HoE: S01 E03 Deane Mini

<Darkling> Fifty bucks to your name. Feels good to get paid, and on such a nice day too as you walk out of the Sheriff's office into the afternoon sun.
Deane stretches, cracking his neck and smiling. He slips the money into his pocket. "Damn this is a nice feeling. No time to rest though." He sniffs, and chews on his cheek, reaching into his back pocket for the picture. Another sniff, and he starts walking down the lane towards the Fox. Eager for answers, or at least a confirmation of the sinking feeling in his gut, he walks in carefully.
<Darkling> Not many people around this time of day. There's a girl mopping up the floors and a lone bartender cleaning up some glasses.
Deane sighs a little and heads for the bar. "Is information free, or would a shot of rye cover it?" He smiles daringly, not bothering to take a seat yet. In any case, he taps the counter. "Either way, I'll take a shot of your... cheap stuff."
<Darkling> The bartender gives him a look, but sets down a clean shot glass and goes for a bottle. "Information on what?"
<Deane> He sets the picture down on the bar, "Lookin' for a man like this, with a bit more gray and worn face. An old friend, of sorts."
<Deane> "Wouldn't've passed through here anytime recent, would'e?"
<Darkling> He pours the shot, sliding across the bar. "Two bucks."
Deane peels off two dollars and passes them to the man, taking the shotglass thankfully, "Thanks."
<Deane> He downs it, closing his eyes and biting back the groan, and opens them to look at the man for an answer.
<Darkling> The bartender takes the money and then picks up the picture looking at it.
<Darkling> "Mm. Can't say I've seen him b'fore." He sets the picture back down. "Why you looking for him?"
Deane sighs a little, "He's... He's a friend of my ma, and she asked me t'keep an eye out for him on the road. Real close and all." He plays with the glass a little and frowns, remembering that he just drank the shot, "No bad blood, if that's what yer askin'." He's lying, but he's keeping focused on the cup, biting his cheek to keep from blurting out anything important.
<Darkling> "I see. Sorry, can't help you, lots of people come through here and I can't keep track of em all." He pours another shot. "On the house."
Deane smiles and nods, "Thanks anyways friend." He takes the second shot happily, this time letting out a muted growl. "That's the stuff..." He steps back, slipping the picture back, "Oh- one more question. Know where I kin get tobacco? My throat's achin' for a smoke."
<Darkling> "Most anyplace has got em." He pulls a pack out from under the counter. "Ten bucks."
Deane blinks, and looks at his pocket. No time to be cheap. Walking back up to the counter he places nine on the table. Inspecting how many are inside, he places down the tenth bill. "Thanks again. Never be too careful, huh?"
<Darkling> The bartender smirks. "Best leave b'fore Scarlet catches you in here. I hear she's still none to pleased with you."
<Deane> "Still? Shit." He smiles a little and rubs his head sheepishly, "Can't blame her. Guess I'll hit up that other saloon for a room." Sighing, Deane makes for the door- no need to get that lady mad at him again.
<Darkling> You can see a few other watering holes along the strip, and some of the locals bustling about.
Deane makes to visit the others, now relying on his "silver" tongue to get information. Probably not the best idea, but a man's gotta learn about his pa.
<Darkling> Closest tacern to you is the Salty Lass, just across the street from the Naughty Fox.
Deane blinks and looks around before walking in. His pistol is in his jacket pocket, close enough to reach if something goes down.
<Darkling> There's a few more patrons in here, though rougher looking than you remember over at the Fox. You can't see the bartender, but you can hear someone behind the counter.
Deane takes a quick look around, and keeps heading to the bar. He sits down carefully, knocking on the bar.
<Darkling> You see a bald head pop up and shimmy over your direction, then with a hop a face is in view. "Oi! Whatcha want?"
Deane blinks, biting back his laughter and probably yelp of surprise, "Uh, shot of the cheap stuff, and information."
<Darkling> The bartender scowls. "We ain't sell information here. Just drinks." He reaches up placing a half spilled shotglass of cruddy looking stuff on the counter.
Deane sighs, "The information's more important than the shot. How much? I need a leg up on this one."
<Darkling> "That a joke?!"
Deane blinks, realizing, "Uh, no, the only joke here is..." he stops himself, and stands, "I'll let myself out." And he goes to quickly leave. This place ain't worth it.
<Darkling> "Good. Yer not wanted here!" his head disappears behind the bar as you leave.
Deane walks out, sighing, "Damnit. Useless." Standing in the street, he laughs into his hand and keeps walking down the street to the next one.
<Darkling> You walk for a few blocks until you reach Four Fingers.
Deane looks up, "Alright.. third time's the charm." He takes a deep breath and walks in, taking a look around.
<Darkling> Only two patrons other than the staff in here, but it is a much smaller bar than the last two you were in. It smells of hops.
Deane takes a deep breath and goes to the bar, "scuse me, I'd like a shot of your cheap stuff."
<Darkling> "Sure thing sweety." A black hair lass pours you a shot and passes it to you. "That'll be two bucks hun."
<Deane> He sets down three, "Thank ya kindly. Can I ask a favor of ya?" Deane sets the picture down, "You seen this man roll through anytime recent?"
<Darkling> She picks up the picture, pocketing the money with her other hand. "Hmm. Looks familiar, but I can't place it right now hun. Maybe if'n you tell me about him?"
<Deane> A little frown crosses his face, "Well... He loved his drink, loved his music and gamblin' even more. Type a man to take a loan from a friend and skip town. His hair's like mine, but longer and prolly grayer. He's got a wicked smile like the devil hisself, and a laugh like he's there to listen to you and nobody else. Probably got into a scuffle of sorts around here- prideful man, despite his...
<Deane> ...ways. Probably dressed nicer'n me: always dressed nice, even if he didn't buy the clothing." His eyes are closed, all of his information dredged up from a lonely woman in a cabin somewhere far away. When they open again he smiles sheepishly, "Other'n that, eyes like mine I guess. Not much I knew about him personally."
<Darkling> "Well, you've got kind eyes deary, I'd remember those. Still can't say I've seen him recently, but he does look familiar." She hands back the picture, and taps her chin thoughtfully.
Deane sighs a little and smiles, "Well, another shot then, one fer yerself if you're up for it. Name's Deane, by the way. Deane Williams. Don't think he'd mention me, be too much to hope for." He laughs a little to himself, frowning again as he thinks about what he's said.
<Darkling> She pours two shots, picks hers up and clinks it against his. "Cheers Deane." She downs it like a champ. "Name's Karla."
Deane taps his and puts down four, "Cheers." He downs it... less like a champ, and sets it down with a "tunk". "Nice t'meetcha Karla." He morosely looks at the shot glass for a moment and sighs, "Sorry t'bother you with all these questions, but d'ya know of a place that needs an extra set of hands from time t'time?" His words slur together a little bit as he processes the rye, and he keeps his...
Deane ...eyes on his glass.
<Darkling> "Looking for work? What can you offer?"
<Deane> He  frowns a little, "Honestly? Not much more'n hands for hard labor. Well, that, and this ol thing." He points to his guitar, "Picked up a few notes and strings on the road up here, but other'n that I'm not what you'd call... a skilled worker." A small smile, "It's fine if'n you don't- I've been doin' some bounty work anyways." He looks over his shoulder, looking to see if there are rooms...
<Deane> ...for rent in this place.
<Darkling> It's not a big building, but there's likely rooms above the bar.
<Darkling> "Well, if'n you're around and we need some entertainment for the evening, we can give you room and board." She pours two more shots, taking one and leaning down on the counter.
<Deane> He perks up a little, "That'd be nice. I'll pay for it, if'n the folk don't like my guitar." He smiles a little, reaching back, to pull the golden wooden instrument from his backpack. He takes another shot, shivering a little. "Although I should probably stop, affor it messes with my fingers."
<Darkling> "Nah, you look like you earned it. One more?" She pours the shot even as she asks.
<Deane> Smiling, he nods and takes it, "Thanks Miss Karla. I promise to do my best." He downs it, closing his eyes and setting it down. "Wonderful!" He chuckles a little, spirits raised quite a bit, and he sits back to fiddle and mess with the guitar.
<Darkling> She collects the glasses and wipes up the bar. "Think we might have an opening tonight, actually, if you're free."
<Deane> He stands up so she can get the part he's leaning on. "I'm good for that. Better'n finding another place to sleep, I reckon."
<Darkling> "Glad to hear it." A couple of guys walk in and head over to the bar down from you. "Guess I'll see you tonight hun." She heads off to tend to the patrons.
Deane watches her go, moving to find a against the wall to spend the rest of the time practicing- lord knows he'll need it.
<Darkling> ========END========