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    • "Maybe, fer this special occasion," Addy suggested, "we can try a little'a each?  That way, we can get a taste'a everything, so next time, we know what our favorite is."  It was a plan that appealed to her, so she didn't have to decide which she wanted!   "Never turn down help," she declared, "but seems ta me yer th' one needs help brushin' them horses down."  She glanced at Weedy and Josh, considering for a moment if it was safe to let the boy go up into the loft, but then, his father could stop him, and, after all, he was a Chappel!  He'd grown up around horses, and was of hardy stock!   With them all working together, it wouldn't take too long to get the horses settled, and then they could be on the way to treats!   @MD
    • "We'll get on."  Addy was determined, and once she grabbed hold of the crude rope halter, she had control of the animal.  "Here..."  Cupping her hands, she made a step for Caroline, to give her a boost up.  "Just grab his mane."   TBC   @Wayfarer                    
    • Mature Content: Doubt it With: Tyrell Garret Thornton Location: Add specific location information here. When: Mid-July 1876 Time of Day: Encompasses a couple of days     Place holder
    • Anæsthesia wasn't exactly convinced by all these homilies about falling out of trees, breaking arms, and sleeping in the mud: she smiled politely, if a little tightly. Truth to tell, she felt a little bit 'got at' - the snobby girl was getting a taste of her own medicine in the form of the inverted-snobbery of these rough frontier folk.    She suddenly blurted, rather defensively "I have learned to shoot a gun!"   "I have a 1858 model Lefaucheux double action revolver, and really am rather a good shot with it." she said proudly. Now maybe they'd stop telling her that she needed to fall out of a tree to be able to claim that her life had any meaning.    Of course, the hypocrisy was that she was quite willing to tell others what they should be doing with their lives: like learning to read.      @Bongo @MD
    • Mr McVey was chattering away as Arabella grabbed her non-packable items: two dresses, spare bonnet, basket and three large round circles made of bamboo. These were very hard to carry and to manoeuvre through the doorway.    "You and I disagree on a number of things, yet, we agree on others. Mister Reeve is certainly one to keep an eye on. And I would say, he is dangerous in another way, to the political atmosphere in Kalispell. He is an odd fellow, yet, so is Mister Pettigrew. Perhaps the goal of him running is to slit the vote? I'm not exactly confident on that assumption."   "Now don't you be mean about Mr Pettigrew, Mr McVey, he's been right nice to me: teachin' me all about how to speak proper and act like a lady." she objected. Pettigrew had taught her something else, too, something more important than those surface embellishments, something at her very core.    He hoisted the trunk that was surprising lighter than he would have expected. "As time moves on, we'll have a better idea of Pettigrew's purpose in the grand scheme of the elections this fall." He added, then, "I'm following you, Arabella."   "Hold on, I'm all tangled up!" she yelped, the three bamboo circles seemed to have minds of their own and were doing their darndest to stop her getting through the doorway. "I'm takin' these hoops with me, in case crinolines come back in!" she informed him.    Eventually she got herself through the door and down the stairs, with a shout of "I'm goin' now, I'll be back at seven!" at Caroline's door. When the two of them reached the bar, there was a ragged cheer from some of the rounders who were regulars "Don't worry, I'll be back at seven, boys!" she assured them.   "Oh damn!" one of them joked.    "You movin' in with him?!" another joshed. Arabella laughed and didn't say yes and didn't say no: well, Phin had said he didn't care if people talked!   @Flip

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“To be fair I think it’s more important that you’re used to them rather than me.”  He stopped before adding any more inane comments.

 

Frances smiled: not so much at the words themselves, she had always been what other people termed 'blind' whatever that meant, of course she was used to it. It was just her world. It was hard to imagine what 'sighted' even meant. She knew that most other people had some extra sense that meant they didn't have to feel for things the way she did, and that they could differentiate between two things that felt and smelled and tasted the same to her: it didn't seem any great gain, expect that the world was designed for people to use this extra sense to get around and do things. 

 

No, what made her smile was the sentiment behind James' words. He was sensitive, nervous, empathetic, he was trying to say the right thing while not knowing the right thing to say. He heart reached out to him. 
 
James nodded, then realized what he’d just done in front of the blind woman and spoke, “I’d be delighted to assist you in any way that I can Miss Grimes.”  He hurriedly assured her. 

 

Again, the man's essential goodness warmed her. 

 

"I only hope I can carry all this scrap metal, Marshall!" she joked. But the more elderly voiced man was right. Oh, Frances could feel the difference between notes which looked about the same to a sighted person, the problem was the plethora of different notes issues by different banks at different times: even the National Currency was far from uniform: printed by different printers in different places, but all backed up by the Federal Reserve. It was a problem that would puzzle blind people for a long, long time.

 

Then she felt a pang of guilt. Her brother, only a few hours dead, and here she was... flirting! The nice Mr Vaughn probably didn't realise it, he sounded rather innocent of such things, but she suspected the more experienced Mr Guyer might be observing it somehow: a flush of her cheek, the way she leant into Mr Vaughn when he spoke, a stupid, sloppy look on her face! Oh Dear! Things she couldn't always monitor and correct!

 

"Well James, you seem to have everything well in hand. I've thing that need doing, so I best get to the," Speed said. "Miss Grimes, a pleasure to meet you."

@Nova

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James smiled back, forgetting again that she could not see it.  Truthfully he would be hard pressed to stop himself from doing such things even in her presence but for those who had sight, they would struggle to imagine how she lived as well as she did without it.  It was as ingrained in him as it was for her doing without.  Because he’d been raised at all-male boarding schools, the young British man had very limited experience with the fairer sex, this was simply a fact, one that James had no trouble acknowledging.

 

When she joked with the Marshall regarding being weighed down with metal coins, James chuckled at her jest, stopping suddenly as something occurred to him.  “I say!”  He exclaimed, then rushed on, “Have you ever given thought to folding each kind of bill in a different way so that you can tell which is which?”  He caught his breath then, waiting to see what she or the Marshall thought of his latest idea.  If she needed his assistance in the folding, he'd be happy to help her.

 

As she suspected, James was oblivious to the fact that she was gently flirting with him, taking everything at face value, his inexperience with the fairer sex once again rearing it’s head.  He caught something of the heat that colored her cheeks, and the errant thought passed through his mind that she might be falling ill.  Not uncommon so soon after the passing of a loved one.

Edited by Nova (see edit history)
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"Farewell Marshall, thank you again for your help... and for introducing me to Mr. Vaughn." Frances bid the helpful lawman farewell.

 

When she joked with the Marshall regarding being weighed down with metal coins, James chuckled at her jest, stopping suddenly as something occurred to him.  “I say!”  He exclaimed, then rushed on, “Have you ever given thought to folding each kind of bill in a different way so that you can tell which is which?”  He caught his breath then, waiting to see what she or the Marshall thought of his latest idea.  If she needed his assistance in the folding, he'd be happy to help her.

 

Back in New York most bank tellers knew to fold paper money in specific ways for the blind, Frances remembered: $1 bills unfolded; $5 bills lengthwise; $10 bills by width and $20 bills (if you were rich enough to have such things) lengthwise and then by width and, if possible, placed in a separate compartment in the afflicted person's pocket book.

 

"Oh, that's a wonderful idea!" Frances smiled. Frankly, if he'd suggested standing on her head and singing Dixie, she would have probably responded enthusiastically. He just sounded so proud of his idea, like a puppy who has just presented a dirty old stick to its master or mistress. It felt nice, it felt good, to reward him. She hoped he wouldn't have too many great ideas in the future - well, at least, not about how to live in this sighted world as a blind person. He was welcome to have other ideas, though, about other things. More than welcome. 

 

As she suspected, James was obvious to the fact that she was gently flirting with him, taking everything at face value, his inexperience with the fairer sex once again rearing it’s head.  He caught something of the heat that colored her cheeks, and the errant thought passed through his mind that she might be falling ill.  Not uncommon so soon after the passing of a loved one.

 

"Mr. Vaughn. Could we start things off by visiting the saloon together. It is the one place that I am sure my brother was a regular customer. If he owes money anywhere, that will be the place." she asked in her usual forthright way. She also felt the need the face up to visiting the place where Frank had met his unfortunate, if almost predictable end. 

 

@Nova 

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“Have a good day sir.”  James told the Marshal with a little nod of his head as the older man made his farewells and departed, leaving he and Frances alone in the office.
 
James hadn’t encountered another blind person before so he had no idea what type of things they needed to function in a sighted world, so when the idea of folding the money occurred to him he’d been eager to share it.  In the hopes of making life a little easier for the young lady before him.  
 
Because he was by nature a kind-hearted man, it would be likely that he would come up with ideas in the hopes of making her life easier.  But hopefully not enough to be a nuisance to Frances.  Her assessment of him while less than flattering for James really wasn’t that far off the mark.  James did in many ways resemble an over-eager puppy, with his gangly limbs and his desire to please.
 
“The saloon?”  James echoed a little hesitantly since his experience with the saloon in town hadn’t been the greatest.  “If that’s where you need to go then that's where we will go.”  He thought he could keep her safe, if only because he had no intention of taking her there in the evening when the place would be busier.  “I think the morning would be best.”  He suggested, trying to hide his worry.

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They had done all that they could do for the moment and Frances eventually stood to go, being most assiduously helped up and out and home by the eager, friendly and utterly charming (in his gauche way) Mr. James Vaughn.

 

Unfortunately, whether by that quirk of life called coincidence, so much beloved of writers of light romantic fiction, or something she ate, Frances was quite ill for the next few days, and it was some time before she could meet up with the socially clumsy Mr. Vaughn to make the trip to various businesses frequented by her late brother, starting with the Saloon. 

 

In that time, unbeknownst to Frances and perhaps to James (who was hardly an habitué of such places) the saloon had changed hands, into the ownership of the very man who had gunned her brother down!

 

[OOC: I'll start a new thread for the visit to the saloon]

 

 

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About Sagas

Sagas of the WIld West is a roleplaying game set in a fictionalized version of the town of Kalispell in Montana territory. Our stories begin in 1875 and are set against the backdrop of actual historical events.Sagas was inspired by the classic television and movie westerns. Our focus is on writing, storytelling and character development.

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