The Blazing Gun Saloon

[Dr.IllBane]

"Drink is the curse of the working class"- Karl Marx

"Work is the curse of the drinking class"- Groucho Marx

I tend to agree with Mr. Marx, good sir.  Which ever one you choose to think I agree with is up to you.

[Phaolan]

::The saloon doors open slowly as a tall dust-covered man limps to the bar::
"Barkeep, a shot of whiskey, off the top shelf! And leave the bottle."

::He turns and survey's the occupants of the saloon, the gears in his brass-covered left hand whirred softly as he rested it lightly on his gun belt near the ebony-handled grip of the Mare's Leg holstered at his side::

"Name's McWhirter, Phaolan McWhirter"  I'm a  bounty hunter and a private detective. Used to be a Marshall up in the Oregon Territory. Made me turn in my badge when I got wounded in a jailbreak. Never been right since they shot my paw, but I'm gettin' by!

[The Abiliegh]

There are no cowboys on this forum.

As a woman living in texas, who can ride horses rather adeptly, and owns more than one cowboy hat, I sort of resent that comment

I'm even told i'm a fair shot, thoguh I don't yet own a firearm....

[Sgt.Major Thistlewaite]

I'm even told i'm a fair shot, thoguh I don't yet own a firearm....

If ya ever make it up here ta Virginney, luv, I can remedy that.

Sarge

[The Abiliegh]

I'm even told i'm a fair shot, thoguh I don't yet own a firearm....

If ya ever make it up here ta Virginney, luv, I can remedy that.

Sarge

Getting out your way is looking good, actually. I've nearly decided to purchase a vehicle instead of purchasing a hundred plane tickets, which means I'll have more mobility when I'm on that side of the country.

I do hope you could stand a car full steampunks showing up on your doorstep! Cowboy, civl war & renn reinacting, piratical, whiskey drinking steampunks...

[Sgt.Major Thistlewaite]

Oh, hell yeah!!!

[The Abiliegh]

Oh, hell yeah!!!

Then I shall make it so

[MWBailey]

When do we leave, and can I bring my folks too? they can ride in the trunk...

[Sgt.Major Thistlewaite]

The more the merrier, MW...we can compare banjo styles!

[The Abiliegh]

I told the boys we were going to storm your home, and they seem all for it, by the way.

And MW, I'm always down for a vehicle caravan

[Sgt.Major Thistlewaite]

Be sure to fly the Texas flag as you come in, so I'll know to deactivate the mines, lock up the rabid wolverines, and put the robot gunners on stand-by.

[The Abiliegh]

Be sure to fly the Texas flag as you come in, so I'll know to deactivate the mines, lock up the rabid wolverines, and put the robot gunners on stand-by.

FINE, take away all the fun

[Maj. Clive Hathaway]

I do hope you could stand a car full steampunks showing up on your doorstep! Cowboy, civl war & renn reinacting, piratical, whiskey drinking steampunks...

Let me know when this rendezvous takes place... sounds like a smashing good time and i'm in Leesburg, Va....
*says Clive as he stumbles in from where he's been watching at the window*

Barkeep..... have you got anything peat-y under that mahogany altar of yours?

[Rockula]

Yup. Reckon so.

[Rev.Hammer]

Galumphing through the swinging doors, smoke tendrils following, comes a burnt and besmutted figure. His eyes glass with fury as he stands to the bar.
He says nothing at first and simply stares ahead. He smells like a volcano and looks as though he was shot from a cannon . Slowly, he raises his hand, it is missing a finger the barkeep comes down.
"Coffee, please"

[Cubinoid]

Galumphing through the swinging doors, smoke tendrils following, comes a burnt and besmutted figure. His eyes glass with fury as he stands to the bar.
He says nothing at first and simply stares ahead. He smells like a volcano and looks as though he was shot from a cannon . Slowly, he raises his hand, it is missing a finger the barkeep comes down.
"Coffee, please"

"Milky, three sugars."

[Rev.Hammer]

The smoldering man sips his coffee as bits of burnt sift from him...paying no heed to the gimlet stares and wrinkled noses.

[Sgt.Major Thistlewaite]

Sarge thinks to hisself, "Must be one o' them thar Wise Men....looks as iffn he's just come from a far."

(snicker snort  )

[Rev.Hammer]

He doesn't change expression or even move his head.
"All chuckling  aside, Major, your 'express rail' either needs a straighter track or a few less rockets"

[Miles (a sailor)Martin]

 Miles (a sailor)Martin limps in the door ,pauses for amoment to lift his goggles then limps to the bar and asks fo a large Long Island Iced Tea and a buffalo steak medum-well done, then turns and asks if any one knows of a good sorce for three hundred peices of spruce one inch square and twelve feet long . " I seem to have run into some Cumulo-granite clouds and am going to require repairs before moving on up to Seattle to pick up the Lemon Juice that i was contracted for".he then turns back to the pitcher of "T" and pours a glass.
                                                                  Miles (a sailor)Martin

ps Lemon juice is a weird drug from a novel by Boneshaker by Cherie Priest
very steampunk and lots of fun

[CorneliaCarton]

-Cornelia enters the Saloon, her boots clacking on the floor as she walks towards the bar-
Hello, ladies and gentlemen. Bartender, can I get some moonshine on the rocks, if that's not too much bother?

[Rockula]

Yup. Reckon so.

[Miles (a sailor)Martin]

"good day to you all" ,as he takes another drink finishing off the pitcher of "t", then pays tab and goes out  to find the general store to get parts to fix his dirigible.

[MWBailey]

The roar of a middling-large airship fills the street outside, and in strides a Tall fellow in a blue Republic of Texas Air Fleet flag officer's uniform, the Delft-blue trenchcoat barely showing any rank at all (it appears he's a commodore, but the Texians' sparing use of braid or insignia makes it hard to tell), and the naval-type saber at his hip, worn under the coat, sticking out the back and the open front at once,  exposes the cross-draw-mounted Paterson Colt on the front of the left hip, buckled on over trousers of the same color as the coat, tucked into black cavalry boots, which sport a pocket colt revolver and a dirk for a boot knife, one stuck into either boot, their pommels protriding slightly.

"Barkeep? a shotglass and a bottle each of your best whiskey, and whatever brandy you've got under or behind the bar, if'n you don't mind," he says in a thick Texian Drawl, "and I'll pay the deposit to take th' bottle with me. Durned ship's chandler forgot the grog ration!"

[Miles (a sailor)Martin]

Miles (a sailor)Martin opens the door and comes in glances aroundto see who has come in or left, noticing the Texican gent he wanders over that direction and offers to buy him a drink. " Captain , might I buy you a drink ?" .               miles is wearing a deep blue colored bell bottom trousers, white shirt,waist coat with a sholder holster with the butt of a m1911 protruding and a saber hilt over the other sholder, seems to any onlookers that he would use the gun in the right the sword in the left. The shirt has patches onboth sleeves, the right sleeve shows a Thunderbird and on the left a NM flag with crossed black cannons over a red 45 superimposed on it , on the front of the left chest is a set of Dolphins pinned upside down over a submarine pin with a V-1 on deck, on the ribbon below are two stars, one gold and one silver.  below that is a blue enameled plate that has a rife-musket and a wreath, the right breast pocket has a set of three colored cloth strips pinned on it, as he turns toward you , you notice that he is limping a bit 

rest of thumb nail desciption: 50 yr old red-blond male with 2" long mostly white beard, 217lbs, grease under nails and large bandage wrapping crown of head under  J.B.Stetson straw hat,
                                                                                                        Miles (a sailor)Martin