Chapter One: A Stirring Breeze

Doc

When he came home the place was a shambles, the town nearly abandoned. Determined to reclaim his prize jewel the old man rounded up a few of the remaining unsettled souls and set about rebuilding. Thoth had apparently detected his return and, knowing what the man had just been thru offered his assistance in the form of more souls to use.... and protect.

Nearly a year had passed since then. The orginal town is nearly complete. Doc Holliday used his own might and magic to do the work to the Oriental himself. Summoning his shadow minions to do the heavy work. He was, at the moment, setting up a new desk in his office where he once conducted the daily business of running the four story marvel that was his home. The place offered a bit of everything to everyone. She was an inn that gave shelter to gods and goddesses, soldier and merchant, traveler and homeless. She was a tavern that offered food and drink from across the multiverse to please even the most fenickey hunger. A gambling hall that offered up more ways to win and loose a purse than any one den in Sigil. And then there was the 50 foot steel dome Cage with only an iron door that alowed entry for the hopeful and exit for the victor.

The light from the Spire shown bright across the Outlands this day, reminding Doc of those long ago days in Georgia in the summertime. Later he would have to ride Aries down to the lake and start rebuilding his shack... after stopping off at the General Store for enough stuff to make a new hammock.

Outside a gentle breeze begins to stir, blowing random colorful sheets of paper thru the streets.....

Red

Red pushed through the double swinging doors of the Oriental. Her boots echoed in the near empty room. It had been a long time since she'd entered the place, but it felt like home. She let a little smirk touch the edge of her lips.

Anyone home? she called out. She heard a grunt of effort and followed the sound. Easily slipping past the bar she marvelled at how clean it looked. There ain't a nick or scratch on it.

The sound of wood scraping along the floor pulled her attention back and she rounded a corner to find a man bent over the edge of a desk pushing it into place.

Not much changes around here, Old Man, she called out to Doc. He'd saved her hide more ways than she could count back in Sigil and it pleased her to find him still kicking around the old haunt.

Clara:

Outside, some colored paper blew past, herlading the arrival of two rather massive and fuzzy creatures softly padding their way down the street. Atop one of them is a rather small indivdual sitting sidesaddle, covered up by travel robes, the hood pulled up. The two Owlbears stop at the same time, allowing the rider to slide down off it's back to the dusty ground below.

With a wave, the creatures amble off as she pulls her hood back, uncovering the petite gnome. The warm rays of the sun shine off her small reading glasses as she looks around. With only the faint swishing of the ample-sized dress under her travel robe announcing her, she steps towards the nearest building that appears to be an inn of some sort. 'Oriental' she sees on the sign as she opens the door and steps inside.

Doc

That voice sets his senses to tingling....
Memories flashed through his mind, snapshots of what once was....

A war in the streets of Sigil.... his friends had gone to the City of Doors looking for him...
He had gone.... for what.... he couldn't remember....
He remembered the fighting, he remembered a face... the face that went with that voice?
Blue eyes.... Red hair....Red....

Doc looked to the figure standing in the doorway to his office and grinned his half-grin, "Well now. Look what the wind blew in. Welcome back Red, it's damn good to see you again."
To see her face, to say her name brought back more vague memories. Memories of Red manning the bar on the bussiest of nights with a grace and ease that was unmatched...
and.... if he remembered correctly, she could hold her own when the patrons got too rowdy....

Then, like a snake it hit him.... pain like someone jabbing a needle into his temple.....
He reached up and rubbed the area and grumbled, "Blast it.".
He hadn't felt that pain since he wondered back into town and saw his prize jewel in shambles and decay. Doc glanced at Red and sighed, "Sorry about that, I guess even old age will eventually catch up a vampire eh?".
The pain left as quickly as it had arrived and, as soon as he could regain his composure he thought to ask, "So, are you planning on sticking around or are you just passing through?"

Keshayla and Kivan

It came as a rift in the sky, a great tear in space and time that angled sharply at a slant. The edges curled backwards like flaired skin, all of the colors inside the loft of the O.K Corral bleeding together at the edges, twisted and marred as the crackling electric charge caused hay to sweep across the hard packed earth and the hairs to rise on the horses. The beasts stomped their feet and whinnied, spooked with nowhere to flee, and resorted to banging on their gates in defiance to the disturbance, while showing the whites of their eyes, noses flairing. The charge gave one great crackle before spewing it's burden within.

Two shapes fell, tumbling out with cries that had been cut off from where they began, landing with gasps and 'oomphs' with the impact of their arrival. The darker shape hit the hay stack on his stomach; his black kakadu satchel landing on his back which released a grunt from the surprised jolt, but instincts had him strugging in the hay in an attempt to find solid ground. He coughed from the thick dust and bits of straw that danced in a cloud around him, neck craining to watch the rift for signs of anything that may have tried to follow through.

The second shape didn't land so lucky. Her yelp cracked in pitch before she hit the water troft, sending a rush of water to fold around her and over the sides of the wooden bin, splattering across the earth floor to mix with hay, shit and horse snot. What didn't fall out engulfed her as it fought to flow back in it's place. She coughed and spluttered, struggling to sit up and out of the water, straining to hear or feel for signs of their persuer. Finally sitting up, Keshayla blinked the water from her lashes and pushed the mane of wet auburn hair from her face.

The rift flexed, causing the pair to tense before it slowly began to knit closed. The crackling began to dispearse, and soon the only evidence of it's existance was the two mercenaries who were a little worse for wear. They blinked, before looking at each other, and finally settled on a smirk. "How's the water?"

"I don't think I'm the only one who uses this swimming hole. I'm pretty certain I just swallowed a bug."

"Horse snot."

"As charming as that thought is, I think I'll stick with it being a bug."

Vincent

There was a certain irony in the downstep from the carriage that the vampire took. First of all, he was a vampire out in the daylight. He credited the ability to a combination of a heavily woven cloak, a wide brimmed hat, and the bat that had made him. The second irony is that there was the clink of spurs from his boots, but he had no horse to call his own. He thanked the owner of the carriage, and past across two paper dollars.

One kitten, a little orange tabby, slept soundly in his pocket, whereas Azriel, one of the twin American shorthairs was mewling hunger. The other of the pair, aptly named Parrot, was on his shoulder, more curious than anything. Bits of soft jerky were given to the mewling monster in his pocket, and then the quiet one on his shoulder.

He tipped his head up long enough to spot what looked like a hotel, and then tilted the hat back down. The sun burned his face and he was already tired. He blinked tiredly; he hadn't fed in some time, and it was getting to him finally. A lick of his lips, and then he clinked up onto the wooden deck, then jerked his head to the side.

Reality felt...torn. The sky warped, and then there was yelling. There was a corral not too far away, and it seemed to be the source of the ruckus of splashing, yelling, and spooked horses. Despite his heavy weariness, he clinked and clunked toward the corral.

Red

I'll be stayin' long as I'm welcome. She gave Doc a hard look. Been on the road a while and it'd be good to put up my feet. Need a hand with that? Red gave a nod to the desk as the older man pushed it into place. Don't want you hurtin' yourself.

Before he could answer, Red twisted back towards the way she'd come in. Sounds like you've got customers. Do you mind? A quick smile played on the girl's lips as she eyed the bar eagerly. It seemed like years since she'd last poured a drink.

Keshayla and Kivan

The Drow rolled, tumbling out of the loft of hay with the strap of the kakadu at his shoulder, making sure to take his prized belongings with him. It would have been the greatest pain in his flawless backside to try and climb back into the mess if he had to retrieve anything. Luckily, the bag had landed on him, instead of tumbling off to the side where it would have likely ended up in Narnia. He climbed to his feet, brushing himself off with a distaste for being gritty, but that ever growing grin on his face, flashing perfect white teeth surrounded by the ashy dark of his skin, was proof that they pulled off another of the impossible. "Still have the skin of your teeth, love?"

Keshayla had to take a moment longer than Kivan to move. Her landing hadn't been nearly as soft, a fact she currently growled out. Litterally. The sound rumbled quietly through the room as her partner dusted himself, causing the horses to show the whites of their eyes and double their efforts of escape. "Oh, piss off!" She snapped at the creatures, resting her hands on the edges of the wooden troft, and lifted. Water rained out of her torn clothings, causing the swill she landed in to swish and ripple, discolored by mud, blood, and darker things that she didn't have a name for; and was looking forward to scrubbing off. To Kivan, she spoke, "I'm afraid to look..." and spat shortly after running a tongue across her teeth, as if checking. Kivan offered a hand out, clasping his partner around the wrist as she did the same, and pulled her from the water to stand dripping besides him.

There was hay in his hair, which caused her to smirk, and hers was currently plastered from the wet, the slight curls weighted down as they continued to run rivulets down her arms and back. "You look like hell."

"Sweet talker."

"I suppose we cannot exactly go unnoticed now, can we?"

As if noticing for the first time, the Lycan blinked and looked up, turning around in place to get a good look of where they were at. "Huh... How the hell did we get inside a barn?" She tilted her head to the side, then began to ring out her hair, grumbling quietly under her breath as she eyed Kivan's state, then compared it to her own. It always ended like this... it wasn't fair.

Markie

It was hard to miss a rip in the fabric of space and time, especially to a mage. The young woman looked up from her small garden behind the clinic and sighed softly to herself. There never was a 'normal' day here, but it seemed like they'd been getting a lot of new faces recently. Well, might as well go see who it was. Besides, the day was getting warm, almost too hot to be working outside anymore, so she might as well go be friendly down at Doc's.

With a soft grunt Markie rose to a stand, pulling the kerchief off of her head and letting her blonde hair shake loose. She dusted herself off and went inside to change out of her gardening clothes and into her 'town' clothes, before throwing a wide-brimmed hat on leaving through the front.

Markie had been in town for perhaps a few months, or what she thought was a few months. Time was a little different here than what she was used to before, but she was ajusting well. When she'd arrived, Doc was working hard to rebuild a town that she'd learned had once been his pride and joy. And it felt fitting, that she had ended up here, and so lent her own skills to the effort, and had claimed the role of town healer in the process. It felt good to use those skills again. Rewarding, in a way her soul hadn't felt in a long time.

As she passed down the street, she canted her head at the sight of the man in heavy cloak approaching the corral. The air around the stable there felt off, where the energy of the rift lingered, but it didn't stick to him as well. Perhaps a recent arrival who happened by at the same time? "Howdy," she called out to Vincent, waving with a sunny smile under the shade of her hat. "New arrival?"

Doc

The horses within the corral smelled the predator, could sense what the woman was or at least the beast within her and that scared them. They bucked against their stalls, stomped and whinnied. All them.... except one. A black mustang showed no signs of fear, if anything he seemed aggitated that his drink had been interupted. He stepped to the two intruders and nudged, first the woman then the dark skinned man, towards the barn doors, huffing his disapproval.....



Meanwhile...

Doc chuckled and shook his head, "No thanks darlin'. I think I have this desk right where I need it. Besides I'm too ornery to let a desk get the best of me." He heard the swinging front doors and glanced at the clock upon his office wall. He nodded absently as Red turned away, asking if he minded. He followed her out into the common room as he slipped his shoulder holster back on, "I suppose you'll be needing a room. I added a couple of floors to the place but you can still have the pick of the bunch, except for my room of course. And before you mention it, yes I will give you a small raise on top of your previous pay... as soon as I can recall what that was."

The man was feeling old... old but good to see things suddenly snapping together. He looked to the figure standing within the doorway, and gave a slight nod to the newcomer. He then turned toward to the hallway that lead towards the back of the building and gave a quick shout, "Belle!!" Which was answered by the sound of pots and pans crashing to the floor from somewhere in the back. Doc winced. From the same direction came an irrate and very feminine voice , "Damn it Doc!! You just made me drop the frakkin' pot rack!!" The sound of a door swinging open down the hall and a swish as a iron skillet comes flying out into the common room, "Now who's going to help clean this mess up?". Doc side stepped the flying skillet, "I'll help you clean it up just quit throwing!! That stuff aint cheap ya know!! Now come out here and meet your new manager and show her were everything is at.."

Just then the ruckus at the corral could be heard in the distance which caused Doc to stop and look towards the window. "Blast it all to the hells. What's got them all riled up..."
he began to grumble as he made his way towards the swinging doors, pausing at the coat stand to grab his duster, hat and gun belt. "Red, look after our guest would you? I have to go see what the fuss is all about.". With that he stepped past the gnome and out onto the veranda giving his eyes a brief moment to adjust to the bright light of day before heading out into the street.

He spotted two figures near the corral. One he recognized as Markie, the healer that moved into and reopened the old clinic he had built for..... who?
The other he did not recognize at all and assumed that it was this figure that had the horses upset. He picked up his pace a bit and came up behind Markie, "What in the hells is going on?"

Clara

The gnome, Miss Clara, blinks at the sudden rucus from inside the doors that sounds somewhat like pots and pans flying through and colliding with solid walls and the ground right before the large imposing figure of Doc brushes past her out the very door she was stepping through. She pauses to look back at him as he heads to the commotion at the corral. She dismisses the distraction as part of the local 'scene' and continues inside the Oriental.

Pausing just in the doorway, she looks around at the various furnishings and decor. She takes the break to remove the dusty travel gloves off from her regular black lace gloves, leaving those on. Seeing a figure at the bar, she makes her way deftly around the rest of the furniture towards it and the lady behind it.

Keshayla and Kivan

At first, all Keshayla could do was blink. The horse nudged her and she stumbled forward a few steps, rather taken back by it's approach. Horses were scared of her. Hell, cats, most dogs, sheep, cattle... a large variety of creatures who could sense a preditor shied away from the Lycan because of her wolf, even if she made no signs of aggression toward them. She was so used to animals giving her a wide space that to have one voluntarily nudge her was a shock. Even Kivan the Drow could only blink before he was nudged towards the door also. "Apparently we are not wanted."

"Where the hell did you drop us, Kivan?!"

He patted Aries on the nose, a sort of friendly, 'good dog' kind of way that was proof that the Drow wasn't too thrilled to have such a beast so close. Maybe he smelled the hay all over him and mistaken him as walking food? He did have good chompers on him... "Uhm... I don't know. I spun the dial and jumped us. We sort of had an issue that wasn't giving me the luxury of marking our destination."

"Perfect," she muttered, wringing out her shirt to let the heavy drops of water rain down on the hard packed earth beneath her feet. She sighed forlornly at her shoes. "May the Gods rape you in the ass, Kivan... these were new shoes."

"You wanted to wear them in."

"You're the reason I can't have nice things."

"No, the reason you can't have nice things is be-" He stopped when the Lycan snapped her eyes towards the closed double doors off to the side, a hand lifted to signal silence as her nose flared wide, testing the air. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck and arms rose to attention, signalling to the Drow just what she was smelling. Vampires, two of them, and another being, female, smelling heavily of magic. Instincts put the Lycan on caution, and she had to swallow the growl that was threatening to rise out of her throat and reach the ears of those outside.

She watched the sun stream through the cracks of the barn door, dust drifting lazily between the beams, which flickered in and out of sight again as the three at the other side approached. Vampires made her uncomfortable, and with the situation the pair had just escaped from they were edgy, looking a little worse for wear, though alive. It was still difficult to keep from scanning the room around them for the sign of their persuer, a creature that had no voice and made no sound; the perfect preditor who frightened both of them. That wasn't an easy task.

Kivan waved his hand through the air at an angle to catch Keshayla's attention, followed by a series of quick hand signals. Calm down. Take a breath... He was right. So she dropped to sit where she was standing, watching the others approach. They didn't know where they were, and first impressions were important, getting on the defense would naturaly make others assume that they had something to hide.

Finally, in this case, they didn't. "I think we can strike Kansas off of our list."

"Ah hell, Kivan! Make another Oz refrence and I'll slit your throat..."

Markie

She turned and smiled as Doc approached. She had a fondness for the man; he had, in effect, given her a second chance at life. She was about to answer him when Keshayla's sudden change in demeanor caught her attention. With furrowed brows, the young woman looked back to the barn, and cocked her head. "There's someone in there..." She blinked, and concentrated harder on the energy around and within the building. "No...there's two someones in there..." And one was highly on edge...

Vincent

He glanced up to the woman who approached him initially and gave a faint smile from beneath the brim of his hat. For being in the effectual desert, he was mighty pallid, or at least, that would be the second thing she noticed aside from his almost unusual dress-down. He wore a good deal of leather under that heavy cloak of his and that signed two things: money and willpower. She simply had to assume that he was melting under all that...or that was his assumption of her thoughts.

A faint nod was given to her inquisition as to whether he was a new arrival, but his attentions shifted back to the corral where there was a bit of noise, even though she'd distracted him with her pretty face. His shoulders hunched however, when he felt another vampire approaching. He licked his lips, turned to look just as Doc Holliday himself approached, asking the woman beside him what was going on. Vincent turned his eyes back toward the building without introducing himself. An olden part of himself wasn't happy with that, but by the noises he'd heard and the telling that there were two people inside, someone could have been hurt...

That same nod was given to Doc: courteous, respectful, but also temporarily apologetic. He stepped onto the planks there, and then pushed inside what he assumed was a barn, his eyes not needing any more than a second to adjust. Two were there; one smelled odd to him, and he didn't recognize it at first...and the other looked odd, though he couldn't place why at first. The sudden realization hit him so hard that his head lifted, revealing his face to the pair as the racial identities came to him. "Wolf, Drow, I have no quarry. I merely seek to ensure th-...your safeties. Quite an entrance, no?" With a voice like chocolate sandpaper, hecho en Scotland, he inquired.

Red

Red grinned from ear to ear at Doc's proposal. As she slid behind the bar there was an obvious spring to her step. Not only had she returned to the first home she could remember, but here was a new start with a new job. If only Jacob could see her now.

At the thought of her brother, Red's smile faltered. It had been months since he disappeared and she was still no closer to figuring out what had happened to him, but she didn't have time to linger on the thought as a pan went flying by her and crashed to the floor.

By the gods! she exclaimed and ducked. It was then she noticed the small woman who had entered and Doc's backside leaving through the double doors. She'd best get busy.

A woman shuffled out of the back, the kitchen Red presumed, wiping her hands on a well worn apron. She looked a little haggard and weary, as if she'd been cleaning for a week. Glancing around the place, Red guessed that wasn't too far off. The place was immaculate.

Beer's there in the barrel, wine's down below in the cellar. Glasses get rinsed here, dried and put up underneath. Rest of the bottles are stored there, behind the bar and extras are in the storage room, she sighed. Find me tomorrow and I'll show you 'round the rest.

Without a glance back, Belle disappeared back into kitchen leaving Red to fend for herself. She looked at the older woman who'd just entered. Ready or not, here goes nothing.

Red put on her best smile, grabbed a nearby rag and slung it over her shoulder. What can I get ya, ma'am?

Clara

Miss Clara looked up as she approacjed the bar and answered softly. "Tea, please. Iced, if you have any. It is a little warm outside." Once she reached the bar, she reached up to set her travel gloves on the bartop before begining the short climb for one of her stature onto a plush barchair. Once she's up and can see Red properly, she smiles patiently to her as she reaches up to check her hair for loose strands.

Doc


The mustang could not believe this, with the other horses going into a frenzy and the predator actually just sat down.... Aries huffed and stomped his hoof in disapproval. Then they sensed it, another predator approaching. A mare near the back of the barn collapsed, dead from fright. Aries rolled his eyes and nudged the woman again....


Doc walked past Markie as his guns appeared in his hands cocked and ready, "Thanks for the warning, I wouldn't get too close though." He heard the new vampire make some sort of comment and sensed the Lycan inside, "Shit." He could guess what was going to happen so he stepped around where he could see everyone. His brow furrowed slightly when he saw the dark elf and almost cracked a grin when he saw that Aries was trying to politely remove the Lycan from her sitting place.

He felt the tension in the air and drew down on the Lycan and the vampire, "Now I certainly hope you folk have not come to New Tombstone with it in your minds to cause trouble. I would rather make accomodations for you at the Oriental than in Boot Hill. But I'll leave the choice to you."

Keshayla and Kivan


The pair blinked in the sudden exposure of bright light; Kivan ducked his head, lifting a hand to cover his eyes and turned around with a startled sound; the sun burning his sensitive retnas. It was Keshayla's hand shooting up and snatching his forearm that kept him from stumbling over, also reassurring him that so far, things were... well they weren't much worse at least. Of course, the moment she realised she was sharring a barn with a freshly dead horse, looking up at a vampire with a pair of guns she wasn't quite certain about that. Paired by another vampire who could have a large assortment of questionable weapons beneath his heavy attire, and a woman who simply sang power was starting to cause the hair to rise at the back of her neck. She was quickly leaving her comfort zone and entering defense again.

Aries nudged her again, and this time she reached up, tangling her fingers in his hair and used him as leverage to climb to her feet; since she was a little off balanced with the way she was gripping Kivan's arm. The horse didn't seem at all bothered with her, not even a stomp, though she heard his sigh as if he were rolling his eyes at her. "Wanna know where glue comes from?" She muttered at the beast, pushing him back with one hand to see how he liked it; yet ever mindful on those blocking their path at the doors.

"Hiya." She said, addressing the trio for the first time. If she was bothered by the guns aimed at her, she certainly didn't show it; making a show to dust herself off and then her partner, who still was forced to avert his tightly closed eyes. She snatched up his bag and pushed it against his chest, where the Drow pulled out a pair of black shades from memory and slipped them onto his face with a greatful sigh. "Trouble only happens on Wednesdays, and we're above our quota so I think it's safe to say you and yours will be good for quite some time."

Kivan dropped his hand on his partner's shoulder, gripping it tightly to signal her to simply shut up, knowing that she was starting to smirk. And when she smirked there was always trouble that really wasn't her fault. You couldn't pick your family, and she inherritated a grin that was notorious for causing mischief. He shoved the bag into Keshayla's hand to keep her distracted, making sure that the heavy side hit her in the gut, successfully clearing the disaster off of her face. "We are just passing through." The Drow spoke up, offering a sheepish smile as if he were slightly embarrassed. "We ran into some unexpected difficulties, and we were dumped off course. Seems my partner and I were Jumped inside your barn... in Tombstone, was it?" Keshayla's brow shot straight up, and she blinked again several times, looking behind her to the hay, the water, the horses, the barn, the hay again... then back to the trio at the door. This time she smirked before Kivan could stop it, and knowing this, he settled with a long, almost dramatic sigh.

Vincent


Now Vincent was the kind that was distracted by a pretty face now and then, but it was, of all people, the wolf that caught him harder than he could remember having been caught since his mortal days. He saw that smirk of hers and knew what line of blood she came from easily. He'd crossed paths with a few wolves before, and a vampire didn't live so long without learning a thing or two about the ones that hunted them, more often than not.

His head swung toward the vampire with guns drawn and lifted a brow, "Indeed, no trouble t' be made, right?" His eyes drifted toward the drow and the pretty wolf and he grinned. It was that irritating, yet infectious roguish grin. When all seemed agreed, he licked his lips, tipped his hat.

"Name's MacLeod, Mr. Holliday. Your records precede you. Fine town y'have here; hopefully not too aptly named. Y'lowin' guns here'n town or is there a place I should check'em?" Carefully and slowly, he pulled back the heavy cloak, revealing the heavy, back-loading Colt .45 Longbarrel and the decidedly smaller Colt Single-Action army...and the heads of two mewling kittens that had thus far been hidden in their pockets, unlike the well-named kitten Parrot on his shoulder. That one was stoic, just sniffing the air in the direction of each new person, without ever making a sound or movement otherwise.

Darius


The silence was broken, by a sound akin to a skin being stretched across a
frameto make a drum. A hot wind carried a torrent of peculiar grey sand
forming a curtainat the edge of town.The man in blue stepped through the
curtain and walked downthe street with a slow steady gait, and stillness
followed him.

He approached the Marshall's office, giving the billboard of posters a
cursory glance. The blue stranger checked his silver pocketwatch then
looked to the town clocktower.

"Eleven Fifty-Eight?" he queried to himself aloud.

The Minute hand clicked forward twice in rapid succesion.

"Ah, I was mistaken."

The silver-haired man, clad in blue, continued his slow steady walk to
the town saloon.He opened the doors to The Oriental and stepped inside.

Doc


'Want to find out why the really call it -puppie- chow?' Aries wanted to say. He may be a horse but he still had a brain. Of course he could smell the predator within her but she did not come at them with claws flying so he did not believe she ment any immediate harm. At least not until the dark elf sighed.... that got him to re-thinking the situation. Aries tensed enoughed so that he could rush to his riders side if a fight broke out...


Well now, this was doing nothing to ease the tension he smelled in the air.
This MacLeod had introduced himself, which was fine even with the thick accent. What unsettled the old man was the fact that MacLeod called Doc by name. Was this vampire here to try to make a name for himself? On the other hand he was at least offering to check his weapons in.... The dark elf seemed honest enough about how him and the lycan happened here..... The lycan though.... something felt...... odd, out of place....
and she looked like she was about ready to pounce.....

"MacLeod, how about all three of you hand your weapons over to Miss Markie here. Then we can stroll over to the Oriental for a drink, maybe get your kittens some milk, the dark elf some elderberry wine and the Lycan a nice rare steak." He looked to the dark elf and the Lycan and grinned, "While we are at it maybe we can figure you two a way home if you're in a hurry to leave. If not then you will all be welcome to the grand re-opening tomorrow night." He glanced at each of the newcomers and slowly uncocked his guns, "What do you say? Markie.... would you be kind enough to take their wares to my office please?".

Markie


She blinked from her perch at the doors, honestly surprised that he had chosen her to collect the weapons. But Markie smiled pleasantly, nodding her willingness for the task. "More than happy to." She turned to Vincent first, turning her charming smile on him since he was the closest, and had volunteered to disarm himself. "Mr. MacLeod, if you would..." She smiled brightly at the sight of the kittens, and even laughed gently, a sound of pure joy. They were adorable. The perfect counterpoint to the dark, mysterious air that he wrapped himself in with that long cloak and broad hat. She would have to ask him later if she could hold one.

It was a curious collection of new arrivals that had come in, seemingly all at once, and on the edge of her awareness she felt the signature of magic as the other appeared at the edge of town. Rifts and portals always caused a shiver to creep down her spine, creating a mental sensation that was akin to hearing a badly squealing wheel. It made such jumps troublesome at best for her, and usually just one left her with a splitting headache for the rest of the day.

Red


One iced tea comin' right up, she said with a smile. She grabbed a glass from a shelf and looked about for a pitcher of tea. There it was, by the corner. She poured the tea, careful not to spill any and looked about for the ice. She didn't know how they kept it cold enough to hold, but sure enough, there was an ice box. She used an ice pick to knock off a few shards and then handed the glass to the woman.

There ya go, ma'am. Spreading her hands over the bar, Red took another moment to marvel and the craftsmanship. It was exquisitely handled. Not a bur or scratch or mark on it, like it was brand new. But it isn't. Or least, it wasn't. Things change, she told herself. We'll, most anyway.

As she admired the bar, Red took stock of her customer. It was rare to see such elegance in the Oriental. She noted the careful way the woman settled into the chair, checked her glass before drinking from it and then dabbed the corner of her mouth. She had an air about her that Red couldn't quite put a finger to, but she found the woman intriguing.

So, you from these parts? she asked.

Just then, someone else walked through the swinging doors pulling the girl's attention.

Clara


Miss Clara gladly accepts the cool glass of tea and takes a dainty sip before pulling out a lacy handkerchief to wipe the edges of her lips with. She shakes her head slowly, "No ma'am, I am not from this area."

As she is looking around the large room from her vantage point of the high barseat, her attention is also drawn to the sound of the door opening. Her only reaction the the man dressed all in blue's entrance is to slide her glasses higher up the bridge of her nose before picking up her glass of tea and taking another sip. She looks back up to Red, waiting patiently for her to do her job and take care of the new arrival before continuing her conversation.

Vincent


Vincent turned back to the woman he'd met only momentarily and informally a few seconds before. He licked his lips and gave another respectful nod to Holliday. It had been a little brash to come into town, claiming that he knew exactly who John Holliday was, but then that was what gave him the thought to immediately offer up his guns. He wasn't, afterall, here to make a name for himself. If anything, he wanted to blend into the scenery, though the requirements for him to dress in to allow for daylight travel didn't exactly allow for that.

He turned that infectious grin on Miss Markie, that winning smile making an olden heart puddle bit by bit. "Now, y'see, Mr. Holliday, with a grin like tha' on yer side, I'da never 'ad a chance." A faint smirk crawled across his lips as he went to working his gunbelt loose. When he finally managed to untangle it from his cloak and swung it around, it was revealed to have been storing a blade as well, against his lower back, a lengthy dagger that seemed out of its place in time. Pale hands with lithe fingers half-hidden in cropped leather gloves offered forward the gun belt to Markie

A pleasant sigh fell past his lips and he allowed the cloak to wrap him again, before he had a sudden though. "Ah, yes. If you would, madame," he scooped the kitten on his shoulder into his hand and bent at the waist, drawing a mighty nasty looking hunting knife from his right boot. "I think tha' abou' does i', save for wha's out with me luggage." Another lick of the lips, a habit he hadn't kicked in centuries. The knife was given a small toss, flipped, so that he seized the broad side of the blade, and the handle was offered toward Markie beside the belt that held his guns and dagger.

"Not in town a whole ten minutes, an' 'Doc' Holliday' 'imself is offerin' meh a drink. How dooo you do..." He grinned to himself in a slightly different way, though not sinister in any sense. "I accept, though, Mr. Holliday. The lot of us are weary from our travels, and tha' sounds fantastic." His new smile passed from Doc to Markie, and then he turned toward the wolf and the drow, still smiling and half-hoping they'd accept as well.