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[OOM: Dixie's ex-husband re-appears, and he's one of Brisco's dad's murderers. They deal with it by trying to con him...and making gun puns.]

The Dixie that strolls through her door a few moments later is neatly attired in a beautiful pale peach suit and riding ensemble, complete with umbrella and gloves. She lets out a rich, deep sigh at the sight that greets her and makes a bee-line for the bar, ordering a stiff shot of brandy. She needs the extra liquid courage, anyway, and automatically starts scanning the bar in search of a friendly face who might allow her to delay her fateful journey.

Please. Distract her.

[OOC: posted for car keys but open forever.]

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She hasn't met the lady who is knitting by the fireplace before, but she gives Dixie a friendly smile and a little encouraging nod.

She certainly hasn't. Dixie gives the woman a broadening smile herself, and cocks her head in her direction. "Hello."

Conversation is good. Conversation will calm her nerves.

"Would you like to sit down?" the knitting lady offers.

Dixie smiles. "I'd love to." She moves towards the woman and sits there beside her casually. "What are you knitting?"

"A shawl," the lady says.

It's a soft pink, in a loose pattern that looks oddly like cobwebs.

"It's awfully pretty," she declares. "Looks too delicate to touch." She sits back with her drink and shrugs. "I never did take to knitting, But I can sew simple and cook well enough."

"I'm doing it to have something to do for my fingers while I think," the lady says.

"What's on your mind?" Dixie wants mental relief from her own troubles; taking on someone else's might provide a bit of relief.

"Trains and coffee, at the moment," she says.

"Are you travelling out in the morning?" It's a natural connection to make, after all, between coffee and trains.

"No, it's more about the coffee the trains are bringing," the lady says. "We haven't had trains for all that long, and things are changing. You can import much more of certain exotic merchandise than you could before. All of Überwald is suddenly mad about coffee."

"There's never a bad time for coffee," says Dix. "And am I in the presence of a businesswoman?" Like sees like sometimes, and Dixie has enormous respect for any woman who works.

"More in that of a worrier, and somebody who sees possibilities," the lady says. "With coffee so much more affordable, you get a population that's quite awake in the mornings, and enthusiastic about their own ability and prospects; but also a population that's longer awake in the evening, spending those discussing their increasingly disparate opinions rather than in drunken fights, or drunken fraternisation. We had quite a number of poets and thinkers before coffee; now, we have poets and thinkers that are on fire, or rather, on coffee. Much good can come from it, but quite a lot of bad as well."

"It sounds like you need a bouncer, honey. A statewide bouncer. And a good one." She's catching on a bit to the woman's flow of conversation. It's very intriguing.

"I don't want to stifle discussion," she says, "I simply want it in constructive channels. A state-wide bouncer would mean suppression of free thought, and a nanny state that we really don't need. People have crawled out from perpetual fear only all too recently."

Definitely a politician. "Well," she drawls, "I've found it's important to keep the channels open. It's no way to run a business, and it's no way to run a country. I bet you'll find a coffee to please every person on your side of the door, with Bar's help."

"We can get enough via the trains," she says, "and the way their brains are on fire with the stuff will eventually come in useful."

"You might just put 'em all to work. With everybody pulling their weight you'll really be cooking!"

"It might easily boil over," the lady says. "I hear that's a danger not only metaphorically, but literally, with the trains."

"I think I know a little bit about the last part myself," Dixie admits, eyes cast briefly downward. "You're right about that one; they can kill, if they jump their tracks."

"Or when the boiler explodes," the lady points out.

"Gotta avoid that, too," she adds. "If the train goes up, so does the whole business."

"And worse -- the trust in trains as such, and in the great inventions and innovations of the modern age," the lady says. "We have enough problems with machine-breakers as it is."

"That's a universal condition," Dix agrees. "I look at some of the things I've seen here and wonder how much worse it'll get when we improve on them."

"The potential for improvement seems infinite," Lady Margolotta agrees, "as does that for catastrophic escalation. That is probably the hallmark of our time."

Both her time on the Disc, and Dixie's late 19th century.

"I come from the land of the coming thing," says Dixie wryly, referencing her boyfriend in spite of herself. "Part of me can't wait to see it happen."

"Oh?" she says. "What coming thing?"

"You'll have to ask my fella about that," she says wryly. "From what I gather, it's anything that's new and shiny."

Edited (plumping up the tag a bit) 2014-10-26 04:45 (UTC)

"Is he here as well?"

"Oh yeah," Dixie smiles. "Brisco's sort of a rambler, but he does pop in and out."

There's a slight drawl to her tone; yes, she's unable to resist a pun even now.

After a while, a familiar face appears next to her, sidling up to the bar for a drink of his own. Hey, if you need a place to hide out from the world for a little while, this is as good as any.

"Hey."

Her stances loses its tension at the sound of his voice; in spite of herself, she's always happy to hear it. "Buy a scared lady a drink?"

She doesn't quite feel guilty admitting she's scared.

Edited 2014-08-22 06:27 (UTC)

And hoo boy, does that make him feel even guiltier.

"Anything you want."

He pats the bar. "It's on me."

She's never been anything but honest with him. She shrugs. "A little champagne. I don't want to lose my head."

A moderately-filled champagne flute materializes in front of them, along with Brisco's drink. Sitting beside the champagne is a small flower.

"Thanks."

She takes it and sips it very slowly, savoring the flavor. "Everything still going as planned, Kansas?"

No matter what she'll always enjoy calling him by that name.

He can't help smiling a little at that.

"So far, yeah."

She lifts her shoulders. "As long as we rope him," she drawls. "But Doc was always hard to tie down."

He leans a bit closer - if she wants some more physical contact, he's there.

"We will."

He's not going to let her go through all this for nothing.

Physical contact is nice - especially when they're in public. It's nice to feel like she matters and he's not ashamed of her. "And don't you get yourself shot doing it," she demands, poking his arm. She needs that extra layer of sarcasm to protect herself.

He has not and never will be ashamed of her.

"I'll do my best not to."

It's not like he tries to put himself in danger. It just... happens. A lot. He wants to tell her to stay safe herself, but he knows she knows.

Darn tooting he's not. If he were she wouldn't be here.

"Good. Can't have fun with you if you're in pieces."

"Well you know I'm all about the fun," he teases. Definitely both have to stay in one piece for that.

"Mm. It's been a long time since we've had some of that." Again: he never has to knock with her.

He nods. It has been far too long, in his opinion.

"You know we can stay here as long as we need to and it'll still be the same time when we go back."

That's only an invitation to something if she wants it to be.

"I know," she says, smoothing back a lock of his hair. "It's be nice to shut out the world, but..."

They both know they can't, not for very long. It'd be best to take whatever joy they can now and glory in it.

"I know. We can't stay here forever."

... Well, technically they could. But they shouldn't.

She gives him a bittersweet smirk. "I've heard the song, Brisco. You've gotta get Bly, and I've got to spread my wings and fly. You can...throw in some new notes any time you're willing."

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