Eri,

Heading out of the bar for a while. Try not to trash the room too bad while I'm gone. I don't know if you need it, but here's a key to the room.

Sawyer

Enclosed is a small silver key.

Sawyer spent a very long time this morning watching Claire sleep and thinking about the past couple of weeks. About how she stayed with him the entire time he was sick. About how she'd gone out of her way to make his birthday special based solely on a comment or two he'd made a couple of months ago ( Read more... )

Sawyer walks into the office flanked by two of Durand's men. In his hand is the briefcase he'd left with, returning twice as heavy. He sets it on the desk and smiles. "There you go, chief. A little over five hundred grand ( Read more... )

Sawyer sits in the restaurant waiting for her to arrive. This is their fifth dinner date in the past three weeks, and Evelyn is ready to run away and marry him ( Read more... )

Sawyer sits at the bar watching the men and women around him chat. The party is invitation-only, but he'd managed to find a way in. He always does.

The bartender is a chatty old fellow who apparently has worked these parties for years. "That guy over there, he's Theodore Millens. He made millions selling candy, of all things. And those two, ( Read more... )

Sang Rouge Winery sits on one of the less-traveled streets of New Orleans. Pretty much the only people who know it exists are real wine enthusiasts... and folks who are more concerned with the business that takes place in the office upstairs. It's into that office that Sawyer walks now ( Read more... )

This isn't his world, so this isn't the Karnes he knew... but he's similar enough to the lowlife from Sawyer's world to make it work. He's still a junkie who can't remember half the time if he actually knows you or not. He still wears those ugly-ass polyester suits ("They're vintage, man!") anytime he's out making a deal ( Read more... )

A faceless man dancing with Sawyer's mother -- no, James' mother. Hole in her head.
Then drowned in desire, our souls on fire
Blood on her face.
I lead the way to the funeral pyre
Blood everywhere.
And without a thought of the consequence
Sawyer dancing with Claire. They look remarkably similar, don't you think?
I gave in to my decadenceSo ( Read more... )

Sawyer's walking down the hall to his room, his newly-acquired tube of lotion in his crusty, green right hand. He has to stop after every couple of doors to rest, catch his breath. It's during one of these stops that he realizes that his skin isn't just crusty ( Read more... )

He sits outside by the lake, flipping an old battered fifty-cent piece.

Flip. Flip.

You don't see them much anymore. It's a good coin for flipping, though, which is why he's hung on to it for so long.

His mind keeps drifting back to the previous night, and the card game. And particularly to how easy it had been. Just a little time, a ( Read more... )