beautiful, aren't they?

[equosettela-blog]

SIXSHOOTING

his actions answer that question easily enough: bishop pilfers the last half-full bottle of booze on the table and takes a quick swig as he heads to a new one. he’ll be fine ( bishop would do something if there were any real risk, and not just because of his samaritan reflex ) but maybe not so appreciative of his choices whenever he wakes up. 

      ‘ he wanted to celebrate some kinda thing. never seen him before in my life. ’ it was his first bounty or something. bishop had just wanted a drink and they were going free. ‘ doubt he’ll remember me even if i meet him again. –you not recognise him either? seemed the type who might be a regular. ’ 

           Meant to look into hosts who weren’t having a good time but were conscious, Alice had little hesitation in slipping away and leaving the figure at their back.  She wasn’t meant to be matronly, wasn’t meant to rouse the man to his feet and shoulder him to a comfortable bed.  If he’d been sulking in a corner and letting worried eyes wander the room, she’d have sauntered toward him and pulled him into the fun.  As it seemed any guest within the saloon was having exactly the sort of night they were meant to have, Alice was left to practice.

           A quick gaze shot the way of the man, now few enough tables away, and she narrowed her eyes before shrugging.  “Must be one of the newcomers who can’t hold his liquor.”  She pressed her lips together in a smile and turned her attention back toward Bishop.  Reaching out, she plucked the bottle from his hold and took a drink for herself before placing it back in front of his hand.

           “I guess he celebrated.  He’ll learn his lesson come morning.”  She didn’t sound particularly worried.  Wasn’t her first drunk, wouldn’t be the last.  Her gaze stopped on Bishop and one brow lifted.  “You’re not dumb enough to get in the same mess he is, are you?”

[equosettela-blog]

JOHN WHITE

               Nothingness. Nothingness as no man or woman alive can know it.

               “Bring yourself back online.”

               He breathed. He breathed hard. A vein bounced beneath the skin on his temple and his wide hands coiled into rock-hard fists that sat on his bare knees. His eyes were cold as the chair he sat in and drilled a hole through Rashid’s head.

               “I couldn’t-” He sat up and pressed his lips tight. Both eyes rolled as he seemed to search for the words before they clicked into place. Frustration dripped from him. “I can’t be around her. She’s around me and something-” He blinked; John twitched.

               “Something… I can’t do more.” A calm took over in the form of defeat. John hung his head, then looked at Rashid, like he was confessing his heart to a man he trusted, a man he somehow k n e w. “I want to do more.”

           They’d told him to fix whatever piece of John’s narrative loop was setting him off.  The moment John spoke and Rashid looked into his face of anguish, he knew.  Security likely would assume Rashid would write the saloon girl from the deputy’s desires entirely and come up with a safer solution to keep him around the Mariposa.  But Rashid, too wrapped up in what small glimmers of happiness he tried to put within the hosts, knew he couldn’t do it.  Wouldn’t do it.

           “Alright, John.”  Rashid said calmly, knowing to venture any further into this could mean trouble.  His smart tongue could talk himself out of it and had in the past, but he knew security regarded him with little respect.  Even his coworkers within narrative often shared curious, lingering glances his way.  No one knew him, but everyone knew he appeared a little too… invested in the stories for each individual host shuffled his way.

           “Tell me what you’d like to do.”  Rashid said, sitting down on the stool and pushing his converse-clad feet to draw himself up across from the deputy.  “I can write it in for you.”  They said to fix it… if this was going to fix it, they couldn’t exactly be mad with him, could they?  “Do you…”  He frowned, glancing briefly down at the readings and code looking back at him.  It wasn’t likely, but he thought he’d ask anyways – at least it’d help him get a reading for what emotion came from asking it.  “Do you want to buy Alice for the night if she has no other clientele?”  Rashid felt the deputy wanted more than just a toss in the sheets and a few bucks thrown her way – what he’d coded into their story wasn’t satisfactory for a nightly fling.

[equosettela-blog]

JOHN WHITE

                He’d had it - s o m e t h i n g - for a fleeting second, and he’d been alive then. Tormented by that which he was never allowed to truly have, but still touching it, John was dangerously human. But just as it’d fallen into his lap on account of a series of events he couldn’t have predicted or prevented, it was cut short. Though she was smiling and pouring him another drink, he could still feel her fingers as if they were still trapped against the rough underside of his calloused hand. John took his time settling back into his usual role of the grump and grumbling, stickler lawman. R E S E T.  R e s e t ?

                “Yeah, you go on and think that. You don’t know what in the blue hell you’re talkin’ about.” Was his bark a little sharper? Did his voice cut a tad deeper than before? Had John ever become so angry that he couldn’t seem to have her, no matter how terribly the desire consumed him? Like there was a wall between them and he wanted the damn thing to break.

               “And my pistol ain’t goin’ no where near you.” John’s eyes landed on her body, looking it up and down as if he were ill-judging it. But he enjoyed to look at her; if only he could let himself do it without seeming like it made his skin crawl. John took up his glass and faced his body toward the bar. Under his breath, “Think she knows- woman on the street- gonna shoot a goddamn gun- what it’s like when-” The words trailed off until they weren’t there at all. Just John, drinking the alcohol he thought he’d pay for.

P A U S E.

There’s something wrong with the Deputy. But he was cleared. Look at these readings.  They aren’t right.  Something’s going on. Can’t we wait until some more guests leave?  It might look suspicious if we just go in and grab him right now. It’s getting worse.  Someone must have overlooked something when they cleared him to go back into rotation. Fine.  Get the girls to take the guests upstairs.  Get him, reset Alice.  She didn’t see the deputy tonight.

          They brought him to Rashid.  Rashid’s brows jerked upward as they walked the deputy into his office, pointed out the readings they’d been picking up, and asked him to look into it.  It was something with his narrative, they said.  Write something different.  Fix whatever piece of his narrative loop which was distracting him.  Then, they left.  Rashid sat across John, whose face was currently slack, and watched as they left.  He didn’t move until their steps had taken them away, until he couldn’t see them through glass walls.

          Sighing in a gentle way, Rashid pushed up from his chair and abandoned the logs of notes on his desk.  He walked around John, flipping open the tablet and pulling up the readings they’d discussed.  A few more swipes of his finger and he was watching the bird’s eye view of John’s last conversation and reading the dialogue.

          “Ah.  Alice.”  Rashid murmured under his breath, smile relaxing over his mouth.  He shot a look toward John and back again.  “I was the one who wrote that, you know, John?  For you to have affection for her.  She’s got a crush on you, too.  The narrative head wouldn’t let me push it any further, but every time you guys interact… well.”  His smile deepened, but it slipped away as he watched what they’d noticed - the sudden bits of code skipping.  The anger.

         “What happened here, John?”  He asked, concern pulling his brow.  He worried at his lip and glanced toward the strong-built figure.  “Bring yourself back online.  Do you know what happened?”

[equosettela-blog]

JOHN WHITE

               Such a sound - the sound of his name slipping off her lips as if it was the only word God made them to say - pacified the tempest of guilt until it was nothing more than an uncomfortable breeze. The hair on his forearm stood on end, her fingers inviting goosebumps to the surface. She was magic. John always knew ladies were: all of them. From the dirty vagabonds to the high-born ones with fresh fruit always on their tables, John was convinced God gave them all something extra. And this one, this one with her hand on his arm and sweet, neglected truths in her mouth… broke down his carefully built walls like they were piles of sand.

               The hard lines of his carefully-sculpted face softened and the darkest part of his eyes held steady on hers. Did he dare? His free hand laid like a thick quilt - heavy but comfortable - over her fingers touching his arm. The words of gratitude didn’t come out right away. He seemed to… skip… trying to find the proper thing to say, and then he blinked and knew.

                “You’re right… but it doesn’t stop me from wishing I could be.” Something in John told him he was floating, that his train of thought was dangerously close to jumping the tracks… Another blink and he removed his hand from the top of hers.

               “Hell, if you ask most people around here, they’d say you and the girls are the real heroes of this place. ‘Course, don’t know how much I agree with that…” Ever the man of the law. He tapped the bar top near the bottle and was slightly grinning - a new gesture to make him… likeable - when he looked up at Alice, a forbidden fruit both in his head and according to those who wrote his story. Just in love enough to keep him tied to her and her to him to keep his emotions from spiraling into something very problematic. Something very real. Never meant to indulge, to know the pleasures of realized love and love in return.

           No touch compared to the warm way John’s hand laid atop hers.  Alice’s blue eyes were drawn to the sight and it took her a moment - even if just a few seconds - to pull her gaze away.  She looked back at his face - his black and white peppered beard, his handsome, prominent nose, his heavy brow and dark, but sometimes warm eyes.  A handsome man, Deputy John White.  There wasn’t a woman in Sweetwater who could say otherwise.  Alice would be among the first to agree, but there’d always be a linger, a pause, something which bespoke more thought than just an admiring fancy.

           She smiled a warm smile, one that held to the playful, mischievous look she’d been immediately programmed to behold.  She moved her hand back - the one his had laid against - but didn’t forget the warmth of his touch.  Alice picked up the bottle, pouring another splash of liquor into her glass and his before giving him a look back.  Her grin hadn’t dimmed in its brilliance.

           “I don’t think it’d be too hard to convince you how much of a hero I am to Sweetwater.”  She teased, confidence holding to not every word she spoke, but to the way she held herself, too.  Alice seemed at ease with who she was, with how she was.  But there was more to her than met the eye... not that anyone would give two glances toward a well-shaped whore and think otherwise.  Very few learned the depths behind Alice.  Very few.

           She raised her brows, giving the holster of his a pointed glance.  “Put your pistol in my hand and I’m certain come Sunday I’d be patrolling these streets with a shiny badge of my own.”

[equosettela-blog]

JOHN WHITE

               “Hmph.” It was all he gave her in return to her sharp quips. John almost always answered her wit and come-ons with grunts of disinterest and dismissal, as if such a minor act would throw her off his scent. He even cast a sideways glare her way when she asked for a top-shelf bottle - like he was someone who needed the free liquor - but was easily distracted by the mention of piss in the drink. The glass pinched between his thumb and index earned a wary stare. If they were truly cheating the people of Sweetwater, he’d find out. Just not right then, not when he could feel the familiar grace of a buzz. At her question, John only cast her a glare. He didn’t deserve a toast.

He’d failed that day; failed to keep every citizen of out of harm’s way. He didn’t even deserve the shit he was drinking, and damn sure not for free. He’d pay for it later.

                 John swallowed it down without a word. The taste settled on his tongue and the rest flowed smoothly down his throat. It was good. Better than good. Fine stuff. But the enjoyment was short lived. The deputy adjusted his position on the bar stool and looked down into his glass. Shame appeared on his face. Just hints of it. Small, tiny, perfectly programmed behaviors he’d performed a hundred times.

               “I was too late at that shootout today. One over by the barber.” The images replayed, too fresh, too real. He winced and, swiftly, he slammed a fist against the bar-top. “Too goddamned late.” The late crowd never stopped to notice. They didn’t care. Maybe Alice didn’t care - why should she? - but he was saying it anyway. If nothing, just to get it out so it would stop eating him up. Maybe she’d absorb the rest of the pain, like she did some of it the moment she was within arm’s reach.

           Alice tipped the glass back and drained what she’d poured, the familiar burn somewhat of a comfort as it crawled down her throat.  But her eyes were on John and she wasn’t smiling, not like she could have been.  Alice didn’t know how many times the pair of them had sat like this, close, not touching, but her absorbed in him and forgetting the rest of the going-ons in the Mariposa.  Alice didn’t know how many times John had come to the bar and sat alone while she was taken upstairs or distracted by her duty to Sweetwater’s newcomers.  To her, this was new.  A first.

           Quietly, she listened to him, watched him.  A frown crossed her brow as his fist slammed the bar-top, but she didn’t worry if any paused to watch.  She felt a heaviness rest over her chest, sinking down into her heart.  Alice could see how it ate away at him, how tense he was.  She wished he’d let her ease it, even if only for a night, and even if half would be for her benefit, too.

           Though anyone would tell her not to do it, Alice reached the small distance between them and rested her hand on his forearm, lying it there gently.  “This place is a shit storm, John.”  She wasn’t sure why she used his first name, as if they were so close.  As if they’d ever be so close.  “You can’t be everywhere at once, and you still got there, didn’t you?  You still saved other people.  You did more than anyone else in this town could say they’d have done.”

[equosettela-blog]

DOLORES ABERNATHY

It was funny the way people seemed to just assume. As far as Dolores was concerned, Teddy was smitten to her and her alone. That wasn’t hard to believe either with the way he spoke to her along with the way he had never glanced at another woman. He was a one woman type of guy and that somewhat made Dolores happy. Part of her was nervous, worried that she wouldn’t be the type of woman he’d adore forever. But part of her couldn’t help but smile to the fact that in the world, she was someone’s one and only. 

“I think I’ll waste my time plenty, Alice.” the smile still beamed on her lips as the wind blew through her hair. “I believe there’s good men and bad men in this world, and I finally gone and found me a good one,” a short blush began to color her cheeks as she ran her fingers through her hair for a moment. “And, I ain’t got much a thing for cowboys theses days. I don’t think they know a single thing about a farm anymore.”

She glanced back at the men walking past. Newcomers, she thought to herself. “Why’d you think all these people are comin’ to Sweetwater nowadays? We ain’t nothin’ special, I reckon.”

           “Speak for yourself,” Alice teased in regards to nothing special being found in Sweetwater.  She winked playfully, but looked back at the faces of the newcomers as they walked through the town, their eyes lighting up with a sort of excitement Alice couldn’t quite grasp.  It wasn’t in her programming to wonder too long or too hard about why they’d be so taken with a simple town like Sweetwater, but there was certain code written in her to understand why someone might be so fascinated with the west.

           Still looking at the faces out there rather than at Dolores, Alice tilted her head and spoke, her voice holding a dreamy, far-off quality like she was too wrapped up in memories to be in the present.  “Maybe they just like the promise of this place.  They can be anyone out here.  They’re free from wherever they’ve come from.”  A moment of quiet passed and Alice blinked, frowning, suddenly all too aware of how much she’d been thinking of her own past.  The past she worked diligently to keep buried.

           “Whose this man you’re so taken with and ready to sit still and wait for?”  Alice diverted the attention back onto Dolores, easy smile overcoming her red-painted lips.  “There isn’t any man worth that kind of attention.  At least, none that I’ve met.”

[haadmycake-blog]

☙ diamonds, brilliant

[equosettela-blog]

JULIETTE

               Little Sparrow. Juliette smiled and scrunched her nose at the name, amused by it.

               “I’m Juliette.” She held out a thin hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Alice.” And it was. It wasn’t always. It almost never was. This time, however, the smile on Juliette’s mouth was genuine.

                “So, since you’re so knowledgeable-” Which it certainly seemed Alice did. “-what kind of… activities would you recommend for someone like me?” Logan likely had his own ideas but maybe, maybe just this once, she could brave an adventure of her own.

           Juliette.  Alice smiled a sweet smile not many guests earned or deserved.  She took the girls hand and gave it a shake.  “It’s nice to meet you too, Juliette.”  Not many ladies would say such a thing to a saloon worker, at least, not ladies of good breeding as Alice thought Juliette must be.  It took one to know one, didn’t it?  Alice felt a slight sting in her chest, pulling memories ( or what she thought of as her memories ) she often worked diligently to suppress.  It was good, then, Juliette came up with a distraction; a distraction Alice was perfect for.

           “Hmm,” she mused gently, looping her arm into Juliette’s and taking her from the entrance of the Mariposa, walking along the wood plank walkway outside.  She paused where they could look down the road of Sweetwater, the opposite direction of the train station, where the world as Alice believed it to be awaited.  “I think you need to see the world.  Experience it.  Meet people and learn their stories.  Through them, you’ll learn things about yourself.  Find a guide, someone to take you to far away places.”  Alice smiled and her familiar, characteristically playful attitude was spoken for in the way her lips tilted upward, pushing into her cheeks.  “Maybe you’ll meet a handsome cowboy or pretty little farm girl who’ll give you some other kind of fun.”

[equosettela-blog]

JOHN WHITE

               John rolled his eyes and continued the charade. No doubt, this likely short interaction between them would weigh heavy on his mind and rankle him for days, but he knew in that moment, he wasn’t lonely anymore.

               “Charming,” he echoed (a habit of his). She was staring at him and he didn’t know what else to do. Alice never looked at him that way before (or so he believed), and it made his stomach clench.

               “Well…” His eyes flicked from her eyes to those red, red lips, and back again.

                “Fine, but I aint gonna buy anything from you if that what you thinks gonna happen.” He knew she wasn’t selling him the goods like she sometimes sold to others - even thinking about it made his heart slowly sink; John believed in full that she only meant to torment him. So he tossed his insults and his unkind words at her, hoping to do away with the temptation she was, and the cruel relief she came with. Just being around her calmed a storm inside him, but he swore it wasn’t healthy, that what she did for him wasn’t what he did for her. He ought not to enjoy it, but again, he wasn’t reaching out to shove her away.

           “What a shame.”  Alice murmured, gaze shamelessly draping down his very fit figure.  A mischievous tilt held her grin, but Alice didn’t stay in the obviously implied moment for long, fearing stretching it out too far might make the deputy lose interest altogether and leave.  She winked and turned, looking at the familiar face of the bartender and raising her brows in an expectant expression.  “A bottle of rye whiskey, and not the cheap stuff you mix with piss in the back.  My guest is too valuable a man to Sweetwater for you to be cheating out of the good stuff.”

           The bartender gave Alice a long, quiet look, but his eyes jumped to the deputy and with a grimace ( clearly wanting to say what unpleasant thoughts were on his mind ), he turned to grab a bottle from the shelf and pushed a glass her way.  Nothing here was on the house and she’d pay for this out of her own pocket, which would severely undercut what she’d made thus far that night, but Alice didn’t mind.  She pulled the cork from the glass neck of the bottle and poured a splash of whiskey into her glass and raised it toward him, arching a brow.

           “What should we toast to, Deputy White?  Your pleasant company, perhaps?”

[equosettela-blog]

JOHN WHITE

               Don’t come over here, he silently begged, but there she was, moving toward him like the ocean moved. He hated himself for wanting to look, for needing to look because it made the memories of blood and seconds-too-late dissolve into nothing. Her presence, acid to his cotton misery. John knew what she did, though; he knew she wasn’t meant for him and him for her. John, as usual, didn’t willingly look her in the eye. He put on that usual scowl, his usual mask of indifference.

               “Deputy.” The correction was nearly growled, so deep, low, and rough was his voice. He finished his drink set it down too hard, and slid it toward the bartender. “I aint here for you. And no. Go on…” John made the mistake, a critical slip, and looked at her.

               “Git…”

               He never spoke a weaker word.

           “Deputy, that’s right.”  Alice said, feigning surprise.  She knew John White was the deputy in Sweetwater.  Everyone did.  Three times a day John White and his shiny deputy badge made their way past the saloon.  Three times a day ( most days ), Alice stood outside the Mariposa, reserving a smile for him, regardless of whether or not he actually wanted it.  She was counseled many, many times to let it lie, to leave him be.  Good men of the law didn’t look twice at saloon girls when they stuck to the law the way John White did.  

           Shame, Alice just didn’t know when to quit.

           “Too bad, Deputy White.  You’re stuck with me for now.  Your company is just too charming for me to give up so easily.”  She passed a smile his way, head tilted and blue eyes absorbed in his profile.  A moment of silence passed where Alice really watched him - really looked at him - and the smile faded away just a bit.  A line appeared between her brows, pinching the skin and pulling them together.  She relaxed the expression seconds after, but it had been there, and whatever had made her look at him in that way had softened the otherwise obnoxious exterior that was Alice Carter.

[equosettela-blog]

JOHN WHITE

⊱ ᴀʟɪᴄᴇ ⊰

              He sat there at the same stool at the end of the bar he always sat at when he survived the  day like that one. With his heels hooked onto the foot-rest and thick hand around a glass of whiskey that wasn’t too expensive or too cheap, John tried not to think about the day. Let it go. Let it be over. He tried not to think about the men he had to shoot, or the woman he’d been too late to save. Could’ve been his mother. Could’ve been.

               He dropped another swallow of burning whiskey into his stomach and allowed his eyes - loose in their sockets when he was two glasses in, to roam around, looking for her. She wore red. Pa always said red wasn’t a color good ladies wore. He didn’t like it when their lips were red, mouth half open, smiling teeth barely visible just behind them…

               But John did. John quietly, secretly, really did.

           Laughter was in no short supply within the walls of the Mariposa Saloon when  those seeking a good time mixed it with alcohol, and men earned affection from pretty ladies in tight corsets and short, hiked-up ruffle skirts ( or ladies from ladies, and even some men from men ).  Alice stood in a corner, leaning in a way which showed the curve of her body - a body that had plenty to give curve to - smiling as she interacted with one of the newcomers who came off the train that morning.  He was interested, but she noticed his eyes wander a time or two to catch Belle, a pretty little blond who put on a pretty good shy act.

           If Alice didn’t have a distraction of her own, she’d pull his attention back to her in order to earn a couple more bucks before the night was done.

           But John White had come in to the saloon, just like he always did ( or so she thought ) and Alice took one too many glances his way for it to be an accident.  Looking his way then ( how could her eyes not be drawn to him? ) Alice found herself in a predicament when his met hers.  She smiled - not something she had to tell herself to do as she often did - and glanced away, back to the man she’d been entertaining only to find his eyes were longingly glued to Belle.

           “I can introduce you, if you like.”  And though the man tried to recover, tried to pretend he didn’t want Belle, Alice read through it and rolled her eyes, taking his hand and pulling him toward her.  Successfully pawning him off ( or unsuccessfully, as she was out some decent cash ), Alice turned and ran her hands down her corset, fluffing her ruffled skirts and making her way toward the bar.

           Sliding into the seat beside him, Alice kept her body turned his way, smiling that small smile she only reserved for very few people and didn’t notice she was giving.  “And what did I do to deserve the pleasure of your company tonight, sheriff?  You haven’t had a change of heart and decided to try the impossible and make an honest woman out of me, have you?”

[equosettela-blog]

TEDDY FLOOD

open.

      ‘ i really can’t see nothing. you sure it wasn’t just a trick of the light? ’ 

           “I swear I saw something...”  Aniah trailed off toward the end, squinting in the direction she’d previously pointed out.  Perhaps she was overzealous, too wrapped up in everything this park was the further she experienced it.  Perhaps she’d only thought she saw a figure too big to be wildlife rustling through the brush up ahead.  Her heart was p o u n d i n g.  Aniah couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this alive.

           Her eyes found the host - a handsome heroic cowboy type, the sort she’d be more than happy to look at dreamily, the kind of man she couldn’t actually look at when she wasn’t here.  Aniah felt more trust in him than she did in herself, especially considering this was only her first night in this park.  She’d jumped in enthusiastically.  Maybe too enthusiastically.

           “You’re sure you don’t see anything?”  She asked him, frowning as she looked forward, lifting a hand and pointing toward the brush line.  “Up there?  I swear I thought I saw a guy.”

[equosettela-blog]

MISS ABERNATHY

What was Dolores after? She wasn’t entirely sure. That day had been weary as her thoughts paraded through her mind. There was very little room within her head for anything other than the rapid thoughts and visions she had been having of late. It seemed that her father’s words had slowly began to send her through a tizzy; one that she didn’t see a way out from.

With this in mind, there was no possible way that painting would be an option. As painting faded from the day’s picture, her horse road into town. Perhaps she could use the tension in her fingers for something better like baking; something that had a result that she knew very well. But as she dropped from her horse, her eyes were darted toward the train on the rails. 

“Excuse me,” her words rattled, turning around quickly to a fairly familiar face. “I think my mind’s gone and taken the next train outta town,” a smile perked onto her lips, slowly pressing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I’m always lookin’, I reckon. One day my prince charmin’s gonna waltz off that train, back from the army. But it’s lookin’ like today ain’t that day.”

           Alice smiled a knowing, amused smile, eyes chasing from the distant train station toward her conversational companion.  She’d seen plenty of men in the saloon whose little ladies would deny up and down they’d ever step boot into an establishment of the sort.  Snickering, she gave her head a shake.  “I wouldn’t waste the time waiting around.  Men are a dime a dozen around here, I’m sure you could find a replacement, or at least someone to have fun with while you wait.”

           Always seizing life and living it to the fullest.  Alice nodded her head toward two cowboys fresh off the train walking through town, their eyes lit up with the sort of wonder the newcomers always seemed to have when they got their first look of Sweetwater.  Her full, red-painted lips turned into a sultry smile as their eyes drew her way, shifting her posture to better accentuate what goods she had to offer.  It drew a wider smile from one and a bashful blush from the other, but they carried on their walk with a tip of their hat.  Alice turned her eyes back to Dolores Abernathy.

           “He gets to be off, shooting guns and getting war stories under his belt to come back and gush about so you’ll bat those pretty eyelashes at him and tell him how he’s your hero, why don’t you get to have any fun?”

[equosettela-blog]

HANDSOME LONER

               He didn’t flinch at her touch, but his cheeks were all too quick to change hue. His eyes fell. William was about to reach up and gently stop her hand in delivering even that softest touch. She was done before he could even start. A gap between them was returned, and WIlliam realized that she’d read him better than most people could. Did everyone adjust to them so easily? One minute he forgot they weren’t like him at all and the next, he was in awe of their abilities, and how much easier those abilities made it for him to interact with them.

               His muscles melted into place again, and he was much less bothered than he was entertained, even on a small scale. But the comfort lasted a mere minute before her words touched on something too close for comfort. He stared with an open mouth before force-shutting it and swallowing. She didn’t know what it meant to him; no one living or made did. Gunfire outside. The swirling, whirling, dangerous little thoughts came to a screeching halt.

              “See what I mean?” she said.

              “Yeah,” he said, and tossed back what she poured into his glass. Once the liquid had crawled its way all the way into his stomach where it burned and churned with acid, he was able to pick up the act again.

              “I leave all of that to my partner.” William nodded toward the stairs, where Logan had gone off to a little while ago. “I’m fine right where I am.”

           A seemingly seamless movement, as his empty glass rested on the table, Alice reached across, bottle in hand, and splashed a bit of liquid back in.  Her head tilted as she looked toward the stairs and pulled back through her memories ( or what she thought of as memories ) to recall the dark-haired man who’d come in with this newcomer earlier that evening.  “You’re with that one?”  Asked Alice, both parts confused and amused, shooting him a very curious look.  It hung on his face for a moment before she shrugged and finished the rest of the liquor in her glass.

           “That one had trouble written all over him.”  Alice said.  He’d also seemed absolutely comfortable in the saloon, which told Alice a piece of the puzzle she needed to know.  It made sense to her now why the white-hat wearing man had found himself in the saloon and why he was sitting away from the gambling tables, bar, and ladies in their revealing clothing.

           “You haven’t told me your name yet.  It’s very rude to share a drink with a lady and not tell her your name.”  Alice smiled, tone clearly betraying she was only playing with him.

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wHEN YOUR FACECLAIM YOU USE FOR A SALOON GIRL POSTS A INSTAGRAM PHOTO OF HER IN SALOON GIRL ATTIRE AND SAYS ITS HER WESTWORLD INSPIRED OUTFIT

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@thisviolentend wanted a starter from Alice ♥

           Leaning against one of the posts on the Mariposa Saloon’s porch, Alice watched the crowds mill by with a fan in one hand and the other resting on the curve of her hip.  As the desert heat seeped in, she fanned herself intermittently, offering a brief moment of reprieve.  Alice appeared relaxed, but her blue eyes were never still, always reaching for the faces of the newcomers any time the train pulled in.

           During her search, she stopped short on the sight of a blond girl - a familiar face in Sweetwater - the rancher’s daughter.  Alice frowned, watching her as she stilled.  “Unless you’ve got some interest in being a paying customer at the saloon, you might want to keep walking.”  

           Alice said, tilting her head, fanning herself a little before her eyes narrowed.  “Unless you’re looking for someone in particular...?”

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SIXSHOOTING

bishop doesn’t work here and doesn’t want to start acting like he does in the slightest. it’d be a different story if there were something in it for him, perhaps, but there isn’t.  which means he’s not lifting a finger to deal with this newcomer.

     ‘ i reckon you wanna touch him as little as i do. –could just move tables. ’ 

           There was absolutely no way Alice could move the man physically of her own doing and she didn’t need a second glance to tell her so.  Alice wasn’t the madam of the saloon ( never had the ambition to go for it ) and though she knew she had an obligation to make sure money kept coming in, if this was the hand she was dealt, this was what she was going to work with.  If the madam deemed it necessary the ( possibly dead ) man be moved, she could pay off some gentlemen to get it done.

           “Moving tables sounds fair enough to me.”  Alice decreed.  “You didn’t know him at all, did you?”  She asked, gesturing to the man - who she’d be happy to see far away from where anyone would be sitting and trying to enjoy themselves this evening.

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MAEVE

          ❛ if you lure in any more poor sods than you did yesterday, i may as well hand over my title right now. ❜

          there was an appreciative tone to her voice as she flashed a uniquely fond smirk in the woman’s direction. to say that alice was popular with the clientele at the mariposa saloon would have been quite the understatement; in truth, she was one of maeve’s most prized girls, perhaps second only to clementine. she’s was hard working, vivacious, and more importantly, she brought income into the saloon, for which maeve was decidedly grateful.

          ❛ alright then, ❜ she began, straightening up a bit as she stepped towards the window, her gaze sweeping over the crowd of people bustling past the saloon. ❛ who do you intend to make your first victim? i would be willing to bet some coin that you can’t get that worthless schmuck to step even a toe inside. ❜

          she nodded her head subtly towards a man who looked just about as mealy-mouthed as they came. the idea of his prudish figure somehow ending up within the walls of their saloon was almost laughable, and the prospect of watching alice attempt to convince him was simply too promising to pass up.

           With no hesitation, Alice rolled her eyes, offering Maeve a pointed look.  “You can keep your title, I’ve seen the shit you have to put up with and I’m not interested in the responsibility.”  A smile adorned her mouth after she’d spoken and the words were no less than the absolute truth.  Alice rather enjoyed playing her games and knew she was good at what she did, but she had little interest in taking on more responsibility than that.

           Attention directed toward the outskirts of the saloon, those who lingered and didn’t stray too close for fear they’d be pulled in, Alice let her eyes wander aimlessly across the faces of each individual nearby.  There was plenty to work with, from an easy grab to a more difficult one, and Alice couldn’t help but let her smile grow as Maeve pointed out a peculiar individual.

           “Easy.”  Alice said, all confidence as she winked at the saloon madam and brushed her hands down the shapely curve of her cinched corset ( even cinched, Alice did not have a tiny waist as some of the other girls did - she was thick and with curves in all the places the right man might salivate over ).  Moving forward, blue eyes holding the timid creature in their grasp, she made her way to his front, giving him a sweet smile rather than the sultry, forward position she might otherwise have.  Some of these boys wanted a woman who knew what they wanted and didn’t play games, otherwise were a bit more difficult to hold.  Some of them enjoyed the illusion and Alice had never once considered it pitiful.

           A little bit of talking, a few bold moves of her fingers dancing delicately over the folds of his vest - as if she meant at any moment to grip the fabric and pull him in - and Alice... well, Alice had him both intrigued and more afraid than before, which was a peculiar conundrum.  Press further and risk him running off, or back away and admit defeat?

           “Come in and have just one drink with me, won’t you?”  She asked him, blue eyes wide, head tilted upward, knowing full-well he had quite the stunning view of two of her voluptuous assets.  Her fingers traced the edges of the button on his vest.  “We won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”  She promised, voice low, gentle, spoken for him alone as if they shared an intimate moment in a private space rather than out in the open, where anyone could see them.

           The man was too nervous - actually beginning to tremble a bit in his place and Alice could see sweat dotted on his brow.  Even if it was encouraging to see he hadn’t run off yet, Alice didn’t think herself the successor if he fainted on the spot.  Of course, if he did that, she could just pick him up, carry him in, and win anyways.

           Lying her palm flat on his chest, her smile softened.  “Think about it. You know where to find me.”  He swallowed and nodded, and Alice turned to walk her way back to Maeve, feeling his eyes on her every step of the way.

           “Well, I think you win that one.”