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Post by The Storyteller on Sept 24, 2015 0:22:09 GMT
About a quarter mile from town, on a field by the river. Everyone is at least stopping in to see the contests and cut loose a bit.
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Post by Everett Chancey on Sept 24, 2015 1:52:35 GMT
Everett made his way to the fairgrounds, eager for all the fun his remaining $2 could buy him.
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Post by Caesar S. Ballentine on Sept 24, 2015 8:03:13 GMT
Ceaser, new to town and wanting to get a lay of the land, decides to check out this festival and see what kind of locals make up the town of Jackson.
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Post by The Storyteller on Sept 24, 2015 11:25:04 GMT
There's certainly an odd collection of characters. Miners and gamblers and a few socialites and ministers and farmers all are about. There are horse races, gun skill displays, skeet shooting, ladies of the night and supposedly that first night there will even be a fireworks display. Cash prizes will exist for the guns and horses and vendors are out and about, trying to break Miss O'Dempsey's general merchandise stranglehold. There's also poker games under the big festival tent, and activities for the few dozen children in town.
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Ambrose Main
Junior Member
former Lieutenant in the Confederate Army
Posts: 58
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Post by Ambrose Main on Sept 24, 2015 11:27:39 GMT
Ambrose Main stopped by to take a look at the fairground. He went down to take a look at the horse-racing and maybe lay a bet.
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Post by The Storyteller on Sept 24, 2015 11:32:09 GMT
The woman taking bets looks to Ambrose. "Eight horses per race, a dollar a bet. Can run any pick scheme you'd like." She shows him a paper with all sorts of ways to bet. "Perfecta, across the board, quinella, pick six, anything you want we can accomodate."
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Post by Frank Jackson on Sept 24, 2015 11:36:16 GMT
Everett made his way to the fairgrounds, eager for all the fun his remaining $2 could buy him. As he looks about Frank approaches the man, wanting to get familiar with the gunslingers in the area. "Quite the bustling little town here," he said by way of greeting, his voice quiet and even.
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Ambrose Main
Junior Member
former Lieutenant in the Confederate Army
Posts: 58
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Post by Ambrose Main on Sept 24, 2015 11:45:36 GMT
The woman taking bets looks to Ambrose. "Eight horses per race, a dollar a bet. Can run any pick scheme you'd like." She shows him a paper with all sorts of ways to bet. "Perfecta, across the board, quinella, pick six, anything you want we can accomodate." Ambrose glanced at the paper for the moment. A dollar per bet was steep . "What's the reputation of the riders? Are they any good?" He eyed the woman from under the brim of his hat and smiled grimly.
"What I'm asking, are they as good as me?"
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Post by The Storyteller on Sept 24, 2015 11:58:42 GMT
"You wanna race? That's a different story. I'd put my money on Johnathan Gilliam or Edward West. But that's just me," she said.
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Post by Sergei Dmitry Ivanov on Sept 24, 2015 12:04:07 GMT
Sergei strolled through the fair, he greeted every passerby with a fond smile. Leaving the Babushka was easier than he had explained to Gary, you see, you don't actually need two cooks, people are there just to drink... The only thing is not to put the russian one in the bar, first he won't be able to speak to the costumers, and second, he'll drink everything himself before you come back.
They had set up a little stall in the festival, selling drinks for the joyous people of Jackson, nothing different from their usual business. Serget had left Isaak Belikov in charge of the sales over there, while his brother kept and eye at the gambling tables back in the saloon.
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Ambrose Main
Junior Member
former Lieutenant in the Confederate Army
Posts: 58
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Post by Ambrose Main on Sept 24, 2015 12:08:49 GMT
"West and Gilliam." mused Ambrose to one in particular. He studied the woman for a moment before saying. "I reckon I'd take it up to 'em." He chewed the twig that hung out of his mouth. "Name's Main. Ambrose Main."
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Post by The Storyteller on Sept 24, 2015 12:14:34 GMT
"Well, mister Ambrose Main, you want to compete you can't bet, but an unnamed benefactor is paying the entry fees for everyone."
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Ambrose Main
Junior Member
former Lieutenant in the Confederate Army
Posts: 58
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Post by Ambrose Main on Sept 24, 2015 12:39:53 GMT
"And prize-money?" he asked.
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Post by Everett Chancey on Sept 24, 2015 13:53:56 GMT
As he looks about Frank approaches the man, wanting to get familiar with the gunslingers in the area. "Quite the bustling little town here," he said by way of greeting, his voice quiet and even. Everett moseys on down to the gun skill display, knowing that was the best chance for him to win a bit of spending money. He'd sign up for the horse race and skeet shooting as well. He had a new shotgun to test out, after all. His hand lingered instinctively near the walnut grip of one of his colts as the newcomer addressed him, the southern outlaw understandably not overly fond of strangers. "Yep." was his laconic reply. "What was your name again?"
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Post by The Storyteller on Sept 24, 2015 15:35:33 GMT
"And prize-money?" he asked. "Eight horses a run, top three gets you in the money," she said. "Three shares for first, two for second, one for third. I think every share has been twenty dollars."
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