12:00am, Thursday
May 1, 1900
Thieves Landing, New Austin
Cato needed to get out of there, and fast; his life wasn't in danger - yet, anyway, who knew with places like these - but his livelihood was. A chance meeting with a pair of downtrodden, Irish moonshiners, the wheel of their wagon busted nearly beyond repair. had parlayed itself into a night of free drink in a sketchy, crowded saloon, and Cato parlayed that into well over fifty dollars in poker winnings.
Thieves Landing was a dirty place, generally -- the buildings rotting, infested and unclean, and much the same could be said of its inhabitants. Rats, most of them, either low-down scum pickpockets and killers, or the degenerates who made of a living of hunting those rats down for the government, or the rich. Every saloon was brimming with fights that spilled out into the streets and ended with a knife in the belly, or lead in the lungs. The few shops and inns between were more or less the same, influenced by the more-bars-than-beds strategy of town-building. The streets themselves were unpaved dirt which turned to awful mud in the rain, in a place where rain could be constant, heavy for a week at a time. The only source of light available were the multiple burning fires around -- some burning to keep folks warm, some burning by accident, some, simple cases of psychotic pyromania.
The two Irishmen - Mac and Charlie - winked at Cato from behind the bar; maybe it was his prior life of crime, but the ex-outlaw could tell they were up to something. Mostly, it was the fact that every single soul in Thieves Landing was up to something. But he'd had so much of their free moonshine, he couldn't even tell where his left foot was at the moment. At least he had a pair of Kings in front of him, a whole lotta rubes sitting around the poker table.
'Maybe I should be a good Samaritan more often,' He thought, chuckling to himself as he threw some chips into the pot, calling a prior bet, 'I spent all the damned day doin' nothin' but ferryin' Charlie to Armadillo and back for a new wheel, and puttin' on a new wheel, then they asked me to drive. Almost said no, cuz they couldn't pay, til they offered that free moonshine...'
"What're you laughin' at, pal?" A grumpy sucker of a so-called thief asked, over half his money sitting pretty on Cato's pile. He had one eye, almost no teeth or hair, but a whole lotta balls, "Don't say yer laughin at me, pal."
"No trouble, friend," Cato replied, calling another bet, "I weren't even gonna come here today, is all. Now's I'm sittin' here wit' all yer damn money, drinkin' for free."
"You think yer better'n me, then?" He asked, standing up in a hurry. Cato stayed sitting down, "You laughin' cuz I ain't had no luck here?"
"Naw," Cato said again, "I'm only laughin' cuz of those two potatoes tendin' bar back there, yeah? Coupla right fools. Woulda passed em by most other days. Just didn't this time."
"What're you even talkin' about, fella?" He asked, hand reaching for the holster at his hip.
"Do you want a drink, friend?" Cato asked in return, calling one final bet as he did, "Yer standin, yeah? You ain't in this hand no more? Go to the bar 'n tell 'em I sent you. Don't tell 'em you wanted to pull your piece on me, though, I reckon."
Cato switched between watching the dealer play the final card - an Ace, unfortunately - and the rowdy drunk who fancied himself some sort of pirate or something. But the offer of free drink seemed to diffuse the situation immediately. The one-eyed man shrugged, laughed, slapped Cato on the back in a merry acceptance, and trotted off to the bar to redeem the offer of free moonshine.
At the table in front of him, he nodded to his opponent who had pulled a pair of Aces on the final draw, scooped up his money and walked off before the drunk pirate wannabe could stumble back from the bar. The other poker players looked frustrated, but did little to try to stop him. The saloon itself was nearly shoulder-to-shoulder, packed tight, every person sweating from the accruing body heat, the swinging piano music, the voracious dancing from the giddier patrons.
Feeling his luck, Cato found an open spot at a table of people playing Liar's Dice, paid his fee, and sat down with a friendly nod to everyone there, saying, "Fellas" as he collected his cup and the dice, and got ready to play.
@Captain Cardboard @Red Gallade @Void_Nugget
May 1, 1900
Thieves Landing, New Austin
Cato needed to get out of there, and fast; his life wasn't in danger - yet, anyway, who knew with places like these - but his livelihood was. A chance meeting with a pair of downtrodden, Irish moonshiners, the wheel of their wagon busted nearly beyond repair. had parlayed itself into a night of free drink in a sketchy, crowded saloon, and Cato parlayed that into well over fifty dollars in poker winnings.
Thieves Landing was a dirty place, generally -- the buildings rotting, infested and unclean, and much the same could be said of its inhabitants. Rats, most of them, either low-down scum pickpockets and killers, or the degenerates who made of a living of hunting those rats down for the government, or the rich. Every saloon was brimming with fights that spilled out into the streets and ended with a knife in the belly, or lead in the lungs. The few shops and inns between were more or less the same, influenced by the more-bars-than-beds strategy of town-building. The streets themselves were unpaved dirt which turned to awful mud in the rain, in a place where rain could be constant, heavy for a week at a time. The only source of light available were the multiple burning fires around -- some burning to keep folks warm, some burning by accident, some, simple cases of psychotic pyromania.
The two Irishmen - Mac and Charlie - winked at Cato from behind the bar; maybe it was his prior life of crime, but the ex-outlaw could tell they were up to something. Mostly, it was the fact that every single soul in Thieves Landing was up to something. But he'd had so much of their free moonshine, he couldn't even tell where his left foot was at the moment. At least he had a pair of Kings in front of him, a whole lotta rubes sitting around the poker table.
'Maybe I should be a good Samaritan more often,' He thought, chuckling to himself as he threw some chips into the pot, calling a prior bet, 'I spent all the damned day doin' nothin' but ferryin' Charlie to Armadillo and back for a new wheel, and puttin' on a new wheel, then they asked me to drive. Almost said no, cuz they couldn't pay, til they offered that free moonshine...'
"What're you laughin' at, pal?" A grumpy sucker of a so-called thief asked, over half his money sitting pretty on Cato's pile. He had one eye, almost no teeth or hair, but a whole lotta balls, "Don't say yer laughin at me, pal."
"No trouble, friend," Cato replied, calling another bet, "I weren't even gonna come here today, is all. Now's I'm sittin' here wit' all yer damn money, drinkin' for free."
"You think yer better'n me, then?" He asked, standing up in a hurry. Cato stayed sitting down, "You laughin' cuz I ain't had no luck here?"
"Naw," Cato said again, "I'm only laughin' cuz of those two potatoes tendin' bar back there, yeah? Coupla right fools. Woulda passed em by most other days. Just didn't this time."
"What're you even talkin' about, fella?" He asked, hand reaching for the holster at his hip.
"Do you want a drink, friend?" Cato asked in return, calling one final bet as he did, "Yer standin, yeah? You ain't in this hand no more? Go to the bar 'n tell 'em I sent you. Don't tell 'em you wanted to pull your piece on me, though, I reckon."
Cato switched between watching the dealer play the final card - an Ace, unfortunately - and the rowdy drunk who fancied himself some sort of pirate or something. But the offer of free drink seemed to diffuse the situation immediately. The one-eyed man shrugged, laughed, slapped Cato on the back in a merry acceptance, and trotted off to the bar to redeem the offer of free moonshine.
At the table in front of him, he nodded to his opponent who had pulled a pair of Aces on the final draw, scooped up his money and walked off before the drunk pirate wannabe could stumble back from the bar. The other poker players looked frustrated, but did little to try to stop him. The saloon itself was nearly shoulder-to-shoulder, packed tight, every person sweating from the accruing body heat, the swinging piano music, the voracious dancing from the giddier patrons.
Feeling his luck, Cato found an open spot at a table of people playing Liar's Dice, paid his fee, and sat down with a friendly nod to everyone there, saying, "Fellas" as he collected his cup and the dice, and got ready to play.
@Captain Cardboard @Red Gallade @Void_Nugget