first entrance

[almosthonorable]

[ oom: they're gonna hang me in the mornin'
before the night is done
they're gonna hang me in the mornin'
i'll never see the sun ]

The man in the doorway eyes the room as he brushes the dirt from his black duster.

This isn't the not-so-respectable establishment he expected, but it's a bar.

Which means there's whiskey. And he's thirsty.

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Comments

[lasthalfmile]

Dan is working his way through a glass of that fine whiskey while sitting at the bar. He can see the door when it opens, because when you're dead and stuck in a bar, what better to do than watch who comes in and out.

However.

long black coat black hat dark eyes

That was not who he was expecting anytime soon.

[almosthonorable]

Wade takes in the room as he moves toward the bar, counting, surveying, assessing.

His eyes slide to the man on a nearby barstool.

And he blinks.

This was not who he was expecting anytime.

"Didn't know I died somewhere between the hitchin' post and the door."

[lasthalfmile]

"You most likely didn't."

Sip of whiskey (more than a sip, more like a swallow, who can blame him when it comes to the infamous Ben Wade) and then he sets the glass down.

"Not everyone who shows up ain't breathing."

[almosthonorable]

A raised eyebrow, carefully neutral expression.

He'll be damned - Dan Evans, breathing and drinking and talking.

"And how's that, exactly?"

[song_tra_bong]

There's a blonde at the bar who's thirsty too, judging by the full glass in front of her.

(Her drink of choice is tequila, however.

Doesn't mean she doesn't know where the whiskey is.)

[almosthonorable]

Wade approaches the bar, and the blonde gets a second look and a measured half-smile as he places a hand on the counter.

"Evenin', ma'am."

[song_tra_bong]

She looks up at the sound of his voice, smiling back.

"Evenin'."

[almosthonorable]

He lets his own smile widen, glancing behind the bar, then back to the woman.

"There a 'tender in this place?"

[mycursedface]

Tall man, quiet...? Tall man with watchful eyes, at least, and Medusa glances up from her bronze cipher disc. Black braids, black snakes and large golden wings that catch the light.

Also, she's sitting on a table in a short dress and jeans, but the snakes and wings are attention-grabbing.

[almosthonorable]

Quiet, calculating.

Observant.

He sees the wings before the snakes, and her odd attire is all but forgotten in their respective wakes.

There might be a faint flicker of surprise on his face as he tries to work out where the hell he is.

[mycursedface]

Pretty woman, though. Beautiful. More moving features in a sweeter face, yadda, yadda, yadda.

She smiles, quick and darting.

"New?" She asks, voice a little too musical to be human. But then again, the snakes and wings have already excluding her being anything close to 'human'.

[almosthonorable]

Esquisite. Especially when she smiles.

Especially when she speaks.

His wariness ratchets and relaxes in equal measure, and his palm twitches as he stifles the urge to check the holster at his hip.

"I think so."