp; It wasn't a literal one – this time – but it was apparent to those who'd met him even casually.&nbsp; Oswald was a temperate, reasonable man.&nbsp; He rarely wore his emotions on his sleeve, but this morning he bore them openly as he trudged down the street.&nbsp; His gaze lifted, and he passed the lovely ladies at their morning tea.&nbsp; He paused long enough to tip his hat, and then drew to a pause, his brow furrowing even more deeply than it had before.&nbsp; A notion had crossed the genius's mind, and for a long moment he simply regarded them a distance it would be improper to shout from.&nbsp; He offered a small, friendly wave of his hand, a new idea set in his mind that seemed to overtake him, and he swept off with renewed vigor in his step.<br><br>A ways down the street, the graybearded scientist disappeared within the bakery.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phaia</strong> on <strong>17-03-2013, 20:07:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1217.photobucket.com/albums/dd394/Vithe_rothe/Doomtown/Doomtown371_zps291b515a.jpg)</div> <br><br><br><strong>Name:</strong><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size"> <span style="font-family: comic sans ms;" class="bbc_font">Lady Elisabeth Boyle</span></span><br><strong>Faction:</strong> Member of the Collegium.<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 3rd, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> 'The London Royal Apothecary'<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Agatha and Onneca<br><hr> <br><br>Elisabeth grinned as Agatha for a moment looked surprised that anyone had noticed that all the flowers were always for Onneca. She had decided recently to guide the two of them to what they both clearly wanted but were holding back. Society and doubt were horrid things but she had been learning much from a close secret friend of hers in the town.<br><br>She gave a bigger smile as Agatha handed her the bundle of the herbs and plants she had gathered. "Thank you so much Agatha...I can use these in at least 3 recipes one of them to help with children coughing and fever"<br><br>She turned to Onneca as her friend spoke of voting for Nash Bilton and her green eyes widen in surprise, "Onneca, please no, Nash Bilton is a thug and a pig. I have heard things that ... well the best way to describe Bilton is he is a mean dog that had been on Sheriff Coleman's leash. One of those that attack anything they do not like. Now no one controls that leash and we do not want him as Sheriff. One of the things I heard about Bilton and I was able to confirm this from another source this wasn't too long after I opened shop."<br><br>Elisabeth looked around and saw Professor Hardinger and gave him a nod as he waved, wondering what he was doing in Town after just sending a student with his letter to her. She scanned the area then leaned a bit over the table as her voice lowered.<br><br>"Bilton's well known to have been a former member of an outlaw gang.&nbsp; About a year ago, Bilton's gang were rumored to be in the area around Gomorra.&nbsp; One of them came into town and was jailed,&nbsp; after he stabbed someone, and Nash freed him from lockup.&nbsp; He had a distinctive gunbelt – exquisite craftsmanship, made out of solid black leather with silver trim.&nbsp; The man left town, but a week later they found a dozen men about four miles from Gomorra.&nbsp; They'd been killed in their sleep, and left for the buzzards.&nbsp; The man who came into town was among the dead, and Bilton still wears the gunbelt."<br><br>"I do not want to think what that kind of man could do to the lawful nature of the town. From what I know Deputy Nathan Hunter should be a better choice, he is a educated lawyer and can handle a gun and from what I know he is well respected within the business community... I plan of supporting him unless someone else comes along"<br><br>Elisabeth glanced at Agatha as she spoke of her old dear 'friend' 'Spooky' being in town.<br><br>"So your old friend Christen that you told us all about is in town, bring him by the shop later I would love to meet him... and speaking of him...hmmm" Elisabeth gets this look as if she is thinking but her green eyes dance with mischief and her red lips are curved in a smile. "Agatha remember that tinhorn writer that came to town last ...August I believe it was... the one that was searching for stories on your friend Christen and how he listened to everything you had to say"<br><br>Elisabeth could not help herself watching Agatha's eye narrow in wonder, "Well A week or so back I got package from home and in it was one of those dime novels from back East that had been reprinted in London... something called....'Spooky and the flame haired vixen against mad preachers posse'...&nbsp; Agatha! you never said you danced naked on a hill top to distract the posse so Christen could escape!...you could have told us that!..."<br><br>Elisabeth was trying hard not to giggle at the image of the story that involved her friend and the look she got on her face. As she poured tea for everyone.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>18-03-2013, 05:56:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/53/Onnecamug3.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Onneca de Goni<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 3, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> The London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Agatha, Elisabeth<br><hr><br>Her eyes went round, listening to how little Elisabeth thought of Nash Bilton. It wasn't in Onneca to speak ill of others, but it was cathartic to let others take the initiative. It was, the slump of her shoulders suggested, a pretty compelling case. Onneca usually came around to Elisabeth's way of thinking, but she took the indirect and scenic route. "What if a mean dog is what we need?" It wasn't a strong argument, and the tailor was not a strong debater, but it told what was important to Onneca: Protection. A man didn't need to be kind and he didn't need to be pretty. Sheriff Coleman had been neither, and she'd never enjoyed the kind of stability they had under the old Sheriff. Not ever.<br><br>The flowers were accepted with a bright smile. "Gracias,"<sup>1</sup> she murmured, almost sing-song, and brought them under the shade of her sun hat for a light and airy inhale. She got lost in the colors of them, recalling the convoluted system over in England for declaring love through bouquets of roses. A narrative straight out of one of her pulp stories was woven around the imagined significance of each color. Purple, that was love at first sight, a romantic notion that made her tickle the purple verbena to her nose. Had it been love at first sight? It was hard to say, now. Her feelings for Aggy had grown so interlaced over the years, like the verbena itself, each bloom an umbrella of smaller flowers, loveliest when viewed as a whole.<br><br>Such a girlish laugh spilled from behind her flowers at the idea of Spooky and Agatha filling the pages of a pulp adventure with scandal and plucky action. They were her guilty pleasure, only there was no Spooky in them. And if a flame-haired vixen of Agatha was naked in them, then it would be a tough cowgirl with a heart of gold riding off with her into the sunset, with a purple prose laundry list of the impractical sex that they had. It was almost enough to make Onneca jealous. Almost. She was reaching for her tea just as soon as Elisabeth so kindly poured it, the words "I want to read this" echoed within her cup as she tilted it to her lips with a dainty hold, almost hiding behind the rim.<br><br>It was good to smile and to laugh. That was what these tea gatherings were really about. Sometimes there were deeper things discussed, sometimes there were plans made and losses mourned, but it was the laughter that was sorely needed. She gave her throat a little clear, and spooned a bit of honey in to sweeten her tea. It was so warm from the sun that it flowed and dissolved right in, so luxurious, lost completely in the golden color of Elisabeth's delicious tea. A secret apothecary recipe, Onneca wagered. Maybe one of these days, she ought to turn the tables on the Englishwoman, loose her lips with booze and pry that recipe from her.<br><br>White was purity, she remembered all at once. A white rose was pure love, sacred under the eyes of God. But it was also secrecy, yes, a secret love at first sight. She was beginning to blush and nibble the tea from her lip. Orange...she wanted so much to remember what orange meant. Her eyes danced across to Elisabeth, who could surely answer the question, but she didn't dare ask. She was burning to know, though it didn't matter and Aggy wouldn't likely have thought of the significance. Aggy was probably more concerned with showing Onneca this week's blooms for their botanical significance. And the science of wildflowers was important, but more important was remembering what a bunch of stuffed shirts an ocean away decided orange flowers should mean.<br><br><em>Passion. </em>Lustful, feverish passion. Onneca took a gasp of breath as she remembered that orange was the hot desire of the language of roses. The narrative she wove went new places in her mind as clandestine love at first sight intertwined with a dark urge to take things further. She oughtn't have gone down that road. Now they were all going to be wondering what she was hiccuping about over there. "Disculpe,"<sup>2</sup> she breathed. "I am still thinking about the adventure of Spooky and the Flame Haired Vixen. Do tell more."<br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Translations</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>1:</strong> Thank you<br><strong>2:</strong> Pardon me</div></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>20-03-2013, 04:18:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5a/Agatha-avi.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Agatha Dunwich<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 3, 1876&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Onneca, Elizabeth, Uninvited Guest<br><hr>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Agatha nodded in agreement at what Elizabeth was saying.&nbsp; Bilton was a pig.&nbsp; She had seen how he treated some of the soiled doves at the casino’s and saloons around town and she listened when the girls chose to talk to her about such things.&nbsp; He was not the man for Gomorra.&nbsp; She could understand a strong arm, but when it is motivated by self-interest and power it was dangerous.&nbsp; However she didn’t think the alternative was any better.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“I am not so sure Deputy Hunter is the answer either.&nbsp; Without Sheriff Coleman and Deputy Bilton’s presence I think Mr. Hunter would be flatly ignored around here.&nbsp; He has too light of a touch.&nbsp; I have heard the way Mr. Bilton speaks of him to others.&nbsp; It is contemptuous at best and there are others that feel the same.&nbsp; Sometimes a good man isn’t a good Sheriff.”&nbsp; That was about as much as Agatha knew on the subject.&nbsp; It was simple gossip to be sure, but sometimes such things held some truth to them.&nbsp; Then again if the local gossip was true Agatha consorted with demons, fornicated with woman and Indians and took the lord’s name in vain. <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Agatha had noted Oswald’s approach probably before the others.&nbsp; He was an inventor, a visionary and a stubborn old codger that frustrated her as much as she admired him.&nbsp; The man was a genius, but an idealist and expected his ideals to be held by everyone else.&nbsp; In reality she missed the collegium and was frustrated that she had not been admitted on a philosophical difference with the man. <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;When Elizabeth mentioned bringing Christian by she nodded enthusiastically.&nbsp; She would love her him to meet her friends.&nbsp; Spooky could be an ornery cuss when he wanted to, but around women he was often quiet, but still a gentleman.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Agatha waited for Onneca to help herself to a spoonful of honey before taking one of her own.&nbsp; She loved honey and not because it was Onneca’s.&nbsp; Agatha had always loved it and had been stung countless times once trying to get some from a bee’s nest on her own.&nbsp; She had heard something about smoke calming the beasts and had made her own little smoke billowing machine to make an attempt at honey gathering.&nbsp; She had not however learned much about prevailing winds at the time and a sudden shift left her smokeless and facing an angry swarm.&nbsp; She’s had a slight fear of bees ever since.&nbsp; However her fear of bees did not extend to honey which she still enjoyed immensely.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Yes she remembered the reporter from back east.&nbsp; He was a persistent man that hounded her daily for stories of Christian “Spooky” Specter.&nbsp; So she had obliged him.&nbsp; She wove quite the tail of her friend’s adventures.&nbsp; Much of it completely false, but there were snippets of truth sprinkled throughout that only she knew about.&nbsp; She hadn’t expected that she or some facsimile of her would make into the stories.&nbsp; Thankfully the man had disliked her name and called the woman Abigail.&nbsp; She was however quite shocked that they had made it into print let alone all the way back to the Maze and into Elizabeth’s hands. <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Her eyes momentarily grew wide when Elizabeth spoke.&nbsp; She knew she was doing it on purpose to embarrass her, but that didn’t stop it from happening.&nbsp; Onneca’s sly comment about wanting to read it made her cheeks blush before she was able to recover her composure.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“I am surprised Elizabeth hasn’t posted it in town square.” She said glancing at the dark eyes looking over her tea cup and wrinkled her pert little nose at Onneca.&nbsp; “And contrary to what you might think Elizabeth, I don’t tell you everything.&nbsp; What fun would these little moments be if I did?”&nbsp; She wasn’t confirming she had done it, but she wasn’t denying it happened either.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The sounds coming from Onneca’s cup distracted her for a moment and she was about to ask Onneca if she was ok when she spoke up.&nbsp; Her guard up she was able to keep the blush from growing when Onneca asked for details and she took a seat between her two friends and looked towards the pretty apothecary a sly look in her eye. “At least they got the hair right.&nbsp; I think I could get used to being called a flame haired vixen.”&nbsp; She said with a smile.&nbsp; She had certainly been called much worse.&nbsp; “And yes, Elizabeth, do tell us of my exploits.“<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ciosa</strong> on <strong>20-03-2013, 07:36:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6f/Oswald.png)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Oswald Hardinger<br><strong>Faction:</strong> The Collegium (Chairman)<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 3rd, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> The London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Agatha, Elisabeth, Onneca<br><hr> Oswald reappeared from the bakery down the road, a fresh loaf of bread and a small tin of butter in a woven satchel under his arm.&nbsp; He took a confident step back towards the assembled ladies, but slowed as he approached, remaining off the deck without any kind of express invitation.&nbsp; He doffed his top hat, bowing low, a sweat-shined bald head bared by the polite gesture.<br><br>“Ladies,” he smiled.&nbsp; “I – I hope you can forgive the intrusion.&nbsp; I was hoping for a few moments of your time, and – well, I hoped not arriving empty-handed might endear me enough to be able to join you for some tea and... some candid conversation.”<br><br>He gave a small, tight frown.&nbsp; “I fear this town is going to become less tolerant of its scientifically minded denizens.&nbsp; In the past, we have endured by sticking together.&nbsp; I hope you would be willing to hear me out, and … if my proposals are not to your liking, that we can part with mutual respect, at least.”<br><br>He scratched at his scalp, looking almost nervous before them.&nbsp; Certainly, he was coming as a supplicant rather than respected town elder.&nbsp; After a moment, he seemed to remember. <br><br>“Oh, and I have brought bread.”&nbsp; He moved to offer it, blushing lightly.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phaia</strong> on <strong>20-03-2013, 22:42:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1217.photobucket.com/albums/dd394/Vithe_rothe/Doomtown/Doomtown371_zps291b515a.jpg)</div> <br><br><br><strong>Name:</strong><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size"> <span style="font-family: comic sans ms;" class="bbc_font">Lady Elisabeth Boyle</span></span><br><strong>Faction:</strong> Member of the Collegium.<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 3rd, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> 'The London Royal Apothecary'<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Agatha and Onneca<br><hr> <br><br>Elisabeth was laughing with her friends as Agatha squirmed just a bit. She could also see the looks pass between Onneca and Agatha and she decided that for far too long those two had danced around their feelings and she may just have to take them both to hand about it. <br><br>As she refilled their cups giving Agatha a grin about her flame hair, Professor Hardinger walked up. Her green eyes widen as he presented himself, this was the man that held sway over the bunch over at the Colleguim he was normally confident and at times unbending but here and now he looked worried. What was even stranger was that he had approached her and the other ladies? She knew from bits and pieces she had heard that the daily tea was some how reassuring to everyone. A sign of normalcy in a hard land.<br><br>She nodded to The Professor, "Of course Professor Hardinger please have a seat" Elisabeth moved her own a bit closer to Onncea so the Professor Hardinger could put his chair between her own and Agatha. Her way of making a point to them both. As the man pulled up a chair and she waved a hand to Onneca. "I do not believe you have been formally Introduced to Senorita Onneca de Goni. She is a dear friend and is the provider for the lovely honey you and the others enjoyed so much. Onneca this is Professor Oswald Hardinger, Chairman of the Colleguim and an elder of the town."<br><br>She poured a cup of tea for the professor and then took the bread and cut it into several thick slices and spread butter over one and added honey and offered it to him. Letting the other ladies digest what he had just spoken. She buttered several more slices and sat back. Her blue blouse snugly fitting across her bosom, she turned to let her green eyes look at the Professor and arched an eyebrow, "are you not over reacting a bit sir...yes we could end up with Nash Bilton as sheriff but I am sure he and the mayor know the value of all of our shops"<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>22-03-2013, 08:12:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/53/Onnecamug3.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Onneca de Goni<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 3, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> The London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Agatha, Elisabeth, Oswald<br><hr><br>Onneca cleaned up her act as Oswald joined them there at tea. There was no talking about tawdry novels while the gentlemen were about. She pretended to be talking about the feminine and meaningless things that most must have mistaken their gatherings for. "A knitting hoop makes tea cosies so easy. We could make cosies for the whole town, and if there are extras, we can tie a ribbon on to make a hat for a little doggie." And then, as if she had not seen him pacing by, "Oh! Buenos dias, Professor Hardinger." Onneca's mischievous smile was not much different from her shy smile. They were both bashfully playful, but one was at her own expense, and the other, Professor Hardinger's.<br><br>"The sun is so bright today," she noticed, and accepted a refill on her tea with gentle modesty. That mischievous smile that couldn't quite be suppressed hid under the brim of her sun hat as though Oswald might detect what she was up to. It wasn't overly encouraged for a woman to have a sense of humor. But Elisabeth would know it, and Agatha knew her equally well. Even as the seating arrangement changed to bring her place across from and adjacent to Agatha into question, she carried on as though nothing were unusual. Just a scoot closer to Agatha would give them so much more room at the table, wouldn't it? But she couldn't, she just couldn't. Flowers had been exchanged and now she was in full denial. They could be tied down to the same chair and Onneca would find a way to cohabitate unobtrusively. It was an obstacle that neither of them seemed willing or able to surmount.<br><br>"Si, I am the honey seller. I do not think anyone thinks of me as a scientist," Onneca admitted to the Professor. "But Lady Boyle and Señorita Dunwich are my very best friends. They can count on Señorita de Goni to always be there. We are familia." She flashed her warmest smile to the ladies around the table, and then turned to Oswald, her brow high with a delicate question. In her gentle way, she continued to tease him. "Is this bread good with tea?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>23-03-2013, 07:54:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5a/Agatha-avi.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Agatha Dunwich<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 3, 1876&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Onneca, Elizabeth, Oswald<br><hr>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Elizabeth wasn’t always as subtle as she thought she was and Agatha knew exactly what she was doing when she moved to place Professor Hardinger between Agatha and herself, but it was all she could do not to snicker at Onneca’s change of topic to lace cosies for dogs.&nbsp; Her friend had a subtlety of her own and a wit that both Elizabeth and Agatha so enjoyed.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“Professor Hardinger.” Agatha greeted the man not unkindly.&nbsp; They had their differences, but they were philosophical in nature and nothing more.&nbsp; She thought him a decent fellow even if she never said it out loud.&nbsp; She flickered a glance at the shaded smile of Onneca, her emerald eyes dancing with mirth.&nbsp; “They would look absolutely precious.” She agreed about the doggy hats.&nbsp; Elizabeth however seemed to be taking this visit ever more seriously.&nbsp; Agatha did wish to hear what Oswald was so worried about, but could not waste an opportunity to watch him squirm a little.&nbsp; He was more than a little discombobulated at having to join them for tea.&nbsp; So instead of delving right into the conversation as he wished she took a moment to slowly butter her bread and delicately pour the honey over it.&nbsp; The glistening liquid drizzled in a thin stream that Agatha took higher and higher until the spoon she dripped if from was at her eye level.&nbsp; It looked absolutely delicisious in its golden perfection.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“Why do you think that is the case Professor?” She finally asked still drizzling honey from the spoon.&nbsp; What she really wanted to ask was…What do you want?<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ciosa</strong> on <strong>24-03-2013, 02:07:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6f/Oswald.png)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Oswald Hardinger<br><strong>Faction:</strong> The Collegium (Chairman)<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 3rd, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> The London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Agatha, Elisabeth, Onneca<br><hr>“Thank you,” said Harding, bowing his head, genuinely grateful for the invitation to join them.&nbsp; Even if he had openly asked for one, he still clearly felt quite the intruder, and his eyes brightened a bit at the introduction to Onneca do Goni.&nbsp; “An introduction I've been hoping to have the honor of for some time,” he said.&nbsp; There was no idle flattery in the compliment; instead his voice seemed to brim with academic intrigue, and he nodded at the mention of the honey.&nbsp; “Indeed,” he agreed.&nbsp; “Enjoyed a great deal.&nbsp; There was a … a fracas in the mess hall at the Collegium, yesterday, when the chemistry Chair liberated the last of the honey for some purpose in his experiments.&nbsp; You would have thought he'd carried off Helen of Troy, for the row it caused.”&nbsp; He blushed a bit at the word 'elder,' touching his greying beard a bit self-consciously, but nodded to Elisabeth in gratitude.<br><br>“Buenos dias,” he returned the greeting.&nbsp; His accent was accentuated with more of a classical Spanish dialect then the regional accents of Central America, and then he glanced back towards the Town Hall, perhaps wondering how good a day it might actually be.&nbsp; He returned her smile, charmed by it, unaware of the humor at his expense.&nbsp; He took the tea as well, pulling it close without sipping from it as yet.&nbsp; His gaze lingered on it for a moment, gathering his thoughts, but his gaze flicked back up when she mentioned that no one thought of her as a scientist.<br><br>“Oh, I must protest,” he said, with a small shake of his head.&nbsp; “Phelps forwarded me a particular thesis written on <em>Sesbania punicea</em> that had been circulated to him from L.L. Langstroth, and your hypothesis, your articulation of the potential devastation Spanish Gold could wreak upon the already tenuous balance of the shattered ecosystem of the Great Maze - “&nbsp; He was speaking with his hands, naturally forgetting his reserved as his scientific curiosity and excitement rose to the fore, then seemed to remember all at once he was a guest at morning tea and not engaged in a scientific debate within the cloister of the Collegium.&nbsp; “I believe you are <em>quite</em> the scientist,” he said softly.&nbsp; “And... ah... the sun is lovely.”&nbsp; His cheeks were reddening, and he plucked at his coat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, smiling to Elisabeth and Agatha when she referred to them as 'familia.'&nbsp; <br><br>He floundered a bit at the question of the bread.&nbsp; “I have... never had it before,” he admitted.&nbsp; “The baker assured me it was popular and... well, it seemed unimaginably rude to invite myself to your tea and not bear at least some small contribution.”<br><br>He nodded gratefully at Agatha's contribution, and the artful arrangement of honey on the sliced bread.&nbsp; He took the tea back to his lap, taking a small breath, then turned back to the sobering questions of his opinion on the state of Gomorra and the question of Nash Bilton.<br><br>“For many years, J.P. Coleman sheltered the Collegium from the interests of Sweetrock,” he explained.&nbsp; “He took our concerns seriously investigated mishaps at our mines... far too many were certainly the product of malfunctioning inventions, but our relationship with him was amicable, and through it we could establish an amicable relationship with Sweetrock.”&nbsp; His voice had softened, his nervousness replaced with a deeper anguish.&nbsp; &nbsp;“Two nights ago, one of our own was murdered.&nbsp; Pierre Fontaine.&nbsp; He – you may have known his interest in music.&nbsp; He produced the wax recordings that I understand are becoming popular.&nbsp; But his true interest was underwater exploration.&nbsp; He had produced an underwater vessel, a suit capable of allowing him to breath beneath the waves, even a system to safely allow for excavation of ghostrock from underwater mines.&nbsp; Remarkable contributions, all, and … I can't remember a day in the last six years he wasn't thumbing through <em>20,000 Leagues.</em>”&nbsp; He chuckled, then his eyes lifted, gleaming with moisture.&nbsp; “The Maze Rats discovered his vessel, and cut the line providing him air while he worked to excavate his mine.&nbsp; When he tried to surface, the sharks that follow the <em>Typhoon</em> devoured him.”&nbsp; He swallowed heavily.&nbsp; “I – witnessed the entire event.&nbsp; Via the Collegium's telescopes.”&nbsp; He blew out a breath.&nbsp; “He will be missed.&nbsp; My concern... my concern was with the reaction of the mayor, and our appointed sheriff.&nbsp; He suggested that seeing any kind of justice done would be a waste of time.&nbsp; The Maze Rats only assault independent miners... and his efforts would be focused on damages inflicted upon Sweetrock's.&nbsp; The subtext was quite clear... though he mentioned he'd consider it in return for a suitable 'tax' and equipment from the Collegium's armories.”<br><br>He grit his teeth, then softened again.&nbsp; “Agatha... I know we have not always seen eye to eye.&nbsp; But I think I have made a sore mistake to turn aside your potential contributions.&nbsp; I fear that very soon the Collegium will be solely responsible for its own safety, and your expertise would be... most appreciated.”&nbsp; He lifted his eyes to meet hers, and there was genuine sincerity.&nbsp; "And I owe you an apology that I have not seen that truth sooner."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>26-03-2013, 00:41:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5a/Agatha-avi.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Agatha Dunwich<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 3, 1876&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Onneca, Elizabeth, Oswald<br><hr>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Agatha glanced towards Onneca when Oswald mentioned her thesis on Sesbania punicea.&nbsp; She had not known that Onneca had written and published a thesis.&nbsp; She would have to read it soon.&nbsp; It wasn’t that she thought Onneca was incapable of it, far from it actually.&nbsp; Onneca was extremely smart, but she liked to remain understated and often under appreciated by the townsfolk.&nbsp; It did not seem in her nature to bring attention to herself the way an academic paper could in certain circles.&nbsp; The idea that she had published a scientific paper only made her more attractive in Agatha’s eyes.&nbsp; She resolved to ask her about it very soon.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Agatha had often thought that Oswald Hardinger was overly dramatic when it came to politics and her debates and frustrations with the man had always been philosophical in nature.&nbsp; His anguish and concern over Pierre’s death and the action of the Mayor and the Sweetrock Mine however put a sever damper on his admitting that she, Agatha Dunwich, was right and he, Professor Oswald Hardinger, was wrong. Still he was assuming a bit too much about her.&nbsp; Agatha did not often build or sell weapons.&nbsp; She did some work on commission and that is what they had often argued over.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“No apology is necessary Oswald.&nbsp; Building devices that hurt people is not something that I enjoy, but I understand the need to protect oneself.&nbsp; I do not like the idea that the Mayor is insisting on a tax for the protection that we all deserve.&nbsp; The Collegium has aided and protected this town more than once and to not return that favor is reprehensible at best.&nbsp; I do have something that I am working on however that could be of some help, but I do have to ask.&nbsp; Are you approving my acceptance into the Collegium?” She asked curiously taking a sip of her tea.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>30-03-2013, 06:12:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/53/Onnecamug3.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Onneca de Goni<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 3, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> The London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Agatha, Elisabeth, Oswald<br><hr><br>Onneca was examining her tea when Professor Hardinger began to describe one of her papers- yes, just one of several- and she didn't look up again until the conversation had rotated around the table to Aggy again. She was all decorum at tea, all appearances, regardless of how passionately Oswald spoke and how animated his hands became in adding gravity to his words. She was just a gentle lady, sipping her tea, even when she finally spoke up to say "I am for safer and less harmful ghostrock mining. I am not for revenge against Maze Rats."<br><br>Her eyes alighted sadly on Agatha. Onneca and machines went together like cats and rocking chairs. And weapons, while a regrettable necessity out West, were all the track the tailor's mind needed to resent what Oswald was asking. What he might be asking sweet Aggy to birth. "They remind me of the railroad camp," she put forward. "They are living on scraps. They do not have the things we have. Sometimes bad things happen because people are scared. If we can make peace with the Indians, it is a sign we can also live at peace with the Rats. They come from the same mothers. They want the same things that we do." So totally convinced in the goodness of a bunch of pirates, she cast a glance around the table, unabashed by how naive she was sounding. Ines would've been proud, or perhaps she would be rolling her eyes. It was a very fine line sometimes.<br><br>"I remember when the railroad officers would come into the camp because something had been stolen. Sometimes they would beat a boy in hopes one would confess. I think, sometimes, nobody had stolen anything, or maybe the railroad workers had done it. It did not matter, because we were garbage." A slender brow gave a telling quirk of emotion beneath the shadow of a fine hat, just the sort of thing that if stolen would've resulted in a beating. "And we grew up hating them. And now we are more rich than those men ever were, and we wanted nothing to do with them. And, creo que, pienso que si, we are burdened to do better. This is what I think."<br><br>Without breaking decorum, she settled her teacup on a doily she had made by hand, and folded her hands politely down in her lap, and looked across to see how her ideas settled on Elisabeth.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phaia</strong> on <strong>01-04-2013, 04:44:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1217.photobucket.com/albums/dd394/Vithe_rothe/Doomtown/Doomtown371_zps291b515a.jpg)</div> <br><br><br><strong>Name:</strong><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size"> <span style="font-family: comic sans ms;" class="bbc_font">Lady Elisabeth Boyle</span></span><br><strong>Faction:</strong> Member of the Collegium.<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 3rd, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> 'The London Royal Apothecary'<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Agatha and Onneca<br><hr> <br><br>Elisabeth calmly stirred a bit of honey into her tea and listened to Professor Hardinger. She glanced at Onncea and her lips curved in a smile that hinted that she would soon know exactly what the woman had written on. Elisabeth herself had done a couple of papers back in England so she knew what it could mean but she really should not let her expectations cloud her mind, since she had never considered that Onneca would have published a paper or maybe even more then one.<br><br>The Professor spoke of Pierrre and the maze rats and then lead up to what he really wanted to talk about but stopped short. It was clear to her the Professor had something he was struggling with beyond what he was suggesting. She nodded when Agatha asked about being part of the Collegium. <br><br>As Onneca spoke up she listened and tilted her head in that way that was sexy but also meant she was deep in thought. She tossed her head a bit getting an errant strand of hair out of fair face and took a sip of her tea. Her tea was a closely guarded secret that she had shipped in from her family. A blend that came from India and was highly prized and hard to get. Her mind shifted through what she had heard and hadn't heard.<br><br>"First off Professor Hardinger, I am Officially as of this moment sponsoring Both Miss Dunwich and Senorita de Gonni for membership in the Collegium. I have that right under the charter and would like to have their membership approval done as soon as possible"<br><br>She let her green eyes linger with Onneca as she digested what the other woman had said, "You know Professor, Senorita de Gonni may have a point here. Many things have been tried to handle and deal with the 'Maze rats' but I do not recall any one actually having a face to face set down... It would seem to me that gaining them as an ally would be far better then trying to fight them...better for both The Collegium and the Maze Rats. The rumors I have heard about the 'Rats' makes me wonder if they do not already have an ally here in Gomorra and at the very least it may be easier to 'pay' them for extra Protection. Maybe its time we look at a greater picture and see if the parts together are stronger then when separate"<br><br>"The ladies and I were also discussing whom would be best for sherriff, I favor Deputy Hunter myself but Onncea has pointed out he may be too mild for the job... there is another possiblity but that would depend on Agatha. Her friend Christian "Spooky" Specter is in town, he is a famed gunfighter and would not have any connections to anyone here to start with. Perhaps he could be convinced to serve for a short term at least until proper elections could be set up."<br><br>"I plan on talking with The Judge later today on this matter and see if A meeting of the buisness owners can be arranged. And I suspect Professor that you have a strong opinion on this since I do not think it was just Pierre's death and the possible problem with the mayor and a new sherriff that brought you to our tea."<br>&nbsp;<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ciosa</strong> on <strong>02-04-2013, 05:10:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6f/Oswald.png)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Oswald Hardinger<br><strong>Faction:</strong> The Collegium (Chairman)<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 3rd, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> The London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Agatha, Elisabeth, Onneca<br><hr>He blew out a breath, and nodded.&nbsp; Instead of arguing point for point, the lead scientist was well used to Socratic discussions.&nbsp; When he wasn't speaking, he leaned forward, listening intently.&nbsp; He sipped at his tea, and nibbled at the bread, only briefly distracted from his intense focus by an appreciative glance at the bread, the honeyed slice's exquisite taste taking him by surprise for a moment.&nbsp; Then he returned his focus to Agatha, gaze shifting over to Onneca as she spoke, and finally settling on Elisabeth with a smile.&nbsp; <br><br>He smiled wider as Elisabeth made her faith in her friends clear, and then returned to address Agatha's final question.&nbsp; “You and I – I believe we have not always seen eye to eye, and further, but I believe the things we can find ourselves agreeing on far outnumbers the things we will argue about,” he admitted.&nbsp; “My chief concern right now – over pursuing some sort of revenge upon the Maze Rats – is to see that the members of the Collegium are <em>protected</em> and secure.&nbsp; I have made it clear to Findley and Bilton that I will be expecting the members of the Collegium to vote with their conscience, at the election, not dictating or suggesting who they should or should not be voting for.&nbsp; I personally cannot countenance a Sheriff who expects the law to be enforced when he is suitably financially encouraged to do so.”&nbsp; He rubbed at his temples.&nbsp; “My fear is that there will be... reprisals for my boldness, and for my refusal to tow the 'company line.'&nbsp; Intimidation, and extortion, and that those most vulnerable would be those who make their living in the city and are either members of the Collegium or... friends of said members.”&nbsp; He nodded towards Elisabeth.&nbsp; “It is with that in mind – and even more, because I believe some fresh perspective, some fresh blood will help give us a perspective we have been lacking of late.”&nbsp; His gaze slipped between Agatha and Onneca, and he leaned back in his chair.&nbsp; <br><br>“So I am eager to extend membership to you both.&nbsp; Both for the arguments you can bring to bear, the new ideas, and the contributions you can make to science.&nbsp; I am also – making a change to one of our policies in the past.&nbsp; Previously, we've only allowed those members of the Collegium who've made significant contributions to the Collegium to actually live on the mesa – but we will be renovating a few of the rooms for our members to stay on an emergency basis.&nbsp; Nothing terribly comfortable, I'm afraid, but... should you have reason to be concerned for your safety, it is our intention to provide a safe place to sleep, if nothing else.”&nbsp; He cracked his knuckles, still looking uneasy and unsettled, then rubbing his hands together.<br><br>“And – as for the Maze Rats – I... I cannot help but think that you are right.&nbsp; That perhaps at least diplomatic overtures, some kind of parley with them might stem the tide of bloodshed.&nbsp; I doubt very much the Town Council would approve any such overtures, however... but that doesn't mean they shouldn't be accomplished.”&nbsp; He pursed his lips and frowned.&nbsp; “Ideally, we could find a third party who might be able to send some sort of message, requesting a discussion with one of the representatives.&nbsp; I know very little about them, beyond that they have killed dozens of miners, all of them independent.&nbsp; Perhaps there is something which drives their brutality, and we could discover the reason for so senseless a bloodshed, and put a stop to it.”<br><br>He frowned at the mention of Hunter.&nbsp; “I like the man very much but... in the manner that I enjoy his company at tea, and I admire his respect for the law.&nbsp; But... as you say, he may lack the necessary intestinal fortitude for the position.&nbsp; While I like the idea of a meeting of the town's business owners … Findley is the head of the Gomorra Business Council.&nbsp; I've no doubt he has intentions to call one, and soon, if nothing else to drum up support for Bilton.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>05-04-2013, 15:48:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5a/Agatha-avi.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Agatha Dunwich<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 3, 1876&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Onneca, Elizabeth, Oswald<br><hr>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Agatha caught the look from Onneca before she spoke.&nbsp; For all of their friendship they often differed on the value of technology.&nbsp; She had offered once to upgrade her Bodega with all sorts of wonderful inventions to make her dressmaking and honey gathering easier.&nbsp; It was the first time since they were kids that Onneca had been mad at her.&nbsp; They hadn’t spoken for a week.&nbsp; They had come up with an unspoken accord eventually but would likely never agree completely on the role of technology in the new west.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Agatha tried not to think of the bad times at the railroad camps and for Onneca to bring them up was telling.&nbsp; She didn’t speak of such things unless she thought it was important.&nbsp; Agatha had to wonder what her friend was thinking she had meant by saying she had something that could help.&nbsp; Did Onneca really think that her first thought was for vengeance and death?&nbsp; That made green eyes cloud with sadness.&nbsp; They were made ever more so by the awful memories of the railroad officers.&nbsp; She was glad that Onneca’s eyes moved to Elizabeth’s and not her own.&nbsp; Yes Agatha was capable of making weapons, the ideas seemed to pop into her head often, but so did lots of other things; automatic clothes washers, dusting devices, fans and portable ice boxes to keep your food and drinks cool on a long trip.&nbsp; That didn’t even begin to describe the body massagers and other “comfort” devices she built for the discerning customer.&nbsp; Why couldn’t everyone understand sometimes there was a need for protecting yourself and the things that you love.&nbsp; Agatha had learned that lesson the hard way.&nbsp; It seemed Oswald was learning the same lesson now.<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Agatha’s tea sat forgotten on the lace doily.&nbsp; Her happy morning ritual had been thoroughly disrupted with dark thoughts and concerns.&nbsp; &nbsp;She should not have been surprised at Elizabeth’s sponsorship, but was anyway.&nbsp; It caused her to jump slightly in her seat and once again pay attention to the co0nversation at hand. <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“The Maze Rats?&nbsp; I did not think they were one cohesive group.&nbsp; I thought they were lots of different gangs.” She said wondering if she was wrong.&nbsp; “So talking to them may do some good for one group but not another.&nbsp; That doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be tried, but perhaps there are ways of protecting people without the need for bullets.” She suggested.&nbsp; The light of an idea cast away her temporary darkness. <br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“Yes, something that could stop a man without hurting him.”&nbsp; Okay not hurt him much. She realized she was about to ramble on about more than anyone at the table, with the exception of Oswald, would be interested in so she stopped herself until the man spoke once more.&nbsp; “Does anyone know how to get in touch with any of them?&nbsp; If I had my rotocopter up and running I could find them easy enough, but I do not have the first idea as to where to look without it.” She asked.&nbsp; Finding the Maze Rats sounded like a grand adventure. ‘One befitting a flame haired vixen.’ she thought with a smile that would have made even Spooky concerned.&nbsp; He had seen that look before.&nbsp; The year before Agatha arrived in Gomorra was a void in her history that she hadn’t spoken about to anyone.&nbsp; She was trying to leave that part of her life behind, but she found that it still called to her from time to time.&nbsp; This was one of those times.<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“I would be honored to accept membership into the Collegium, but I will not leave Gomorra.&nbsp; I was forced out of my home once and I’m not going to let that happen again.&nbsp; I just won’t.” She said emphatically, forgetting only Oswald and Spooky were aware of why she left Deer Creek.&nbsp; It was something she had kept even from her closest friends, something that still hurt to dwell on for long.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>08-04-2013, 22:05:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/53/Onnecamug3.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Onneca de Goni<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 3, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> The London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Agatha, Elisabeth, Oswald<br><hr><br>Onneca just smiled sadly when Lady Boyle extended her sponsorship. She seemed to realize how disappointing a reaction that was, and tried to dress it up with the kind of flustered embarrassment that came naturally, but the dimples were not there. If it hadn't been for Agatha taking the attention off of her, things might've become very uncomfortable at the table as everyone was forced to realize that Onneca would be refusing membership. If she merely disliked the Collegium, that would be easy; she could pray for those she disliked, in the hopes that God would show them the error of their ways. There was no turning this one over to the Lord.<br><br>"Sometimes I see people from the Maze when I am making observations," she said in answer to Agatha. "I do not know if they are pirates or not. We leave each other alone." Without seeming to analyze how precariously close such a scenario might be to the one that'd cost Pierre Fontaine his life, she pressed on, possessed of a dogmatic sort of courage common to unlikely martyrs. "I do not think they would want to talk to me, señor. But if I leave a notebook, they will pick it up. My things are never there when I go back for them." There was no anger, just weariness, as though she were dealing with petulant children and not thieving brigands.<br><br>"I am not sure what they do with them. But, if we think of the pirates like a hive- un momento-" She slipped the doily out from under her tea and nudged it gently out into the center of the table to illustrate something. "The queen is somewhere here," she said, indicating the starbust whorl in the center. "She is in charge, but she does not tell anyone what to do. They know what to do. The workers are acting in her interest." With a glossy fingernail, she traced the complex lines of the lace leading from the edge into the center, much like the lines of the Maze. "If you wish to reach the queen, you do not reach in and grab her. You give the workers something to bring to her."<br><br>"To get rid of ants, they use H<sub>3</sub>BO<sub>3</sub>. It is mixed with sugar and water. The workers bring it to the queen because it is sweet. If it was only the powder, they would see it is a trap and throw it away." Her gears were turning, not to puzzle out her idea, but to translate it from Spanish into English without the help of her books. "So, en este etapa, the notebook would have something the worker pirates will want to bring to the queen pirate." She lost track of what she was doing for a moment as she recalled a pulp story about a pirate queen. She put it out of her head. "Something they will be rewarded for. And there is a language. A hidden language, ah, a <em>cipher.</em> When it is broken, it will be the message you want to give them. If it is good, the workers will never realize."<br><br>Having done all she wanted with the doily, she replaced her tea on it. The idea of a Maze Rat queen still had her flustered. <em>¿Qué pasa si me capturan? </em>she wondered, <em>¿Si yo estoy ante la reina pirata? Dios mío. </em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phaia</strong> on <strong>19-04-2013, 00:07:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i1217.photobucket.com/albums/dd394/Vithe_rothe/Doomtown/Doomtown371_zps291b515a.jpg)</div> <br><br><br><strong>Name:</strong><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size"> <span style="font-family: comic sans ms;" class="bbc_font">Lady Elisabeth Boyle</span></span><br><strong>Faction:</strong> Member of the Collegium.<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 3rd, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> 'The London Royal Apothecary'<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Agatha and Onneca<br><hr> <br><br>Elisabeth watched her friends after she had made the offer to sponsor them both for membership. Agatha seemed surprised but a certain light gleamed in her eyes. She had felt quite slighted that Oswald had removed her from 'The Colleguim'. Agatha had never really mentioned what had happened but Elisabeth had found out, prying it from other members and with this change by the Professor she was very happy to sponsor Agatha properly for membership.<br><br>Onneca though was going to be a problem. She knew her friend well enough to read the smile and face of the lovely Mexican. Onneca had a problem with hard science, things that could injure, hurt or even kill another and it ran very deep. Elisabeth loved Onneca like a sister but there were times she was too sweet and naive and stubborn. She knew her friend would turn down her sponsorship and that no matter what was said or even how forcefully it was put forth she would not become a member. Which meant Elisabeth would have to make sure Onneca was protected in other ways.<br><br>Elisabeth knew the offer from Oswald went even deeper then he let on. She had had more contact with him, oft times fiery debates on various subjects and the man was not the type to fear for himself or other members. So whatever he knew and did not wish to share was volcanic and meant that something had happened in the private meeting that had been held after the town meeting. All this flashed past her mind in rapid fire sequences as she sipped her tea.<br><br>Straightening her shoulders a hard look glinted in her green eyes. She was a Boyle and a member of the Royal Society and both had fought for their beliefs and rights. Fought and died, but always they had won in the end. "Professor none of us will abandon what we have built here, nor will we allow others to be harmed for standing up for what they or we think is correct. You do though have a point and what you have not said is more telling then what you did. So I will offer up a suggestion to my friends. Agatha I believe you have a lot of room at your house and your friend is there as well. I would be pleased if you would let Onneca and myself stay with you for a few days until we all see how this plays out. There is a Strength in numbers."<br><br>She rested her hand on Onneca's as she looked at the woman, her look was such that made it clear Onneca would allow this compromise. "I would consider this a personal favor Onneca and one that would make me feel much better about you and what is playing out within the town. I know you will not wish to join The Collegium but you can still humor me for a few days in this matter."<br><br>"Professor Hardinger, Oswald," Elisabeth had almost never referred to the man by his given name. She was of that English way that shown great respect for a scientist, "My instints and growing up surrounded by Lords and others that handled government, tells me that you know and fear more then you are letting on. Whatever it is we will all handle it. In a few hours with extra ghostrock I can have several potions of healing and others of sleep gas. I do need the Ghostrock though since my supply is almost gone."<br><br>She was already preparing herself, her mind was sharp, very smart as she turned her head, her yellow hair framing her lovely face, "Professor you need to speak with the Owner of that new shop, 'Valentine's Oddities' from what I have heard he is an inventor and a scientist as well and he should also be given access to the Collegium. When you speak with him tell him to stop by and speak with me, perhaps I can help in some way."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ciosa</strong> on <strong>27-04-2013, 19:03:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6f/Oswald.png)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Oswald Hardinger<br><strong>Faction:</strong> The Collegium (Chairman)<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 3rd, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> The London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Agatha, Elisabeth, Onneca<br><hr>Oswald considered, tipping his hat back to rub at a pate shined with sweat.&nbsp; “I can only say what I have heard by rumor,” he admitted.&nbsp; “But from what I understand, the Maze Rats are many Captains, and many ships, all of them answering to one woman.&nbsp; But they are not in conflict with one another, as I understand it.&nbsp; There are perhaps… rivalries?&nbsp; But not conflict.”<br><br>He rubbed at his chin.&nbsp; “I know that Coleman asserted that the Maze Rats most certainly had spies within the city.&nbsp; He’d noticed a trend – a trend in assaults on the mines, and he asked for a scientific mind to verify it.&nbsp; There are many reasons to assault a mine – and plenty of reports of entire mines with their workers found dead, within, or simply absent.&nbsp; But he’d kept careful record of the number which had been <em>murdered,</em> in which there was conclusive proof of foul play, and then that smaller number which could be directly attributable to either Black Jack’s raiders, or the Maze Rats.&nbsp; It was… a small pool, from a mathematical perspective, but the fact there was enough data to draw conclusions at all is a testament to just how horrific the conditions the miners of the Maze face truly are.&nbsp; I … apologies, I’m digressing again.&nbsp; The sum point of this exercise was – the Raiders and Maze Rats both have a presence of some kind in Gomorra.&nbsp; The Raiders are only attacking mines which belong to Sweetrock.&nbsp; And, in turn, the Maze Rats are only attacking mines owned by independent miners.&nbsp; Their reasons – well, the Maze Rats reasons – are yet beyond me.&nbsp; I think everyone in town has some idea as to Blackjack’s motivations.”<br><br>He nodded at her acceptance, giving a pleased smile.&nbsp; “I am not asking you to leave Gomorra,” he promised.&nbsp; I’m asking you accept … refuge, if you should need it.&nbsp; If a man threatens your life – er, a person, I mean… after seeing Ms. Boyle’s somewhat overenthusiastic zeal for her firearms, I shouldn’t mean to presume that only a man is capable of …”&nbsp; He paused, shaking his head, starting anew.&nbsp; “If you are threatened, it would be my hope you would retreat to that refuge, notify your allies in the Collegium, and we can return in force, ensuring your protection.&nbsp; It is entirely too easy for people in Gomorra to simply disappear, and my point… my point is that I very much don’t wish to see any of you disappearing.”<br><br>His eyebrows knit together.&nbsp; “Which sounds vaguely… threatening, but that was not at all my intention.&nbsp; I simply mean to custodian your well-being as much as I am capable.”<br><br>Then his attention turned fully towards Onneca, as the soft spoken Mexican began to interject in her own quiet way.&nbsp; He cocked his head as she spoke, his eyes falling to the dolly, growing thoughtful as she continued to elaborate a plan.&nbsp; The notion was a simple enough one – although elegant in its simplicity.&nbsp; He leaned on his hand, chewing slowly on his fingers.<br><br>“In that case, we’d need… a message.&nbsp; And a cipher.&nbsp; And some sense of what the Maze Rats want and… what it is they’re looking for.”&nbsp; His brows were knit together, as lost as Agatha had been a moment ago, he was now - his own wheels turning, his own thoughts brewing.&nbsp; “A code that the queen could unlock, but… no others could.”&nbsp; His brow knit.&nbsp; “More difficult, as we know so little about her…”<br><br>His gaze slid back up Onneca’s arm and to her face, once again impressed.&nbsp; “If I might call upon you at your shop, later?&nbsp; To discuss the invitation of membership?&nbsp; Even if you are not interested in protection, I would like to discuss your writings, your observations.&nbsp; I would very much care to see them distributed, and some recognition for your contributions.”&nbsp; He was hesitant, not wanting to intrude much more than he already.&nbsp; <br><br>He smiled at Elisabeth’s suggestion.&nbsp; “It would do a great deal to put me at my ease, and Miss Boyle’s growing obsession with firearms.”&nbsp; He smiled fondly, though, his eyes twinkling ever so slightly.&nbsp; Then she was doing her best to reassure him, and when she mentioned her quantities of ghostrock, he raised an eyebrow.<br><br>“It is not your supply of ghostrock that worries me,” he answered.&nbsp; “But the other component of a philosopher’s stone.&nbsp; We can find ghostrock, but… the other is not so easily replenished.”&nbsp; He shook his head.&nbsp; “Yes, there is more.&nbsp; But so much of it is suspicion and accusation, so much of it is simply… conjecture for which I have no proof.&nbsp; It’s not my intention to ready ourselves for some kind of… war.&nbsp; I just want to ensure that if the situation deteriorates, we will not be caught unprepared.”&nbsp; He rubbed at his temples, then blinking a bit at the mention of a new arrival.<br><br>“Oh?&nbsp; I haven’t heard of him.&nbsp; What has he published?”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>29-04-2013, 00:48:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5a/Agatha-avi.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Agatha Dunwich<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 3, 1876&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Onneca, Elizabeth, Oswald<br><hr>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Agatha looked both surprised and concerned that Onneca had been out on the mesa alone.&nbsp; Sure Agatha was often own alone on the Mesa, but she was always armed when she did so and she was fairly certain Onneca was not. “Maybe next time take Elizabeth or I will you?&nbsp; It would be nice to observe these Maze people.&nbsp; Perhaps watching them will give us insights into their hive and queen.”&nbsp; Onneca would not likely accept someone along for protection. She would dismiss the idea in her understated way and do as she pleased.&nbsp; They were all that way, Onneca, Elizabeth and Agatha, strong women that went their own ways.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;“Perhaps this Maze Queen would prefer to be contacted by a woman rather than one of the men of the collegium.&nbsp; We may be thought to be less threatening.”&nbsp; She was under no delusions as to the danger of a woman and the Rats have been perfectly willing to murder innocents. If a woman was in charge she would be no less ruthless than a man to stay in charge.&nbsp; The idea of the Cypher was intriguing as was that idea that they answered to this mythical woman.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; Agatha visibly brightened at Elizabeth’s idea.&nbsp; “That is a wonderful idea.&nbsp; It has been some time since you both visited my home and there is room enough.”&nbsp; &nbsp;With Spooky there her home would be filled to the brim with Onneca and Elizabeth too, but it would not be an issue for a few days.&nbsp; The idea filled her with happy thoughts of busying herself around the kitchen for the four of them.&nbsp; Agatha didn’t often get to cook for more than herself, but given the opportunity she quite enjoyed it.&nbsp; “You have to say yes.” She said to Onneca adding her own charm to Elizabeth’s in order to wear any protestations down before they started.&nbsp; “I would every much enjoy having you both stay at my home.”&nbsp; And she would, not just for selfish reasons.&nbsp; &nbsp;Much of the rest of the conversation was fading into the background as she was began crafting plans, supper menus and cyphers in her head.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>10-05-2013, 08:37:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Agatha’s Occidental Delights</div><div class="spoiler_body"> <div align="center">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/a/ae/Occidental-banner.jpg)</div>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/archive/9/93/20130302023536%21Steampunk_Shop.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/archive/b/ba/20130302023555%21Steampunk-workshop.jpg)</div>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Agatha’s Occidental Delights is known throughout Gomorra as the place to go for outstanding clockwork gadgets and affordable mad science marvels.&nbsp; Agatha’s does not known to build those for the right price, it is a shop intended to make the harsh life in the maze a little easier.&nbsp; Agatha’s has a large selection of watches, clocks, portable freezinators for keeping water and food (and beer) cool and safe from spoiling, motorized hand fans, sun-activated shadinator spectacles and much, much more.&nbsp; &nbsp;There are rumors of special delights that Agatha sells as well, toys of an adult nature for adding pleasure and adventure to more intimate entertainments.<br><br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Agatha’s Occidental Delights is located sandwiched between other shops along the main street in Gomorra.&nbsp; It is a modest sized shop with a large window that displays some of Agatha’s more eye catching wares.&nbsp; A string of copper bells announce any new customers entering the establishment.&nbsp; The shop consists of the showroom floor that is packed with wondrous items like those out of Smith &amp; Robards.&nbsp; The packed shelves of whirling and chiming gizmos can give the shop a buzzing, jumbled feel but all of the shelves are labeled by category of invention and each item as a description of what its intended uses are.&nbsp; &nbsp;There is a cash register at the counter with a sign that reads “Ghost Rock Welcome as Payment”.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The shop is run by Maria Campos, a Mexican immigrant. Maria has a good head on her shoulders and a pretty face that draws in customers.&nbsp; &nbsp;Maria knows about the “special” items that Agatha has been selling discretely to the local brothels and select individuals in town and is the first line of defense for inquiries.&nbsp; If a customer hands her a business card with Agatha’s pressed lipstick on the back she passes them on to Agatha who takes the sales from there.&nbsp; A young orphan, Matty has recently begun working around the shop helping Agatha and Maria whoever she can.&nbsp; The girl appears to be in study at the shop as much of the time as she is cleaning and polishing and running errands.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; The back of Agatha’s is the workshop.&nbsp; Anyone looking in would think it a disorganized disaster, but that is how Agatha likes it.&nbsp; She knows where everything is and where it goes and has a method of cataloging that borders on the insane.&nbsp; &nbsp;Half completed projects are tucked away all over the place as are rolls of blueprints for her mundane clockworks.&nbsp; A large safe sits in along the font wall of the workroom.&nbsp; There are all sorts of rumors as to what Agatha keeps in there. </div></div><hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/30/Darkaggy.jpg) </div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Agatha Dunwich<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 4th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Evening<br><strong>Location:</strong> Agatha’s Occidental Delights (Will be moving to Event Thread if created.)<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Harley <br><hr>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Agatha stood quite nimbly on the hitching post outside the store bearing her name, seemingly unaware of the precarious nature of her perch.&nbsp; Even the overly large and ornate gatling pistol holstered around her waist wasn’t throwing her balance.&nbsp; She was dress quite comfortably.&nbsp; Agatha had been conspiring about possible wardrobe modification with Onneca for the better part of a year now and they were starting to perfect a durable yet elegant set of clothing Agatha felt comfortable wearing at work.&nbsp; The job of a mad scientist wasn’t easy on long lengths of catchable clothing or soft fabrics that cut or caught fire easily.&nbsp; Counter to the style of the day, Agatha wore dark clothing for work, to hide stains and grease. She wore a single skirt that she could take on and off easy depending on whether it would be dangerous for her to wear while working around wheels and cogs or red hot flames.&nbsp; Her chemise was a dark chocolate and light enough to breath, while the corset that bound her waist was a black leather to protect her from fire, cut or impact.&nbsp; With all of its functionality it was still made to wrap her figure like a warm embrace and flatter her body in ways that made her feel pretty. Lately Agatha had taken to leaving her long hair down so it flowed over her shoulder in lazy ringlets.&nbsp; When she needed to for safety reasons she would bunch in up and pin it in place, but once her work was complete down it came once again.<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;And that was the way it was as she stood on her tip-toes along the wooden beam trying to attach the delicate wires into place on the electrodes of the fragile glass tube that scrolled across the lettering of her shop sign.&nbsp; She had been working on the Geissler Tube for months now getting it just right.&nbsp; It was why she was still at her store and not at home making dinner for her guests.&nbsp; &nbsp;Granted she had told her houseguests that she would be late in coming home this evening and was dying to see how the tube would look shining along Cross street once the sun went down.&nbsp; <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Placing a hand out to lean on one of the cross members of the covered walk in front of her store Agatha lifted one leg out behind her to balance looking as if she would tip at any moment, her face scrunched ever so slightly in concentration, her tongue peeking out the side of her wine colored lips willing the wire to slip into place. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;A couple of boys no better than twelve had found the sight intriguing to be sure and sauntered up behind her hoping to catch a glimpse of what might be revealed by a hovering skirt and outstretched silken leg.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kokaine</strong> on <strong>15-05-2013, 22:31:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i167.photobucket.com/albums/u133/kokotigress/Elliquiy/Doom%20Town/lg_492d6579-7614-4f3b-bc84-fda41030b5da_1217491714_donna_feldman-17_zpsb9e34e83.jpg)</div> <hr><strong>Name:</strong> Harley<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown to the public<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 4th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Evening<br><strong>Location:</strong> Agatha’s Occidental Delights<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Agatha<hr>The woman known to some only as Harley ambled along with a long legged swagger not commonly seen in those of the female persuasion. Dusty boots and trousers, not to mention a work shirt that had seen better days, let her blend in easily enough so long as she minded where she stepped. Harley tended to err on the side of caution where she could so that usually wasn't much of a problem. Or it hadn't been until yesterday anyhow. Her thoughts flashed to Rita and the whole scene over at the Golden Mare and she could only shake her head, a muted snort of laughter slipping free as she tried again to puzzle out how she'd gotten herself swept along into all of that. Didn't much make sense to her but then she was a sucker for a pretty face. <br><br>Harley had not but $2 to her name so there was no particular destination in mind as she moved along but then, that was nothin new with her. Her days were pretty much given to wandering and as such she'd made her way around much of the mesa as well as those surrounding. Funny thing was, even with as long as she'd been around this place she could count on her fingers the number of people in town who knew her name... well, the one she answered to anyhow. It was amusing to the native Texan, but it wasn't something she was much lookin' to change. Life round here was slow for her and that was the way she liked it. To many people got to thinkin' they knew you and trouble always seemed to follow.<br><br>Course, trouble seemed to be brewing for sure in Gomorrah what with the Sheriff's death and all. Funny thing was, to Harley's ears things seemed almost quiet on this particular evening. Almost too quiet. Which of course almost never meant anything good in her mind but then again, what did she know. She wasn't stupid but neither did she have one a them fancy type educations. Likely it was just boredom gettin to her, makin her restless and even edgy.<br><br>Focused inward as she was, Harley was surprised when she looked up to find herself coming toward the fancy part of town. A frown tried to pull at her and she almost turn right around but for some reason she resisted the urge and kept moving along until she came upon a couple boys takin' in the sights. She didn't really sneak up, they just weren't paying attention as she stopped just behind them to see what they were busy admirin. Unable to help herself, her eyes followed the length of that outstretched leg and she had to admit it certainly was a mighty fine view to take in. The gleam of that copper hair caught her attention though and instantly called to mind the image of a sly little fox. <br><br>Grinning suddenly she cleared her throat from behind the boys and angled her gaze down at them, "You boys needin' somethin' from the good scientist there?" Her brow arched for a moment, hoping they'd take the hint and scram, before she looked back up to Agatha and moved closer. Tilting her head back, she called up in amusement, "Is the air better up there or somethin' Miss?" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Crash</strong> on <strong>18-05-2013, 05:22:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/30/Darkaggy.jpg) </div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Agatha Dunwich<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 4th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Evening<br><strong>Location:</strong> Agatha’s Occidental Delights<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Harley <br><hr><br>&lt;Moved to Something Wicked Event Thread&gt;
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>18-05-2013, 23:37:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/53/Onnecamug3.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Onneca de Goni<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Unknown<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 3, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> The London Royal Apothecary<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>&nbsp; Agatha, Elisabeth, Oswald<br><hr><br>Her hand didn't withdraw from Elisabeth's. She nodded with her head down, conceding the point that she ought to stay with Agatha for a while. Better that the edict was handed down from Elisabeth than one of the busybodies who tried to set Onneca up with the eligible menfolk, and better that it was with Aggy, whom she knew and trusted perhaps better than anyone in this town. The line where Onneca would stand up for herself and put her foot down was hard to spot and it often moved around, usually in retreat. Her mother used to call it picking her battles. Others would call it being a doormat.<br><br>She'd been to Agatha's house, before. She'd always felt she'd been a little rude as a guest, too distant, not offering up enough of a compliment to her hostess. It wasn't envy, for they'd both come from the same place, and built so much for themselves through hard work and sacrifice. It wasn't the tension, as that urgent teenage attraction was buried under so much sand she would need a map and a compass to find even a drunken kiss. More than those things, it was the feeling of being courted. She liked for Agatha to work to impress her. She liked to hold to the illusion that it was still possible, and that they were both just pining, and that the rumors weren't true.<br><br>But so did Elisabeth, and that was what would make this time different.<br><br>"Disculpe- they really have a queen?" She'd let herself get caught up in a pulp-fueled flight of fantasy, where the West was won by swashbuckling vaqueros, pluck, and the power of love, and where the collision between pirate queen and generic everywoman was hot and heavy, distressed, and ended in tragic suicide, a pornography written by Shakespeare, where the old English was too oblique to be pornographic to the masses. She had a brief mental glimpse of a beekeeper floating face-down through the Maze, chewed by rats, but surely not- surely if she were good and sweet enough, she could get by on that. Pirates responded well to manners. Onneca's knees wiggled in her Sunday dress. "I will do anything I can to help. Money is not important. If we have peace, business will be much better."<br><br>"Si," she answered Agatha, "I mean, yes. I would like to stay. It will be just like before." The hand Elisabeth hadn't claimed touched lightly to Agatha's, to gently draw the tinker out of her imagination and flash a dimpled smile at her. "But, I like to keep busy. You must let me do things for you."<br><br>With her gifted flowers close to her chest, she stood and tickled her hostess with the soft petals as she kissed Elisabeth's cheek. "Gracias. I must open the bodega." It was a short morning tea, but Onneca was often guilty of the sin of cutting tea short whenever an unexpected guest sat down with them. Agoraphobia, that was what they would call it a hundred years from now, a social anxiety. Here and now, she was merely known as shy. "I would be happy for you to come by, señor. We can talk. I will look forward to it."<br><br>By the next day, she would be getting situated with her new housemates, and her agoraphobia. But for now, Onneca had a business to run, an uncertain future to think about, and wildflowers to put into water.<br><br><div align="center"><em>~(scene end for Onneca)~</em></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ciosa</strong> on <strong>14-06-2013, 23:01:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/65/Judgehawkins.png)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Judge Warwick<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 4, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Lunchtime<br><strong>Location:</strong> The Courthouse: Judge Warwick's office<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Marguerite Tuerny, Elisabeth Boyle<br><hr><strong>“That all presumes he’s willing to take a position as a deputy,”</strong> pointed out the Judge.&nbsp; <strong>”And more to the point, I’ve never met the man.&nbsp; I can’t imagine their deeds to be true.&nbsp; The last one I glanced at suggested he’d wrestled with a Mojave rattler.”</strong>&nbsp; He shook his head, bemused at the impossibility of such a suggestion.&nbsp; <strong>”If Hunter will take him on a deputy, that’s his choice.&nbsp; If I’d met him personally, spoken to him, and had a sense for his integrity, I would consider it.&nbsp; Bilton’s proven a reputation is a powerful thing.&nbsp; But if he has that kind of reputation – I doubt he’ll willingly play second fiddle to anyone.”</strong><br><br>He nodded at the mention of Nathan, growing thoughtful, dragged along by the gorgeous brunette and blond.&nbsp; It didn’t even quite sink in for him the appearance being suggested to everyone else on the street – or the <em>looks</em> he got from a few of the men of Gomorra as they passed.&nbsp; He looked a bit surprised when she mentioned she thought Nathan could take all the other men in a gunfight, and he smiled appreciatively.&nbsp; If nothing else, he appreciated the vote of confidence in a man he considered a friend.&nbsp; <br><br><strong>”All of which might well be true,”</strong> he said.&nbsp; <strong>”But the problem with any election campaign for Nathan is getting past that modesty.&nbsp; I’ve never seen the man in action, but – I know he survived quite the fall when he was checking on a mine at the owner’s request.&nbsp; Apparently he tumbled down the side of a mesa, into the water, and managed to climb free and get to a boat.&nbsp; That’s no easy task, and… were it me, I doubt I’d ever be willing to cross the bridge back into Gomorra again,”</strong> he said with a laugh.&nbsp; <strong>”So I have every respect for his tenacity.”</strong><br><br>He gave a chuckle at her exclamation at the smells coming from the Wafflehaus.&nbsp; He didn’t know the secret of Helga’s connections – the rail was not so nearby as Elisabeth seemed to think; the closest train station was Tombstone, and while the rail from Deadwood came far closer, the deliveries from it were sporadic, at best.&nbsp; Most of Gomorra was fed by stagecoaches that came from the South or the North – there was plenty of good farmland a few days north, in Oregon.&nbsp; Just as many supplies came in by boat as by coach, and those with money to spare usually preferred to entrust their packages to the Pony Express.<br><br>Still, he gave a warm smile at the mention of her seeing someone, and patted a hand over hers.&nbsp; <strong>”I’m glad someone’s caught your eye,”</strong> he said softly.&nbsp; <strong>”Though I’ll admit a women of your caliber… any man would scrutinize his worth.”</strong><br><br><div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/a/ad/Dorakoch.png/383px-Dorakoch.png)</div>He stepped through with the both of them into the busy Wafflehaus – highback redwood booths gave every table a sense of privacy, and a pretty, petite blond with bare shoulders and a cotton bodice waved at them.&nbsp; <strong>”Hi, Lady!&nbsp; Hi, Judge!”</strong>&nbsp; The wave of her hand drew the eyes of a half dozen patrons.&nbsp; The sixteen year old had matured rapidly, and her tanned, sweat-sheened bosom had little but thin cotton for restraint.&nbsp; Both the Judge and Elisabeth could be certain Dora was entirely innocent of the effect she was having – the girl was as sweet as honey, and had not a shred of womanly guile to accompany it.&nbsp; She was also entirely unaware of the way the damp cloth clung to her curves – the restaurant was busy and hot, with both doors open to get any kind of a draft that could be had.&nbsp; Her eyes focused on Margeurite, an unfamiliar face, and she beamed brightly.<br><br><strong>”Oh hi!”</strong> she added, to the new face.&nbsp; <strong>”Welcome to the Wafflehaus, lemme git ya a menu!”</strong>&nbsp; She stepped towards them, stepping gracelessly towards a small stand with pitchers of cool water and printed menus.<br><br><br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ciosa</strong> on <strong>13-04-2014, 22:12:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/e6/Reloadedbanner.png)</div><br>All posts after this juncture are part of Doomtown Reloaded.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>auroraChloe</strong> on <strong>17-04-2014, 05:23:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<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>&nbsp; May 11th, 1876<br><br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> afternoon<br><br><strong>Location:</strong> walking to her shop down Southeast Temptation, addressing a small crowd in front of Jones’ Mercantile &amp; Trade<br><br><strong>Tagged:</strong> npc Albert (Whippersnapper), npc Deputy Flatbush, open<br><br><hr><br><em>Sin and iniquity!</em>&nbsp; Jerking at ill fitting gloves, Jaelyn wondered how any mayor in his right mind expected good citizens to attend an event such as the frollicking feast in Babel’s Tower.&nbsp; To her remembrance, Babel was a place where pride brought on the wrath of God.&nbsp; Not that that puffed up mayor would know a thing about…&nbsp; <em>Stop!&nbsp; Right now, just stop before your thoughts become words and you end up in Gomorra’s version of a prayer closet.</em>&nbsp; Harrumphing, she then slowed her pace, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out with as much of her bad humour as she could.&nbsp; <em>Gomorra’s prayer closet.&nbsp; As if.</em>&nbsp; Her cheek dimpled slightly with the thought.<br><br>“Miss Jones!&nbsp; Miss Jones!”&nbsp; &nbsp;A cherub cheeked child, in short tattered pants and patched shirt skidded to a stop, his bare feet spewing up a low hanging cloud of dust.&nbsp; She reached to push a flop of dirty blond curls off his face.&nbsp; The boy made her smile, as he was her first friend made in Gomorra and had helped manage the door to the store just the day before.&nbsp; Following the advice of Charlie Flatbush, she’d let in small groups of miners in desperate need of supplies just the day before.&nbsp; It was terrifying and exhausting, as the men were mostly of the rough sort, and had been champing at the bit for days.&nbsp; Not all of them had been unpleasant, though, and the activity had excited her more than she expected it might.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>“I told you, Albert, it’s Miss Scot-Jones.&nbsp; Now what is it that is so all fired important?” &nbsp;<br><br>“It’s them miners back again, spittin’ n’ sputterin’ about a store that aint never open.”&nbsp; &nbsp;With his head tipped back, he stared into a face not yet a decade older than his own.&nbsp; There was lots of talk among the fellers about her sellin’ out to go back where she come from.&nbsp; Albert had his fingers crossed that this news didn’t push her over the edge to doin’ just that.&nbsp; <br><br>“Oh..&nbsp; oh dear.”&nbsp; Lifting her skirts, Jaelyn picked up the pace with the young Albert making the way before her.&nbsp; Arriving slightly out of breath, Jaelyn was saved from having to shoulder her way through a growing crowd by the recent arrival of Charlie Flatbush.&nbsp; Smiling gratefully at the deputy, she mounted the store porch and turned to speak to the unhappy crowd.<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i951.photobucket.com/albums/ad351/roracloe/story%20images/RPG%20DOOMTOWN/---JonesStorewHOME_zpsce2f642c.jpeg)</div>“Tomorrow, Jones’ Mercantile &amp; Trade will be once again open for regular business.”&nbsp; This announcement was met with several hearty cheers, a few ‘about damn time’s and one very nasty ‘getcher ass back across the bridge, bitch’.&nbsp; Deputy Flatbush scanned the crowd for where that last snarling remark might have come from.&nbsp; The truth was, there were not many people who didn’t like Thommy Jones or at the very least respect him.&nbsp; He was fair and honest in his business dealings, always had sound advice and a word of encouragement for miners and was courteous and charmingly flirtatious with the ladies whether they be prettiest ‘gel or ugly as a stump.&nbsp; But Jaelyn was not her father and even just the few days delay to the fairest priced supplies was enough to turn the most jovial of men to a bad temper.&nbsp; Even the women had begun wondering what would happen to the favored storefront.&nbsp; “You all knew my father, I recall many of your faces at his funeral, grieving right along side of me."&nbsp; She swallowed, a tight smile fighting back the sting of tears.&nbsp; "But this is Gomorra and here there is no time for an extended period of mourning.&nbsp; I only beg your patience.... for one more afternoon.”&nbsp; Nerves cracked her voice just once, while her knees knocked, hidden beneath layers of black crepe, but she had said it out loud.&nbsp; She was here to stay.&nbsp; <br><br><hr><br>Charlie threw her a grin and a wink before stepping off the porch to disperse the crowd, telling them to keep calm or visit the new place giving away free food and booze and return in the morning ready to spend their hard earned money.&nbsp; The young Albert beamed up at the young miss who was far different than what he might have expected.&nbsp; From Thommy’s tales of his baby girl, Albert and his fellow whippersnappers were expecting a much younger girl, a more angelic version of themselves.&nbsp; Jaelyn was instead a more angelic and feminine version of Thommy.&nbsp; Well, mostly Thommy, Albert figured, but without that manly, sweet talkin' charm that had near every lady leaving Jones’ with a warm blush and girlish giggle.<br><br>Jae, still a bit shaky in the legs, sighed and closed her eyes for a few beats before drawing in a deep breath that went a long way to putting some starch back in her spine.&nbsp; With a few steps she was able to peer into the side yard - a peculiar thing in Miner’s Peril, to be sure and in another time and place would include a kitchen garden, bright flowers, maybe a fruit tree and some grass.&nbsp; But this wasn’t another time and place, this was Gomorra.&nbsp; <br><br>Taking the measure of Albert’s loitering comrades, she ventured, “I need a few bodies.&nbsp; For some cleaning and errands and the like.”&nbsp; She looked at them hopefully, then laughed when nearly enmass they made a move.&nbsp; Choosing a handful of the larger kids for the heavy cleaning she had in mind, she then picked several more on the smaller side to run some errands.&nbsp; While not taking an exact inventory, she had looked around the store enough to have a few ideas.&nbsp; Grinning, she set her workers to their tasks before going to change into her old Lost Angels dress.&nbsp; It wasn’t fit for public, but would do well enough for cleaning and counting stock.&nbsp; Adrenaline was still surging in Jae’s veins, urging her on with a joyful energy.&nbsp; One afternoon was hardly enough time for one tick mark on the to-do list, and she had countless things to do before the next sunrise.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ciosa</strong> on <strong>18-04-2014, 05:44:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/a/ad/Dorakoch.png/383px-Dorakoch.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Dora Koch<br><strong>Faction:</strong> None<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 11th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Afternoon<br><strong>Location:</strong> Der Wafflehaus<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open<br><hr> <br>Lord in Heaven, it had been a slow day.&nbsp; Dora didn’t mind working in Der Wafflehaus, but she sure minded slow days.&nbsp; Slow days dragged on and on, made it take a little bit more effort to paint a smile on her face.&nbsp; She loved it when they were busy, and she could whirl between a dozen tables with a swish in her hips and something forever on her ‘to do’ list, when they opened early and didn’t stop moving til the sun was down.&nbsp; But while the morning had whirled by in its normal hubbub of activity, the afternoon had seen all their customers up and disappear for that brand spankin’ new saloon opening up.&nbsp; New places always hurt business a titch - but it never lasted long.&nbsp; Cheap food and friendly service and Mama’s quality cookin’ in the kitchen always brought the bread and butter back.<br><br>So she dallied between her customers, trying to strike a balance between bothering folks when their mouths were full and being a friendly presence.&nbsp; She had a sixth sense when eyes were on her - it was usually right before someone made a grab at her backside, or tried to tug her over into their lap.&nbsp; There were a few faces she didn’t object to much to the treatment from - well, inwardly at least.&nbsp; She always made a fuss about it - her older sister had giggled a few too many times when it happened, and now half the regulars thought of her as a pillow for their laps.&nbsp; Mama had made it pretty clear this wasn’t ever going to be <em>that</em> kind of establishment.<br><br>So when she felt the eyes on her, she turned.&nbsp; Handsome fellers made her smile come natural, and though she recognized him for a redskin, he had hair so long and pretty she felt a touch of envy.&nbsp; <em>Wish I could get mine to grow that long.</em>&nbsp; Not that it was physically impossible - but with the way she sweat through her clothes every shift, she’d had to settle for keeping it a few inches below her shoulders.<br><br>He was staring at her, too.&nbsp; Not leering.&nbsp; She got plenty of leering.&nbsp; Particularly towards the end of her shift, when her blouse started to cling to every part of her that curved.&nbsp; But he was just starin’ and smilin’ and lookin’ like he might be happy to do that all day.&nbsp; Unconsciously, she smoothed her skirt, which flashed tan bared legs his way, and her smile spread wider.&nbsp; It was nice, bein’ gaped at like that.&nbsp; Flatterin’.&nbsp; <br><br>”Well you just gonna stand there or you gonna come in to get a bite?”&nbsp; Mama hadn’t much raised her for subtlety, but if there was any sting in it, the brilliant, earnest smile melted it away.<br><br>“Ye serve redskins?”&nbsp; Clyde, a regular, muttered it in disbelief.<br><br>“We serve white skin and yeller skin and black skins and brown skins,” retorted Dora.&nbsp; “We even serve skins so dirty a girl can’t tell what color they was born with, Clyde.&nbsp; Oughta try a bath once a month or so.”<br><br>Clyde wrinkled his nose, but kept quiet.<br><br>Dora waved the stranger in.&nbsp; “Come on, smells even better in ‘ere.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sindra</strong> on <strong>22-04-2014, 19:36:16</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/a/a1/Walker.png)</div>&nbsp;<br><strong>Name:</strong> Walker (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=200832.msg9811695#msg9811695)<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Sioux Union<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 11th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Afternoon<br><strong>Location:</strong> Der Wafflehaus<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Dora, Open<br><hr> <br>Walker blinked at the beautiful woman as she spoke to him and paused, trying to remember English words to answer her.&nbsp; Disappointed, he shook his head at her.&nbsp; Every part of him wanted to go in, sit at one of her tables and watch her as she served food and maybe even talk with her but he had no money.&nbsp; “Thank you for the offer but I am lacking white man money.”&nbsp; He finally managed to get out. <br><br>He took a deep breath as he heard the shock at the idea of serving a 'redskin'.&nbsp; He was used to the sentiment and, really, it didn't upset him.&nbsp; Most of his tribe felt the same way about the white man.&nbsp; It did serve as a reminder that he had no place staring at a very pale woman.&nbsp; If John Bloody Knife found out that he had, on rare occasion, found pleasure with a white woman, his life would become harder than it already was.&nbsp; On one side of things, their Chief believed that a peaceful relationship with the white man in Gomorra was necessary and several agreed with the Chief.&nbsp; On the other side of things, John Bloody Knife simply wanted everyone in Gomorra dead.&nbsp; He hated the white man severely and several of the tribe agreed with him – looking forward to a time in which John Bloody Knife was in charge.&nbsp; Walker was stuck in the middle of it all.&nbsp; Those that thought peace was necessary were pleased with him and those that wanted violence thought that Walker was becoming too close to the enemy.<br><br>Her voice pulled him back to the present.&nbsp; He didn't really want to leave and her repeating the invitation made him nod.&nbsp; “If you don't mind me just sitting with a beverage for a bit.”&nbsp; He could afford something to drink at least.&nbsp; It would cut into the teeny funds he had but, looking at her again, it was worth it.<br><br>“Thank you.”&nbsp; He offered his sincere gratitude as he entered the Wafflehaus.&nbsp; Careful to avoid the man who had been bothered by his presence, he picked out a chair that would allow him the best vantage to both watch the waitress but also the rest of the patrons.&nbsp; He wasn't seeking any trouble.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>auroraChloe</strong> on <strong>28-04-2014, 07:47:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<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> (n/a)<br><br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 12th, 1876<br><br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> morning<br><br><strong>Location:</strong> Jones’ Mercantile &amp; Trade<br><br><strong>Tagged:</strong> open<br><br><hr> <br>In the still predawn hours, Jaelyn woke in a rush.&nbsp; Not quite coming to a full sit, she leaned back on elbows and took a few blinks to brush away the lingering cobwebs of strange dreams.&nbsp; Nothing as frightening as what the children had endured, but more of an odd patchwork of memories, old and new.&nbsp; With a furrowed forehead, she reviewed the bits and pieces she could immediately remember.<br><br>Her dead father, as he had been all laid out for identification, sat up looking right as rain.&nbsp; Not one of the flesh flaying injuries that killed him was evident.&nbsp; He held out to her the necklace he’d bought so long ago for his beloved Renae.&nbsp; The band that Jae herself had pulled from his dead finger was already there sharing space with the charming dangles - an open heart for his ‘wife’ and a pink enamel painted bow for his baby girl.&nbsp; Thommy’s mouth opened in the dream, and stayed open, with no real sound coming out, but Jaelyn understood him as if he spoke the words.&nbsp; ‘You have the key, use the key.’&nbsp; Dropping back to lie on her back, she breathed deep and sighed, sleep still dulling the edges of an interpretation.&nbsp; <br><br>She had no time for such indulgences.&nbsp; Minutes later with the bed made and clothes on her back, the dream was barely a memory.&nbsp; The object of said dream was in a small, pretty trinket box made especially for such keepsakes.&nbsp; Jae instead donned the dogwood rosary the good Father had given her just the evening before, its pink hued beads lay in stark contrast against the black mourning dress, the rustic carved cross hanging low.&nbsp; Higher up, slipped in between dress and petticoat, laying against her breastbone was the weight of a key.&nbsp; It hung on a thin leather strip that was already pliant and warmed by her body.&nbsp; She was the keeper of this key and it would nestle close to her person but for the hours when she slept.<br><br>After brushing and pinning her hair up, the new shopkeeper was out of tasks that might delay her descent into the day.&nbsp; There was nothing left but a rush of doubts to assail her, flipping a suddenly queasy stomach.&nbsp; This day would be the true trial by fire, testing the mettle of the pretty little orphan.&nbsp; Easily finding the rosary, Jaelyn nervously wrapped the string of beads around a finger before offering up a prayer.&nbsp; “Lord, in Your all knowing wisdom, You have always been leading me to this place in time, to this opportunity.&nbsp; Forgive my doubts, oh Lord, as things happen around me that I do not understand. Things that make me feel confused and afraid and angry.&nbsp; Yet even in the midst of all this, I know that you are with me, Lord.&nbsp; I beseech You - on this day i begin a new life here in Gomorra - for strength and for wisdom, and that I be able to bring glory to Your name.&nbsp; Amen.”<br><br>She felt a little better after that, at least in her heart.&nbsp; There was nothing but to do her best and then see what the next step was.&nbsp; It was enough peace of mind to move her to meet the challenge of the day.<br><br>In the kitchen she made a pot of tea.&nbsp; She also opted for a slice of cold, crisp, leftover bacon, a nibble bread and tinned fruit, knowing it could be hours before she found time to eat.&nbsp; Since her time with John Malta, food had become so much more enjoyable, she realized as she sat at the dining table.&nbsp; A soft knock interrupted her thoughts about her time with the traveling preacher.&nbsp; At the door were two blurry eyed whippersnappers who were there to assist her as they could throughout the day, bless their hearts.&nbsp; She sent them back to the kitchen to fetch their own bread, fruit and tea.&nbsp; They would earn that fortification along with some coin.<br><br>Finally it was time.&nbsp; The sun was barely above the bleak desert horizon when, knees knocking, she unlocked the door to the store.&nbsp; It would be some hours later before Jaelyn would be able to catch her breath.&nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ciosa</strong> on <strong>29-04-2014, 03:40:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/a/ad/Dorakoch.png/383px-Dorakoch.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Dora Koch<br><strong>Faction:</strong> None<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 11th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Afternoon<br><strong>Location:</strong> Der Wafflehaus<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open<br><hr> <br>Her face fell a little bit when he said he didn’t have any white man money, and then she tilted her head, considering.&nbsp; Mama wasn’t about to part with free vittles for no one, though she occasionally let a cup of tea or coffee slide… for a regular.<br><br>“We can get you something to drink,” she promised, smiling easily.&nbsp; She waved him in, putting him at a table not so close to Clyde.&nbsp; Clyde smelled enough that she doubted Walker would have minded even if he wasn’t uncivil.<br><br>The rest of the patrons noted him with the same interest he regarded them.&nbsp; Red men were unusual anywhere in Gomorra, but Gomorra had men of every color.&nbsp; Some seemed more uncomfortable than others, but many just regarded him curiously, noting his white-mans clothes and taking him for a convert to some religion or another.<br><br>Dora leaned against the high back of the booth opposite him, taking the weight off one foot for a moment.&nbsp; “Coffee, tea?&nbsp; We got some funny water that them boys at the Collegium cooked up, but it makes folks all crazy.”&nbsp; She wrinkled her nose.&nbsp; “And it smells funny.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ciosa</strong> on <strong>29-04-2014, 22:26:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/25/Doggie.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> A stranger.<br><strong>Faction:</strong> (n/a)<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 12th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Midday<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jones’ Mercantile &amp; Trade<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> open, Jaelyn<br><hr> <br>The initial press of miners who were eager to get back to work was unending, it seemed.&nbsp; They had bought a bewildering array of supplies, long starved for affordable goods and eating through what little money they had while waiting for Jones’ Mercantile to reopen.&nbsp; They also ordered dynamite like mad - but apparently they didn’t expect her to retrieve it.&nbsp; Instead the miners simply placed orders for it, and promised to be on the front door of the general store in the morning to pick it up.&nbsp; It was accidental happenstance that one let slip that the regulation was city ordinance, even as it protected Jaelyn from having to leave the store unattended for even a few moments while it was filled with miners.<br><br>The whippersnappers more than earned their keep from filching miners, too - they kept their eyes on the crowd of miners, noting whenever a watch or a pack of cards disappeared into a pocket.&nbsp; They brushed right by a moment later and filched it back, waiting until the miner with the five finger (or three finger, depending) discount had made their way out of the general store and replacing the item on the shelf without a confrontation.<br><br>When the stranger came in, it was just after lunch.&nbsp; Most of the store had been picked over, with the whippersnappers out delivering new orders.&nbsp; He was older than most of the miners, with grizzled grey hair and a scraggly beard, and clothes that had clearly seen much better days. His shirt and coat and vest were all stained a dusty brown, seams going threadbare and hems fraying.&nbsp; <br><br>He poked through the shelves, the air of a man who didn’t know exactly what he was looking for - and perhaps all he was looking for was some shade over his head.&nbsp; He reeked of whiskey and the vague scent of cooked pork, and he scratched his fingers idly through his beard.<br><br>“Do you - “&nbsp; his voice was cracked, and sounded parched.&nbsp; “ - do you have any irons?”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>auroraChloe</strong> on <strong>30-04-2014, 06:45:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<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> (n/a)<br><br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 12th, 1876<br><br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> midday<br><br><strong>Location:</strong> Jones’ Mercantile &amp; Trade<br><br><strong>Tagged:</strong> open, Stranger (than me!)<br><br><hr> <br>In the brief respite, all Jaelyn could think of was her poor, aching feet.&nbsp; The multiple broken blisters acquired during her recent trek across the Maze had healed for the most part, but she was loath to put those dastardly boots back on.&nbsp; Instead she opted for the dainty dress slippers lent along with the dress.&nbsp; And after those first hours working the store she realized that fashion was a vanity she could do with out.<br><br>She was moving around the store - her store, she remembered, flooding with uncommon pride - to straighten shelves the throng of miners, eager for their goods, were not considerate enough to leave as neat and tidy as they found them to be.&nbsp; All the while, Jae mentally noted stock that needed replenishing until an older gentleman came in to spur her direction back to the counter.&nbsp; She didn't rush but continued tidying as she moved watching the man with interest.&nbsp; He wasn't quite the dandy she thought on first glance, not with that raggedy coat and such poor grooming.&nbsp; No, not a dandy, instead he was quite the codger and when he came closer, it was all she could do not to wrinkle her nose in distaste.<br><br>“Do you...&nbsp; - ... do you have any irons?”&nbsp; He asked.&nbsp; <br><br>Her immediate response was silent sympathy, he seemed like such a sad, desert husk of a man.&nbsp; Then, when his request registered, confusion flitted across her face as visions of the Cathedral laundry came to mind.&nbsp; The very hot, very flat irons were sometimes employed there, but from the looks of this fellow's clothes, impressive presentation was the last concern.&nbsp; <strong>"Umm... "</strong>&nbsp; Jae's blue eyes suddenly lit with a smile of understanding. <strong>"ohhh...&nbsp; No.&nbsp; I mean, I haven't come across any as of yet."&nbsp; </strong><br><br>Her friendly smile faltered.&nbsp; <strong>"That is uhh... not to say that they can't be special ordered."</strong>&nbsp; She had seen a notation for handcuffs in the store ledger in her father's neat block print, special ordered for a Nate Hunter.&nbsp; <strong>"Have you,"</strong>&nbsp; She hesitated, not wanting to turn away business, but there was a good chance the blacksmith would be more helpful.&nbsp; <strong>"Have you sought out the blacksmith, sir?"</strong>&nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Pumpkin Seeds</strong> on <strong>30-04-2014, 16:27:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://img5.imageshack.us/img5/1570/shanghainoon2000m720pbl.png)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Jia Li<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Maze Rats<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 12th 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Midday<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jones' Mercantile &amp; Trade<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Jaelyn, Stranger, Open<br><hr><br>There had been another delivery girl for the past few weeks.&nbsp; Another dirty face that eagerly brought stained and unwashed clothing to Fu Leng’s Dry Cleaning and then returned with the clean results just as eagerly.&nbsp; Few people might have noticed the difference as the girl was just another of the multitude, another dark haired and slant eyed girl that spoke little English.&nbsp; Yet for some they might have noticed the girl was not so friendly as the previous one or as curious, but was also more prone to being on time and less likely to be darting between carts on the street to perform her tasks.&nbsp; In general there was a difference but not something the average person would notice.&nbsp; So there was some disappointment for Jia Li when her return was not heralded, but was instead meet with surprise that she had left at all.&nbsp; Still, her task had been to blend into the town and she supposed that task was accomplished.<br><br>There was a new business in the town which meant a potential new customer.&nbsp; Shop owners had many clothes and materials to be cleaned, to be stained and then cleaned.&nbsp; The owner of Fu Leng, a tyrant to rival any back home, was shrewd when analyzing such matters.&nbsp; &nbsp;Jia Li was then dispatched to see if the woman indeed had need of their services and make their typical sales pitch.&nbsp; Slender and petite, the young woman maneuvered through the noon day traffic with little regard for her own safety.&nbsp; Wheels rolled near her and horses stamped their feet near her passing.&nbsp; More than one curse was uttered at her darting form rushing past an early drinker or a late riser.&nbsp; There was a wave to the brothel women that always had need of her services and of course to shop keepers as she passed.&nbsp; Always had to keep up appearances and professional relationships.&nbsp; Her mind ticked off the slogans feed to her by her employer.<br><br>Once the shop was approached, Jia Li might be mistaken for a child by the owner.&nbsp; Almond shaped eyes of a delicate craftsmanship peer into the window.&nbsp; The height was small and the face dirty, small spots of freckles could be seen along the bridge of her nose.&nbsp; Black hair was tied back into a small tail that fall down her clothing.&nbsp; A street urchin by her appearance there was no mistaking the curious look she gave to the items through the window before she boldly proceeded to the doorway.&nbsp; A surety radiated from her despite her small size, a confidence that allowed the smaller woman to proceed forward into the unknown without hesitation.&nbsp; <br><br>A bright and poorly accented “Hello” was given that seemed fairly garbled and out of place when spoken.&nbsp; There was a distinct bow, as the western people of this country seemed to like this and thought it humorous.&nbsp; She would hate to tell them that in her own country no one would bow to them, but here she had to blend in to survive.&nbsp; <br><br>“I come speak to owner please.”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>auroraChloe</strong> on <strong>03-05-2014, 15:46:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<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> (n/a)<br><br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 12th, 1876<br><br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> midday<br><br><strong>Location:</strong> Jones’ Mercantile &amp; Trade<br><br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Jai Li, the Stranger (than me!), open<br><br><hr> <br><br>&nbsp;<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>"Have you sought out the blacksmith, sir?"</strong></span>&nbsp; <br><br>Over the scraggly grey's shoulder, she saw the whippersnapper enter the store, the form unfamiliar but small enough to fit the profile.&nbsp; There was a purpose, too, to the stride that made Jae think she was getting a delivery.&nbsp; Had she been in Gomorra long enough to warrant one?&nbsp; Maybe the seamstress about those dresses.&nbsp; There was a part of her too, that was relieved to have another face in the place.&nbsp; After the hours long rush, it's was slightly off-putting to be alone with the shackle shopping man.&nbsp; <br><br>As the figure approached, age was not easily guessed, but this was no whippersnapper.&nbsp; Jaelyn blinked at the dusty creature before finding her manners.&nbsp; "I am."&nbsp; The tone was defensive, as if she needed to prove something.&nbsp; It was a girl, she realized, after catching herself staring.&nbsp; Blushing just a little, "The owner, i mean.&nbsp; I'm Jaelyn Scot-Jones, Thommy Jones was my father."&nbsp; She offered a faltering smile, the pronouncement taking in both her current costumers.&nbsp; <br><br>Jae was aware of the difference in their races, and how those differences made people behave toward each other.&nbsp; She knew too, that all bellies, no matter the color of the face or the slant of the eyes, needed food and all blood ran red.&nbsp; Starvation and death were great equalizers.&nbsp; She met the dark eyes, a fair amount of curiosity in her own.&nbsp; "How may I help you today?"&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp;<br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ciosa</strong> on <strong>03-05-2014, 21:32:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/25/Doggie.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> A stranger.<br><strong>Faction:</strong> (n/a)<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 12th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Midday<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jones’ Mercantile &amp; Trade<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> open, Jaelyn<br><hr> <br>He licked his lips, noting her silent sympathy, the look like pity that crossed her face.&nbsp; Many a men in Gomorra would have flashed angry at the thought of being pitied, but he had grown used to it.&nbsp; He considered it for a moment, then looked around the store.&nbsp; He gave a small shake of scraggly white hair when she inquired about the blacksmith.<br><br>He jumped a little when the door opened behind him, the slight creak of hinges as the diminutive Chinawoman slipped within.&nbsp; They were a pair, at least as far as the dirt which clung to them, and he stepped away from the front counter.&nbsp; There were not many who would move out of the way of a Chinese woman in Gomorra – their social status was the first rung above dirt, and the girl’s look suggested that she had just climbed up from it.&nbsp; He moved back to the shelves, absently straightening things, his fingers moving over small sundries and making neat piles absently.&nbsp; <br><br>It was something to do to keep his hands busy, not an attempt to ingratiate himself with the owner.&nbsp; He looked back keenly when she said Thommy Jones was her father, a half-smile crossing his face for a moment – and then it faltered.&nbsp; For a moment, his eyes were haunted, as he bit back the question about her father.&nbsp; <br><br>His head dipped.&nbsp; There was a flash of shame, and he tried to offer a smile that came up a little short.&nbsp; “I… I’ll check with the blacksmith,” he murmured, barely audible.&nbsp; He dug a hand into his pocket, fishing for something, and dropped it behind a stack of playing cards.&nbsp; &nbsp;He let it go and gave a small nod to the little errand girl and the shopkeeper, then went to the door.&nbsp; He shoved it open and staggered out into the street drawing a deep breath, pushing a hat onto his head and blinking rapidly.&nbsp; The brim of the hat covered a tear that ran down a weathered cheek.<br><br>“Sorry, Thommy,” he murmured.&nbsp; “Sorry.”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>esclavage</strong> on <strong>04-05-2014, 04:41:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/3d/Ginny_03a.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Virginia <em><strong>'Ginny'</strong></em> Mary Lou Whateley<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Whateley Family<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 12th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> Ballot Boulevard, entrance to Burnham Detection Agency<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Avery; OPEN<br><hr> <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"Yur shor' this be it?"</strong>&nbsp; The question was largely rhetorical when coming from the lips of Ginny as she eyed the small office space with an askance, almost scandalized look.&nbsp; Though the day had only begun, the morning sun was already murderously bright - shining its sweltering rays down upon the young Whateley.&nbsp; Fortunately, Ginny was more than prepared - with her large Stenson that hide her pale skin and covered her in the blessed cool shade.&nbsp; Idly, a Bibical verse - one from Isaiah that spoken something about a shadow of a great rock in a weary land - came to the forefront of her land even as she surveyed the area around her.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Dressed this time in her comfortable leather chaps, a loose cream-colored blouse, and a blue overcoat made from linen and seersucker cotton with golden buttons, both to cover her and to keep her cool despite the layers, Ginny looked quite fashionable indeed.&nbsp; Not that she ever looked unfashionable, but there was a certain ease in how she wore these clothes when compared against her Sunday&nbsp; best.&nbsp; Of course, not having to wear a whalebone-lined corset might have accounted for that difference entirely.&nbsp; It was a bit funny - the thought that having the ability to breathe freely would make such a difference in comfort.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;With her finely crafted pepperbox hanging cockily from her hip, attached to her belt in plain sight, Ginny at least looked like a cowgirl.&nbsp; Or at least a model of one they might show back in the east to all the young tinhorns eager to head out and make their fortune.&nbsp; Anyone with a practiced eye might have wondered aloud if the blonde Whateley even knew which end her gun shot from - the handle looking so new that it might have been ordered, and probably was, only a week old.&nbsp; Still, appearances were something and to someone like Ginny - they might be everything.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Hence, her understandable dismay at the very humble shop in her own private, though openly expressed, opinion.&nbsp; Not that her guide, a young Whippersnapper boy, cared all that much.&nbsp; <strong>"Sure is, Miss.&nbsp; This is the spot."</strong>&nbsp; His cherubic features scrunched a bit, obviously wondering what did he need to say if his current employer chose to contradict or disagree with him.&nbsp; After all, the customer was always right - even if they didn't have the damnedest idea of what they were talking about.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Another small sigh was given by Ginny even as she reached for a deep coat in her blue overcoat.&nbsp; <strong>"Fine.&nbsp; 'eres yur pay."</strong>&nbsp; A glittering quarter eagle was doled out to the Whippersnapper who eagerly snatched it up.&nbsp; With a small pause, Ginny took out a very small pouch where she kept all her poor people's change, though she never said <em>that </em>aloud - more than once, Granny had chided her at back home for calling it that even though the older woman did privately agree with her - and fished out a shiny half-dollar.&nbsp; <strong>"Kin yuh also giv'er uh good 'ard knock?"</strong>&nbsp; Ginny wasn't about to do it herself - knocking was so...so...pedestrian!<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;And at the sight of the half-dollar, the Whippersnapper's face lit up.&nbsp; After accepting the additional coin, he stepped up to the door, balled his hand into a fist, and began to pound away in a very attention-getting way.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"Oy!&nbsp; OY!!&nbsp; You've got a lady here!!!&nbsp; Here's a lady!!!!"</strong>&nbsp; He shouted, glancing back at Ginny to make sure this was to her liking,&nbsp; and at the slight incline of her head - continued on with his loud knocking.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Niferbelle</strong> on <strong>04-05-2014, 22:05:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i627.photobucket.com/albums/tt357/Niferbelle/my%20avatars/doomtown7av_zps641b8122.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Lilah 'Li-Li' Oliver (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=200832.msg9813377#msg9813377)<br><strong>Faction:</strong> There have been a few rumors but who listens to those<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 21<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> afternoon<br><strong>Location:</strong> outside the Five and Dime<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Reid, open<br><hr>It had been dawn before she'd fallen asleep at last, mainly die to the fact that every time she closed her eyes she imagined that huge wolf beast coming through the wall of the shed she was calling home, having tracked her there by scent. Once asleep, even then it was fitful so when she awoke a little before noon, she was feeling none too rested but felt the urge to get out and do something. Something turned out to be walking the streets, trying to sort out what she should do with the mess she'd fallen into and searching the faces of any drunks she passed, wondering if any of them were the old- man-turned-beast from the night before and if she would recognize him if she saw him. It was awfully dark.<br><br>What she'd really like was somebody to talk this out with. There was always Jack -- she'd send a message that she'd like to talk to him but it would be a few days before it could be arranged plus she knew there was a chance he'd want to come into town to settle things himself and that was just asking for trouble. He was the smartest person she knew, sure, but she couldn't really say a wolf-man was part of his expertise. The thought that she should just leave it alone and let somebody else handle it was always in the back of her mind but that still didn't feel quite right. So she went back and forth in her mind -- what could she do, who could she tell, who would know about these things -- but felt like she was getting nowhere. Turning the corner, up ahead was the five and dime and she saw a familiar yellow-haired figure coming out of it. If he didn't fit the bill she doubted anyone in town did.<br><br>"Hey Reid!" she called out to get his attention then jogged a few steps to catch up with him before he wandered off. "Howdy there. You got a few minutes or am I interruptin' somethin'?"<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Pumpkin Seeds</strong> on <strong>04-05-2014, 23:41:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://img5.imageshack.us/img5/1570/shanghainoon2000m720pbl.png)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Jia Li<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Maze Rats<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 12th 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Midday<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jones' Mercantile &amp; Trade<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Jaelyn, Stranger, Open<br><hr><br>The man moved, affording Jia Li a better look at him.&nbsp; He moved for her, but she failed to notice the significance of the gesture.&nbsp; At home she had such respect from others at the monastery, had such respect for her skills and her grasp of knowledge.&nbsp; Yet there her talents were wasted to seek enlightenment while here she threatened to bring an enlightened people to the world.&nbsp; Others had said she was foolish, but what use was her body and mind if wasted seeking what was inside everyone.&nbsp; Still she also did not back away or shy away from the man, instead those eyes followed him for a moment with a stillness that bespoke experience.&nbsp; Like before she gave a bow, but there was no deferment of power in the action but instead a reassertion of her own strength.&nbsp; Then the moment was gone and her smile returned just as easily to the shop owner. Jia Li was here to do a job and a job she would do.<br><br>Small fingers eagerly pried into her clothing.&nbsp; For a moment the other woman might think the girl had come down with a case of fleas or perhaps had to adjust some undergarment. Then out came a slip of paper that was delicately folded.&nbsp; Much like a treasure the girl unfolded each crease of the paper, plying it open to reveal the ancient language scrawled over the surface.&nbsp; A mystic spell perhaps or maybe even an ancient missive as some tales went.&nbsp; Rumors and conjectures spread a plenty about her people.&nbsp; There might be some disappointment or perhaps joy that when Jia Li opened her mouth to read the paper there was only a little advertisement to be made.<br><br>“Fu Leng Cleaner.&nbsp; We clean, press, deliver and…mend..all cloth and clothes for you.&nbsp; Small price, good results.&nbsp; Just leave linens in a bag for pickup and then next day brought back to you.&nbsp; Pay by service and load.&nbsp; Never unhappy with quality.&nbsp; You see.”<br><br>A curt nod was given that brought the woman’s black hair falling forward over her face.&nbsp; Dark eyes peered up at the other with a serious expression, as if she was trying to be business-like and professional.&nbsp; That she had small flecks of freckles over the bridge of her nose did not help the situation, especially since they were blended among her tanned flesh and dirty exterior.&nbsp; Still the promise of youth and the spirit of Western independence shined through each action.&nbsp; Even standing there the girl looked about ready to explode with exuberance and curiousity.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>auroraChloe</strong> on <strong>05-05-2014, 14:23:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/a16483c2858f862945634d46b9ad41b9/tumblr_mh480oybdg1r64urio1_500.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jaelyn Scot-Jones<br><strong>Faction:</strong> (n/a)<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 12th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> mid-day<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jones’ Mercantile &amp; Trade<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Stranger (exiting,) Jai-Li, open<br><hr> <br>She’d witnessed the briefest of exchanges between the small girl-woman and the wretch of a man.&nbsp; The bow itself said more than words could, for it was not some subservient shuffle but simple acknowledgment.&nbsp; Jae couldn’t imagine The Stranger got much of that in his current condition, as he could easily blend in with the rest of the mesa dirt and sand.&nbsp; The fact of the matter was that this simple act of respect said more about the girl than the man.&nbsp; And so curiosity about this Oriental deepened.&nbsp; <br><br>She was only saved by outright staring, oddly enough, by the old man’s puttering departure.&nbsp; He seemed so out of sorts - nervous - with his touching and stacking.&nbsp; After such a busy day, it would be difficult to even know if he’d stolen anything.&nbsp; It was no small relief when he left with a quiet word about visiting the smithie.&nbsp; It would be some time before she pondered any further about the dusty old man and his need for shackles.<br><br>The jet haired girl was quite distracting in her own right, only in a more entertaining fashion.&nbsp; Keen blue eyes cut through the layers of dirt.&nbsp; The girl was no child and she was quite pretty.&nbsp; No... pretty wasn't right, not by the day's standards.&nbsp; But there was a certain beauty in those cheekbones and smooth skin that the Maze hadn't yet leeched out.&nbsp; Jaelyn watched wordlessly as the paper was opened with such showmanship.&nbsp; This had to be good.&nbsp; Perhaps a fireworks display!&nbsp; Her excitement kicked up a notch, as she’d never seen any for herself, though it was common knowledge that the Chinese made the most beautiful ones.<br><br>As the truth came clear, read in slightly broken but still decent English, Jaelyn stood blinking in wonder.&nbsp; Her lips parted; dumbfounded, she felt her whole being was ajar if only for a moment.&nbsp; <strong>“Um…”</strong>&nbsp; Her forehead creased delicately, mouth working soundlessly.&nbsp; Finally sound came out.&nbsp; <strong>“I…&nbsp; really don’t have many clothes.”</strong>&nbsp; This was true, not even the ones currently on her back belonged to her.&nbsp; <strong>“I will be getting some soon, just… not a lot.”</strong>&nbsp; <br><br>Besides understanding how to live a frugally, Jae had always washed her own clothes, she worked in the laundry herself at The Cathedral.&nbsp; Reverend Grimme waxing brimstone about the sin of sloth echoed in her brain.&nbsp; Would it be lazy to send her clothes out to be cleaned?&nbsp; Time would tell.&nbsp; Because if this day was any example, she wouldn’t have time for laundering.&nbsp; Or anything else for that matter. <br><br><strong>“I’m sorry, Miss.&nbsp; Maybe another day.”</strong>&nbsp; She offered a smile, half apologetic and half just being friendly.&nbsp; There was no need to cause hard feelings about it.&nbsp; <br><br>(next May 12th) (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=167802.msg9976449#msg9976449)
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Strangefate</strong> on <strong>06-05-2014, 11:03:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<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 12th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day</strong>: Morning<br><strong>Location</strong>:&nbsp; Burnham Detection Angecy <br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Ginny; OPEN<br><hr>The morning following Babel Tower's opening found Avery at his desk, idly thumbing through a copy of <em>Scribner's Monthly</em>.&nbsp; He was mostly just admiring the illustrations though, while in reality thinking of horses.&nbsp; He didn't normally think much about horses, he didn't even particularly like horses, but his run-in with that rancher woman from last night presently had them galloping through his thoughts.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was one of those topics he'd had to educate himself on before coming out here, for a man who didn't know his way around a saddle in these parts was looked on askance.&nbsp; Horse ranching seemed a peculiar trade for a young woman though.&nbsp; He rather wondered how she'd gotten into it.<br><br>Like as not, he'd never know, although for a brief moment she did cross his mind when the boy started hammering at his door and announcing a 'lady.'&nbsp; Standing up slowly to stretch, he thought better of that idea though.&nbsp; Far more likely was that Miss Sanchez was still upstairs in Hunter's house nursing a hangover, and he doubted she'd arrive with her own personal herald anyways, or whatever was going on outside.&nbsp; A thought which made him pause just long enough to run a hand through his hair and shrug on his suit jacket, before heading to the front door.&nbsp; Upon opening it, he found the boy with his hand raised mid-knock, mouth stretched to belt out another announcement, in case the shops across the street were not yet aware he had a visitor.<br><br>"Oy," he said a bit sheepishly, dropping his voice down and reluctantly lowering his dirty fist.&nbsp; "You got a lady here, mister."<br><br>Avery nodded pleasantly.&nbsp; "I see that.&nbsp; And it seems you even use the term advisedly."&nbsp; Which was indeed a surprise.&nbsp; One glance at Ginny's charmingly fanciful outfit was enough to tell him that he wasn't dealing with a neighboring shop keep's wife or one of the countless saloon birds who roosted in Gomorra. This was woman of a different sort than he'd grown accustomed to seeing around town.&nbsp; Her clothes might be styled so as to remind one of a cowgirl but they were far cry from the crude roughspuns and dusty Stetson worn by the actual rancher he'd met last night. These clothes said money.&nbsp; These clothes said client. <br><br>"My sincere apologies," he began with his most gracious smile, stepping out of the doorway so that she might enter.&nbsp; "I hope you didn't have to wait out here very long.&nbsp; And such a treacherously bright sun this morning too, isn't it?"&nbsp; Avery made certain to usher her quickly through the dusty waiting room and into his office, which if not exactly a more impressive sight to behold, at least gave the impression of having seen an actual human being within the last month.&nbsp; "If I'd know I was to receive someone, I would have made some preparations.&nbsp; As it is I'm afraid I haven't anything to offer you, besides a chair of course, and an open ear, for whatever it is that brings you here."<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>On that he already had a theory.&nbsp; He was good with faces and he recognized hers readily from the hotel opening, although in truth it was one that would be hard for him to forget.&nbsp; Pretty, haughty, and bold as brass, a combination he had found appealing more than once in the past to his own misfortunate.&nbsp; The lesson had not been learned though.&nbsp; Such lessons never really can be.&nbsp; "You were at Babel's Tower last night were you not?&nbsp; Pardon my saying so but your entrance would be hard to forget.&nbsp; So rare it is to see a true lady of class and bearing in these parts."&nbsp; Walking over to the room's only window, Avery pulled the blinds open a bit further, to let some more light filter into the dingy interior.&nbsp; "Is this visit in anyway related by chance?&nbsp; An item gone missing in the crowd, perhaps, something along those lines?&nbsp; In cases of theft, I can't always guarantee I'll find what‘s been taken, but I will certainly expend every possible effort in the attempt." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Niferbelle</strong> on <strong>07-05-2014, 20:13:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><strong>Name:</strong> Albert &amp; a passel of kids<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Whippersnappers<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 15th<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> afternoon<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jones' Mercantile &amp; Trading Post<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Jaelyn, open<br><hr>The small knot of children may their way through the streets of Gomorra and in passing, folks likely would think they were up to their usual mischief unless a moment was taken for a closer look. The children moved as quickly as they could, grim-faced and silent, the happy din of laughter and boisterous shouts that normally accompanied their passage noticeably absent. Even more peculiar was the boy at the center, his face white as a sheet and his gait a cross between a shuffle and a stumble, his little legs moving slowly like he was wading through tar, by now mostly being moved along by the biggest of the little pack who had a firm hold on the boy's good arm. It was the bad arm that was the problem. It&nbsp; hung at a strange angle and the boy's sleeve was soaked with blood that ran down his arm to drip from his fingertips, leaving a trail of droplets in their wake. There weren't many in Gomorra but occasionally they would pass a concerned adult who would call out to them but the children were having none of it and danced around any attempt to impede them, single-minded in their purpose. And so the little procession wound up on the walk in front of Jones' Mercantile &amp; Trading Post whereupon the injured boy just sank to the planks. He was played out, that was clear, from the clammy, pasty skin of his face, the sweat-dampened tendrils of hair sticking to the side of face, and the rapid, shallow way he was breathing, wincing every time he inhaled. Two of the children stayed with him but the rest went barreling into the store, all of them hollering at once so it was hard to say which one was saying what.<br><br>"Miz Jones! Miz Jones! Albert's hurt bad..."<br><br>"He was climbin', Isaac dared him..."<br><br>"I didn't know he would fall! That don't matter anyhow..."<br><br>"The bone is stickin' outta his damn arm!"<br><br>"Don't cuss, she's the church type. Miz Jones, Albert said he had to come here, you would make him feel better..."<br><br>"Didn't want no other doctor..."<br><br>"He's breathin' kinda funny, you better come out!"<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Untamed Skies</strong> on <strong>10-05-2014, 08:48:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i277.photobucket.com/albums/kk59/Untamed_skies/9c4d7342-66e5-4a03-96db-6e391ad6eb88_zps7ecf9012.jpg) (http://s277.photobucket.com/user/Untamed_skies/media/9c4d7342-66e5-4a03-96db-6e391ad6eb88_zps7ecf9012.jpg.html)</div><strong>Name</strong>: Reid Lawson<br><strong>Faction</strong>: none<br><strong>Date</strong>: May 21<br><strong>Time of Day</strong>: afternoon<br><strong>Location</strong>: outside the Five and Dime<br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Lilah, Open<br><br><br><br><br><br><br>Reid's day wasn't necessarily going bad, at least if it was bad he hadn't figured out wher the bad was comin' from. He'd been lookin' around town tryin' to make sure Dale wasn't getting himself into trouble again. So far he hadn't found him, or hard a trace of him. Could mean he was out tryin' to mine again, or he found work. That'd be a nice surprise for a change. Either way he wasn't anywhere around. Content with his search for the time being, at least until someone came and grabbed him, informin' him that his brother was up to no good again Reid was going to just enjoy the day then. Wasn't much else to ponder other then the offer bein' made to him by the college. He'd been doing enough ponderin' over that for a few weeks now and had thought all which ways he could about it as it was. He was still trying to figure out what the catch was. Confident somethin' was going to prove his worries right. <br><br>Lucky for him as he stepped out of the last bar, his thoughts were pulled away by a friendly and familiar face. Lilah, the woman he'd met when Babel's Tower was offering discounts, drinks and food. "Howdy Lilah," he said moving in her direction and nodding. Tipping his hat politely in her direction. The usual smile warming his face as he made his way over to her. "S'pose it wasn't gonna be too much longer before I bumped into ya," he said as he closed the distance between then. "You ain't interrupting anything, least not anything I'm aware of," he told her. The look of interest on his face as he studied her own. She had somethin' in mind he was certain of that much. What it was he could only guess, til she told him. "Need me for somethin'," he asked her. If it was just another invitation to a friendly drink that was just as well of course. Still he'd be just as happy to help her as best as he could if she was havin' other problems.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Pumpkin Seeds</strong> on <strong>11-05-2014, 13:27:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://img5.imageshack.us/img5/1570/shanghainoon2000m720pbl.png)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Jia Li<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Maze Rats<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 12th 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Midday<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jones' Mercantile &amp; Trade<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Jaelyn, Stranger, Open<br><hr><br>The woman appeared confused at first.&nbsp; Idly she stood there, silently regarding the shop owner before holding up the paper again.&nbsp; As if expecting a presentation of the written material to be a convincing factor, Jia Li gestured toward the alien characters written on the paper and then brought them back down to her.&nbsp; Again she stretched out the paper, seemingly intent to read the words again.&nbsp; Indeed she began to say them once more before suddenly stopping and folding the paper once more.&nbsp; A smile was worn on her face as if a thought had occurred to her.&nbsp; Freckles seemed to brighten from beneath the dirt and she stepped forward, her more petite frame standing on the tips of her slippered feet with a delicate balance.<br><br>“We wash clothes, you need clothes.&nbsp; Onneca make great clothes for you, many clothes.&nbsp; Pretty ribbons and pretty clothes.&nbsp; You see, you just go to her store and say Jia Li sent you.&nbsp; She gave me pretty ribbons before but they are gone.”&nbsp; There was a sad look on her face, a pouting expression before she settled back on her feet.&nbsp; “You see and then you need cleaner and I can come pick up your new clothes and they will always be new when Fu Leng is done.”&nbsp; There was a quick nod as if the matter was settled.<br><br>The smaller woman then turned to look at the store as if for the first time realizing there were interesting items around her.&nbsp; “What do you sell?”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>auroraChloe</strong> on <strong>13-05-2014, 18:51:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/a16483c2858f862945634d46b9ad41b9/tumblr_mh480oybdg1r64urio1_500.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jaelyn Scot-Jones<br><strong>Faction:</strong> (n/a)<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 12th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> mid-day<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jones’ Mercantile &amp; Trade<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Jai-Li, open<br><hr> <br>It seemed the petite girl was going for the hard sell.&nbsp; Jaelyn’s smile faltered, not understanding the language barrier around thanks-but-no-thanks. &nbsp;(https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=167802.msg9943391#msg9943391) <strong>“Oneca?”</strong>&nbsp; That certainly wasn’t a name she was familiar with.&nbsp; Mrs Clarke’s name was Bethany and her assistant was Alice, some relative Jae assumed.&nbsp; <br><br>There was no misunderstanding the wistful memory of a pretty ribbon.&nbsp; Though they had different reasons for not sporting such feminine frippery, the feeling was something Jaelyn could relate to.&nbsp; Long ago she had asked why God wanted his flock so bland and severe when lilies of the field and sparrows and such were so light and pretty - not that she’d seen much of that sort of thing, but she’d heard.&nbsp; Her momma was from further east than Denver and used to tell her stories.&nbsp; Used to was a long time ago.&nbsp; Besides, the question had earned her some time in the prayer closet to ponder the sin of vanity.<br><br>Not quite certain what, if anything, she'd agreed to there finally came a question she could answer.&nbsp; Still Jaelyn wondered who was this girl that she didn’t know Thommy Jones?&nbsp; It seemed the half the population had come today alone and all were quite familiar with Thommy and the merchandise.&nbsp; In any case, Jaelyn stepped this way and that as she gave a mostly verbal tour of her birthright (https://elliquiy.com/wiki/DeadlandsGomorraMinersPeril#Jones.E2.80.99_Mercantile_.26_Trade.2A.2A).&nbsp; Pointing out key items of interest, she tried to keep pride from flavoring her speech too heavily.&nbsp; <br><br>The side walls were lined with cubby like shelves of varying sizes, in these were organized such things as dishes, flatware, spices, canteens, mess kits, beans in sealed tins, fruit in sealed jars, decks of cards, shoes, sulfur matches, lamp wicks and oil, hand tools and mining equipment.&nbsp; Two long islands of similar shelving ran half the length of the floor, while barrels were placed to hold tools - picks, axes, shovels, brooms.&nbsp; Bulk dry goods - flour, salt, sugar, coffee, chicory - were closer to the counter where they could be weighed, packaged before being paid for.&nbsp; High up on the walls, well out of reach for even the tallest of men, were several chair styles hanging from hooks, and strangely enough, laid out and nailed flat, were two different dresses,two different mens’ shirts, and a heavy denim pant.&nbsp; The chairs were display only, their matches found in bulk in the rear storage area and picked up at the large delivery door in the back of the building.&nbsp; The clothes, found on the shelves below their sacrificed samples and others, were simple and made of sturdy fabric to last through the harsh mesa climate and lifestyle.&nbsp; There were bolts of cloth in browns, blacks and ivory, with only a splash of color in blue, green or calico - not too flashy here, no bright reds, no flowery yellows.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>To Jaelyn’s relief, except for the canned stuff, a very popular side of bacon and the occasional bushel of fresh fruit, Thommy avoided selling food.&nbsp; Fresh dairy, eggs and vegetables required proper storage and he had dedicated that space to explosives.&nbsp; She would need to replenish both the bacon and the explosives after this morning’s orders were filled.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br><strong>“We’ve a bit of ribbon here.”</strong>&nbsp; The young merchant brought the dusty china doll’s attention to a small array of sewing notions close by.&nbsp; There were needles and thread for repair or upgrade, several narrow bins of buttons, half a dozen pegs holding spools of ribbons and lace trim.&nbsp; Most very plain and simple, with the occasional bit that was prettier than the rest.&nbsp; It wasn’t that her father was a severe man who didn’t appreciate such things as pretty ribbons and bows or fancy buttons on a lady.&nbsp; Hadn’t he special ordered scented soaps, milled and wrapped in pretty paper, wisely keeping them behind the glass at the sale counter?&nbsp; The truth was that Thommy was still a miner in many ways.&nbsp; His eye leaned toward a good utilitarian bargain.&nbsp; At least on the store shelves, the lure of fancy French soap included.<br><br>Curiosity finally got the best of her manners.&nbsp; <strong>“Are you also new to the area?&nbsp; You don’t seem to know my father.”</strong>&nbsp; With a sheepish laugh, she added, <strong>"And everyone in Gomorra seems to know him.”</strong><br><br><br><br><div align="center">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/55/Doomtown_Jones_Store_Banner.jpeg)</div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>esclavage</strong> on <strong>14-05-2014, 05:26:48</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/3d/Ginny_03a.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Virginia <em><strong>'Ginny'</strong></em> Mary Lou Whateley<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Whateley Family<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 12th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> Burnham Detection Agency<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Avery; OPEN<br><hr> <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Ginny easily sauntered after the man who briskly ushered her in.&nbsp; A charming smile was given in his direction; she liked it when others attended to her and he was attentive indeed.&nbsp; Even if it was simply because she was a potential client - Ginny was impressed at how smoothly he transitioned her into his office even as she took a seat without being offered one - neatly crossing her right leg over her left.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;While on her way in, those sharp green eyes had missed little - Ginny noted the picture of England's queen hanging in the waiting area before passing by an older catalog for potential clients to peruse through while waiting for said man to become available.&nbsp; But for her?&nbsp; With her obvious, unstated wealth?&nbsp; She was first in an non-existent line, a fact she still took a bit of pride in.&nbsp; And in the office, there were more curios and oddities - like the buffalo head and rifle hanging above it.&nbsp; Or the various clippings and articles that mentioned the brilliant investigator by name - Avery Burnham.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;And then, Avery impressed again - displaying his own awareness by noting Ginny's presence at Babel's Tower last evening - plus adding in another compliment.&nbsp; While she was perfectly aware it may have been flattery, the young Whateley still neatly preened when she was recognized as a 'true lady of class'.&nbsp; Honestly, a cynical person might have noted that the only thing larger than the Stenson perched on Ginny's head was her swollen ego.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;That Stenson was now removed as she lightly fanned herself with it even as Avery fiddled with the blinds to allow more light to come into the room.&nbsp; First things were first - introductions needed to be made.&nbsp; <strong>"Virginia Whateley,"</strong> she pronounced her own name and held out her hand to be shaken, and if Avery wanted, to be kissed.&nbsp; <strong>"But yuh kin jist call muh Ginny, Mistuh Burnham."</strong>&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Next was to address his concern about a possible theft.&nbsp; <strong>"Nawh, ain't had nothin' stolen from muh,"</strong> she remarked, putting to rest his speculation.&nbsp; Leaning forward, her voice dropped a notch as if she was concerned about being overheard.&nbsp; Or because it simply made for better dramatic effect.&nbsp; <strong>"Ah'm 'ere fer much bigger things; ah think we've gots a case o'fowl play."</strong><br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Her tone was a matter-of-fact and at Avery's prompting gaze Ginny launched into a fairly long-winded tirade about how her friend, Annie, was meant to be the opening act at the Babel's Tower.&nbsp; How she mysteriously came down with an illness right before the performance, and despite her own sick friend insisting nothing was wrong, Ginny suspected the singer - Bella Capri.&nbsp; It was so obvious!&nbsp; She had all the motive and everything to gain from eliminating the competition!&nbsp; Well, she may fooled others with her fluttering eyelashes and throaty, seductive voice - but Virginia Mary Lou Whateley was on the case now!!<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Tilting her head to regard the man before her, Ginny then gave a beatific smile.&nbsp; <strong>"That's w'are yuh cum in, Mistuh Burnham.&nbsp; Ah'd like tah put yuh on the case 'nd bring the harpy tah justice,"</strong>&nbsp; All smiles now, she produced a golden eagle and idly spent it spinning in a glittering golden circle around the office table.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"It'll be more than worth yer while,"</strong>&nbsp; her words, and more importantly her wealth, were an iron-clad promise.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Niferbelle</strong> on <strong>14-05-2014, 15:38:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://i627.photobucket.com/albums/tt357/Niferbelle/my%20avatars/doomtown7av_zps641b8122.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Lilah 'Li-Li' Oliver (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=200832.msg9813377#msg9813377)<br><strong>Faction:</strong> There have been a few rumors but who listens to those<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 21<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> afternoon<br><strong>Location:</strong> outside the Five and Dime<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Reid, open<br><hr>Maybe it didn’t matter if you were a solitary person, maybe some things were too big for one person regardless. Just seeing a friendly face, the chance to speak of the trouble on her mind was already making her feel a touch better not that cheerful would be possible while there was a madwoman wielding a wolfman around town. Still, she felt a little guilty too, seeing his smile – it was a nice one – and knowing if she told him what she knew, she might not be seeing it again for awhile, then again, the greatest danger was that he was going to think she was crazy as a loon and not believe a word of it. Jack would believe her but he wasn’t here and him coming to town at this particular time was a bad idea. All this worry was reflected in Lilah’s eyes and the smile she tried to give him in return didn’t quite take. <br><br>“Afternoon, Reid,” she greet him and took a quick glance around. Nobody was paying them any particular attention but the street was moderately crowded and she didn’t want to take any chances. She gestured for him to walk with her. “I was hopin’ I could talk to you ‘bout somethin’ that happened last night. I got no right to ask it but I don’t rightly know anybody else in town I can talk to but if I had my druthers I’d rather not do it where there are so many ears.”<br><br>As she spoke she continued stealing glances at him. It was probably her imagination but she thought he might have actually looked like he was glad to see her. If that was the case, boy was he going to change his mind when she spilled her guts. It made her a little sad. “I just wantcha to know I ain’t crazy, no matter what it sounds like. And I don’t mean to make my trouble yours, I just need an ear to bend and maybe a little advice.”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Strangefate</strong> on <strong>16-05-2014, 10:18:14</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/f2/Beardycox.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; &nbsp;Avery Burnham<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Law Dogs (1)<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 12th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> Burnham Detective Agency&nbsp; <br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Ginny, Bella (mentioned)<br><hr> <br>Avery took Virginia's offered hand in his own and brought it lightly to his lips with a gentleman's nod.&nbsp; When she spoke, however, something discordant passed briefly through his eyes.&nbsp; The heavy accent was unexpected.&nbsp; Native to the American south, he supposed.&nbsp; He had never actually heard one in person, Kansas being the furthest south he'd gone before heading west.&nbsp; The methods for mangling the King's English seemed to be inexhaustible in this country though.&nbsp; &nbsp;Yet it seemed incongruous to the woman's carefully arranged appearance somehow, and he almost wondered if she was putting him on. <br><br>"Ms. Ginny then," he replied after a moment, smiling politely.&nbsp; "Very kind of you.&nbsp; Avery will suffice for me as well.&nbsp; I hope I can be of some service." <br><br>And so the lady began to explain.&nbsp; By the time she'd finished, he had found his seat behind the desk, folding down the curled edges of his magazine while again wondering if he was being led into some elaborate joke.&nbsp; Had Charlie Flatbush entered the office that moment, grinning, he would not have been entirely surprised.&nbsp; The Whateley woman seemed quite sincere though.&nbsp; She actually did seem to believe that the new songbird from Babel's had taken up the art of poisoning for the rare honor of singing to room full of drunken miners in a Gomorran brothel.&nbsp; It struck him as just slightly unlikely.<br><br>For weeks now, he had been hoping for an interesting first case with which to prove himself, something that would get people whispering his name as a man who produced results.&nbsp; This was most assuredly not that.&nbsp; The town might be whispering if they got wind of it, but hardly in the way he was wanting.&nbsp; To top it all off she was now brashly spinning a gold eagle across his desktop while promising to make it worth his while.&nbsp; No doubt a crude display of wealth intended to entice him, but it mostly just grated.&nbsp; <br><br>This whole week was starting to grate in fact.&nbsp; First he'd wasted an entire night in transporting a drunken stranger home when the tables were bound to be at their softest.&nbsp; Now he was being hired for a fool's errand.&nbsp; Worse he was being hired for it by a Whateley, the very family that was on his short list of desirable clients.&nbsp; He couldn't simply turn her down, not very easily, not if he wanted to see any more clients from their social circle come his way anytime soon.&nbsp; Especially with the prospect of being genuinely broke growing perilously nearer with every passing week.<br><br>So that was decided then.&nbsp; Almost without his input it seemed, which did not do much to improve his mood.<br><br>Not that he let that show.&nbsp; Avery was far too polite for that.&nbsp; Even his insults were often indiscernible from compliments, particularly to those used to the gruff bluntness of your average Gomorran cowpoke.&nbsp; "An interesting…theory, Ms. Ginny.&nbsp; My goodness.&nbsp; I admit one I might not have settled on as a first possibility, but then I am new to this town.”&nbsp; Perhaps this sort of thing went on with great frequency here, women poisoning each other willy-nilly for the chance to entertain in dancehalls and crib houses.&nbsp; He rather doubted that too.&nbsp; "I can certainly look into it for you.&nbsp; I can't promise you'll receive the results you want of course."&nbsp; For reasons that should be fairly obvious, he would have liked to add.&nbsp; "One is, ah, not likely to just admit to a bit of light poisoning, you know.&nbsp; Rather hard to prove on the whole."&nbsp; <br><br>He looked across the desk at Ginny with her fine clothes and golden eagle, and made his decision.&nbsp; If she was passing out her excess money, he may as well be the one to take it, and so make the best of the situation.&nbsp; There were undoubtedly worse places to spend one's time than the Babel's Hotel, after all.&nbsp; "Something like this, I think it's best to approach things with a soft touch.&nbsp; We wouldn't want to besmirch Miss Capri's name unfairly, after all, or offend Mr. Solomon by starting rumors about his staff.&nbsp; Give me a couple weeks and I will make some private inquiries, see what I can unearth about Ms. Capri, perhaps get her talking if I can."&nbsp; Which was one of the job details he was anticipating as being something less than a misery, actually.&nbsp; Perhaps even enjoyable. "I'll require fifteen dollars a day, which includes expenses, as I'll obviously need to spend a good deal of time at the hotel and they tend to frown on non-paying customers, I imagine."&nbsp; <br><br>Avery stood again, offering up another polite smiling.&nbsp; "I'll also require the first week's pay upfront, and I can give you an update in five days time, if you like.&nbsp; If there's some backroom scheme at play against your friend, I'll bring it to light, Ms. Ginny."&nbsp; He then extended his hand to help her up and escort Miss Whateley back outside.&nbsp; The thought that Ginny might intend to supervise his investigation personally having never yet even crossed his mind…&nbsp; &nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>esclavage</strong> on <strong>17-05-2014, 16:16:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/3d/Ginny_03a.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Virginia <em><strong>'Ginny'</strong></em> Mary Lou Whateley<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Whateley Family<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 12th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> Burnham Detection Agency<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Avery; Bella (mentioned); OPEN<br><hr> <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;At Avery's dry speculation, Ginny did not respond right away.&nbsp; Instead, the young Whateley seemed engrossed with the spinning golden eagle on the detective's desk.&nbsp; As the rotation began to slow, she gave it a light flick - sending a fresh jolt of energy as the coin spun with renewed fervor.&nbsp; In fact, it seemed that the young Whateley was barely paying attention at all to her surroundings - being oblivious in a way that only somoeone born into wealth was.&nbsp; It was almost like she expected the entire world to wait on her.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Even with the mention of the conditions of his acceptance for her small job, Ginny still appeared to be not pay attention.&nbsp; Instead, she had added more golden eagles to the mix.&nbsp; One, two, three - there were now four coins spinning on the desk, dancing across the surface gracefully like the variety of women and men attended one of the balls her Granny held now and again.&nbsp; And Virginia seemed to have own a new game to amuse her - rapidly flicking the coins so they continued to spin.&nbsp; But after a few seconds, a new facet was added as she began to flick the golden eagles so they spun towards one another before bouncing off each other violently - jumping across Avery's desk as Ginny - with her vivid green eyes and her nimble fingers chased after them to keep them spinning.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;It was only when Ginny mistimed one of her flicks - one golden eagle bouncing too violently to slide off the desk to land somewhere on the floor below did she give a small huff before she tucked one long, blonde strand of hair behind her ear.&nbsp; The other three golden eagles were allowed to spin down and rattle against the wood of the desk as they lay there, bright gold contrasting with the darker wood.&nbsp; Then, she looked directly into Avery's eyes - those bright green eyes almost shining with a hungry, predatory light.&nbsp; A beatific smile was then given in the man's direction, as the glow of her eyes faded back into her normal expression.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The proffered hand to escort her back out was ignored for the moment.&nbsp; Pulling open her blue overcoat, she pulled forth a small pouch.&nbsp; Carelessly, it was dropped on the desk of Avery Burnham as it made a very pleasing <em>clink </em>of heavy coin.&nbsp; And if the size was anything to go by, Ginny had just given approximately twice the stated amount asked for.&nbsp; <strong>"Yur wrig't.&nbsp; Yu'll need tah make many fri'nds at the Tow'r.&nbsp; Best way tah do t'at is tuh give freely - jist like the good Lor' ta'ght us."</strong><br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"...'sides,"</strong> Ginny remarked lightly.&nbsp; <strong>"Can't be causin' no scene fer Mistuh Solomon.&nbsp; Ah wurk fer him now."</strong>&nbsp; That thought seemed to amuse Ginny greatly as her smile grew wider until she almost seemed to be beaming.&nbsp; <strong>"And dun yuh worry none, Mistuh Avery!&nbsp; Ah wou'dn't dream o'saying no lies 'bout Miss Bella!&nbsp; Ah jist want tah care fer mu'friend is all!"</strong>&nbsp; An almost careless shrug was now given as that dangerous light momentarily reappeared in Ginny's gaze.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"But dun be surpr'sed if we stumble 'cross uh half-empty tincture o'belladonna."</strong>&nbsp; A quick gaze was given around the room once again at all the saved clippings of his life back in England.&nbsp; <strong>"Yu'd mak' quite the splash, catchin' o'poisoner right 'ere in Gomorra."</strong>&nbsp; The words were spoken lightly, but were anything but that.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Now, she gracefully took the proffered hand and rose to her feet.&nbsp; But rather than being waited to be lead out, she tilted her chin to indicate that Avery should take the pouch of coin.&nbsp; The remainder four golden eagles - three on the desk, one somewhere on the floor were blithely ignored - seemingly dismissed from Ginny's mind.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; <strong>"Now then, no time tah start lik'the prese't - idle hands'nd all t'at.&nbsp; Ah'll le'd the way...parnder!"</strong>&nbsp; And with a firm declaration of their new relationship status and an even firmer tug, Ginny began to drag Avery out of his own office - fully intent on heading to Babel's Tower this very morning and getting to work!<br><br>--&gt; END SCENE: Continued in Babel's Tower (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=200884.msg10015444#msg10015444)
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>esclavage</strong> on <strong>17-05-2014, 16:50:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/0e/Ginny_Avatar.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Virginia <em><strong>'Ginny'</strong></em> Mary Lou Whateley<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Whateley Family<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 15th<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Afternoon<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jones' Mercantile &amp; Trading Post<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Jaelyn, Whippersnappers, OPEN<br><hr> <br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>" 'Ow 'bout this o'er 'ere?"</strong>&nbsp; Ginny asked, pointing to yet another jar - which just conveniently happened to be very inconvenient for Jaelyn to go and retrieve.&nbsp; For over an hour already, the young Whateley had been playing this game with the poor shopkeep - asking for this and for that, always pointing to items that were difficult to retrieve off the shelves or out of the other woman's way.&nbsp; Giving that wide, innocent smile as Jaelyn had to get a stool, crouch awkwardly, or contort herself in some odd fashion to get the item Ginny was requesting.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Of course, the sizable pile of items sitting on the counter was the other woman's reward for listening and obeying Virginia's petulant demands.&nbsp; Ginny had been one of Thommy Jones' best customers if the ledger was anything to go by.&nbsp; Most of the finer store items were purchased by her; in particular, the spoiled scion seemed to adore a certain aloe cream that Mr. Jones had especially shipped to his store.&nbsp; It was worth a pretty penny, but if the purchases were anything to go by - the cost had been well worth it.&nbsp; And if Ginny's pale, fair skin was anything to go by - the cream worked as well as it had been advertised.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;If the young Whateley recognized Jaelyn as the girl she had insulted on her way into Babel's Tower; she gave no sign.&nbsp; But what was clear that was Ginny did derive some pleasure in making the other woman scurry around for her.&nbsp; There was a sparkle in those green Whateley eyes that was not entirely kind - but not particularly malicious either.&nbsp; Thus far, any unkind comparison to her and her father - and how Jaelyn was lacking as the store's owner when compared to him - were left unsaid, but they hung in the air like a poisonous cloud of ghostrock fumes - just waiting for the opportunity to venomously leak out.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"Hrm, nawh.&nbsp; Dun want it.&nbsp; But 'ow 'bout t'at ov'r thar?"</strong>&nbsp; Ginny remarked only after a second once Jaelyn had retrieved and brought the jar - an arduous task given the jar had been on the lowest shelf in the store - almost to the floor.&nbsp; And now her finger was pointing yet in another end of the store as she leaned up against the counter, her elbows propped in a perfect picture of ease and indolence.&nbsp; Idly, she snapped the fingers of her right hand in a show of impatience.&nbsp; <strong>"Hur'y it up 'here; Ah've need tah git going!"</strong><br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; But all that was interrupted by the sudden commotion of all the Whippersnappers outside as the blonde Whateley paused to curiously tilt her head in their direction.&nbsp; Now while she did not know any of the Whippersnappers persay by name,&nbsp; Ginny used their services frequently and she might have had something of a softer spot for them.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Still, she did gave off an air of pique as she slowly straightened before running both her hands through her long, blonde hair and tossing it out behind her.&nbsp; If it was one thing that Ginny disliked in life, it was being interrupted when she was in rare form.&nbsp; <strong>"Ah gues' we shou'd go'nd see wot the're talkin'bout,"</strong> she remarked, including herself with Jaelyn even though it was only the shopkeep the Whippersnappers had asked for.&nbsp; After all, if anything interesting was really happening, Ginny wanted to know about it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Strangefate</strong> on <strong>19-05-2014, 08:34:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/f2/Beardycox.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; &nbsp;Avery Burnham<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Law Dogs (1)<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 12th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> Burnham Detective Agency to Babel's Tower<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Ginny, Bella (mentioned);&nbsp; OPEN (tho preferably in Babel thread)<br><hr> <br>As an awkward silence settled over the little office, Avery found his attention drawn to Ginny's spinning coins despite himself.&nbsp; She kept the four glittering eagles in twirling flight for a surprisingly long stretch, her swift nimble fingers shifting from one to the next, until at the last the gold discs teetered to a stop on the wood.&nbsp; Surely an exciting moment for the table; this was the most money it had seen pass over its surface since he'd moved in.&nbsp; He was not entirely immune to its charms either, especially when she tossed a hefty little sack into the center.<br><br>Avery liked to imagine himself a man mostly above such base desires as greed.&nbsp; He was an intellectual first and foremost in his own estimation, a superior mind that rebelled against the boredom and repetition of what most people considered regular lives.&nbsp; The detective game was a challenge to him, a way to pit himself against others and best them in a way didn't involve grunt labor or pistol play.&nbsp; &nbsp;It gave him the goad he needed to get out of bed in the morning, a reason to be.&nbsp; &nbsp;Sometimes, at least.<br><br>Nevertheless the act of having to count one's funds as they gradually dwindled before one's eyes had a way of focusing even a superior mind on such humdrum concerns as food and shelter.&nbsp; It did not take him too long to pick up the little bag and test its weight.&nbsp; He'd already accepted the job, after all.&nbsp; No reason to be coy about taking the payment, although there was something about the easy self-assured manner of the Whateley woman that pricked his pride.&nbsp; He had a suspicion she'd never doubted it, or likely even considered his refusal a possibility.&nbsp; <br><br>He wondered how often it was Ms. Ginny didn't get what she wanted.&nbsp; And just what that bud of dangerous light in her eye might blossom into when she was firmly denied.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>"Yes.&nbsp; Well.&nbsp; I suppose that will do," he noted rather unnecessarily, tucking the pouch inside his coat while she informed him of her good intentions.&nbsp; Not out to cause a scene, wouldn't dream of spreading mischief about Miss Capri, and, oh, be sure to keep a keen eye out for any open bottles of poison left sitting around.&nbsp; Part of him wondered if that was a suggestion or something of a promise.&nbsp; He rather hoped not.&nbsp; This whole situation had the potential to end foolishly enough, without it actually involving anything genuinely malicious. <br><br>The word partner - 'pardner' in her slightly irksome parlance - stuck him like a sharp flick between the eyes and he was halfway to being tugged out the front door, snatching his hat from the stand mid-flight, before he had fully recovered.&nbsp; "Actually, I tend not to work with others.&nbsp; Something of a rule, never really waver from it.&nbsp; It puts a crimp on my…ah, personal style you could say.&nbsp; Style of detection, I mean to say.&nbsp; You see there's a particular, almost scientific, method to these things.&nbsp; &nbsp;Have to be approached the right way, requiring a certain degree of subtlety…."&nbsp; He glanced at her fanciful outfit again and recalled the sack of coins jingling in his pocket.&nbsp; She looked like she knew from subtlety alright.&nbsp; "…and, well…"&nbsp; Avery sighed inwardly, trailing off at that.&nbsp; &nbsp;It was a pointless argument anyways, as they were almost halfway to the Babel now and it was not as though he could simply send her home.&nbsp; "So be it.&nbsp; If you wish to observe me, I suppose you've paid enough for the right.&nbsp; Do let me handle the talking though.&nbsp; No mention of poison or poisoning, please.&nbsp; We just want to start by finding out what we can about Miss Capri.&nbsp; Subtlety," he reminded her with a somewhat forced smile, carefully straightening his jacket.<br><br>Making the rest of the trek to the hotel in a decidedly more orderly fashion, he reached out to get the door as they arrived, indicating she should go first.&nbsp; When a thing was decided, it was decided, and this 'pardnership' was apparently already that.&nbsp; &nbsp;There was no point in him being unpleasant about it.&nbsp; "Miss Ginny.&nbsp; Let our investigation begin then, shall we?" <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Josietta</strong> on <strong>21-05-2014, 04:45:54</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/9e/JohnnyJacobson.png)</div> <div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5b/CeCe.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Johnny Jacobson (NPC) &amp; CeCe (NPC)<br><strong>Faction:</strong>N/A<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 15th<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> afternoon<br><strong>Location:</strong> Heading for Jones Mercantile<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open<br><hr><br>Johnny came walking into town moving at an easy pace as usual.&nbsp; He glanced over at the woman who walked next to him with a basket in her arms. His pa had told him to take Miss Cece into town to sell some eggs and pick up a few items from the mercantile. Now Johnny had always had a thing for Miss Cece but such affairs were unheard of in his family, as she was thought to be the offspring of an indian, and his father had whipped him once already for finding him between the woman's thighs rutting away.&nbsp; He couldn't help but be drawn to who he considered an exotic and beautiful woman. He couldn't help himself and she didn't seem to mind as far as he could tell. He looked down at his boots with a dimpled smile at his own thoughts a moment.<br><br>He looked around at the people that was in town while they walked, always on the look out for any trouble. He tugged off his hat next and pushed one hand back through his dusty brown hair, pushing it away from his sweaty brow. The dust covered man then sat the old brown leather hat back onto his head. He held out a hand to help the woman step up off the street. Many men would have left her to her own devices. Lord knows his uncle Jessup would have but then he didn't like anything to do with anyone that wasn't white. Something he would argue if he had enough sense to know what to say. <br><br>Johnny wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer and many had seen him as a simpleton even though he was a hard worker. He knew how to build just about anything you could think of and did a good job at it. He just wasn't that great with common sense or reading, writing and arithmetic. He had never been to school or been taught anything of the sort as his father didn't see any point in it. He had all the skills he needed to survive. Farming, building, hunting, and shoeing a horse. As long as he could do the basics that's all that mattered to him. So Johnny took his Pa's word as truth and fact and never said anything against it. <br><br>For all that Johnny lacked, he made up for in his trade skill and his looks. He was one of the finer looking fellas in Gomorra and had tried to court a few of the girls but it never ended well.&nbsp; He always did something to mess it up and ended up looking the fool for it, so he just stopped trying. Though with what little money he did have, you could find him at the local saloon. He didn't talk much but he liked to watch and look at the pretty women who worked there. That was maybe once every couple of weeks but typically he was seen gathering materials in town for the farm or bringing in Cece to do trading. She was the only woman left on the farm since last winter when his Ma passed on from the fever.<br><br>Cece took the handsome farm boy's hand and held up the skirts of her simple cotton dress with the same hand. The dress didn't leave a glimpse of skin visible anywhere, covering her legs until it dusted the ground and down over her arms to the wrist. The high neckline kept her overly warm and sweating a little from it. She was thankful for her well fitted bonnet as it kept the sun from her face and eyes, but also kept in the heat that threatened to boil her alive. It was always tied neatly under her chin where it wouldn't fly off while riding along in the carriage. She tried not to draw attention anywhere she went if she could help it and especially with Johnny there to help her out. He got in one too many fisticuffs because of her already. She dusted off her apron and slid her arm through the basket holding it at her front. She nodded to the simple man and they started on their way toward the mercantile.&nbsp; Cece's dark silken hair was braided and pinned up under the bonnet and her honey brown&nbsp; eyes shone bright when she smiled at the young man to her side.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Untamed Skies</strong> on <strong>22-05-2014, 05:47:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i277.photobucket.com/albums/kk59/Untamed_skies/9c4d7342-66e5-4a03-96db-6e391ad6eb88_zps7ecf9012.jpg) (http://s277.photobucket.com/user/Untamed_skies/media/9c4d7342-66e5-4a03-96db-6e391ad6eb88_zps7ecf9012.jpg.html)</div><strong>Name</strong>: Reid Lawson<br><strong>Faction</strong>: none<br><strong>Date</strong>: May 21<br><strong>Time of Day</strong>: afternoon<br><strong>Location</strong>: outside the Five and Dime<br><strong>Tagged</strong>: Lilah, Open<br><br><br><br><br><br>In many ways it was a good thing that Reid had come across Lilah, least as far as he was concerned. There were plenty of people who he had decided he liked that he never so much as glanced at again. Probably cause some of them got killed, and others just left. There were also the type that enjoyed making friends for a day. Still as Lilah greeted him it felt more like a thing he'd expect old friends to do. That odd feeling was only reinforced as Lilah spoke about needin' to talk to him bout problems she was havin' that she didn't rightfully want anyone to overheard. Or at least as she gestured for him to walk with her certainly seemed what she wanted. Reid found it a bit odd she was comin' to him for help. She'd said she hadn't met many folks that she liked but now Reid was believin it. It was strange to have someone relyin' on him that quickly after only just meeting him, then again he was happy to do what he could to. "You're not hurt or nothin'," he asked his eyes traveling from her face to look over her form. She wasn't bleedin far as he could tell, but then maybe the wounds were just under her clothes. He wasn't goin' to ask her to go strippin to find out neither. "If I can help with even if it's just putting your mind at ease I'll do my best," he added after a few moments realizin'&nbsp; he hadn't exactly said yes.<br><br>As she continued to speak her words would cause his eyebrow to raise up in interest. Usually when someone started what they needed to say with reassurance they weren't crazy, it indicated that's exactly what they were about to sound like. Course crazy thing about crazy soundin' things was that, more often then not they were true. Least round these parts he'd discovered. "I doubt whatever you're gonna tell me is gonna convince me I'll of regretted hearin it," he said with a nod what was supposed to be a reassurin smile. "First sign you're not crazy is knowing what you're about to say sounds like you are," he added chuckling a bit as he spoke. "Or least means you ain't gone crazy just yet," he added hoping that a friendly and playful tone might ease some of the tension. Granted he'd only seen the girl once before but her attitude seemed much different. Something was clearly eating at her. He just hoped he could do something to calm her down. <br><br>He'd glance around and move with her down to what seemed to be a less crowded area along the streets. At least a place where people would be less interested in what they were talking about. In some ways lookin' to make sure it wasn't the kind of trouble like she was being followed or something. It was kind of stretch based on what she said, but she did seem to be glancin' around a awful lot. Either what she was about to say was so far out there someone listenin' in might just decide she was looney and take her away on the spot, or it was somethin' else. Danger? He wasn't sure exactly what to expect, but when everyone was out of earshot he'd tilt his head. "You don't need to hesitate, I doubt there is anythin' so crazy I'll go runnin' in the other direction," he said. "Promise not to laugh either," he said placing his hand against his chest with a smile. Hoping if she was still trying to decide whether or not she should be talking with that he might've swayed her to the other side. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Loves</strong> on <strong>24-05-2014, 04:15:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5b/GkkRrdlkcwlI.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Aletta Emelda Maria Sanchez (aka Letty) (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=200832.msg9815927#msg9815927)<br><strong>Faction:</strong> none<br><strong>Date:</strong> Sunday, May 14th, 1877<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning,&nbsp; during Church (she will be late for Church) <br><strong>Location:</strong> Avery’s office&nbsp; -&nbsp; Gomorra<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> &nbsp;Her Sunday Best &nbsp;(http://i975.photobucket.com/albums/ae240/samanthamazur/penelope-cruz-fanfan-la-tulipe_zps69f0d050.jpg)<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Avery&nbsp; <br><hr><br><div style="text-align: justify;">Letty arrived into town alongside Aggy, as was their routine every Sunday, like clockwork. The church called the ladies with the comforting ringing of the bells, reminding all those sinners (and there were a lot) that the house of god was open for business.&nbsp; Dressed in her Sunday best, Letty slipped from the carriage and helped Aggy, smiling as the older woman swatted Letty’s hands in the process. Aggy was fiercely proud, much like Letty herself, but the smile on Aggy’s face cut any bitterness that might have lingered from the offer of help. <br><br><strong>”Stop fussing girl. I’m not dead yet”</strong> grumbled Aggy as she climbed down from the carriage that had been part of the ranch for much longer than seemed possible. It wasn’t in the best of shape, but it managed to hold together and get the job done. <br><br>Letty softly chuckled, releasing her hold and stepping back, out of her friend and employer’s way. <strong>”It’s a good thing too. You would be arriving in a pine box if that were the case”</strong> chirped Letty and earning a playful glare from Aggy. <strong>”Better get&nbsp; all that out of the way now. You’ll have to smile at folk once you past those doors”</strong> teased Letty, earning a chuckle from her friend this time. <br><br>The two women made their way towards the church when Letty paused suddenly. She had been trying to ignore the nagging sensation that had weighed heavily upon her for a few days. The face of one man continued to haunt her, at first only in her dreams, and the gradually filling her waking hours.&nbsp; She couldn’t stop thinking about Avery. He had assisted her when she was in need of help, and she had yet to thank him properly. It had nothing to do with wanting to see him again for any other reason… or at least that was what she had told herself, firmly! <br><br><strong>”Come on girl, you’re slower than molasses! Whatcha waitin’ fer? It ain’t like God himself is gonna come down to personally invite cha-in”</strong> <br><br>It was all Letty could do not to roll her eyes. <strong>”I got some business I need to take care of. I gotta do it now or I won’t get another moment of peace”</strong> She was already moving, walking backwards as she explained her sudden need to be elsewhere. <strong>”Save me a seat Aggy, I won’t be long!”</strong> <br><br>Aggy shook her head and turned on the balls of her feet, making her way into the church. Letty had been acting odd ever since she had stayed out all night after their argument a few days prior. Aggy had been more worried than she liked to admit. She had felt guilty letting it slip that the letters her brother had supposedly written, luring the pretty Mexican across country, had not actually come from his hand. The man Letty had fallen in love with was in fact a mystery man, and not the one buried on the far northern side of the ranch. Still, she respected Letty’s need for space and figured the girl would return when she was ready. <br><br>The ranch owner had heard through gossip some of the details of Letty’s good time at Babel’s Tower. She hadn’t said much on the subject, figuring that Letty had suffered enough after indulging in too much drink. Besides, Letty was a full grown woman who could stand on her own two feet, Aggy was not there to babysit. <br><br>Letty walked at first with determined purpose, though the closer she got to Ballot Boulevard the slower her pace became. A soft pink tone kissed her cheeks as she fell victim to her own embarrassment. His letter was still tucked against her breast where she had tucked it away that morning for safe keeping. Perhaps the idea to visit Avery that morning had always been her plan, at least unconsciously. Why Sunday?&nbsp; Perhaps it was for the convenience, or perhaps it was because she would look her best, counteracting the way she must have looked the last time they met face to face. But that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? After all why did it matter what he thought of her? Right? It didn’t matter.. or did it? There were too many questions that needed answering, but Letty wasn’t sure she was ready to learn the answers, and so she pushed them to the back of her mind and locked them away for another day. <br><br>The Burnham Independent Detection and Security Agency stood before her, innocent in its appearance, yet Letty couldn’t help but feel the building was mocking her. Mindlessly she pressed her hand against the letter currently sitting heavily against her skin. He had been kind when he didn’t need to be, now she had to face the music and thank him properly! Swallowing her pride, Maddie moved forward and stepped into the building as silent as a mouse. Perhaps if she remained still her presence would go unnoticed and then she could say she had attempted, but it simply wasn’t in the cards.&nbsp; She could always leave a note on the back of his note! <br><br>The door closed quietly behind her with the handle pushing her gently further into the room. The waiting room was sparse, but neat, with several chairs and a bench lining the wall. She moved forward, wondering if she should knock on the inner office door. She hesitated, worried that she might be disturbing him, or perhaps she was attempting to come up with a reasonable excuse to escape…. more questions that would have to remain unanswered. She knew thanking Avery was the right thing to do, and so she called out in a softer than normal voice, causing her to swallow her words, leaving the greeting to hang in the air. <br><br><strong>”Hello...is there…”</strong> a silence hung in the air for a second before Letty whispered <strong>”I can come back later if… I don’t mean to interfere.”</strong> Goodness gracious! She was talking to herself, and not well at that!&nbsp; <br><br><strong>”Oh mi dios Letty podría sonar más de un idiota! Conseguir juntos chica! Rápido!”</strong> she grumbled as she turned , pausing before the front door as if struggling to decide whether she should stay or go. <br></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Strangefate</strong> on <strong>26-05-2014, 05:30:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/f2/Beardycox.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; &nbsp;Avery Burnham<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Law Dogs (1)<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 14th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> Burnham Detective Agency <br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Letty<br><hr> <br>Cyanide.&nbsp; Symptoms included asphyxiation.&nbsp; A favorite of the Roman elite.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Strychnine.&nbsp; Symptoms included contortions and muscle spasms, death in under fifteen minutes.<br><br>Arsenic.&nbsp; Symptoms included severe stomach pain and vomiting, available from any chemist worth his salt as a means of dealing with rat infestations.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Belladonna, or deadly nightshade.&nbsp; Symptoms included increased heart rate, sweating, delirium, death. Formerly used by women as a cosmetic to dilate their eyes.&nbsp; Translated roughly to 'beautiful woman' in Italian, the deadliest of them all, naturally.<br><br>All substances of choice for poisoners throughout the civilized world, most readily available even in a backwater such as Gomorra.&nbsp; Not that Avery really believed he was dealing with a poisoner.&nbsp; He was cataloguing them mainly for his own amusement that morning, a way to focus his thoughts while the rest of the town mumbled their prayers and dozed through the preacher’s sermon.&nbsp; There were plenty of other poisons available of course, some of which if taken at the right dose, weren’t even lethal at all, possibly even beneficial.&nbsp; At least if a man possessed a strong enough will to control it.&nbsp; Holding his right hand he watched it shake for a moment, then clenched it into a tight fist as he heard a quiet voice rising uncertainly from the waiting room.&nbsp; <br><br>“One moment,” Avery called out, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and slipping it on quickly.&nbsp; He buttoned up the bottom two buttons then ran his fingers through his hair to straighten it.&nbsp; Which rather reminded him of two days ago, although this morning was absent the loud banging on his front door.&nbsp; He rather doubted it was Miss Ginny anyways.&nbsp; He couldn’t quite see her being so demurely quiet or waiting patiently for him to respond.&nbsp; Not at this point in their professional relationship.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>It was, however, still a beautiful woman, just the same, dark-haired instead of fair, yet otherwise well dressed in soft white skirt and colorful red corset.&nbsp; Perhaps a friend of his erstwhile employer, but, no, he realized that wasn’t the case either.&nbsp; He knew her face.&nbsp; It just took a minute to place it without the dusty Stetson or the smell of strong whisky in the air.&nbsp; She was also standing on her own power which was new as well.&nbsp; Altogether an entirely different a woman….almost.&nbsp; This one was still every bit as stunning as the other, perhaps more so, with those same arresting brown eyes and dark flowing hair, which was a bit disconcerting to find oneself facing unexpectedly so early in the morning.<br><br>“Ah.&nbsp; Ms. Sanchez,” he announced with a friendly smile.&nbsp; “I almost didn’t recognize you!&nbsp; You look refreshed and in good health, I’m happy to see.&nbsp; Um…please, do come in, if you like.”&nbsp; Avery waved her towards his office area, again conscious of what an ill ramshackle sort of place this was to be entertaining women in.&nbsp; For some reason he’d expected most of his clients would be men.&nbsp; Not that she was a client.&nbsp; He had an idea why she was here actually, and hoped to make it as easy on her as he could.&nbsp; He knew a thing or two about apologizing after an embarrassing lack of judgment himself, after all, and nothing was worse than having that moment unnecessarily prolonged.<br><br>“I’d offer you something to drink but I’m haven’t anything at hand.”&nbsp; Except of course the whiskey in his desk drawer but that seemed in bad taste, and just altogether unwise.&nbsp; “It’s good to see you, although I hope you realize this wasn’t necessary as far as I’m concerned.&nbsp; The other night was a celebration for the whole town and these sort of things happen.&nbsp; It was no trouble, really, and Ms. Henderson did far more than me.&nbsp; Either way, I wouldn’t let it bother you, Ms. Sanchez.&nbsp; No harm came of it and I‘m just glad if I was of any help.&nbsp; I hope someone would do the same if I found myself in a similar situation.” 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>auroraChloe</strong> on <strong>26-05-2014, 06:59:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/a16483c2858f862945634d46b9ad41b9/tumblr_mh480oybdg1r64urio1_500.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jaelyn Scot-Jones<br><strong>Faction:</strong> n/a<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 15th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> afternoon<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jones' Mercantile &amp; Trade<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> a passel of kids, Albert, Ginny, open - Dr ?&nbsp; <br><hr><br>The coarse material began to chafe where seams and edges met tender skin.&nbsp; Also, in her rush to get downstairs she accidentally stove in the side of that horrid cowhide bag only to meet what ever unforgiving bit of business was inside leaving her with a throbbing big toe.&nbsp; She had dragged the hated satchel down stairs, just as she had dragged it across The Maze and over the bridge to Gomorra, with all good intentions of storing it away later when she filled any explosives orders from the special storage room in the cellar.&nbsp; All that though was nothing compared to the embarrassment of effort required to serve one glorified she-devil.&nbsp; <br><br>Jaelyn - railing with silent self-recriminations - could never think herself spoiled, but realized too late that even her old charity clothes were not as coarse as her current choice of dress.&nbsp; The irony&nbsp; was double humbling, as it was she who put herself in this predicament.&nbsp; Mrs Clarke had delivered completed pieces two days prior along with new chemise, petticoat and an entire set of underthings.&nbsp; And while the cost was a fair bit more than expected, after one touch of the soft, well tailored material, Jaelyn couldn’t bring herself to say no thank you.&nbsp; Nor could she bring herself to wear the new pieces in the store; they were much too fine - the most beautiful she’d ever owned in fact - so she’d shelled out the extra coin to pay the store’s till for one of the premades found on the shelf under the old faded and flattened sacrifice.&nbsp; And had counted herself wise.&nbsp; <br><br>When a particular blond coiffed customer entered the store, the young storekeeper realized that her frugal decision was maybe not so wise as she wished it to be.<br><br>The heat of the day, which was bad enough in itself though normal for Gomorra, coupled with the extra exertion required for Ginny Whateley’s frivolous demands left Jaelyn glowing with perspiration.&nbsp; The drab grey hung loosely on her too slender form and quickly stained darker under her arms while great wisps of hair stuck to the edges of her flushed face, framing her frustration.&nbsp; Jaelyn didn’t know whether to cry or spit in the wretch's eye.&nbsp; <br><br>Neither was acceptable behavior, so instead she bit the inside of her cheek until the coppery taste of blood made her take pause.&nbsp; Bloodletting - even her own - was where she drew the line.&nbsp; So Jaelyn took an extra moment while on her knees to grasp the dogwood beads hanging from her slender neck and sent a mindful prayer for patience, true humility, and a great surge of brotherly love.&nbsp; And she gratefully felt the rush of God’s answer; love and support filling her, calming her.&nbsp; Until…<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Hur'y it up 'here; Ah've need tah git going!"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>More than the words, overblown with ego, it was the snapping fingers that got to Jaelyn, as if she was a dog set on to do tricks.&nbsp; The audacity… the gall was just too much!&nbsp; The slight girl stilled, head turning, chin up, blue eyes snapping with cool fire.&nbsp; It had been years since Jaelyn had been riled to such a state of rebellion, an attitude that in years past&nbsp; would result in her behind a locked door in the dark on bruised knees.&nbsp; Gomorra, though, was far from Lost Angels.&nbsp; And here she answered to no one but God.<br><br>Her mouth curved in a tight smile that did not reach her eyes.&nbsp; What would tossing this spoiled brat out on her ear really mean?&nbsp; Jaelyn was happy enough to never see the other woman's milksop face again.&nbsp; The loss of Whateley business was certain, but then who else?&nbsp; How far flung was the Whateley influence?&nbsp; &nbsp; “Miss Whateley, I don't…”&nbsp; <br><br>The scathing retort was interrupted when a clamor of children came in a rush.&nbsp; Irritation with the irksome blond spilled over on the mass of youngsters.&nbsp; “What?&nbsp; Slow down, now.”&nbsp; When would these children learn her name?&nbsp; &nbsp;“Wait now, wait…&nbsp; one at a time.&nbsp; You!”&nbsp; Pointing at a taller, older looking one of the bunch.&nbsp; “What is going on?”<br><br>But Jaelyn was already on the move, a cold pit where her belly used to be, before the reiterating din began.&nbsp; All that was clear was that Albert was injured and with that knowledge, thought for the store or the goods in it or Ginny Whateley went out the window.&nbsp; She knew the children would lead her to him, but even that was not necessary, for there he was, come to her.&nbsp; <br><br>“Oh… Lord!”&nbsp; She grasped once again at the pink hued beads, not taking the Lord’s name in vain as many might have believed, but instead speaking in supplication.&nbsp; The too pale face, the dark stained sleeve; all else was forgotten as she fell to her knees beside the boy, a wall of whippersnappers coming up on her back.&nbsp; “Give us some room, please.”&nbsp; Her voice full of quiet concern as arms spread wide to shoo clear space around the boy.&nbsp; Jaelyn swallowed hard when she saw blood soaking the unnatural bend of his arm.&nbsp; “Someone run to get the doctor.&nbsp; Quickly now!”<br><br>Brushing the infamous curl from the cold, clammy forehead, Jaelyn leaned close.&nbsp; Noting the boy’s shallow breath, she spoke softly.&nbsp; “You silly boy, what have you done to yourself?&nbsp; Hmm?“&nbsp; She smiled into the little face, eyes wet and bright as her hands move gently down over his shoulder, barely touching the soaked, bloody cloth for fear of causing more pain.&nbsp; She grazed over the hard frayed end of bone and shuddered inside.&nbsp; A broken bone could often leading to near crippling results, but this bone broke right through the skin.&nbsp; It was likely the boy would bleed to death before the doctor even arrived unless she could stem the flow of his precious life’s fluid.&nbsp; <br><br>“How long has it been?”&nbsp; A question tossed back over her shoulder.&nbsp; At this point, what happened was less important than how long he was bleeding like this.&nbsp; Even this answer was not important, she realized, because it would still take the doctor too long to arrive.&nbsp; And Albert didn't look able to go any further than the worn planks of the store porch.&nbsp; Circumstances made our choices all too often.&nbsp; <br><br>Hiking up the hated skirt, Jaelyn tore at the fabric until a wide strip fell away to reveal a well-worn petticoat.&nbsp; All the while, she looked at the anxious young faces gathered around.&nbsp; She trusted these children, felt a kinship with them.&nbsp; They could and would do what was necessary.&nbsp; Eying a familiar boy who watched expectantly, waiting for just this chance to help, she said, “You there, bring some blankets from the store.&nbsp; The wool ones on the yard side shelf.&nbsp; Two…. no three.”&nbsp; Nodding encouragingly, she saw the shared concern in those all too knowing eyes before he dashed away.&nbsp; With another rip, she cast about for a second familiar face, “Dotty, go to the kitchen and put on a pot of clean water to boil, yeah?&nbsp; Go on now.&nbsp; We need to be ready for when the doctor arrives.”&nbsp; <br><br>Then, bending back to her own task, tears welled without spilling as she spoke to the pasty faced Albert again.&nbsp; “Hey you, now is time for you to be the big boy we all know you are.&nbsp; We must wrap your hurt arm so it stops bleeding.&nbsp; Now.”<br><br>This was not going to be pretty for anyone.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Niferbelle</strong> on <strong>27-05-2014, 00:23:51</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/3b/Lilah2.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Lilah 'Li-Li' Oliver (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=200832.msg9813377#msg9813377)<br><strong>Faction:</strong> There have been a few rumors but who listens to those<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 21<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> afternoon<br><strong>Location:</strong> outside the Five and Dime<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Reid, open<br><hr>"No, I ain't hurt," she assured him when he asked and let him to take a look to be sure. <em>Not yet anyway</em>. It was hard not to imagine what she'd look like after 'Doggie' was through with her. He drew a bit of a smile out of her despite everything, him having such a nice way about him that she hadn't seen since, well, Jack. Wasn't often a handsome man took a few minutes just to jaw with her and if she wasn't half Chinese, the people they passed wouldn't have given a second thought to a couple of young people taking a walk down the street. She found herself wondering things about Reid that had nothing to do with the problem at hand, like how old he was and whether or not he had a girl but it was a terrible time to go all soft on a man so she gave herself a proper mental scolding and got herself back on track. She continued to walk on toward a more residential area where there weren't so many people bustling in and out of shops before she began to speak again.<br><br><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">Scene continued here (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=167796.msg10035536#msg10035536).</span></em></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Niferbelle</strong> on <strong>31-05-2014, 03:48:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><strong>Name:</strong> Albert &amp; a passel of kids<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Whippersnappers<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 15th<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> afternoon<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jones' Mercantile &amp; Trading Post<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Jaelyn, Ginny, open<br><hr><br>The children all chimed in at once to Jaelyn's question, another cacophony of voices, but she was able to divine it had only been a few minutes, that they had brought him here as quick as they could. They were eager to help their fallen brother and those who were given a task jumped to it quickly and the rest stuck close though they gave her some room like she asked. One girl started to cry, as if this was all too much for her, and was equally comforted by some and berated by others for her tears. Albert's eyes were open but glassy and fixed on her face, looking for a little reassurance as he hung on to consciousness. He reached over with his good arm and grabbed her hand, squeezing it hard enough she could feel he still had a little strength left.<br><br>"It ain't so bad. I feel better already," he murmured, trying to be brave, but she could still see the fear in his ashen face. After a moment his eyes fluttered closed again and he went limp.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>esclavage</strong> on <strong>31-05-2014, 05:58:44</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/0e/Ginny_Avatar.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Virginia <em><strong>'Ginny'</strong></em> Mary Lou Whateley<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Whateley Family<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 15th<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Afternoon<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jones' Mercantile &amp; Trading Post, then at the Entrance<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Jaelyn, Whippersnappers, Johnny, CeCe, OPEN<br><hr> <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Jaelyn readily pulled ahead of Ginny, who kept a much slower stroll towards the Whippersnappers.&nbsp; Whatever the commotion was, it could wait until the blonde Whateley got there.&nbsp; &nbsp;A slight smile was on her lips, tracing the irritated lines radiating off the body language of the shopkeeper with those vivid green eyes.&nbsp; Honestly, getting under Jaelyn's skin had been an amusing way for Ginny to pass the time for an hour or so.&nbsp; She enjoyed finding out what bothered the other woman and how to pluck at those particular things, much like a cat might pick at a ball of yarn until it unraveled into a loose, tangled heap.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Take for example, the streak of pride in Miss Scot-Jones that was a mile wide.&nbsp; Oh, it was definitely there; others might have been fooled by the other woman's humble act - but not Ginny.&nbsp; As was oft quoted by her literature teacher the rare times that Ginny had bothered to pay attention to the overly stuffy, stiff man, <acronym title="You will see it when you fry the eggs."> <em><strong>"Al freír de los huevos lo verá."</strong></em></acronym>&nbsp; It was a quote from the notable story, Don Quixote, though there was also an even more popular phrase that went something like this - <em>'the proof is in the pudding'</em>.&nbsp; And the blonde Whateley had definitely found plenty of proof in the pudding that was Miss Scot-Jones.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Now the only real question left was how Ginny would choose to consume it.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Though those thoughts were shelved once she made it over to discover source of the commotion.&nbsp; No, Ginny wasn't disappointed by what she saw.&nbsp; A low whistle came to the young Whateley's as she surveyed the broken arm.&nbsp; It was a bad break, that much was obvious, even to someone who wasn't all that learned in medicine.&nbsp; Jaelyn had already issued her commands, the various Whippersnappers darting this way and that as Ginny sidestepped out of the way of the bustling lads and ladies.&nbsp; One was off to fetch the doctor, another was getting blankets and yet another was setting a pot to boil some water.&nbsp; The commands surprised her a little as she looked at Jaelyn who was kneeling, her pride truly forgotten, as she brushed the sweaty bangs out of the young boy's head.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; She couldn't be sure, but Ginny would have bet a few golden eagles that Miss Scot-Jones knew a bit about medicine.&nbsp; An intriguing piece of information.&nbsp; Of course, she also understood that this was all busy action, potentially fruitless given how ashen the boy's face was.&nbsp; Honestly, she didn't think he would make it until the doctor was able to assist him.&nbsp; And given how bad the break was, the bonesaw might be needed to preserve his life - potentially giving the lad a fate worse than death.&nbsp; For someone poor like him, being a one-armed cripple was essentially the same as sentencing him to a slow, wasting death a year or two from now.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Still, Ginny knew when her opinion was wanted and when it was not.&nbsp; So instead, the blonde Whateley cast her eyes around to see if anyone was around to help.&nbsp; Thankfully, there was - a young couple in the distance.&nbsp; Ginny immediately recognized the young man, Johnny Jacobson, from the trips he made into town from time to time.&nbsp; Fortunately, she did not pick out the features of the Native American woman with him else she would have scornfully cast her eyes over them.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <strong>"Oy!&nbsp; Oy!"</strong>&nbsp; The blonde Whateley waved at the couple to gain their attention and then signaled them over.&nbsp; <strong>"We cou'd use yer help'ere!"</strong> her voice carried easily and strongly across Southeast Temptation.&nbsp; A quick look was given at Jaelyn.&nbsp; <strong>"Ah figger yew cou'd use uh man like him to help yuh hold yer boy down,"</strong> she explained even as she squatted to get closer.&nbsp; If Jaelyn was planning on dressing the wound, she would need someone like Jacob Johnson holding down the Whippersnapper's shoulders so he didn't writhe from the pain.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"Prob'ally need sumthin' fer him tah bite down on.&nbsp; Yuh got anything?&nbsp; Ah kin go git it."</strong>&nbsp; A frown was given in the Whippersnapper's direction as he went limp and passed out.&nbsp; <strong>"Seems like we'll need sum cold watuh too.&nbsp; Can't be good lettin' him faint like that."</strong>&nbsp; A scathing look was given at one of the boys berating the crying girl.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>"Why dun yuh go and make yerself useful?&nbsp; Git uh pail o'cold watuh and uh towel or rag!"</strong>&nbsp; Those green eyes almost spat fire as she glared at the boy.&nbsp; "Now!!"&nbsp; Her voice cracked like a whip when the Whippersnapper hesitated before he scampered off.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Loves</strong> on <strong>02-06-2014, 04:57:35</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5b/GkkRrdlkcwlI.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Aletta Emelda Maria Sanchez (aka Letty) (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=200832.msg9815927#msg9815927)<br><strong>Faction:</strong> none<br><strong>Date:</strong> Sunday, May 14th, 1877<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning,&nbsp; during Church (she will be late for Church) <br><strong>Location:</strong> Avery’s office&nbsp; -&nbsp; Gomorra<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> &nbsp;Her Sunday Best &nbsp;(http://i975.photobucket.com/albums/ae240/samanthamazur/penelope-cruz-fanfan-la-tulipe_zps69f0d050.jpg)<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Avery&nbsp; <br><hr><br><div style="text-align: justify;">It was funny how two simple words could send a shiver down her spine with such intensity that Letty had visibly shuddered. Her heart inched into her throat, lodging at the back of it, making it near to impossible to breathe easily. Her chest rose and fell with each laboured intake of oxygen, while her feet seemed to root to the floor on which she stood, frozen and unmoving. It wasn’t too late. She could easily escape through the very door she had entered. Yet her feet refused to cooperate. Dark brown eyes focused on the office door where the handsome voice had beckoned, watching for any sign of movement that would foretell Avery’s arrival. <br><br>Slowly the door opened. <br><br>Letty felt faint.<br><br>She took in a deep, and calming breath, urging herself to relax. After all what was the worst that could happen? He might demand she vacate the premises. Perhaps question her morals, possibly insinuate that she was there for something more… tell her she was an idiot for believing letters rather than the flesh and bone of a man! There was nothing he could say or do that she hadn’t thought a time or two. So she had made a mistake! Letty could challenge anyone in town, or out of it for that matter, to show her one person who hadn’t made a mistake! Squaring herself and readying her determination, Letty gave her pride a break and reminded herself that she had done nothing wrong. <br><br>Avery’s friendly smile went a long way in settling her nerves, as did the fact that he remembered her name. Part of her wondered just what and ass she must of made of herself for someone as fancy as he to have remembered her name, she was sure it was a name he would have preferred to forget. Embarrassment flushed against her skin as she nodded and offered what she hoped was a friendly smile. <strong>”Good morning Señor Burnham, gracias por permitirme hablar con usted.”</strong> It was habit whenever she was nervous to revert to her native tongue, and so she had another sin to apologize for once she could get her heart under control. <br><br>As she entered the inner office Letty forced herself to speak English and repeat her previous comments. <strong>”Excuse me please, what I mean to say is that … well I wish to thank you Señor for agreeing to speak with me this morning. I hope I am not disturbing your day."</strong> He could have had appointments for all she knew. Looking around the office quickly it seemed to Letty that he might be a rather busy man who was simply too polite and kind to send her on her way. <br><br><strong>”Corky…. err Ms Henderson was very kind indeed, far more than I deserved. But you are wrong Señor, I owe you more than a simple thank you. I am aware what might have happened to me had you not been so kind…”</strong> Letty’s fingers shook as she removed the letter that had been folded and tucked against her breast. She stroked the paper almost affectionately as she looked down at her hands, and the paper grasped tightly. <strong>”I owe you a favor. Please...I need to repay your kindness”</strong> her dark brown orbs lifted from the paper in her hands to focus upon Avery’s handsome face, looking deep into his dark orbs. <strong>”Please accept my deepest gratitude.”</strong> </div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Strangefate</strong> on <strong>07-06-2014, 05:58:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/f2/Beardycox.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; &nbsp;Avery Burnham<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Law Dogs (1)<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 14th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> Burnham Detective Agency <br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Letty<br><hr> <br>Sunday morning Letty was undeniably different than the one he’d met that night at Babel’s Tower.&nbsp; Avery recalled the image of her muttering darkly at the counter, knocking back whiskey shots like a hardened sailor, only to end up swaying across the bar and yelling ‘doo dah’ along with the piano man at the top of her lungs.&nbsp; That Letty had been…something of a character to put it politely.&nbsp; This Letty on the other hand seemed tongue-tied and reticent, almost ashamed to speak to him at all.&nbsp; From one extreme to another then.&nbsp; He found himself wondering if there might exist a happy medium between the two, one where the pretty young ranch hand didn’t seem to be so out of sorts, and acknowledged that once again he likely wasn’t addressing the actual person.&nbsp; Drunk on whiskey or hobbled with embarrassment, he had yet to see her at her best, or at least at her most natural.&nbsp; <br><br>With her deep brown eyes locked onto his own, Avery asked himself why he was wondering about such a thing at all.&nbsp; Curiosity, he told himself.&nbsp; Ever the curious one, that was him.&nbsp; Was that all?<br><br>“I gather by your outfit you’re on way to church, Ms. Sanchez,” he continued with a polite smile, noting the folded letter in her hands but saying nothing of it.&nbsp; “So you should know that a good deed is it’s own reward.”&nbsp; This had not often been his real life experience, but it sounded nice, he thought, and he wanted to give her every possible out.&nbsp; He had not intended to extract any kind of debt from her over that night.&nbsp; He had truly not expected to see her again at all, despite the way she’d been popping up in his thoughts ever since.&nbsp; “As far as I’m concerned you owe me nothing.&nbsp; I’m pleased enough to know that the effort was appreciated and that you’re feeling well now.”<br><br>He could have let it go at that and walked her politely back to the door.&nbsp; Offered a few kind words in parting, and suggested she stop by again and say hello if she ever felt the need, which they’d both know would likely never happen.&nbsp; Instead, he indicated the chair in front of his desk.&nbsp; Why, he wasn’t sure, only that he perhaps wasn’t quite ready to walk her out of his life just yet.&nbsp; If nothing else she was a welcome distraction from his ludicrous poisoning case.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>“…if you really wish to do me a favor, then perhaps you could tell me what had brought you there in the first place?&nbsp; You seemed quite upset and I don’t take you for the sort of woman who normally frequents such establishments.”&nbsp; Avery placed his hands on the desktop and shrugged, almost apologetically.&nbsp; “It’s of course none of my business.&nbsp; As I said, no one owes anyone anything as far as I’m concerned.&nbsp; Still…I must admit to being curious.&nbsp; You said something about letters if I recall correctly, and I now realize I may have misunderstood your comment with everything else going on.&nbsp; I have some free time presently and I should be happy to listen…although don’t let me hold you up from services, Ms. Sanchez.” <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>auroraChloe</strong> on <strong>07-06-2014, 21:20:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/a16483c2858f862945634d46b9ad41b9/tumblr_mh480oybdg1r64urio1_500.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jaelyn Scot-Jones<br><strong>Faction:</strong> n/a<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 15th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> afternoon<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jones' Mercantile &amp; Trade<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> a passel of kids, Albert, Ginny, Johnny, CeCe, open -<br><hr><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"It ain't so bad. I feel better already."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>Jaelyn had seen less severe injuries shatter lives and not just that of the injured party.&nbsp; Albert was one of the smaller kids but he carried himself large; his spunk and playfulness and dedication to his fellows earned him both the respect and love of the other Whippersnappers.&nbsp; Not that these children would call it that, because they had no words to describe such feeling nor did they often lean toward sentimental.&nbsp; Superstitious and suspicious, but not sentimental.&nbsp; Jaelyn couldn't allow her own thoughts to lean too far toward losing her one and only friend in Gomorra.&nbsp; He was a young but wise soul and had touched hers right off.&nbsp; They were kindred.&nbsp; <br><br>As the tragic moment consumed all her thought and energy, she heard the drawling voice begin to issue orders.&nbsp; All she could spare the Whateley woman was glance.&nbsp; It was one of gratitude, the previous ire having evaporated in the face of the drama being played out on the trading post porch, because the truth was, for all her calm demeanor, Jaelyn was terrified for her young friend.&nbsp; Her knowledge of medicine was a scant familiarity of what to do for women in labor or to feed a cold and starve a fever.&nbsp; Mending broken bones and staving off blood flow was far beyond her skill set.&nbsp; Every move was at best instinct and at worst a wild guess.&nbsp; Even so, she couldn't let Albert sense her fear or uncertainty, nor the other children.&nbsp; <br><br><em>Oh where was that doctor?!</em>&nbsp; That arrival would go along way toward easing her concern.&nbsp; She looked frantically up and down Southeast Temptation, catching sight of a unfamiliar man making his way toward the little scene just as Silas returned with the blankets.&nbsp; "Could it be the doctor so soon?"&nbsp; <br><br>Hope surged as Jaelyn prayed silently for a miracle all while directing Silas to lay out a&nbsp; folded blanket away from the steps.&nbsp; God would certainly understand her need for efficiency.&nbsp; Then gingerly lifting Albert under his shoulders while Silas took the feet, they moved him to lay on the improvised cushioning.&nbsp; "Cover him, too, Silas.&nbsp; The blood loss has made him chill."&nbsp; Silas did so and put the final blanket under his comrades head.&nbsp; He was so pale, his heavy eye lids fluttering.&nbsp; <br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Prob'ally need sumthin' fer him tah bite down on.&nbsp; Yuh got anything?&nbsp; Ah kin go git it."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>Heedless of propriety, Jaelyn had scrambled off the side of the porch.&nbsp; She paused, squeezing her eyes shut in a mental scramble just long enough to picture the layout of the store and blindly answer Ginny with words and blood smudged hands both.&nbsp; "To the right, near the stacked denim pants is a shelf of coiled leather belts."&nbsp; She looked at the other woman finally,&nbsp; "One of them should do."&nbsp; She didn't add, 'please hurry' as the other woman seemed to understand the gravity of the situation well enough.&nbsp; <br><br>With her feet on the ground and Albert laid out on the porch, she had a better vantage point to tend the boy's injured arm.&nbsp; As a pail of water arrived, sloshed half empty in haste to bring it, Jaelyn bit her lip and began to tear the sleeve trying not to cause undo pain.&nbsp; Still she must have, because time was of the essence.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Josietta</strong> on <strong>09-06-2014, 16:25:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/9e/JohnnyJacobson.png)</div> <div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5b/CeCe.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Johnny Jacobson (NPC) &amp; CeCe (NPC)<br><strong>Faction:</strong>N/A<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 15th<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> afternoon<br><strong>Location:</strong> Heading for Jones Mercantile<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open<br><hr><br><br>Johnny had been the first of the two of them to witness the scene. CeCe was looking in a window as they passed before she turned her head toward the sound of another calling out toward Johnny. Naturally she thought it was him she wanted and not her, as she was just a worker on the farm and not worth much notice from most folk. When the Whateley girl waved them over, CeCe looked at him and moved on ahead at a quicker pace. It was apparent someone was hurt and from the state of how others were reacting, it was pretty serious. Now mind you, Miss CeCe was no doctor but she knew how to birth a child and tend to wounds on the farm. Part of her upbringing as a child had her moving back and forth between her tribe and the white folk. She had learned a good many thing about the plants and such of the world that could help soothe burns and aches, and even cure some of the more serious fevers. Some people in town might have called her a witch doctor or some sort of "injun healer" but she was neither really. She was just resourceful and had common sense a few folks in that town, and mostly out of town, lacked.<br><br><em>"Oy!&nbsp; Oy! We cou'd use yer help'ere!</em><br><br>The two of them moved in closer and shifted through the crowd of children to get to the injured boy. CeCe frowned at seeing the injury and looked to the girl who many had told her before was the new owner of Jones Mercantile. She stood off to the side then and looked at his arm then back to Jaelyn waiting to see what the lady was going to do for the kid.&nbsp; Johnny was busy looking at Ginny for a long while as he stood there waiting on orders before he finally cleared his throat, took off his hat, and pushed his hands through his hair. It was a nervous gesture to be sure and a dead giveaway that he had been distracted from the task at hand. Purdy girls usually did that to him and he was surrounded by 'em. Couldn't blame the simple man for staring the way he did. <br><br><strong>"What can I do fer ya missus? Need some help there with that youngin'? I can carry 'im over to a table or bed or some such if'n ya have one."</strong><br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Loves</strong> on <strong>26-06-2014, 21:43:34</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5b/GkkRrdlkcwlI.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Aletta Emelda Maria Sanchez (aka Letty) (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=200832.msg9815927#msg9815927)<br><strong>Faction:</strong> none<br><strong>Date:</strong> Sunday, May 14th, 1877<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning,&nbsp; during Church (she will be late for Church) <br><strong>Location:</strong> Avery’s office&nbsp; -&nbsp; Gomorra<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> &nbsp;Her Sunday Best &nbsp;(http://i975.photobucket.com/albums/ae240/samanthamazur/penelope-cruz-fanfan-la-tulipe_zps69f0d050.jpg)<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Avery&nbsp; <br><hr><br><div style="text-align: justify;">Letty seemed to visibly relax under Avery’s kind words. Not since&nbsp; her father and grandfather did she think she would ever come across a man with such kindness in his eyes. <strong>”Si señor, I am on the way to Church. But I felt that I needed to speak with you more than I needed the Lord’s forgiveness.”</strong> Her smile was sweet, and matched the twinkle in the depths of her dark brown eyes as she replied to his kindness. She was quite well, as he could most likely see for himself, at least physically. Letty wasn’t so sure she would ever be mentally well all the while she hung on to the mystery that had brought her to this town in the first place.<br><br>The corners of her mouth tugged up into a warmer smile as Avery motioned for Letty to sit down. She was ridiculously pleased he wasn’t planning on rushing her out of his office so soon, for reasons she had not been willing to answer. Still, Letty gratefully took the offered seat and smiled up at the handsome man before her. That is until he revealed the details of the favor he wished to cash in on. Her smile dropped, as did her eyes as she stared down at her fingers grasping her skirt in bunches. Forcing her fingers to straighten, she smoothed the fabric and took a deep breath. No matter how embarrassing her shame would be after her the story was shared, Letty knew that she owed Avery the truth. <br><br><strong>”Si… I was...estúpido...idiot, yes?”</strong> another smile crept across her face as she looked up into his inquisitive eyes. <strong>”Young and foolish is what Aggie tells me. There was an notice…”</strong> nibbling at her bottom lip, she paused for a moment to try and think of the correct term used. <strong>”Anuncio...in the paper. I answered it and began writing with Jonah Gates, Aggie’s brother...you might know of him as Joe. People called him Joe.”</strong> Letty paused again, thinking of the man that hadn’t lived to meet her in person. <strong>”We were courting you might say...through the letters.”</strong> A soft blush kissed her skin as she once again looked away out of shame. <strong>”I was young and wanted more than what I had, more than what was waiting for me...what I had seen my madre, hermana y tía settle with. I was… estúpido!”</strong> she continued, her voice growing quiet as she looked towards the window.<br><br>Taking a deep breath Letty turned back to look into Avery’s eyes and offered&nbsp; him another small, but genuine smile. <strong>”I came here to marry him. Only he wasn’t here when I arrived. Aggie met me at the station. She told me...he was killed. Tuve la suerte de que ella me dio un trabajo… she helped me, gave me a job and a place to stay.”</strong> Taking a deep breath she pushed forth with the surprise that she had gotten the morning that Letty had met Avery. <strong>”That morning...before I … before I went to the Inn I learned that the letters that I thought were from the man courting me was not at all from him. A stranger courted me. A stranger learned of my misterios, my secrets. Someone I do not know who.”</strong> The idea of a man, a stranger, knowing her mind, knowing her soul and heart…. it caused her to shiver. But was&nbsp; he really a stranger? She had fallen in love with his letters after all. <strong>”I do not know what to do. I came here because of those letters. I came here because of his promises.”</strong></div> 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Strangefate</strong> on <strong>24-07-2014, 11:15:29</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/f2/Beardycox.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; &nbsp;Avery Burnham<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Law Dogs (1)<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 14th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> Burnham Detective Agency <br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Letty<br><hr> <br>Hands folded atop his desk and sporting the same sort of polite patient smile he might -- theoretically -- offer a nervous client, Avery listened while Letty talked.&nbsp; Well, of course, he listened.&nbsp; It would have been awfully rude to simply resume reading the paper, after all.&nbsp; To his mild surprise, he found himself genuinely interested though, which wasn’t always the case when it came to hearing other people’s problems.&nbsp; Admittedly, at first, it sounded much like he’d already suspected.&nbsp; Letty had made the long trek to Gomorra after answering an ad in the newspaper, only to find her long distance courter dead by the time she arrived.&nbsp; It was not as uncommon a story as one might think.&nbsp; Avery had seen the mail order bride listings in the back of the Sears Roebuck catalogs and heard tales of women traveling hundreds of miles from back east, leaving friends and family, only to find their suitor gone when they arrived, either from natural causes or cold feet.&nbsp; The cathouses would often prey upon them, offering free lodgings to the bewildered new arrival and then…<br><br>Of course that wasn’t quite Letty’s situation but close enough to be familiar to him.&nbsp; It was the second half of her story that peeked his interest, the reason for her distress the other night that had stoked his sudden gallantry.&nbsp; Reclining back in his chair, Avery’s smile widened, finding this all rather a welcome distraction from his current ‘case’ anyways.&nbsp; “I must say this does amuse me, Ms. Sanchez.”&nbsp; It did actually but realizing belatedly just&nbsp; how callous that might sound, he dropped the smile and leaned forward again with a more serious expression.&nbsp; “Not to say I find anything at all amusing about your situation, of course.&nbsp; I can only imagine how distressing it would be to come all the way out to a place such as this one, only to be greeted with such disappointment.&nbsp; And then to discover that you’d been deceived all the while…”&nbsp; He made a ‘tch‘-ing with his tongue, shaking his head sympathetically.&nbsp; “No I don’t think anyone could blame you for being upset, Ms. Sanchez.”<br><br>Which was basically true.&nbsp; Avery found Gomorra depressing enough without having been tricked into coming here.&nbsp; It had at least been his own choice.&nbsp; He had made the decision to try his luck in this violent ugly town and whether his business succeeded or failed, it would be on him.&nbsp; Letty had nothing but broken promises though.&nbsp; He almost wondered why she’d even stayed here.&nbsp; Too embarrassed to return home perhaps?&nbsp; &nbsp;“No, no, I am merely amused at the thought this town has its very own Cyrano.&nbsp; I might suggest you look for a man with a very large nose…”&nbsp; He smiled, before dismissing his own bemused words with a wave of his hand, assuming the reference might be lost.&nbsp; “I take it the sister had no knowledge of who was helping her brother compose these letters?&nbsp; No, obviously not…or she would have told you, I suppose.&nbsp; That makes it rather more curious though, doesn’t it?&nbsp; How is it rancher counts a man of letters a close enough friend that he’s willing to go to such lengths for him.&nbsp; Where does he even <em>find</em> a man of letters hereabouts…”&nbsp; The edge of Avery’s lip quirked up at that, imagining the incongruous image of one of the local ghost rock miners, layered in weeks of accumulated filth, composing poetry to a far off Mexican maiden in between drunken revels at local saloons.&nbsp; Unlikely somehow.<br><br>Turning back to Letty and softening at the expression of sadness in her deep brown eyes -- it was troubling actually how quickly and easily she kept catching his sympathy; he did not normally consider himself such a soft touch, it being a dangerous thing hereabouts, or anywhere really -- and brought his lips together tightly in a look of thought, before nodding.&nbsp; “May I ask how you learned the letters had another author?&nbsp; I have to admit the whole…predicament has captured my interest.&nbsp; I have something of a taste for puzzles and this seems an intriguing one.&nbsp; Are you wanting to find him or ‘let sleeping dogs lie?’ as they say?&nbsp; If the former, it is possible I might be able to help you.&nbsp; This is the very sort of thing I do actually…or hope to do once I become better established in Gomorra.”&nbsp; Once an actual customer showed up, not counting a certain local busybody looking to grind an axe for some poor, and perfectly charming in his opinion, saloon singer.<br><br>“Of course I don’t work for free…but perhaps we could arrange something?&nbsp; I also consider myself a bit of an amateur linguist.&nbsp; I know a touch of French and some Latin from my study of the law.&nbsp; I can speak Chinese quite fluently.”&nbsp; Or one of the dialects at least, but why go into all that, especially when he wasn’t at all certain what he driving at here anyways.&nbsp; It was all acting on a whim essentially, much like their previous meeting.&nbsp; “I’m afraid I know very little Spanish though, which strikes me as a possible hindrance in this part of the country.&nbsp; So perhaps we might barter one for the other and so help each other?”&nbsp; Did he really wish to learn Spanish so badly, he wondered.&nbsp; It did seem a useful skill to have in this part of the country, but was it worth the distraction of taking on a non-paying case?&nbsp; Or was it merely an excuse meet with Ms. Sanchez on a more regular basis?&nbsp; <br><br>He wasn’t entirely sure…and that surprised him as much as anything.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>auroraChloe</strong> on <strong>06-08-2014, 16:52:55</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/a16483c2858f862945634d46b9ad41b9/tumblr_mh480oybdg1r64urio1_500.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jaelyn Scot-Jones<br><strong>Faction:</strong> n/a<br><strong>Date:</strong>&nbsp; May 15th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> afternoon<br><strong>Location:</strong> Jones' Mercantile &amp; Trade<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> a passel of kids, Albert, Ginny, Johnny, CeCe, open -<br><hr><br>Ripping her skirt had not been necessary, as rough towels from the store shelves showed up while a bucket of cold water sloshed nearby.&nbsp; She took a moment to dip the cloth anyway and used it on Albert's face.&nbsp; Wiping away dust to reveal just how very pale he'd become, his breath was fluttery and shallow, his eyes remained closed.&nbsp; <br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=167802.msg10099692#msg10099692">Quote from: Josietta on 09-06-2014, 16:25:59</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><strong>"What can I do fer ya missus? Need some help there with that youngin'? I can carry 'im over to a table or bed or some such if'n ya have one."</strong><br></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>"Are you the doctor?"&nbsp; She had turned enough to take in the sight of the man.&nbsp; He didn't have to say anything, she knew he was not an answered prayer.&nbsp; "There's no time, he's lost too much blood for niceties.&nbsp; Have you tended broken bones before?"&nbsp; All the while she was talking fast, she was revealing the gore of bone and skin broken open.&nbsp; Dirty skin, no doubt; if they managed to set the bone and stem the bleeding, the boy would probably still die of infection.&nbsp; Jaelyn refused to entertain such thoughts.&nbsp; Instead she focused on the task at hand.&nbsp; <br><br>The sight weakened her knees.&nbsp; The back of a trembling and bloody hand moved to silence her sound of anguish.&nbsp; A tortured "Sweet Jesus, please help us," was all she allowed herself.&nbsp; There really was no time for hysterics.&nbsp; The focus was to stop that from happening, stem the flow of blood because Albert deserved better than to have his life end in a puddle in Gomorra dirt.&nbsp; Silas' eyes went wide when for all the emotion behind it, only those closest to her heard, "Where is that damn doctor?!"<br><br>She looked at the fellow who had come upon the scene and offered his help.&nbsp; "He's passed out.&nbsp; That, at least, is a mercy."&nbsp; It was, she knew, because the hard part was coming.&nbsp; "Silas, a towel, please, and rip one into strips.&nbsp; Mister, you're strong.&nbsp; If you pull his arm straight, then i can wrap it.&nbsp; Try to get the bone straight as you can, but the bleeding is more important than the bone, I'd say."&nbsp; <br><br><br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Loves</strong> on <strong>06-08-2014, 17:51:49</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5b/GkkRrdlkcwlI.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Aletta Emelda Maria Sanchez (aka Letty) (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=200832.msg9815927#msg9815927)<br><strong>Faction:</strong> none<br><strong>Date:</strong> Sunday, May 14th, 1877<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning,&nbsp; during Church (she will be late for Church) <br><strong>Location:</strong> Avery’s office&nbsp; -&nbsp; Gomorra<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> &nbsp;Her Sunday Best &nbsp;(http://i975.photobucket.com/albums/ae240/samanthamazur/penelope-cruz-fanfan-la-tulipe_zps69f0d050.jpg)<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Avery&nbsp; <br><hr><br><div style="text-align: justify;">Letty looked up sharply as Avery commented with a wide smile on how her sorrow amused&nbsp; him. Her dark brown eyes welled with trouble as she tried her best to understand how he could find her situation funny. She most certainly did not! Thankfully however, before she was able to open her mouth and place her foot firmly in it, Avery continued on, explaining his thoughts clearly. He dropped the smile, which helped her temper a great deal, and spoke kindly. <strong>”Si! Si! Distressing… like you say!”</strong> agreed Letty, slapping&nbsp; her knee with the palm of&nbsp; her hand, happy to find someone to understand, and agree. Aggie just wanted&nbsp; her to let it go. Let sleeping dogs lie, but damn it all! Someone took the time to write those letters and pull the wool over her eyes and she wanted to spit in his face!<br><br>As Avery continued to explain what he found humorous Letter seemed to fall deeper into confusion. Who was this Cyrano and why would the size of the man’s nose have anything to do with the letters? Her expression clearly showed the confusion muddling her brain. Thankfully Avery seemed to let go of that theory and move on with a question that Letty could infact answer. <strong>”Si, Aggie did not know of the letters at all. Not until she was going through her brother’s things and learned of my coming. That was when she met me at the station.”</strong> Aggie had been shocked to learn of her brothers correspondence with a young stranger. Though she had only been able to read Letty’s replies and not her brother’s letters. Had she, then she would have known from the start that it was not Jonah’s handwriting. As it were, it&nbsp; hadn’t been until the other night that Aggie had seen the letters that Letty kept tied with a red bow. That was when the information of the phantom author had been spilled. <br><br><strong>”She showed me some of Joe’s other letters. The handwriting is.. no good a match”</strong> explained Letty, feeling like a fool once more. Her hopes rose as Avery suggested that he would help her should she wish to find the cad that had lured her to this godforsaken hell hole with flowery promises weighed down with lies. Her hopes took a slight nose dive as the subject of payment arouse. She barely had some money saved up, as most of her income went towards her room and board. Her mind wouldn’t even consider anything sexual as an exchange as Letty just didn’t get the impression that Avery was anything less than a gentleman. He would most likely prefer the company of a much more gentle lady who didn’t get drunk at bars and sing at the top of her lungs. <strong>”Si! Si! I will help you with español! I come to you, no? Here? as you need me to. Si!”</strong> she became very animated with the idea of helping him learn her native tongue in exchange for assistance in finding the cowardly dog that had not bothered to show his face to apologize! After all she had been her over a year and not once had the man come to see her!</div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Strangefate</strong> on <strong>23-08-2014, 23:35:03</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/f2/Beardycox.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; &nbsp;Avery Burnham<br><strong>Faction:</strong> Law Dogs (1)<br><strong>Date:</strong> May 14th, 1876<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning<br><strong>Location:</strong> Burnham Detective Agency <br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Letty<br><hr> <br>Avery had watched as Letty grew more animated, some of the embarrassment temporarily peeling away to reveal the angry and passionate young woman beneath.&nbsp; It brought to mind the figure from the other night, the one cursing under her breath and knocking back free whiskeys like a sailor, and somehow that was a good thing.&nbsp; He found he preferred that Letty over the one who'd entered with downcast eyes and mumbled apologies for wasting his time.&nbsp; It didn't quite suit her it seemed to him.&nbsp; He rather liked the rougher talking freer spirited woman it seemed.&nbsp; That was an unusual preference for him actually.&nbsp; Throughout his life he had styled himself a man of refined tastes and interests with a taste for women of genteel bearings and practiced grace.&nbsp; Not unlike the charming Ms. Whateley actually.&nbsp; And she had proven quite a headache under all the lace, hadn't she?&nbsp; They usually did.&nbsp; <br><br>Perhaps the west was simply rubbing off on him despite himself.&nbsp; Or perhaps he just preferred people to be themselves.&nbsp; He had a feeling Letty was not a wilting flower in most circumstances.&nbsp; And a part of him was rather curious to know just what she would do if he should find this mysterious letter writer of hers.&nbsp; He suspected the man might not enjoy the encounter.&nbsp; He wondered if Letty would either though.&nbsp; Avery considered that he might just be hunting up more disappointment for the young woman, keeping a raw wound open and preventing a broken heart from properly mending.&nbsp; It was her choice to make though.&nbsp; The challenge of it intrigued him too much to set it aside now.&nbsp; <br><br>"Very good then.&nbsp; I believe we have a deal, Ms. Sanchez.&nbsp; I only hope you don't end up feeling I've gotten the better end of it.&nbsp; I may not be able to produce the man, after all."&nbsp; He followed that with his most charming confident smile though, as if to suggest such a result was highly unlikely.&nbsp; Avery lacked no confidence when it came to his ability.&nbsp; If her mystery correspondent was still in Gomorra, he would locate him.&nbsp; There couldn't that many men possessed of a silver tongue and facility with a pen in this wolf's den of fortune hunters and hired killers.&nbsp; Most of the citizenry likely signed their documents with a ‘X’ if at all.&nbsp; "My office here is fine for the lessons if you so like, or I can make the trip out to your ranch.&nbsp; I wouldn't mind speaking with…Aggie, was it?&nbsp; She may know more than she thinks actually.&nbsp; Sometimes it is easy to overlook what seem everyday details, things that might provide a clue to outside eyes."&nbsp; It would also keep Ms. Sanchez safe from any tongues that frequent visits to his office alone might start to wagging.&nbsp; Still trying to preserve her reputation, it seemed, he thought with an inward smile.&nbsp; "I'd also like to see one of these letters he sent.&nbsp; Perhaps something less…personal?&nbsp; A sample of the penmanship may help me find the man easier."&nbsp; And some insight into his mind would not hurt either.&nbsp; Had he been making up verses to charm Joe's would-be fiance or stealing them from poets?&nbsp; The latter would suggest a man of some education, possibly even breeding.&nbsp; <br><br>So a lovely little mystery.&nbsp; Just the thing to pick up his spirits perhaps, after too many nights chasing phantom poisoners and playing the fool for money.&nbsp; <br><br>"Perhaps I might stop in around this time next week?&nbsp; Or during the evening?&nbsp; Although Sunday might be inconvenient for you, now that I think on it.&nbsp; Perhaps you can just send one of those…what do they call them, whipperchaps with a note, if you like.&nbsp; For the moment, I suspect you were on the way to church so I won't keep you any longer…"&nbsp; Avery stood in order to walk her to the door politely.&nbsp; "So good to see you again though, Ms. Sanchez, truly.&nbsp; I do so very much look forward to our working together."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Doomtown Reloaded:  Buyer Beware (IC Thread)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Loves</strong> on <strong>29-08-2014, 18:48:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5b/GkkRrdlkcwlI.jpg)</div> <br><strong>Name:</strong> Aletta Emelda Maria Sanchez (aka Letty) (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=200832.msg9815927#msg9815927)<br><strong>Faction:</strong> none<br><strong>Date:</strong> Sunday, May 14th, 1877<br><strong>Time of Day:</strong> Morning,&nbsp; during Church (she will be late for Church) <br><strong>Location:</strong> Avery’s office&nbsp; -&nbsp; Gomorra<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> &nbsp;Her Sunday Best &nbsp;(http://i975.photobucket.com/albums/ae240/samanthamazur/penelope-cruz-fanfan-la-tulipe_zps69f0d050.jpg)<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Avery&nbsp; <br><hr><br><div style="text-align: justify;">Letty couldn’t fault his reasoning, even if that meant dealing with Aggie. The older woman could be a bitter pill to take at times. She was protective of Aletta, and wanted more than anything for the young Mexican to let things go and just get on with life. But Letty couldn’t move on until she was able to bring closure to what had set her on a path that had crumbled under her feet. <strong>”Si, come for dinner next Sunday. It would be best to speak with Aggie after a few drinks. Come before and I give you the first lesson.”</strong> Things were firing in her mind now. Letty was feeling much like her old self. Ready to take on the world and come out on top! She had a plan of action and a payment for services that seemed reasonable. Letty didn’t like being pitied. She would never allow Avery to do something for her for free… she had her pride. <br><br>Standing, Letty walked with her back straight and a smile upon her lips. She turned towards the handsome detective and offered her handshake to seal the deal. <strong>”I look forward to seeing you again. I truly am grateful for your help. Even if it leaves me with more questions than it does answers, at least I can sleep knowing I did everything that I could.”</strong> And that was the truth! Letty didn’t mind how things turned out in the end, even if all she ended up with was a wild goose chase and hours of teaching Spanish&nbsp; to a man that frankly, seemed much too gentlemanly for the wilds of the west. At least she could look herself in the mirror and say she had done all that she could to uncover the truth. <br><br>Offering Avery a determined smile, Letty let her hand slip from his before leaving the small office and heading back towards the church, much more sure of her steps than she had been at the start of her day. Gone was the hazy layer of regret and embarrassment. The fire in her eyes had returned with force. Aggie would know the second she saw the younger woman that something was up. Whether that something would cause more trouble than it was worth was yet to be discovered</div><br><br><div align="center">~End of Scene for Letty… thank you so much for the fun!~</div>
			</dd>
		</dl>
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