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Dorothy Freeman

"Don't think I have enough sense as to be afraid."

0 · 1,073 views · located in England

a character in “Smoke, Jazz, and Blood”, as played by Fredalice

Description

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Age: 31
Occupation: Maid to an apothecary
Sexuality: Bisexual
Nationality: English
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Appearance: Dod is an average height 5' 6" and is rather skinny with long, smooth legs. She has dark brown hair that's long, but often time she pins it up in small curls, so that it's no longer than a little past her chin. She also has a fondness for hats or other head wear and rarely leaves the house without something upon her head. She also doesn't leave the house, or really her room, without make-up on; sweeping eyeliner with smokey eyes and dark red lipstick. She isn't one to wear lots of jewelry and really only wears small pearl earrings and the odd bracelet or necklace. Her everyday wear really is only her uniform, a dark blue dress with a light blue apron. However what she likes to wear is clothes that look rich; lost of furs, velvets, and silks typically in darker colors, though she prefers to wear pants, button-up shirts, and a lovely coat. When she goes out, she likes to wear dresses that that end at the knee and have lots of beads on them.

Dod walks like she's got somewhere to be; quick-stepped and ploughing, typically having people trying to get out of the way. When she sits, she leans back, legs crossed, and one hand in the air holding her cigarette. When she stands, un-moving, she'll slump to one hip a leg slightly bent outward, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other's elbow weighing on it. She is also one to tap her foot, especially when listening to music stationary, making her seem as though she can't be still. Her eyes are dark grey, always focused and slow blinking. Her usually red lips are either smiling or slightly puckered, depending on whether she trying manipulate someone or genuinely having fun.
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Personality: Dod is what one would call a 'modern' woman. She's a single, working woman with a sharp tongue and mind active from far too much partying and drinking. She's an observer, people-watcher, this is what entertains her day-to-day life. From this her mind has become rather sharp, able to see smaller details that others overlook and remember them for a good amount of time, of course depending upon how well she was paying attention at the time. Her sharp tongue is what gets her into trouble though, not her mind. She'll as easily reveal one's secrets (to that person or someone else) as she would take a smoke. She also has a knack for being sarcastic and blunt, with men especially, and commanding with women (though not harshly commanding).

Her interests include drinking, dancing, smoking, sex, reading, people-watching/ease-dropping, studying, mixing (medicines), and puzzles. She likes tea over coffee, dogs over cats, whiskey over wine, velvet over wool, nature over concrete. She doesn't like classical music, just jazz. She also doesn't trust cops or reporters, so if she feels they aren't doing a good enough job she will feel the need to take over, thankfully her employer, and good friend, is usually there to pull her away otherwise she may insert herself somewhere in which she ought not to be.

When looking to the future she hopes to one day own her own home, a large garden, and her own apothecary store. She sees her current job as a maid as a sort of apprenticeship. She, however, does not see herself being married or having a family in future, she is perfectly content with where she is in her relationship status; a single woman who enjoys sex and isn't afraid to go after it. What scares her, she won't admit, she likes to present herself as being a very fiery and adventurous woman and if that reputation were to be taken down a notch, she would have to take others down a peg as well, however she's scared of not being control and of trapped or tied up and not being able to get out.
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History: Dod grew up in a rather rich family, where her nanny was more like a mother than her actual mother. Her nanny was also her best friend, she told Dod many stories about the adventurers who went to Mt. Everest, or sailed across stormy seas, or fought against the Huns in the East. After telling the stories the two would reenact them on the grounds surrounding the manor. When her parents punished her, which was often since she was growing up to be too nosy for a lady, they would lock her in a cupboard for indefinite amount of time (never long enough for any harm to her physically, but long enough for a fear to set in). Most grown-ups viewed her as being a bad little girl, she asked too many questions, she spread rumours around, she played outside in the mud instead of learning to crochet or sew. When she was old enough they sent her to an all girls school, there she learned that while most were opposed to it, she genuinely did like women and she often times flirted with them, though this was thought to be nothing more than just good friends. Though even there, surrounded by girls, she learned to be a serious lady.

Then World War One started, in 1914. It all, but destroyed Dod's hope. She survived and not by being a lady and by moving to Paris where lived out her days of the war. Dod had fallen in love many times by this time some men and a woman in England and with one woman and one man while in Paris. All ended with heartbreak one way or another, but that never diminished her ability to fall in love even by a little. When the war ended however she stopped taking everything so seriously. She joined most of the population in lifestyle of "living life to the fullest", meaning go to any and every party you can, never turn down a drink or a smoke, and keep on dancing. This also meant that once she got her job as a a maid and after the war ended she started travelling to anywhere she could, just for the hell of it to see what other places were like, even if they were only an hour's train ride away. She tries to travel somewhere new once a month and depending upon her funds will depend on how far she goes. That's how she came to be in Nottingham and how she was on that unfortunate train that night back to London; she had been visiting friends in Nottingham for the weekend, her funds for travelling a little shorter this time around.

So begins...

Dorothy Freeman's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Terry Gillet Character Portrait: Jackson Butler Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne
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Dod hummed to herself while opening her book, The Beautiful and Damned, to where she had left off last. She had come rather early for her train back to London and so she sat in an train cabin car waiting for the train to leave the station. There was a chatter around her from those on the station, children and parents yelling, others hollering their goodbyes, people crying. It was a mess of cacophony, but Dod rather liked it and it somehow helped her focus a bit more. Image

With her bags stashed away safely, Dod raised her feet onto the seats across from her. She could vaguely see people passing in the corridor looking in at her disapprovingly. A woman at her age by herself, wearing pants, it wasn't necessarily unheard of, but these were the kind of women that the general population was told to stay away from. Keep their distance, so they kept on walking, clucking their tongues as they went. Though a few men whistled as they went past, still Dod read on. All of this wasn't necessarily new to her and so she could easily ignore it all. The only time she would look up is when someone actually had the gall to walk into her cabin and sit down.

"Jeepers, creepers, where'd you get those peepers. Jeepers, creepers, where'd you get those eyes. How they hypnotise," Dod sang as more people began to board the train. She knew all to well that at least one person would be sitting with her eventually, especially when the rest of the train cabins started to fill up more and her cabin would start to be the only one left with a seat. It amused her to say the least, when people did this, she didn't know exactly why, maybe because their sense of pretension seemed so silly to her. Either way waiting to see who would be the first to sit with her was a sort of game she played with herself. If someone sat down just as the train started move she would reward herself with a shot of whiskey for winning the bet, if someone sat down earlier she was punished by having to buy the person a drink, which really wasn't a punishment other the fact that she would be down a couple of pounds.

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Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew
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LOTTIE ANDREW


Lottie was just beginning to panic as she sprinted through the crowded station to make her way to the last train heading to London. She had just barely missed her previous train the night before and she prayed her hardest that she would make this one. The horns were blowing, a signal that meant it was the last call for passengers to board. With her hat and ticket in one hand and her dark brown suitcase in the other, the blonde woman pushed through the dissipating crowds of people that filled the station and was aboard just as the train was ready to leave. The next thing she'd have to do was going to be just as difficult as finding her train; finding a seat.

After turning in her ticket, Lottie walked down the cramped, carpeted aisle of the passenger car, softly stepping on the tips of her toes as to not make a noise, and she found that nearly every single cabin was stuffed full of people—or rather, had more than three folks inside. She had been previously hoping to find an empty cabin where she could sit in comforting solitude for the duration of the trip. This seemed increasingly unlikely as the farther she went, the more people sat down. As she was about to give up and subject herself to a long ride with a family of strangers, she saw it. A cabin containing only one person. Lottie rushed over to the cabin as quickly as she could so that no one else could take it before she did. She stepped in, stuffed her bag on the shelf above the seats whilst pulling out a book, and sat down just in time as the train rattled and began moving.

The passenger across the cabin was a woman, looking only a few years older than herself. She was reading a book and didn't seem to notice Lottie, which she was grateful for. Removing her coat, setting it on the seat to her left, and placing her hat on top; she thumbed through her book and stopped on a random page.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne
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Everette flipped the shining coin into the air, and caught it once it came down. He tossed it up, and then he caught it. Toss, and then a catch. Toss. and then a catch. For the moments the silver object was suspended above his hand, he would make a bet to himself on which side it would land, and once it landed he would not look to find the victor but instead would just immediately toss it up again, repeating the bet. Immersed in thought, he considered the importance of these lost chances that he would never get back, moments that he could choose to haunt him forever that he would never actually know the truth to, and he wondered that if every lost opportunity was equal. If every true lost moment had the same worth, or if a passed happening has the same worth of others since they in a sense would be the same thing. Finally, he decided that him never being able to know the face of the coin was equal to, hypothetically, him never opening a lover’s letter or him never talking to a certain person. All of them had an equal number of infinite possibilities, the worth of pure possibility, and suddenly he could not help but look at the face, having flipped it over a hundred times no doubt. In his palm, a middle-aged man wearing a powder-wig suspended in time by a mirror prison gave him a sideways look, and Everette felt a release of tension as he solved the mystery.

Heads.

An abrupt sounding of a train whistle broke his concentration, and he looked around to see people by the hundreds have at some point swarmed around him, Everette being alone when he first arrived at the station. Fine he thought to himself, preferring to finish his thoughts, and he grabbed his suitcase as he boarded the train. The walkway was crowded with people bumping into one another, sadly Everette including, and dodging into any passenger car they could. The thought leaked over and suddenly crossed his mind that not jumping into a car would be a lost possibility, and he was overcome with the thought that all the cars were completely equal. He stressed at this, and wondered how he would ever decide. Suddenly, it occurred to him to use the object that drove him into this philosophical mess. He was to flip the quarter and when he finally won one of self-bets, he would immediately dive into that car. However, one after another flip, he would lose; he lost so much it became daunting to flip again. He was now officially starting to worry, and just when he was losing hope that his system was going to go without fault, a man bumped into him, knocking the coin into the churning sea of shuffling feet. Distraught, he decided that was the coin giving him his answer, and he dove into the nearest car.

Two women sat in this car, and he was surprised to see one wearing pants. The common progressive was nothing to blink at in America, but this had been the first he has seen while in English countryside. The second seemed a bit off, fearful of trains maybe, but even past that she seemed like the one to be reserved, so he decided to introduce himself to the dark-haired woman first.

“You got enough room in this car for an American?” he inquired, resuming the act of flipping his last American quarter dollar.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Jackson Butler Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne
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#, as written by museman
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The bench at the train station was cold. Almost too cold. Jackson got up from it and reached down and grabbed his briefcase and duffle bag from the ground. He made his way over to the train going to London and showed his ticket to the ticket inspector. He was given back his ticket and Jackson made his way aboard the train. The corridor was long and dreary. He slowly walked down until he reached bar car. It felt nice that prohibition was not in effect over seas.

The sight of men and few women drinking early in the morning was daunting. The fact that getting drunk in the morning was without worry bothered Jackson. He thought getting drunk at all was disgusting. He made him fear his father when he was still among the living. Jackson passed through and walked his way to a cabin. He turned and saw a woman in the cabin. She was singing a song. He had never heard the tune before, but it was an odd one. Jackson turned and saw another woman and a man too. He smiled politely at the three of them. He put his briefcase on the seat and his duffle on top of that.

Jackson didn't mind sharing a cabin with two other people. He is a quiet soul, but he is always up for a good rallying conversation. He left the cabin and made his way down the corridor to the bar car. He approached the bartender and gave him a quick nod. After slowly skimming the selection of alcohol he flicked his hand up and spoke "I'll have a scotch." The bartender poured Jackson his poison and slid it across the bar into his grasp. Jackson turned and walked back to the cabin with his drink. "I got myself a drink. Does anyone want one? I can go back."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Terry Gillet Character Portrait: Jackson Butler Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne
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“This is ridiculous!” Came shouts from one of the foremost cabins Disgruntled passengers looked on at the scene. Two men standing at the back of the cabin, facing off. The face off had already lasted ten minutes and it didn't look to be ending any time soon. “Does no one on this train appreciate the elegance of modern music?”

“We appreciate music sir, but some passengers have expressed their distaste for the kind of music that you've been playing. And besides, we are about to depart. Your phonograph will only skip and your recordings will be scratched.” One of the train's workers responded.

“I get it now. The stuffy Brits don't want to hear the offensive sounds of a Yank. Mark my words, years from now, when people stop listening to Ralph Williams, the sounds of George Gershwin will still be strong.” Terry said.

The air tasted foul with the stench of the argument and despite the cool weather, the train cabin was aflame with anger from many passengers and workers. The sounds, to Terry, were magical, but to most, they were just unwanted. Terry clasped his clammy palms in front of him and refrained himself from taking the argument any further.

“Regardless of your words, sir, I'll be taking the phonograph until we reach London.”

The whistle blew loud in the air and the sounds of the train's engine roared through the crowds outside waving away their loved ones as the train lurched across the tracks. Screeching metal slowly turned into a consistent rocking that echoed through the station. All of which played on top of the melody resonating from Terry's phonograph. The distinct smell of burning coal urged Terry to grab a cigarette from his breast pocket. He didn't light it just yet. Holding it alone was enough to calm his nerves. The worker went to his phonograph and lifted the needle. Now only the train's rumbles could be heard. “Might I suggest finding another cabin. One in which the patrons don't hate you.” The man said in such a way that you couldn't be offended by his words, but rather listen in awe of the correctitude of them

With that, Terry took out his lighter and lit his cigarette. He turned and exited the car. From one to the next, he went until he reached a car close to the back of the train. Every other cabin had been full up until that point. Terry had wished to have some room to stretch out his legs and enjoy the sounds of the train. If he wasn't allowed to listen to his own music, he was going to have to make due with what the world had to offer him.

The cabin that he chose to settle in was filled with only four people so far. The train had just started to move and other people were probably bound to come, stuck in the same sort of position as Terry had been, but for now, the cabin was comfortably filled. He was about to sit when he made a realization. The cabin was nearly empty, but almost everyone in the cabin had seemed to congregate around one area. Something interesting was happening and it sparked Terry's interest. He decided that he would go sit by the rest of the group as opposed to by his lonesome. Maybe he'd be interested in what these people had to offer him.

“I hope you all like music.” He said as he sat himself in the seat across from the others.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Terry Gillet Character Portrait: Jackson Butler Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne
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"That was a beautiful show young blood, beautiful!"

The smell of burning coal was heavy in the air here, the walkways were paved with bodies. Among them, two brown skinned men that stuck out like a sore thumb, walked side by side. The first, was a tall man. A pair of circular frames surrounded a pair of dark brown eyes, that were in turn, surrounded by dark circles. The mark of a man unfamiliar with sleep. Humming to himself, a guitar case in his left hand, he slowly reached for the Lucky Strike cigarette behind his ear with his right. With a match from his pocket, he lit it. He took a long drag. And with the slightest smile on his face, he exhaled the smoke. This, was Theolonius Alain Monke, the man, the myth, the legend.

"But your chord on that last one, you, you know, the one about that Maria bird, it was sloppy," This man, with his wrinkled ebony skin, scraggly grey hair, and hunched back, was Mr. Huey Nathaniel King. The mentor and manager to Theo. He held up his hands, grabbing a non-existent guitar. "It's like this, see right here, lemme show you..." Theo didn't look. Instead, his eyes were trained on something else entirely. A blonde haired woman, darting through the crowd. A horn, cutting through the human chaos of the station. And through all of this, Huey still droned on.

"Mr.King," Said Theo, checking his watch as he quickened his pace.

"Ya fingers move too quick down the neck, take your time, like you're..."

"Mr. King!"

"What...?" Huey stopped.

"That's our train! We gotta book it!" And with that, the two musicians went flying down the walkway, weaving through the crowd.

* * *

"Mister Monke! We were getting worried that you wouldn't make it!"

An attendant, a man in a blue pinstriped vest and pants greeted a wheezing Theo and Huey, the last two passengers to board the train. Huey was nearly on the ground he was so hunched over. Theo was right in the middle of an extended coughing fit.

"Yeah well, we made it baby..." Theo exhaled, as he huffed and he puffed, and he leaned up against a wall beside him.

"....We've made the accommodations to the presidential cabin you've requested, right down to the Bechet records and brand of whisky." With an outstretched arm, he gestured down the hall before them. "If you'd like I could show you the way, it's the last room at the end of the hall." The attendant reached for the men's bags and Theo's guitar. The duo obliged with nods, and they took off down the hall after the man in the pin-stripped duds. "I must say, it's a such a great honor to have you here with us today," He turned his head towards Theo, "I am a huge fan, I LOVE 'Jumpin' out the woods', I sing Sent For You with my wife every morning!"

"Thanks kid. You should see my writing." He cooed. On their way down the hall, Theo glanced into each of the cabins, peering into the passengers they contained. "Looks like we're the only black folks again..." It was a sentence whispered just loud enough for only Huey to hear. The old man chuckled, just a bit.

As they neared the end of the hall, Theo over heard a few voices.

"I got myself a drink. Does anyone want one? I can go back." Said a man from within the cabin beside him.

Over his shoulder, he took a closer look. There were four of them, three men, two women. The one woman, he had seen before--it was that blonde from outside. But the other...she was something else entirely. A devilish smirk crept it's way onto the veteran's face, as he sauntered over to the cabin.

"Put me down for one baby, Cuba Libre, on the rocks." There, he leaned in the doorway, eyes trained towards the women in particular. But he made sure to tip his hat to them all.

"Theolonius Alain Monke--friends call me Theo. It's a pleasure."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Terry Gillet Character Portrait: Jackson Butler Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne
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Dod smirked to herself as another woman came into the cabin just as the train started to move, That's a shot for me, she thought, turning the page of her book. The woman, from what Dod could tell in the corner of her eye, pulled out her own book and started to read. At first it looked as though Dod was going to have a fairly quiet train ride with just the other woman and both of them reading, but then a man came in, not too loudly thankfully, and he walked up to the two.

"You got enough room in this car for an American?" he asked. Then another man entered before Dod could answer, only to leave after setting all his stuff down. Image

"Well there's plenty of room cowboy, I don't think anyone here is going to stop you," Dod answered, her eyes lifting from her book briefly so she could smile at this man. He was rather young with dark curly hair.

The second man came back in, "I got myself a drink. Does anyone want one? I can go back." He said.

Dod stood up, setting her book neatly on her suitcase, "Might as well go with you, I have need Whiskey Smash," she looked to the woman who had come in before the other, "Do you want me to pick anything up for you doll?" she asked.

Another person came in, Dod looked around thinking she earned herself a drink for everyone who had come in last minute. Even though it was a larger train cabin, Dod was hard pressed to remember if there had ever been so many people sharing a cabin with her.

"I hope you all like music," this new man said.

"Depends," Dod answered, slumping to one hip and looking at him in mock scrutiny, "I prefer jazz to classical myself." She smiled and began to walk to the door heading back to the bar car only to be stopped by a man leaning against the door frame. He tipped his hat at everyone.

"Theolonius Alain Monke--friends call me Theo. It's a pleasure," he said.

"Pleasure is all mine. The name's Dod Freeman," she answered, tipping her own hat to everyone in mock of this man in the doorway, though she sent him a wink before exiting to fill her own order of drinks.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Terry Gillet Character Portrait: Jackson Butler Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne
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#, as written by museman
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Jackson was able to slither through the mass of people in the cabin. He popped out into the corridor and stuck his landing. He brought his hands up to his sweater vest and dusted off his shoulders and upper chest. He held his glass with a somewhat forceful grip so that he wouldn't drop it. He never wasted and drink and never will. Even though his father was a huge alcoholic, Jackson won't turn down a drink for any reason unless it was several in and he could risk being drunk. He fixed himself upright and took a sip of his scotch. The liquid stung his throat, but no matter, Jackson took one more sip before stopping himself. It was still early morning and he didn't want to get too buzzed.

Turning to view the English country side scenery, the bright light from the sun made Jackson's eyelids shut with terror. He moved his hand above his eyes and provided a visor for himself. With all the talking going on Jackson decided to start making his way to the bar. He had no idea if the one woman would accompany him, but no matter. Jackson made his way in and walked up to the bar. He shot a half smile at the bartender who winced back at him. Placing his glass on the counter, the bartender swung his hand around to the container of scotch, but as he poured Jackson stopped him. He placed his hand over his glass and the bartender backed off. Jackson uttered one word. "Water." The bartender rolled his eyes "Alright, Sir." He brought out a wine glass and a pitcher of water. He dumped enough water out to fill the glass to the brim. Jackson nodded in thanks and proceeded to pick the glass up. He heard a voice shout from the corner of the bar "Sissy." Jackson slowly turned to see a big, burly, bald man with a handlebar mustache approach him. Jackson placed the glass down and peered at the big man. "Did I do something wrong?" The man smirked and made a fist with his hand. Jackson quickly grabbed the scotch in one hand and wineglass in the other and sped out of the room. He escaped by a hair of a second as the man swung and hit the counter. Jackson walked back to the cabin "I would be careful going down to the bar. There is some big scoundrel."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Terry Gillet Character Portrait: Jackson Butler Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne
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LOTTIE ANDREW


And there went her peaceful, quiet ride to London. Ah well, at least there aren't any children, Lottie muttered to herself as some sort of consolation. After silently smiling at each of the unfamiliar men who entered the cabin and began conversing with one another, she lifted up her coat and hat and placed them on her lap to open up the seat for the others. The woman who introduced herself as 'Dod' seemed to be handling the conversations well enough so she felt no need to talk to anyone. That was until the same woman asked her a question. Quickly weighing her options, Lottie pushed herself up from the seat and placed her belongings where she sat.

"I think I'll come with you, if you don't mind," the blonde said with a small smile and a soft voice, after she realized that a short trip to the bar at the end of the car would be far less painful than having to stand a conversation with three men.

After carefully stepping out of the cabin, Lottie followed Dod hastily to the bar, ignoring what one of the men had mentioned to her and the group. She was already feeling relieved to be away from the mass of strangers that she'd likely be forced to spend the duration of the trip with. There were too many people in there for her liking. It was unnerving.

At the bar, Lottie stood at the counter with her arms behind her back, but did not order anything. She simply let her eyes wander around the room and out the windows, as she didn't get to see what the inside of her train looked like when she first sat down.

"That cabin is awfully jam-packed, wouldn't you agree?" Lottie said with a smile, her voice quiet and hesitant at her own attempt of friendly conversation. She hoped that the woman she was talking to would be as friendly as she looked.

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Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke
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The blond woman followed her out of the cabin and into the bar car. Dod ordered her Whiskey Smash while the woman she was with looked around the room. Dod followed suite and immediately met eyes with what she could only assume was the 'big scoundrel' that the guy with the drinks had warned them about. Dod rolled her eyes and looked away in time to see Theo walking up.

"That cabin is awfully jam-packed, wouldn't you agree?" the woman asked.

"That it is," Theo said, beating Dod to answering, "Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt. I just extended the invite to your friends back there, but I wanted to let you all know-"

The bartender interrupted with Theo's and Dod's drinks, though he gave more of a show with Theo's.

"-Im staying in the Presidential Cabin, plenty of smoke, drink, music, and space. I'd love to see you two dames there," with that he left.

"Well I may just have to," Dod called after him. She smirked and looked back the woman she was with.

"So what about you doll, what's your name?" Dod asked, taking a sip of her drink. Image

"I think I would like to know that same thing," a gentleman's voice interrupted. Dod looked over to see the 'big scoundrel' from earlier.

"I don't mean to sound rude, but dry up sweetheart," Dod said with a sickly sweet smile.

"Excuse me?"

"Well I just figured a rude entrance deserved a rude response, so why don't you just turn your tail, alright?"

The man stared down Dod, another growing problem with the 'modern woman' is that they were known for having unusually sharp tongues the no fear of speaking up which often aroused aggressive feelings from the people it was directed at.

"Now you listen here doll," he said pointing a giant's finger in her face, "No one, especially not some flapper, talks to me like that." Dod saw some men standing up in the back, though she had a feeling it wasn't to protect her, but back him up. He was about to turn to the woman she was with, possibly to tell her off too, but Dod squeezed between them.

"Sorry, but I have a feeling that our conversation isn't quite done yet," she turned to the woman behind her and whispered, "You might want to scram Jane."

"Oh but I think it is, bearcat" the man said, he raised his hand and back-handed Dod. She didn't lose her balance, but her cheek started to burn. Her mouth tightened a little and her eyes slowly looked over the man again. She suddenly slammed glass, the liquor still mostly inside, to the side of the guy's head. The sound of glass shattering filled the car as well as an explosion of sound; people yelling; the guy growling; the bartender pushing Dod out of the car; other people poking their heads out and whispering to see what was the matter. Dod just glared at the scoundrel man while the bartender did his best to keep everyone from bumping each other off, though once she was fulling out of the car she turned and walked down the corridor. She wasn't really entirely certain she wanted to see people right now, her blood still boiling from being back handed. So she just hung in the corridor, leaning against a window and rubbing her cheek delicately.

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Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke
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LOTTIE ANDREW


Lottie let out a soft chuckle at the invite she had just received from the friendly man named Theo. She had been planning on just keeping the conversation between herself and the woman named Dod, but Theo seemed nice enough. Nicer than most strangers she's met tha day. Nicer than the one that had just forced himself into their conversation ever so rudely. The 'big scoundrel' she figured from his gruff attitude. Lottie had been meaning to respond to Dod's question but the man had interrupted her before she could. If there was one thing that Lottie hated most of all, it was being interrupted. It was just plain rude. The blonde rolled her eyes at the man's crude approach and turned her back to him to lean against the smooth bar-top and ignore his further advances. Although, she did breathe out a silent laugh at Dod's liberated way of speaking. Lottie always admired anyone who was willing to speak their mind without hesitation. Especially if they were a woman.

She glanced over at Dod and her eyes widened when she saw the man back-hand her and she in turn smash her glass against his head. She was definitely not expecting a brawl of anything of the sort to break out during her train ride, but it was much more exciting that her usual trips. In the bustle of people yelling and men pushing themselves around the room, it was easy for mousy little Lottie to slip her way out through the mess. It was also easy for her to take her handkerchief out of her pocket, fill it with ice from the bar, and follow after Dod out of the car.

She quickly found the woman leaning against a window by her lonesome. Lottie, in her usual tip-toed fashion, silently walked up behind Dod.

"Are you alright?" Lottie asked, her voice probably a bit too loud for someone appearing out of nowhere, "Here. It looked like he hit you fairly hard," she added, holding out her bundle of cloth and ice to the woman with the sore cheek.

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Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew
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“I got myself a drink. Does anyone want one? I can go back.”

A gleam of home rayed across Everette’s mind as he instantly recognized the man’s accent; he was American. Probably not surprisingly the first he had seen while on his trip to land of cockney, so it was a pleasant surprise. The offer, however, was not as much. He could tell just from the man’s stance and the way he addressed that he was a man of military, probably army, and the thought of the man drinking so early in the morn was a bit disheartening to say the least.

“Well there's plenty of room cowboy, I don't think anyone here is going to stop you,” said the flapper, obviously very charismatic. A sort of smirk ran across Everette’s face, for the last time he was called cowboy he was only sixteen and had no clothes on. Suddenly, many people were entering the cabin; one asking if was music was okay and apparently getting narrowed down to jazz by some, a man came in with a mentor of an old fellow and he appeared to be important for we was escorted out, and finally many others, including the shy one, left for drink.

Everette pocketed his coin and thought to follow suit, but on the way he got distracted by one thing or another, mostly small things that should not interest him but did. When he finally remembered why he had left the cabin, he walked down the corridor to find the flapper there, Dod if he was not mistaken, and he thought it would be nice to get better acquainted in a purely cordial way. As he walked up, however, he noticed her in pain with red on her face, and from his time in New York, he knew very well what that meant. If Everette was English, maybe, he would have comforted the girl and held her hand, but he was not.

He was American.

With only a nod and smile, and a slight awkward pat on the shoulder, towards Dod he walked straight towards the bar, but he did not walk slow or with an unclenched fist. It did not take him long to find the man who had obviously hit Dod, for he had many cuts and pieces of glass on his face. A little relief went through Everette as he knew the man was showed up by a woman, but ot would not be enough. Without a second thought, Everette walked up to the man and with all of his might sent his right fist into the scoundrel’s bloodied face, sending him staggering back into the group oh his supporters, and the few that came after Everette were placed onto their asses as well. However, one of their punches landed, and Everette fell back and into the bar. One man held him down while another winded back his arm with a bottle in hand. He knew he was about to get hurt really bad, damning his Tennessean blood, but maybe they would at least think twice next time. Everette closed his eyes in anticipation.

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Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Terry Gillet Character Portrait: Jackson Butler Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne
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Everyone in the cabin that Terry decided to sit in decided to keep coming and going. No one seemed willing to keep seated for even a mere moment. This was going to be the cause of a long train ride for Terry. He felt around his pockets for another dart, but could find none. He looked up at the two men in the cabin and was about to ask one of them for a ciggy, but the younger one walked off before he even had a chance ask. He looked out towards where the young lad went and decided that he was going to follow. He'd have better luck finding a cigarette somewhere else.

Terry looked at the only other man in the car now. “I'm off to find some fresh air. If you want to join me, come on along.”

Terry latched onto his knees and pushed himself out of his chair. He followed down the corridors that all the others had gone, figuring that there was a place to bum or buy a cigarette off of someone. The corridors were narrow, but provided a sufficient amount of light from the windows which aided in the appearance of more space. Midway down the hall, the pair of women from his brief encounter in the cabin were standing. The one on pants held her meekly held her cheek while the blonde stood beside her likely for comfort.

In the next hall over, there was the bar. The perfect place to sit down and attempt his search for his next smoke. However, there seemed to be a commotion. The young man who had just left him was getting the beat down. A man held him while another held a bottle.

“Hey!” Terry shouted. The two men looked over as Terry reached into side pocket. A moment of surprise struck over Terry's face as he picked out a cigarette, which he proceeded to light and take a drag from before continuing. “You two wet blankets better beat it before I give what's comin' to you.” Again, he reached into his pocket, this time to pull out a small pocket knife, which he licked open to point at the two goons.

The two men paid little heed to Terry's warnings and continued to shake hold down the young kid. Terry approached the fighting trio slowly, taking another drag from his cigarette. This time he nearly expending the whole thing in one breath. When he got close enough, the men started to talk big. “Stay back.” They said. “This is none of your business.” But Terry ignored their warnings. He could spot an idol threat and there was nothing for the guys to do. Either they focused their attention on Terry and let the kid go or they started beating down the kid and find themselves running with knife wounds so he continued forward. Instead of raising his knife hand, however, he took a final breath room his ciggy and was about to put it into the ashtray near by, but instead, pressed it hard against the one man's arm. He let out a yelp and let go of the kid. The man had no time to turn around to swing a punch at Terry, because before he knew it, there was a knife pressed hard against his back.

“Walk away now while you still can. The both of you.”

The two men didn't say another word, running off before they could find any more trouble.

“You ever live in a big city, kid? Too many of these goons to count. Don't walk around without one of these knives close to my side, but its saved me a couple of times.”

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Everette was surprised when he opened his eyes that he was not a bloody mess, and in fact was saved by the music connoisseur from earlier. Even though Everette should have been thrilled to have his face intact, his heart sunk when he realized the man could not have seen where he put a few on their asses and had to have only seen the part where he was put on his ass. Regardless he was thankful.

“You ever live in a big city, kid? Too many of these goons to count. Don't walk around without one of these knives close to my side, but it’s saved me a couple of times.”

Everette was not surprised the man was French, but slightly relieved since Everette had fought alongside the French and he was of sorts sick of Englishmen at the moment.

“I actually spent time in Indianapolis and Chicago. I took a summer or two in Long Island, but I assure that was hardly a city. I suppose I just never kept the company of their likes,” said Everette conversationally, now holding his cheek from where the man’s punch landed.

Everette thought of at least pointing out the fact that a few were dealt of on his part; mostly to point out that Americans or him personally were not that weak. However, he thought it futile and trivial, so instead he thought he would strike up a friendly conversation with the man.

“Why don’t you walk with me and tell me your origin. I am going to check on the lady, Dod I think, but I would enjoy your company and a man such as yourself could no doubt cheer her up,” inquired Everette as he adjusted his vest. He was dressed relatively nicely, but everything about his outfit was ruffled and crinkled now, loosely fitting in a casual manner, but Everette decided he did not mind it that much.

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Dod took the wrapped ice from the woman and smiled kindly, "Thanks dollface and I'm fine, wouldn't be the first time that I have gotten myself into trouble."

The polite, young American from earlier came up behind Dod and patted her gently on the shoulder before heading to the bar car. Dod stared after him curiously for a bit till he was out of sight. She turned her attention back to the woman, "Well now that there's no one to interrupt us, why don't you tell me you name?" she asked, moving a lock of the woman's hair behind her ear gently.

There was a sudden loud commotion coming from the cart over. Though Dod was curious what was going on now, she stayed where she was, partly because she had had enough of the men in the bar car and partly because it would be rude to leave the woman in the middle of their conversation.Image

Another man from their cabin moved past them and into the bar car. Dod noticed that shortly after he entered the commotion, which was undoubtedly another fight, ended rather quickly. She could also vaguely see the bartender looking a bit miffed at the amount of fights that he had to deal with. Dod smiled a little at the thought of everyone in their cabin being a hood, she was honestly a little proud of that even.

"Now what do you say we head to that Sheik's Presidential cabin for a ciggy and quiet conversation between a small few?" Dod asked and before the blond could answer Dod linked their arms and stared at her expectantly. After the fight she just had and her drink, Dod wanted nothing more than to just sit with a small number of people and have a quiet conversation; no yelling; no fights; no coming in and out of conversations, just one conversation to focus on. That's all she wanted.

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Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew
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LOTTIE ANDREW


"Just because it's not the first time it's happened, doesn't mean it's not wrong of them," Lottie said, her voice confident but her eyes looking off to the corner of the room. The blonde woman as well was far too used to being treated unfairly, for a number of reasons that weren't in her control by a number of people she did not care for one bit, but she always tried her hardest to comfort those who faced the same inequalities that she faced and do it all with a smile. This familiarity opened up a soft spot in Lottie's head and heart for the woman named Dod.

So when the beautiful brunette gingerly swept a lock of Lottie's loose hair behind her ear, the blonde could feel the faintest rush of heat to her cheeks.

"Andrew. Charlotte Andrew. But my friends call me Lottie," she cleared her throat as she raised her hand to her hair and began fingering the same lock behind her ear, "Well, they would if they could talk. Or if they were alive. Or were my friends. Or in any other situation that doesn't involve me embalming them," she rambled with a soft and strained smile as she looked up and met Dod's dark eyes.

Only after she finished talking did she realize how insane she must have sounded to the woman. "Oh, I am so sorry! I must sound like a complete psychopath!" She blurted out perhaps a little too loud, becoming even more flustered as the red on her cheeks was beginning to appear much more visible. "Let me try this again, I'm Lottie. You can call me Lottie," she said, finally, "It is very nice to meet you, Doddy."

Lottie was so distracted in her words that she didn't even realize that Dod had interlocked their arms.

"I... sorry, where are we going?" She asked, dumbfounded.

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Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke
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Dod just smiled and began to walk, her's and Lottie's linked arms helping tow the woman along. "Even if you were a psychopath doll, I have a feeling you wouldn't hurt me and we're going to the Presidential cabin now that we have someone on the inside who seems to be sweet on us. Might be a nice place to have an uninterrupted conversation, don't you think?"

When they walked up there was an attendant outside, Dod gave Lottie a face that seemed to say 'Well, well, well, isn't someone posh?' before facing the attendant.

"We were invited to join Theo, or you might know him as Theolonius Alain Monke," Dod said, she knew it was always good to prove that you knew important people on more familiar terms, it showed you were of 'higher ranking' than what you might actually be. "Our names are Dod Freeman and Charlotte Andrew."

The kid walked inside, closing the door behind him.Image

"I'm thinking when the fish gets back, we should beat his gums and see if we can give him the heebie-jeebies," Dod said, biting her lip staring at the door. Her left hand was getting colder the longer she held the wrapped ice and her cheek was still numb from the cold and still bright as a cherry.

The boy came back out of the cabin, "Ladies," he said stepping to the side. Dod let go of Lottie's arm and let the woman go in first while she stayed out. She walked slowly till she was standing next to the poor kid.

"So talk, any news of a bump off in London?" Dod asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Come on you seem like a well-informed fish, what's the news, any zozzled fights?"

"Well I think there was one that just happened in the bar car," he answered politely.

Dod frowned.

"Do you want some ice for you cheek? It's looking a bit sore Miss."

Dod gave an exasperated sigh and shook her head entering the car. "My evil plan didn't work," she whispered to Lottie, then turning to Theo who was lounging, "Nice place you have here Sheik. Love the music, Furry Lewis right?" Dod conversed as she sat down in a rather lounging manner herself.

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Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Delilah Blanc Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke
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DELILAH BLANC |LOTTIE ANDREW


Lottie couldn't help but nod and smile as Dod dragged her off to this Presidential cabin. She hadn't been planning on accepting the invite when Theo had first invited her, but something in her made Lottie not want to refuse Dod. So she went along with it, hesitantly but willingly.

Once inside, Lottie was beginning to feel the nervousness and regret creep in. There were awful lot of people she didn't recognize, the music was loud, and she didn't have any of her books to keep her company. So she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and calmly thought, It's okay. This is for Dod. When she opened her eyes, she immediately set to work finding an open seat, which she was struggling with.



When Delilah had first boarded her train to London, she never would have thought that she'd run into so many of her old friends.

The first of these friends being Theo Monke, a fellow musician she had met the year prior. The two performers had bumped into each other in the hallway and now Delilah has found herself in a presidential cabin with good music, drinks, new friends, and all the ciggies she could ever want. It was a few minutes in when she met old friend number two.

When two new women had entered the cabin, Delilah barely spared the pair a passing glance before she returned to the conversation she was having with one of the other gentlemen in the room. Only when she heard a certain name did the new arrivals catch her attention. She quickly excused herself from the conversation, stood from her seat, and walked towards Theo and the others.

"It's Lottie, actually. Just Lottie," the blonde one had said to Theo and Huey, but Delilah wasn't paying her much mind. It was the brunette that she was focused on.

"So sorry to interrupt, gents, ladies," Delilah said with a slight playful tone, resting a thin hand gently on Theo's shoulder as she approached the group, "I must have misheard, Dod Freeman you said? There wouldn't happen to be a Dorothy before it, would it?" She asked in her soft, lilting voice, and a cheerful smile on her face. She held out her other hand to the brunette as she introduced herself, "Delilah Blanc. You may have heard of me?"

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Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Delilah Blanc Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke
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"Fine names if I ever heard one," the man named Huey said, "Well, what brings you two ladies to this knucklehead's cabin? Hell, what's takin' ya to London? I guess what i'm sayin' is...tell an old man about yourselves--it's a long train ride, and I'm tired of talkin' to him."

"Well I'm actually originally from London, just popped to Nottingham for a small visit," Dod answered. To her she was certain that wasn't the kind of exciting story Huey was looking for, but because she was English there wouldn't be amazing reasons to visiting London which was about four hours train ride from the Northern part of England.

Before Lottie could answer however another young lady popped up behind Theo, "So sorry to interrupt, gents, ladies. I must have misheard, Dod Freeman you said? There wouldn't happen to be a Dorothy before it, would it? Delilah Blanc. You may have heard of me?"Image

"Delilah Blanc?" Dod looked at the woman, her mouth hanging slightly open and eyes wide as if she had seen a vision from the past. She took Delilah's hand and stood up, "Mon amie, tu grandis depuis je te vois," Dod said, kissing the young ladies cheeks, "Comment t-allez vous?" she added, asking how she was.

"Don't mind us gentlemen, and Lottie, just old friends catching up," Dod said to the others. She pulled Delilah to sit next to her. It had been during the early times of the world that the two women had met and back then Delilah was more of a young girl than a woman. Dod had just moved to Paris and their encounter was brief then, but they still became the best of friends. Dod had given the little girl her address and for a while they had sent regular letter back and forth when Delilah moved to England. Though when the war reached Paris Dod had to stop sending those letters and the communication between the two stopped completely, until this very moment.

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Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Delilah Blanc Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke
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DELILAH BLANC |LOTTIE ANDREW


"Je suis bien, mon ami. C'est bon de te voir!" Delilah exclaimed cheerfully, returning Dod's kisses with enthusiasm. She walked with Dod and the two sat together.

When Delilah was still a child, she lived with her family in her home city of Paris, France. She had spent most of her life at the club where her parents worked, so she had little to no friends and barely saw anyone that wasn't her siblings or her parents. However, on one day, when the lonely nine-year old was going about her life, she met an unusual but fascinating older girl. The two had lept at the friendship and were inseparable from that point on. When the two had stopped writing the other, it was a regretful decision that she still holds close to her heart to this day.

"Vous ne serez pas le croire, mais je suis un artiste professionnel," Delilah said proudly, a confident grin on her face.

Lottie followed after Dod slowly, sitting down next to the woman. She stared plainly at the stranger named Delilah, then back at Dod. This whole scene made her feel uncomfortable. She didn't like feeling so lonely or left out. She felt so awkward just for being here in this room. She quickly cleared her head and focused on one thing; she needed to try to interact with these strangers.

"I was not aware that you knew French," she blurted out, her attempt at being included into Dod and Delilah's conversation. Despite her awkwardness, she was genuinely impressed at Dod's skill. Lottie never really ever considered learning another language. She never needed to know a language other than english in her line of work.

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Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Delilah Blanc Character Portrait: Terry Gillet Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne
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"I lived in France during the war," Dod explained to Lottie, "In the end it was about as good a place to hide as England, but I would never trade my time in France for anything."

"Pick your poison ladies. The drinks come with the cabin, so let's make sure to use 'em," Theo announced. When Dod looked to him and noticed for the first time that he had changed clothes.

"Might as well take a Whiskey Smash as my last one ended up getting smashed," Dod said wit a quirk in her lips. She stood up and went over to make her own drink.

"Alright everyone," Theo said lifting his own glass, "To new friends, old friends, and this side of the world treating me way better than the states ever did!"

"Santé!" Dod said taking a sip of her drink, "Now if you'll excuse me I should probably get my stuff if we are to stay here for the journey. I'll grab your stuff as well Lottie." With that Dod momentarily left the Presidential cabin and made her way back to the one she had originally found. Just outside the door were two of them men from earlier, the polite, young boy who rekindled the fight and the man with the love for music.

"Are you alright?" she asked the younger man, briefly leaning against the wall. Though completely unneeded, Dod did find it rather noble of him, especially considering they were complete strangers. There was some thudding going down the corridor, going away from where they stood, but Dod could still see what was happening. It was the great bimbo of a man trying to be helped by a small woman, but he kept shoving her away.

"Poor dame," Dod whispered, tilting her head to rest on the wall, "Though nothing can be done," with that she walked into the cabin and slowly gathered her things, as well as the items that she saw Lottie handle earlier, her arms getting quite full.

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Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Terry Gillet Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne
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Not long after waiting the man’s response, the woman who he had defended earlier had appeared before him again, and not only with a gleaming smile that would make you believe that she had never had a care in her life, especially not had been wailed on not but ten minutes prior, but also with fresh whiskey. This woman does not miss a beat, thought Everette, commenting on her not taking any time to refill her cup and let nothing affect her. But then his worn eyes, the eyes of a man that had seen too much, met her lively eyes and he saw the thought she had.

Poor bloke, he wasted his fists. I obviously had it.

Again, he damned his Tennessee blood and his American soul; it was a characteristic for America to be the first to help and the first to be criticized for it, whether they deserved it or not. Criticism or help. He wished he thought of where he was, the European way of letting it be and the won battle is a win, but where he grew up he knew of the Hatfield and McCoys. Helping was right and there was no victory until the war was one, no celebration and no rest for a mere won battle, and as well as the mentality of finishing the fight. But, beyond his spirit, he had other reasons he was compelled to help the dark haired Dod.

It was because she reminded him of someone; reminded him of her. A touchy subject that attached him to the stranger since she was completely a spitting image, but also compelled him to be bitter to her, never trusting her in fear she will turn out like the last. In truth, he would stay distant, or try his best, and see where that led him. Besides, even from a mile away he could sense that the shy one from earlier, the blonde, was highly taken by her, smitten even. She began to speak.

“Are you alright?”

She seemed only half concerned, as if he had done it himself and he was silly for it, and in her defense it was completely true.

“Lucky bastard- er, please pardon my language,” he said rather awkwardly, flooding memories he had tried to forget pouring in, he had forgotten he was not familiar with this woman as he was the last.

“One of them got off a lucky shot, and I would be done in if not for this here camarade,” he said this in almost fluent French he had learned fighting alongside them in war, “mais un counteau emporte poings,” Everette added, this time in less impressive French but still a noble attempt.

She remarked upon a woman in the corridor, but he paid little heed. He was fixated on the moving and breathing mirror image of his past, and somehow his thoughts turned back to his coin. He reached for it, but only found an empty pocket.

You’re on your own now, Everette old boy, he thought to himself. He felt that this trip was about to get interesting, but he did not know of that was a good thing...