The Gambler - OPEN

[mike]

*NOTE: This thread is open to everyone. Knowledge of poker is not required to join this thread.

Although rare there were females who played high stakes poker. If you have a female character and would like to join the invitation has been extended.

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At the rear of the room Mike Holt found a poker game with a peddler, three ranchers and a buffalo hunter. Two of the ranchers considered themselves high rollers and the buffalo hunter, who had sold three wagonloads of hides that afternoon, was loaded with cash. The third rancher seemed to know what he was doing. The stakes were set for anything up to fifty dollars, with a ten-dollar ante.

Holt was out of their league. The men, all but one, were mediocre gamblers, several notches below the competition he'd faced in Dallas. They lacked the insight into percentages and odds, often playing on the come, hoping to improve a poor hand. The buffalo hunter, a tough, thickset man who smealled of rancid hides, was the worst of the lot. A heavy drinker, loud and belligerent, he bluffed wildly trying to buy pots. He was a steady loser.

By late evening Holt was ahead by at least a thousand dollars, a good part of it had been won from the buffalo hunter, who was as easy to read as an open book. He became more pugnacious as his losses mounted, his anger fueled by whiskey. His resentment was directed more at Holt than the others as he saw his money slowly being neatly stacked on the opposite side of the table where Holt was sitting.

Toward midnight he and Holt were the only players left in a hand of five card draw. Holt bet fifty after the draw and the hunter raised. Holt returned the raise.The man grunted coarsely, his features twisted in a scowl.

"Gawddamnit! I'll just call. But chew'd better have 'em!"

"I do," Holt replied, spreading his cards. "Three nines."

Behind them at the bar a fight ensued between two men. A cowhand punched the other in the face with his fist. He went sprawling to the floor but bounced back up to and the two cowhands squared off in a windmilling slugfest. A hulk known as Magowan dragged them both to the door and, one by one, literally threw them out by the seat of their pants into the street outside.

Holt reached for the pot. The hide hunter snarled, "Bet chew never won a fight in yer life, did chew?"

"I prefer poker to fisticuffs. Let's play cards."

"Listen to him, will ya! Gawddamned fancy pants all tricked out in his fancy duds. Whyn'd ya go play with girls?" he opened his mouth in a mocking laugh showing rotten teeth.

Holt fixed him with a level gaze. "I'm not looking for trouble."

"Well, ya done found it," the hide hunter growled. "Think I'll jest whip yer ass fer the hell of it!"

"His looks do menace heaven and dare the gods."

"What's thet agin? You makin' fun of me?"

"Indeed not," Holt said. "The line was written by Christopher Marlowe, an Englishman of letters. He might have written it for you."

"Thet's it, you pansy sombitch! I'ma gonna cripple you!"

Holt stood as the man started out of his chair. He smiled, "I see you are heeled. Use it or turn tail."

"You wanna try me with a gun?"

"Only if you insist."

The hide hunter laughed out loud. His eyes crazed, he grabbed for the pistol at his side and pulled it. Too quick to follow, Holt's hand dipped beneath the skirt of his jacket and reappeared with a Colt. He fired and a puff of smoke kicked off the buffalo man's shirt beneath the breastbone. Holt fired again as the man struggled to bring his pistol arm level. His eyes went dead and his legs crumbled beneath him. He toppled to the floor

The crowd stood as though mesmerized, frozen in silence. No one moved as Holt holstered his pistol in a smooth fluid motion.

Mike Holt had arrived in De Fuego.

[kydd]

Casper Boscoe-Kydd walked the streets of ole Del Fuego with a pronounced swagger of a self-made and self-styled man. He nodded his head, winked his sparkling blues at passing ladies and proclaimed howdy to all in sundry as he passed them by. He was boundless in his good charm and enthusiasm - so much so that he didn’t notice the rolled eyes or scornful looks of those inclined to greet so merrily.

But Casper was imminently pleased with himself. He had settled himself into the Inn, after a few stumbles along the way, and had changed into one of his finest suits to make his grand appearance on the streets of Del Fuego. His destination was of course the Blackbird Saloon. He was eager to announce his arrival and to make a splash at the tables early on to make his reputation in town.

Unlike other professional gamblers Kydd knew that his rep was still in the making but he knew too that his star was in ascendance. One day his name would be famous and they’d come from afar to try their hand against Casper Boscoe-Kydd. But today was the continuation of that dream come reality as he sauntered the streets proudly, chin held up high acting as if all the world were his oyster.

He came to the doors of the Blackbird Saloon and stopped a moment, gazing upon its edifice. In there, he could make his fortune and make his name as a card ace. It required luck as much as skill and Kydd had both of those. Yeah sure, he seemed to get into the odd scrape now and again but he always seemed to land on his feet and come out smiling. Usually.

He tugged on his smart waistcoat and resolved his fluttering feelings at the prospect of making his entrance. He shook out his hands and checked the cant of his hat and the hung ivory pearl pistols at his hips before stepping forward. As he did, he collided with an angry female was fast departing the premises!

She barged into him without even seeing him and the force of it spun Kydd right round and near tipped him over into the horse water trough. “Whoa!” he declared, steadying himself from tipping over and ruining his good suit. “Sure am sorry ma’am. I dinna see ye there. Yer beauty must ave blinded me.” He tried by way of apology but she was long gone.

Casper shrugged and turned to enter the saloon again. He strolled in and for a fraction of a second heads turned his way to see who the new arrival was. The patrons inside probably had a variety of assessments about Kydd. Some no doubt turned to see a rather thin and gawky reed of a kid dressed in too fine a clothes to be staying Del Fuego for long. Some probably reckoned him to be an easy mark. Others rolled their eyes and figured the kid had thought to dress himself up when the whores were a sure thing and only required silver to pass their palms.

None recognised him as Casper Boscoe-Kydd but hey he figured he had to make a start somewhere so he sauntered on in up to the bar and smiled at all who looked his way, real friendly like.

“Howdy barkeep. Pour us your strongest finest whiskey.” He rapped the bar counter with his knuckles to indicate the spot before him. He looked about him with his chin high and proud and imagined he was making a grand gesture before the patrons.

The barkeep complied with the request, his moustache working as he probably grumbled under his breath about impudent pups. Casper meanwhile kept on smiling as he surveyed the room. He turned to put his back to the counter and leaned back with his elbows for support, a posture that showed his polished pistols and fancy duds.

The barkeep set the drink down and took payment from the stranger. Kydd thanked him profusely and asked him for another as he took the whiskey glass between pinched fingers. Then with a swift throw back of his hand and his throat his swallowed the glass in one. And then broke into a fit of breathless coughing as the fire burned his throat, hit his stomach and robbed his lungs of air. He pulled a grimaced face and his eyes watered as the strong drink hit home.

“You sure you want another.”

“He replied hoarsely, “Course my good man. Shows it’s good stuff ... don’t it.” He broke off to cough some more, fully expecting to see one of his lungs land on the floor at his feet. “I’ll have a tankard of ale too to ... chase it down.” He rubbed his throat with his hand and cleared his throat of the frog there.

He looked about askance worried that his rather ignominious display had made a bad first impression. Thankfully, most folk in the bar had their attention turned to the far corner where Kydd observed a rather tense game of cards was happening. He smiled to himself. He was sure in the right place.

He thought he’d sit back at the bar and take in the ambience of the place and get the measure of the establishment with its growing name on the circuit. The barkeep set the whiskey shot and tankard down before him and Kydd once again thanked him profusely. He then took a grateful gulp of the ale to try and cool his throat.

Leaning back Kydd took in his surrounds. The place looked right fancy and the women ... well they all looked right fancy too. He gave them all winning smiles but he kept returning his attention to one particular game in the saloon. As yet, he’d seen no sight of the famed Doc Holliday but Kydd recognised a pro for sure at the table.

He doubted though that the other men at the table had reckoned that fact and Kydd observed as the game proceeded with the pot getting larger and the man winning more and more of it. The poor man who looked like someone had dragged him through a ditch seemed to be the biggest loser of them all.

Normally in a new situation such as this one, Casper would have been chatting and nattering to all in proximity. He were a real friendly bloke after all. Kydd enjoyed getting to know people. He pah always said most folk were good folk and worth the trouble to get to know. So Kydd always made sure to introduce himself and make himself known to any strangers. Strangers were just folk who just weren’t friends yet. But he took careful stock of the high roller, checking how he played and if he had any tells.

Caught up in observing the game, Kydd forgot his earlier reaction to the shot of whiskey and took the second glass in hand and tossed it down his throat. Again he started a coughing splurge and fit that had Casper reaching for the tankard of ale to sate the burning throat. He gulped it down greedily thankful for the small mercies of the amber liquid. He sighed and a look of peace passed as he finished the tankard and the fire of the whiskey dissipated.

The barkeep came up with another tankard and murmured, “Not much of a whiskey drinker are we?”

“Heh, just not use to so fancy a stuff!” Casper replied bashfully but trying to put a bit of a bravado turn to it. He turned around again to observe the far card game and savoured the tankard of ale as he studied the card player. He was definitely a pro and Kydd found himself marvelling at the man’s playing. So ... this was what his competition would be like. Del Fuego was going to be an interesting place for sure.

He grew worried though as the game seemed to escalate and Kydd hid his nervousness behind drinking his ale when suddenly the table seemed to get into a whole ruckus and ... the hide hunter laughed out loud, grabbing for his pistol. Kydd’s eye went wide with alarm. The card player was about to be shot down - thoughts flashed immediately to the death of his da when he were only a lad in that instant - but before he knew it the card player was surrounded by a pall of smoke that drifted away to reveal the pistol in his hand.

The sudden gun fire made Casper choke and he sprayed his drink over the bar just as the card player fired again and the hide hunter toppled to the floor.

Kydd was among the now standing crowd who all stood about in stony silence mesmerized. No one moved as Holt holstered his pistol in a smooth fluid motion. Kydd stood slack jawed horrified and appalled and amazed and in awe at the moustached, blue eyed, quick shooting, card player.

After a moment he got a sense of his stupefied look and turned to the man beside him. "Did you see that? Wow."

[anskee5]

"Did you see that? Wow."

"I sure did," came the amused reply to the question. The melodic voice caressed his ears with the Tidewater Virginian accent. "The buffalo hunter drew first. Some people just can't hold their liquor. I'd say the blonde man is a high roller for sure, don't you?" he asked the obviously still wet-behind-the-ears young man. "A living dog is better than a dead lion. Ecclesiastes 9 verse 4."

"The usual, Doc?" the barkeep asked.

"Thank you, Sam. You are most gracious," the voice spoke again. The bartender poured a glass of expensive whiskey and laid the bottle beside it. Several coins hit the top of the bar in payment.

Lighting up a cigarillo he blew out the smoke and watched as the body of the buffalo hunter was carried out of the saloon and taken to the undertaker. "Care for one?" he asked the boy offering him one of the prerolled cigarettes.. They were one of the few brands that could be bought premade..

"The high roller is good. He waited until the other one drew first. Can't convict a man for trying to protect himself. Do you play, stranger?" he asked him as he downed the drink with no effort and poured himself another one. "Care to join me in a drink?" he held the whiskey bottle up. " I look upon every day to be lost, in which I do not make a new acquantaince."

[kydd]

"The buffalo hunter drew first. Some people just can't hold their liquor. I'd say the blonde man is a high roller for sure, don't you?"

“I reckon so for sure. Course he ain’t the only high roller about here.” Kydd preened tugging the lapels of his smart suit oblivious to whom he was talking to, his eyes rooted on the high roller and the crowd around him. The man to his side then quoted some scripture, which had never been Casper’s forte; he always did find his attention wandered in the church to look at the pretty girls sitting in their pews.

“If you say so and it says in scripture so, I suppose so.” He turned to face the man and furrowed his eyebrows together in a concerted look of concentration. There was something very familiar about the man.

Then the barkeep addressed him by ‘Doc’ and Casper was almost floored. Having only but lost his stupefied look Casper turned to fully look at the dapper man beside him. Then once again the shock of seeing what he was seeing caused him to be slack jawed once more. He was standing by thee Doc Holliday! The man printed on posters and touted as the best high roller in the land.

Kydd watched the classy style of the man, the expensive drink he bought, the casual manner in which he paid for it, the rolled cigarette. The sight of the whiskey almost brought a memory of the fire in his throat back but Kydd caught himself from making a fool in front of the famed card player. It was then that he realised that Holliday had offered him a cigarette! How long had he stood there unresponsive? How much of a dunderhead was he presenting as?

He licked his lips and swallowed spit to moisten his suddenly dry mouth. Here was an idol before him. “Y...y...yeah. Sure. That’d be ... nice.” Nice!? Kydd berated himself. He had said nice to Doc Holliday!

Worse still he didn’t even smoke! Yet he took the proffered smoke and put it to his dry lips. The cigarette seemed to sucker onto his lip and as Kydd let go of the prerolled cigarette it dangled from his lip. He snatched up quickly and allowed for the cigarette to be lit. “Thanks.”

He took a drag on the cigarette and felt the rush of smoke rush into his throat and lungs. His throat stung with the smoky bite and his eyes watered. He managed to cough the smoke down and then expel it, none too clever like, but without too much of a scene. He then managed to give a strangled and high pitched response to the smoke. “Nice.”

At this present moment in time he’d have taken a shot of the fire burning whiskey to quench the taste from the cigarette. Doc meantime was expounding on what had gone down. Kydd could only nod at the man’s words - he weren’t ever gonna disagree with a man of his reputation - and presently he couldn’t speak (a real rarity for Kydd) because of the effects of the cigarette.

But the man’s last question caused Kydd to swallow the smoke and bile in his throat and form a response. “Do you play, stranger?"

Casper felt green at the gills with the cigarette but his enthusiasm was unbounded. “I play. Yes. Yes. I do play. Play cards that is. Came in on the train, just earlier today, yes sir I did. Came all the way out here to play cards.” Kydd gestured with his hands and went wide eyed as his cigarette waved before him and he feared setting fire to his clothes or worse still scorching Doc’s fine threads. He tried to reign in his hands as he talked but he always waved them about when he was excited and allowing his mouth to run off with him.

“Taught by my grandpapa in the saloons of New York City I were. Hit the circuit to make my fame and fortune. Name’s Kydd, Casper Boscoe-Kydd.”

"Care to join me in a drink?" he held the whiskey bottle up. “I look upon every day to be lost, in which I do not make a new acquaintance."

“I reckon I’d love that sir, Mister Doc. I mean Mister Doc Holliday.” Casper was flustered for a second unsure how to address the man he saw as a legend even though Holliday were a young man too but he were a man of the world and Casper was but a new man trying to make his uncertain way in it. He stuck out a hand to shake Holliday’s quickly retracting the hand that bore the cigarette lest he set fire to Doc’s suit. “ Heh. Real nice to get acquainted with ye Mister Holliday. I think the same thing too. My pah he were a lawman but he always reckoned we ought to greet every stranger with a smile for a stranger were but a friend you hadn’t met yet. So that’s just what I do. I greet people with a smile and get to talking. Only way to get to know a person is to talk to them, yes sir it is.”

As per usual, Kydd neglected the part where he were supposed to permit the other person to talk and would have continued babbling but for the fact he took the offer of the drink and once again grimaced as the burning sensation ran down his throat causing another coughing spat. an impression he were making to Doc Holliday! Hopefully the other high roller wouldn’t see him in this state and reckon him to be green.

To try and redeem himself Casper stuck the cigarette back in his mouth and tried to act casual, smiling weakly at Holliday. That was when, just as he was taking a risky drag on the cigarette someone came up behind him and clapped him on the back - causing yet another coughing fit. Bent over and through watering eyes Casper spied the generously offered cigarette now laying on the floor.

[mike]

As Mike stood back watching the buffalo hunter's body being taken out he figured the Sheriff would be showing up directly so he looked around for somewhere to wait as the table and area around it was now covered with blood.

Over by the bar he recognized the famous dentist talking with a much younger man. The two seemed to be friendly although the kid looked like a greenhorn and demonstrated it with a matching green hue to his countenance. It was almost comical to watch as the younger man had a cigarette hanging from his mouth in an attempt to appear as suave as his famous companion.

Moving over to the bar he slapped the boy on his back as a greeting To his dismay he seemed to have caused the young fellow an unexpected amount of distress.

To try and redeem himself Casper stuck the cigarette back in his mouth and tried to act casual, smiling weakly at Holliday. That was when, just as he was taking a risky drag on the cigarette someone came up behind him and clapped him on the back - causing yet another coughing fit. Bent over and through watering eyes Casper spied the generously offered cigarette now laying on the floor.

"You alright there, Pardner?" he asked hearing the coughing and seeing the cigarette on the floor. He looked at Doc uncertain of what to do. "I didn't mean to hurt your friend. I wanted to introduce myself to you. I'm Mike Holt. I was in Little Rock when you were playing at Dirty Nelly's. You were spectacular. You broke the bank," he laughed.

Turning to Kydd he asked, "You alright there, son? Barkeep, give my new friend here another drink and give me one, also. In face, make it a bottle." The bartender did as Mike asked as he dropped the payment on the bar with some of the money he had won from the buffalo hunter. "Here, boy, Have a drink on me," he poured some of the high quality whiskey into the glass in front of the greenhorn. "What's your name, son?" he asked him. "I like to call my friends by their name."

[kydd]

Kydd tried to say he was alright but it came out as some sort of squeak instead. Kydd hardly even heard what the gambler called himself but he picked up that the man was a player for sure referring to past places and games where he had seen Doc Holliday play. But Casper was too busy getting his breath back to hear much of their exchange.

The man had the same flourish and casual style of Holliday that much was for sure - and apparently the same taste in alcohol. Kydd grimaced but did not want to offend or lose face by declining the offer. “Mighty kind of you sir,” he accepted wearily and with a hoarse throat. He near threw up as the glass was set out before him.

“Eh?” Casper gave his head a shake to clear his thoughts after downing the glass. He grimaced once more but this time managed to curtail his reaction somewhat to the alcohol in his throat. Maybe he could develop a liking for it after all. His stomach protested that suggestion and churned with the onslaught of sharp spirits in his system.

To introduce himself, Kydd reclaimed some of his swagger and puffed out his chest proudly (even though he were still green around the gills). “Kydd. Casper Boscoe-Kydd. Pleasure to meet you. I play cards too ... ahem ... excuse me ...” Kydd tried to clear his throat and dampen down the gorge he fell rising in his throat. “A ... regular ... saloon ... casino player ... me.”

He then leaned back to appear casual even though it were because he swore he was about to fall over from the spin of the Earth at this precise moment. But Kydd miscalculated where the bar counter and where his elbow ought to be going to perch at a jaunty stance against the bar and with a ridiculous fumble fell slumped between two stools instead.

"Whoa! What 'appened?"

[anskee5]

I'm Mike Holt. I was in Little Rock when you were playing at Dirty Nelly's. You were spectacular. You broke the bank."

"Nice to meet you, Mike," Doc shook his hand. "Ah yes, Little Rock," Doc looked up with a grin as though he were reminiscing, which he was. "That's been some time back. I was told never to come back," he chuckled and coughed, covering his mouth with a handkerchief and took a drink. "Met a very lovely lady there. Her name was Alice and she was indeed lovely," he gave them both a knowing grin.

Kydd. Casper Boscoe-Kydd. Pleasure to meet you. I play cards too ... ahem ... excuse me ...” Kydd tried to clear his throat and dampen down the gorge he fell rising in his throat. “A ... regular ... saloon ... casino player ... me.”

Doc grinned at Kydd's declaration of a regular saloon casino player and caught Mike's eye. The two seemed to share a silent joke between them. "I was just about to ask my friend, Kydd, here to join me in a game of five card draw. Would you care to join us, Mike?" Doc asked him.

He then leaned back to appear casual even though it were because he swore he was about to fall over from the spin of the Earth at this precise moment. But Kydd miscalculated where the bar counter and where his elbow ought to be going to perch at a jaunty stance against the bar and with a ridiculous fumble fell slumped between two stools instead. "Whoa! What 'appened?"

Doc reached down to help Kydd up along with Mike and helped to right him on his feet. "I think we need to get Kydd a chair to sit in before he falls over and hurts himself. Sam," he turned to the bartender, "If you would be so kind as to bring our drinks over to a table I'd be greatly appreciative, sir."

"Both yours and the gentleman?" Sam asked, nodding his head towards Mike Holt.

"Yes sir, and this young fellow's, too. Thank you, Sam. There's a table further in," Doc told Mike. "Let's go there. There will be fewer prying eyes."

With Mike's help they made their way with the wobbly Kydd in tow safely to a vacant table and chairs deep inside the casino that was preserved for high rollers only. Sam brought their glasses and bottles over, setting them on the table. "If it's all the same, Sam, we'd like to have a private game, if that's alright, that is?"

"Anything for you, Doc." It was obvious the barkeep admired Holliday. Snapping his fingers some men who worked there brought some folding, wooden screens over and set the up around the table where the three of them sat. The screens helped to make them feel more private even though they weren't.

"Now, that's better," Holliday grinned as he filled the glasses up with the high quality whiskey. "To friends," Doc cheered, holding his glass high and then downed the drink. The more he drank the less he seemed to cough, which was fine with him.

[Evangeline Redwood]

Evangeline enjoyed the freedoms that her father’s absence allowed her. To be fair, she did love her father, but when around him, she was forced to be a right proper lady. In his absence, she could be whatever she wished to be. And that was the greatest gift that could be offered. So she had decided earlier that evening, after finishing with the horses for the day, that she was going to spend her evening in the Blackbird Saloon, amusing herself with drinks and poker. She had bathed and dressed to the nines in a green and black dress that would set off the creamy color of her skin and the rich volumes of her hair.

Dark curls were left down to frame her almost innocent looking face and ample body, a black fan held in one hand and a small purse held in the other. She made her way into the saloon with a gentle swaying of her hips, the only sound she made the gentle whisper of her skirts along the floor. She made her way directly to the bar, leaning on it to speak to the barkeep.

“Evenin’, Sam.” She greeted in a coquettish Southern drawl, and the barkeep immediately smiled to her.

”Evening, Miss Redwood. Here for a game?”

“Yes, sir, I am. But…I think I want somethin’ a little more high class, if you catch my drift.” Evangeline was a proud woman, a high class woman, and she didn’t often play if it wasn’t with high stakes. High stakes and high antes kept the rabble out of the game…usually.

The barkeep nodded, smiling, and grabbed a bottle of fine whiskey from beneath the bar. The young woman grabbed a few coins from her purse and placed them on the bar in exchange for the bottle. ”There’s a private game in the back, three gentlemen, one of ‘um is Doc Holiday.”

Evangeline smiled, taking the bottle, and nodding that she understood. Doc Holiday? Well this would be a treat. She gathered herself up tall and proud before gliding across the room to the back where the screens were. She stopped outside for a mere moment, taking opportunity to make sure she looked absolutely perfect before stepping around the screens to observe the three gentlemen at the table.

One was a kid, nothing more than that. If he was older than she was, it wasn’t by much. And he carried himself with the ignorance of a boy tried to make himself look much more self assured than he was. The other man was a stranger to her, an out of towner most likely, one who liked to play as big as she did, bt the looks of it. The third she knew to be Doc Holiday. She had never met the man, but he was the only one in the room that had the same Southern sophistication that she did. Most definitely Doc Holiday.

A kittenish smile crept onto her face as she observed the three, dark whiskey colored eyes watching them. She then moved around the table to the empty chair between the two older gentlemen and placed her hand on the back of it. Even the way she walked radiated a pure sex appeal, but not an overstated one. She definitely didn’t act like a harlot, but Evangeline prided herself on being the type of woman women wanted to be, and the type that men were dying to get their hands on. She cast her eyes to the two older men before spoke, in the purring tones laced with a Georgia accent.

“Well, it’s nice to see someone besides the normal rabble in this place. D’y’all mind a fourth player? Unless you think I might be a distraction.” The last words were meant in jest, completely a tease. She turned her whiskey colored eyes to the kid finally, pit viper eyes, with a kind of fire that had been built from years on the top. “I sure would like the company.”

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[anskee5]

“Well, it’s nice to see someone besides the normal rabble in this place. D’y’all mind a fourth player? Unless you think I might be a distraction. I sure would like the company.”

Seeing the lady come around the wooden screens he immediately rose to his feet and removed his hat. It was obvious from her dress and manner she was from wealth and breeding, a true Southern woman in every aspect. When she walked she seemed to float across the floor, when she spoke she filled the air around her with sweetness. Doc had so missed the culture and style of his home state of Georgia. It was the custom of the South to teach your children manners and respect of elders that he missed in the West as well as the general lifestyle.

"Not at all, dear lady," he smiled politely at her, his rich Southern accent filling the air.. "It is always a delight to have the fairer sex join us." Reaching around her he pulled out the chair so she could sit. "It is a delight to have you join us and take the edge off of our crudeness with your finesse and grace.

Might I introduce my friends? This is a new acquaintance, Mr. Mike Holt, and this young fellow calls himself Kydd. My name is John Holliday but my friends call me Doc."

[kydd]

Kydd felt giddy but it weren’t the alcohol - well that were part of it - he was sitting down at a table about to play a game of cards with Doc Holliday. And although he didn’t know Mike Holt by reputation the man had clearly demonstrated his card playing and hip shooting abilities. Casper kept twisting his head from one figure to the other as if they would disappear in a wisp like a figment of his imagination. He severely doubted that he could get any more lightheaded.

Then in she walked. She was ... beauty personified ... she were a lady that much were fer sure but she were also an amazingly sexual being and Kydd gulped as his eyes drank in the sight of her. Her lithe toned body, her midnight lashes, her kittenish smile and whiskey eyes.

As he noted after the fact that Doc was proving himself to be every inch the southern gentleman Kydd rushed to his feet to try and do likewise. He only managed to knock his knees off the table, near topple the glasses of drinks set up on the table and tip over the stack of chips then sway when he finally managed to get to his feet.

At that point the woman had floated across the room to join them at the table. Doc was in the process of introducing them. Kydd had not listened to her words, merely smiled stupidly at the melody of her voice. His eyes moved from her sensual curves to the whiskey coloured eyes that captivated his heart. He gulped once more and quickly removed his hat to appear gentlemanly and to hide his suddenly ‘enamoured’ state.

He fell back into his chair, nearly falling over its back. “Hi... hi ... erm ... evening ma’am.”

[mike]

Mike had also bolted to his feet when the alluring lady came to their table, but it was all he could do to keep from laughing out loud at Kydd's clumsy attempt to copy the famous gambler. But he had to admit she was indeed a looker. Her accent was similar to Doc's and just as musical, There really was something about the Southern accent that sounded soothing. She could be cussing him out but the sound would make him smile and think of flowers and honey.

"Nice to meet you, Miss," he nodded. 'I'm sorry, I didn't get your name, he smiled brightly at her, his clear blue eyes sparkling.

[Evangeline Redwood]

Evangeline felt her kittenish smirk widen as Doc stood to welcome her to their table. The blond man with ice blue eyes did as well, and the the kid, clumsily, followed suit. She turned her face to him, fixing him with whiskey eyes and offering him a gracious smile, about to speak until he stuttered over his words and fell back into his seat. Her chair was pulled out by Doc Holiday, and she lowered herself down into her chair and scooted it in slightly. "Thank ya, Mr. Holiday." She purred sweetly, putting her purse on the table so she could pull the ante out when needed.

"It's nice to meet a fellow Georgia native this far west. After the war ended and the Confederate army dissolved, Papa decided we come here to pick up his horse breedin' business again. I do so miss my home." She sipped the dark amber liquid in her own glass before setting it down on the table, then turning her eyes to the man that had been introduced as Mr. Holt. "It's a pleasure to meet y'all." She crooned, looking at him from beneath thick, dark lashes. "I'm Evangeline Redwood. But let's all be right friendly here. Call me Evangeline."

She opened up her purse, turning her eyes from Mr. Holt, to Kydd, and then back to the famous Georgia gambler, fixing them all with a searing, fiey, and coquettish gaze. Still looking at Holiday, she took her gloves off and placed them in her lap, revealing soft, long fingered hands that ended in manicured nails. "So what's the ante gentlemen? And what's the game?"

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dress here

[anskee5]

Doc admired the Southern Belle as she moved around the table and sat down.in her chair. It was like being back home watching her.and it made him smile.

"So what's the ante gentlemen? And what's the game?"

Doc had a new deck of cards that he took out of the box and, tossing the jokers, began shuffling them. "Well, Miss Evangeline, this is a high rollers game," he gave Mike an amused grin. "How about fifty dollar ante with a thousand dollar raise limit? And the game is five card draw. Can y'all handle that?" he looked around at Mike, Kydd and back to her. "Or would you prefer something not quite so high?"

[kydd]

Kydd's eyes were probably as wide as saucers as he feasted upon the elegant beauty of the southern belle. She was classy and just simply beautiful. She called herself Evangeline. He wanted to ahh at that. it seemed so fitting. She was surely an angel.

And then more than that, she seemed to know and talk cards. Kydd was in love. he leaned forward in his chair, looking stupid no doubt with his puppy dog lovelorn look. He was simply bewitched by the woman who had made him forget he was in the same room as Doc Holliday.

That was until Doc took out a new deck of cards that he took out of the box and, tossing the jokers, began shuffling them. "Well, Miss Evangeline, this is a high rollers game," he gave Mike an amused grin. "How about fifty dollar ante with a thousand dollar raise limit? And the game is five card draw. Can y'all handle that?" he looked around at Mike, Kydd and back to her. "Or would you prefer something not quite so high?"

The question might have been for Miss Evangeline but there was no doubting that there was an intentional nod to Kydd too. In truth he blinked at the sudden serious turn of the game of cards. But then - what else had he expected. he had played in some high roller games back East but Casper realised now that perhaps those rollers were neither of the quality or as high a roller as these two gentlemen were.

Casper gulped but nodded in the affirmative that he were willing for the stakes as set out. 'Here goes' he thought but he could offer no words despite his usual vocal self for his tongue were as dry as a cactus' bum.

[mike]

Mike saw the look Doc gave him and grinned to himself but then took a drink from his glass to help keep him from laughing out loud. The man was slick, he'd give him that much. He was gallant enough and had a way of speaking about him that made it so that if he cussed you out you'd smile because it sounded so polite. He knew Doc most likely didn't mean anything unkind. He was checking out his competition. Smart. Very smart. He had to one up him somehow.

"If you need help with the ante I'd be honored to help you, Evangeline," he told her with a smile.