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Post by Patience Carrow on Jan 5, 2009 20:57:25 GMT -8
k o t a THIS JUST ISN'T ME! Patience, better known as Kota, was not exactly doing what she was supposed to be doing. The last customer she'd served had taken in one too many drinks, and had begun slurring his sickening pick-up lines, as he leaned an unshaven cheek against his mug. Now, what did this have to do with her neglecting her job? She'd set loose her claws once more, as always, when he pulled her into his lap and laughed something unintelligible in her ear. In order to avoid making a scene, she'd cassually stomped on his foot, as she rose and headed off to the kitchen. She could almost hear her boss screaching that she needed to be less violent with the customers. Almost. At the moment, her tanned forehead was leaned against the door frame, as she gathered her wit and prepared to march back into the main room to finish out the evening. Grumbling to herself, she glanced down at her attire. Groaning, she shifted self-consciously in the frilly black material that seemed to hardly cover the tan of her thighs, or the slight shift of paleness on her shoulders. She looked every bit a female, which she wasn't used to. She felt, by all means, uncomfortable. Her shoes, not those precious boots she covetted, were heeled, and hardly suitable for wearing, much less walking in. Turning, she peered into the small looking glass that the other girls had chipped in for. The rouge on her cheeks was atleast unnoticable. Her long curls hung on her shoulders, ringlets bouncing when she moved. Her large, almond chipped eyes seem almost innocent, not fitting the look of her attire at all. But then, how could it? She was a rider. A pants wearing, prickly pear of a halfbreed, and darned proud of it. She wasn't the kind of girl to flirt her way through life. Heck, she doubted she could even flirt. That was why this job was perfect. She was reaching beyond the normal, and trying something different. Even though it almost killed her.
Throwing her shoulders back, she pulled the top of the frilly black dress up, and peered into the dim of the saloon. It was dark out, so that was a plus. She could make it through the evening without coming across another drunkard. All she had to do was pick her customers carefully. But then, hadn't he looked easy going and honest? And after a few drinks, he'd turned into a mumbling idiot. Shrugging, she took a deep breath, and muttered "Come on Kota. Just get back in there. Think of the nice, long, silent ride home. Yeah. That'll give me somethin' to look forward to."
ooc; Eh. Thought I get things rolling. Excuse the lameness. Other posts shall be better.
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Post by Sojourner on Jan 5, 2009 22:17:54 GMT -8
It had been a long day, taxing both physically and mentally. There hadn't been any excitement, only dull duty. Perhaps it was a good thing that yet another day in Cahone had passed without mishap, but it only meant that Sheriff Jake Colburn had passed the time without anything to target his dogged, intense focus on. Many a lawkeeper in small relatively quiet towns such as Cahone became dulled and lazy over time. They lost their willingness to face challenges, sometimes began using their power and authority in frivilous ways. Jake meant not to lose his sharply honed skill and sheer willpower in such a way. He had spent the day talking to several of the townspeople, before riding out to check in on the mustang herd. The mustangs were viewed as being public property, and it was important for him to keep count of them periodically to be certain that there hadn't been any unauthorized activity taking place. Finding the herd had been more difficult than he had first assumed, and he had only just arrived back in town. The night had already enveloped the town, and the air was becoming chilly. The transient spring warmth never lasted very long after dark.
Deciding that he did not have the patience or the energy to prepare his own meager fare tonight, Jake guided his mount to the Crazy Wolf Saloon. He was not as common a patron of the Crazy Wolf as many of the townsmen were, but there was hardly a person in Cahone who did not recognize him immediately. Even if he did not eat or drink here often, the sheriff had carted a few rowdy drunks out to sleep off their spirits in the jail. He usually dropped by the saloon at least once a night to be sure that nothing got out of hand. Dismounting with the smooth ease of one who has done it throughout his lifetime, Jake tied his horse and stepped casually up the steps into the brightly lit saloon.
Pausing a moment as though to adjust to the sudden light and sound, the sheriff made his way to a table that caught his fancy for whatever trivial reason. With a few nods to aknowledge greetings extended by a few of the other patrons, Jake sat and released a long quiet breath. It was good to take a moment to be here not on a matter of business but as a patron. The food here was known to be hearty and good, something he craved after several nights of his own rudimentary cooking. He stretched out his legs beneath the table, waiting patiently for one of the serving girls to take notice of the patron who was yet unattended to.
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Post by Patience Carrow on Jan 5, 2009 23:02:47 GMT -8
k o t a THIS JUST ISN'T ME! As she moved into the main room, once more, Kota let her gaze rove over the place. A few servers seemed to be flirting avidly, so that was probably what most of the men were looking for. Growling under her breath, Kota shifted and threw off the hand aimed for her midsection. Swinging her gaze, the 'savage' side of her, as the patrons liked to joke, came quickly to the surface. "Two nights hasn't changed my mind McHarty!" The growl surfaced, as she propped her hands on her hips, each one wound into a tight fist. "You try that again and I'm gonna get myself fired!" A sharp whistle flew through the air, as his buddy snickered. "Ah, Kota. What's amatter? He didn' mean no harm!"
"Course not. I'm half savage. I'm s'posed to allow people to do that, right?" She shot back. Taking a glance toward the kitchen, she sheepishly put her claws away, as she caught her bosses dark glare. Stepping back, she sneered once at McHarty, and turned to find an unattended customer. Most of the people were being attended, so it took a minute to spot one. Not really taking in his appearance, as she naturally ignored in all men, she approached the table. The claws were safely tucked away, but she felt, more than knew, that she'd ticked off McHarty and his friend. But then, there were always two guys in the Saloon that caused more trouble than they were worth. That was how it always was. Kota could fault no one but them, and the rest of the white race for allowing their people to act that way. Lowering her gaze to the seated man, she took a breath and offered, "Hi. I'm Kota. What can I do for you tonight?" Gasping, she recognized the sheriff and raised her hands up as if claiming innocence. "Look. I dunno how long you've been sheriff, but I swear I wasn't tryin' to cause any trouble back there!"
She was so used to being accused, because it was easier to blame it on the halfwit halfbreed, than to lay the blame on a fellow white man. She'd only heard about this sheriff a time or two, so she couldn't really tell if he was as prejudiced as other lawmen were. Sighing, she offered "I'm just not cut out for this frilly female work..." She'd said it more to herself than anyone else. When she realized what she'd said, she clamped her mouth down. It was bad enough to be a halfbreed in these times. But it was even worse if you admitted to hating the things women were supposed to be doing. Flirting. Cooking for the husband. The basic 'Hi, hun. Hard day? I cooked dinner for you.' An ironic smile slid to her lips. Kota couldn't cook worth anything. Heck. She'd burn water if it was possible. Why were her thoughts jumping from subject to subject? They were likely to have her rolling with laughter, in that very unfeminine way she had about her. But then, Kota was her own person. This job was for the money. The other ladies...Well, most had a more...Open nature. That thought had her positively grinning.
ooc; Hmm. Ok. Had a bout of humor with Kota. She's more of a 'humor on the inside' instead 'jokes on the outside' kinda person.
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Post by Sojourner on Jan 6, 2009 5:40:53 GMT -8
Jake was leaned back in his seat, watching the goings on with a keen eye. It was late enough that several of the men had become quite obviously drunk. Most of the serving girls were entertaining their rowdy demeanors, playfully eluding them... occasionally even allowing the men to touch them. This sort of thing disgusted him, seeing many of the men he knew well reduced to such a level. Most of the serving girls wouldn't fare well after this either. They had the attention and admiration of the men now, but unless they worked particularly hard to seduce one of the patrons, they could well be discarded. They would not be considered 'wife material'. A sharp tone caught his attention, "...you try that again and I'm gonna get myself fired!"
He recognized her, having vaugely heard of her in the past and perhaps seen her on occasion. She was a halfbreed, reduced to this level automatically thanks to her indian blood. The other girls had had something of a choice... this was likely the only job she had been able to find. Jake couldn't her name, but he looked on as she stood stiffly, hands in fists. The men continued to taunt her until she turned away and looked the crowded room over. Rather than to wave to get her attention, the sheriff remained still. He was willing to wait a short time. The Crazy Wolf appeared fairly busy.
When she came over and introduced herself, he gave a nod. Just as he was about to tell her what it was he wanted, however, she apparently recognized who he was. Sheriff Colburn watched with a blank face as she threw up her hands and claimed innocence. "Easy," he said in his low tone, not very different from the tone he used with a skittish horse. It wasn't meant to be derogatory, it was merely habit. He would have said the same to any other. "I'm not here on business, though if I see laws broken I'll act." From what he had seen, she hadn't done anything aside from tell them off. He really would rather not interrupt his meal arresting anyone. "If you would, I could do well with a beer and a meal." The sheriff didn't drink often, and even though he partook in extreme moderation. A single beer was all he intended to have.
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Post by Patience Carrow on Jan 6, 2009 20:12:09 GMT -8
k o t a THIS JUST ISN'T ME! Grinning, Kota thingyed her head to the side and eyed the Sheriff for a moment. She already liked the new lawman, because the former sheriff had had no qualms with jousting her into a nice quiet cell for the night. She wasn't saying that the old Sheriff was prejudiced. Simply that he hadn't cared for the problems she ended up with. Nodding once, without a word, she turned and headed off toward the kitchen. It took a few minutes for the cook to make a plate, but Kota was patient enough with the kitchen staff. Swinging by the bar, she lithely snatched up a mug that the tender had just filled and headed back toward the Sheriff. She probably could flirt her way into a nice tip, but that just wasn't her way. That was why Kota didn't have regulars. She simply picked up whoever came. Most of the time, Kota was the one serving the older ranch hands that came in. Why? Because she absolutely hated being ogled. And, whether a girl was pretty or not, in this job, she was likely to get ogled. The older men seemed to at-least have a bit of dignity in them. They would joke with her a bit, but for the most part, didn't feel the need to get drunk or act like heathens.
Approaching the table she set the Sheriff's food and beer in front of him and sighed. "Here's the thing, Sheriff. I'm normally in alot of trouble around here. So you might be seein' me in jail alot." Shrugging, as if the thought didn't bother her, she continued. "I'm just forewarning you. I don't take crap from these men. If I'm not good enough to marry, then I'm not good enough to fool around with." Huffing, she folded her arms over her chest. She was not about to stand here and ruin the man's evening was she? Glancing back to McHarty, who was slumped in his seat, practically about to slide out, she muttered "I best get him in his saddle and send him home." Turning on her heel, she marched over to McHarty who apparently could hardly lift his head. "Come on. Let's get you home." She might have been disgusted by him, but she couldn't stand watching him shed his dignity because of a few worthless drinks. She hated prejudice, but that didn't mean she always had to have her claws out in defense. Hitching an arm over her should, she carried just a bit of his weight and groaned. "When you get home you need to scrub yourself." He muttered something unintelligible and she couldn't help but plug her nose with her forefinger and thumb. His breath wreaked of Alcohol.
It took a few minutes to get him in the saddle, but once he was up there, she took pleasure in smacking a hand on his horse's rump. The animal, obviously disgruntled, flew off, hoof slapping against the earth. Back inside, she marched back over to the Sheriff and arched a brow. "Anything you need before I go freshen up?" By freshen up, she'd meant 'rub the stench of dirt and alcohol off her shoulders and hands. "It'll just take me a bit to wash up, and then I can pay you more attention." She wondered if she should have said that or not. Did he expect her to flirt like the others, now that she'd said that? Would she be expected to wait on him as if he were God himself, just to keep in the good graces of the man who could lock her up on a whim?
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Post by Sojourner on Jan 6, 2009 21:46:20 GMT -8
Jake's cool gaze followed the girl who had introduced herself as Kota until she passed out of sight, off to fetch his food and drink. The sheriff took his hat from his head as though finally deciding that he would be staying more than a few moments. He set the hat down next to him on the table and rubbed his shortly cropped hair, loosening it. There was no doubting that he hardly smelled of rosemary and lavender. A full day of riding had left him somewhat grimy. He smelled of earth, sweat, leather. The combination was not altogether unpleasant... at least not to one who was intimately familiar with it.
When the food was brought out, Jake eyed it with the sharp attention of a coyote who has not had the chance to enjoy such a feast for some time. At least going by looks and aroma, the food here was just as good as ever. His actual enjoyment of the meal was delayed however. The sheriff found himself distracted by Kota's words. Why she felt such a need to justify and explain herself to him, he couldn't be entirely sure. But it was taking him away from his much anticipated meal. "You'll be put in jail if you cause a ruckus," he said briefly, without ceremony. "Though I anticipate that you may have some cellmates... I hold all those involved responsible." Jake was no longer looking directly at her as he continued, picking up the hunk of bread that had been provided and tearing a piece from it. "You're perfectly good for marryin'. These boys'll soon realize that towns like this aren't often bursting at the seams with proper southern belles. A place like this demands a strong man, and a strong man needs a strong wife to have a family in these parts." Nothing in his tone hinted that he was flirting. He stated these things as though they were facts, clear and dry.
Without further ado, he dug into the meal. While he did not have the most polished of table manners, Jake took his time consuming the food he'd been given. He did not make a pig of himself, scarfing it down as though he suspected that it might vanish any moment. The sheriff looked on as Kota saw after McHarty. She was an honest girl, going back to escort the man who had been harassing her moments earlier out to his horse. By the time she'd returned, he'd just about halfway finished. "I'm perfectly fine," he assured her. It was unclear what she meant by paying him more attention. He didn't require all that much. Jake's intention was to come, eat, drink, pay, and be on his way. He wasn't a complicated man in that regards... but it was this very nature that might well make his nature something of a complexity. He was not nearly so shallow as many, which often led one to wonder what he was like, if he were not like the others.
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Post by Patience Carrow on Jan 6, 2009 22:36:44 GMT -8
k o t a THIS JUST ISN'T ME! Nodding, she headed to the washroom. Well, it wasnt exactly a washroom, so much as a wash bin in a secluded corner of the kitchen. Once she'd managed to scrub away the stinch, she looked up into the looking glass and sighed. She wasn't cut out for this job. She was prancing flirt. She was the kind of girl that rose early, and went to bed late. In between, she would be the girl that rode hard all day. She could almost taste the pride that filled her, when she thought of the skills her mother's blood had given her. She had amazing balance on the back of a horse. She could work all day, through sweat, blood and tears, and still be happy with whatever meager portions she had for dinner. Even after a hard days work, before she came here, she had bathed her horse before seeing to her own needs. She remembered struggling to get her father's meager crops to produce enough for them to survive on. But with the three of them, food aside, they had still needed money for repairs to the cabin, medecine for her father, and material for clothes. Gritting her teeth, she clenched her fists tightly, and shook her head. She absolutely hated this. She didn't even have good people skills. So far she had probably annoyed the sheriff, caused trouble with McHarty, and had treated all with distrust and jumped to conclusions. She was someone who told you the blunt and honest truth. Not the person who, as soon as they walked through a certain set of doors, became someone completely new who could woo their way into anyone's graces.
Groaning, she turned back toward the main room. Upon entering it, she fussed with the top of her gown again. She didn't see what was so durned appealing about these frill dresses! She felt utterly naked without her denims on. Sighing, she snatched a pitcher off of the counter and headed back to the Sheriff. Only another hour or two and she could have a nice, quiet ride home. Stopping at his table, she offered "Would you like more beer, or a second plate? Cook's got talents tonight with that food, I'm hearing." She offered a smile, gudgingly, and it felt odd. She'd been told she had an quiet, delightful smile. But she didn't see how, since every smile she offered was forced. She didn't have anything to honestly smile about, save that she was surviving and providing for her family. Well, perhaps she did have on thing to smile about. The sheriff hadn't made one lame attempt at flirting. Perhaps their town had finally acquired someone worthy of wearing that star. Shrugging, she turned her attention back to him.
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Post by Sojourner on Jan 8, 2009 18:33:50 GMT -8
While Kota went to refresh herself, Jake took the opportunity to work at finishing his meal. He idly watched the comings and goings, most of it quite amiable. Overall, Cahone was a very calm and laid back town. Sure, there were some rabble-rousers, but for the most part things were pretty quiet. Several of the men didn't even carry a gun, though there wasn't a single one who didn't have a knife somewhere on them. Knives were essential tools hereabouts, and in a pinch they could be used in self defense. Of course, the same thing couldn't be said of the sheriff. Two colt pistols waited at either hip in their holsters, well-polished and ready in an instant. A shotgun was also prepared, strapped among his saddlebags. It wasn't that he didn't trust the people. However unlikely, if bandits or indians were to come galloping into town threatening to attack, he would be ready. It was his duty to be ready... for whatever might come whenever it came.
When the serving girl returned, asking after whether he needed anything more, the sheriff shook his head in response. "This does me just fine, thank you miss." He took out a few coins and passed them to her even as he took up his hat and pressed it back onto his head. "That ought to cover it. Keep what's left for yourself." It wasn't a huge amount, but he felt she deserved it. She appeared to be very hardworking and honest, if a little defensive. Her coworkers probably got more in the way of tips despite whether or not they worked harder, merely for allowing the attentions of the men. Jake stood, rising to his six foot height. "I've a word of advice for you. If it seems as though you might get into trouble with some of the patrons here, don't serve them. Sure, it may hurt your bosses' appreciation for you... but it'll hurt your chances more if you are the cause of something that lands the lot of you in the jail."
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