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Salvation Lost : Sins of Salvation -> The Town Square -> Big River
Post Info TOPIC: Big River
Brady Hawkes


The Gambler

Posts: 17
Date: Mar 15, 2009
Big River
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=As he stood on the deck of the Riverboat he looked out at scenery that seemed out of place. The boat made him feel like he aughtta be floating down the Mississippi with the smell of bilge and slow growing moss all around him. Instead he was surrounded by the views of the Riviera. This was only an imitation of the real thing, a gambling boat to give the Europeans another setting for losing their money to him. Even without the Eastern shore being lit up by the lights of the French shore he woulda known this wasn't home. This water didn't have that winding quality, and the feel of the air was different as it swept over him and stirred his long blonde hair.=

=Moments like these he missed those old days. Days when the river stretched out like a long white train. The sweet gentility of southern ladies and the kind of hospitality you only ever could hope to receive in the South. Brady'd been all over the damn world, wanderin' all around to find his way, but the true South would always be his home. Ain't no way to measure why he loved it more. Just was how it was. Behind him he could hear the sound of revelries from the gallery. Drinkin' and gamblin'. People living it up, but he felt a might quiet inside.=
 
=One hand gripped the rail of the ship deck and let himself lean slightly into the wind. With his other hand he reached for the chain of a gold pocket watch to tug the delicate metal and slide the watch from it's tiny pocket in his white vest. Undoing the clasp he opened the casing to check the time, and was relieved to see that they'd be docking in just a little over an hour. Already he was tryin' to suppose whether he could make it to the airport to catch the last flight to Rome.=
 
=When he'd stepped on the deck of the boat he'd been looking to turn a profit. To have a little fun while he was at it and see what came, but what he hadn't expected was to meet another of his kind. A man from France who said he was a Duke, but Brady could smell bullshit at ten paces. If this fella was a Duke then Brady was Mickey Mouse. One thing for sure though, whoever the man was he could play cards. There had been a moment near the end of the game where Brady had thought he might actually lose. That was when the supposed Duke had set a letter on the table to up the ante.=
 
=Now normally that would be a bit ridiculous, but this weren't just any old letter. It was a letter of intent from some tiger Horde in Italy looking for a Khan. Brady had scoffed at the man, what kind of Khan would this Duke make for anyone if he was already willing to give away the Horde in a card game. And when Brady walked away from the table chips in hand he had the letter as well, and a full intention of returning it to its owner. Least that's the excuse he used for wanting to take the letter to Rome 'stead of just throwing it away.=
 
=There was more to it than that though. It wasn't exactly the sorta thing he could pin down or point out. Just a feeling in his heart. Like an aching that was pulling him down the continent. Who knew why. But seeing as the Riviera had grown stale for him anyway it seemed like a good time to be moving on. The gold watch was dropped back into the small pocket on the side of his vest just where it was supposed to go. There'd be time to find the answers to his questions when he got where he was going. Or at least that was what he always told himself. He was becoming the king of the geographic cure with each passing year. But no matter how far you ran, you always carried the same old baggage. Yourself.=
 
=Behind him he heard a man clear his voice, and he turned calmly to look at the steward who had come to let him know that another table was being sat. A little over an hour till they docked. Should be enough time to turn a profit. Something to keep his mind off the things he treasured that were left behind. Something to keep his mind off what was in front of him. Gambling was what he did. As much a part of him as the stripped beast inside him, and in times of trouble it was a comfort that there would always be another sucker in the world.=


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Brady Hawkes


The Gambler

Posts: 17
Date: Mar 17, 2009
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=Now his Daddy hadn't been a fool. Hadn't sent his only son off into the world to become a ne'er do well, a gambler, or a rogue but that's just what Brady had become. Through no fault of his Mamma's good raisin' or his Daddy's strict rules he'd set out into the world to find a different sort of life from the one his brothers and sisters had settled into there in the lazy Georgia plantation homes that to him would always look just a little bit like a comfortable prison.=
 
=In searching for freedom he'd just gone and landed himself into a heap of trouble and a new kind of jail. Except this time he was caged from the inside out if you can follow the drift of the story. That beast inside was as restless and wild as any old coon dog roaming in the southern bayous. And as he'd grown with that beast he'd learned a thing or two about living in this kind of cell. Especially when it came to dealing with others of his kind.=
 
=As he sat on the Concord flight from Paris to Rome he thought about who these tigers were that he was going to find. What sorta Horde they was. After all you couldn't clump all groups of lycanthropes together. Shoot no. They were as different as night from day mostly. Now he had no idea what he was gettin hisself into, but he had a notion that it might be sketchy which to him sounded like fun.=
 
=One of the stews came by to check on him for what was about the twentieth time and he smiled politely with that charming southern lilt in his voice and thanked her just as he had before. Ignoring the look of disappointment on her face as she walked away. They'd be landing soon, or so said the pilot over the loudspeaker, and just the announcing of such a fact had his beast excited. Eager to roam and explore this new place. To catalogue the sights and smells and work at discovering what that nagging feeling was that kept pulling him forward like a moth being drawn to a flame.=


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