I heard a song not to long ago, and it sounded so much like what I wanted to make this feel like, I just had to share it. To paraphrase Nickelback's If Everyone Cared :

From underneath the trees, we watch the sky

Confusing stars for satellites

I never dreamed that you’d be mine

But here we are, we’re here tonight

Singing Amen, I’m alive

Singing Amen, I’m alive

And in the air, the Fireflys

Our only light in paradise

We’ll show the 'Verse that they were wrong

And teach them all to sing along

Singing Amen I’m alive

Singing Amen I’m alive

And as we lie beneath the stars

We realize how small we are

If they could live like you and me

Imagine what the 'Verse could be

Screamin' Amen, I'm alive

Feedback is as always wanted. Enjoy.

Legacy of Loss

Beaumonde smelled as it always did, of smoke and iron and sweat. He took a deep breath and let it settle deep into his lungs before puffing it back out and giving the city a taste of himself. It was a city that'd eat a fellow whole, given a lick of chance, and he was in for far more than a lick.

He looked up at the name of the bar. Yup, it was there, the Maidenhead, just like he'd been told. He was still feeling particularly good about himself when Fanty and Mingo called sent out the wave that they were looking for some help in business. He had only to look at the first room of the establishment to realize what sort of business it was like to be. The man at the cylinder demanded he lock up his guns, to which Greyson merely laughed and tapped his sleeves. It was the universal sign for 'I ain't got weapons, y'idjit', and the shaven-headed fellow simply shook his head. Probably thinkin' poorly of this fellow with the scar down his face. He'd decided to leave his gun on the ship when he almost ricochetted a bullet into Friday's brainpan.

He moved down the curving stairway into the bustle and smell of the barroom proper. The leg-show was in full swing, with three pairs cavorting in the window not far from the bar, where he picked up