[Center][b][color=ec008c]Shelby Jackson – Drinkin’ on the roof of S&W Weaponry [/color][/b][/center]


Waylon moved the beach chair next to Shelby’s; she had carried two chairs and an umbrella up to the roof from the beach and cleaned them up. She frequented the roof to reflect on her life, both past and present. Plus it was a safe spot to try to get a tan, something she never really got the chance to do when she was with Calypso. It was her place of Zen, leaving the day’s work downstairs and just plain time to herself. She had an ammo box full of letters she had wrote to various people, her parents, Eliza, Calypso and several other influential people she had encountered in her life, good or bad. She also had a punching bag, several targets along with other exercise pieces she had collected since arriving in town.

“So, you still have those throwing knives up here?” asked Waylon.

“Yeah…why?” She got up and opened up a lunchbox, inside sat four throwing knives she had forged, perfectly balanced.

“Let’s see who is better?” Waylon picked two knives from the box and walked over to Shelby’s practice area.

“You already know I’m better,” she folded her arms and stood smugly.

“We’ll see brat, we’ll see,” Waylon flipped one in his hand and threw it, stumbling slightly and barely hit the target backdrop. “Just a warm up.”

Shelby raised her brow, “Best warm up quick then,” she took a knife and drilled just a couple inches from the bullseye, “HA!!” She took a pull from the whiskey bottle, while tipping the bottle she threw her second knife, hitting the outside edge of the target.

“Show off,” Waylon waved her off, he threw his second knife and it sailed past the target completely, skipping off the rooftop, nearly bouncing over the ledge.

“DAMMIT WAYLON,” she walked over and picked up the knife, “Stick to your pea shooters, leave the blades to a pro.” Shelby walked to where Waylon was standing; she looked at him then to the target, throwing the knife hitting the bullseye this time. She raised her brow again, “Not on your best day boy.”

Waylon burst out in laughter, “While you were napping I had a few, this is my second pint. My last pint too, I need to grab some more.” Shelby snatched the pint from Waylon and guzzled the last third of it down. “SHELBY, YOU BITCH!!!”

She tossed him the empty bottle, “Guess ya better get going Mr. Miss-a-lot.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll go grab another bottle I guess, you want to go?”

“No way, I don’t know if that mutant is still there with that twit,” Shelby sat down and crossing her legs, “Have fun, grab me a pint too.” She waited until she couldn’t see Waylon anymore and made her way over to the ledge of the building and waited until she saw him down on street. She spit down at him, just missing he looked up and she waved and giggled.

Waylon shook his head and yelled, “Shelby, what the fuck am I going to do with you?” She just laughed and shrugged her shoulders.