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Jackson Butler

You can trust me... Sort of

0 · 297 views · located in England

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

Description

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Age: 27
Occupation: Lawyer
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Nationality: American
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Appearance: Jackson stands at exactly 72 inches (6 feet) tall. He does not slouch, but when he is frustrated he tends to slouch a bit. He has hazel eyes and dark brown hair. He slicks it up to make himself look presentable. Besides his hair, he always wears a sweater vest or either a nice suit. With that he wears matching shoes. When he is working he always wears a suit. He has long legs so his torso his somewhat short. Underneath the clothing he is working on a six pack. He hits the weights several times a week to stay in shape.

When in public, Jackson tries to keep cool by having a relaxed posture when standing and walking. He does not tense up, but he doesn't slouch. He tries to be presentable since he is a lawyer, but he doesn't want to seem up tight like his dad was.
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Personality: Jackson has never been one to except failure. In his life he has pulled out all the stops in law school and even though the odds were against him, he passed and became a lawyer. This just goes to show that Jackson does not play around. Well in a professional playground he doesn't play around, but when it comes to women though... he has quite a time. Jackson is a big fan of the women and he also enjoys sex, but he keeps it classy and tries not to bang every woman in sight like a scoundrel.

Jackson is one for a good game of poker. He usually always wins, but there is always the risk of getting caught when he cheats almost every time he plays. This makes him an excellent lawyer. After a long day of cheating the system, Jackson likes to have a drink. He is an occasional drinker. But most of the time he spends drinking is at the speakeasies since he can't get liquor into his home because his neighbor is a police officer. That doesn't stop him from going out and drinking though. But when he needs to get away from it all, Jackson goes to a little jazz club and listens to the artists on stage. He considers himself a big fan of jazz.

He has tried to settle down once in his life, but that turned out to be a disaster and led to him being lonely. Now Jackson just sticks to loose women and tries to just have a few dates and end it. He doesn't feel good about it, but it means he can explore more women than any married man. He plans to have more adventures on the train if you know what he means.

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History: Jackson was born on a cold January night in up state New York. He was born to two loving parents and an older brother. Jackson's childhood was normal to say the least, if you count his father being a drunk cheater a part of a normal life. It was true. His father would drink constantly when he came home from work. Sometimes he didn't come straight home. Sometimes he would come home from another woman's home. Jackson's mother was not happy to learn the news the hard way when she walked in on her husband and a hooker in her own bedroom. After that incident she tried to divorce her husband, but this lead to abuse. Jackson witnessed this abuse almost every night. When he father finally put down his last drink he would proceed to find his wife and try to beat her senseless. After a while, she got sick of the constant physical and verbal abuse. She contacted a hit man to murder her husband and make it seem like an accident. Jackson overheard a conversation about that, but he kept his mouth shut. After his father's death, Jackson tried to just ignore the situation as a whole. He lived as if he never met his father.

Several years later Jackson's brother was enlisted in the U.S. Army during World War One. Jackson grew up with his brother protecting him and to see his brother go was a travesty. He knew he would come back, but it would be a few years. Sadly, that day of return never came for his brother. Jackson had to live with yet another death in the family. This happened while he was attending law school. This caused Jackson's grades to plummet and he almost flunked out, but he didn't want that to happen. He didn't want to end up like a drunkard like his father. He kept studying and brought his grades up and came out on top. He joined a law firm, and before he knew it, Jackson was one of the top lawyers in New York. This is what led him to the train. Jackson received a message from overseas about a very serious murder trial. Jackson decided to take the opportunity. He took a boat all the way over the United Kingdom. He stopped off in Nottingham because he found out some relatives lived there. After a few day visit with his lovely relatives, Jackson decided to board a train going into London. This is where Jackson's real journey begins.

So begins...

Jackson Butler's Story

Setting

Characters Present

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

Setting

Characters Present

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

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jackson Butler Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne Character Portrait: Terry Gillet
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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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Character Portrait: Jackson Butler
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#, as written by museman
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Jackson ignored everyone that made their way in and out of the cabin. He just stayed in his seat and let his head fall back. He didn't want to close his eyes because when he did he started to see flashbacks. Flashbacks of his father abusing his mother. Jackson remembered that every time his father came home from work he would retreat to his room. His mother would just keep in the kitchen. He could remember every dinner. They were all awkward. Just complete silence and maybe a few words about how one's day was. But there was no full conversation on the well being of one another. He could see his father fall back in his leather chair and drink his worries away with a bottle of whiskey. Every night that happened. Every night until his father was killed. After that, Jackson remembers freedom. Freedom from a dictator. But at the same time he felt sad. He knew his mother was tired of being beaten, but she still mourned her husband's death even though she arranged for it. Jackson shook the memories out of his head.

He removed himself from the chair and stretched. After getting all loose he reached into his briefcase and pulled out a cigar. He enjoyed a good cigar every once in a while. Right now he felt as if he needed to get away and cool down with one. He looked around for matches in his bag, but couldn't find any. He shrugged his shoulders and made his way out of the cabin and past everyone in the corridor to the bar. As he walked into bar he just kept his focus on getting a light. He didn't care about his surroundings. He just needed to get away from the world. He took a seat at the bar and held out his cigar. He spoke softly to the bartender "Do you have a light?" The bartender nodded and lit a match. He held it out and Jackson lit his cigar. He put it in his mouth for a few seconds and got a good puff going.

He had awful memories in the cabin, but he felt as if the room changed his memories. Now Jackson started to think about his old love. A flapper he met at a speakeasy back in the city once. She was wild, but she was a good woman. He almost got married to her, but some unfortunate events happened that stopped any of that from happening. Jackson never brought that up with anyone. He barely brought up anything about his past up in any conversation. The only thing he would bring up was law school and being a somewhat successful lawyer. He kept smoking his fine cigar and ordered a bourbon. Even though the effects of drinking had a huge impact on his life as a child at home, he would never stop himself from drinking. Especially with the prohibition back at home. Being in a foreign country was great for drinking because there were no consequences with the law. Nothing between himself and a good bourbon.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Jackson Butler Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne Character Portrait: Terry Gillet
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Everette listened to the man’s story with great attentive attitude, and he did so as he held his cheek in the slightest manner, making it seem as casual as possible. The French man, Terry Gillet, was an aspiring man in the musical arts, something Everette could relate to, and he apparently had been somewhat if not successful enough, something Everette could not relate to. Sadly, unlike Terry, Everette had not had any luck, or rather any talent, in the music industry as a writer or composer of music, but it heartened him to hear of the aspiring man that could have been Everette in another life, even though he had the lungs of a cricket and the vocal capabilities of a walrus. Listening to the man, Everette recognized some of the names that Terry bounced off from his exciting career, and a sudden flare of connection sprang from one of the names that he had too met.

“I met ole Charlie a couple years back as well, well only a few, and I wrote music for him. Well, pitched music to him for maybe the chance to write,” chirped Everette, excited that he had such a grand story as the obviously prestigious man, but he left the story at that, not including the rejection part to his tale.

“Must of missed you in New York. However, I think your name might of chimed its way passed my ears before. I met a flapper in Tennessee once, quite a spirit for my rural days, and she and I were smitten from the start. I think she was the one to said it, maybe, or was it in Chicago that I heard it? She and I went steady for a while, but when I got back from the war I found her…” Everette trailed off, obviously getting into deep thought, and when he noticed he fell into those depths he automatically corrected his posture, especially not wanting to bring that to light.

“I digress, and I am terribly sorry for that. Name’s Everette D. Osborne. Well, Dr.Osborne technically, not the medical kind though. I joined the war as soon as it started, and they told me I did well, even though never felt like it. What good came of it was that my metals help me get my honorary doctorate in Chemistry, but my true passion is writing music. Was. Anyway, I was a chemist after the war and floated around the East Coast for a while, but war got me down so I came here,” said Everette.

He looked around, totally forgetting about the woman he came looking for, and the pain from the punch was nearly gone. He looked around for something to do.

“Whaddya say we go catch a drink at the bar, on me. A thank you for saving my ass back there. I also thought I saw the fellow American walk that way. Shall we?”

Setting

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Character Portrait: Jackson Butler
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#, as written by museman
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Smoke filled the air as Jackson took one last puff of his cigar before dropping it in a glass of water that someone left behind. With the train still moving Jackson slowly got up from the stool and balanced himself. He was not a fan of trains or even automobiles for that matter. He always got around town by just walking. His feet were his vehicle in that case. Jackson leaned over and grabbed his bourbon. He straightened his posture and made his way out of the bar. He could see the other people from his cabin wandering around and some going into another man's private cabin. Jackson thought the man with his own car must think he's the bee's knees. Without anymore thought, Jackson stepped inside of the cabin he started out in. It was nearly empty. His eyes shot around the room until he found his briefcase. He was overjoyed that no one had taken it. All the materials held within were his checks to the bank. Figurative checks. It was all a bunch of evidence for the trial that was sent over to Jackson's home back in the states. The case would be tough to crack, but Jackson had confidence in himself that he cracked the case. He was going to win it for the victim and get some good cash to go along with the win. He closed his eyes, but in return he picked up a scent. It was his own. His clothes smelled like ash. Jackson wanted to be presentable by the time he got into London. He reached under the seat where he placed his duffle bag with clothes inside. He checked his surrounding and did not see a single soul. He grabbed out another collared shirt, slacks, briefs, and a sweater vest. He would just keep his socks on since they would always smell like feet no matter what pair he wore.

Stepping out of the cabin, Jackson went into the bathroom one door down the hall, next to the cabin. He stepped inside and just shut the door enough to not be seen. He didn't lock it, but his reason was simple. Last time he was on such a train, the bathroom door wouldn't open after he locked it. He was stuck inside until the bartender noticed the door was locked, but everyone had departed the train. He shook the bad thought and started to undress. He dropped his trousers, followed by his shirt, and finally his briefs. As he was going to reach for his clothes he looked in the mirror. He couldn't help but realize what he saw. It wasn't himself, but his father. His mother even said that to him once, but Jackson flicked the comment off of his shoulder just like a pesky bug.