Children of the Dragon

 Drink forgotten and the hunger as well. Finn snarled "Listen here, and listen good. Becase this will only be said once. We'll say that your attitude brought this on, and I'am getting fed up with it. Not just you, there have been others." 

She didn't even bat an eyelid at that. Having heard far worse in her travels. No doubt this waif could take care of her self, if she were in any condition to do so that is. A fight was not what she wanted though.

"All I can offer is labour, anything else would end up costing you more than you could afford." She frowned afterwards though, realizing her threat could have used some work. It was off the top of her mind of course.

"Some of that brandy that's being carted about would do just fine." Know she was feeling peckish as well. The bar didn't seem to have anything laid out. "What's the chance of getting a bowl of whatever's on the stove? Or would that cost me my first born child?" Not that he would ever get that.

Finn turned her attention to the rest of the people. As further conversation with such a gentlemen would surely get her into trouble at some point.

Sage looked at Meri and nodded very slowly. Had he thought about killing her, about taking the four slugs to the chest and belly that he knew she could squeeze off by the time he got there? Had he calculated just how badly wounded he would be if he decided to shut her drunken mouth up once and for all?
No, of course not.
He was a legitimate business man, of course.
He was just a tavern owner.

"Yes, Miss. I would love to play nicely with you. And I'm sure it's just lovely to see you. However, I must insist one last time that this is the first time I've ever met you before and that you're clearly delusional, although more than a little persuasive in your assertions."
His brilliant green eyes blinked once.
And then a second time.
And then too the darkness passed from his eyes and he became the cheerful tavern owner once again, rolling his wheelchair around and helping Oila with the drinks.

"Girl! Uh... Barmaid, whatever the blue fuck your name is! Thanks for the drink, lass..."
He sipped his Daedric Brandy and blinked once or twice, then turned his attentions to the waif who wanted a tab. A tab. Of course she had every intention of paying him back when she came into money, right?
Oh, the buckets of hilarity.

"Uh... yeah, sure, tab. But if you're going to be tabbing it up, try to keep the expenses down, hm? Because what I don't get from you in repayment, labor, or raw, dirty sex, I will take out of your kneecaps."
He smiled pleasantly.
"So what can I get for you?"  

When she noticed someone approaching Finn pushed errant strands of hair away from her face. Just so she could see actually. Whatever hair style she used to wear was a thing of the past. A brief smile appeared, and seemed to brighten her face considerable. It vanished just as easily as it appeared.
The scent of something alchoholic assailed her senses.

"Shwa... just what I wanted. I'd like a drink. I... uh... crap. I never mind." Her face fell once she realized the last of her money had been used to distract a pack of wild 'things'. "Sorry. I'm broke. hmmmm. Wait! Could I ring up a tab perhaps?"

Oila found the Daedric Brandy. It was just as her new employer had explained. She grabbed it and a clean glass as he requested and came back just as Baron made his request for two new drinks - one for him and one for the man he was...talking to. She nodded to him, but gave Sage his drink first.

She overheard the gunslinger reply to Sage, and for a moment raised an eyebrow at the albino. A wan smile flitted across her face, and she returned to Baron and his talking companion with their drinks, even though the other had said he did not want more.

She felt tired and hungry. For a moment, she wondered if Sage would mind if she had a little of the cheese in the kitchen. Her stomach made a suddenly, and embarrassing, rumble. A blush immediately tinted her cheeks, and she scurried toward the young lady forlornly looking out the window.

This is like all of them. Terra had stolen six cigars from the cabin. I was still smoking one of them.
"Thanks." Great, now I feel bad.
Finn sat at the bar, occasionally glancing down at the Cohibas. The drink that she had wanted forgotten for the moment. She pocketed the remaining cigars. Just because she gave them all to her didn't mean they were hers.

Finn took a moment to glance around once more. Now that she had had a chance to catch her breath. She felt instantly out of place. For starters. People... more than she was used to actually. This coming from a big city girl even. Of course it had been awhile.
She whistled low and turned about in her seat to get a better look at the place.
It didn't look that bad.
Cozy even. Even if she looked a mess. Still sweaty, and face flushed from the mad dash away from the cabin.

"Ugh." She knew from experience that she had looked worse than this before.

 Terra, stood by her sisters side. She patted her sister on the head, before ruffling her hair.  it was still damp with sweat, so it stuck out even more now. "You're too tense at times." She was still feeling exhilarated from the mad dash away from the cabin. How as she to know the owner was going to return when he did? "I figured you needed the exercise, and excitement."

Finn glowered up at her sister and spat. "Is that why you've been dragging me across the world? I can't believe the shit you've been pulling." She sighed, and took a drag of the cigar before passing it back. "I'd rather be back in Thailand chasing demons." That was meant to sound normal. Like an everyday thing. Go down to the corner store and grab some milk, a newspaper, and find a demon possessed transexual.
All in a days work.
She took a look around, a quick glance. And sighed. It was better than nothing. Atleast there were other people this time around.

"I hate it here. All these places smell like sweat... and... ash." She scrunched up her face at that last scent, and realized it coming from the both of them.
She was tired from running, and her throat was parched. "and i hate you." she whispered knowing full well she could hear her "What I need is a drink." With that she turned to face her sister, and tossed the duffel at her. Knowing she could catch it without trying. "How 'bout you find us a room... since you're so good at it."
Terra blinked at that, taken a back she started to say something insulting, but paused. Instead she just smirked. Maybe she wasn't soft city kid after all.
She took her sisters duffel, and exited the room, but not before giving her a couple of the cigars that she had stolen. "Just don't drink to much. 'Cause I sure the hellI ain't gonna carry your scrawny ass out of here for ya."

She tried not to blush, but it came anyway. It wasn't because he was a good looking man talking to her, but how he looked at her. Oila folded hands in front of herself, and tried not to act too bashful.

"Oila, Sir," she replied to Jacob as she took Baron's money. A glance to the young man was all she did in thanks for the tip. She could tell he was trying to keep polite...

...though it didn't seem to last long. She was about to suggest something that might ease the tension when the gunslinger suddenly made herself loudly known. A deeper blush hit her fair skin, and she fearfully looked at Sage, her new employer. She looked for any sign that he might be angry, and his calm tone to her only made her think he was. She nodded and quickly left the room to find what he wanted.

Did he give her booze?
He should have known better. Now he blamed himself for allowing the gunslinger access to alcohol. He knew damn well what a mouth she had on her, particularly when she was drunk, and while she wasn't there yet, she was soon to be. And it hurt her that he had ignored her. This girl who claimed to have no feelings whatsoever bruised like a peach and now the pain was coming out through an alcohol soaked mouth.

He rubbed his chin slightly.
Perhaps he could handle things one way... keep ignoring her rants, pass her off as a drunken crazy woman. But no, she'd get more beligerent and that would simply not do. That would end in a dead gunslinger, or perhaps a dead cripple if others took up a fight against him.
And contrary to popular belief, he didn't want her dead.
Yet.

He looked up at Oila.
"Uh, serving girl-person-whose-name-I-don't-give-a-shit-to-remember-right-now, go get me a snifter of Daedric Brandy. Room temperature. I keep it under the serving glasses in the cabinet to the left. Thanks."

But his eyes had only glanced up at her. For the most part his eyes had been trained on the gunslinger, as though afraid that the rabid ferret of a woman would pounce if his eyes strayed from her.
Proof to anyone who knew either of them that yes, he indeed knew her . All too well.

"The issue is not whether or not I remember a woman that I've shared a bed with, as many of my memories are altogether too vivid and real. But I remember being in beds and even remember the Fallen."
His eyes dimmed. He didn't want to remember this tonight. He was getting angry.

"How badly you must have loved him. In a way that you would never admit, even to yourself, that when he died, he just brought your heart with him. And so you may have shared a bed with a cripple in a past life, Miss, and perhaps he was as dashing and dapper as me, but sharing a mattress doesn't matter as much as sharing your heart, so as long as you want to dig into the past, perhaps you're interested in discussing why you don't remember how badly the pain tore you when you finally opened up to someone and then he died on you.... again."

He settled back in his chair.
He was just trying to chase ALL of his customers out tonight, wasn't he?

He leaned forward in his chair, the elbows resting on the arms of the chair.

"Or maybe.. just maybe... not everything is about you. It's possible that I make decisions in life about what degree I acknowledge people based on decisions that have nothing... at all... to do... with some chick with a gun or two."

Her mouth opened to say all she wanted was the food, but she clamped her mouth shut again since he was being generous. Oila hadn't expected to be hired permanently. But if he was willing to give her a room...

"Thank you," she replied, not wanting to say she wasn't sure how long she'd be here.

She small hands wrapped the apron aronud her waist, showing that she did indeed have a figure even if she looked waifish and breakable.Her dress wasn't short, nor was it too long to not show she had a decent pair of legs. In fact, if it weren't for the skittishness in her kalidescope eyes, she was attractive. She didn't have as ample a bosom as Sidda had had, but it was good enough. The mention of showing her cleavage made her blush slightly.

Moving behind the bar, she quietly walked up to the two men at the bar. The was a tension there that something might break out. She quickly grabbed Baron's glass of melting ice and dumped it clean. She refilled it with ice, and refilled it with whatever it was he had been drinking. She had noted the bottle when Sage had served him. She gaze quietly for a moment at Jacob.

"Sir, would you like more wine?"

She was used to tension. She had walked on eggshells her entire marriage. But that was over, and she knew how to handle some sort of tension.

Right now, the Preacher and the Gunslinger seemed content in conversing and watching the possibility of a fight. She would tend to them soon enough. Both had a bottle, so it wasn't like they needed something right away.

She had noted the beautiful young woman, and hoped she wouldn't feed the small fire that had been lit between the two at the bar.