Butcher

[Prince]

Need some meat? You're gonna pay for that steak aren't you?

[twich]

Twich wrinkled his nose and curled his lip at the sight of seven dead cows hanging from the ceiling. He shrugged it off and went to buy some meat. "Uhh, w-w-what can I get for 80 cents?" he stuttered as he asked the butcher. The man from behind the counter just looked up and stared at him. Then returned to his work. He wondered if he should repeat himself, but decided it best not to. So he stood there awkwardly, waiting.

[gabbi]

Gabbi was standing back against the wall, waiting for the moment when the butcher would give out the meat that was almost rotting for a lower price than usual. It was a last-ditch effort to sell it, and it always worked. She was starving and hadn't much more than two cents in her pocket.

She snorted a bit at his question. "You can get a helluva lotta meat for eighty cents," she said, crossing her arms. "Tongue's most expensive. If he aint savin' the tip for anyone's ma yeh should try for dat one, it's quality." Her mother had always sent her out to do the meat shopping when they were still a family group, so she knew what she could get. Ironically, it was the same store from her seven year old persona, too. Owned by the same man. The butcher gave her a gruff smirk--he knew what she was here for. But her selling his most expensive meat was bound to be a suck-up move. Try to ensure her the free bit before all the other kids got there.

[twich]

"T-t-tounge?" he asked, it didn't sound very appetizing to him but it wasn't often he had money like this and he wanted something expensive, so he turned to the butcher. "I g-g-guess I want a-a-a tongue, uhh, the t-t-tip please." The butcher looked up at him and glared, shook his Head and handed him what he wanted. Twich peeked into the white wrapping and wrinkled his nose. The butcher gurnted "That will be 20 cents." twich had never bought something that expensive, especially food, he shruged and handed the money over.

[Gwennie]

Gwennie arrived to the butcher's just in time to see twitch buy the tongue and immediately protested "eww! Dat wasn't very nice lady!" She yelled at Gabbi. Then she turned to Twitch "dat stuff's really gross, kid ya shouldn'ta bought it. do ya really wanna eat somethin's tongue, dat's almost as bad as eating a person or somethin'. 'Tink about it, do ya really want dead cow tongue touching your tongue dat's like kissin' a dead cow foah crissake! Even Marvin wouldn't go near dat 'an he's a dog!"

[muder]

<<new day>>

"...you're not working for my father anymore?" Heather smirked, looking at the butcher, shaking her head. "I can't honestly believe...you can't honestly expect me to believe you've gone clean, Richard."

"Well, misstress, you'll believe what you want to believe, won't you?" Richard looked down at his master's daughter. "And why shouldn't I just grab you now and turn you back in?"

Heather rolled her eyes. "Because do you honestly think I've stayed free this long because I'm stupid? Just give me the meat I ordered, Richard. You won't turn me in, I won't tell father that you've been touting youerself as a clean man."

[pirate]

Pirate watched the blond speak and lifted a brow as she spoke, why the hell did she look so familiar? He couldn't place it really and his dark eyes traced her form, speaking of fathers and clean living had him thinking of Marauder and Corsair. He snorted, those two trying to revive the guild was like puppies trying to run a pound in his mind.

He caught a scent on the air and stepped beside the woman, that scent-- reminded him for Monk Eastman's girl. He'd only seen her once and it was from behind Buccaneer's back as the older kid had given the gangster some dirt on a fellow gangster but this woman-- could she really be that?

As he ran the conversation over in his mind again a smile curled is lips, ah-- but that would be dangerous so he backed up a little. He wanted to get some cheese-- it would keep longer.

[Scar Bourke]

Scar finished his cigarette before stepping into the store, his gaze quickly sweeping the people already in there. He was trying to judge just how long he was going to have to wait for his meat. When his eyes landed on a petite blonde he smirked, immediately recognizing the Eastman traits. "Oi, lass, your a long way from home ain't ya?"

He was pretty polite about considering the anomisty he had towards the family. Beyond being a friend of Paul Kelly's in his opinion Monk Eastman was a complete and utter moron and any offspring he has must fall into the same category. Scar leaned against the wall and just gave her a dead stare, while contemplating getting ham or chicken.

[muder]

Heather sensed someone behind her, and then she heard another come in..and speak.

This suddenly went from a casual conversation time, to something a lot more worrysome. Damn. Putting a hand on her hip, where one of her kinves was hidden, nodding to Richard. "Why don't you go in the back and see if my meat is read, hmm?" Her dark green eyes flashed. She knew where he kept the shotgun--she'd be able to reach it if she was fast; but only if she needed it. She knew Richard could easily say no, to turn her in, but thankfully he had always liked her, and disappeared into the back.

Turning around, she first regarded the silent one--he wasn't familiar, and from what she could tell, he wasn't with the other.

Still she was at a severe disadvantage. Both seemed to know her, but she didn't know them. This was not how she had planned on spending the day.

Looking over at the darker man, the one who spoke, staring as if he had her number, she smirked, letting her eyes rake over his frame, clucking insolently.

"Well if you know where my home is, you also know that I'm not red riding hood waiting to be pray to a Wolf. Unless you are an ass, and assume things about people you don't know." She pressed her back into the butcher's glass. She had to trust in Richard keeping out of this. She just hoped it didn't actually come to anything.

The light haired one..she...well she kept her eye on him, but didn't speak to him yet. This darker one was the hair trigger.

[Scar Bourke]

Scar grinned, "Ah your words wound me, dear girl. I was only making an observation." He didn't know her well enough to know what she was capable of but the way her hand drifted to her hip her knew she had a weapon on her. He non-challantly shifted his weight so he could easily reach for his pistol if she did something stupid.

"I don't think I've made too much of an ass of myself by assuming you belong to Monk." He lifted an eyebrow in question. "Not many people, let alone women, carry themselves like an Eastman does or get have the features of one either." His stare intensified a bit as he let his eyes drift lazily over her body. "Although I haven't seen many as easy on the eyes as you."

When her gaze shifted between him and Pirate he spared the man a glance, recognizing him immediately as the fellow from the docks. He never forgot a face and he wasn't going to begin doing that now. "I think you may have the wrong idea," Of course, she probably had the right idea but the lie flowed from his mouth so easily it very well could have been the truth.

[pirate]

Pirate looked at Scar and lifted a brow, his eyes narrowing at him before he lifted his hands to the woman who looked ready for a fight. He stepped between the two and put his hands up, "Now, now, now, what's all this then?" he looked back at Heather, giving neither one his back but both his sides.

He turned and looked at Scar, lifting his brow, "Your that bloke from the docks with those kids huh? Why don't you put the sharp tongue away, huh? It's getting a bit chilly in here and I've got some cheese to get without getting blood in it.."

[muder]

"I don't think I've made too much of an ass of myself by assuming you belong to Monk." He lifted an eyebrow in question. ...."Although I haven't seen many as easy on the eyes as you." "I think you may have the wrong idea,"

Heather cursed inwardly. He was moving like a damn wolf, alright. And he had more than a knife on him. This simply wasn't fair. She gets away from her father, trying to bide her time, and yet she is still held to her father. Fine. He'd die, she'd take control...prove things.

When his eyes drifted over her body, she smirked, putting on a sickeningly sweet smile, the malice sparking in her eyes. "Ah, you must be one of Kelly's men. Glad you find me so, pleasing." Many considered the women loose anyways. Let him think that. Her brother died years ago. She was the sole heir...and while he could be thinking many things about her, he wouldn't survive anything if he tried to touch her.

"And do I have the wrong idea?" She shifted foward a bit, taking a step, challenging. "...Tell me how. And I don't see it quite fair that you know who I am...and I don't know you, sir.." She wouldn't back down. Never in her life, had she backed down. Not now, not against a Kelly man.

"Now, now, now, what's all this then?"

"...excuse me?" Heather had nearly stabbed the man when he moved suddenly between them, but managed to keep her hand off her knife. She was highly annoyed with this new fellow. She didn't need someone else to try and defuse things. It was the Kelly versus the estranged Eastman. He was picking a strange fight to get between.

[pirate]

Pirate looked at the woman when she spoke, yeah he was right she was Eastman's girl alright there was no mistaking those eyes, that hair-- or that mouth. Rolling his eyes he pulled out a long barrel revolver from his overcoat pocket, if she was going to go after him with her knife she'd have a fight.

Almost as if he'd had a change of mind he whipped out the gun in the fashion of any lawman-- or outlaw and offered it to Heather. "Well miss, I seem to have chosen sides in this argument.."

[Scar Bourke]

"Ah, you must be one of Kelly's men. Glad you find me so, pleasing."

Scar smirked at Heather's reply, loving the fire in the girl. "I'm more of a friend than a lackey, I'm sure that's what you were referring too. " He didn't like to be thought of as someone who followed instructions, if Paul asked him to do something in his round-a-bout way Scar would make sure it was taken care of. He wasn't one to put up with some of Kelly's outbursts though. Althought as of yet, Scar hadn't done anything to earn an outburst. He took care of business and he did it quickly and quietly without attracting a lot of attention.

"And do I have the wrong idea? ...Tell me how."

With a grin, Scar simply strummed his fingers across his side, "Well, like I was said I was just making an observation. Not like I came in here, guns blazing and said boo Eastman, you're dead." His grin widened a bit and a shine came to his eyes, although he wouldn't have minded doing such a thing he knew better.

"And I don't see it quite fair that you know who I am...and I don't know you, sir.."

Scar took a slight bow, "Scar Bourke, miss." He could be polite when he felt the need to be. He really hadn't been looking to start trouble, maybe just stir the pot a bit. He came in here to buy some meat, not to fight with a pretty girl.

Almost as if he'd had a change of mind he whipped out the gun in the fashion of any lawman-- or outlaw and offered it to Heather. "Well miss, I seem to have chosen sides in this argument.."

The moment Scar saw the flash of a gun, his face turned ugly and moved with such speed that it was clear he'd spent his entire life training to fight. He grabbed Pirates arm and slapped the gun away. "Now, now mate, why don't you play nicely. We were just talking and then you go and step in." He pulled his arms back and shoved Pirate with all his strength to send him back into the wall before stepping back to his original position and grinning sinisterly at them both.

[pirate]

(Sorry Lindsey needed to get this out of the way before Murder acted-- and she's going too))

Pirate didn't even flinch and the slap didn't get the gun away, it was actually far to important to Pirate for it to get very far and he caught it in the air before he was slammed against he wall, he snorted indignantly all the play out of his eyes at the remark.

"Choosing sides," he said flatly, his voice besieged of all the lightness it had had before. "She doesn't need the gun, she could kill you were you stand and I'm pretty sure of that but you touch me again and you won't be walking out of here and it won't be by her means that the gravedigger will have new work.. you got me?"

Suffice it to say the price, Jasper didn't like being manhandled by anyone and the only reason Scar had managed it was by catching him a bit more off guard than usual but it wouldn't happen again. Handing his weapon to Murder was about a show of loyalty and he had a feeling that there was going to he a show down over Eastman's and Kelly's soon enough.

"Kelly's not even Irish, he's Italian you idiot.."