Below in the saloon, Harmonica strolls over from outside.
Wilona glances to the door and watches Harmonica enter from her perch.
Below in the saloon, Harmonica wanders into the saloon, dusting himself off.
Below in the saloon, Harmonica wanders quietly to the bar, removing his hat (a
hat?) and leans his elbow on the counter.
Wilona shushes the high pitched whine of one of her girls and keeps her
attention upon Harmonica. Brushing down the front of her skirt, she descends the
stairs.
[Harmonica]
A little on the tall side, with a lean athletic frame, this man appears to be in
his late twenties or early thirties. You reckon he's been out in the sun for a
long time, cause his skin's got a unnatural brown-red shade, and his hair, once
light brown, has been worn all to a sun bleached blonde. The hair is unruly,
with long bangs in the front, and you guess he hasn't seen a barber in a long
while. His face is boyish, almost reminding you of a choir boy, if it wasn't for
the hardened edges and five o'clock shadow decorating his jaw. Two clear blue
eyes peer at you, and looks around the surroundings quietly, eeriely calm. His
outfit is a shambles...cheap looking corduroys hang around his legs, and rough
dirty tan shirt with long sleeves can be seen peeking out from under a dusty
looking poncho. His boots are strangely clean, leather shining in the slightest
light.
Harmonica steps up along the bar.
Wilona approaches the bar and clears her throat loudly, her eyes falling upon
Harmonica to see if he looks her way.
Elowanda strides over from outside.
Harmonica doesn't seem to notice Wilona as he flicks his poncho off his shoulder
and removes a homemade cigarette from his shirts breast pocket. His eyes have a
tired expression, and fixate on the cigarette for a little while.
Wilona is near the bar, her gaze on Harmonica. She drops the subtle attempt and
asks loudly, "Drink, Mr. Harmonica?"
[Elowanda]
Slightly pouty lips in a pale pale face part slightly, as if this dark-haired
woman is going to speak. Strikingly green eyes, catlike and calm, seem to weigh
the actions of the people around her dispassionately. She is slight, with a
ripe, slightly overblown figure that her faded blue dress seems cut to reveal.
Her hair hangs in dark ripples down her back, as a young girl's might, but her
gait is strutting, sensual... in no way the movement of an innocent. The
high-topped shoes on her feet are worn, and laced tightly, as if to keep them in
one piece, although her dress seems almost new.
Elowanda saunters in very slowly, murmuring something in a questioning tone to
one of the miners, sitting at a table. The man responds with a nod, and a
gesture towards Wilona.
Harmonica keeps his eyes on the cigarette. He mutters "Yeah. Double Whiskey." in
a hoarse whisper. He takes a match and strikes it on the counter, sticking the
cigarette between his teeth and takes a drag.
Elowanda gives the miner a slow, almost deliberate smile, and makes her way
purposefully towards the indicated woman.
Wilona nods quickly, never moving too far from Harmonica's place at the bar. She
pours the drink, glancing up often with some unspoken question poised on her
lips. She doesn't notice the woman approaching.
Harmonica chews on his cigarette, eyes hard and thoughtful. Sure picked yourself
a slow town to stay over in. Maybe that's a good thing.
Elowanda moves to the bar, and places her hand at the edge of Wilona's line of
vision, spreading her fingers wide in a sudden flash of motion-- a discreet
attempt to catch the other woman's attention for a second.
Harmonica moves the cigarette around in his mouth and glances over at some
imperfection
Wilona glances at Elowanda briefly then looks back at Harmonica. After a moment
she slowly drags her eyes back to Elowanda, blinking at the woman's appearance
before smiling. "Welcome to the Grey Horse Saloon." She ventures, "Drink?"
Elowanda asks softly, "Inna bit, mebbe-- you're tha owner of this place?" She
doesn't reallly wait for an answer. "When ya git a moment, could I talk ta ya
'bout mebbe workin' here?"
Harmonica takes the cigarette out of his mouth and lazily picks up his glass. He
takes a sip and sucks in some air between his teeth. He sets the glass back down
and goes back to chewing on the cigarette.
Wilona's brow goes up, but not much. She doesn't seem to be taken off guard by
this request. Her eyes wander over the woman's dress quickly, her features and
all the while Lona's lips are pursed in thought. She nods, "Ok. Then let's
talk."
Harmonica seems to be making his mind up about something. That...or just
concentrating on looking enigmatic. Whatever the case, his eyes are fixated on a
small chip in the counter. He picks at it idly.
Elowanda shrugs, and then smiles. "AI'm in need o' a way ta earn a livin', an'
I'm used ta workin in saloons."
Wilona moves closer to Elowanda and lowers her voice, not that it matters.
Harmonica, seemingly in his own world, probably wouldn't hear her if she
shouted. "How old are you?"
Elowanda thinks about that for a while, and then replies, "Almos' 20."
Harmonica steps away from the bar, having not finished his drink. He heads out,
a frown crossing his face,
Harmonica moves off towards the porch.
Elowanda smiles at you very slowly, a smile with a trace of mockery in it.
Wilona nods, accepting this, "What other saloons have you worked in? Where? How
long?" Wilona never heard of the Spanish Inquisition, but she probably could
have been an inquisitor
Elowanda leans against the bar slightly, and starts ticking them off on her
hand. "Tha' Gold Dollar, in Santa Fe, tha' Red Dog in Crazy Woman-- thet's a
little town in Texas, an' tha' Broken Bottle in Wyomin' Territories." She looks
up. "Spent 'bout a year, two years in each place."
Wilona nods, she heard of the Gold Dollar, it's reputation is known further then
most think. She cuts the questions and goes for the important things, "You get a
room, board, and 1 drink a night. House takes half." Period.
Elowanda nods. "Soun's more'n fair."
Lizzy hurries over from the stairs.
Lizzy pauses at the foot of the stairs and gives the room a lazy-seeming
once-over
Elowanda is leaning against the bar, speaking quietly with Wilona. She looks up,
and gives the other girl a slow smile.
[Lizzy]
Tall and willowy, with an affected regal air to match. Her cornsilk-pale hair
(natural, thankyouverymuch) is artfully twisted at the back of her head, and
then falls in ringlets down her back. Too much rouge highlights her high
cheekbones which, along with her pale blue eyes, are among the best features of
a rather pretty face. Her gown is of a delicate peach color and sets off her
complexion just so, with a scandalous neckline and a flaring skirtline which
gives peeps at slender ankles.
Lizzy nods once to Wanda and Wilona and saunters over to where they're standing.
Takes her time about it, too; every step calculated.
Wilona nods then looks over as Lizzy approaches. She makes the announcement as
if she's announcing a new shipment of whiskey as opposed to more competition. "Lizzy,
this is..." Oops, forgot the name, she waits for Elowanda to supply it.
Elowanda supplies it with another of those mocking smiles, "Wanda."
Wilona nods and continues, "Wanda, she'll be taking Daria's old room."
Mac walks into the Saloon and nods to the ladies here.
Lizzy smiles at that, her eyes meeting the new girl's with no trace of the
expression below. "How nice"
Mac says "Evenin', Wilona...how're ya doin'?"
Lizzy says "Then I expect we'll get to know each other really well, dearie."
[Elowanda Disconnected]
Wilona nods to Mac as he enters, already preparing the pour the drink he will no
doubt order. "Evening Mac."
Lizzy turns smoothly as the gentleman approaches, her face lighting up with a
practiced flair. "Evening, Mac"
Mac smiles and winks to Wilona as he heads for the shadowy table.
Mac sits down at a table in the shadows.
Wilona looks about the near empty room and frowns, she addresses Lizzy in a
disgruntled tone, "I'm a little worried about that new priest who took over the
Church, have you noticed how bad business has been lately?"
Mac chuckles. "Now, 'Lona...th' miners've nae been in o' late...th't's good 'n
bad, I guess.
Lizzy rolls her eyes and nods. "Yes, it's disgraceful. Interferin' with honest
hard-workin' folks"
Lizzy's smile turns ingenious. "After all, doesn't a man deserve to be well
looked-after, body /and/ soul?"
Mac laughs.
Wilona picks up Harmonica's half finished drink and wipes the wood clean. She
frowns and sniffs the whiskey, as if maybe it went bad. She sighs, "Well, we've
got to do something soon to turn things around, I can't afford to be open if
they aren't coming in." She looks Lizzy over and then laughs, "Yes, Lizzy, You
are right." She murmurs, "And I can think of one in particular."
Webster saunters over from outside.
Lizzy gives Wilona a sly look. There's sisterhood and then there's opportunity.
Her smile goes to all sister, for now.
Allard hurries over from outside.
Webster hangs up his hat and crosses towards the bar.
Mac nods to Doc and Allard.
Wilona glances up, speaking of the devil.... She smiles, "Richard."
Allard looks back over at Wilona, and his own face lights with an unexpected
smile. He saunters over to the bar, trailing cigar smoke. "Lona. How you been,
sweetheart?" No sarcasm, even. Wow.
Lizzy smooths her professional cheerfulness into place again. Custom, more than
one, even. Maybe he hasn't spooked them all off. "Evenin' gentlemen!"
Webster gives Lizzy a polite nod and smile as he arrives at the bar.
"Evening..."
Mac orders tea from Jason
Jason fixes the ties of his apron and gets tea for Mac.
Wilona motions about at the near empty bar that is only just beginning to fill.
She notes wryly in answer to Allard, "Poor."
Allard only gives Lizzy the barest glance. He knows better than to ogle at the
saloon whores. Ylsa would find out, of course.. besides which, that's never been
his style. Adultery with a friend, however.. is. He leans against the bar across
from Lona, eyebrows raised a little. "Poor? How's that?"
Webster glances across to Wilona, curious to hear her answer too, as he signals
Jason for a whiskey. Webster rarely makes a pretense of not eavesdropping.
Lizzy mixes among the sparse customers, dispensing a smile here, there a wink,
once a start and a dagger-look. She seemingly at random ends in easy earshot of
Mister Allard's conversation
Wilona sighs, "No business, I don't know if it's the new priest or if people are
just moving on, but my receipts are down." She notices Webster and waves to him,
"Hello Doc."
Mac sips on his tea.
Benjamin hurries over from outside.
Wilona is behind the bar, speaking with Allard.
Allard looks terribly interested in this bit of news. "Well, Lona, I'd been
meaning to speak to you about that." He grins down at her charmingly. "How about
you get us each a bit of the Good Stuff and I'll bounce some stuff off of you."
As opposed to in you. He loosens his tie with his index finger. It's not hot in
here. It's October. Isn't it?
Webster nods back to Wilona as he pays Jason, cocking an eyebrow in Allard's
direction. Hm.
Mac shakes his head. "Another scheme, Allard?"
Frank strolls over from outside.
Benjamin walks up to the bar, and sets his hat beside him. "Whiskey, please."
Wilona smiles slowly, her lips curving into an amused grin, "Well now, I think I
can accommodate you, Richard." She moves over the the cabinet, unlocking it with
the key she produces from somewhere in the bodice of her dress.
Allard watches the emergence of the key with something more than clinical
interest. He loosens his collar again, discreetly. Think about money, Allard.
The problem is, thinking about money is an aphrodisiac too.
Frank takes a seat somwhere, counting his change speculatively.
Lizzy's expression slips into as close to sour as her vanity permits. Waste of
time, here, obviously. With an artful flip of her skirt she sashays off for
other targets
Mac sits down at a table in the shadows.
Wilona removes a tall container filled to the top with a deep amber liquid. This
she brings to Allard, scooping two glasses up as she passes the rack, "How's
Ylsa." Oh, Great Wilona, couldn't you have chosen _another_ topic?
Mac smiles a bit as he sips on his tea.
Allard shrugs a little, glancing up from Lona's chest enough to look at her
face. His own is quite blank. "All right. I think." He pauses a few beats of his
fingers on the bar top. "How's Tucker."
Wilona pours. She hardly blinks, answering the question as if she'd been asked
the weather. "Haven't seen him much."
Mac finishes his tea and settles back, listening.
Benjamin stands next to Webster. "Good evening, Doc. Can I buy you a drink?"
Allard sucks on his front teeth a long moment, eyes lingering on his face. Same
old story, huh Lona? Loving other people more than they love you, being loved by
the wrong ones. Being loved more than you love. The story of his own life, and
Wilona's. He lifts the glass, elbows on the bar, and toasts her with it. "Here's
to timing, then."
Webster turns towards Benjamin. "Hm? Oh, no thanks, got one. How's Adam?"
Mac motions to Jason to refill his cup.
Wilona cocks her head, not quiet understanding the toast, still she raises her
glass and takes a savoring sip of the Good whiskey. Then she giggles, "This is
really terrible of me, I don't even think I can afford to be drinking this."
Benjamin smiles his usual goofy-daddy smile. "He's fine. Elizabeth takes good
care of him."
Mac laughs. "Don't ye be worryin' about th't, 'Lona....sure 'n ye'll be busy
again soon."
Webster nods, grinning. "And I take it she's doing fine, herself?"
Benjamin nods. "She is. She worries about me too much, but I reckon that means
she's not still all tired out from the baby."
Allard takes a leisurely sip, as opposed to his usual headlong consumption of
alcohol. He sighs happily and savors a moment, then takes another. "This is on
me, Lona. But if this works out, you won't be worrying about the price of one
bottle of whiskey, good or not."
Wilona's brow shoot sup quickly, Allard definitely has her attention. "How's
that, Allard?"
Frank is lagged. Ick.
Webster nods. "Good, good...good sign, I think. Lot of times a woman won't have
much thought for anything besides a new baby for a while."
Allard thought that might do it. He grins at her again, winningly. "I had this
idea a while back.." His voice lowers a few notches. No need to advertise. Yet.
Mac takes his tea from Jason and pays for it, taking a good sip.
Allard speaks at length, earnestly. He mutters to Wilona, "These miners... I...
that. The... business--... women in... So the... the... have... they... to...
fun-- but... it's.. gambling."
Allard continues, after taking another sip. He mutters to Wilona, "Open... this
joint,... of one pathetic poker... and... have... turning... away... the
door.... guarantee... And... whole shebang for..."
Allard is such a Prince of a guy. He leans back again, smiling at Lona very
smugly indeed.
Wilona absorbs all this information, then leans back. Staring openly at Allard.
Hmmm? What was that.. oh yeah business. She breaks off her stare and swallows,
"How much investment would it take?"
Allard plays his Ace, with a suitable flourish. He makes a nice big 'zero' with
his thumb and index finger. "From you my love, not a single red dime."
Mac laughs. "'N what else would she 'ave to give f'r it, Allard?"
Wilona, appropriately, looks like someone who knows she's being conned. She
crosses her arms, this action causing her bosom to push up higher and strain
against her gown, "And how did you propose to do that, Allard?" What do I have
to do, sleep with you?
Frank muffles a cough.
Mac laughs.
A chuckle and then a titter come from the balcony.
Webster's attention is caught by this last, and a bit of Allard's previous
speech sort of filters into his mind. He glances over at the pair. Um, at Allard
and Wilona, that is.
Terral saunters over from outside.
Allard loses his entire train of thought abruptly, as the Wonder Twins attract
Allard's (and his faithful sidekick's) attention. "Uhhhh.." Making the sound is
enough to wake him up enough that he realizes that she asked him a question.
Which is enough for him to search his short-term memory for the question in
question. All of which takes about thirty seconds. Finally, he remembers where
he was. "Let me become partners with you in this place. I'll cough up the cash
for the improvements."
Terral walks in and tips her hat up, looking around. Up. Around again. Up again.
Her gaze finally settles on Benjamin and she weaves through tables toward him.
Mac waves to Terral. "Evenin', Terral!"
Wilona frowns, her arms unfolding and dropping to her side. "I don't know
Allard." Her slight shake of head backs up this little sentiment. "I can't
afford another partner."
Mac thinks to himself. "You can't afford Allard as a partner, Wilona....you'd be
broke right quick."
Allard's gaze is, irresistibly, drawn back to Bambi and Thumper. She really
ought to quit moving them all around if she wants to have an intelligent
conversation with Richard Allard. Another lengthy pause, reboot, and recall
later, Allard summons up a response that is not purely Pavlovians. "/Another/
partner? I didn't know you had one at all. Who is it?"
Webster frowns. This might explain an old, old mystery...
Terral stops at the table. Benjamin's table. Assuming Benjamin is actually
sitting at a table. And she looks at Benjamin. Who is presumably sitting at the
table.
Benjamin is standing at the bar, next to Webster.
Terral ah-has. This would explain why he didn't notice her standing at his
table. There is no 'his table'. So Terral heads over to the bar, to Benjamin,
next to Webster.
Webster mmms. Nope. He sips his drink again, and tries to turn his attention at
least apparently away. He nods towards Terral.
Benjamin says "Good evening, Mrs. Bender."
Terral smiles to -Webster-. *smile*. Looks at Benjamin.
Terral smiles to Benjamin next. "Hi Mister Culver." Terral then announces the
obvious: "I'm back. When do you want me to start back at work?"
Benjamin says "Tomorrow morning?"
Allard is able to focus at least minimally, since Wilona didn't move her bosoms
that time. His eyebrows climb his forehead, but he looks only minimally amused.
"Reardon," he echoes, smiling a little. "Do you /like/ being beholden to that
son of a bitch?" He says it friendly as can be.
Smile. Terral nods, a mish-mash of curls bobbing to accent the motion. "Gotcha."
As an afterthought, "Mister Culver." Terral then taps on the bar and grins to
Jason. "Beer?" She remains leaning on the bar, near Benjamin.
Wilona frowns, coming to Reardon's defense. "He's not all that bad, Richard."
She looks down at her toes, "He helped me last summer when the stores were
empty."
Allard is all gentle concern, again. "Not all that bad. Then how come it's so
bad and difficult you don't want another partner?" Hmmmmmmm? He looks at her a
moment longer, and his voice lowers.
Allard mutters to Wilona, "... Business... Not... want..."
Allard grins sheepishly at her, then takes a healthy shot of whiskey.
Wilona flushes and looks up at Allard. A full minute passes before she breathes,
"You do?"
Benjamin says "You sure you're up to it, Mrs. Bender? You can have a few more
days."
Reardon saunters over from outside.
Wilona is standing by the bar gaping at Allard.
Mrs. Wiggins comes over from outside.
Allard looks totally serious, for a bare moment, and he nods once. "Of course,"
he mutters, and then the grin appears again. "You doubt it?"
Mrs. Wiggins walks on into the saloon, quite tentatively. Oh -there's- that
Doctor Webster. Mrs. Wiggins knees turn to water at the sight of him.
Webster is at the bar, at this point at least not being too obvious about
listening to Allard talking to Wilona. Benjamin is next to him, and I think
Terral is still next to Benjmain.
Tilting her head to the side in brief thought (brains rattle around better that
way), Terral shrugs, then grins. "Doesn't matter, I guess. Elijah would like me
to work on the house in my spare time. We have to get it done before it gets
-really- cold." It is, actually -really- cold, if anyone were to poll Terral on
the subject. It's colder now, here, than she ever remembers any entire winter in
Arizona to be. Cold. And they keep saying it's going to get colder. Elijah won't
listen to Terral's suggestions to dig a large hole and fill it with furs. He's
still insisting on the cabin. Presumably so they can freeze above ground,
instead of below. "So whatever's best, I guess."
Jebediah hears someone call for a round on the house and he's just tickled pink.
He slides his glass towards Jason excitedly, "Fill er up, Man!"
Reardon pushes his way through the saloon doors, cordial smile in place. And
very nearly shattered by the sight of Allard and Wilona together. But, he keeps
his mouth closed, and a calm manner about him, nodding to those who's eye he
happens to catch, and steps toward the bar proper.
Benjamin says "Tomorrow morning, then."
Terral nods, flashes a grin, and takes a swig of her beer, turning interested
eyes to Mrs. Wiggens and Reardon.
Mrs. Wiggins walks up to the bar and clears her throat, and then asks Jason,
meekly, "Coffee?"
Jason scowls at that old hag.
Wilona notices Reardon. Oh dear. RUN. And she does. Quickly she takes the bottle
of Good whiskey and stuffs it back in the cabinet. "Well, Mr. Allard, I shall
have to consider your offer." She graces him with a half smile, and a nervous
one at that. "Sleep on it as they say." She licks her lips which have gone stone
dry and moves to escape from behind the bar, "If you'll excuse me."
Reardon directs at Jason, when he's got a moment, "Brandy." He doesn't notice
Wilona running. Much.
Jason puts the pot on for coffee, nodding his roughly shaven jaw at Reardon, "Com'n
right up, Sor"
Allard stares after Wilona, grinning to himself. He does that to her a lot. It
tickles the hell of him.
You stride towards the stairs that lead upwards.