Some folks've been wonderin' what I've been up to, asides from superintending the saloon. Normally I'd avoid the dirt, but hell, a man can only go so far with his secrets:

Lana and I, we're finally getting hitched -- and with any luck we're gonna have a family soon. (Some of you may be doubting my abilities, but back when I was a ranch hand in Dubois, I helped a cow give birth to a calf...cute lil' fella it was. Wasn't so bad.)

Yep, everything's gonna be just fine, I reckon.

(Note: this scene was posted earlier, but an addition has been made so this is a re-post.)

( ((does his shirt say sex machine #1)) ((maybe it does)) )

There's been a burr in my saddle for approximately a month now, and I don't like it one bit. All you regulars at the Gust know what I'm referrin' to, I'm sure. Another saloon's in my territory and rustling away my business! The line-up across the street wrapped around the entire block on opening day! Even now whenever I look out the window, I see a dozen women waiting outside the door like they're passin' out slugs.

I'm talkin' about that stupid, sleazy, contemptible bit house across the road. I took a peek through the window a couple of weeks ago -- all while being accosted by some over-friendly fillies -- and in all my born days, I've never seen such a sight. All the patrons were women, and the servers? All men. Not just that -- all cowboys. (Or so they appear. I bet you not one of 'em's ridden horseback in his life.)

You read right. A saloon that caters exclusively to women, staffed entirely by pretty-boys in Stetsons and chaps, located right across the Gust. I've always prided on my saloon being welcoming to members of both sexes, but thanks to that bodega the Rusty Gust's slowly turning into the House of Chorizo!

I may have to have a word or two with the owner. They've picked a fight with the wrong Marshall.

Hi there! This is the Jake, Iris and Ron player reminding all the readers (and players) that I have a feedback post.

http://acehighmarshall.livejournal.com/5614.html

A lot of changes have been made to the characters in GSRP 2.5 and...well, all that needs saying, I've said in the updated version of my feedback entry. Please take a look and give me your thoughts. Thanks.

((With SilverWind a.k.a. Other Bambina temporarily playing Ema while Bee is on hiatus!))

( Jake: ((why can't big bambina be as cute as you ;_;)) )

Hi, everyone. You guys can forgive me for not writing as often as I should be, right? I just moved into my new apartment -- 3wks ago, actually -- and man, I've been totally psyched! This place is really cool (it's a bachelor pad). It's not too far away from the bar and grill, and there's a small electronics store a couple of blocks away in case I get super bored and want to browse all the latest technology. What a trip! Moving by myself didn't suck too badly, man. My car handled the load pretty well, and I don't own too much crap anyway. I hope all you cool dudes and dudettes are having a nice day! Awesome weather, huh? I am going to go out to my porch and eat a salad until my fave sports team comes on TV.

Thank you kindly for the well-wishes left in the box at the Gust. Got me a good amount of fan letters, and phone numbers that I reckon aren't for business matters.

How'd all you dogies and dogettes spend your St. Valentine's Days? I feasted on a mouth-watering porterhouse at Capone's with my charming lil' date. Your turn. Let's pretend there's a bonfire and hear some good stories.

((Happened on Valentine's Day.))

( Jake:((oh god is she going to threaten the poor waiter)) Viola: ((Maybe if he doesn't get OVER HERE AND HELP GET THIS OVER WITH)) )

Though Jake does like getting into the holiday spirit, he's hardly in the mood for romance -- not to mention he's got more important things to tend to now that he's back in Los Angeles. But just past the glass door entrance to the Rusty Gust, Kate the bartender's set up a wooden crate with dollar store cut-outs of hearts and Cupid crudely stapled onto the sides. A sheet of paper is taped above it:

Stop horsin' around - Be Our Valentine! Give the Gust a lil' love. XOXO Jake, owner Kate, manager

((Anon on, screening on; leave a note for Jake, Kate, or the Rusty Gust in general.))

Lil' bro, would I be acting too big for my breeches if I said I get the feeling you're watchin' my every move sometimes? I reckon you don't always got time to -- not if there's horseback riding in heaven. When you happen to set sight on this, send a piece of pudding my way, will ya?

When I rode back to town tonight, I stepped in a bag of nails. She's found herself another man. Edgeworth, of all folks (yeah, that Edgeworth). She insisted on me cooling my heels at her place 'til I've found a job, but the good prosecutor wanted me to high tail it outta there. That's why I'll be in this inn 'til I can get my own diggings.

...Didn't say I came back for her. Didn't tell her 'bout my hog-killin' time in Dubois and how I left it all behind to be by her side again. Knowing she's making an attempt to move on from the relationship now, I don't regret keepin' my mouth shut. Woulda had me looking like quite the fool...not to say I ain't one, don't you give me that look. I know my faults. I wavered on whether I should stay or go for so long, before I knew it, I'd gone months without writin' to her. She got her back up when she saw me, and I wasn't none too surprised.

And here I thought cowboys were supposed to get wiser with age...Lucky son of a gun you are, forever young at the handsome age of twenny-seven. I know if you were here, you'd be bootin' me in the rear and telling me to shoot for the moon, to grab 'er by the hand...

"Big bro, quit beatin' the devil around the stump and tell Miss Skye how much you love her!"

But brother, it ain't so simple. Lana and I -- we ain't the same people we were when you last saw us. Sure as hell, we ain't the same.

Somethin' to take into consideration...

I'll be talking to you again soon.

Well, I'm back. Try as I might, I can't pull away from that warm false orange glow of this polluted night sky. Mmm...hazy as ever still.

I miss anything good, compadres?

One look outside the window and I see the neighborhood's dotted with them large orange squashes, most of 'em with their own personalities. It's gettin' a mite chilly out there, too. Hallow's eve is just 'round the corner... And if I were five years old, I'd be all up in a feeze right about now, but I'm too old for trick-or-treating. It's always been one o' my favorite holidays, and I ain't ashamed to say I still enjoy every aspect it. After all, it's an entire day dedicated to scares to keep us on our toes and to prevent our youthful spirits from flickering out. Gives the younguns the opportunity to be whatever they wish to be, too. You'd have to be one stick-in-the-mud to be bellyachin' about that.

I remember it well, the first year I figured myself too old to make my annual round in costume. It also happened to be the first year I didn't accompany my baby brother on his trick-or-treating. I was twelve, he was eight; he went with his school friends and some parent that wasn't our own, and I stayed home watchin' horror specials on the TV and handin' out sweets at the door. When he returned, I regretted my decision as soon as I saw all the sweets he'd gathered. I figured it wasn't too late, so I threw together a costume with haste and went outside as the thriftiest pirate on the block. Well, my slacking paid off -- By then the streets were nearly deserted and every house I went to was eager to dump their leftovers onto me. I'd struck gold! When I was done, I had twice as many sweets as him... and bein' the older sibling, I refused to share any of it with him ('til pa knocked a bit o' common courtesy into me).

Either my brother disremembered my lack of generosity or didn't care: on the same day the next year, when I was bed-ridden from a mean case of strep throat, he gave me half his trick-or-treating haul for me to dig into once I was feelin' pert-end up. I don't think I woulda gone out for treats even if I were healthy, but he reckoned otherwise.

Yep, many fond memories attached to this one. Maybe I'll see about carvin' a pumpkin. I'm danged good with a knife, I tell you what, and I ain't had fresh roasted pumpkin seeds in forever.

Took place last Saturday.

Lana: ((so jake how am I like a football))
Jake: ((nice and firm and looks good in leather mmm))
Lana: ((....))
Jake: ((I'd carry you to the end zone and spike you hard))

( these two have got to start communicating better )

((OOC: Scene took place on September 6th))

( Ema: ((I thought they were... having pillow fights in there!)) )

Well folks, put down your wood flickers 'cause the long stretch is over: renovations are done with! The Rusty Gust's all fired up and ready to go back to business as a whole nother beast.

Cut a figure and cool your heels at The Rusty Gust Saloon & Grill, opening the first of September. That's right -- the Gust's now for fillin' up on the finest foods this side of town's got to offer 'stead of drownin' your sorrows. We got a brand new menu, some ace high cooks, and I'm stepping down as bartender so we got a new one of those, too. I'll still be there during most hours, making sure the place don't burn down from all the fire roarin' on in the kitchen.

Still open every evening and night at the same location: 1501 West Pico Boulevard. Come in and say howdy-- don't be shy now.

((The part of Neil was played by Sil, who coincidentally happens to be both my girlfriend AND my little brother!*

*Lies, all lies))

( oh the ironies )