[Open] A Cowboy Needs A Hat

[Raksha]

READ MEShow

Howdy partner! This is an AU Just for Fun Thread! Anything in here is non-canon and consequence free! This is a place where you are welcome to post with one--or many!--of your PC's and they can also interact with each other.

This is meant to be a fun place to blow off a bit of creative steam without feeling obligated to post, or held to timeframes or events of the Thorns Universe. This particular thread is set in a Wild West theme, and yes, you can be as EXTRA as you like! There are multiple things happening in the Saloon right now. You can: Join the Poker Game (or already be in it), Have a Drink at the Bar, Listen to the Music or Play the Piano, Engage with the Lady of the Evening (no mature events will occur in this thread, so don't worry, it's all PG), Start a bar fight!! The choices are up to you.

It is 100% that EVERY TIME someone enters the Saloon through the swinging doors, the music will stutter to a stop and the room will go quiet and stare at the new comer, before resuming as though nothing happened.

There is one rule: All occupants of the bar must wear a Hat. Cowboy, or otherwise. You have been advised!

If you like, you may use your Writers Account to post for ease of keeping track of your people.

Summer
ALKRIMS SALOON | SOMEWHERE BETWEEN MORNING AND NOON

“It’s so hot, if a man died an’ went t’ hell, he'd wire home for a blanket!” The keep grumbled, wiping the sweat from his dark brow with the back of a rolled up sleeve, before reaching for a bottle of whiskey and pouring two fingers for the woman before him. She threw a coin on the bar top and picked up the mostly clean glass. Mahogany brown eyes met his own rich blue ones as she tilted the drink in his direction. He tilted his hat in return.

“Y’got that right Mister Alkrim.” The olive skinned woman said, before taking her drink with her, turning towards the room. It was the only saloon in town, with mostly clean wooden floors and a decently stocked bar. Round wooden tables with matching chairs dotted the ground floor, filled with folks of all creeds and countries. An old oakwood piano was located on the left of the room, where a small blond woman sat tinkling the ivories with a pleasant background song. A wooden staircase with a smooth banister led upstairs, where Mister Alkrim rented out rooms for weary travellers. The smell of tobacco, sweat, dust and drink filled the air.

“Dove, are you in, or are you planning on proposing to that drink?!” A far too elegant voice called from the table centermost to the room, belonging to a young man with dark curls and a chin known to make even the strongest of knees buckle. He wore a black hat with a sharp brim, and entirely dust free, clearly recently purchased. Sarinah smirked, adjusting her wide brimmed hat and walking back to her seat, spurs of her black boots clinking lightly.

“Keep y’pants on Mercucianno. Jus’ admirin’ that horse outside y’about to loose to me.” She chuckled, slipping onto her seat and rolling up the cream sleeves of her loose oversized men's shirt. Sipping the drink, she glanced at the rest of the table, raven locks cascading down one shoulder in uncaring abandon.

“So, who’s in then?”

From the piano, a pale young woman with white blond hair piled on her head leaned with one elbows on the top, her red dress all corset and ribbons and cleavage. On top of her well organized up-do perched a small red fascinator with a stonking great red feather poking out of the top.

“Why I do declare, play something with a little spirit Charity darlin'. Don’t you know, if a girl oughta work in this heat, might as well make it fun.” She breathed in a soft, southern accent, looking around the room for the most depressed looking fellow in the room. The pianist glanced up briefly from under a white bonnet style hat, smiling and adjusting her tempo.

“You got it Miss A.” Patting the musician on the shoulder, the woman moved away from the piano, walking through people with a sweet welcoming smile.

“Uh! Whiskey sour?! Who had the whiskey sour?!” A voice called over the gentle din, it's owner a wild mess of russet brunette curls and sable skin smattered with freckles, hands full with a tray of drinks. Over her curls barely sat a baker boy type cap.

“Oh aye! ‘Ere lass!” A rough voice called in return, hand raising in the crowd with poorly inked images of whales and anchors and other such nautical paraphernalia. The girl sighed with relief and moved to the sailor.

“Oh gee here you go ma’am, sorry for the delay, it’s my first day and it’s all so loud and busy and then the folks on table four asked for this huge order and honesty I think I forget about five things but Mister Alkrim is so patient with me and I get to help balance his books which is going to be just super because I want to work at the town bank one day but of course girls aren’t meant to be I'm gonna be out towns first female banker an—” The sailor shushed her, taking the drink with a finger to her lips.

“Less talkin’ more drinkin’ lass.” She chuckled, holding her tricorn hat with one hand and knocking back half the beverage in one long go with the other, hazel eyes following the red dressed woman with an appreciative wink.

“Not today Lacey darling. Mister Alkrim’s been fixing to throw you out after last time. Behave.” Athrym said with a chiding tsk, weaving a purposeful path away from the rowdy sea goer, flicking out a black handheld fan to flutter at her face and chest.

All in all, it was just another day in the Saloon. It was just a matter of time before trouble would walk through those swinging doors.

[Breaker Cooper]

ALKRIMS SALOON . SOMEWHERE BETWEEN MORNING AND NOON

The Saloon’s doors swung open and the bright sunlight was blocked, and a big shadow stretched out over the sawdust strewn floor. For a brief moment all sound seemed to stop, even the piano went silent, mid tinkle.

However when the large silhouette fully walked over the threshold revealed it to be a big man wearing a well tailored, though dusty brown suit and bowler hat, and he held a stout cane in his hand. His strong featured face bore a large waxed handlebar moustache the colour of tar.

As he swept off his bowler hat and shone a broad smile at the saloon’s patrons, as he did the light reflected off his gleaming bald bullet-like head and several gold teeth is his smile.

"Well ain’t this a mighty fine establishment, yessir!”

His voice was a deep rich bass with the long vowels of Texas.

"Howdy, my name is BB Cooper and I bring y’all not only a night of mighty fine entertainment, but also the chance of fame and fortune to boot, I tell you what!”

A number of the saloon’s patrons were watching this strange big man with mildly bemused interest.

"Yessir, I am the proud owner and proprietor of the BB Cooper Traveling Carnival and Prizefighting exhibition extravaganza!”

BB scanned the faces at the tables and bar and pointed the gnarled head of his cane at the handsome young man with the sharp brimmed black hat. A mischievous light danced briefly in the big man’s grey green eyes as he boomed his good natured challenge.

"How about you partner, are you man enough to face one of my champions in the ancient and manly art of pugilism!”

Then after sweeping the onlookers with his sparkling sea green eyes he struck a pose and then flexed his powerful arms, with a loud ripping sound the seams of his jacket gave way under the strain.

"Or dare any of you enter the sacred ring with me!”

He held the pose a moment longer for effect, grinned and then replaced the bowler hat on his gleaming head.

"If so then come seek me out, my troupe and I are camped just outside of this fine town. Or here where I shall be sampling this establishment's fine refreshments, yessir!”


He approached the bar and placed his large hands on its edge and leaned forward, smiling warmly.

"I’ll have one of you fine beers and a bourbon chaser, Kentucky if you have, thank you kindly.”