Heart Strings, Heart of Gold #4

[Jordan Flynn]

Two Days after the Tournament
Mid-Afternoon
Restaurant Kitchen

"I say, she wants to quit, let her!" Helen's voice was strident, and she was rocking Evangeline's bassinet so hard with her foot that the baby raised her tiny fists in protest. "She wants to just walk away from all of us, who are we to stop her! She's a grown woman, after all."

Jordan poured another round of Szatsu's coffee to the handful of Heart of Gold employees around the table, "All I'm saying is that she needs some time to think, is all. She's had a shake-up, and she just needs some time to put it behind her. She'll be fine."

"I dunno, Jordan." Helen's blond locks fell over her face as she shook her head, the irritation in her voice giving way to compassion, "She ain't hardly been out of her cottage in two days. And then it was just to check the books and head right back in. She ain't takin' clients, she ain't hardly eating... Emma and Lucy been lookin' after Jonah most the day."

The bartender stood and paced the length of the kitchen.

Whatever Szatsu had in the soup pot smelled good and she took the lid off and gave it a stir before taking a bite straight from the spoon. Her grimace said it didn't taste as good as it smelled, "Man likes salt, doesn't he?" She muttered in aside before returning to the problem at hand, "But voting someone to her place? Where's she going to go? What's she going to do? This is her home. Tell me, any one of you, if this place would be the same without her."

She turned and looked seriously at Tessa and Kazimir, then turned back to Helen, "Do you want to run this place? Do you think any one of us could do it better? I know I can't! Tess? Kaz? You two wanna run the Heart?"

Jordan's hands planted on her hips, "We can take a vote, but I'm telling you, if we can't convince Petaline to stay... this place won't last more than a year."

[Kazimir Sternberg]

Kazimir gave a nod in Jordan's direction, then offered. "Ma'am, I don't reckon I'd know the first thing 'bout how to run this place, that's been Miss Petaline's business, and she's been doin' a fine job s'far as I'm concerned." The bouncer shrugged and said. "Be best if'n we could keep her in charge, but if'n she aims to stay in her cabin then I reckon we need someone to take care of things 'til she's ready to be in charge of the Heart 'gain." Glancing over to Tessa, the bouncer offered. "Reckon ye'd do a fine job of keepin' things runnin' 'til Miss Petaline's got her head right Miss Jordan, though I don't reckon Miss Tessa'd do a bad job of it either."

Kazimir was worried about the depression that the madame seemed to have slipped into. While being rattled for a few days after the events of the tournament was one thing, if Petaline slipped into black depression things could turn decidedly bad. Nodding to himself, the bouncer said. "Once we get this figured out I reckon I might go out 'nd have a word with 'er, might have some luck convincin' her she's oughtn't to feel so bad 'bout thangs."

[Szatsu]

"I believe," Szatsu said, settling into a chair of his own, "that this situation requires a certain finesse and tact. Petaline is obviously depressed, and why not? Her business, her home, was nearly destroyed by a man once called friend of the House." "And a man who almost murdered Vittoria." "I don't need to tell you all how close Roland came to killing all of us, and I certainly don't need to tell Petaline. She is the Madame of the House, the one woman responsible for the lives of her people and the livelihood of her business." Szatsu sighed through his nostrils. "At least, that's what she thinks. So, she's blaming herself for Roland, believing that she should have known, she should have had a feeling the moment he came into the door." Szatsu shook his head, eyes flicking to Jordan before he said, "Not a one of us did. Not. A. One." Szatsu smiled then, a bitter smile that could cause eyes to look away in uncomfortableness. "But look what happened to him." Szatsu stood, wincing slightly as his forearm-holsters bit into his flesh underneath his baggy longsleeve. "Petaline is not responsible for Roland, and she isn't the only one responsible for the Heart of Gold. If we are to last, then neither ourselves or Petaline can continue to dwell on ghosts, even if they are only two days in age. And if anyone comes against us again..." Szatsu held out his arms, shook them once, firmly, and Shock and Awe fell into his hands, small but deadly.

"They'll go the same way as Roland did." Re-holstering his guns with more effort than it took to whip them out, Szatsu said to Kazimir, "I'll go with you, Kazimir. She may not know me as well as some," "Who here does know me?" "but she should hear what I have to say." "Nice speech, Szats. Keep on talking like that, and you'll find yourself elected into Parliament before you can say "kiss-ass to Murdock." "

[Maynard J. Longstreet]

The Grounds/The Pool

Tomaso Vincent, head of his eponymous tong. Tong, gang, club, whatever you called it, Maynard still laughed at Vincent’s attempts at grandeur and myth by naming his inherited gang after himself. Anyway, the guy had given Maynard what was referred to as the ‘last call’ in the bounty hunting biz. The last report before you brought the guy in; now, if Maynard didn’t cart Dog alive or dead (but preferably alive) to Vincent in a half-month, then Maynard would have some hunters of his own to contend with.

Now, lounging in the pool, Maynard considered why he had helped out Dog in the first place. The reasons he’d supplied just complicated things with their simplicity. The core of it was: Maynard just felt like it. He had always been a man of impulse, a slave to it. He’d been ready to blow off Dog’s head the second he’d stepped out of the truck, but then the man had the balls to throw a gorram knife at him. That was probably when the impulse of helping had kicked in, although that couldn’t be exactly true, because Maynard had already been prepared to give Dog a head-start.

Maynard shrugged. He didn’t like to analyze his actions or himself, but it was a necessity in his line of work. Well, not anymore, it wasn’t. He was unofficially retired, a decision not made on impulse, and he was keen on making the most of his leisure time. If any hunters (or even Vincent himself) came for him, then he would kill them and smile doing it.

Dog. God, what a kid. Had quite the pair on him, but when his tongue did move, it was generally a bad decision to do so. He’d gotten Maynard pretty steamed, two nights ago, and had to be disciplined for it. Maynard was neither a hick nor dumb, and if the only way to prove that to Dog was giving him some fresh scars, then that was it. In retrospect, that was probably a bad move, but once again, the fault of impulse.

[Evan]

Comfort Room

Evan, wide awake and sober, now that he had gotten a full-night's rest, walked into the Comfort Room once again, and sat down at a table in the corner. He did this not to order anything or whatnot, he just wanted to relax, and he watched the people as they wandered in and out of the Heart of Gold. He wondered who that girl was from last night, the one that had told him he was drunk, or at least that's how Evan took it.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs onto a chair in front of him, as he faced the door.

[The Atillian]

The bright Jinye sunlight shines off the ship's polished metal, her exterior looking no different than it did during her departure. Slowly, the Jester comes to rest on the small moon’s dusty surface, the roar of her engines dying several yards from the Heart of Gold. She has returned for her crew-as soon as they get found. It is time to bring in some new faces and some fresh blood...

[Rahl]

Rahl had no idea where to start looking for his crew. Since he didn’t care for circling the gorram backwater moon that was Jinye, checking in every possible place, he went to the one place his crew would know to look for him. The whorehouse didn’t look like much at all, but the Captain was in no position to complain. As long as he found somebody willing to take his coin and give him an hour or two worth of forgetting, he was less particular than usual. Locking the ship up tight, he moved towards the house of ill repute, part of his share from the recent job gone south in his pocket. Though he loathed what had happened to his crew and his ship, the division of pay between less people, if only this once, was nothing to sneeze at.

As the tall blonde moved into the common area of the main house, ignoring the signs of recent chaos evident on the grounds, his blue eyes circled the room, seeking possibilities. Surprised, he spotted Myer and The Breeze, but did not approach them. Right now, he was shopping. The Captain eyed the gun-hand and mechanic each in turn, giving them looks that spoke just as clearly as his actual words would have.

Leave me alone. I’ll come to you.

He quickly moved away from the crewmembers he’d located, not at all ready to talk business of any sort. Work had settled heavily on his shoulders despite the delay to visit Nichole. Now, he wanted some free time, even if it was just enough for a good grappling session with some fine specimen inside these solar-sheeted walls. It was with a practiced eye he continued to study the various wares the house had to offer, silently weighing each against the unknown question of price. After several minutes spent circling the room, Rahl moved to the front counter.

Though he kept his voice down, he wasn’t as subtle when sliding the coin across the counter to the dark-haired man standing behind it. ”I’d like the best your house has to offer, male or female. Please have someone meet me at the bar in twenty minutes.” With that, he slipped away, leaving 200 credits sitting on the counter near the man’s hand. Rahl knew it would be enough, more than enough, to pay for the brief time he had available.

At the bar, he moved onto a stool, motioning The Breeze and Myer to join him. ”One Calypso and whatever these two want. I’m in a generous mood, kids; take advantage of it,” the Captain instructed his crew idly.

Once they had ordered and the bartender left, Rahl leaned on the bar and looked at the two of them. ”We’re only staying here long enough to find some new faces, dong ma? I ran into some of the boss’ goons while cleaning things up. We’ve got a delivery to make to Higgin’s Moon.” His blue eyes leveled on Myer. ”Since our numbers have decreased, I’ll be depending on you to help our new gun-hands find their feet on-board. Keep them in line and show them the ropes. You know how things work. Though we’ve had smooth sailing before, storms are heading our way. You do right by the new crew and you’ll be rewarded for it, I promise you that.”

He turned to the mechanic sitting on his other side. ”I don’t want you worrying anything about new crew except for our pilot if I find someone to do the job. Tily’s still flyin’ fine, but she’s been missin’ you something fierce. Once we’re back on the ship, you get my girl set straight. Let Myer and I worry over the newcomers; I’ll see that they keep out of your way.”

Once their drinks arrived, Rahl nodded his thanks and smiled, passing the money over with a motion to keep the change. After taking the shot glass in his hands, he let the dark brown drink slide down his throat, thankful for the burn of alcohol. Sliding an ashtray to his side, he lit a cigarette before addressing the remnants of his crew once more. ”If you’ve got questions, ask ‘em fast or they wait until after I’ve spent some good credits on a dose of forget.”




The Breeze GMed with permission. Myer, if this bugs you, say so and I'll edit accordingly.

[Dusty]

Front Desk

”I’d like the best your house has to offer, male or female. Please have someone meet me at the bar in twenty minutes.”

"Well, then, it's a shame I'm on desk duty, because I'm the best." Dusty murmured flirtatiously, but the handsome blond was already walking away. 'Gorram ruttin' shame I'm on desk duty.' He thought almost as loudly as he'd murmured as he drawered the cash and looked around to see who was available.

It was early yet, most local patrons weren't off work for a few hours yet, so most of the fancies were available. Dusty watched Emma eying the man up down and sidewise as he made his way to the bar. He couldn't blame her, he was trying as unobtrusively as possible to do the same. Still, the man had paid a heap of coin. And the rule at the Heart was always give the customer his moneys worth.

With a grin, Dusty waved Emma and signalled towards Lucy. Emma nodded in understanding and grabbed Lucy's hand dragging her to the Front Desk.

"He wants twenty minutes to settle in, but then you girls aughta head over and make him right welcome. He upped 200." Dusty frowned for a moment, a quick recall of a man flashing a lot of coin with pair of women already on his arm, and yellin' for champagne and hot girls. The night Catri'd been shot. "But you two watch your backs. Anything don't look right, you scream out."

Emma's grin said all it needed to and the two girls slipped unobtrusively to the end of the bar, their eyes focused on the clock as it ticked down the twenty minutes.

[Pearlmin Bailey]

Comfort Room: Front Desk

Pearlmin hadn't slept very well the night before, signs of which were still attached to his dirt covered face. The trails of tears still cutting through the thick dirt and debris. He also knew his coat still had the semi-fresh blood marks from the on going battle from two days ago. Pearlmin didn't care.

He moved slowly to the front desk, shooting a half heart ached smile at Dusty. Pearlmin looked him in the eye as he spoke. "Good day, Mr. Dusty. I see Miss Emma there is in a nice full recovery, but where's Miss Eunae? If you can't tell me her exact status, well at least tell me if she's alive. Please?"

Pearlmin's eyes had begun to burn once again. He was horrified at that thought. Pearlmin could feel the sadness trying to reach out. He wanted to scream the truth. I KILLED EUNAE'S HUSBAND! I DID IT! I DID IT! I DID IT! ME ME ME!Suddenly the room began to spin. Pearlmin's eyes shuttered before rolling upward into the sockets. Everything went black.

[Myra Sorrel]

Comfort Room/Front Desk

Myra leaned contentedly back in the high backed chair near one of the windows in the comfort room, basking in the warm afternoon sun that shone through the glass as she nursed her drink. It had been two days since the madness of the tournament, the fires, and the bomb. The events of that hardly seemed real to Myra. So many disasters in so short a span of time. Hostage situations, arson, attempted robberies, shootings, druggings. And of course there had been the nearly getting blown up by the bomb thing. Seemed like a ludicrous script from a bad vid. Except it had actually been real.

Certainly one of the more eventful holidays I've had. Myra thought wryly to herself, sipping her drink as she watched the guests and employees trickling in and out of the Comfort Room. It'd make a great postcard. Still, will be good to get back to work. Likely I'd still be lazing around three months from now if I didn't already have more work lined up. The thought of taking some more time to relax held some definite appeal, but Myra knew that if she didn't get up now she ran the risk of over indulging on sleep and drink and food, and she knew she would be doing herself no favours in the long run.

Placing her now empty tumbler on the drink coaster on the table next to the arm of her chair, she stood and headed for the exit. Time to stretch the legs a bit. She decided as she passed the front desk on the way out the door. The large gentleman she'd seen floating around the house in the last couple of days was at the front desk, talking to Dusty who was stuck on desk duty.

She gave a small wave to Dusty as she passed them. Some part of her brain noted with surprise how quietly the large man spoke, but she caught none of what he was saying. She was thinking about how nice it would be to get outside, have a long walk, or to maybe enjoy Vittoria's delightful rose garden, when there was a solid and reverberating thump behind her.

She turned, one hand still resting on the door handle, to see the large man with the soft voice laying splayed out on the floor in front of the front desk. Oh, Lordy. She thought as she hurried over to the man. More drama. Never a dull moment in the place.

She knelt next to the unconscious man's head and felt his neck for a pulse. Feeling the steady throbbing beneath his skin, she looked up to Dusty. "He seems to have taken ill, Dust. What do you reckon we should do with him?" She wondered out loud, eyeing the man's bulk dubiously. "I don't wanna put my hand up to carry him anywhere; I like my spine intact."

She leaned back over the pale man and tapped his clammy cheek with the palm of her hand, hoping to bring him round a bit. "Hey, fella? Can you hear me?"

[The Breeze]

The Breeze eyed Rahl doubtfully over her untouched glass of Blowjob, her fingers playing idly over the condensation dewing the sides of the glass.

She was actually surprised that Rahl had come back for them. She was relieved, of course, but she'd also half expected him to either do the the smart thing and cut his losses, disappear into the black, or... Well. No matter that she’d never had proper schooling, The Breeze wasn’t stupid. It was no secret amongst the pitiful remnants of the crew that their situation was stickier'n old whore in heat. They'd rutted up bad, badly enough that the bossman was bound to have been crapping fire and brimstone, and he wasn’t the type to let failure sail on by with just a slap on the wrist.

She'd played it off well, acting just like she usually did, but a day hadn’t gone by since Rahl had dumped them on this craphole planet that she hadn’t slept with her pistol tucked in snugly at her side. To put it baldly, she'd been expecting to wake up dead.

“So... Bossman ain’t mad, then?” Desperate hope dripped from every word.

[Tessa Saville]

Tessa sat and listened to the exchange, as the de facto leaders of the Heart of Gold spoke their collective minds. Once again dressed in her uniform of denim and tank top with boots high and cowboy hat low, she pondered her place in the hierarchy of her home. In many ways she felt very responsible for a majority of the ills that had befallen them two nights ago. A more experienced person may have been able to avoid such…such wholesale chaos.

Since the death of Roland Black, the farmer had stayed in the fields…where everything made sense. She had thought as she worked. If Petaline questioned her own leadership, was there any doubt that Tessa’s was a thousand times more suspect.

"...Tess? Kaz? You two wanna run the Heart?"

Turning her gaze to the floor, her voice barely had the strength to pass her lips,
”No.”

"...though I don't reckon Miss Tessa'd do a bad job of it either."

Her eyes shot to the bouncer’s…horror ringing them. Was he mad? Hadn’t he seen the mess she’d made of things just hours earlier?

As the true leaders of the Heart formulated a plan, the farmer-bard sat and listened, but her ears were drawn to the whistle of the wind outside…calling her home.

[Shannon Grey]

The Grounds/ Comfort Room/ Front Desk

He had gotten up early that morning to give himself sometime to run. He hadn't done enough real exercise to keep himself from feeling sluggish. So off he went running around the Heart about 4 or five times; he lost count.

Then deciding he needed some water, Shannon took off his white T-shirt and tucked it part way into his back pocket and headed into the front door. Upon entering, Shannon saw a woman bent over a huge monster of a man speaking to him and from what it seemed like was now trying to wake him. Huh, you don't see that every day. Shannon slowly moved around them to the bar. He noticed The Breeze and Myer talking to another fellow. Shannon puffed up his still bare chest to appear more manly, but knowing it was too early for any type of fornication he focused back to his task at hand. Getting some water. "Excuse me, but could I please have two waters?"

Once he had them he drank one and saved the other. He got up slowly and moved back to the woman whom was still in the process of waking the huge man. With a concerned smile, Shannon spoke softly so not to startle the woman. "Here you go, Ma'm. And don't worry none, its on me." As he finished, Shannon held out the water.

[Myer Ashley]

”One Calypso and whatever these two want. I’m in a generous mood, kids; take advantage of it,”

Cranberry juice.

”We’re only staying here long enough to find some new faces, dong ma? I ran into some of the boss’ goons while cleaning things up. We’ve got a delivery to make to Higgin’s Moon.” His blue eyes leveled on Myer. ”Since our numbers have decreased, I’ll be depending on you to help our new gun-hands find their feet on-board. Keep them in line and show them the ropes. You know how things work. Though we’ve had smooth sailing before, storms are heading our way. You do right by the new crew and you’ll be rewarded for it, I promise you that.”

Myer was happy to be near the captain again. He was the only ‘friend’ that Myer had left in the ‘verse. “Yes sir.” Myer always had respect in his voice for the captain. He and his ship were the best thing to ever happen to him.

”If you’ve got questions, ask ‘em fast or they wait until after I’ve spent some good credits on a dose of forget.”

“You’re not planning on kissing any of them right. It’s a bad idea in this place.” Myer spoke with experience. The captain didn’t need to be drugged, just loved.

“So... Bossman ain’t mad, then?”

Myer’s eyebrows pointed up to the sky. Their situation made him worry. Worry almost as much as the day he went rogue from the alliance. If he could have became any more cautious this situation would have made him. But when a man runs away from the people who trained him to hunt and kill he becomes rather paranoid already. He waited for the captain to answer the Breeze.

[Evan]

Evan stretched in his chair, and slowly stood up. He walked up to the bar, glanced at three people standing somewhat near him, then said to the bartender, "Coffee, tea, something to wake me up." As he waited for the drink, he leaned on the bar, and looked around the room, much as he had earlier.

”We’re only staying here long enough to find some new faces, dong ma?..."

At hearing this, Evan started to eavesdrop on the group of three near him.

"I ran into some of the boss’ goons while cleaning things up. We’ve got a
delivery to make to Higgin’s Moon.”

I believe I just found my ticket off this tiny rock! Evan smirked, and continued to listen. I COULD ask to join their crew..... He thought, and turned around, looking for his drink. "Where the hell is my coffee?....Or Tea, or whatever it is you decided to get me?" He asked the bartender, who then slammed his tea down on the bar in front of him. "Why thank you." Evan mumbled sarcastically, then handed him some money.