As Dusk Approaches...

[Moridanu]

(( Here lies the beginning of the plot... the setting is the Deepdweller Brothel. A large bar fills most of the bottom floor of the saloon style bar, where beautiful ladies are strategically placed for mens amusement. The establishment is run by Madame Tamasa who watches over all with a keen gaze. Those fortunate enough to be able to afford one of her ladies, are serviced in the lavish rooms located upstairs. ))

Enjoy... ;D

[dakkon]

*A roaring gasp of wind raced into the tavern as the saloon gates opened to admit two slight looking figures, both cast in silhouette by the setting sun.*Y'don't unnerstand. I grew up alongside Bill. I mean sure things turned sour but I didn't mean for ...for that to happen to him*Kinde patted his talkative companion on the shoulder, his calm a stark contrast to the other who looked like he was about to throw up all over his nice banker's suit*If its botherin you so much, then go upstairs and see if the local company can help you forget. Sides, Bill was a good man, too good to be remembered by a piece of trash like you.*With that he lets the saloon door shut, closing out the howling night. Forgetting his employer by the door Kinde walks over to take a look at the local wares standing by the bar*

[Moridanu]

*As a handful of punters rolled in through the swinging Saloon style doors, Madame Tamassa cast a quick glance down the bar towards where her number one girl was draped over a plush velvet chaise lounge. Samiha felt her Madame’s gaze upon her and returned it with a dip of her thick velvet lashes. Her ample bosom was barely contained by the tight crimson corset she wore above a lush crimson skirt of folded taffeta. Peeking beneath hooded lashes, a faint smile of satisfaction crept to her dark lips as one of her regulars ambled over to her, a pint already in his plump hand. Soon she was draped over his lap, and as Madame Tamassa watched on, she began to cover his neck with hot little kisses. Soon those kisses would become little bites, and she might taste him – just a little though. Madame had her rules.

Madame Tamassa’s attention was diverted by the arrival of a man. She recognised him from his previous visits as a somewhat regular, though to the best of her knowledge he had only ever had “just a drink.” Running a hand through her thick long dark hair, Tamassa blessed him with a rare smile as he approached the bar.

~Good eve to you sir and welcome. How can I whet your appetite on this glorious evening?~ Although she had a barkeep that she kept around for appearances and the odd occasion she couldn’t handle the men on her own, Tamassa decided that this particular stranger would receive her own personal attention. At least for now.

The setting sun outside shone through the thick dirty windows with an almost rosy glow, giving Marigolds skin the appearance of being slightly on fire as she sidled up to the strangers friend and tried to tempt him upstairs. The other girls were equally busy, and Madame Tamassa smiled at the scene before her. Buisness was booming. *

[dakkon]

Just a pint of Miner's Breakfast, Tammy is it?*He was pretty sure this was Madame Tamassa, aka Tammy to those what didn't care to live much longer. Some of the more boisterous clients might get rough in the saloon, even slap each other around, but wasn't a soul, lawman or cutthroat, that would cross the Madame. Well, no local cutthroat would anyway.*

*Seeing his recent employer starting to be coaxed upstairs he turns an eye to the proprietress*Make sure your girls don't get too rough with that one. I still need his hands to sign over my bank note in the morning. *The words came out cold and smooth, only stuttering a small piece. Kinde knew he still wasn't well known, and he already figured out his usual tricks didn't work with the girls at this particular saloon for whatever quirk of fate. So that just left him with his wit and his looks, neither his strong suite*

[Moridanu]

*Madame Tamassa’s smile froze on her face as this witless fool before her made the mistake of calling her Tammy.

~The name is Tamassa, “Madame” Tamasa.. and you best not be forgetting that pilgrim..~ she snarled as she slid his requested drink across the bar to him. Following his gaze to see Marigold had now managed to coax his friend up the stairs, she waited for the blonde to meet her gaze before she shook her head once slightly. This stranger had told her he needed the man to sign over his bank note, meaning only one thing – he was a banker, NOT a drifter, and therefore NOT fair game.

Madame Tamassa grinned inwardly as she could almost hear Marigolds groan from here. Shrugging her shoulders, she turned her attention back to the stranger.

~Since you did such a good job at massacring my name, stranger, how about you tell me yours?~ *

[The Drifter]

The gate creaked when The Drifter swung it open. The Drifter despised creaky noises. the squeal of rusted metal on rusted metal reminded him of unnatural things, that go bump in the night and tap on your window as you prepare for bed. Things that people would say were all in your head.

Suddenly, a tumbleweed bounced and rolled down the street, cracking and bristling all the way. It didn't scare him, in fact, it barely got a surprise out of him. This was just another of those western towns with their western cliches and other such trivialties. He wouldn't be staying long.

The Drifter made his way toward a nearby tavern, that echoed with the sound of voices and the ring of loud music. When he got inside, he was treated to the horrific aroma of too many perfumes in too small a space. Sittig down at the bar, the Drifter sat down with a rough thud, and waited for someone to take notice of him, and ask what he wanted. [/b][/font][/color]

[dakkon]

My apologies, Miss Tamassa. To your health*With a small appreciative nod to her he takes up the highly caffeinated drink and puts it to his lips. A sidelong glance back to his employer causes him to miss Tamassa's signal to Marigold and when he turns back he still appears on edge*

Its Kinde, Madame. Or Mister Kinde if you want to get all proper. Just in town for some small jobs I heard tell about. I wasn't planning on staying long neither but now, well, it seems steady jobs are just opening up left and right,*He leans a little closer to the Madame, his voice mischievously low* what with ol deputy William passing this very night and the sheriff week before last. *Leaning back on his stool in a content manner, his fingers wrap around the warm mug. Craning his neck toward the now empty stairs he looks for some sign that his employer isn't upstairs being torn to shreds. Distracted, he carelessly lets slip a bit of town gossip people usually have sense not to bring up here* Very strange deaths theirs, but then again word is this place has seen its own share of those eh?

[Moridanu]

*His response thawed out her own icy countenance. Reaching out a slender hand, draped in jewels and tipped with long nails painted a brilliant shade of plum, Tamassa offers to shake his hand in greeting.

~A pleasure to meet you Mister Kinde.~ her ears pricking as she hears him tell he is only in town to do some odd jobs here and there. He clearly has no kin nearby, and therefore noone to miss him should he not return. Suddenly, this stranger appears a lot more interesting.

She blinked at him innocently as he spoke of the deaths of the Sheriff and his deputy. She knew about the Sheriffs’ death, hell she feared that one of her own girls might even be responsible, but news of Bill’s death brought genuine surprise to her otherwise flawless features.

~Bill? The deputy? Are you sure? I only saw him last night.. he was the picture of good health..~ And rather tasty she thought to herself. Billy had been a regular of hers for months now, and he rather enjoyed her sucking from an open wound on his wrist. During the day he had kept it wrapped and hidden from view by a binding of leather, but at night it was hers to taste. She would miss the old bastard, that was for sure.

As he leant forward and mentioned the curious deaths that seemed to happen around here, Tamassa merely shrugged and arched a slender dark brow.

~I have no idea what you mean Mister Kinde. I run a respectable establishment here.. it just seems to be a strange town. Especially at this time of night..~

She looked up as another man sat down at the bar. Sniffing the air, she was delighted to smell the stench of a drifter upon him. Glancing down the bar, she drew Samiha’s gaze and motioned towards the drifter with a slight tilt of her dark head. Samiha smiled and slowly crawled off the fat mans lap like a cat rising from a nap. The fat man slurred a protest, but she placed a long finger against his lips and whispered something in his ear before she slid down the bar towards the drifter. Arriving quickly by his side, Samiha flashed him her best smile.

~Evening sir… can I be getting you a drink?~ she drawled.*

[dakkon]

Quite sure, yes.*Stumbling he tries to correct his story before it wanders closer to the truth* the banker, he was telling me about it on the way, having come directly from talking to Bills family. I was sad to ... hear, that Bill had passed on too, we were becoming fast friends before the end. He was a noble sort, oh he had his vices to be sure, but what man doesn't in this town.

*Kinde shifts uncomfortably on his stool, his hand reaching up to message his temples as the headache that had been building ever since he entered hits him. After all the time he had spent relying on his talent, to be in the presence of one so untouchable as the Madame, no a room darn near full of untouchables, for any period of time was physically painful. 'Our best talents form an addiction. If we don't use them then it should hurt us, that is how we learn to accept them, my little kindness' his old schoolmarms words shot through the pain, only intensifying it.* Ugh, what do you put in that swill you pass off as a miners breakfast. Don't think I'll be making it back to my camp tonight, you know bout any boarding rooms this side of the mine tunnels Madame?

[thisone]

*The sun was quickly dipping lower on the horizon as another faint image came into view. Drawing closer to the town in the distanced, the figure on the white-and-gray stallion continued an easy trot.*

-So, Lulu, any idea if this place is any better than the last little oasis you found us?- *The horse huffed a bit a the man's response, the easy-going smile on the scruffy face not fading with his partner's rudeness.* -What? My fault? How is it my fault?- *Another huff* -Yes, Ok, I may have been caught with the mayor's daughter. And yes, I did tell the man how his daughter was in bed, but honestly!? He asked what I thought of her!! He shouldn't have asked the question if he didn't want to know the answer!- *Once again, the horse huffed loudly to her rider* -Hey, don't you be giving me no lip, Missy, or I'll have you gluing my boots faster than you can say "Squirrel Taco"!!- *Another Huff* -I don't know what a Taco is, I just thought it was a funny word I just made up. Like it?- *The overly-expressive horse shook her head, huffing profusely.* -Yeah, yeah, everybody's a critic.-

*By this point, the pair had finally made it into the town, and were now on their way to finding a nice place to get a drink. Seeing what looked to be a rather respectable whore house, the man dismounted and tied his partner to a nearby post. He then made his way into the saloon, his stirrups clicking as he went, and upon entering through the swinging doors he took his hat into his hand, believing that he may have just found heaven again.*

[steven]

'Ex-soldiers are a common sight out in the middle of nowhere, in random towns scattered all across the wild country. Some are scarred. Some are poor. Some are wealthy officers who ran from duty. All have differant stories. This one is no differant.'

'Medium height, only 5'10", and weighing around a hundred and ninety pounds, his boots are well worn, the heels rolled from wear. Jeans, ragged and beaten, threadbare but at least lacking holes. A leather belt that once was thick, strong and well made, no ratty and battered, with a revolver hanging from it and then buckled once around his thigh. A black t-shirt, again threadbare but functional, with a lightweight leather jacket over it, one strap of a shoulder holster that slings beneath his left arm visible under the jacket. His hair is black, cut short, or it used to be, now a little ragged. One can tell by looking he usually kept himself clean shaven, but now a clutter of stubble mars him. His eyes though, are green, an emerald green, the right one deep and enticing, while the other seems... flat, in it's color, unnatural.'

'He trudges into town and heads straight for the bar, his lips clearly chapped from thirst, and with the local brothel being the first place that even looks like it has drinks, he stumbles his way in and slides right up to a stool, pointing at the first drinkable bottle he sees.'

[Moridanu]

*Madame Tamassa’s indigo hued orbs, clouded over as she stared off into the distance, her mind temporarily drifting back to her most recent time with Bill, while Mr. Kinde spoke of his passing acquaintance with him. He had been a fine man, and despite everything, even the core of her somewhat sinister heart, Tamassa would miss him. As Mr. Kinde spoke of his “vices”, a secret smile crossed her lips as she was slowly brought back to the present.

~Yes, he was a fine and noble man. One who was a dear friend.. I shall miss him greatly.~ She looked up to see Marigold escorting the banker down the long balcony towards one of the “real rooms.” These rooms were where real clients were taken to be serviced, and the expression on Marigolds face was so priceless, Tamassa couldn’t help but chuckle.

She smiled as Mr. Kinde groaned in reference to his drink and asked what she had put in it. She merely continued to smile at him innocently, though of course she had added an extra little something that would make it difficult for him to return to his normal bed this evening. All her customers received this little bonus in their drinks. For some it just meant they woke up a little woozy in their beds the next morning, but for others it meant they would never wake up at all.

As he asked her about any boarding rooms, she gestured upstairs.

~We have many rooms to make you comfortable here this eve, Mister Kinde. You are most welcome to take your pick of any of them. I can even arrange for someone to er… ~ she lowered her lashes and voice in an attempt at discretion. ~ Turn down your bed for you if you like? And if the price is right, she may even join you in it?~

Just as she finished speaking, two new men arrived within minutes of each other. One seemed to be stuck just inside the door, his hat in his hand as he gazed about in wonder. Lisette gave him the once over before she wandered over to him and offered to make him feel more comfortable in a comfy little booth in the back of the parlour. The other man walked straight to the bar and pointed to the nearest drink.

~Certainly sir..~ she grabbed the bottle and made a big production out of uncorking it while she reached beneath the bar for a special glass. Of course all of these glasses had already been laced with her special ingredient, so by the time the glass was full of the sparkling dark liquid, it was already a prime weapon in her hands. Eying the mans worn attire though, Tamassa held onto the glass as she said

~Three dollars sir.. money up front.~

She glanced over at Mister Kinde. He hadn’t paid her for his drink yet, though she intended to take what was owed to her in other ways. *

[Ouranos]

'He looks up at her, grumbling to himself, clearly exhausted after what must have been a very very long walk. He reaches into the right side of his jacket - opposite of the shoulder holster but it moves the jacket enough to make said holster more apperant, and pulls out a five. He drops it on the table and looks back up, still not speaking coherantly, his lip actually split slightly from how very dry it was.'

'Despite his poor appearance, the money he pulls out reveals otherwise. It's in prime condition, vastly less worn then his outfit, indicating that maybe he's just had a run of bad luck on his way out here, and not a lack of funding. Once the drink is set before him he greedily drinks it down, panting heavily afterwards, even coughing as the fluid hits his parched throat. He konks his right hand down on the bartop, but a dull, almost muffled, metallic clank issues from it instead of the thud one would expect from what looks like a flesh-and-blood hand.'

'He motions for her to keep em coming, pulling out a twenty and laying it on the table, licking his lips afew times in anticipation. His "normal" eye loses some of it's glassyness, only sharpening the contrast between it and the other one, the one that just seems... flat, in color.'

[dakkon]

*His signals his distaste for the 'establishment' with a clear snort* Id'trather take my repose in them blasted mines, least there I'd...I'd*Kinde could only babble something even more incoherent before shutting his mouth, dumbfounded at his own sudden inability to remain cogent.

*This wasn't normal withdrawal, something was making it worse and he couldn't even think straight enough to piece together what that might be. Only thing he could keep thinking was that something was very wrong. His face felt flushed red despite the cold and he could tell by his overly relaxed posture that he was far more weary than he had been even minutes ago. His mind was still active enough to realize that he had to get somewhere safe, fast* I gotta, gotta go out, scuse me Madame Tam...tamastha

*Kinde staggers to his feet and turns to go before realizing he hasn't paid for his drink yet. Barely able to remain upright he manages to clumsily dig some coins out of his pocket and slap them on the bar in front of the Madame. Focused on leaving, Kinde doesn't notice the shiny bauble that falls from his pocket onto the seat. Rubbing his eyes to keep out the sleep taking him Kinde does his best to walk out into the cold night air. Once outside the saloon gate he looks about and starts to head off in the general direction of the mine.*

*The item that fell out of his pocket is a small oaken locket. Its plain silver chain pools around it and catches the light playfully. In stylized letters engraved on the memento's lovingly carved surface are the words
To Bill,
One of my favorites
T...
The remainder of the name signed on the locket is obscured by a deep red stain, still glistening wet.*

[thisone]

*The instant that initial awe subsided, the man looked around, noticing a fellow traveler going straight to the bar, what looked like a guy that couldn't hold his liquor to save his life (no pun intended), and a rather busty beauty making her way over to him. She looked tasty enough, nice hips and a bust that was probably enough to make most men drool. Quickly wiping his mouth of the before-mentioned drool, the man smiled and nodded, thanking her for the rather enjoyable welcoming and following her to the stool. And even through all of this eye candy, there was still a strange feeling in the back of this man's mind. It wasn't exactly a tangible feeling, more like that instinctual thing you get, that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, when you look into a dark cave or outside of the campfire light in the middle of the night. That little feeling that comes out when there's something wrong with a place.*

*However, this was also the closest thing to a sexual encounter that this man had in a very, very long time, so he pushed that feeling away and just followed the woman, taking off his worn and tattered riding coat to reveal a simple tan shirt, a pair of worn denim jeans covered mostly by leather beaten brown chaps, and a pair of eight-shot custom revolvers hanging on either hip.*

"Now can I get a couple shots of your best whiskey, Ms.?" he asked, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping the sweat from his brow and chin. He was a rather good-looking guy, all things considered. He has short-cut messy black hair and the slightest hint of a five-o'clock shadow. Leaning back in the booth, he took in his hostess, taking that extra second to let those thoughts one doesn't usually speak aloud form and that slip away. For some reason, when he looked at her, that feeling in the back of his mind started kicking in again. Maybe this particular girl was trouble, and hopefully the kind that "loves" you before she kills you, but that idea faded when the man looked around and felt the same thing from every woman he saw. He didn't really understand, but something about this place just smelt wrong. He then looked over and noticed the small bit of a commotion that the man at the bar was making, stumbling back and making a hasty retreat after paying his tab and leaving behind a memento of some kind. Then again, panicking drunks were hardly a rarity, so the man didn't think much on it.