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He strode through the Gut of New Babbage, whistling as he went. A rather grubby looking brown paper envelope was brushed idly back and forth over the palm of his left hand as those heavy boots of his clomped over the cobbles, carrying him down to a certain Spanish dame’s office. That envelope with Bianca’s name scratched across it was slid under the door and off he headed across town for the docks.
The note read simply:
Hey there, darling. Takin a trip back to New York to take care of some old business and to see my old man. I be seein you soon as I can. You be sure to punch ol Ghede’s lights out fer me with that new arm of yers If he tries gettin up yor skirts. And if Mags gets in yur hair, jus tell her I’ll bring her somethin from home if she behaves. I’ll try to bring ya somethin fancy too. Till I get back keep the fires goin.

Hell’s bells, he really could write! Though his spelling was terrible and it was in print just legible enough that she wouldn’t have to strain to read it. It was signed simply with a finger print of bright red from his cap.

(Real life’s getting really busy right now, so I won’t be in SL for a bit. Don’t you people go and do anything I would while I’m gone. ;)

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3 Comments

  1. Bianca Namori Bianca Namori November 4, 2010

    She folds the note before looking at the fire of her uptown hacienda. She understood, far to well how one could be taken from business, but before she could hold the paper over the candle to hide the communication she often tried to between them…she sighed…greatly and placed the letter to her heart before muttering…

    “You’re the murderer, not me…is it my fate to be left by every man I’ve tried to care for in my time of need?”

     

    She then looked to the letter once more and held it over the candles flickering flame, musing to herself as she let it burn.

    “Heh…no one will get up my skirts…he didn’t…Ghede didn’t…and neither…will…you…”

  2. Maggie Lynwood Maggie Lynwood November 4, 2010

    It takes more ‘n the promise o’ a bauble ter keep me in check, Mr. Bones. *sniggers*

     

    • Rusty Bones Rusty Bones November 5, 2010

      Now, lil’ lady, don’t think I said nothin bout no baubles. Did I? Ain’t one fer useless trinkets none.

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