Log by Ylsa, upon entering the restaurant. --
Restaurant Dining Room Contents: Maggie Tess Lockett Miguel Abagail Allard
Taylor
Lockett tilts his head after the disappearing Abigail. He doesn't appear to get
it. Yet, either way he joins her titter with one of his own. A high-pitched
giggle that could out do any of the LAC gaggle.
You are a scholar and a gentleman, Allard, and Tess barely even falls as she
walks in the door, wondering if she's still being hung onto, or hanging onto,
Ylsa.
Taylor follows everyone in. This is the most dangerous part of town for her. All
those tables and chairs.
Miguel sits in his usual back table of the restaurant, near the kitchen door.
Until the parade marched in, he was watching Lockett. Lockett is definitely
something to watch.
Maggie walks through the open door, entirely unappreciative of Allard's
unexpected display of politeness.
Lockett is seated at a table near the door, he looks up with avid interest as
the group enters, looking each member over with interest.
Ylsa has some piece of Tess in her grip.
Allard wanders in after shepherding his little gaggle of drunk women in. How the
hell does he get himself into these things? Then again, what the hell. When in
Rome, right? He glances at Abagail's disappearing back and sighs. Might be time
to finally fulfill his threat and get really drunk all over Miguel. That might
be fun, and justice too, while he's at it.
Poor poor Miguel. His eyes widen and he glances at Tess, then Ylsa, then Tess
again. Then Allard. Then Taylor. Maggie. The last two aren't so bad. The first
three worry Miguel. He rises from his seat and pads over, the giggling man
forgotten. "Hello?" That means - tell me what's going on.
Taylor isn't drunk, but she bumps into Tess more than once. She's nearly blind.
Maggie is just along for the ride. She isn't even drunk. She steps a bit away
from the other women, and watches.
Allard smiles humorlessly back at Miguel. "Merry Christmas, dear brother."
Ylsa straightens. She releases Tess now and Smiles (capital S) to Allard. Look.
Miguel's here. "Miguel is here." Ylsa turns to Taylor and points to Miguel.
"This is Miguel. He is my brother. And he goes away."
Taylor looks at Miguel.
Meeting Rick's blue gaze with his own black one, Miguel returns a mild smile.
"Gracias. Merry Christmas to you. Why are they drunk?" Those two. Drunk ones.
Mac saunters over from the road.
Allard steers Ylsa towards a table, wanting right now more than anything just to
sit down and get settled. "Beats the hell out of me. Maybe it's the unbearable
of joy knowing you and I, respectively, eh?"
Ripley hurries over from the road.
Ripley walks in after Mac.
Lockett looks each of the members over, the young woman, the squinting woman,
the darker woman.. then his eyes settle on Allard. And go Wide. He appears to
drink the man in from head to toe, the crew of ladies nothing more then
accessories to a well put together outfit. He smacks his lips and tears his eyes
away from Allard as more Men enter.
Mac slips into a chair off to the side.
Ylsa is steered and she turns while being escorted, "Tess! We sit down now."
Brilliance. She smiles at Lockett, while being herded by. Write it down,
Lockett. Doesn't happen often.
Maggie smiles at Mac, and Ripley. She's ..well, watching. Standing near the
door.
Taylor follows Ylsa and Tess to the table and sits down, after they do. She
might be blind, but at least she has her balance.
Allard deposits Ylsa on his chosen chair, glowers at Tess once more for
thoroughness' sake, and sits himself down next to Ylsa, his chair rather close
indeed.
Watching Allard take Ylsa away, Miguel looks next at Tess and Taylor. He does
step back, to allow Ripley and Mac to enter. "Joy of knowing us? No. Rick. She
used to get drunk before she met you too. That is not it."
Ripley nods to Miguel. "Merry Christmas"
Allard just glances at Miguel again. "Well, nothing more boring than being the
only sober person in a crowd of drunks. Bring us a bottle of.. Well, hell, it's
Christmas. Make it.. Tequila."
Miguel shakes his head, with a slight smile at Rick. "No. The Tequila is mine.
It is not for sale. You want beer or wine?"
Ripley sits down at the table under the window.
Allard snorts, offended. "Whiskey?" He sounds disbelieving. Beer? *Wine*?!
Maggie sighs, faintly, and sits down at a table with a thoroughly discontented
expression. Christmas. Whatever.
Lockett adjusts his seat with a loud grinding against the wooden floor so that
he may have a better view of the crowded table nearby.
"No whiskey. The saloon is down the road." Miguel is ever helpful. He turns back
to help Taylor and Tess to a table. You. Come. Here. And Miguel even bothers to
pull chairs out of the way for Taylor. Whatta guy.
Taylor sits down with a grin. "Thank you, brother-sir."
Eyebrow quirks at Taylor. "Miguel Mendez." Who is neither a brother, nor a sir
to Taylor. He nods to her and helps Tess into a chair nearby Taylor. "Tea OK?"
There's Abagail, heading in Lockett's direction with a pot. Miguel tries to
catch her eye. Tea. Look at me, Abagail. Tea. Here. Look. Abby, gal...
Lockett sees his tea arriving and even goes so far as to clap his hands together
in anticipation. "Wonderful! Just wonderful." He slides his hat to the _other_
side of the table, just in case the cup of tea needed more room to be placed
just-so in front of him.
Taylor smiles at Miguel, getting a good look at him at this range. Who'd believe
he's gayer than all of Paris? "Pleased ta meetcha, Mr Mendez."
Ylsa turns to watch Miguel, as she addresses her husband. "Rick. See, he is
still here. He is not gone yet. And do you want rum?" From the depths of Ylsa's
skirts comes a rum bottle, to sit on the table. "Rum is OK. Patrick told me how
to drink rum." She nods and looks back at Miguel. "And he's still here. Think he
will stay?"
Maggie glances at Lockett. Such enthusiasm. She then returns to looking
irritatingly glum.
Ripley mutters to Maggie, "... glum... Bennington."
Miguel turns a grin on Taylor that is pure habit, and yes, it is hard to believe
he's gayer than all Paris, "Nice to meet you, Senorita Branagh." He dispenses
with hand-kissing. His sister is talking about him. This usually bodes ill.
Taylor gets a good look at Miguel's smile. What a damn shame.
Transom strolls over from the kitchen.
Ripley is loaded down with all this Christmas cheer.
Maggie glances at Transom.
Ripley tips his hat. "Mac."
Allard raises an eyebrow at Ylsa, and then at the rum. "Do you remember the
*last* time you and I drank rum together, Ylsa?"
Ripley strolls off towards the road.
Miguel stands over a table with Tess and Taylor, though he's actually trying to
get Abagail's attention. Ylsa and Allard sit in the corner. One good look at
either Ylsa or Tess might indicate they've been at the holiday spirits as one
might say. Lockett sits at a table by himself, admiring one half of the view of
the Allard table, and Maggie sits alone.
Transom enters, still smiling from something discussed in the kitchen. He looks
over the crowded restaurant and moves towards the hat rack. His hat gets placed
on top of a rather fine looking ladies wool outdoor coat.
"No." Ylsa guesses, "Did we have sex?" Not a hard jump really. Doesn't take much
for Ylsa and Allard to have sex.
Lockett leans back as Abigail serves his teat, taking time to comment at how hot
it is. This he emphasizes by waving his hand over the tea cup limply and then
blowing across the surface. Satisfied that his little efforts have accomplished
something he picks up the spoon daintily and begins to stir.
Having finally gotten Abagail's attention, when she is released from Lockett's
monolog on his tea, Miguel repeats, "Tea, for these two, please." And now he
notices Transom and grins at the deputy from across the room. He straightens.
Transom spies Miguel hovering over Tess and Taylor and shakes his head with a
small smile. Le plus ce change le plus c'est la meme chose.
Maggie glances at the door, then stands and pushes her chair in, not yet having
ordered anything. She heads for the door.
Maggie walks off towards the road.
Allard shakes his head emphatically at Ylsa. "Nope. You got your leg stitched
up, remember?" His face darkens again. Shouldn't have brought that up.
Ylsa doesn't remember. She's really good at blocking some things out. "No.
Stitched up. Oh! Wait. That was the Princess story?" She searches Allard's face,
oblivious to the Looks that Lockett is giving her husband.
Taylor asks, "Tea?"
Allard turns, abruptly, from the table, to survey the room. "I guess," he
mutters. Doesn't really want to talk about Amanda right now, or about
Christopher. Surest way to ruin a Christmas. "Tea's fine," he answers absently.
"Spike it, why don't you, Miss Taylor?"
Abagail has arrived, as bidden. "Tea? Honey or milk?" She changes, for her own
amusement, whatever combination of sweetener and clouder that she offers
patrons.
>From Lockett's table comes the chink chink noise of spoon hitting pottery.
Endlessly he stirs his tea, that is until he notices Transom. Seems this is a
better view then Allard was. The hand, and the spoon in it are held frozen in
motion over the tea cup.
Transom moves towards that table, returning the smile. But because it seems
called for Transom asks, "Senor Mendez, I am told that you are looking for me?"
All manners is Jack and he smiles at Taylor and Tess beatifically... pure
dimples and charm.
Grinning at Transom, Miguel indicates the table in the back, where Miguel's
coffee cup sits. Those who know Miguel can identify him by the proximity of his
coffee cup to the saucer it is supposed to be sitting on. He leans down to Tess
and Taylor once more. "She will bring tea. Do you want anything else?"
Taylor shakes her head, "No, just tea for me."
Allard glances at Miguel again. "Whiskey."
Tess shakes her head mutely at Miguel.
Ylsa nods. Tea. Sure. "Merry Christmas tomorrow, Rick." She pretends she's not
drunk. And when Transom walks in, she has to look over to him. Eyes narrow
somewhat on the deputy.
Lockett drops his spoon, the metal object falling awkwardly and dousing his nose
with a few droplets of tea. He doesn't seem to notice as he quietly exclaims to
himself, "Dimples too! There is a God and he loves me." Drip.
Transom puts on a Serious Expression. A sit at a table and have deep
conversations with Senor Mendez, expression. He moves towards the table Mendez
indicated and spins a chair around to straddle it. This puts his back to the
wall and brings Ylsa's expression into view. He ducks it but shaking his bangs
over his eyes.
Allard is seized by a sudden fit of impatience, and he looks back at Ylsa.
"Well, I want you to open something early. Just got in, and I want to give it to
you." So there. Nyah.
Miguel ignores Allard like he didn't hear Allard. Imagine that. Brother and law
for only a year now? Less? And he can tune Allard's voice right out. Sliding his
hand along the back of Tess' chair, and nodding to Taylor, he murmurs, "Pardon."
and heads over to Transom. Back off Lockett. He's taken. Miguel sits in the
chair opposite, trusting his side to the room at large. "Jack."
Tess puts her face in her hands, slowly. Tess should not have come home. Tess
should have stayed at the saloon and drank until she passed out. Stupid, stupid
Tess.
"Something early?" Ylsa turns a very interested expression to Allard. She's
easily distracted when drinking this heavily and she likes presents. "What is
it?" Not a horse, like last time, obviously. Ylsa wouldn't be able to 'unwrap'
it.
Allard pulls out a wrapped, beribboned box from an inner pocket of his coat, and
hands it over to Ylsa with great ceremony. He likes giving presents. And this
one is rather obviously jewelry.
Lockett's tea is completely forgotten. He watches this tete-a-tete between
Transom and Miguel with mixed emotions that can be read easily from his face. He
pulls out his deck of cards and begins to shuffle them, idly wondering if Miguel
is a gambling man.
Ylsa likes jewelry presents too. Oh yes. Fingers not yet completely dulled by
drink fumble briefly with the wrapping and box.
A grin stretches Miguel's lips, "You are looking good, Jack." And he once more
tries to get Abagail's attention as the woman brings Tess and Taylor's tea to
them. "Coffee?" Directed generally, "Everything OK?" Miguel's look on Jack is
intent.
Transom blows a bit to clear the way for a look across the table. "Miguel." He
tilts his head curiously, "Misser Wu tells me you 'look all over for me'." The
accent is unmistakable.
And Ylsa's fingers emerge from the box with an obviously extravagantly expensive
triple stranded pearl choker, held together in the front with an ivory cameo.
Count your blessings, Ylsa, at least it's not a pink hat, right? Allard watches
her, looking extremely self-satisfied.
Miguel shakes his head, "Not recently. But I am glad you are here."
Taylor blinks again, and says, "Oh. I better get goin'. I'm to meet someone."
Transom grins, "Oh. Well then... I guess I should stay a bit then, being it's
the holidays and all. You do know, however, that we've been asked to attend
Samantha Bargold at her ranch this evening."
Tess looks, briefly, at the tea that Abagail has provided, and doesn't suppose
it has any alcohol in it. And because it probably doesn't, Tess doesn't touch
it, but puts her face back in her hands, and sits.
You know, Rick, that someday someone is going to go into the Post Office attic
and unearth a hat box with the most hideous pink hat ever fashioned by
womankind. Someday. ANd it will probably end up in a museum somewhere, as an
example of Woman's Wear, 1870. Someday. But this - this is quite nice. "Oh
Rick!" Ylsa is very pleased. Imagine all the thugs she'll get to fight off,
wearing this?!
Taylor stands. She waves to everyone and walks through the building, tripping
over chair legs, but making it to the door.
Taylor moves off towards the road.
Miguel nods, then noting Tess, now alone, at the table with her face in her
hands. "OK. I would like that, Jack. I think I need to talk to Tess, though. See
if she is OK." Here's your chance, Lockett. Miguel rises and pads back over to
Tess' table, sitting down at the chair, with only a passing glance at Ylsa's
finery. Lovely. Imagine all the thugs you'll get to fight off, wearing that,
Ylsa.
Lockett promptly falls asleep where he sits, his breathing low with an
occassional grunt.
Tess, who was listening, if against her will, murmurs into her hands, "Ah'm
okay, Miguel."
Allard is unspeakably pleased. Practicality is against his religion. And the
wife of Richard Allard should have nice stuff; it's only fitting. He beams at
her, and nods at her neck. "Put it on."
Transom doesn't provide the opportunity, following Miguel over to Tess' table.
He says quietly, "Miss Elliot is welcome to join us I'm sure. In fact, Miss
Elliot, I believe Samantha would be most disappointed if you did not." Jack
stands across the table from Tess, looking down at her without the slightest
hint of humor. God forbid we go through this hassle again.
Miguel glances at Transom again. Lines of strain seem to age his features even
under that beard and moustache. "Tess. You do not look OK. You look upset." His
eyes shut briefly at Transom's words and he nods, "Come with us, Tess?" Miguel's
voice is gentle. Cajoling.
Ylsa would be only too happy to put the necklace on, but it's always more fun if
someone else does it. "Here, you. I will hold my hair, Rick." And she does,
putting the necklace down in front of Rick and pulling the thick plait of black
hair off her neck, to present it bare to Rick.
Tess lowers her hands, lifting her chin to look not at Miguel, but at Jack
Transom. God forbid, Transom? You're the one who _insisted_ on the hassle. Give
Tess one reason why she shouldn't return the favor. One reason. "Ah wouldn't
want t'intrude."
Transom's lip twitches up in a slight smile as he offers his arm, "Miss Elliot,
on my honor you will come to no harm on this venture. I will escort you
personally and this scandalous restaurant owner can simply follow in our wake."
Allard is rather distracted by the neck in question, but he gets the necklace on
and settled with a minimum of fuss. "There," he murmurs, and turns her around to
Admire, and smiles, a rather complicated smile. "You look beautiful." And it
isn't just the necklace. Mush mush mush.
Miguel can't help but grin. He does glance over to Allard and Ylsa. This doesn't
stop the grin. He's glad his sister is happy, finally.
Transom refuses to be distracted by Allard being domestic. It will only make him
start busting up with laughter and there is no question these two thickwits at
the table with him would misinterpret the humor. It's a struggle but Jack
retains his courteous expression.
Tess closes her eyes, and smiles faintly. After a moment, she stands, still
looking at Transom. "Ah really almost wish Ah'd been able t'give you an excuse
t'shoot me, Deputy. Ah think Ah would have liked that endin' t'th'story better."
Ylsa is completely distracted and has forgotten utterly about her original Quest
or her Quest partner or her brother who doesn't look like he's going anywhere,
and that damn deputy. She smiles back at Allard. "You are a very handsome man,
Rick. And thank you. I like it very much." Ylsa reaches up to feel it, just to
assure it is there.
Allard likes hearing this, very much. He basks for a moment, then decides to
take advantage. "So why were you drinking, hmm?"
Miguel decides this is the time to fetch coats and he turns away to do so.
Ylsa thinks about this. "Because Miguel is leaving me."
Allard blinks, several times, in succession. "Why?"
Transom rolls his eyes. Allard's conversation with his hot-headed wife is not
helping matters even one bit. Really should have taken a shot at his balls when
I had the chance. Dick has always deserved it and women are getting on Jack's
nerves.
Ylsa points to Miguel. "Because they are making him loco." They probably refers
to the persons whose coats Miguel is holding.
Tess sighs softly, and makes her way around the table to latch onto Transom's
arm. Tess is still drunk. We'll see if Transom will actually protect her life
and limb, or whatever it was he just offered to do.
Miguel grins again. He can't help it. He turns and speaks to Ylsa, rapidly, in
Mexican.
Allard starts laughing, looking from Miguel to his two hangers-on, and then up
to the ceiling. "I know the feeling," he mutters.
Lockett awakes from his nap with a loud snort. He blinks and looks around with
an aghast expression. Surely no one saw him snoozing like a babe. He sips his
tea, an action which is immediately followed by his spitting it out, probably
hitting a nearby patron. "Good God! It's cold!" He sets down the cup quickly,
looking at it as if it were poison.
Transom wraps Tess's hand around his arm pointedly, "Miss Elliot, I'm a rather
good shot. You wouldn't have been able to languish pathetically and get the
goods in any case." Escorting Tess towards the door where Miguel stands with the
coat, that Bargold smile makes a reappearance. This being nice is not so bad.
"Mendez, hurry or your lady is going to leave without you." Totally
indeterminate possessive pronoun.
Listening to Miguel, and nodding to him, Ylsa finally smiles and then turns to
Rick. "He says he stays until spring. What feeling do you know?"
Tess snorts faintly. "Ah'd have trusted y'enough t'do th'job right, Jack. That
would have been more dramatic than languishin'."
Transom pats the hand with the exact air of patronizing that someone.. say a
Mac... would, "Well, it's a good thing you have me to protect you from yourself
then."
Allard looks determinedly innocent, and glances over at the stranger (Lockett).
He aims a thumb in his direction. "Who's that?"
Stepping forward, Miguel sets the coat over Tess' shoulders and points out that
Transom needs to release down -there- so that Miguel can get this over -there-,
like that. Jack's coat hangs over Miguel's shoulder. He wears his own.
Lockett glances over at the now empty table where the love of his right-now had
been sitting. Disappointedly, he find that the young man has moved. Spying his
near the door doubles his disappointment. He's leaving, and with that slimy
Mexican no-less.
Ylsa doesn't know. She vaguely remembers smiling at him, which probably means
that she knows him. But she can't remember. Ylsa gets up and walks over to
Locket't's table. "Hello. Do I know you?"
Tess smiles sweetly up at Transom. "May Ah make a guess at th'second rule,
Deputy Transom? May Ah guess it's somethin' like, 'Never let a man patronize
you?'"
Transom uses his free hand to grab his coat and points out, "Senor Mendez, you
forgot my hat." He shrugs into his coat, with a smile of apology to the lady for
letting her sway in the middle of the restaurant, before recapturing her hand.
Allard blinks at his wife's back. Well, that's what he likes about her, right?
Tess has her feet firmly planted. She sways not. Except for there when Miguel
gets very close to her to place the coat over her shoulders, but that has
nothing to do with the alcohol she's drunk.
That's 'mexican' with a captial M to you, sir. The slimey Mexican turns to fetch
the hat. The one on top of the lady's hat. This is tossed to Jack. Head's up.
Transom glances down at Tess and starts laughing. He spares a look for Allard,
then Miguel, and then laughs harder. "Why yes, Miss Elliot." He captures his hat
neatly, "I could not have put it better myself."
And stepping forward, the slimey Mexican opens the door, to let Lockett's Love
Of Minute and his escorted Tess, out.
The hat gets slapped on Jack's head with a thud and he grins, "Shall we Miss
Elliot?"
Yes. Rick. This is what you love me for. Ylsa taps on the table, impatiently.
You. Look at me. "Hello?"
Tess makes big astonished green eyes at Jack. "Why, Deputy, Ah didn' think Ah
was your type." Let's.
Lockett tears his eyes away from the door and looks upwards at Ylsa. Registering
that she is female his immediately stands, causing his chair to rock dangerously
behind him. "I don't believe so, my fair lady." He extends his hand palm up, "I
am Nathaniel Edward Lockett The Third."
Allard stifles laughter. Ylsa in Belligerent Mode never ceases to tickle him.
Allard hmmmms to himself. The longer the name gets, the greater the chance of
retardation due to inbreeding..
Transom strolls off towards the road.
Ylsa looks first at the hand, then extends her own to let Lockett take it. Ylsa
has a hand-kissing brother and hand-shaking friends. She never knows what to
expect, but she can grab her knife almost as quickly with her left, if need be.
"I am Ylsa Allard." The obvious: "You are new here?"
Miguel hurries off towards the road.
Tess strolls off towards the road.
Allard tilts back on his chair, the better to see the goings-on at the next
table.
Ylsa indicates Allard with a wave (weave?) of her head, "He is Allard. Richard."
He probabaly has a number after his name too, but Ylsa doesn't know what it
would be.
Lockett accepts her hand and bows with a flourish as if to kiss her hand. He
does not however, make lip contact. "Bella Allard, I'm quite enchanted really."
His eye however is already roaming to her man. He interests him more. "Ah, You
brother then?"
Allard doesn't have a number, Ylsa. His papa's too noveau riche.
Allard waves mildly over at the man, when he looks at him.
Ylsa shakes her head, "Ylsa. Not Bella." And she grins at the question. Two
souls in Maddock could not look less alike, than Ylsa and Rick Allard. "No.
Husband. See, he is American and I am Mexican-Indian." In case this guy missed
that.
Allard speaks up, a little gruffly. "She's an Allard." And that's that.
Ylsa grins at Rick. Takes her hand back and the hand disappears within the folds
of her skirt. "My brother just left." He was the slimey Mexican who insists on
capitalization of proper nouns.
Lockett looks disappointed, then remembers to release the woman's hand. His eyes
sparkle with mirth as he looks back to Ylsa and nods, "Yes, Yes. I can see that.
Ah well, a good catch." He winks to Ylsa and picks up his hat from the table,
picking miniscule bits of lint from it. "Actually, I am new in town. I arrived
on this morning's coach." If he was a dog his ears would stand up straight, "One
of those men was your brother?"
Ylsa nods again, to Lockett, all but laughing. "Si. The Mexican man. Not the
tall one." Take the tall one. Away. Far away.
Allard peers at the man, and decides that it's time for him to butt himself in
this conversation. He stands, strides over to take Ylsa's elbow, and holds his
other hand out to Lockett. "How do you do. Name's Richard Allard. This is my
wife." Get the picture?
Lockett places his hand limply into Allard's extended hand. What does he
expect.. Allard to kiss it? "Yes, so your _wife_" He uses Allard's inflection to
repeat the word back at him, "Has told me." You sir are rude, can you not see
I'm conversing with your wife. He looks back at Ylsa and smiles, "I see, Miguel
you say? I really am terrible with names. But what of the Tall One? What is his
name?" Since you mentioned him.
Ylsa smiles. Widely. She might be drunk, but she knows what she sees and this -
yes. Jack Transom deserves this. At least. "Jack Transom." Ylsa says the name
very very very very slowly. "Jack. Transom. He is the deputy here. He works at
the Sheriff's office. He is here alot, at the restaurant. Sometimes he goes to
the saloon and he lives in the hotel." When he's not in back with my brother.
Ylsa thinks of any other information she can possibly give. None comes to mind.
Allard looks from Ylsa to Lockett and back again, absently rubbing his palm on
the material of his trousers and getting the very distinct feeling that he's
missing something.
Lockett repeats the name, letting it roll off his tongue with various
inflections and accents till he finds one that seems poetic. He smiles, "A
deputy you say??" His eyes widen as some unknown idea hits him, "You mean he
actually owns a pair of handcuffs?"
Allard gets it, abruptly. He almost says "Oh," out loud, barely catches himself.
But he does start chortling. Silently, of course.
Ylsa grins at Lockett. "Oh. Yes. Handcuffs and guns and I think he has a whip."
Ylsa has no idea, but she's worked the streets in Mexico enough to know what
this guy is and what he might like.
Allard stares down at the top of Ylsa's head, trying not to look too
flabbergasted. He had no idea she was up on the Marquis de Sade. Her knowledge
of the world continually amazes him. The possibilities, as they say, are..
endless.
Lockett squeals, "A whip? Oh dear that is too divine." He rubs his hands
together, his thoughts drifting lord knows where.
Ylsa smiles angelically up at Rick, who should know better, "And leather. He
likes leather. And ropes. I think I see him with a rope sometimes, no?"
Allard chimes in, seamlessly. Scary combination, these two. "Ropes, of course.
Not to mention the occasional horse-bit."
"The horse-bit. I heard about that and they found...Um...Chains in Miguel's
room, no?" Ylsa nods her head. Miguel is going to kill her. Slowly.
Allard nods, in perfect unison with Ylsa. Nodnodnod. "Yes, chains, that's right.
And I hear Transom does a mean hog-tie, working for the sheriff's department,
and all."
Lockett squealed before, but this noise is higher pitched, laced with
excitement. He pounds his chest as he feels a case of vapors coming on, "A horse
bit you say?" Even he looks just a tad but shocked. Still, there's always a way
to rain on someone's parade. "Chains in Miguel's.... Oh... your brother and Jack
are a couple then?" Disappointment at that confirmation clouds his expression.
Allard shakes his head mildly. "No, they're just friends." Right, Ylsa? "They're
both unattached." Right, Ylsa?
Ylsa shakes her head, "No." Decidedly not. "Miguel is just confused. He likes
women. I think that he was the only one that Transom could find, see?"
Allard gazes at Lockett kindly. "I think Transom would really appreciate it if
you'd pursue him. Make him feel wanted. You know."
Lockett looks to Ylsa, waiting with baited breath for her answer. He nods
quickly, anxious to grasp at any straw not matter how short that is handed to
him. "Oh, he likes women. Well then obviously we should find him one. That would
make Jack have to look elsewhere, no?"
Another nod, and the name, supplied: "Tess Elliot, the blond." Miguel is going
to cut Ylsa's heart out. With a fork.
Allard blinks a little. He had no idea the hanky panky that's been going on
under his nose. Shame on you, Miguel. Just don't get anyone pregnant, or Allard
will have to get upset.
Lockett stamps his hat onto his head and nods, "I shall have to set to work on
this immediately, your brother will thank me for it I bet." And I'll have Jack
Transom. Happy. Happy. Joy. Joy.
Allard's smile is all charm and amusement, now. "You do that, Mister Lockett,
and we'll all thank you. All we want is for Miguel to be happy, you know."
Ylsa smiles benevolently on Lockett. Yes, she'll have sore smile muscles
tomorrow. Ylsa -never- uses this set. "Si. We want Miguel to be happy."
Lockett nods his head up and down, clicking his heels together. "Well have no
fear then, my dear Mrs. Allard, Mr. Allard -" Did he steal a look at Allard's
crotch? "I'm your man." He teeters, "Or in some cases, your woman."
Allard clears his throat hastily, trying to stifle the laughter into a cough.
"I'll keep that in mind, then," he murmurs, and pointedly doesn't glance down at
Ylsa. He'd surely lose it.
Ylsa would never ever do this to her brother sober, but dammit, he's been a pain
in the ass lately and she's had I-don't-know-how-many glasses of rum. "Well,
good luck then, Senor Third."
Lockett giggles, but doesn't bother to correct the woman with his name, he finds
it rather quaint it fact, repeating it to himself. 'Senor Third'. Of course, he
slaughters the Mexican accent. He moves towards the door, taking off his hat and
waving it as if it were a hanky, "Bye now!"
Allard thinks this is rather clever, and he echoes Ylsa's salutation. "Hasta la
vista, Senor Third!" Grin grin grin.
Ylsa waves back, leaning against Rick. "Bye now." She slaughters the American
accent.
Lockett walks off towards the road.