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 The Friends We've Left Behind, Tag: Marten
Sofia Cross
 Posted: Oct 26 2014, 10:58 PM
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When Sofia first traveled west she discovered freedoms that she had never even imagined to be real. In towns like New Hope a girl would wear whatever she wanted, speak however she desired, live free from the watchful eye of parents and clergymen and such. In the farthest western reaches of the country a woman could become someone entirely different! And yet despite the incredible freedoms that Sofia had earned by traveling out west she was still never entirely unchained. She was a slave to her own desperation in many ways; Desperation for clothes, desperation for friends, desperation for lovers. It was Sofia's desperate need to have a man or woman fill her arm that truly chained her to the saloon, to the drink, and everything else that came along with it, not to mention her prevailing sense of malaise… But she had to say that the desperation was improving. Truly one of the greatest freedoms of all had to be the freedom to live life without being in need, without lacking, and Sofia had not been feeling as if she were in any painful sort of need that week. It was all because of the new friend that she'd made in New Hope, a handsome man by the name of Gideon, that Sofia was feeling so much more satisfied. He was many of the things that she desired all wrapped up in to one package and he was fantastically available. When Sofia stepped into Rutherford's on another cool, rainy night she stepped inside with an easy smile and a high-collared blouse that hid some of the faint marks on her neck. She felt more at peace now than she had in years and it showed. Gideon might not have been a long-term solution but Sofia would be damned if he didn't help her get through a hard time.

Some of her usual companions noticed Sofia's easy-going mood that evening but they only made a few comments about it before lettering the matter slide. Mostly they were amused that Sofia had been in such a good, calming mood for days now. Sofia's moods were usually so night-and-day that consistency was rare but consistency was certainly welcome, that was for sure. Sofia began her evening by casually floating from one group of companions to the next. She had friends she drank with, friends she played cards with, working girls that she liked to gossip with… It was a small social circle and none of her contact amounted to anyone truly like a friend but it was enough to make Sofia feel welcomed and communal in the smoky saloon. After about an hour of making her rounds Sofia had come to believe that she'd seen everyone in Rutherford's but another face - familiar in its own way - caught Sofia's eye and she craned her neck across the bar to see who it was.

The face that captured Sofia's attention was intriguing because it looked damn familiar but upon initial inspection Sofia could not figure out who he was. He had a chiseled look… Not like Gideon's strong jaw, however, but in the sense that he looked to be older than her and his years showed in his skin. The man had a striking profile though, good hair, and eyes that looked as mournful as an abandoned dog's… He was handsome in his own right and… Oh, yes.

Yes.

Recognition hit Sofia like a horrifyingly familiar bag of bricks. She was grinning suddenly without any visible provocation but her face felt warm. Sofia looked around her to find that her companions - a bunch of card-players waiting for their turn - were hardly paying the woman a bit of attention. Sure, she was sitting on a cowboy's lap but he didn't pay much attention when Sofia got up from his knee and stepped away. Sofia had dressed more like a proper lady that evening - Or as proper as she got, anyway, for a girl who spent her time in saloons. Sofia wore a full shirt made of a floral cornflower blue fabric and a crisp white blouse over the slim corset that shaped her bodice. Her blouse had a high lacy collar that ended at her sharp jaw and Sofia had attempted to tame her unruly hair in the face of so much dampness and humidity by twisting it up into a bun that, despite her best efforts, was still a bit messy. Over top of her blouse and skirt, however, Sofia had draped a colorful blue and red linen shaw, a feminine artifact from her days living on the islands back east. She felt put-together enough to have been a respectable wife or mother. But of course, the man that Sofia slid beside would have known better.

"Hello again," Sofia's rouged lips spoke to him softly in the dull roar of the saloon. She was smiling but her bright eyes looked inquisitively at him, looking for a spark of recognition, "Remember me?"

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Marten LaCroix
 Posted: Nov 7 2014, 09:43 PM
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Marten had lost track of how long he'd spent in the saloon, or of how much he drank, or how drunk he really was. It was a doozy of a night all around, though, that much was clear. Anyone looking at him could have caught the flickering light of poisoned blankness in his eye from time to time. Mostly he just sat and drank and tried not to think too much. Thinking about the home he'd left back in Nova Scotia, or of the Rougaroux who followed him here and threatened him still, or of the complex feelings he had for the housekeeper who was at least a dozen years his junior...well. It didn't make for a wonderful evening. His melancholia had been weighing on him deeply lately. He knew it only meant that he needed to change soon, something he'd avoided since arriving in New Hope. But it didn't make the feeling any easier. It was getting harder and harder to wake up in the morning, and once he was awake, it was getting harder and harder to fall asleep. He had spent the best part of several days in varying states of inebriation, much to Norah's chagrin, though he tried his best not to let the girl see too much of him when he was clean out of his gourd.

It was nearing time for him to go home tonight, before he couldn't find his way. He slapped some money onto the counter and turned on his stool to leave, but he came face to face with a woman instead - one he recognized very well. And, it seemed, who recognized him.

"Hello again... Remember me?"

His mouth spread into a slow, leering grin. His sharp blue eyes, though glazed over just enough to make it clear just how drunk he'd let himself get, managed to focus on the pretty blonde apothecary. He swept his gaze over her body, lingering especially at her breasts, before meeting her eyes.

"How could I forget?" he said languidly. He leaned on the bar top and gave her another appreciative look. It was a look that could, and had in the past, get him slapped, but he was in no state to care. "If you don't mind me saying so - no, actually, I don't give a shit if you mind - I'd never forget such a spectacular set of tits. Now, I know you and the pretty, significantly endowed surgeon aren't married...but do you fuck exclusively?"
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Sofia Cross
 Posted: Nov 9 2014, 10:44 PM
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The man turned to look at her and the smile that he gave Sofia in return was all that she needed to know. He was clearly drunk, true. His eyes seemed foggy and uncertain and his lids too heavy. However, he had a very distinctive look about him with a prominent brow, a large, sculpted nose, and eyes so bright blue that they rivaled Sofia's bright green. Even drunk he looked spectacular. Not handsome, maybe... No, he was handsome in his own way. But more - Eye-catching. If Sofia's grin was not bound by certain physical limits she would have beamed even more when those vibrant blue eyes plainly swept over every inch of her body and lingered on her bosom. Either he recognized her or he was just drunk as a deer in fallen apple season.

"How could I forget?"

Sofia had not realized how badly she wanted him to remember her until that moment! He was hungover when he stormed in to Gideon's place according to his own admission and he was clearly drunk now but apparently Sofia, as she knew, was memorable. She sat up taller in pride and felt instantly amicable with this man. They had a shared experience and a shared appreciation for the opposite sex. He was a funny man with a funny accent and he seemed painfully familiar, like she knew him from more than just the incident with Gideon and his hungover desperation. Since he was happily eyeing her up Sofia took a glance herself, looking for something memorable... Sometimes she didn't remember faces but she almost always recognized a cock. Was that crass? It was a good thing she didn't say it out loud. Apparently he didn't have the same reservations.

"If you don't mind me saying so - No, actually, I don't give a shit if you mind - I'd never forget such a spectacular set of tits."

Sofia's visual assessment was interrupted when she laughed out loud like a hyena - And just as delicately, too. She had a loud, unladylike laugh that made women scowl at her when she was amongst more polite company than the Rutherford Saloon. In here her laughter was just a murmur in the din.

"Now, I know you and the pretty, significantly endowed surgeon aren't married... but do you fuck exclusively?"

"Do we fuck exclusively...? No, of course not!" Sofia giggled and leaned in toward the man with the French accent. Listening to him talk was fun - Enjoyable. He had a good voice that seemed warm and familiar and reminded Sofia of the good parts of home. It was a shame that she was not displaying any cleavage - Otherwise the angle she leaned in to would have been quite the scene. "We're very good friends, I'll have you know! Sure, there's fucking but we talk, you know, and e work together, and we like to read books together... We also--"

None of the above was true but Sofia was offended that this strange new man would think that she and Gideon only had sex. They were going to be friends! So Sofia wasn't lying, she was just telling the man about their friendship before it happened. However, Sofia replayed the words in ehr hair. He wasn't asking if she and Gideon did things other than have sex. Sofia stopped herself, laughed again, and shook her head.

"No," Sofia understood what he was saying and looked at the Frenchman through long eyelashes, "We are not exclusive. It's been a while since I went to bed with a proper Francophone, too... T'es un homme beau," Sofia complimented the Frenchman in an accent that was not precise given that it was founded in the maritimes. She spoke French in nearly the same accent that she spoke English - A brunt and inelegant Massachusetts dialect. Her words were basic - Just enough to say, "You are a handsome man." But Sofia knew only the basics. "Est-ce que nous nous sommes deja recontres?" "Have we met before?"


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