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Post by Abigail Cross on Dec 3, 2009 6:36:15 GMT -5
As the horizon grew black, drifting softly from light to dark, a figure appeared on the town's outer limits. A chestnut colored Quarter Horse carried a blonde beauty dressed in black pants with a white blouse and black vest on her torso. Black boots dressed her feet and she had a cowboy hat on. Her long blonde hair was down straight over her shoulders. A few eyes landed on her with curiosity and judgement. She tied her horse up next to the saloon and walked towards the opening doors.
A few men snickered at her as she approached the doors. A rough-looking man with a dark tan and scruff around his face spoke with a deep, southern accent. "Who d'ya think ya are, darlin', walkin' up in this town in men's clothin'?" She grinned at him and tipped her hat.
"I believe my name is Abigail and I believe you're wastin' my time, sir. Now, you can choose one of two options. You can either scatter off and go play with ya lil' buddies there and leave me be or I can just call in a few favors from my dear Injun friends." This usually stopped people in their tracks. Many feared the indians. And honestly, Abby didn't know any indians. It was all a fear technique she was using to get out of a fight. After all, why cause a scene?
"Why, you little whore! I. . . I, this won't be the last you hear o' me, you got that?" The man then smiled and opened the door with one arm for her and she glided in as he growled and started backtalking to his gang.
Abby walked to the bar and sat beside someone she did not know, nonchalantly. The bartender smiled and asked what she'd like. "I'm hankerin' for some strawberry wine, sir." She said and he went off to get the drink for her. She heard a voice and turned to see who it was and what they were saying to whom.
[open to anyone.]
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Post by Shane Lawson on Dec 4, 2009 19:03:49 GMT -5
And that was when someone interjected their own opinion into the matter. "Boys.. Boys.. That's no way to talk to a lady of any ilk." Marshal Sullivan's voice calm and collected as always, and none dared to challenge the Grey haired Marshal for all spoke in whispers of the deals he cut with Masters and his cowboys. If they'd been Masters men? Well, He probably would've have said a damn thing but these guys were just typical rift-raft that populated the underbelly of the town. And with little more then a glare they departed the saloon. "Ah, Order is restored." The sarcasm in his voice was more then obvious, as he took a sip from his drink before turning to the young woman. "Word of advice though.." He started, "I wouldn't go around tellin' people you're a indian lover, might get your throat slit and honestly? Wouldn't have much sympathy for you.."Sullivan had no love for Indians, which was an understatement. "I don't have no love, nor do the miners." Bands of Indians were a problem for the mining companys in the hills, though most Indians had given into living on reservations, there were still violent bands of renegades who wished to stick it to the white man.
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Post by Abigail Cross on Dec 5, 2009 15:21:39 GMT -5
Just by looking at the man, she could tell he was something of authority. His stern face showed experience and his voice showed assertiveness. The men who'd bothered her earlier were ordered away and obeyed him. Aww, how kind. She thought, grinning. The bartender brought her drink back and she nodded to him, swishing it around and then taking a drink.
And as he talked, she smiled, slyly. "Just because I said it doesn't mean it's true." She said, without looking at him, and taking a sip from her drink. "In all honesty, people can say quite a few things to get them outta trouble." And without a doubt, she was one of those people. A thief and a liar. Nothing to be proud of, but she enjoyed the life of an outlaw. "And I really wouldn't wanna cause any trouble, Sir." A slight giggle came from her mouth.
"I don't think anybody does." She replied at his statement about having no love for the indians. "With good reason too. I've ran into my fair share of injuns with eyes set to kill." It was true. The little feisty devils had tried to shoot at her! Needless to say, she escaped, but not without a few marks to show for it.
"But enough about them. What brings you out today?" She asked, nonchalantly, and positioned her arm on the countertop.
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Post by Shane Lawson on Dec 10, 2009 0:56:13 GMT -5
"Maybe, Maybe not." Sullivan responded, "I'm just saying its not wise to say such things." The Marshal gave her a suspicious eye, there weren't many women in town that knocked drinks back like this girl or wore the clothes that she did. Typically the ones who fit this bill? Trouble. She was definitely someone he'd have to keep an eye on, like everyone else in town.
Bill chuckled a bit. "What brings me out? Ah, Just keeping an eye on the town, nothing more, nothing less." A crooked smile twisted his features before he introduced himself. "Marshal Bill Sullivan."
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