Barter Town

[Nose_Meat]

Jazz stared at the loud imbecile with a sadistic sneer, her canine teeth pointy an d sticking out from her lips slightly. She didn't accept the wink, but she didn't disregard it either. She was used to hem, but back home she would have him executed. Maybe she would kill him anyway, she hadn't decided. The preacher looked in the direction of the brash individual and she could tell he either didn't understand him, or didn't know what to do. For a brief second Jazz felt sad for him; the dripping in the back of her brain covered it quickly.
"That's a pretty silly form of entertainment. He poses no threat to anything. The fight wouldn't last a few seconds if he were lucky."
She caught the glance of Gabriel after she said that,and she looked away from him quickly. Jazz had never been afraid of anyone so harmless looking.....maybe it was those eyes, maybe if she didn't act like she noticed him he would leave her alone . The group started shifting down the main street, following the ebb of the mindless chants toward the arena. She could smell the blood above all the other fetid smells among Bartertown. The sky had since grown to a dim blue-grey, and the streets were now lit with torches, small children slaves lighting them with oils and sticks, burning their small hands as they did so. The chants grew louder, more menacing. She grew nervous and she bit the inside of her mouth in habit. Ira behind her didn't help either, she didn't trust him, nor did she like him. She cradled her M 16 in her chest, holding it ready.

The chants grew into a dull roar, and the darkness at the end of the street was broken with a violent white light of old search lamps on scaffolding. She couldn't see ahead through the throng of mangy bodies, but she knew they were almost there. The dripping grew to a constant flow..and Jazz smiled.

[Kings Anointed]

In shock Gabriel looked around him he'd never been called a murderer before and to be judged by these less than righteous people seemed to rock him to his core. His intent was not to kill the raider but to protect his disabled Ira friend and the woman. Apart from the battle over New Zion Gabriel had never harmed a soul in his whole life, much less kill them. "God, no what have I done!?" Shame swept over him at that moment he nearly hit his knees he felt so weak. The shout of the crowd was chanted in continuous succession was, "BATTLE DOME, BATTLE DOME, BATTLE DOME!" The crowd had almost a demonic aura of pleasure at seeing him being condemned to fight in this arena of theirs. The idea of having to fight in order to survive agreed with Gabriel but he knew in this place there would be many "challenges" being he could see nothing was straightforward in this place. Gabriel was almost woozy from it all. He shook his head and recomposed himself hearing "Francisco and Ira call out to him for him to get his "dirt farming preacher butt" over to them. Gabriel grabbed his walking stick to steady himself and made his way toward his friend Ira and the group with him.

Along the way voices on all sides would laugh at and mock him trying to cast fear into him, "You're going to die in the battle dome pretty boy." Others saying,"Dead preacher walkin!" Others would just spout profanities at him and laugh. Gabe's spirit was indeed winded but, not by them. By his own brash actions. This place was having a strange affect on him and exacerbating his already newly fragile psyche. In the past few day, Gabriel suffered the near loss of his whole community. Many of his friends from childhood and respected members of New Zion were taken in the rebellion against the invaders. Invaders who were nothing more but looters and rapists behind masks and armor. His heart ached within him over having to bury so many people then having to leave those who survived in order to bring back new inhabitants to repopulate New Zion. This is the most stressed Gabriel had ever been. He didn't blame what the others did for his actions but he blamed himself for letting these events turn him into a murderer.

After what felt like an eternity Gabriel found himself in the company of two he came here with. First was New Zion's "savior" whom without they'd still be subjugated known as simply Ira. A good man in Gabriel's eyes who well may be rough around the edges but, is simply and obviously a man who's had a hard life with which he's doing the best he can. Then Francisco whom Gabriel truly found him to be the most disgusting man ever birthed by woman and allowed to remain living by God and had lead us to this godless cesspool of sin and degradation. In addition to Gabriel of this trio, was now this new comer whom Gabriel knew nothing of just that she looked human at least on the outside and was the most beautiful well endowed woman he'd ever seen. Even more so than Aaron. Gabe would simply say, "Hi" to her in a rather depressed and bewildered tone contrary to his normal self. He didn't even know what was normal anymore. He only knew God must have a way out or reason for allowing him to fall into this situation.

[Dreamer]

The sun outside hid behind the horizon and cautiously slipped away with slumped shoulders. The air cooled and light breezes danced into the dirt streets throwing dust clouds into a swirling dance of delight. The darkness of the night crept into view with confidence and a smirk. The stars burned dark with passionate light winking down in terrible glee at the unkempt, unclean town. The streets began to filter out leaving only the most dangerous, most offending individuals as the population searched for a small blissful escape from their personal hells that they called reality. Most of them could be found scouting taverns. One of the largest, loudest, robust tavern this night was that of the Blind Archer's Inn. The walls were grimy with caked on dust from travelers, but the earthen floor was swept relatively clean by voluptuous wenches, spilling tanned expansive amounts of skin up over the tops of their poorly fitted corsets. The tables were chunks of gnarled tree trunks, and the chairs were barely stools, but the bar was a long grand smooth surface with a wide lip to accommodate dancers and kept a steady flow of ale. The only light source in the dim tavern was from tall wax candles proudly glowing on top of each table and the embers of the Blue Dirt smoke sticks, but it was a pleasant dim, an intimate embrace of the flickering shadows. At the center of the roughly made tables was a round raised thick sanded pedestal that could only be a poor man's stage. The pedestal was surround by unlit pillars of candles all in different stages of melted and drooping as if tired from being over used. They seemed to be waiting for something, pleading for the touch of bittersweet flames to engulf them in a heated haze. Behind the bar were men and women of all shapes and sizes with plastered fake smiles waiting on customers while they dragged a chain from their ankles connected to the bar, and their aprons were stained and smelled of unwashed sweat and horses. Small children ran orders from the kitchen in the back to the bar and to the tables receiving an occasion box on the ears from displeased customers.

A set of stairs led the way towards the Inn part of the establishment, up, up,up winding creaking wooden steps up four flights towards the workers floor. Each door had heavy pad locks weighing down the cheap brass handles facing the open hallway. A large brute of a man with meaty fingers, a pot belly, balding head, and the dirtiest, bloodiest apron of the whole tavern pounded commandingly on a slightly splintered door. Under the pressure of his fat fist the door creaked in a moan of protest. "Girl! I said Girl! Get ya' shit together, ya on in ten minutes! Get your ass in gear this time or I'll have Ethan drag you out nekkid again! SO help me Girl I swear I will!" the chunky tavern owner boomed in demand voice and then stomped his chunky way down the steps that squeaked and cried in pain of his weight. " Might do it anyway," He muttered," got better business that night...." His voice trailed off into grunts and shallow breathes of exertion climbing down the stairs.

The Girl sat in her humble room applying a brush to the mass of fiery fizzed curls that fell in cascading waves down to the arch of her smooth creamy pale back. She did not flinch at the pounding fist anymore, and she no longer screamed to be released but that did not mean that had stopped fighting. The poor gentle oak of the door held scars from her ceremonial daggers and the bruises from her heeled thigh high boots. Poor gentle oak did not deserve the torment she unleashed upon it and seeing it reflected in her small ,sad, cracked mirror now she felt apologetic and regretful. Sighing softly she carefully gave her tangle of curls one last defiant brush. She adorned herself in her most splendid attire. A white bell sleeved choli top under her emerald green half vest that matched her long flowing spider silk full circle skirt. It displayed her smooth stomach in all it's moonlight paleness, and she added her coin scarf for a little flair. She glanced once more into the cracked mirror and pinched her cheeks til they glowed rosy with the illusion of health. She bit down hard on her lower lip til it became swollen and red for that just kissed smirk. She wore no trappings of jewelry except for a mirrored hair pin to capture and secure her wild hair away from the budding rose brand on her neck, the brand of her tribe. She carefully traced her lower eye lid with the pointed charcoal to enhance her wide, soft brown doe eyes. She grabbed her daggers and she was ready to perform.

[Toneh]

Ira stayed behind as he waited for Gabriel to come to his side, in order to keep a better eye on him. But that girl’s words stung Ira a little. “Interesting?” He snarled as he balled an armored fist denoting that he was considering hitting her. “My friend can get killed and there isn’t shit we can do shit about it and you find this interesting? You peace of shit.” Ira said before jerking away and started his forced limping walk down the dusty rode. It was getting dark. It had also been a very long trip, and he was very irritable, so maybe Francisco’s suggestion of getting a drink was not so much to ask. While he could sit here and explain to Gabriel what was going on, Ira figured he could at least amuse him self by surprising the man later on. Hell maybe the surprise would get his blood pumping enough so that he could muster some sort of defense against what ever he was going to have to face in Battle Dome.

“Gaberial, you stay at my side at all times!” He said angrly at him. “Now lets go get a room and something to eat.” He said as he limped through the streets, his single eye locked onto Francisco’s back as the less maimed man easily cut through the busy streets of the twilight engulfed city.




--------

The group would arrive at Blind Archer's Inn with little trouble. Upon arrival Ira would promptly rent a room for the group, as well as managing to afford the meals and drinks, and female attention by forfeiting what seemed to pain him to part with. It was the medal he wore on his armor. It was a silver lined blue shield.

Francisco having left first would arrive first. Ira would hobble over and sit down.

The Crowd was a mix. Raiders, workers, men and women from all walks of life carried on very loudly. Ira summoned over a service slave, the woman was battered, and had a look of sadness in her eyes. She would look at Gabriel with a pleading look, but them an would receive a sharp glare from Ira hopefully forcing the preacher to say nothing.

Moments later there was a fist full of blue dirt on a plate in front of Ira. Ira unfastened his helmet, and dropped his mask down to his chest, revealing he had a head of un-brushed and unruly curly dark brown hair. HE had a single functioning eye, the right having been sealed permanently, it baring a deflated look of injury. His face was boyish, while he was roughly 23 year old, he looked to be nothing more then a child. Black bags hung over his eyes, and his olive skin was riddle with various scars. Ira sat and began fiddling with his gun, stripping various parts off of it, emptying the chamber and placing everything into his helmet. “You can order what ever you want, that fat fucking bar tender gave us a room for the night and everything we could want for my medal…I would take my kindness.” He said snapping a rather cranky glare to Gabe. “It meant a lot to me.” He said calmly.

Ira then began packing the loading chamber with the blue grainy dirt. He flipped his gun over, and placed his mouth on the barrel. Ira then took his personal lighter, and ignited the dirt. It light up into brilliant orange embers, filling the room with a mint smell. Ira then began inhaling deeply.

[poonwrangler]

Those hips swayed to the sound of bad music. “Slave! Drinks for me and my family!’ Francisco shouted. Bare breasts hung into his face, as lips caressed his neck and throat. She moaned softly as she straddled Francisco who sat nonchalantly on his chair. Ira and Gabriel by this point would all notice the naked slave girl who was grinding and kissing all over him. The woman was perhaps only 16 years old. She had to be of Caucasian descent, but was surprisingly beautiful and clean with her flowing brain hair, and fierce green eyes. Her body was slim yet muscular, so it was no surprise when that the beautiful girl was clearly owned by the bar for entertainment reasons.


“AAAAAH! The famous Ira is human!” Francisco said. He said as Ira took a deep puff of blue dirt from the barrel of his rifle. Francisco smiled, but had his eyes barley opened as he leaned back and allowed the young slave to pleasure him. “Whoa preacher man!” He said holding a gloved fist up out of respect. When Gabriel sat down Francisco would snap his fingers. Another young girl, wearing nothing but a loin cloth would submissively walk up and commence to giving him a message. “Don’t worry playa…it’s all on me.” He said smiling as he reached out and took a drink from off of a server’s tray. The glass was stained and rank, but the clear liquid smelled much more fowl.

His free hand began caressing the ass of the slave girl pleasuring him, and he took her into his embrace. “So Ira…Ira what? What is your last name? Fuck it, I have to know, Are you Serious.”

“The Preacher man here, I know he is serious, but you…just seems kind of fishy to me.”

Francisco, not taking his hand off of the slave, would reach out to take the gun from Ira and hit the Blue Dirt himself.

[Kings Anointed]

Largely ignoring much of the goings on within the tavern, Gabriel sighed softly at the table with his head hung low and neck being massaged by the female slave which was something he detested. He hated that people here were enslaved like property. Though he remembered in the Old Testament that people were sometimes slaves. He still didn't care for it especially when they were treated worse than dogs on the street for the pleasuring of wicked men. It made his heart sick. Then the fumes from Ira's "Blue Dirt" narcotic. It'd been days since Gabriel's last long talk with God. He attributed this fact to his rash choice he made earlier. His eyes were momentarily fixated on the woman fornicating with Francisco, then to the man himself. Gabriel for one second wished the stone had missed the raider and hit Francisco but then he dismissed the thought. Enough blood had been spilled needlessly as it was. A whole town had been devastated in a few hours and many of it's inhabitants lay dead many of them taken too soon from this world. "I'll have wine if it's good."
He spoke up and also ordered, "a steak, sirloin, medium well if that's available, If not I'll have bread. That way I can do self communion and ask God to forgive me for what I did today."

Gabriel then hung his head again sighing. The woman's hands were pleasing to his soar muscles. He hugged himself and closed his eyes tight for his heart was truly sick and his mind was in tatters. He looked to Ira for a moment who'd shown his face and the man looked like a one eyed baby faced angel with scars all over his face. A man appearing younger than himself, but as Gabriel was aged beyond his years due to the hardships of life. Gabe then looked down again waiting for his order to be filled. When it was brought to him by a child his heart welled again. "God loves you my child. And you will be free one day." He said to the abused, dirty, and fowl smelling boy patting him on the head softy with a weak smile. Taking his wine, Gabe was slightly taken by surprise by the child's reaction as he swung at Gabe then apologized to him and ran off toward the kitchen again to fill another order. "This place needs Jesus in doses that I'm not able to supply Ira... These people... It's like, Sodom and Gomorrah the story in the book of Genesis from the Old Testament of the Bible only worse..." Gabe drank his wine and broke his bread. He prayed God's forgiveness and strength, and for God to touch this place, the people in it, and especially those in captivity of others to be treated as the precious one's God sees them as. "In Jesus' name, Amen." Gabe knew this would ruffle feathers or spurn on mockery from any one watching, but he went on regardless.

He blessed and gave thanks for the wine and bread reciting the Lord's Prayer then when finished he ate and drank a small portion. At that point he realized the woman's hands had stopped moving and her mouth was agape watching him. "Bread?" He tore a piece from the loaf that he'd blessed and gave it to her. She'd never met a man like him before. And likely never to again. "God forgives and loves you Miss. You no longer have to serve me but, I would be honored if you stay and finish the loaf and wine with me Miss... What's your name again?" Gabriel smiled kindly without any other motive other than to show kindness. He indeed felt restored and like the weight on his chest had been cast as far as the East was from the West. "My name is Gabriel by the way." Gabe refused to refer to her as "Slave", He would rather know her God given name from birth.

[Nose_Meat]

Jazz sat there staring at the people around her in a daze. She bit at her cheek, holding her arm to herself tightly as she had put her rifle away earlier. The chair was uncomfortable, and there were awkward glances in her direction as to why she was sitting in a chair at a table with men. She didn't feel uncomfortable. She felt murderous. Her head was swimming; she needed a way out of here...she was going to get trapped by the NCR she knew it. Ira cracked open the blue powder and her eyes darted to the side quickly, the smell an old friend coming to welcome her home. She wanted to smile, but the dripping stopped her. She laid her hands flat on the table, her broken fingers jagged and dirty but still dainty enough to be called feminine. Her head hung low, her greasy hair in her face and she closed her eyes. She wanted the dust, but dared not ask for she was a woman. Even given her high status; they didn't know her from shit. instead she opened her eyes, held her breath and observed the preacher sitting across from her, the woman at his feet, on the ground eating his food with him. What did he want from her? Jazz wasn't sure. It was intriguing. she wasn't used to kindness...and she couldn't point it out to anyone... it fascinated her, and she figured there must be an ulterior motive. she decided not to trust him. She lifted her head, her eyes moving to the now half dead Ira, relaxed as much as he could be, slumped in the chair like a scarecrow stuffed with leaves, yet still deadly it seemed. She let out a rhaspy voice at first, forgetting that she hadn't breathed since she stopped.

"What do you plan on doing here? Your friend is on a death list, and youre getting wasted?"
She spit
"That's treason where I come from...."

She ran her hand trough her hair, she would leave, but at this time of the night, she would most likely get raped or sold off into slavery. Her best hope is to stay with a perv, a preacher, and half of a man. She decided it was better than nothing.

"Do what you want.. I have nothing in it."

she wanted to sleep...but she dared not move from her seat. She just drank her dirty water, and didn't touch the food.

[Toneh]

Ira took a deep inhale from the barrel of his gun, he stayed on it for several seconds before pulling away, and holding his breath for several moments, then in rather exaggerated movement he exhaled deeply, releasing a murky blue plume of smoke into the already hazy atmosphere of the bar. It smelled of meant, and to Gabriel who did not smoke the blue dirt it would clear is sinuses. Ira held his finger up to the tender ordering a glass of water. As well as a small amount of sampler foods. They arrived, but Ira seemed more interested in smoking the blue dirt from his gun.

“Giving up at last?” Ira said to Gabriel in response to him mentioning that this place needs Jesus and Gabe not being able to fulfill it. His words were not chiding or even rude, it was a genuine question. The Strange uniformed woman had opted to follow him. This always happened. Ira looked at her with what amounted to radiation pouring out of his single eye. "You know, I could always pull the trigger again, we can try your luck." He said smiling at Jazzmine. This could be taken as a joke except for the fact Ira had actually reached for his pistol.

Ira began eating his food, when Francisco asked him a question. Ira remained silent, but that single eye locked onto Francisco with a ferocity the young preacher had probably grown accustomed to. “Do you see me fucking smiling?” Ira said sharply in response. “Are you serious?” Ira snapped back as he began stripping the shell off of what appeared to be some kind of scorpion and placed it into his mouth. He largely ignored the slaves as they moved about the table tending to Gabriel and Francisco. No Ira was fully focused on Francisco. He then tilted his head slightly “Serious about what?” Ira’s question sounded more like an accusation then anything. He then hesitate, but genitally pushed his gun over to Francisco's inviting hand.

The slave’s mouth watered as Gabriel offered her bread, but the bare breasted young woman submissively looked to the floor and went back to work. They never made eye contact, not did they even seem to react with anything less then fear. Shortly after asking his question Ira nudged Gabriel. “If you really care about these people, do not put them in positions where they will be punished. Ira’s words were not harsh, and again as of late he had been being very nice(and by nice, not berating Gabriel nearly as much)

The bar was rank. You could hear the squeals of some of the slave girls as they were forced to perform humiliating acts on each other. On of the raiders actually slammed on of them into the wall. Another group of them cheered violently as they made a pair of boy and a girl, who looked nearly identical perform various sexual acts on each other for their own amusement. Disturbing to Gabe, Ira merely pretended it was not happening. He was the portrait of denial, and this defiantly showed Gabriel that the raging young man could actually control him self when necessary.

[poonwrangler]

Francisco’s finger’s wrapped around the barrel of the gun, and he lifted the large battle worn weapon to his face, and placed his lips on the barrel just before he readied a retort to Ira’s question. He took a deep inhale, the ignited narcotic glowing orange from the chamber of the powerful weapon. He held the smoke in his lung before bringing his soft lips to the face of the girl, and exhaling it into her mouth. The girl sucked it down reluctantly, and started coughing loudly. “HA! VIRGIN LUNGS!” He exclaimed while slapping his hand on her ass making a loud slapping noise. A pained look formed over her face. Te girl hesitated, but Francisco had moved the barrel of the gun to her face. “Come on…suck it..” He whispered seductively to her. She then forced her mouth onto the gun and took a soft puff, before coughing more. Francisco glared at her. “Again.” He said sternly before turning his face back to Ira and Gabriel, smiling warmly once more.

“Heh, Serious? I am talking about that Save The World Bullshit I watched you pull back at new Zion.” He said as the girl with watery eyes went back to sucking on the rifle. “You could have ran away, but no you stayed, tried to help, and for what? You lost your leg, and every body still died, so I have to wonder how serious are you, you seemed to be just another prick who takes what he wants from these…” He then groped the young slave ass very hard. “Savages.” He then took the gun from the girl, and offered it over to Gabriel. “But then I saw something, I saw you kill people who looked like you with…raw emotion…passion. Now mind you I have killed people in my day, but I never felt anything, you…enjoyed it. So I have to wonder, are you serious about following your people’s ways, or are you just doing that shit to scratch an itch you have kept hidden.”

“Take a hit preacher man…it will make you feel better.” Francisco said trying to be comforting. The slave girl behind him would continue to message Gabriel’s muscles, she never progressed into anything sexual. But Francisco seemed intent on changing that. “Preacher…you can take her.” He said nodding his head. “She will do what ever you want, hell if you don’t you may end up getting her killed, or even worst traded out to a field hand where she will be slowly killed.

The Girl looked at Gabriel with wanting eyes. Not so much a wanting of him, but rather Francisco’s words rang true, and she did not want to die. “GOD! I love this place!” Francisco said pulling his slave closer to him, and moving onto more…serious advances on her bodes.

“Ira, lap-dance?” He said calmly looking at one of the dancer’s who was clearly eying the armored warrior with a degree of interest. “It is on me.”

[Dreamer]

After a while two small,soot covered child dash around the room blowing out as many candles as their short legs could manage, hopping, spitting, and fanning out the light of the tavern one by two by three by nine untill the only candles left lit are tiny lonely embers illuminating the bar. The tavern owner's nasially voice announces." Shut the FUCK uP And Pay Attention to the Blind Archer's Own ECHOooooo..."

The crowd of lewd and crude insulting scum was a mix of whistles and insults that made her ears burn. Slowly the bar settled into a curious dull roar. Cue the the drums from the rafters. Badum....Badumbadum.......Badum. The sound of a deep heart beat resounded through the air. The drum began to slowly increase in speed working it's way to a loud cresendo. Badum..bedum..bedumbedumBedumBEDUMDADUMBAUMBADUM! .Silence. For just a moment, a pause of stretched tension of anticipation almost anxious with the pent up energy shoving it's way through the room. A sudden FLASH! Orange and blue and red striking out towards the audience from a shadowed figure that appeared on stage. The heat felt like it sorched the hair of the customers sitting closest to the stage. The flame looked like a flickering tongue dancing with fearsome beauty and danger hoovering up over the shadowed figure. One breath, one exhale and that tongue began to slither, to slink around the stage moving with careful purpose choosing it's prey, devouring the candles and igniting mirroring small tongues of fire. The cloaked figure stood in the center of the stage tantalizingly slowly she came into view with the soft flickering candle light playing across her creamy pale fingers caressing up her arms sliding over her elbow reaching up to cup her breasts through the thin cotton cloth of the chemise and sighed over her emerald green vest and skirt. The rest of her body was shroud in a black cloak. The candle light explored her calm features. Her defined jaw, her sloping nose, her swollen and red lips. Cue the flute from the bar. A sweet low melody that visibly moved through the crowd brushing a shoulder here a cheek there moving like a purring cat about thighs and ankles. The drum slowly moved in to tease the flute licking at the sweet edges of the melody and kissing the air in the flute's hesitant pause. The shadowed figure's eyes flash open amber then fade to a submissive tender brown wide and excited. Her body flowed out from her in liquid movement like art in motion. The cloak slowly drifting down to pool into a cresent moon about her ankles like discarded lingerie. Her lips part and a bell-like voice like the sound of a waterfall trickling over rocks breaking against the empy air.escapes rising and falling in harmony with the meeting and parting flute and drum. Cue harp from the far table embracing the audience in the sounds like a silk sheet winding them tighter closer. She sang like poison with lips like morphine passionate death and moved like a predator sexual and demanding. Her fingers traced invisible lines into the air while her hips swayed with the music. Her auburn hair caught the the light of the candles and shone red and tangled about her curvy body like a veil. She gave into the animalistic sexual tension of the song throwing her entire soul into the moment. When the song ended she was left breathy and bright eyed.

Two men came from the bar, they were obviously mercs for the bar with their shaved heads and broad shoulders screaming of hired muscle. They grabbed "Echo's" arms as the song finishes and snaps shackles on her wrists and ankles even as the tavern explodes in applause and begins to drag her back towards the stairs tugging and forcing her forward. The slaves start making rounds to re light the candles. Like a spell lifted from the bar the tavern returns to it's loud obnoxious state that is had been.

[Kings Anointed]

"Ira... you have a point... I don't wish that this woman be treated harshly and it's sad we have no other source of income that we might buy her out of this life of bondage and misery..." Gabe stoked her face gently and lifted her chin up so he might look into her eyes. Not an animalistic lustful touch but one of care and kindness. He saw the fear in her eyes build to tears which squeezed out and ran out over cheeks. "Please I'd rather you massaging my shoulders than my feet Miss, they are far cleaner than where my feet have been." Gabe smiled gently then as he was offered the narcotic by the man cross the table from him. "Thanks but no thank you kindly sir. God's my source sir." Gabriel finished his wine and seeing that the water wasn't pure by looking over at Jazz's cup of it, he decided to ask for a bit more wine. "More wine please, only half full if you don't mind. Thankyou." Gabriel spoke politely to the person attending the table. His eyes returned to the female slave now rising from his feet and wiping her hands on whatever garments she had hanging from her body then began working on his aching shoulders and neck.

Gabriel's eyes retrained themselves on Francisco and his indulgences then answered to the man's suggestion, "I know I could have her if I chose and she'd have no choice, but that is not my desire and never would be sir. She's against a wall already as it were. She does as she's asked or I'm sure a rather cruel punishment befalls her if complaint reaches her owner. I take advantage of no bond person's predicament to satisfy my own lusts... I wasn't raised that way." Gabriel then abruptly went silent before speaking another word but he let his eyes and facial expression finish and waited for the wine to be brought to him and he thanked who brought it with a smile and small blessing. It was the same little boy from before. Who showed actually a soft yellow smile of airbrushed teeth. Finally, the boy frowned when he was called back to the kitchen and turned back quickly from Gabriel to continue working.

Gabriel sighed softy and brought the cup to his lips and drank, and relaxing from the slave woman's healing hands soothing the tired muscles of his back, shoulders, and neck. "You're doing a really fantastic job Miss..." He remembered her eyes were green a radiant emerald green. "I'll call you Emeralda, for your eyes since I don't know your real name." Gabe then looked to Jazz who seemed to be watching him suspiciously and obviously uneasy. He wondered what her story maybe. He noted in his mind that she was the most beautiful woman in the room and probably in the town. Gabriel's eyes scanned the room again but returned to Ira, then Francisco trying not to lose his meager dinner and wine at watching him and the woman, and then the woman massaging him. She was still puzzled but obviously relieved Gabriel hadn't told her to get lost. How could he, knowing what was probably awaiting her next. The longer she was here the less likely she was to be force into having sex with a lesser man. The wine loosened Gabriel up somewhat but he was still himself and pure of mind at the present. He then closed his eyes for a second, but all he could see were the images of days gone which were most recent in his memory. At that moment he spoke up again and opened his eyes smiling softly, "Praise be to God for our survival and the strength he gave to us in the hour of darkness. For His hand guiding us, and allowing us to come here of all places. But He knows all things and in His complete and everlasting wisdom saw opportunity here to reach hearts, minds, and most importantly souls for Him." He said looking to Francisco and Ira and raised his cup of wine in a toast to them.

[Toneh]

Ira reached over the table and lifted his gun from Francisco’s hand “He does not do this shit.” He snapped at Francisco, in defense of Gabriel defensively. Ira took the rifle, and softly placed the butt in between his feet taking in another deep inhale. He exhaled sending more smoke into the air. “I do these things…because they need to be done.” Ira said calmly. “Also because it is all I know.” He stated dryly as he offered his gun back over to Francisco. “No I would not like a Lap Dance.”

It was how ever at this point that the lights in the bar drew dim, and a singer came out. The song immediately smashed into Ira’s deteriorating emotional state, and for the short time she was on that stage, his eye was locked onto her face. IT was not the song that was enchanting, for as the woman sang her hypnotic ballad, Ira had at present abandoned the bar.

He went nearly 18 years into his past. And he remembered clutching to his mother’s bosom. His mother, her beautiful flowing black hair, and how she smelled of spice, holding him, rocking him to sleep. Her voice how ever was softer, it was rose hips to this woman’s morphine. It was honey to this woman’s venom.

It was rare Ira had seen anything beautiful in this world, and this woman, and her song were a very rare treat in deed. Gabriel who was closest to him would here a single whispered word “Beautiful…” float from Ira’s mouth, and work its way through the air riding his breath.

A tear rolled down Ira’s face as the song ended, and he turned back to Francisco and Gaberial. He would remain silent for a time, and shifted a glare to Gabriel. He stared at the preacher for a moment, actually for a good while. Before turning back to Francisco.

Ira Ignored Gaberiel’s toast, and sneered at Jazzmine. “I am fighting in your place in Battle Dome Preacher.” Ira said nonchalantly as he reached out and took a sip from his glass. He began eating more of his food.

[poonwrangler]

Francisco’s hands flew up defensively as Ira chastised him for offering Gabe the Blue Dirt. “My bad dog, my bad!” He said laughing. “All you know?” He would go back to indulging himself on the slave girl, and as Ira took another hit from his gun, he began ravaging the girl with her hands. She moaned audibly, and her body quivered slightly. Then her perked up and ceased his actions on the woman. “All you know? Fair enough.” He said with a callous and sarcastic laugh that seemed to slice through the bar.

But then those lights grew dim. Francisco turned his head and saw a lavish young woman take command of the stage. Wrapping his hand around the slave’s waist he turned his body so that he could take in the full view. With wide eyes and an opened mouth he watched the spectacle of the song. Her voice was like delicious drug, her body a forbidden fruit begging to be caressed by his soft tongue. To him she was a trophy, a peace of meat, a diamond in the rough. When the song came to it crescendo, Francisco leapt to his feet, the slave girl tumbling to the ground. And grunting loudly in pain. He payed her no mind, for his full attention was on this singer. The song like all good things came to an abrupt end. And the bar broke into applause.

“BRAVO!” Francisco shouted “BRAVO!” his hands slapping together. He placed his thumb and his index finger to the edges of his lips and emitted a loud screeching whistle. “NOW THAT IS ENTERTAINMENT!” He exclaimed as he turned to Gabe. “Come on preacher, the tenants of faith can allow you to place praise where it is needed!”

As he spoke, his brown eyes were caressing Ira’s enchanted form. He smiled deviously. “HEY!” He shouted to the Bar owner. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING! Takes those shackles off of her!” His hand glided to his pistol. He then Motioned for her to be sent to his table, and he waved his pistol around in a threatening fashion. Francisco knew the Bar Owner, and the man knew to be scared of him.

He would wait for her arrival, and sit back down. He glared angrily at his slave as she started to get back up. “Bitch, stay down!” He commanded as he slapped his boots on the table and crossed his ankles, pushing the chair he sat in up on two legs. By this point Gabriel had made his toast. Francisco took his own beverage and toasted with him. “Here is to Ira, fighting with one leg, NIGGA SHUT UP!” He said jokingly.

“You can not fight! With one eye, and one leg, you won’t last ten seconds, hell at least your friend has a shot, those mother fuckers in battle dome will rip you up boy!”

[Dreamer]

"Hey Get your meaty hands off me! Fucking, NO need to push!" Echo's voice commanded in anger as the guards first began shoving her away and then very suddenly back towards a table. She was violently shoved around a table and her ankle scrapped against rough wood. "Ow Fuck! I CAN walk ya know! I have my own set of fucking legs and Shit!" One guard chuckled at her outburst and slapped her promptly across her face sending her head sharply spinning. The edge of her vision blurred as pain blossomed across her cheek. It made her gasp catching her breath in short choppy breaths. She would not give the animal the satisfaction of nursing her throbbing cheek, she knew it would bruise from the feel of it. Instead she smiled, her lips curved in satisfaction a grin that bared her teeth and the warmth from her eyes bled out leaving them cold. "Feel better? More like a man now?" The man reached for her hair yanking her onto her tippy toes and shoving her practically across Francisco’s table. He leans over her body and whispers into her ear just loud enough for the table to hear,"I hope he rapes you and makes you like it bitch." He shoves her away from him and walks away casually throwing his voice over his shoulder,"She's all yours, just remember you asked for her."

[Nose_Meat]

“I am fighting in your place in Battle Dome, Preacher.”
“You can not fight! With one eye, and one leg, you won’t last ten seconds, hell at least your friend has a shot, those mother fuckers in battle dome will rip you up boy!”

Jazz smiled that devious smile.
"That's suicide and you know it,"
The freak was right. There was no way he would survive; he may last a bit longer than the preacher, but surviving was another. Ira didn't seem to hear her, she was used to it in the Badlands. She scoffed and turned her attention to the preacher again. It was much more interesting than watching Fransisco's fetid display or Ira's self loathing pity.
The preacher had switched the slave's position from his feet to his shoulders again. The girl wasn't very old, and maybe a few years younger than Jazz was. She didn't feel sympathy. Only a throbbing uneasy threat in the back of her mind. That could easily be her; pleasuring some slob like the spic at the corner of the table. She tensed up, and placed her hand on her bowie knife, two palms longer than her actual hand strapped at her thigh.
A song drifted through the smut and filthy air of the pub. She knew the song. The words were in the back of her mind, mixing with the blackness, staining her, eating her from the inside out. She stared off, the darkness taking her for a second, though she desperately tried to choke it out.
The preacher caught her stare, her eyes set on his and she could tell he was reading her. She swallowed hard, that odd fear, avoidance gathered in her throat. what did he want? She looked down, playing it off as she hadn't seen him stare into her.
He can tell you're crazy.
He knows.
He's planning something.
You should kill him.
Kill them all
She closed her eyes tightly and gripped the side of the sodden wood table with white knuckles, breaking off a fingernail haphazardly.
"Fuck"
She whispered a bit too loud. Gabriel looked at her again, from his toast. She grimaced in pain, knocking her out of the horrid trance. She looked up, tears in the corners of her eyes, tears for pain...tears of thankfulness that she hadn't went to far. She reached for a handkerchief to tie her bleeding hand and the slave was slammed face first into her dinner plate. She almost stood, her handgun ready under the table, in her grasp, but she remembered her place now, and quickly sat down, hoping that no one noticed anything, and if they did
"dammit I 'm such a wreck..."
Jazz thought out loud and covered her face with her hands, kicking the table with her boot. What the fuck was she doing here? They were going to find her and she knew it. She dropped her hands, blood along the right side of her face gruesomely and slumped in her chair, half a mind to leave even if it meant a torturous outcome.
She just decided to sit there and become invisible.