Devil's Tower

Who: Cherry and Mustang
Where: Trading post
When: Friday afternoon
What: She can't be nice all the time.

Too restless and jittery to face going back to her room at the Palace Cherry felt her only option was to stay in the Trading area.  At least here she could people watch, silently mock and maybe even pick up some clientele - the world was her oyster.  Her partial good mood may or may not have had something to do with the giant blacksmith she'd spent the previous two hours charming.  He was intriguing - clumsy and cute.  His towering frame and bulky muscles were mouth watering and his meek attitude hadn't bothered her, which was a miracle in itself.  She hoped to see him again, if only to show him the wonders of a woman he'd been missing up in that commune of his.

Shedding her jacket she laid it on the ground before sitting on top of it and stretching her long tanned legs before her.  Leaning backagainst the tree Cherry gave evil eyes to all the females who stared at her and sly smiles to all the males whose gazes lingered on her body.  They were soo easy.  She felt a pout almost force its way onto her face.  Smith had stayed rooted when she'd tried all her usual tricks and it had been fun.  God don't tell her she was becoming bored.  Bad things happened when she was bored.

Digging around in her pocket Cherry withdrew the ring he'd given her and she slipped it effortlessly onto her left index finger.  It glinted in the partial sunlight and she smiled.  It really was the prettiest thing she'd seen all week.

Week Twenty-One -- Monday
who. Windchaser and Open
what. Open House
when. Noon
where. Trading Post
rating. TBD
status. Incomplete//OPEN

Windchaser had been almost lulled by the quiet of Sundance post war, but had still kept working. She'd created what she could, out of now now useless Drifter logic. A habit she knew she had to break of making remedies out of what she found straight away. As a Drifter she never stayed where her crop was for long, so she used up what she discovered. Now, a Wolf rather than a Drifter, she had to control that urge so she wouldn't run dry on ingredients and as now, be completely overstocked.

So, here Windchaser was out on the Trading Post trading remedies, hang over cures, advice and general chit chat to any one who wanted it. Cabello was tied to a tree not far off the Trading Post, contentedly cropping grass and watching his owner work

who. Josey.
what. Josey is bored and a little concerned about Mac. She needs a distraction.
when. Afternoon.
where. Jackal Lodge.
rating. PG.
status. Incomplete//OPEN.

( If you need me, call me. )

WHO: Lucy
WHAT: Opening up shop!
WHEN: Thursday, approximately 11:00 a.m.
WHERE: The Trading Post
RATING: PG-ish? Language and Weed and Booze, of course.
STATUS: INCOMPLETE//OPEN

Lucy had been up most of the night cleaning and then working the distillery to it's maximum output. There had been a few bottle aging under the kitchen cabinets that she could sell but she would need to be running that thing twenty-four/seven if she wanted to make some good business. Now, she had her big yellow crate hiding beneath the table she'd claimed at the Trading Post this morning and was laying out some of her wares on her tye-dyed table cloth.

She figured she wouldn't need much advertisement once people knew what she was selling, so she could just sit back and yell out every once in a while as she watch the sexy girls walk past in their summer-wear. Lucy, herself, had dressed up for this brand new start. She'd shimmied into a pretty pink dress and her shiniest combat boots, which were now crossed up on the table. Smiling and exhaling rings of smoke into the clean, clear sky, Lucy leaned back, drew in a big breath, and shouted across the crowd of shoppers.

"MOONSHINE AND MARY JANE, PEOPLE! That's right! Get you LIQUOR and MARIJUANA here!"

Week 21 -- Thursday
WHO: Mustang and open
WHAT: A little sunbathing
WHERE: Outside the Lodge
WHEN: Afternoon
RATING: TBD
STATUS: Incomplete // Open

Mustang had settled outside the Lodge soaking up a little of the weather. She thanked whatever god she believed in today for the little bit of seamstress in her for the ability to turn the boring pre virus clothing she'd found into things that fitted her perfectly, that carefully skimmed and displayed every curve, while leaving enough to the imagination to make people who looked at her want to take it off. She was sure that was how she'd stayed clean and sane throughout all of this.

The fact of the matter was that every tear and frayed seam was deliberately placed to show a smooth curve or the suggestion of a shadow. She loved looking like this, feeling the absolute confidence of it. She was utterly in control of herself and that was the way she liked it. She tilted her head back into the sun, using herself like a billboard for the Palace. She hadn't had any trade in a while and she was beginning to get bored

Who: Rumor, Reina, Poe, Cherry & Mustang
What: Revenge
Where: Basement of the Palace
When: Midday Sunday
Rating: R for Violence & Swearing

( Even your death won't come close to making up for hers, but it will as sure as hell make me feel better. At least for a moment. )

Who: Mustang and open
When: Night Monday week 16
Where: In the Palace
What: Making her fine ass known
Rating: TBD

Mustang stalked around the palace, her heels clacking on the floor as she moved. She eyed the place with barely concealed contempt. She'd known that they'd left Haven, because it was best for the Tribe, but she was considering the wisdom of even sticking with the Jackals. Jax was a good leader and not to bad of a ride, but he wasn't proving easy to to twist, and with so many other Tribal leaders in this new area, there might be better pastures to play on, as long as she could get herself there without getting killed.

But there was always the chance she could screw Jax or someone who had his ear and get herself further up the chain than dancing or tomming her way through her life here. She had no huge problem with the work, but it was still work and she preferred to just not do that.