ikissdhimbck: (Wild Wild West)
[following this:]


The door opens up to a fancy hotel room. It may not be as rich as some Loki has seen in his time, but as Kate leads him through the door he'll notice the grand four-poster bed, the fine washstand with an array of soaps and perfumes set out, the gold-framed mirror and the clean plaster walls. Kate keeps it immaculate, her things contained on a vanity table and hidden inside an oak armoire. The only thing astray is a book, which is kept next to the bed.

"Ain't exactly proper, leadin' a man out of my bedroom."

Her lips twist. Milliways does love to complicate things.

"Mireille's room is next door."
ikissdhimbck: (Wild Wild West)
[following this:]


The Tremont Opera House* may in fact be the most notable playhouse ever built in Texas. Standing on the corner of Tremont and Market Streets, the Tremont Theatre replicates the famous Booth Theatre in Manhattan (whose owner, Edwin Booth, comes to perform often). Its Italianate details, Corinthian columns, and beaux-art cast iron facades on the north and west sides of the building, set the opera house apart from the other theaters peppered across Galveston.

Designed by architect T.H. Adams and built by Galveston News editor and senior proprietor Willard Richardson, the Tremont — originally known simply as The Galveston Opera House — helped triple the population of Galveston. Richardson fulfilled his passion for theater by building the Tremont on the site of his newspaper offices, which the Galveston fire of 1869 destroyed along with more than one hundred other downtown buildings. It lifted the cultural life of the city during the boom after the Civil War, and has become a cultural mecca in the Southwest, drawing international stars of stage and opera.


Kate's door leads out of the hotel she's currently staying in, three blocks from the theater. However, it's a nice night for a respectable pair to take a stroll, and there's no more respectable a pair than Kate and Jim in their current attire, respectively. They link arms, and make their way to the grand Market Street entrance.

Jim, knowing his history as he does, may be aware that Victorian burlesque and vaudevillian comedies are the vogue at the moment; however, with such a distinguished orchestra and players, not to mention Kate's repeated insistence he'll love what she has in store for him, who knows what he might see tonight?


*Links to a .pdf, THE TREMONT OPERA HOUSE OF GALVESTON: THE FIRST YEARS, for additional history and information on the building, the players, and city.
ikissdhimbck: (Wild Wild West)
"I wish he would make up his mind, ma, /
For I don’t care much longer to wait; /
I’m sure I have hinted quite strongly, /
That I thought about changing my state; /
For a sweetheart he’s really so backward, /
I can’t bring him out if I try; /
I own that he’s very good temper’d, /
But then he’s so dreadfully shy; /
I own that he’s very good temper’d, /
But then he’s so dreadfully shy!"


She snickers; it's astounding how such an innocent ballad can be so tawdry when joined by hoots and hollers and wolf-whistling, the shake of ruffled skirts and the flash of stockinged thighs )
ikissdhimbck: (Wild Wild West)
[Previously...]

Ms. Katherine James appeared in Galveston one early August evening, astride a clear-eyed red dun with a stern young companion at her back. To say the apparition wasn't poetic, even for the bustling port town, would be a grievous omission.

On their first day in Galveston, Kate and Rachel install themselves in the first fancy hotel they agree upon; an opulent Greek Revival with a hotel saloon and all the latest comforts. Galveston's as big a city as you could hope for out West, and they find no trouble filling the hours with twenty-five cent baths perfumed with rose petals and lye soaps, hot square meals, entertainment, and the first comfortable night spent in their respective rooms — feather pillows and silk sheets — since they started on the trail east from Cuero.

It takes a few days for everyone to find each other. Ace is the first to ride in, followed a day later by Butch and Mireille. In that time, Kate takes to exploring the island. Her father would come home with stories after business trips and quick errands, but Kate herself has never been to the coastal cities. She's never seen the buildings pock-marked with salt mist and sun and mildew, or smelled the tangled gardens hung heavy on the muggy air. Galveston's a wealthy, modern, commercial gateway to cotton, cattle, and other trades, whose mercantile benefactors have made it a cultural and architectural showpiece without equal west of New York.

Having seen the New York of the future, that makes Kate smile privately. Wandering Galveston's urban streets makes her wonder if someday it will sprawl just as big, whereas now it swims like a guppy in the vast ocean of progress where New York City is a shark.

(And, unmentionable, unthinkable, comes the pang that accompanies remembering her trip to New York, where thoughts of Tommy are quickly suppressed.)

Kate catalogs the avenues, the back streets; making maps of getaway routes in her mind. The Strand spans Twentieth to Twenty-fifth Streets, a commercial epicenter akin to Wall Street, where she counts five enormous banks and eight newspapers. The former makes the gears in her mind crank, potentials endless, but she meekly skirts past the latter for fear of being recognized. Ms. Katherine James, daughter of wealthy cattle baron Elijah James, secretly the infamous kissing outlaw half of Texas now hunts. Wouldn't that sell a rag or two?

Punctuating the western end of the Strand is the Sante Fe Railroad station. Steam billows from an engine, which looks to her like an angry bull impatiently awaiting a rider; the rumble and ruckus of lever, engine, and air is low, but deafening. Kate wanders the limestone halls, glancing over newsstands in search of familiar names and dollar amounts. 'CUERO BANK ROBBED BY KISSIN' KATE!' But she sees nothing.

Yet.

She meanders through the East End, along Sealy, Ball, Winnie, and Church Streets, across Broadway where business gives way to extravagant Queen Anne style homes, fine cast-iron Gothic Revival verandas, wooden galleries, columns, and balustrades carved with intricate Gothic and Greek Revival designs — every ounce of wealth from the Strand on display, boasting, bragging. She pauses for a while outside the limestone and granite mansion she's told is the "Bishop's Palace", and wonders what it would be like to strip these people of their grand vestments. To show them what it's like to live like Viktoria, and the rest of the people of Cuero so long taken advantage of.

The thought passes.

She eventually makes her way back through the business district (and even it peacocks about, cast-iron facade decorations and iron hoods over every window), the ghostly scents of oleander and hibiscus melting away to German Jewish delicacies, the scent of the cotton mills, horses, and sweat. The occasional blast of salt and sea off the Gulf. The barking calls of merchants haggling, inviting, tempting; the sound of wagon wheels and clinking glasses and people laughing and crying and buying and selling and living.

It's a good place to get lost, if you're running from something.

But Kate stands in the broad way, and thinks to herself, Goddammit, I'm gonna make you people see me.

The trick will be not letting them see Weyland's giant mechanical bird first.

(Finding a suitable place for Hildegard didn't exactly come easily, but rich Victorians who rely on oil and shipping as their main trades don't have much use for plow, hoe, or most helpfully, barns. The golden bird tucks herself in the hayloft, nests in old straw; Mireille is satisfied, though some mean streak in Kate's humor is tempted to let her loose on those fine Queen Annes and watch the people scatter as she picks off cattle and sheep for snacks.)

Their first night all together, Butch, Ace, Mireille, Rachel, and Kate, is spent in celebration. Kate promised them a party, and she found one in the Garten Verein. The city's so bright and shiny with all the finest modern ideas that bona fide electricity lights up the German dancing pavilion, giving Kempner Park a soft, unearthly glow. Folk are nice enough, the night is warm, there's no lack for beer, and the time stretches on in laughter, dance, spirit and song. After the job, it's a needed respite. And before she can buy Butch that dinner she promised him, it's a welcome moment to spend in merriment.

For every thing there is a season.

For every wound, a salve.


For every job there is a time to spend, to keep breathing, to live.
ikissdhimbck: (Night sky)
[following this:]


They haven't been in Galveston but a few days when Butch asks to meet with her. She's been looking for a moment to talk with him anyhow, so she heads down to the hotel saloon after the rest of the group has turned in, where there's naught but a handful of folk lingering, mostly drunks, and finds him at a table in the corner.

"Howdy."

She sits herself down opposite, watching the candle flicker between them.

"How y'doin'?"
ikissdhimbck: (Colt SAA)
The plan had been so simple.

Cuero's only about a five hour ride from Yorktown, across the Guadalupe by horseback. While the young Mr. Lehane, Mr. Adler, and Mr. Ferguson made themselves comfortable in Yorktown, Kate afforded two scouting trips. She only ever took Butch and Ace, her right-hand man and the lookout, leaving the other two to their devices. Folk remembered her — the young Mrs. Prudence Evans, whose husband the preacher was hoping to settle her somewhere kinder to her consumption — and Butch and Ace looked enough the part of two gentleman parishioners that nary an eye lingered in suspicion.

Everything was as it should be.

They were so confident.

It should have been easy.




11:17
on the morning of Saturday
JULY 28th



Kate's fine laced boots touch down in a shallow mud puddle. Beaut's skin twitches, and she sidles closer to Arrow, while Salty comes up on her right side. The mud draggles the blue skirts Kate wears on her way to the boardwalk. She's calm, and prim, hands gloved in brown leather, hair up in curls and bonneted. She enters the bank first, on business with Mr. Buchel.

The other boys will follow.
ikissdhimbck: (Night sky)
By the time she reaches Oakville, it's after sunset and she's been riding all day. The last hints of yellow are fading from the sky, giving way to the pregnant dark blue of an endless night. She hitches Beaut to a post outside the first saloon she happens by, noting the livery stable to the south down the broad way. There's a nice hotel across the street.

But, first things first.

The batwing doors swing open as she steps in, all of five feet, tousled hair, and eyes as hard as diamonds. It ain't like it is in one of them Western ‘moo-vees’ — most folk don't pay her any mind.

Most.
ikissdhimbck: (Wild Wild West)
[Sometime after this:]



When Kate leads Butch out her door, they end up in an ordinary bunkhouse. It's where she and Mireille have been staying the past few weeks. The robot woman is happy to see them, but they don't stay for long. Today's the day.

The gang's riding in.

Beaut and Salty are already saddled up; the latter is one of John's dapple grey geldings. He'll be Butch's main legs while he's here. It's about a half hour ride to Yorktown, a good portion of which takes them through John's property, so there are no problems to speak of.

Hopefully, as they ride up to the fancy saloon in the heart of the town, that luck will continue.
ikissdhimbck: (Wild Wild West)
Kate's door opens out into her hotel room. It's nice  —  real nice, to be honest. Four poster bed, basin, writing desk, carved oak bureau and vanity. Empire draperies in rich reds and golds; pristine horsehair plaster walls.

"C'mon in."

Kate sets her things down on the bed, and turns to Miss X. Standing akimbo, she grins.

"Shall we see what the Miss picked out?"
ikissdhimbck: (Cowgirl Rancher Stablehand Silhouette)
Kate doesn't try to draw attention to herself, but it's kind of hard to sneak through the bar leading a 15-hand pony. Beaut's not fond of hardwood, truth be told, but convenient doors to Texas aren't always to be found from the forest outside.

"Come along, sugar. Not far now an' there'll be dirt under your hooves again."

Beaut issues a dubious snort, sidestepping when a waitrat ventures a little too close. Kate swings around to steady her, arm brushing a piece of yellowed paper she's got tucked into her britches. She knocks it loose, and it flutters to the floor behind her.

"He ain't botherin' you. C'mon."

She moves a little faster. The quicker she gets Beaut outside, the better. Opening her door, she grins as Beaut's ears twitch forward in recognition, and lets her mosey out first.

"No, no. By all means, let me hold the door for you."

The two disappear.

But the yellowed map remains.


As does the door.
ikissdhimbck: (Wild Wild West)
Over the Spring/Summer of 2011, a plot arc with Gene Hunt (Life on Mars) visiting Kate's Texas, c. 1888, was meant to occur in her [community profile] milliways_bar timeline. After a few months, the plot was abandoned. It has since become an AU, and should be treated as a standalone plot not associated with any game, and not fitting into Kate's continuity.

Since several people have shown an interest in reading it, I have organized each post here in order from first to last.


  •   May    6th        †   Western Texas, 1888     The pair arrives in Texas, and Gene visits his very first Old West town... and encounters the local wildlife. [144 comments]
  •   May  14th        †   Western Texas, 1888 (pt. 2)     Camp the next morning. The two share breakfast and a few angry words. As you do. [49 comments]
  •   May  17th        †   Choke Canyon, 1888     They make camp for the night, and Gene has more adventures with local wildlife — to put things lightly.* [176 comments]
  •   May  26th        †   Oakville, 1888     At last they arrive in Oakville, and Gene meets some local color. [133 comments]
  •   June 12th       †   Oakville, 1888 (pt. 2)     That night, Gene and Kate go on their first date. [156 comments]
  •   June 25th       †   The Morning After     After things the night before get awkward, Kate's distressed to find Gene's gone by morning. He returns drunk, and she leaves him to his foul mood, exploring Oakville instead. Later, Gene has a bone to pick with a certain man in black, and when he returns to the hotel he and Kate find a way to reconcile.* [230 comments]
  •   July    9th        †   Oakville, 1888     A morning that could have been spent fooling around is interrupted when a town meeting is called. [91 comments]
  •   August    1st   †   Just Outside Oakville, 1888     After Gene volunteers to catch cattle rustlers, Kate takes him to a private place where she can teach him a thing or two about being a cowboy. Gene is easily distracted by other needs. Later that night, the two are accosted on their way back into town. They spend the night together.* [313 comments]
  •   October 2nd   †   Oakville, Morning     It's Gene's first day on the job. Kate rouses him so he won't be late, but he manages to coerce her into a little morning hanky-panky. Thread never completed.* [52 comments]


I'm rather proud of what did get accomplished, all in all. Many thanks to the impeccable Gene Hunt! Feel free to leave comments below.


* Adult content
ikissdhimbck: (Empty bed)
**NOTE: This is part of a plot arc that was meant to occur in Milliways over the Spring/Summer of 2011 in Bar Time. It has since become an AU, and should be treated as a standalone plot not associated with any game, and not fitting into Kate's continuity. This thread was never finished.**



She wakes with a start.

The light streaming in through the window is cut by lace curtains, casting patterns against the far wall. Little flowering shadows fall on Gene's shoulder.

Her skin is damp, pasting down the hair at her temples. It's stuffy inside the room, but as she pulls herself to wakefulness she knows it's not the heat making her sweat. It's the hammering of her heart.

She's still wrapped up in Gene. His stomach is rising and falling in even intervals under her hand, and her bones hurt so she's wondering if she moved at all during the night. She can't remember moving, or screaming; she just remembers torches, and broken bottles, and suddenly her eyes were open and her vision was swimming with lacy shadows.

She takes a deep breath, and pulls away from him. Slowly, so as not to wake him. Cautiously, so the bed won't make a peep. She rolls onto her back and squints at the window. It's already bright outside, and she realizes with a curse that she must have slept in late. Bare feet touch sagging hardwood. She plucks the chemise from her dressing screen and pulls it over her head, creeping up on the window so she can have a look outside. The street is busy. It must be seven or eight o'clock already. Dagnabbit.

She's quick about dressing. She needs a bath to wash last night's stink off, so she only needs to look presentable enough to go downstairs and pay for one. And she needs to wake Gene up, or he'll be late meeting the judge and lawman. She emerges from behind the screen wearing a dress, simple white with a floral print, and lace-up heels.

"Gene."

She pulls her loose hair over one shoulder, twisting it into some order. Leaning over, she touches his shoulder.

"Gene, wake up."
ikissdhimbck: (Empty bed)
**NOTE: This is part of a plot arc that was meant to occur in Milliways over the Spring/Summer of 2011 in Bar Time. It has since become an AU, and should be treated as a standalone plot not associated with any game, and not fitting into Kate's continuity.**



It's still dark outside when Kate wakes. The room is bathed in warm lamplight from the oil that was left burning overnight, but through the window she can see the first hint of dawn.

It's not the first thing she sees. She finds herself pressed to a warm body, naked and masculine, and feels totally disoriented. For the briefest, cruelest second she believes she's with Doc, his scarred arms wrapped around her middle; and then the heat of the room registers, thick and heavy, and she's brought back to Texas.

Back to Gene.

She blinks slowly, butterfly kisses against his breast, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Her mind is trapped in a haze of sticky dreams and clutching memories, unable to shake them even as the wheels start going. She tips her head back, and watches him sleep.



It seems like hours later, but really it's only a matter of minutes when she shifts away from him. She's taking care not to wake him at first, but the moment she moves her legs — good god, is she sore.

How she manages to get out of bed without waking him is a mystery. How she manages to quietly get dressed when every inch of her feels like it's been crushed by a boulder is another honest mystery. At least he's a heavy sleeper, and by the time she's snuffed out the lamp and rid the room of every last trace of her, light is starting to turn yellow while he slumbers on.

She gets to her room without anybody noticing, but doesn't stay long. She's in desperate need of a long, hot bath. She changes clothes, uses the basin and a small chunk of soap to try and mask the smell of sex, tidies her hair and goes downstairs to see the innkeeper.
ikissdhimbck: (Empty bed)
**NOTE: This is part of a plot arc that was meant to occur in Milliways over the Spring/Summer of 2011 in Bar Time. It has since become an AU, and should be treated as a standalone plot not associated with any game, and not fitting into Kate's continuity.**



Kate doesn't sleep well. Once she gets to her room and undresses (for the last time tonight), slips on her chemise, and slides into bed (alone), she finds she can't stop playing their conversation out again and again. As she stares at the ceiling in her darkened room, driving their words so deep into her memory it'll be a while yet before she can erase them, she finds herself growing more and more agitated.

Stupid man.

Stupid drink.


Stupid her.


She wakes up later than she normally does. The light outside her window is already starting to yellow, hinting closer to seven o'clock than to six. She rises and gets dressed, mind still cranking, making sure she looks a smidgen more 'respectable' than when they first rode in. More womanly. More businesslike. And by the time she's finished she has a rehearsed speech all set in her mind. This constant arguing is pointless, and she won't do it anymore.

She steps out into the hall, catching sight of her wearied boots on worn and shabby carpeting. The rug was likely quite fine in its day, but like the knotted old wood it's trying to hide it's grown bedraggled and thin. She contemplates knocking on his door and quickly dismisses the idea. Her day doesn't hinge on whether or not Gene Hunt is happy with her.

She makes her way down to the dining room where the senorita from yesterday is cleaning shot glasses and tumblers, asks for a hot breakfast, and sits herself down at a table.

"Has my associate been down this mornin'?"

"No, ma'am. Only you."

Kate nods.

And waits.



By noon Gene still hasn't come down. She wonders if this is ordinary for him, but she's run out of reasons to linger in the bar without looking like a fool. She leaves a few coins for the barmaid, and debates whether she should go on and head out and just hope he gets the idea whenever he comes to. No. Things are mendable, ignorable, and shouldn't be left to fester simply because of their pride.

She scales the stairs and stops in front of his door, takes a breath, and resists rolling her eyes. She reminds herself that this is the last time this is going to happen. By god, this is the last time. And she knocks.

There's no answer.


She knocks again.


Perhaps he slipped out early, and no one noticed he left? She figures he wouldn't bother to tell her, especially if he's upset about last night. He could've just decided to take a look around town, or — 

Her heart sinks.


Or he could've gone back to The Bar.


She opens his door — it's unlocked, just like he said it would be — and takes a look inside.

"Gene?"

He's definitely not here. Perhaps it should be comforting to note that his bags are still in the room. It doesn't look like he bothered to pack or clean up. But he's gone, along with his coat, which leaves only two equally unhappy possibilities. He's gone back to Milliways, left, had enough of her and this; or he's out, and likely been out all night. All night with...


She rubs at her forehead. Sighs heavily. Sits on the edge of his bed and just... just sits.

Her rehearsed apology and the amendment she planned to offer suddenly feel utterly childish. She feels utterly childish, for so whole-heartedly believing she was going to set things right. For actually believing, after so many failed attempts to overcome her doubts, her worries, this  —  this curse she can't ignore despite how fervently people tell her to, that she could get it together long enough not to mess another good thing up.

She considers feeling angry. For the briefest second, she does. But then all she feels is disappointed. It was never going to be part of the deal to let him in enough for her to get hurt. She wasn't going to care when everything went to hell. And eventually it would, she knew that, and that was okay. It is okay. This all blew up in their faces, just like it was always going to. And she's still okay with it. It's fine.


Just don't mind the gnawing ache in the pit of her stomach.

Profile

ikissdhimbck: (Default)
Katherine "Kissin' Kate" Barlow

Tags

May 2024

S M T W T F S
   1234
567891011
12131415161718
1920212223 2425
262728293031 

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags