Post by Kale on Dec 3, 2005 20:04:31 GMT -5
The bright desert sun shone down upon the streets, like it would on any normal day. The hustle and bustle of Tombstone hung on a normal note as well. The casino's and brothel's were filled to a comfortable degree with the normal customers, looking to gamble away what little they had or just searching for a good ride. Business was usual for the soiled dove's of The Worn Blessing Whorehouse and Casino, going about in their puffy dresses, faces splashed with thick makeup to make them look pretty and appealing to the men whom they wished to gain some quick cash from. Something they all needed, and were willing to sell their virgin souls for the cost. The normal amount of gossip flowed thru the air, smoke from rich men's cigar's and the almost sickening smell of mingled alcoholic drinks choking out any clean air that fluttered in thru the classical western swinging doors.
Yes, everything was as usual, nothing out of the ordinary. Not even the sudden angered screeching coming from the backroom of the Brothel. A door behind the bar counter flung open suddenly, a very angered looking woman standing there. Her dress was of the normal kind associated with the whore's in Texas, and anywhere else for that matter. But unlike some of the other whores, she was not on the chubby side, or far too young looking. Her figure, even under the gross garments she wore, was near perfect. An average slimness, not achieved by starvation, with an ample bosom that was not grossly large. And if one had not seen them head on, they would have near known that Evelyn O'Nega had given birth to two children. The stretch marks and scars seemed to have vanished all on there own, though knowing Evelyn, or Madame Roseate as the men whom were unfamiliar customer's knew her by, she had some kind of odd cream to hide them. Hair of a dirty blond coloration fell to her chin, with a slightly crimped look to it.
Her face red with either rage or annoyance, she stamped across the old wooden floor, her high heeled boots tapping delicately even though her footsteps were hard enough to leave gouges in the floor. Which, seeing as she had done the exact same thing as she was doing now at least five times a day for the past year or so, there actually were gouges in the thick, grey wood floor.
One of the older whore's chuckled slight as Evelyn approached her. Obviously trying to swallow down her rage, Evelyn gritted her teeth as the words she had spoken so many times before slid thru clenched teeth. "Where is he?"
The other woman chuckled again, before a sigh escaped her lips. With a large, fairly chubby hand she reached behind her, grabbing a glass cup off the table behind her. Casually, she pulled a grayed rag from the belt around her waist, beginning to wipe out the glass. At first, she made no attempt to answer the frustrated mother's question, then finally shrugged her shoulders. "Probably outside somewhere. He ran off a while ago."
Evelyn gave a low snarl of frustration as she thanked the older woman. She couldn't go off with a couple customer's for a little while without him running off. Her son was more of an annoyance then a gift from god, as some mother's might put it. A year ago it hadn't been much of a problem for him to run off every time she paid him no attention, there was nothing he could do in the Brothel but cause trouble anyways. But ever since his sister was born, Evelyn needed Dahl's help. Even if he was only two years old, he would be able to give his sister attention whenever she began crying. Something Evelyn couldn't always do, and knew the other whore's wouldn't do. Maybe the younger ones, but they were always snatched away by the greedy rich men that were constant customers first, and the older one's saw no reason as to why they should care for a child that was not their own.
Storming out of the whorehouse, Madame Roseate squinted against the bright Texas sun that threatened to blind her completely. It was much more drab in the whorehouse, the only real light from a few ratty chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. Fresh air flooded into her lungs, and it was a wonderful sensation, to breathe clean air. Clean, dusty air. But it was better than air saturated with sweat, smoke, alcohol, and worst of all; the smell of sex. One could not go ANYWHERE in a brothel without encountering the smell. But those who were constant customer's were used to it by now, the smell no longer effecting them in anyway at all.
With the smell of fresh air cascading into her lungs, sending an almost euphoric sensation thru her body, Evelyn wished to dwell in that one spot that the sunlight filtered down just the right amount and the air was fresh and clean. But, though unfortunate it was, she had to leave. Had to find her bastard son and again shout at him. 'My god' she thought, the voice in her mind tinged with bitterness. 'If I have to keep screaming at him, soon I'll have no voice left to speak with. Or moan with...' And, what good was a whore if they could not moan and make all means of pleasured sounds. Somehow, it brought satisfaction to the customers. The more satisfaction a whore brought to a customer, the more money. Stepping further into the streets of Tombstone, Evelyn strode along expertly ignoring the glances that were sent her way. She had grown used to them long ago. As any soiled dove would, else wise they would never succeed in their career. Something she intended to teach her young daughter early on.
Evelyn sighed, anger slowly slipping away from her as her contorted expression of anger faded away into a frown. That was why she had to yell at her son. He did not seem to realize what an importance his little sister would be to the family. With the absence of the man who had, somehow, impregnated Evelyn twice to bring her these little 'gifts from god', she had to work extra hard to keep them going. It had been difficult with the birth of Dahl, and Darla's birth only made thing's harder on all three of them. That's why Dahl needed to watch Darla while Evelyn worked. When Darla turned five, Evelyn would start to teach her the ways of the solid dove's. If they were lucky, she would be able to start ringing in customer's by the age of eleven. 'Maybe even ten, if we're lucky', the woman thought with a sigh.
Evelyn slowed to a stop, the last of her anger dispersing as she caught sight of her son, crouched down in the dirt and poking at tiny snake with a twig. At first, alarm rose in Evelyn, for she was unsure whether the snake was poisonous or not. And her son was only two, soon to turn three, and there was no way he could tell the difference. Evelyn approached him quickly, glancing down at the snake. A wave of relief washed over her as she gazed at the snake. Not a poison one. Nothing deadly that could hurt her son. As soon as the pounding of her heart slowed to a reasonable pace again, she moved even closer to her son.
A shadow slowly drifted over the young Dahl, shadowing him and his new found toy for the moment. The boy spun around, glancing up at he tall figure that was his mother. Dahl gulped, ready to be hit or yelled at, as would happen on a normal day.
Evelyn looked down at Dahl, her face stern but not fuming with rage as the boy had expected. Her sharp blue-green eyes locked onto her son's minty green eyes, and the two just stayed like that for a moment, both waiting for the other to begin with the argument they both knew was coming. It was clear, even for a boy so young, Dahl held alot of arrogance and pride. And even for someone who has sold her virginity for petty cash, Evelyn held the same amount of pride as her son.
After a moment, her eyes drifted away from her son's eyes, and began to take in his image in whole. His hair...it was not quite blond. It was more tannish colored. And his eye....mint green. It was an impossible color. Never in her lifetime, in her twenty two long years had she seen eyes of that color. Or hair of that light a tone. And Darla...she had the same look about her. Though the colors seemed more believable. They weren't so abnormally light and air as her brother's.
Slowly the boy stood, carrying with him a large green scarf. Evelyn bit down on her lip to keep from grinning. She had never actually believed Dahl would keep that scarf she had made or him last Christmas. The second Christmas he had witnessed, and the first with his sister. Evelyn thought back to the baby who was still, hopefully, napping in the ratty cradle set up in the backroom of the brothel. The girl had a bandanna made of the exact same fabric that made up her brother's scarf. But the thought of Darla startled her out of her daze. What if she'd woken up? No doubt she'd be making a racket, screaming at he top of her lungs. Not that it would bother anyone in the whorehouse, but she couldn't stand the thought of her pride and joy, and future family supporter, lying in a ratty cradle screaming at he top of her lungs for her mother and brother.
----
Okay, this is the start of Dahl and Darla's story. It's almost done, well, this little part is almost done at least. From where this one ends their stories branch off in their respective ways, and are completley diffrent from one another. So...yeah. It's not so elaboratley detailed, because that makes it wicked boring to read xD And it has some..um....'mature content' I guess, seeing as it's talking about brothel's and whores are stuff....
Yes, everything was as usual, nothing out of the ordinary. Not even the sudden angered screeching coming from the backroom of the Brothel. A door behind the bar counter flung open suddenly, a very angered looking woman standing there. Her dress was of the normal kind associated with the whore's in Texas, and anywhere else for that matter. But unlike some of the other whores, she was not on the chubby side, or far too young looking. Her figure, even under the gross garments she wore, was near perfect. An average slimness, not achieved by starvation, with an ample bosom that was not grossly large. And if one had not seen them head on, they would have near known that Evelyn O'Nega had given birth to two children. The stretch marks and scars seemed to have vanished all on there own, though knowing Evelyn, or Madame Roseate as the men whom were unfamiliar customer's knew her by, she had some kind of odd cream to hide them. Hair of a dirty blond coloration fell to her chin, with a slightly crimped look to it.
Her face red with either rage or annoyance, she stamped across the old wooden floor, her high heeled boots tapping delicately even though her footsteps were hard enough to leave gouges in the floor. Which, seeing as she had done the exact same thing as she was doing now at least five times a day for the past year or so, there actually were gouges in the thick, grey wood floor.
One of the older whore's chuckled slight as Evelyn approached her. Obviously trying to swallow down her rage, Evelyn gritted her teeth as the words she had spoken so many times before slid thru clenched teeth. "Where is he?"
The other woman chuckled again, before a sigh escaped her lips. With a large, fairly chubby hand she reached behind her, grabbing a glass cup off the table behind her. Casually, she pulled a grayed rag from the belt around her waist, beginning to wipe out the glass. At first, she made no attempt to answer the frustrated mother's question, then finally shrugged her shoulders. "Probably outside somewhere. He ran off a while ago."
Evelyn gave a low snarl of frustration as she thanked the older woman. She couldn't go off with a couple customer's for a little while without him running off. Her son was more of an annoyance then a gift from god, as some mother's might put it. A year ago it hadn't been much of a problem for him to run off every time she paid him no attention, there was nothing he could do in the Brothel but cause trouble anyways. But ever since his sister was born, Evelyn needed Dahl's help. Even if he was only two years old, he would be able to give his sister attention whenever she began crying. Something Evelyn couldn't always do, and knew the other whore's wouldn't do. Maybe the younger ones, but they were always snatched away by the greedy rich men that were constant customers first, and the older one's saw no reason as to why they should care for a child that was not their own.
Storming out of the whorehouse, Madame Roseate squinted against the bright Texas sun that threatened to blind her completely. It was much more drab in the whorehouse, the only real light from a few ratty chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. Fresh air flooded into her lungs, and it was a wonderful sensation, to breathe clean air. Clean, dusty air. But it was better than air saturated with sweat, smoke, alcohol, and worst of all; the smell of sex. One could not go ANYWHERE in a brothel without encountering the smell. But those who were constant customer's were used to it by now, the smell no longer effecting them in anyway at all.
With the smell of fresh air cascading into her lungs, sending an almost euphoric sensation thru her body, Evelyn wished to dwell in that one spot that the sunlight filtered down just the right amount and the air was fresh and clean. But, though unfortunate it was, she had to leave. Had to find her bastard son and again shout at him. 'My god' she thought, the voice in her mind tinged with bitterness. 'If I have to keep screaming at him, soon I'll have no voice left to speak with. Or moan with...' And, what good was a whore if they could not moan and make all means of pleasured sounds. Somehow, it brought satisfaction to the customers. The more satisfaction a whore brought to a customer, the more money. Stepping further into the streets of Tombstone, Evelyn strode along expertly ignoring the glances that were sent her way. She had grown used to them long ago. As any soiled dove would, else wise they would never succeed in their career. Something she intended to teach her young daughter early on.
Evelyn sighed, anger slowly slipping away from her as her contorted expression of anger faded away into a frown. That was why she had to yell at her son. He did not seem to realize what an importance his little sister would be to the family. With the absence of the man who had, somehow, impregnated Evelyn twice to bring her these little 'gifts from god', she had to work extra hard to keep them going. It had been difficult with the birth of Dahl, and Darla's birth only made thing's harder on all three of them. That's why Dahl needed to watch Darla while Evelyn worked. When Darla turned five, Evelyn would start to teach her the ways of the solid dove's. If they were lucky, she would be able to start ringing in customer's by the age of eleven. 'Maybe even ten, if we're lucky', the woman thought with a sigh.
Evelyn slowed to a stop, the last of her anger dispersing as she caught sight of her son, crouched down in the dirt and poking at tiny snake with a twig. At first, alarm rose in Evelyn, for she was unsure whether the snake was poisonous or not. And her son was only two, soon to turn three, and there was no way he could tell the difference. Evelyn approached him quickly, glancing down at the snake. A wave of relief washed over her as she gazed at the snake. Not a poison one. Nothing deadly that could hurt her son. As soon as the pounding of her heart slowed to a reasonable pace again, she moved even closer to her son.
A shadow slowly drifted over the young Dahl, shadowing him and his new found toy for the moment. The boy spun around, glancing up at he tall figure that was his mother. Dahl gulped, ready to be hit or yelled at, as would happen on a normal day.
Evelyn looked down at Dahl, her face stern but not fuming with rage as the boy had expected. Her sharp blue-green eyes locked onto her son's minty green eyes, and the two just stayed like that for a moment, both waiting for the other to begin with the argument they both knew was coming. It was clear, even for a boy so young, Dahl held alot of arrogance and pride. And even for someone who has sold her virginity for petty cash, Evelyn held the same amount of pride as her son.
After a moment, her eyes drifted away from her son's eyes, and began to take in his image in whole. His hair...it was not quite blond. It was more tannish colored. And his eye....mint green. It was an impossible color. Never in her lifetime, in her twenty two long years had she seen eyes of that color. Or hair of that light a tone. And Darla...she had the same look about her. Though the colors seemed more believable. They weren't so abnormally light and air as her brother's.
Slowly the boy stood, carrying with him a large green scarf. Evelyn bit down on her lip to keep from grinning. She had never actually believed Dahl would keep that scarf she had made or him last Christmas. The second Christmas he had witnessed, and the first with his sister. Evelyn thought back to the baby who was still, hopefully, napping in the ratty cradle set up in the backroom of the brothel. The girl had a bandanna made of the exact same fabric that made up her brother's scarf. But the thought of Darla startled her out of her daze. What if she'd woken up? No doubt she'd be making a racket, screaming at he top of her lungs. Not that it would bother anyone in the whorehouse, but she couldn't stand the thought of her pride and joy, and future family supporter, lying in a ratty cradle screaming at he top of her lungs for her mother and brother.
----
Okay, this is the start of Dahl and Darla's story. It's almost done, well, this little part is almost done at least. From where this one ends their stories branch off in their respective ways, and are completley diffrent from one another. So...yeah. It's not so elaboratley detailed, because that makes it wicked boring to read xD And it has some..um....'mature content' I guess, seeing as it's talking about brothel's and whores are stuff....