Old world meets new.
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: crosswordaholic on 16-03-2014, 03:10:20</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>16-03-2014, 03:10:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Philadelphia 1863,<br><br>The train station is a bustle with American citizens, hopeful immigrants and Union soldiers dressed in blue straight from southern battlefields, still covered in clay and marked by their solemn haunting eyes. This was the great experiment, the melting pot of this fledgling nation. People of every creed and color passed and mingled amongst the trains. This culmination of cultures was something strange, new and entirely unique. The Union Pacific Railroad was opening the west for exploration and settlement, forever changing the geography of the great american west and its native peoples. Although the railroad was not yet finished, war time steel shortages saw to that, it went as far as Dodge City, Kansas. The boom town of the western cattle barons. The train was a testament to mans drive for exploration. A large black coal engine train, the "Iron Horse" that was tearing through previously Indian occupied territories. <br><br>This particular train heading to Dodge city was made up of several cars of soldiers, closely huddled together on their way to appointment at fort Laramie to fight the local tribes. There were also cars with regular and remarkably comfortable passenger cars, with individual cubbies that seated up to four people opposite one another on red leather cushioned seats. There were even silk curtains on the windows through which to watch the city turn into untamed wilderness. All very civilized.<br><br>In one such coach sat two woman, seated opposite each. One was an ominous creature. Her face and body were that of a fine native woman, dark copper skin, a regal oval face with hallow cheeks and high cheek bones. Her hair was neatly trimmed, her ebony bangs came to a point between her eerie yellow eyes. Eyes thickly outlined in what appears to be black grease but in fact is part of her skin. Atop her head are two pointed white wolf ears sprouting from her dark locks. The rest of her from the neck down is obscured in white and black fur all the way to her bare feet.&nbsp; She is there and yet not there, in the sense the other woman seated opposite is. <br><br>The only figure who is visible in this particular cubby in this particular passenger car was the woman in a striking silk teal gown. The skirt is full and falls in thick, shiny folds over the seats red upholstery. It is the latest Parisian style. A tight fitted bodace, to accent her remarkably small waist and flatter her large bust. The demure neckline buttoned all the way up her throat leaving a large diamond cut out. Showing the glow of her tanned chest and the very tops the amble orbs that were her breasts. Her face is obscured by the veil of her matching teal hat comes just below her chin, a sheer black fabric. Her dark hair is unruly and bundled onto of her head, held by a single small, silver moon hair clip. She is looking out the window at the people walking by, her black leather gloved hands folded neatly in her lap.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>16-03-2014, 08:32:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was a fortunate set of circumstances that this train was actually setting out so late for a particular young man. The sun had sunken down to the horizon, but an hour or so ago, giving him enough time to prepare and join the bustling people crowding around the great iron beast who had been delayed longer than they intended. It was a great blessing for him, why he had gotten the ticket in the first place. Originally it was right at sunset and he had the chance of being left behind and wasting the only bit of money he managed to scrounge up from the 'businesses' he got set for his master. <br><br>Thankfully, he was blending in surprisingly well, though it wasn't sure if it was due to the mas of crowd, or this country had become such a melting pot it didn't matter the nationality anymore, or even certain curious features. The man was dressed surprisingly well in comparison for the rest of the people. He wore a brown coat with a long tail that was cut down the middle for easier movement. It was surprisingly well crafted, though&nbsp; abit dusty, perhaps from lack of formal use. But why he brought it out for a train ride was anyone's guess. A set of iron buttons pressed with the image of a semi-sphereical sun was what held the front together, dulled by the ravages of time, though not rusted at all from some kind of luck. Under the coat was a vest made of,w hat appeared to be, some kind of thin soft leather with a expert cross-stitching along the back and under the arms, despite they being hidden as of yet. There was also a dull grey shirt worn under the vest that made the paleness of his skin stand out more.<br><br>The whole of the man was covered, sans his neck and face. The aforementioned coat, vest and shirt kept his torso entirely hidden, with a pair of long brown slacks covering his legs, the ends shoved into a pair of brown leather boots that seemed to give him a more curious look than if he worn simpler shoes. However, he was expecting more travels, so that boots were a good investment. At least that was what he was convinced by the worker at the clothiers in town when he stayed. He had short cut black hair covered by a black bowler that seemed a stark contrast to the rest of his mostly-brown attire.<br><br>The man had finally gotten to the conductor, showing off his ticket and removing his hat to show off himself in a more non-threatening way. At least, how his mind worked, not quite sure with the full procedures of boarding for this thing. In fact it was kind of exciting and nerve wrecking at the same time. He realized what he was doing, but quite unsure of the consequences of his actions in the distant, or even near, future. But he was let on and started to look about as he was shoveled in as one of the very last people, wondering where he should go and if he should just find a spot.<br><br>The place seemed absolutely full with people, but his eyes came to a rather empty spot with a woman who had plenty of room. Something seemed a bit off, but he eventually made his way over, taking off his hat and putting a hand down to the side, opposite her. A smile crossed his face, which was rather thin, his cheeks a bit sunken in and his eyes slightly darkened to give an eerie look to his pale skin, as if a shadow was hanging under them. His eyes were a dull reddish-brown that had a bit of an uneasy aura to it. With a deep breath taken after he made the initial motion, the man decided to speak with an accent distinctly foreign to anyone around the area and, more specifically, of north-england, perhaps a dialect from Lancashire, "Pardon, think I could take this seat?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>17-03-2014, 22:45:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She looked up when the cubby door opened, letting in the scent of hundreds of breathes from dozens of people all in close vicinity. She visibly recoiled from the smell, closer to the window as if to escape it by moving a few inches. He had a curious way of moving, calculated. There was a clear hesitancy, this was interesting to her, but he seemed intent on sitting with her despite his misgivings. This was commendable in her opinion. Although she would have preferred in this particular instance to be alone with her thoughts. Or rather as alone as she could ever be, with the woman still seated opposite her. He motioned to the seat but to her it appeared he was indicating he wanted the other woman's seat. The woman looked over at him, her ears cocking back defensively like a dog cornered. The fur cloak she wore seamed to stand on end like an extension of her body, her senses heightened. <br><br>When he asked to sit the woman quickly responded, like a low snarl. Her teeth are straight and white, but distinctly animalistic and predatory. Small but sharp, pointed and her k nines are curved half moons with some killing power.<br><br>"No."<br><br>The woman in teal clearly disregards her impolite suggestion, glad he could not here the unforeseen contempt her companion spewed at him. Though not lifting her veil, she smiled politely. Motioning with her lithe gloved hand to the apolstered seat opposite her.<br><br>"Please, go right ahead."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>18-03-2014, 06:58:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The thin gentleman would give a slight bow of his head and let out a "Thank you, miss." to the only one he could hear. The image of the other woman was just unseen to him, incorporeal and unknown, especially since he wasn't particularly looking to the figure seated in the spot he indicated. With no hesitation, since he was permitted to sit, he scooted within the cubby and turned to close the door. His body shifted awkwardly, rather unfamiliar with the tightness of the traincar's passenger section, though he did end up seated across from the well-dressed woman and beside the unknown creature in the same section. He kept away from the window, however, staring forwards in silence for the time he sat.<br><br>While the train had been loaded further, and finally wa prepared, the sound of bells and people and gears started ringing out. It was all rather hectic for him, however it was necessary for them to start pulling from the station and heading west, where he wanted. Once the train jolted a bit, signaling it was to move, the man cleared his throat. This whole time he was looking over the woman, a bit curious of why she was veiled, hiding her face. Was she scared? Mourning? Excessively beautiful and wishing to not be bothered? It was an interesting, curious mystery to him.<br><br>"I... Well... If I may ask, why are you heading through this train?" He trying to sound a bit more confident than he was, and seeming to fail a bit. Especially with how his body language was, his hat in his lap with legs pressed firmly together and fingers running along the rim of the bowler in some curious concern. His curiously-colored eyes kept on her, trying to stare to where he supposed her eyes were. To be polite more than anything. While he waited to see if she wished for some kind of conversation he grew silent, wiggling his toes a bit in a fidgeting nervousness as the train had seemed to pull from the station and slowly built up its intended speed.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>20-03-2014, 02:05:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br>She watched him sit, something about him was just…Off.&nbsp; He seemed uneasy in her company, and given her posh and ordinary appearance. It must just be his nature. He was not so awkward as to not take a keen and obvious notice of her veil. In truth she wore it because while money could buy her the refinement of a teal silk dress, it could not buy her a new skin color. She was native american, her skin a coppery hugh and her cheek bones pronounced. She would not have been allowed upon this train were she not wearing the veil, under the guise of mourning or modesty. He was polite enough not to ask ad least.&nbsp; Her companion it seems had chosen to convalese in the ether and had disappeared from the seat beside him. It wasn't as if she could carry on a conversation with her with a third party present.<br><br>She looked up from the window at him in earnest only when he began to speak. She was under the impression with her limited experience in western society, it was polite to simply ignore strangers after you have acknowledge them with pleasantries. But his attempt at conversation was a welcome reprieve from the choke hold of etiquette. Even if he seemed to be so physically uneasy, fidgeting as he was. She turned so her whole body was facing him, her gloved hands laid demurely in her lap. Folded over her small silver, drawstring change purse. The tight and rigid corset she wore forced her sit erect, with shoulders squared back to compensate for the size of her bosom.<br><br>"I'm heading home. I was planning on getting off at the final stop in Dodge city. Visit some family maybe. And you?"<br><br>She looked squarely at his bowler hat in his hands, instead of his somehow inhuman eyes and strange complexioned face. Her voice was even, but carried the barest hint of foreign accent. Her original language is heavy with vowels and spoken at a lower octave. So her compensation is evident.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>24-03-2014, 08:01:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				In an attempt to seem more at ease, the man mimicked the woman's placement. Though, instead of his hands upon folded at a coinpurse, his own hands were folded upon one-another at the top of his black bowler. The whole of his attention was to where her face would be hidden behind the veil, trying to stare past it, though he could not really penetrate far enough to even determine any features of the woman. Was she old? Young? Pretty? Homely? He hated to ask, and didn't, but the curiousity of such was gripping. Perhaps she was a wanted woman? Or a man attempting to hide himself in the garments of a fine woman? But as his eyes lowered to look at the form, the way she was shaped, it felt less likely on that front.<br><br>She spoke, though! His attention immediately snapping back to her face and managed to speak her reasonings for taking this coal-powered behemoth. "Dodge, you say?" He asked, giving a slow nod before saying, "Was where I was expecting. I was heading west and expecting to go as far as this would take me on the coin I could. Nothing left for me in New England." He paused, realizing that may sound a bit odd, his brow furrowing in thought if he made a mistake saying that. Perhaps she would think him nothing more than a vagrant, or some immigrant she could use as fodder for blackmail. But he decided to not bother with it for now.<br><br>Something was off, though, the way she spoke was different than the usual yank. He debated for a small bit before deciding he would speak up about it, "Excuse me. Notice a bit of an accent different from the Americans around here. What is that dialect?" He figuring if she really didn't want to ell him she wouldn't.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>24-03-2014, 19:57:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She knew her veil was an appealing mystery especially given the limited amount of distractions other than maybe the scenery, passing by the train window.&nbsp; It was obvious his eyes were seeking some way to peer through her impervious veil. She almost felt bad for him it was obvious he was trying to figure out what she was hiding. Given his hand placement and general impression of his demeanor, he was already a some what socially awkward guy. The veil was almost like a cruel joke, but she was resolute not to take it off. She couldn't afford to be outed by him and unceremoniously left by the side of the tracks. Or worse. Indians were not a welcome presence anywhere in this so called modern society. And given the rate at which this iron beast was traversing the west, soon there would be no place for anyone of her 'kind'. Unseen to him her brows narrowed at his story of apparent escape.<br><br>"New England a little too much like 'old' England for you?"<br><br>She noticed his accent as well. She knew that the British distinguished their accents based on their general region of origin. They were allot like native tribes in that sense, territorial and unique in their language. Her english was good, if not great. But no one was perfect and could completely cover up their native tongue. She thought on this, lying usually comes back to bite you especially if they're to spend a significant amount of time together.&nbsp; So she told him a half truth.<br><br>"Americans around here? Well I can't speak for anyone else but thats just a southern twang, allot of refugees from the war between the states up here from the south. If you mean mine its just old american, older than James town in its roots"<br><br>See now that was true. She was american, as american as it comes and her language was a good deal older than the first european speakers who set foot on this continent.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>25-03-2014, 06:02:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The way the woman spoke was like a joke. Perhaps that was intended. Either way it caused him to give a light chuckle, and smirk, letting his pale lips to curl to reveal his slightly longer teeth. "Ah, well, you could say that," He admitted, turning his attention off to the window, letting his smirk die down from a jovial one to one that might have come from the realization of some kind of irony. While he watched the terrain pass by in the darkness of the night he would take a deep breath, taking in her explanation and processing it.<br><br>"That may be it..." He admitted, not wishing to push the issue further. He was familiar with the dialects of the states, or at least he thought he was, though hers was a bit off. Had more emphasis on some of the vowels and a bit deeper than what he was used to. He shrugged it off, though and then looked over to the woman, "I admit, I was considering hopping off around Illinois. Seemed far enough away without risking getting between the in-fighting... But the farther west the more lost you can get a bit of a bonus, I admit..." <br><br>The man fell silent, lowering his attention to his hat, he shifting his hands to turn it at the rim. His eyes shifted in such a way that made it seemed as if they were being shaken within his head. After a moment of contemplation he blinked, realizing how rude he had been this whole time. He quickly snapped his eyes up and leaned forwards, "And forgive me, Miss! I have been utterly barbaric! I am Reginald Wilmont."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>25-03-2014, 22:32:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He found her funny, she had to admit it was flattering that she had made this strange guy laugh. But his smile, her eyes fell on his teeth and she was gratefull for the veil because she stared a little too long. As much as she tried to observe all the subtlties of conversing in modern society, she was far from perfect. And her thinly veiled response was clearly not cutting it. Of coarse her accent sounded off to him and it clearly didn't have its origins in english. He was brittish, of coarse he was going to notice, english was his language. She was grateful for the change in subject and lisened sympatheticly to his plans of escape into the 'wild west'. It was not a unique notion to seek a new beginning out in the unknown territories. But too ofton immigrants find the realities too harsh and inhospitable. <br><br>"Illinoise would have been easier, plenty of towns and people. Dodge is new and wild, there are few semblances of society there yet."<br><br>From the looks of him, he was not prepared for the harsh realities that await him in Dodge. He would probably be jumped just because of that silly bowler hat in his hands. She shook her head a little, bringing her hand up to adjust her hat and veil. The silver moon pin was pulling her hair tight and pinching into her skin. She really wanted to take it off but she had to forbid herself. He was right, she leaned forward in her seat and extended her gloved hand.<br><br>"Nice to meet you, I'm ..."<br><br>Crap. She couldn't exactly give him her real name, she thought hard for a moment. Keeping her hand extended.<br><br>"Mary."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>26-03-2014, 06:43:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When the woman brought her hand forward in a formal gesture, Reginald would bring his own up. His right hand took a hold of hers with the fore and middle fingers taking the woman's at the second joint with the thumb gently placed along the top. He would lean down, giving the woman's gloved hand a formal peck that seemed to be more for show and respect than to convey anything, as she would not be able to even feel the brush of his lips through the fabric of her glove.<br><br>"Charmed, Mary." The pale man said, pulling his head up and giving her a smile. With the motion and comment done, he would lean back in his seat. His hand returned to his hat, which he decided to lift a bit in the air, just under the area of his sternum, using his fingers to roll the material oddly as his eyes turned back to the window. His thoughts started to wander, wondering how much he would confide in this woman that he might not ever meet again. Once the train made its final stop and the two of them departed, they would both be blended in the crowds. A smirk did come at the thought. A veiled woman and a pale man as him blending to a crowd didn't seem as likely as he had just considered. It was actually pretty ludicrous. And he chuckled because of the realization.<br><br>"Well, Miss Mary. I do hope your family is well. I do not have the luck of that, I admit. I will be, basically, traveling blind. Maybe I will keep going past the native's country and cross on to California. They might need more people there, since they are still part of the Union, if I remember correctly. Even if pushed apart by savage lands."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>26-03-2014, 22:08:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She fidgeted a little on her red apolstered seat, when he belt down and kissed her hand. She knew it was formality and meant nothing really, but it felt just awkward to her. Pulling her hand back she refolded them in her lap. 'Mary', it just sounded weird. It was the namesake she had been baptized under at the San Pedro mission. She hadn't really used it since she ran away when she was 12. But her real name would garner way too much attention and prompt too many questions on his end. Instead of returning to her window watching, from under her veil she watched him toy with his bowler. Must be new? It was the latest fashion like her silk teal dress. His laughter struck her as odd and kind of brazen, people don't laugh for no reason. <br><br>"Savage... lands..."<br><br>She let the words roll off her tongue slowly. She was glad she had not wavered in her visage, and not taken off the veil. He seemed to have the popular opinion of the day regarding the natives and the west. She wondered further if it would be polite to probe him on the subject, safe behind her veil. <br><br>"What is your opinion regarding this countries native inhabitants. Surely your concerned about them, given your current trajectory."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>27-03-2014, 07:11:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The man blinked, noticing the way that Mary had let the words return to him in a slow speech, as if she disapproved. He lifted his hands, rather defensively, and gave a small, nervous smile, "Ah, No offense meant if you happen to have friends of the natives, of course, miss." The way Reginald spoke was an attempt to seem sympathetic, but it came off more pathetic than anything. When he asked of his opinion he only blinked and then cleared his throat, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself from the concern that he may have caused the woman to be even more wary of him.<br><br>"Well, I cannot really say. I am just able to determine based on stories of others, but never encountered any of these 'red skins', yet. I mean, I have visited an african settlement that was established as a colony for a brief time and suppose it could be similar. The people were not really savage, just different. Had a thing for yams, though, which, I admit, I can leave behind." With the thought of what he saw for the various dishes of the african people he only chuckled before shaking his head and turning the attention back to Mary, "So, I will reserve my judgement until I come in proper contact. Hopefully I will not be considered a soldier of the americans if they feel they are war-worthy."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>28-03-2014, 01:09:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Clearly he was a man driven by politeness and very non confrontational, as he did immediately apologize. He was gonna last all of a week with that bowler hat and that attitude in Dodge. She smirked a little under her veil, it was wrong to take amusement at one so earnest and non offensive. But she was use to a more rough and abrasive types of company, having lived almost exclusively in what he would consider savage lands. He seemed to gather up his bundle of nerves before he spoke. 'Smart', she thought.<br><br>She couldn't say she believed him entirely, but he seemed to be unaccustomed to the term 'red skins'. That ad least, in and of itself, was something commendable from her end. It was almost too ironic that he was in fact speaking to one right now, she wondered how he would react were she to share her little deception with him. But she had no intention of doing so. Mary listened closely to him speak about his time in Africa, she was captivated by the idea he had actually been to the dark continent. She knew former slaves but all of whom were several generations removed from Africa. Suddenly she started to laugh. Was he serious? She brought up her silk clad arm to cover her face, turning away shyly until her laughter could be managed.<br><br>"I'm so sorry...But I don't think you need to worry yourself on being mistaken for a soldier, really."<br><br>Intimidating he was not.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>29-03-2014, 10:51:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The man nodded, slowly before taking a deep breath. For some odd reason, he felt as if he was being a little bit more dug deeply with each word he let out. At least it seemed that way before she started laughing. He blinked, a bit surprised, his hands coming down and squeezing at his hat. This was starting to make him rather nervous. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and lowering his head, "I... Uhm... Well, I am glad you think I wouldn't be caught in trouble with those people..."<br><br>A small chuckle came from him as he turned his attention back to the window, he clearing his throat. "Uhm, well, anyways... What about you? Are you not really fearful of the situation?" The man shook his head lowering it as he settled the hat back to his lap. He fell silent before closing his eyes, "I mean, you seem like a rather nice lady, if I am allowed to say so..." There was a nother pause, he closing his eyes again, tapping his foot.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>30-03-2014, 00:38:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She supposed she was glad that he hadn't been offended. Honestly she hadn't really given her comment a whole lot of thought before she said it. Blatantly laughing at his expense. He really was a brave fellow, going so far from home into such dangerous territory. She should have imparted some wisdom to him or urged him to turn back. Told him that in fact there were things that he thought only dwelled in his nightmares, out in the great american west. That it was a purgatory close to hell on earth. But he was already on the train, pushing forward towards Dodge city. It was much to late for that. Now it would only serve to soften whatever reserves of determination and courage he had culminating inside himself.<br><br>"I'm from the west, the east was my great untraversed wilderness. So I guess I am on the back end of a journey like yours. And I'm not. Nice or a 'lady'. So really just Mary will do."<br><br>The last bit was spoken solemnly, almost like a sigh. Turning, she tried to focus on the passing scenery. Perhaps she had been too harsh with him, but the term lady just seemed to bother her. Like a small prick along her spine, every time someone referred to her by this harmless, polite term.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>30-03-2014, 07:53:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Reginald cleared his throat at the woman's proclamation that she was not nice nor a lady. Her name would do, was what she said, and he could only nod to her, in a slow fashion, with a slightly opened mouth, "Well, I meant no disrespect. I claimed you nice due to the fact you had not told me to just leave like some peasantfolk or some such. And lady, well... May not have the refinement of some of the 'ladies' I have said, but I was just trying to be polite..." The last of his sentences were set to trail off, his voice turning to a murmur and his gaze tilting down and to the side as if he had realized that the whole of it was really rather bad to say if he was attempting pleasantries. <br><br>A hand came up to scratch at his neck, more exposed, due to the position of his gaze, allowing the woman the sight of some queer scarring upon the pale skin. A contrast that made it difficult to not take notice. "Well... Family west, hmm. I didn't figure there was many claimed provinces that long. I am not inquiring about your age, but I figure you are a proper woman. Else a rather matured youth." He gave a nervous chuckle, turning his attention back to her, placing his hands up, letting all the tips of his fingers nervously touching their opposites.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>30-03-2014, 22:28:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She immediately felt bad for her response to him. It was guarded and unkind, she was putting him off enough with just her persistence in wearing a veil. No need to make him wary of speaking his mind with her too. She smiled a little at him, thought the veil would mostly obscure her small gesture.&nbsp; He seemed like he wasn't easily deterred and she was glad he continued to speak to her, instead of perhaps holding a silent grudge. Her eyes fell on the light discoloration of his scars. She wondered if perhaps she had judged him to easily, making light of his notion of being mistaken for a soldier. Those were not scars that one came by in a civilized manner. She was so focused on her unhindered examination of them that she almost missed his rather clumsy talk about her age.<br><br>"Truth is I don't know how old I am. But my guess is early 20's or there about. As for my family, the only one I have left lives in what you would consider hostile territory. No claimed province."<br><br>She answered truthfully and unashamed, something about the scars made him somehow less foreign and strange to her. There was something he was holding back, maybe not as obvious as wearing a veil, but he had a wall up. She chewed on the inside of her lip, she wanted to ask about them. It would be incredibly rude to do so but it would just continue to bother her if she didn't.<br><br>"I'm sorry in advance, but your scars are unusual. How did you come by them?"<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>31-03-2014, 08:22:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The man stared to the woman with his fingertips pressing together to a steeple, before lowering his head. "Well, my apologies for bringing it up, then. I mean... No disrespect..." He lowly muttering, feeling himself even more a fool than he had a minute ago. Perhaps he was just petering on the topics. Losing some steam, so to speak, and winding down to, eventually, have the two sit there in awkward silence. It wouldn't be the first time that such had happened, though, at least, she talked to him, even if he was bumbling in his words. Though, something did come to mind for him. She mentioned family were in the hostile territory. Not claimed province. Was she one of the natives about? If so, she hardly dressed or acted like one the people spoke of. Savages, uncivilized.<br><br>Then she said something he didn't expect. She spoke of his scars. Which did she see? He had no gloves on, true, but did she notice the ones at his wrists? Or the neck... Instinctively, the man put a hand to his neck, looking to the side and covering the area with his hand, only to reveal the marks along his wrist, as well, as if someone had cut the joint with a blade, but not even a clean cut, most of the scarring on the back of his wrist than where the veins were. In a clear of his throat, he pondered what to say. Admittedly, the woman was rather upfront with his questions, so he ended up sighing out. <br><br>"Well..." He started, lowering his hand from his neck, "I had quite a bit of unfriendly persons I dealt with. Boss was hardly a kind one." He spoke, deciding 'boss' was the more apt one for the least suspicion, and a more localized term as well, "And I had to get in a few scraps through my life..." He chuckled low, turning his attention back to her. "Ah, I know. Never think a man like me would be a scrapper..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>31-03-2014, 22:14:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She watched the panic that ensued her comment, the way his hand came up to conceal the scars on his throat. That was a peculiar reaction to what was a rude, but not unseemly question. She noticed the scar on his wrist just below above the cuff of his tailored soon. She was familiar with the impressions of various knives on human flesh, made by skilled and unskilled hands. This was a crude hacking, whoever had inflicted it on him had allot of rage and during a struggle. She mused, noting that the assailant had clearly missed most of veins and the major artery. He was a lucky man. <br><br>"I take it whatever work you were involved in will be put aside when your reach your destination. Perhaps in favor of something a little more..Um…Pacified?"<br><br>That was the best she could put it though on close scrutiny of his scars, thanks to him lowering his hand, the two didn't seemed to be related. If he were ,as he put it, 'a scrapper'. Then he would have no want for work where they were headed and perhaps would fair better than she had originally thought. But all the same, given his clothing, she thought he would do better in a more civilized profession. Her veil was really annoying, the fabric was corse and the hat pin pulled her black hair tight. Making her face feel tight and ache. She wished for just a few moments of solitude to be relieved, even temporarily, from the blasted visage. She brought her hand up to rub her throbbing temple.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>01-04-2014, 07:10:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A light sign came from between his lips as he nodded a response to the woman. "Yes... I mean, I know it can be more dangerous, but at least here, I will be able to fight back with things more... And... I am not sure. I probably could be a bit more... Ugh, I don't know..." The man muttered the last part as Reginald stared down at his hat. He closed his eyes, trying to consider what job he would be good for, after all, he had limited skills and his unique... affliction was something that benefited him in very limited ways.<br><br>After a moment he leaned back, turning his attention before saying, "I am not sure how pacified I could be, I admit. Perhaps I could get some kind of apprenticeship. Heh, maybe a lawman, that would be ludicrous, wouldn't it?" He looked to the woman, expecting another bit of laughter with the image of him with a wide-brimmed hat and a star on his coat. But he just sighed, "Do you have any contacts I might be able to work with, Mary? I mean, I know I am still a stranger, but I do try to remain hopeful.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>01-04-2014, 19:32:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br>"You know what the different between and bullseye and a badge is? The badge comes with a fancier funeral."<br><br>She said resolutely. It may have sounded like a joke but it was anything but. Lawmen did not last long and the ones who did were lawmen only in name, not in practice. Often worse and more prolifically violent than the criminals they are suppose to keep in line. She tried to ponder some way she could help him, but very much doubted that he would mingle with people like her. It wouldn't be fair to throw him to one of her acquaintances so they could break him.&nbsp; The creature from before, the strange wolf like cloaked woman manifested herself in the seat beside her.<br><br>'Why are still talking to this guy, did you notice the scars yet?'<br><br>Awkwardly Mary scooted a little to the side, as if to make room on the seat for the ethereal creature. She nodded her head down, a silent yes,&nbsp; careful not to alert him to the presence of a third in the passenger car. The creature eyes him, her gaze is predatory and piercing. As if she were searching for his soul and had come up solemnly empty. Clearly Mary is uncomfortable with the added presence and shows it by awkwardly fidgeting the teal ruffles of her skirt. Hoping it will lose interest. Though it looks like it is engrossed with Reginald.<br><br>'Theres something wrong with him…'
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>02-04-2014, 12:01:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Well, then that's a plus." Reginald said, lifting his right hand up, with index finger pointing upwards in an attempt to aid in lightening the mood, as she spoke way too seriously for that punchline. But instead, he just sighed and turned his attention back to the window, wholly ignorant of the spectre that had appeared next to the woman. Even missing the idea that she had shifted to compensate space for the intangible figure. Silence, at least from his observations, would reign supreme now. At least for a full minute before he turned his attention back to Mary.<br><br>"This trip will not take until sunrise, will it? I am more of a night person, and rather not have to end up sleeping in some cubby during the wait..." The englishman had furrowed his brow, wringing at the brim of his hand in slight concern. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>03-04-2014, 22:04:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You sleep during the day?"<br><br>Her response was almost instant and clearly biased. That was such an uncouth lifestyle. One associated heavily with people involved in the skin trade or gambling. All professions associated with organized crime syndicates. He didn't look like a pimp, gambler or a thug. Despite being a self confessed scrapper. He looked like a guy badly in need of a new start. The creature beside her, remarked through tight lips.<br><br>'Wow. That's not weird at all'<br><br>"Yeah it will. I think we don't stop until Chicago, Illinois. That where all those Union soldiers are getting off. Along with several train cars of ammunition and food stuffs. General Ulysses S. Grant is trying to cut the supply lines to the south by controlling the Tennesse and Mississippi rivers, both conveniently run through Illinois."<br><br>She spoke freely and without restraint regarding the war. It was on everyones mind even if it were considered morbid, to speak of it in polite company. And inappropriate for a woman to speak of military tactics.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>06-04-2014, 08:27:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"It's a preference, yes..." Reginald said immediately, trying to cover himself, "I have worked for a decade in the evening hours, per my boss. I was an... auditor of sorts, really. And could get inventory and work done better at night without interruptions..." He explained, as it was mostly true, and covered what the real reasons for his preference was.<br><br>She didn't seem to immediately press more into it, so he just sighed, putting his hat up and settling it upon his black-haired head. His arms crossed and he leaned back as she spoke, he nodding slowly before speaking his response, "Well, that will be quite a while, I suppose. This country is practically as big of all of Europe if you include the West Coast." With that comment, he turned to look back out the window taking a deep breath, "I am still having an issue with the idea of this secession, what is the purpose of it. Some claim it as States rights issues."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>06-04-2014, 23:15:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Some people say its over the inalienable right of all men to be free. But I think both those reasons pale in comparison to the scope of this war already, and its only just begun. Most of the south doesn't even own slaves, its the top 10 percent fighting the top 10 percent of the north and their getting the poor and the immigrants to fight it for them."<br><br>She replied curtly, no love for these mass scale wars that europeans seemed so fond of. In the way she grew up, wars were fought on a seasonal basis in small numbers between tribes. Mostly just to give the young men something to do and a way to garner bragging rights and honor. Not because of some dark political agenda and casualties were always low. Or ad least they had been, she mused bitterly to herself. Before the introduction of guns in her grandfathers time.<br><br>"America is a relatively new country to you- I mean, Europeans in general. You come from such an old civilization I'm sure back in the early days of England there was a similar war to this one between the native Saxons and the Roman conquerers.&nbsp; History is kind of a loop wouldn't you say?"<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>07-04-2014, 03:14:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Hmm, that is much like any war, then. The nobility dislikes someone and sends much of the poorer men to fight, long as it doesn't destroy their chances at wealth. Of course there's also honor and such in it so you see some royalty and nobility work as soldiers, too." The man explained, shrugging his shoulders as he noted some things about the history. There was a slight pause before he just sighed, "All well, suppose we can get a greater perspective when we see more soldiers... Then again, the views are skewed at times."<br><br>Reginald hummed, looking back to Mary before giving a smile, "And it is. Those who do not learn from it are forever stuck in it. But like a river it constantly flows, irregardless of the rocks in the way. Even even over time a dam might break and let it continue on."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>07-04-2014, 05:05:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br>She thought he had put it aptly, that indeed history wasn't just a recollection of the past and that it was far from unchangeable. With that she was contented they had pushed the bounds of conversation as far as either was up to. So she contented herself to watching the scenery pass, she wasn't sure how long it took for her to lapse into a deep sleep on the overly plush seat but she awoke with a start.<br><br>She shot upright, her heart quickening as he breast strained against the&nbsp; encumbersome and unfamiliar corset and gown. The veil obscured her view some but she eventually recognized the inside of the train car and where she was. Her companion both ethereal and real were gone. For the first time since she boarded she was totally alone. And it felt marvelous. Her breathing slowed and her flight or fight instinct settled down, slowly she reached up to tuck some stray wisps back under her stylish but impractical hat. She exhales apathetically and gave the silver moon pin a tug, boldly opting for some time free of it. Like pulling a thread her guise unraveled, her dark ebony locks falls down her back in a sheet of black and she removed the hat and veil.<br><br>'What do you think your doing?'<br><br>She looked up and tucked some bold, wild locks of black hair behind her ear. Her companion was back, seated in Reginald's seat and filling the air with her smug, provincial sense of superiority.<br><br>"He's gone, I'll hear him coming. I can't breath, I've been wearing it for hours and by scalp is killing me."<br><br>She raked her fingers through her hair, her roughly fringed bangs fell in her face without the regiment of the silly hat. Her face is oval shaped, her skin a warm copper color with gold undertones across her high cheek bones. No doubt from time spent in the blistering sun. Her eyes are intense, deep set in her skull and a curious inhuman gold that is rimmed in dark, curled lashes like a doe's. Though she rationalized the supposed supernatural tone and color as simple very light brown and trick lighting. But their luminous quality is very much their own. Her lips are plump and her cupids bow exaggerated, speaking to her heritage.&nbsp; While it is clear she is not european there is a classic greco roman quality to her face, sculpted but demure.<br><br>'There's something off about that man. I don't know what but…"<br><br>Her unreal companion began, peering at the door as Marry twiddled with her hat in her fingers.<br><br>"Oh stop it. Your just anxious because we've become out of practice."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>07-04-2014, 06:13:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Admittedly, Reginald was getting a bit claustrophobic. The tightness of the train was a bit unfamiliar to him, despite actually enjoying Mary's company. However, when she fell asleep he wanted to get up and about, not to mention he was getting thirsty. One thing about him, though, he learned to control himself better than others that he knew of, but he was aware of the careful balance of his curse. If you do not feed for a longer time, you become more vulerable, more decrepit and the sun becomes less an irritating nuisance to a real threat, and he feared the rays that poked through the few windows that were there. <br><br>He was feeling more tired, yet wasn't sure if he could just sleep and let his guard down. Despite his appearance, his meekness, his passivity, he was a monster. And when his boss had realized he was nowhere to be seen he might seek him out. That terrified him. <br><br>With his hat, firmly, on his head, he managed to wander the train, realizing there was a small car that offered some food and drink. It was a surprise, something fairly new and different from the usual water stops other trains did, but a welcome difference, even if it was just some dried meat and coffee. He did decide to show more good will to the woman by taking her a cup of coffee and piece of meat, in any case. After all, if he was polite, perhaps she would help him. She had somewhere to go where he didn't, so perhaps she could help him get in good with her family, work peacefully on a farm or some kind, then again that meant working in the light and that wouldn't work well. The whole way back to the car he was considering that.<br><br>Reginald stopped, though, hearing Mary's voice from behind the door, a bit curious. He considered coming back another time, but shook his head,thinking it shouldn't be bad. So he just moved to come in and then speak out, "I brought some food and drink for you." He commented, pausing as he stood in the doorway, realizing the woman there had taking off her hat and veil and even unpinned her hair to show off the skin of a native. He was rather surprised, staring at her with mild concern, "Well..." He started, leaning down to try and set the cup and meat.<br><br>Something unexpected came, though as he placed the jerky down, as the blinders of the window didn't seem fully in place, as a ray of light peered through and even went right to where he was placing down the food. A hissing came, as if the man's skin had been pressed with hot metal, he shouting out and pulling his arm back from the light turn his body around and holding at his wrist, which had been exposed to the light, then though a light searing had happened to his hand as he pulled back, as well... With that he looked to his hand and muttered, "Okay... I have gone too long without that..." Hoping the woman wasn't going to try and murder him for seeing her without her disguise... Then again, it could be an excuse for a meal...<br><br>His head shook away that thought, as he wanted to get away from that line of thinking, but still he quickly closed the door to try and keep from anyone else peering in on them.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>07-04-2014, 23:51:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				No sooner had she accused her ethereal companion of paranoia then her lax in vigilance rewarded her with discovery, in the form of Reginald bursting in on her without her veil. Seeing her for what she was, Mary stumbled over her words trying to come up with some sort of explanation. Tell him she wasn't dangerous, she didn't want to scalp him or eat his flesh. She just wanted to go home. But before her lips could form the words he moved to set his food down and he light from between the strewn curtains pooled over his hand. Burning him? Her eyes widened. The woman seated opposite her snarled, feral and animal like. <br><br>'I told you. Kill it.'<br><br>Mary snaps back at her in her state of disbelief, and panic, forgetting he can't see her. <br><br>"Shut up! Go away!"<br><br>The creature disperses, dissipating in to the air. A flood of adrenaline is pumping through Mary's veins her face is flushed, now exposed and her eyes wide and expressive, turned towards him. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, testing the bounds of her corset and the fine silk material of her bodice. Her hand still clutches the the moon pin, though it is turned the thin blade facing down in her closed fist. <br><br>"Look...I don't know what 'that' was...But I think given our circumstances we should within reason be able to come to some kind of understanding, reguarding certain things no one else on this train needs to know about...?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>08-04-2014, 00:44:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The man had lowered his hand, turning his attention to the woman with wide eyes and said, "I-I'm sorry! I just..." He quickly moved his hand up to the curtain at the window and then pulling to shade as closed as he would to block as much light as possible. He took a few deep breaths flexing his fingers which were burning as he had to curl around the blind and got more of the light upon him to start steaming. Reginald would shake his head, taking a seat when Mary started to talk, he watching her, placing his hands down. He was still nursing his wounded hand, rubbing his good one upon the burnt one, trying to make it feel god.<br><br>Reginald took a deep breath and then said, "Err... And.... Unfortunate circumstance of working nights exclusively for years?" In a confused voice, as if he was trying to make it make sense even to himself. "Ah... Well, I don't... think it's anyone's business." He commented, looking to the side, "I am sure some would think, uhh, wrong of either situation. So... I won't say anything." He shook his head and then cleared his throat, "But, err... I... I could just go away like you asked..."&nbsp; He pointed down to the coffee and stood up, glancing to the door.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>08-04-2014, 23:20:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She rolled her eyes visibly, brushing her fingers through her dark locks with a languished sigh. Of coarse he thought she was talking to him, he couldn't see the creature even if he was as she was now beginning to think, something unnatural. Though she hoped not, as that would mean she would need to take certain steps and her companion would be back to make sure, all loose ends were tied up. But the way his hand fizzled as if but to the coals seemed highly unlikely to be just a symptom of his uncouth lifestyle. She squeezed the long silver pin her hand, her knuckles turning white from the intense strain of her grip.<br><br>"I wasn't referring to you, and no I think it would best you stayed put."<br><br>Her voice was slow and deliberate, she moved from her seat in a rustle of teal silk ruffles and positioning herself between him and the door. Her hand came up to the small off white pearl buttons of her dress, she undoes them slowly tugging her collar and widening the diamond cut out of her dresses bodice. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she pears over her shoulder, through the small window of the door. No on is currently walking the path between the passenger compartment, so no one would have caught their raised voices.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>09-04-2014, 06:53:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Reginald would have immediately went to sit back down when she said it would be best if he stayed. The way she spoke, to his mind, seemed more like an order. A command one might say to a dog, even if it was her giving an opinion. But he did quickly plop down upon the seat, obediently, watching the woman as she did the opposite of him. She stood from her seat, where he took his own, and then she went to the door, shifting her clothes in a fashion the man had considered a bit improper. And due to that, his eyes shifted so that he looked to the covered window, he feeling his face flushed a bit, though it was no more than a light pink at his cheeks as he let the woman check the window.<br><br>After a moment, the man took a deep breath and gave a clearing of his throat, as if he wanted attention. This was because he did want the attention, but didn't want to stare. He was clumsy about what he wanted to say, but spoke none-the-less, "I, uhm... Think the signs were a bit obvious, if it is fair. I just didn't want to bring it up or accuse anything, to offend. I am not quite sure how it is really working here is all..." Reginald's eyes would dart to the woman's face, and down her body before snapping back to the blocked window, "Regardless of heritage, I think you look charming." He figuring flattery would be a nice touch... especially since it wasn't an outright lie.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>10-04-2014, 04:04:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You know. I didn't think this could be any more awkward, but I was wrong."<br><br>She's clearly taken off guard by his comment, also by the fact he seemed so cool and casual about just forgetting what had happened to his hand. Even as the smell of cooked flesh still hovered in the still air of the cabin. In her mind her visage had been flawless, she'd bought the gown and bought the right hat. Worn her hair correctly, christ, she'd even practiced how to suppress the lapse in her speech when she spoke english to make it less noticeable. With all the immigrants flooding in and out of transit, her charade was damn near flawless. No one had given her a second glance, not in Philadelphia and not in New york. Certainly not on the this train either. But if he could, its because it takes a faker to know one. <br><br>Slowly she moved from the door and sat back down, opposite him. Decorum broken, she didn't really see a reason to keep up her uncomfortable charade. Bending forward she reached the frilled hem of her dress and lifted. Exposing her black leather pointed, heeled ankle boot and further still the lean but feminine line of her leg clad in a silk stocking, white and red stripes. She tugs the heavy silk up over her knee and still further up her thigh to where the garder attaches to the stocking. There neatly tucked under the thin baby blue garder, into her stocking is a small silver flask and a small derringer pistol, stropped to her leg with a thin beaded bit of what looks like raw hide. She tugs the flask free and quickly throws her skirt back down to the floor. <br><br>"So you want to tell me what that was Reginald? Or should I open the blinds so we can refresh our collective memory of what happened?<br><br>She popped the flask with her thumb and set the long silver pin down, piercing it rudely into the cushion beside her so it stood erect next to her. Tipping the flask back she took a drink, to settle her nerves for what is about to come. Its a relief to finally have a drink after so much forced sobriety in 'polite company' not just him but in the weeks prior as well. She reach for the coin purse and set the flask in her lap. The purse had been discarded on the seat beside her and Mary withdrew a single cigarette and put it to her lush dark crimson lips, followed by a small match box. She strikes one and cups her hand over the end, breathing in slowly on the end until it is lit. Mary sighs slowly and appreciatively as the smoke escapes her parted lips, waving the lit latch out before depositing it back in the box and the box then into her small change purse. The small burning hand rolled cigarette clutched between her index and fore finger, she watched him through the dispersing smoke and offered him the flask.<br><br>"I don't think you'll like it but you look like you could use it."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>10-04-2014, 08:49:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Oh, anything can get more awkward, just how situations work..." Reginald muttered in response, though it seemed as if he was talking more to himself than the woman before him. But then, he managed to lift his hand up and take the hat from his head, settling it in his lap, once more. He wanted to tell her of his deductions, but it might get her more guarded. She described of family in the savage lands, the way she was curious of his experience and knowledge. He could have swore she was even glaring at him at one point, but then she was perfectly concealed, even her accent was a slight tell, but very slight and only when he was listening more closely.<br><br>While the woman had went to sit, he was rubbing at his hand, peeling away some of the skin with a wince and rubbing at the tenderness underneath. He sighed out, looking to her as she pulled her skirt up and pinned it up. The man cleared his throat, blushing a bit and looking to the side, not wanting to seem rude, then again, what was she doing? He could swear he saw she had a small pistol at her leg, which was concerning. Was this a subtle threat? Once Mary spoke, Reginald couldn't help but gasp, and look to her, eyes wide when she actually spoke of the blinds.<br><br>"No!" He shouted, before calming, "No... The blinds are... fine." He putting his hand up, watching her before looking to the window. How much could he tell her? <em>Should</em> he tell her? He closed his eyes, shaking his head. He knew something she was, but the difference was she might get snubbed and get pushed back to her people. What about him? He would be hunted, and actively. She might get caught out and beaten to death, but they wouldn't look for her, search every alley, every town until she was dead. He though... But what else was to happen? She could make some connections, then again, the Americans here probably didn't know much of what he really was...<br><br>"I..." He started, turning his attention to her as she offered the flask, causing him to blinked. "I'm..." He was going to pass, but this might be something for her to test. See if he was friendly or stuck up, "I'm thinking I should.." He managed to squeak out, taking a hand up, the unburnt one and pulled theflask up, figuring it would be whiskey at the very least and some kind of native firewater, otherwise. Either way, he would take a quick drink, handing it back, and opening his mouth. "Listen, I just... And going away, starting over. It will be hard, I know, since I'm a unique case. But I just want to live my life, all right?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>11-04-2014, 03:46:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br>She took the flask back from him, surprised he didn't grimace in response to the bitter rain water whisky. It's made with collected rain water, usually in areas of the west where fresh water is scarce, so they add almost pure alcohol into it, to kill anything that would make you sick. But it tastes terrible, gets you trashed though. It was all there was when she had last been able to drink, in the company of less than reputable people when she was last in Dodge city. She tilted her raven haired head back, taking a long draw of the flask. She by no means liked to be in this situation but it seemed to find her all the same.<br><br>"I know what it is to be unique and if you were earnest about trying to begin again. You get away with a good deal more out west then would ever be tolerated on the East coast and certainly Europe." <br><br>It was true, there were plenty of 'unique' cases who lived perfectly fine and even sometimes happy lives out west. They were just completely and utterly outweighed by the scum that flooded off the trains in search of fresh hunting grounds and new prey. And thats why she wasn't sure she could let him off this train alive. All the same she wasn't happy about it. Slowly she took another swig, she had liked him a good deal and he seemed not put off by her ethnicity. A little scared perhaps, but that pin she'd brandished at him before, that was now stuck in the cushion beside her was sharp. The pale flush of his cheeks she attributed to his adrenaline and the touch of whisky. She offered him the flask again.<br><br>"You know this new start, this great west you imagine. Doesn't exist. There's a reason every town there has a saloon, its the only thing that makes it bearable."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>13-04-2014, 06:05:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The man took a few deep breaths as he felt as if his throat was on fire, but he didn't since or grimace at the alcohol's effect. He just stared forwards, wiggling his jaw as he clasped his hands together watching the woman's skirt-hem in thought. He was still rather unsure about all this, concerned she might delve deeper, to try and learn what he was or, worse, tell someone and have him hunted before he even managed to settle somewhere new and begin anything. But hen she spoke, causing his gaze to lift up and stare at her face, his mouth slightly agape as he listened to her words. "Well, I was hoping that. To get lost in the crowd, you know... I mean, maybe you do..."<br><br>Reginald would have stood up, placing a hand to the ceiling, as it wasn't too hard to do in this compartment. He stood there, trying to figure out what to say. Maybe convince her he wasn't really a threat or just keep quiet and not speak of it again. Maybe she'd just let him go? His eyes shifted to the flask when she offered it to him, again. The liquid within sloshing a bit from her movements and the constant, subtle shaking of the train on the tracks. He didn't want to be rude, but it wasn't his taste, so he put his hand up, palm flat to her to show his refusal, "Thank you... One is enough for me."<br><br>His gaze shifted back up, staring at the curtain as if he could peer out the window even with it blocking the view. Of course, this wasn't the case, but he could pretend. "I know it will be hard. It might have some lawless men there to make trouble for me... But... I doubt it is as bad as I had it before. I doubt I will be in as much fear as I was with my old boss... And then I won't be forced into anything I don't want..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>13-04-2014, 20:21:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She brought the dwindling cigarette to her lips, it was burning down nearly between her fingers, and took another slightly softer drag. She felt bad for the guy, honestly, she really did. The west was going to chew him up and spit him out, especially with whatever this skin affliction of his was. Supernatural or not.&nbsp; Slowly her head nodded forward, following his train of sight, to look down at the silk teal ruffle adorning the hem of her dress. Peculiar place to be looking, she slowly exhaled a serpent of smoke that drifted up to the ceiling and dissipated into the ether. Had he been keen on the sight her stockings? She wondered, though he seemed a shy and regimented guy.<br><br>"Yeah I think I might have some inkling what your talking about."<br><br>Her voice was thick with sarcasm, a poor attempt to add levity to the situation at hand. Though she suspected, watching him warily stand and extend his arm above his head, he was past being pacified by her meager attempts humor. Her hand came up to her neck, lightly gripping the base of her throat&nbsp; and letting her fingers tangle for a moment in her unruly black mane. Mary plunged the burning end of her cigarette into the grooved window seal and crushed it. Tossing the shriveled bud into her coin purse for temporary disposal.<br><br>"First of all there is no 'might' in that statement, might entails its a remote possibility instead of a stone cold fact. First of all, lose the hat. Harsh but true. I don't know allot about you I suppose, I don't even know if what I do know is true but I suppose you do have one thing right. There is an absolute, and often terrifying, sense of true freedom where were headed."<br><br>She watched him look at the drapes, blocking the broad window that bridged the distance between their seats. He seemed, what was the word? Forlorn, yes he seemed forlorn. With a empathetic sigh, she lifted the many layers of petticoat and skirts exposing her stocking glad leg once more. With one final swig, she replaced the flask under her blue grader for safe keeping and tossed her skirts back over her&nbsp; stripped stocking clad knee. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>15-04-2014, 06:24:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Reginald shook his head, moving back to the seat in the compartment before looking over at Mary as she placed her flash back to where it was, pushing the skirt back down her legs to hide the stockings she wore underneath. The man looked over the woman's clothes, humming lightly before lifting his gaze to her face. "You are right. I know there will be trouble, but for me... I think it's worth it. And as for my hat..." He muttered slow, looking down at the bowler, "I like this hat..." He shook his head, looking back to her and asking, "Why should I lose it? Why not use it to have the trouble to find me so I can get rid of them..." He spoke a bit more coldly at the idea, "I mean, is it because it would look like I have money? Or just because it doesn't make me look 'tough'?"<br><br>The sudden idea came to his mind. This caused a slow smirk to come to his face. At first Mary wouldn't know, but Reginald decided to go ahead and voice his thoughts, speaking out to her as he leaned forwards, "And think of it! I doubt many keep with it. Maybe I could get a nice nickname and a bit of a reputation for it. "Bowler Brawler" sounds hilarious to me." A laugh escaped his lips as he leaned back, pressing against the cushions of the seat as he did, eventually easing his laughter and giving a sigh.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>16-04-2014, 19:32:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She arched a slender dark brow at his adamant defense of his bowler. Was he serious? Did he really not have even the most basic knowledge of the 'wild west' and its customs. Hadn't he ad least read the popularized fiction of the west, a dime store paper back novel. Available for sale in the very train station they'd departed from, in the gift shop. Mary shook her head slowly and looked down at her black leather clad hands. Slowly she tugs on the black leather tip of each of her fingers, loosening the gloves before resolutely tugging them off to reveal her slender tan hands tipped with a black painted nail. Not the fashion of the day.<br><br>"Never mind, you'll understand why I suggest it when you get there."<br><br>She replied lightly, puzzled by the quickening of a wide grin in his pale features, it seemed out of place. To be fair, he wasn't aware of her inner battle over what would become of him when they came into their first stop. But ad least he seemed more at ease, she hated to keep morbid and forlorn company. However ridiculous his idea was. She took a note from him and also leaned back in to the red upolstered back of the seat, casting a glance at the window. She wanted to see the scenery but didn't want him to burn and combust.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>17-04-2014, 07:14:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The man's joviality seemed to die out when she looked to him in a way that made it quite clear that she figured him for a fool. With that noticed, Reginald would lower his head and then move a hand up to remove his hat. His reddish eyes looked over the material until he took a deep breath. He moved over to the window, unfastening it and opening it just enough for him to push the hat outside. In spite of the daylight, he thrust the article of clothing out, a light hissing coming from his skin. With the hat fluttering at the gust and falling down over the terrain so that he would never see it again, he quickly closed the window again with a slam. After he fastened the window shut, he moved back to his seat and settled back in it.<br><br>Thanks to the wind from the short time the window was opened, his short hair was sticking up oddly. And despite his attempts to brush it down with his fingers it seemed to poke back up again. His attention was on the woman, with a look of seriousness, displaying on his face he disposed of the hat just because he decided to trust her. After a moment, his gaze went downwards to his feet, hands clasping together and settling in his lap as he fell silent, safe hand rubbing at the slightly burnt skin from the light. He wasn't even sure what he should say, if he should ask her something, but decided on just saying, "That was stupid of me. I could have easily tossed it in the waste when we stopped..." speaking in a low way as if it was some revelation.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>17-04-2014, 23:01:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Immediately she regretted saying anything, she couldn't just have let him have his happy fantasy for a few moments. Mentally she kicked herself, bringing her hands up to rub her temples just as he seemed to making some kind of suicidal gesture. Her eyes widened as he approached the window, she almost jumped out of her seat to stop him. But it was over so fast, just a quick peak of sunlight split the room and then his hat was gone. Mary frowned, looking down at her lamp shamefully. She really wasn't a nice person, she'd driven him to throw a perfect nice bowler hat out a moving train window.<br><br>She watched him pat his dark hair, disheveled now and without a hat to cover it up. This was also, she supposed, her fault. Her dark crimson stained lips parted but she found herself fumbling, searching for her words as he apologized for his rash act. Which she suspected was a more or less just remorse for the loss, now that his hair was disheveled. Mary picked up her skirts and stood, closing the few steps between them she sat down next to him. Her change purse clutched in her hand, lightly she brushes out the wrinkles in her lap before half turning to look at him.<br><br>"You hand looks like it hurts, may I see it?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>18-04-2014, 19:05:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Reginald was silent, now, looking down and rubbing at the injured hand from the sunlight. He took a deep breath and then said, "Well, I need to play it smarter if I want to survive our west, huh?" In a mere whisper, before his head snapped up, looking to Mary. After she spoke to him, seemingly concerned with his hand. Without a word, he would have moved his hand forwards, his fingers would spread out, allowing her to see the flesh was burned, as though he had put it over a fire. It wasn't melting as if it had been shoved into the flames, but rather burnt as if harmed by the convection that radiated off it.<br><br>A deep breath would come from the englishman as he looked to his hand, to Mary's hand as it came to look over the burn marks. And he was concerned, but she might notice that the wound was seeming to recover rather quickly. Not so quickly a normal person may notice, but one with a sense for the supernatural could tell a normal man burned in such a way, even if the harsh sunlight was explained away to why it was burning him, he would be in a lot more pain and trying to recover more slowly than Reginald was, "Why... did you want to see it?" He questioned, only after he allowed her to.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>19-04-2014, 03:14:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She smiled a little at the notion of 'our' west, as he put it. He had a beautiful dream, an idealistic out look on his life going from an extremely dark, bad place to a quiet sort of hermitic peace. For a moment she let her mind wander, glad for the freedom from her companion as she would be chastised for day dreaming, regarding that untouchable utopia. The kind of place where two strangers could live their lives for themselves, maybe even someone else. She shook her head, tossing her dark hair around her burning and flushed cheeks. Trying to clear those sort of thoughts from her head. Mary couldn't afford to live like that and unfortunately she would be the one to make it clear to him, neither could he. <br><br>Her gentle, tan hand took his lightly and their palms touched. She felt the coolness of his skin wash over hers, and her amber eyes darted from under her thick lashes to him, suspiciously. Cradling his hand with one hand she brought her other to lightly brush the burn on his hand, it wasn't singed but more like it was cooked. Lightly she pressed her starkly dark tawny fingers to the wound on his comparably lighter hand.&nbsp; Feeling the give of the flesh, betraying the quickly healing layers of skin just below the charred surface. This wasn't a natural occurrence, despite his apparent harmless nature. <br><br>"So is it just sunlight or…"<br><br>Her eyes dart over to her seat opposite, still clutching his hand in hers, glancing at the silver pin stuck in the cushions. Supernatural creatures in her experience had an negative affinity for silver.<br><br>"Are there other things that agitate your condition?…"<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>20-04-2014, 07:52:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Admittedly, he was getting rather worried of this whole thing as Mary handled his injured hand. His eyes were staring down at her fingers that went over the burns. The touch didn't hurt, yet he winced. It was psychological. The touching that she did was giving him deep concern that she might figure something out. Then again, she wasn't one of those palm readers and, even if she was, she had him palm down, not up. Reginald drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs to near-bursting before he exhaled, slowly, raising his gaze from their hands to Mary's brown-skinned face.<br><br>"Or? Or what?" He questioned, before she went on, furthering the question by asking if here was more. With that, he furrowed his brow and leaned his head down in thought. <em>Was there anything else?</em> He questioned to himself, going through the various scenarios since he had been... afflicted with this 'condition' of his, as Mary so put it. He also tried to remember what his 'Boss' said on keeping himself safe. One of the things he recalled, that he thought would be suicide, was him and his 'Boss' coming to a church, grounds of a holyman, but after a bit of bullying he was told why they were set there. Apparently symbols of faith, churches, crosses, graveyards, were only as strong as the faith of the one to use it. The priest at the time had faltered in his faith and was more like a con artist, why the church with just that main failed him.<br><br>There was one thing he knew burned as bad as the light, though. With his eyes shifting back up, glancing to the pin in the cushions, he admitted, "Silver, regardless, is bad for me. An... Allergy, I suppose..." Slowly, he would attempt to take his hand back from her, his other one coming to cradle it. "But, the sunlight... I can overcome that with some..." He paused, considering what to call it. He couldn't be completely honest, with the concern she may disregard who he was and put more pieces together. Then again, the States didn't seem to have trouble with the supernatural as much as back in Europe... But it was still safe to be cautious...<br><br>"I can get over it with some medicine. It's... Specialized and becomes uh... Inert very quickly, so I have to go to specific... clinics for it." For some reason, the blatant lie made him feel bad. The true part was he could over the sunlight. But that required enough of the 'medicine' each night before to be strong enough to ignore the rays of light from the sky. He knew it was for his own safety so he tried his best to push the guilt from his mind of lying.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>21-04-2014, 20:09:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br>His eager attempts to gain the line of her questioning, didn't bode well for his chances of getting off this train alive in Illinois. His line of vision followed her own, to the silver pin stuck in the seat cushion across from them. That was a poor answer and she let his hands slip from her own. That was no allergy, that was an supernatural resolution sticking in that seat across from them. Her hand fell to her teal silk covered lap, with a dull and limp thud. This was truly unfortunate, now that their conversation had taken this dark turn. Though she had more to ask of him, since he seemed so willing to talk and she found people with supernatural afflictions usually didn't. <br><br>"What kind of medicine?"<br><br>Her eyes took in his form, the contours of the tailors lines of his suit and took rough measurements of his physic. She didn't regard him as much of a threat, her amber hued eyes fell upon his face, taking in the fumble of his lips and the shifting of his eyes. Her brow arched at his hesitant speech.All tell tale signs of someone who is currently lying through their teeth. Her brows furrowed and looked down, for a moment averting her gaze from him.&nbsp; Her hands rested against her knees, through the fabric and she slowly curled her fingers, clutching the fabric in her small white knuckled fists.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>21-04-2014, 23:46:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>That was a mistake...</em> The man had thought to himself, once she asked what kind of medication he could use to resolve his condition. His attention lowered, eyes focusing on the floor of the railcar, as he tried his best to think his way out of this. But he couldn't. If he lied more, she would see through it. It was obvious she was suspicious. And if he kept going, allowing her suspicions to grow, it was possible that she would find him as the monster as many people claimed one as him to be in the old world. What was he to do?<br><br>Reginald lifted his gaze, the worry he had was unable to be hidden from her if she stared to the reddish-brown eyes. His breath was broken, his attention shifting to the pin, again, knowing she could just stab him in the chest and that would be it. He could risk it. Just attack her now and try to kill her, with the advantage... Or he could try to run, but he had not fed in a long enough time the sun would burn him horribly if he left the train. Or... he could tell the truth, try to show him he was just in an unfortunate circumstance and really meant what he said, because he did.<br><br>"If..." He started, voice quivering as he tried his best to keep his eyes on the woman and not turn away. He had to show her he meant what he said, for the risk of they getting into a fight here. "If I tell you the whole truth... Do you promise not to hurt me for it?" His hands gripped firmly at the bottom of his jacket, the fabric lightly being ripped as his nails cut into them from his idle scratching of it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>22-04-2014, 20:43:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He kept looking to the pin, tilting her head to the side she peered past the dark unruly lacks of her hair falling against the curve of her cheek at the slender object puncturing the red seat cushions. His skittishness was a very apt response to her, perhaps it was starting to dawn on him that she was a threat and concern should be floundering his brain right now. Her eyes scanned over his face, taking in the formation of his bones pressing from under his pale skin and the curious depths of red in his brown eyes. It was clear that he was weighing his options and feeling her out as well, the tension between his brows said it all. In those subtle sign she saw a possible threat in this unassuming man, her lithe hand slipped over the curve of her knee. Her fingers curled around the fabric in a fist, ready at any instant to pull clothe and reach for the weapon strapped to her leg.<br><br>It took her a long few moments of stoicism, masking her inner conflict, to respond to him with any measure of certainty. Her hand still perched upon her knee, she was sure not to allow her eyes to drift towards the silver pin opposite. Maintaing a level of politeness by telling him to his face.<br><br>"I'm not going to hurt you."<br><br>Which in its essence was true, her voice nor her trail of sight into his reddish brown depths wavered as she spoke. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>23-04-2014, 07:05:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The distress of the situation was still upon his face, even as she said she wouldn't hurt him. He didn't know if she would be lying or not, some people were skilled liars, after all. But she <em>seemed</em> genuine when she spoke. A deep breath was drawn in as he turned his gaze from her, he deciding to speak plainly, a small bit of history of what he had been through and then an explanation of what he was... Or maybe the other way? He was not going on any real plan, as he hoped to conceal himself longer than this. But here he was, under the scrutiny of this woman after having seen what had happened to him and he trying to speak vaguely, but she asking more specifics than he wanted to give.<br><br>"I am cursed by my boss. I have been even when I was still in Yorkshire. My boss had deciding the way the yanks were getting things settled would be a good thing to blend into. It was larger grounds than our island nation and there was so much to go about, to learn and many places to hide. But... That was also how I managed to get away. He was not a pleasant man. Abusive, cruel. Appropriate for being called a monster for this curse but.. I am not like that. All I want is a life like before... Well..." he paused, his gaze turning back to the woman, "Maybe not exactly. I was brought to him because of how bad off I was. I... had some trouble with money, had to get through to someone and he had the way to clear some bad men off me. And so I did in exchange for working for him. I... didn't have the spine for it... I mean, I thought I would die from the..." He paused again, silencing himself as he realized he was rambling.<br><br>His right hand came to his head, he rubbing at his brow with closed eyes, "You don't need my whole story, you just want to know what I am... What I... need to do and..." Reginald just groaned, pulling his hand away, settling it down in his lap, along with the other, head still down, trying to keep his thoughts in line and trying to figure what to say exactly. "Mary... I am just a cursed man. I have the ability to have great powers, but at that I require blood. Human blood. I have tried, believe me, but animal blood will not do. I mean, it works, but it makes one like myself feel lethargic, even ill. With blood I gain power, I gain vitality and protection. Without it, I grow weak and my weaknesses are compounded upon the longer I go without..."<br><br>His heart skipped a beat as he realized what she may be thinking, he putting his hands up and shouting, "But! I do not kill anyone for it! I'm... I'm not a murderer! of..." He let his voice lower as he said, "Of anyone innocent, at least..." practically muttering at the end.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>25-04-2014, 23:25:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She listened to him, the hesitant recount of his life and whatever what he had now, that couldn't really even be considered as a life. An afterlife? Her eyes, bright and lucid, despite the liberal indulgence of whisky were on his face. As he speaks she reaches for her change purse, pulling forth another slender off white cigarette. Placing the small sliver of paper and tobacco to her plush, dark rouge lips. Her fingers effortlessly and in one fluid sequence of motions, found her match box and struck one to flame. The cruel and abrasive nature of his employer hit a cord with her. The displacement of his life into this grey area where his soul now dwelled, having been at the fault and behest of another. That, she could relate to. Slowly she brought her hand up cupping the flickering flame around the end of her cigarette. Her plush lips purse as she inhales, drawing the match away with a flick of her wrist setting the flame out and discarding it into her change purse. Her hand rises, taking he smoke from her lips between her index and middle finger. <br><br>"So you weren't born like this, someone made you. Your boss made you in his image, wouldn't you want to stay with him?"<br><br>Mary couldn't help but interject, taking advantage of his pause to rub the strain and tension from his brow, before continuing. At an easy pace she dress on the end of the cigarette and exhaled, the smoke climbs to the highest of the passenger car and disperses against the wallpapered ceiling. Visibly she stiffen and the cigarette between her fingers trembles, the subtle tilt of her head brings a wave of unruly black hair across her downcast, smoldering brown eyes. Her gaze quickly becomes distant at the mention of blood, she draws again on her cigarette. This time with a pained sigh as she slowly exhaled the sweet smelling smoke.<br><br>"I see…You feed off people, you have to feed off people."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>26-04-2014, 21:33:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"No... I wasn't born like this..." Reginald confirmed, looking up to the woman, watching as she took a draw on the cigarette and then just let the smoke out, his eyes following the trail as it went up to the top of the cabin. His eyes closed, head still tilted back as he took a deep breath, himself. His attention lowered down before he said, "Uhm... I can delay it. But the longer I go the weaker I feel... The weaker I <em>am</em>... I don't have to kill anyone for it... And if I can prevent it I do... I just..." His eyes opened staring to her before immediately lowering his head back, his hands fiddling with one another in his lap.<br><br>"I know... It seems bad... maybe even a&nbsp; bit evil. But I don't want to die. But I also don't want to be... oppressed. I was just figuring out a way to get things out and get myself in control of... well... my life. I am under no illusions of what I need to do... But you can't spread this curse unless you want to... So I have no fear of transfering it to any innocent person. Or... Any guilty person. The idea of another person like my boss give me the shivers." The man clasped his hands together, staring forwards and realizing he would like a cig, himself. But he was bare and he didn't want to ask her for one, or even a drag, since he revealed something that might make her more intent on snuffing it in his eyes.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>27-04-2014, 00:46:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br>Her pity for him had never been in question, she felt a mild sense of comrodery to him as he was the offspring of something dark and supernatural, where once he had been human. His rationalization were jumbled, not a long eloquent speech on how his nature was simply his nature. He wasn't trying to defend his parasitic existence as anything profound and noble, just his sad reality. She noticed the look of want in his eyes, for a moment she became flustered and drew deep on the sweet smelling, tobacco cigarette. The realization did finally dawn on her as she watched the line of his sight. Tracing it to the cigarette clutched between her fingers and not her. She almost laughed at her misunderstanding, reaching into her coin purse and drawing out another slender cigarette. She offered him the small token, despite his confession of his bestial nature.<br><br>"Here. I think you could use that. Can I ask something, are you feeling weak?"<br><br>It was double edged question. If he were to answer no then she would know that he had partaken of a trapped passenger, some no one in the crowd. If he were to say yes that she would come to a some what darker conclusion. The no one in the crowd was in fact her and this conversation was going to take a silvery, bloody turn.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>27-04-2014, 06:04:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The man didn't seem to think twice at the offer. Originally he may have, just to be polite, only to 'give in' after the merest of prods. But for now he was just flustered. The whole situation was rattling him, even if she seemed like she was accepting everything so well. Maybe the 'savages' were more understanding of others than the yanks gave them credit for. He had taken the cigarette, giving a low bow of appreciation when she gave it to him before moving it to his lips. He allowed the fag to hang in his mouth, unlit of yet before his eyes snapped to the woman at the question she gave.<br><br>Such a question seemed like a double-edge to him, as well. But for different reasons. He didn't think she was asking for the safety of others, or even her own, since he was not thinking on feeding upon anyone at this time. If anything, he figured the cig would calm his nerves of this whole situation and desired the puff more than blood he was required to keep mobile. No, the question, to him, seemed to be asking for the sake of what she might do to him. If he answered truthfully would she try to end him? But she had been so... nice to him so far. That couldn't be it. He was getting twitchy for nothing. <br><br>Reginald closed his eyes, thinking on things before saying, "I haven't fed on anyone, if that is what you are asking. It has been a few days, but I can go past a week, maybe even stretch it to two if I am careful. When I am at my full strength, the sun is nothing more than an irritant and I can shrug off most wounds. It is convenient... But the price can be high. Not only for the ones I would need to... you know... But suspicions grow high due to that..." While he was speaking, he was checking his pockets, soon pulling out a matchbook he had gotten from one of the local stores before he got on the train. Flipping it open he realized he only had three matches left, now two as he snapped the stick of one and struck it to light the cigarette in his mouth.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>29-04-2014, 20:11:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She smiled at his acceptance of her small hand rolled cigarette, blended with her own mixture of clove and sage. At any other time the gift of a cigarette would have been easily dismissed, but she thought perhaps in this moment of tension and stress. That he was in fact, very grateful. Because now he had as excuse for a small reprieve, to search amongst his pockets for a light. This lapse in their conversation also gave her some much needed time for reflection on the nature of her relatively new acquaintance. He wasn't human, no that would have been far to convenient for her. To simply ride out the distance between Philadelphia and Dodge city. God forbid she ever have a reprieve from the supernatural and the siren call of her own less than charming, nature. Though ad least her literally, bestial half had the decency to disperse when it wasn't wanted. Though it would be back with a vengeance. She wasn't even entirely sure that when it did dissipate into the ether it was ever truly gone, since she always seemed thoroughly informed despite lengthy absences.<br><br>Lightly she drew on the end of the cigarette, the sweet smelling smoke billowed from between her lush rouged lips. The serpentine smoke crawled upwards like a slow slither, dispersing and leaving nothing save the sweet flowery smell. Idly she held the cigarette in front of her face between her first and second knuckle, watching the red cinders burn at the end trailing a line of smoke. It occurred to her that she smoked this particular blend because of its mystical properties, to purify the air and ward off evil. She wondered idly, if he were to have some adverse effect, though his form of monstrosity was like no indigenous american one she'd ever encountered. Against which she employed such herbs to dispel and discourage winabe, a blanket term for dark entities. Similar to the word for monster or ghost. Carefully she brought the cigarette to her lips once more, her interest peaked by his professed abstinence from humans for the time being.<br><br>"So you won't be replenishing yourself on the train, quarters are too close and observed. But the train stops soon in Chicago. "<br><br>It was more of an observation than a question, because the answer seems readily apparent. He would, as he professed, need to feed ablest in the next week or so. Based on what she had told him so far about Dodge, most likely he was weighing his options and would come out in favor of a more civilized setting to feed. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>30-04-2014, 01:32:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Reginald took a couple of of seconds to let his match hover just under the cigarette, he drawing in a couple breaths to allow the paper and herbs within to ignite. Once they had become enflamed, the man shook out the flame of the match, causing the fire to snuff and a slight billow of smoke to come off it once the flame stopped. He would settle the burnt-out match to the groove next to the window. He was silent as he drew in a few breaths, actually seeming to enjoy the smoke coming to his lungs. While the smoke circled itself within him, he would lean back before exhaling the smoke, allowing it to spread out and up to the ceiling of the car they sat within.<br><br>The question came and caused him to frown. He didn't want to admit it... It was rather embarrassing and kind of concerning when people had to ask about his... habits.&nbsp; After all, a person who feeds on other humans? He may as well get hung as soon as anyone heard of it and was rather grateful that she hadn't immediately gone for that pin and jabbed it right to his chest. He drew in another breath of smoke to prepare for the answer he was going to give, knowing she might not like the idea, overall, but she was right. He didn't need to feed, at least until the train halted.<br><br>While he let the smoke billow from his lips he decided to actually speak out, his eyes low, as if he was ashamed of the whole thing, "Well... I should be fine for a few days... For the train, though, no I don't need to feed on anyone during the trip..." He kept his eyes down, considering something before speaking out, "I... Uhm... Of course, the shorter the time between the less I need... But... I will admit something... I... kind of half-figured the west would cover me easier... My... needs... And... Allow me to do so upon more guilty than innocent people."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>02-05-2014, 00:52:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She felt mildly guilty for hoping for some sort of negative effect, but it would have given her ad least the semblance of the upper hand. He had after all, betrayed himself to be somewhat formidable should he choose to be. Though he seemed fairly harmless, puffing away on his smoke. Warily she watched the smoke crawl from his lips upwards towards the ceiling as he settled in, enjoying his cigarette. She drew long and hard on her own, nearly finished, cigarette. Letting the apparently harmless smoke filter out from between her parted lips. Between the two of them a light haze of smoke fills the cabin air, like a veil of sweet smelling grey fog. His enjoyment was swiftly cut down it seemed, the corner of his lips turn down in a frown at her question.&nbsp; Was he thinking about that silver pin in the cushions across from them, as he weighed his answer?<br><br>"Well of coarse you would blend in, anonymity is the western way of life. People go missing all the time, anomalies such as yourself are common place. Not that I'm saying most people know about them, but I'm not surprised."<br><br>She leaned across, the last of her cigarette burning down between her fingers and the air thick with spent smoke. Her curves of her upper body barely brushes him, as she leans across him and snuffs out her cigarette the in the groove of the window. Pulling back she deposits the bud in her coin purse. The train jostles a little, they were so engrossed in their conversation neither had thought to pull back the curtains. The train lurches and Mary reaches down, holding onto the edge of the seat between them for balance.The train slows, the faint high pitched skreatch signifies the wheels coming to a stop on the tracks. Outside the sounds of the Chicago train station bustle with voices, faint murmurs and echoes of foot steps.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>02-05-2014, 01:33:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I really am hoping that..." Reginald admitted, lowering his eyes to the cigarette he held between his fingers, the smoke trailing up from it like some kind of serpent before he brought it to his lips. He sucked in the smoke, closing his eyes as he gave a long drag of it, holding it in as he considered things. After a moment, he released his breath, allowing the smoke to just leak out from his lips as he had opened his eyes, looking to Mary. His mouth opened, as if to speak before the sound of the train's breaks came, causing the englishman to instinctual grab at the side of his seat to halt any extra movement.<br><br>Were they there already? It seemed but a few hours, at most... Yet the bustling sounds of a city rang through and he wanted to look out the window, but simultaneously feared of being burnt again, causing more people to question his new-found injuries on a train that had coffee as the only hot thing around outside the engine room. His reddish-brown eyes looks questionably to Mary, as if pleading to her to give him some direction at his point, before slowly standing, "Is this... Do you think this is the end of the line?" He questioned, not sure how far they traveled anymore. For some reason, he felt a bit disoriented, maybe even a little sick. The nervousness of going out so far from his comfort zone was getting to.<br><br>While he waited for an answer, he pushed down on the lit end of the cig to the groove near the window before pushing the butt in one of the pockets of his coat, taking a few deep, calming breaths.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>05-05-2014, 23:33:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Mary relaxed her grip on the red upholstered seat between them as the train came to a full and complete stop. The noises of the outside, people voices and the muddled clatter of foot steps, reverberated across the confines of the passenger car. And it seemed that he was put on edge by the notion they had reached Dodge City. It would seem he wasn't quite as upbeat about the west as he'd seemed initially.&nbsp; Though she blamed herself for dispersing his rose tinted vision of the west. If he was already this on edge, they were only in Illinois, how was this englishmen gonna fair when they actually got to their destination.<br><br>&nbsp;She stood, brushing down the winkles in the lap of her skirt, smoothing out the shiny rippling teal silk. She crossed the distance to her side of the train, peaking carefully around the edge of the silk curtain. The light streamed across her features for a moment, leaving him concealed in the dark opposite her. Outside there was a concrete platform on and a small rail station, lined with people waiting to board the train. Illinois was fairly well populated, it was the jumping off point for wagon trains and they seemed to have stopped short of Chicago. In a relatively small town, based on what she could spy past the railway station.<br><br>"Were stopping in Illinois, its not Chicago though. There must be some engine trouble or something, looks like some small back water town…"<br><br>She tried to reassure him with a small smile, tugging the curtain back into place and letting her hand fall to her side. The light was fading outside, the sky a coral and orange hue. The sun wouldn't be up but another few minutes or so. Outside the door people shuffled past, their voices a dull but distinctly displeased roar. It would appear she'd been correct, that for some reason reason people were de-boarding the train.Her eyes fell on him, she hoped he wouldn't panic unnecessarily. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>06-05-2014, 03:16:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Illinois..." The pale man repeated, nodding his head before looking over to the side. His attention kept on her as she pushed back the curtain, looking out at it, giving her tanned skin an odd glow to it. But it was a really nice look. She looked better without the veil before and even more so in the actual light. And he realized that he missed being able to see people in natural light, as he might have been able to realize sooner how nicely this woman looked. <br><br>Not until Mary looked back to him, smiling did he notice he was staring at her. Quickly, Reginald turned his head with a slight blush upon his cheeks as he stood up from his seat. He decided he was going to go out and see about things, but then halted with a frown looking down in realization that he really couldn't. A deep breath came and then he sighed out, moving to sit back down, settling his hands down in his lap before he spoke, "I... Uhm... May need to wait here, if it's still daytime..." He stating rather flatly, allowing the woman to piece together why that was from the explanation and experiences she observed in this very cubby.<br><br>Reginald allowed his hands to fidget in his lap, head low as he asked, "So... Should we just wait? Or did you want to see what the issue was? I... I hope we're not stuck here. I mean, I could leave on foot the rest of the way, but I... you know... need to wait until nightfall if I do not get my strengths back..." He muttering the last part as if he considered that not even an option.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>11-05-2014, 19:35:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She'd already been wrong twice before in regards to his admiration of her, being of a purely friendly manner rather then something more. So when she'd turned back to him and found his eyes lingering upon her face, she'd not particularly given it any real thought. The faint color spreading across his pale and gaunt cheeks she'd attributed to his sun burn, perhaps even a sort of reaction to his fear of leaving the train. At his mention of being unable to leave while it was light out, which it still would be for another few minutes, she reached to her side and curled her fingers around the silver pin stuck in her seat. With a faint tug the thin silver pin slipped from the seat cushion, with her other hand she collected her veil from the seat. As he'd turned his head away, she'd moved across and seated herself back in his line of sight, directly beside him. Tentatively she pulled down the cuffs of her snug silky dress and drew the pin between her lips. Holding the silver moon adorned blade in the ripe curves of her dark lips as she drew her dark hair on top of her head. Carefully she replaced her hat and drew the pin from her lips, piecing the thin silver through her hat and effectively affixing her hair up. Though she saw no need in pulling the veil down yet.<br><br>"We can wait here I think, and if you don't want to go out to to the town. Then I will stay here with you, but the sun should be down shortly…"<br><br>Idly she'd wondered&nbsp; if, as she'd affixed her veil and hat with the silver blade, he'd wondered about her intentions with the silver pin. What she wanted to know in all honesty, was if he was afraid of her or had some inclining as to what she was. She'd guessed not which was good, it would make things much easier on her end. Demurely she crossed her tainted ankle boots at the ankle and folded her hands in her lap, watching his face for some faint sign of fear or turmoil.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>12-05-2014, 07:16:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Reginald had his hands together, gripping at them in slight worry. He drew in another breath, long and drawn out, before exhaling slowly. "I..." He turned his attention back to her as he squeezed his hands together in his lap, before halting his words. He just took the time, watching her take up the pin, causing his nervousness to shoot up again. However, a question came to mind of why he was so worried? She really gave him no reason to question her actions. Maybe it was just the natural concern of anything silver? Even the coins were not a pleasant thing for him to have a hand on, he always keeping gloves on when handling the metal, if he couldn't avoid it. And his careful thoughts were deemed correct. Her drawing the pin was nothing more than to get her hair back up, her disguise set.<br><br>Though he wouldn't admit it, he would be glad she kept the veil up. For some reason, he felt as if it would be more uncomfortable, now. Having once saw her actual face then staring into the black cloth, he figured it would be like staring at something unreal, unnatural. He did question why he was thinking on that, now. When she spoke, though, he gave a slight bow, speaking low, "Thank you. I will enjoy the company... I mean... I have before, as well..." After he rose up, his attention turned to the curtains, wishing to be able to look out, but fearing what might come of that.<br><br>"Mary..." He managed to get out, staring at the curtain, still, imagining what the outside would look in the day, "You... Don't seem as concerned of what I said about myself as I would figure... Are you... just looking for the right time to get rid of me? Or maybe just think I am some crazy englishman, that takes too much stock in fairytales?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>17-05-2014, 18:31:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He wasn't good at hiding his concern, in fact she wasn't sure if he was even attempting to conceal his apprehensions. She supposed that now that they had moved passed the farces of common pleasantries, mutual guises revealed, he felt somewhat exposed and uncertain of her intentions towards him. The satin of her full teal skirt shifted, a ripple of shine, as she repositioned and crossed her legs at the knee, towards him beneath her gown. Her hands gathered on the end of her bent knee, intent on his hesitant voice. No doubt her calm demeanor in the face of such a startling realization, his apparent condition, clearly concerned him more than tears or screaming would have. <br><br>Her head tilted a little to the side, a wordless question regarding his lapsing voice. She felt far more at ease now that he knew her true face and she knew his, so to speak. But his concerns, the natural urge for self preservation, seemed to be winning out over his apparent fondness for her and her company as he put it. Slowly she shook her head, her hand instinctively went up to the silver moon pin affixed in her hair, as she quickly tried to quash his fears.<br><br>"No I don't think your crazy, I'm not super concerned about your condition because of what I know about you as a person. Either your human disguise is impeccable or your not half the monster you seem to think you are…"<br><br>She'd purposefully skirted the topic of wether she was waiting to get rid of him, because as strongly inclined as she was to follow through and right the incorrigible wrong of his existence. She liked him, her eyes carefully swept across the contours of his now familiar face and she offered a faintly reassuring smile. Tentatively her hand left her knee, her slender and golden fleshed fingers rested on top of his own pale hand, offering a faint squeeze.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>18-05-2014, 08:31:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				In admission, he wasn't really sure what to expect from her. But he had this strange sense that he could trust her. Then again, his past ideas of who to trust had never really turned out too well... But the more that he thought on it, the he considered if it would be such a bad thing if he was finished. Not that he wanted to die, living was always his priority, but the fear of the unknown was what was concerning him. What would happen after, rather than the death itself, even if it was horrific, perhaps he had lived through worse?<br><br>When Mary had spoke, Reginald closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I..." He let out, trying to figure out what it was he could say to convey what he was feeling. It was difficult for him. The few people he did reveal the truth to did not go very well. Then again, that was back in England. Perhaps their superstitions run more deeply than here? Or maybe the redskins did not fully grasp what he was and so Mary, here, did not understand what it meant to do what he did, to be what he was? But either way, his eyes opened, looking over to her with his red-tinted brown eyes,<br><br>"Thank you..." He managed to say, moving a hand forwards. At first, there was this idea that it was a good idea to touch her, place a hand to her leg and give her a smile to reassure her. But then his fingers curled and hand recoiled away, thinking it would be improper, at best, and worthy of violence at worse. But it seemed as if she had an idea not too different, as he placed his hand back down to his own leg, only to be covered and squeezed by the woman in a reassuring way.<br><br>His eyes were down at the hand, at first, but then trailed up to her face. With the smile and touch, he couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed. And maybe some spark of being enamored with her as well. A light pink did come from his pale cheeks and his mouth was opened slightly as he stared upon her face, unsure how to really react, now... But he didn't know why he was having trouble. She was someone he just made. She was being nice, but it seemed such a rarity that his mind was going down a road that would, perhaps, be considered ludicrous.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>23-05-2014, 00:17:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It hadn't occurred to her until her hand covered his own, that he'd been considering the same action but he'd decided against it. Idly she wondered if he now viewed her as some uncouth heathen, who's actions lacked bounds or reason. If she had been trying to lull him into a false sense of security, she'd have been doing a marvelous job judging by the blush which spread across his pale cheeks. He seemed lost for words as she took in his physic again, with more a more earnest and less analytical gaze. Reginald was taller than her, she was by all accounts a small women, made up of slight and dusky curves beneath the confines of her teal silk gown. His suit was refined and to a certain degree it made him appear somewhat weak, now in light of his admission she found that it was an impeccable guise by which to hide his dark appetites. <br><br>He looked so thoroughly shocked, she mused as her eyes rose back to his face and affixed to his own, meeting his somewhat heated gaze with her own. It occurred to her that she'd broken almost every rule of polite interaction by simply laying her hand upon his, her golden flesh bright against the fairness of his unnaturally pale skin. Her dark brown eyes darted down to admire the stark contrast of her hand against his own, dark lashes lowered dreamily as she leaned forward without warning. The soft counters of her dark rouged lips pressed to his own, parting against his as she massaged the pillowy pedals against his pale lips in a brief tender kiss. The sheer madness of the action seemed to harp on the confines of her mind, though for the moment she kept them at bay, as her hand squeezed his own faintly and her lips moved against his.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>25-05-2014, 15:14:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The whole of this seemed off for him, but he had no idea why. His heart was pounding as she stared into his eyes, not having felt it beat so fast since his transformation those many years ago.And now, she lowered her gaze from his face and down to their hands, he couldn't help by follow it. The way that her copper skin, so earthen in tone that seemed as if she could have risen from the ground of clay and started walking the same day, compared to his own skin, pale as the moonlight that he was forced to walk within, was startling. How could people have such varied skins? He questioned internally, mainly as a way to try and distract himself from her touching and her gaze. Admittedly, he wasn't even thinking on whether her actions were improper or not. It was actually oddly welcomed.<br><br>Reginald, slowly, went up, about to speak, however, she had come upon him. He let out a gasp, at first worried as she descended upon him, but did not find her as hostile, but quite the opposite. Rather than a weapon, rather natural or manufactured, coming down upon his form, it was her lips. The dark lips, set up with the make-up had come to his and only now would he have realized hos soft, how tender they were. And he enjoyed it. Though she did seem to pull back, causing him to immediately start panting out, his cheek a deeper red as he felt the woman's hand squeeze at his own.<br><br>"M-Mary..." He managed to heave out, as his eyes came up to look at her eyes, his mouth slightly opened, as he took some breaths, "I..." He wasn't even sure about what to say. He didn't want to insult her and shout, or recoil. It wasn't a bad thing, at least it didn't feel bad to him, to the contrary, it was pleasant. But so spontaneous and... they were restricted to the train, or he was at least. Was this her way to comfort him? Was this something her people did? Or... was there something else? He couldn't help, though, but keep his eyes on her, his gaze unbreaking.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>30-05-2014, 00:04:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She felt his sharp intake of breath, betraying his surprise and surprisingly timid nature, though she supposed a large part of it was due to his fearful anxiety over his nature being known. The kiss was nice, a little cold, but given his prognosis, that wasn't unexpected. With a soft sigh, she released his lips and drew back. The dark color on her lips seemed in relatively good order, and had left little, to no, residue on his lips from her brief indiscretion. The rapidness of his shallow breaths alerted her to his discomfort and she felt a sharp pang of embarrassment, her dark eyes averted downward towards her hands, neatly folded, in her lap. As much a she wished to, blame the sudden forward action on her casual indulgence of strong liquor earlier in their passage, she couldn't say she hadn't been thinking clearly when she'd decided to kiss him. Her internalized guilt worked itself up into a frenzy, as he seemed to be grasping for his words through his heavy breaths, and finally she interjected.<br><br>"You don't have to say anything, I understand. I'm sorry, I ought not have given into my impulses like that…"<br><br>The words unfolded quite astutely from her lips, as if she'd slipped in her manners rather than full on broken every code of polite conduct and kissed a stranger, a very strange stranger. Prudently she angled herself away from him, her legs uncrossed and recrossed away from him, beneath the shimmering silk of her gown, as she assumed her formerly regimented posture. As easy as it would have been to hide her embarrassment, beneath the semi sheer confines of her veil, she didn't replace the obstructive fabric over her face. In her peripheral she could tell he was blushing, a curious effect on his pale person which she assumed didn't impart any particular enamoring on his part, rather just an effect of his embarrassment for her. Slowly she inhaled and exhaled, her fingers fidgeted anxiously, tapping against her bent knee. <br><br>"I could go, if you want."<br><br>She told herself she'd do it, but in truth she'd have to see him through on the ground of principal but she'd be able to do it from afar, if it meant an end to this awkward silence between them. Her dark other half would be back, without fail, and then the matter of his precarious state, between life and death, would have to be dealt with. But at the moment, her own dark blush upon her cheeks, she was more concerned with the residual intimacy fostered between them because of her short sighted impulse. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>31-05-2014, 06:56:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I... N-No..." The pale man said, shaking his head in response to the woman's words, "I... just.. It just surprised me!" He proclaimed, sounding a bit more excitable than he was really feeling. It was clearly the nervousness he felt from the little action she had performed, and in such a way that none would be the wiser if they were to both walk out. Except maybe the way they'd have avoided each other's gaze from shame or embarrassment of the situation that occurred. He wasn't even really sure of what he was supposed to do or say. The last time anyone had take to him so fondly was back before the whole situation of the curse, and definitely not from a woman as this, with proper clothes, though, as some may say, improper skin.<br><br>Reginald's eyes shifted to the side, his cheeks brighter in red at the awkwardness of the situation. He was so unsure of what to do. Would this be considered good? For either of them? He hadn't minded, the woman was surprisingly beautiful for what she was. Maybe it was the way she held herself? But then he pushed that away, after all, she had been so casual, drinking here with him in a way some might have considered low-brow as they sat opposite each other. Maybe she felt that way because he knew her little secret and she knew his and she felt the connection from that? It made sense, of course, but then it was also a bit... dangerous. Or it seemed like such, as if either was discovered for what they were some lynchings could occur.<br><br>Then she said she could go. And this caused the englishman to snap his head up, immediately, from his thought and he stood. "No!" He shouted, in fright before calming. He cleared his throat, sitting back down, straightening his coat as he spoke again, "No... I... I don't want that..." He not sure what he was implying with that phrasing. Was it just he wanted her to stay? Or... maybe see how much further she might take thing? And that was when he noticed it. Her own dark cheeks had gotten darker. Was she blushing? It wasn't as noticeable as himself, with the redness such a stark contrast to his paled skin. His hand came up, almost as if he was in a lucid dream, to lightly let his knuckles stroking at her cheek, if she would let him, to feel the warmth coming from it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>04-06-2014, 02:08:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was kind of him to make excuses for her but she knew what she'd done had alarmed him, and with good reason. She shifted in her seat, her skirts rustling as she gathered herself together enough to make a polite exit, rising to her feet.&nbsp; Visibly she'd stiffened when he shot to his feet, posing an imposing figure over her relatively slight form, ad least a head taller than her even without his hat. Instinctually she shifted back, despite his exclamation in the negative which she took as meaning he wanted her to stay, ad if poised to run. Her suspicions of his sudden out burst, were that his heated emotions were due in large part to his perceived risk of discovery if she should leave. She would after all, effectively, be taking his secret with her to the general populace. For all he knew of her intentions towards him, her apparent acceptance of him could have been a front and the kiss a ruse to excuse herself.<br><br>She shifted, instinctually she'd taken a step back towards the door, he had startled her after all, with his sudden movement. In spite of her wounded pride, she settled herself back in her seat beside him and patted out the perceived creased wrinkles in the shiny fabric of her skirt, the mirror of his own actions, straightening his suit coat. The awkwardness of it all, choking the air around them, was made much more stagnate by his words of indecision on why she ought not go. Finally she just couldn't take it anymore, they were both trying to recede back into their polite visages and it was failing miserably, so she just laughed softly. Her mild amusement,&nbsp; little more than a breath of laughter hitched in her throat at his touch. The brush of his icy hand across her cheek, warm with her embarrassment caught her off guard. Slowly she turned to face him in her seat, one slender brow arched as wordless confusion passed over her dusky features. At his touch her breath came in measurably faster and more shallow breaths. Her chest rising and falling rapidly, straining against the tight confines of her dress bodice and the corset beneath.&nbsp; She seemed to be stricken mute by the subtle sweetness of his stroking touch, and tentatively she closed her eyes, allowing her head to lull to the side against his touch, consequently exposing the slight golden line of her throat.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>06-06-2014, 07:33:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The man just kept his eyes to her as Mary had seemed to get up to leave, moving towards the door, only to stop. And yet, she came back, settling herself down upon the seat across from him. He couldn't help but give a smile once she seemed to calm down. Or, at least, he thought she calmed down. Then again it was still quite awkward due to the whole thing that happened, at most, a minute from this very moment. But when he did touch at her cheek, she seemed to have been quite confused, or at least embarrassed, which seemed off. She was the one that kissed him, first. Now, though, here she was. Breathing out heavily, making him question if he did the right thing. His hand went to pull back, yet he halted it as her head tilted, and cheek seemed to press into that hand of his. <br><br>His eyes trailed along her features, allowing his mouth to gape slightly as his brow furrowed. He wasn't really sure how he should react in this situation.&nbsp; The way that her cheek seemed to be cradled in his hand. The curious contrast the two had in tone of skin. The way her face curved down to her neck, showing off the veins just barely visible from the collar of her dress. He felt his own heart lightly beating at the visible. It had been days since he had feasted and the way this woman was so young, vibrant, attractive. He couldn't help but breathing out heavily as his mind wandered to the possibility of some fresh blood. It felt... like a calling. He closed his eyes though, turning his attention to the side, and attempting to block such thoughts out.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>crosswordaholic</strong> on <strong>10-06-2014, 03:01:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The coolness of his palm, as he cupped the dusky curve of Mary (http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2011/140/5/8/58b931aba546bbc37c6ceedd5dc689e7-d3gsqjn.jpg)'s cheek, had been startling, in its unnaturalness, at first. Slowly she'd acclimated to the strangeness of his peculiar condition, the contort of another's touch, especially as tender and nonabrasive as this, was almost entirely foreign to her. Her eyes, closed from the moment she'd given into the impulsiveness of the moment, opened to behold him turning his face away. She didn't immediately withdraw, or move from his touch, as he apparently withdrew from their fledging intimacy, his eye resolutely closed. He didn't withdraw his hand, which would have been an easy way of defusing the situation if he felt uneasy with the growing tension between them. Instead he'd merely turned his face, a half hearted gesture at best, to remain aloof in the face of her clear enamorment. This would have been the time for her to gage her own feelings, to weigh the many cons to approaching a subject such as himself with such a personal agenda. The clear wrongs of what she was doing were evident to her, and she did consider them, they'd just been found wanting for the conviction of her heated impulses.<br><br>She moved forward, scooting closer to him, until she was so close that the ruffled hem of her gown (http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs27/f/2009/248/7/e/7ece0ad11268278ea71c9978806b6188.jpg) swept across the toes of his boots and her thigh, through the silk of her gown, pressed into the side of his pant leg. Maybe it was the weeks she'd spent in Boston that made her feel the need to be wild, brash even in her decisions. The prudish and utterly controlled environment of the east coast had her wound so tight, she'd been bound to spring sooner or later. They were heading out west after all, the morals and orders of conduct which were the homage of 'modern society', would not be coming with them off the train. They were so close now, her face inches from his own, she could smell the scent of smoke upon his coat collar and see the faint reddish tinge, reflected in the darkness of his brown eyes. His subtle ominous coloring, with really should have been a deterrent, only urged her on. In a mirror of his own act, her hand rose to his cheek, her fingers fanned against the curve of his cool cheek. She let her thumb, for a moment, absently stroke over the fineness of his cheek bone as she gathered the courage for what came next. The press of her lips to his was tender and slow. The dark pedals of her lips parted and conformed, to knead the coolness of his lips into response as he fingers clutched to his cheek.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Old world meets new.</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Quinz128</strong> on <strong>11-06-2014, 23:14:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Due to Reginald having looked away to keep the temptation away, he did not notice with Mary's hand coming up. Only did she touch him, did his eyes open, feeling a slight bit of confusion until he turned to look to the woman who had moved herself closer to him. And for just a moment, he felt that nervousness go away, feeling rather calm as it seemed she had come closer to him. The closeness even allowed him to smell the alcohol that lingered upon her breath from the contents of the flash that she had drank from earlier. Though it was still strong, mixed with her own scent, it did not seem all that bad, pleasant even. This did cause him to shiver, though as she stroked at his cheek with her thumb. Even then, with all these signs, when she pushed forwards again, it came as a surprise. With the touch of those full, dark lips pressing to him, apparently with more conviction than before, even having her fingers curled around his cheek, cupping it, as he saw, a bit forcibly.<br><br>While she kissed him, his hand moved down from her cheek and trailed along her neck and down to her shoulder. His fingers curled around her shoulder, feeling a chill come over him. He didn't back up, though. He didn't break the kiss, instead he kept with it, rather enjoying the connection. It was so queer to him, though, having not felt a legitimate embrace for many years. The kiss continued for a few, long, seconds until Reginald moved to pull back. His eyes opened, staring forwards, looking over her dark, rounded face, that hand upon her shoulder clenching and releasing in a type of weak massage to her, trying to consider, exactly, what was happening. Or where it should go. He was growing more concerned. They were stuck in the train, or at least he was, and he successfully halted her from leaving the cubby here and the next thing he knew she was kissing him. And he was enjoying it. What would she expect of him? Would they go further? Would that appropriate? Should he even care?<br><br>These thoughts swam within his head as he stared to her with half-lidded eyes. Only breaking from the look to the window before he asked, "You do not think they will be bothering us, do you?" in a subtle hint of the desire for privacy and what might occur if they felt secure enough. For the kissing had made him feel... something, at least. She was already noted as attractive in his mind, and now, it was practically guaranteed that she thought the same of him. And she did seem to offer to help him, so perhaps if something came about in this car, then it would not be a final departing opinion, but something that they would be able to share more constantly.
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>