―――― "Thank you, thank you very much my dear friends," her honey-sweet voice rang out over the room and the last smattering of some applause from the crowd, the woman's wide blue eyes bright, matching a red-lipped smile that softened the edges of her faces. Rhia was fairly popular at this particular speakeasy, though whether or not that was for her voice or for her looks she had no idea; or, perhaps, some people like the 'exotic' aspect of witnessing a blind singer. But, they paid her well in tips and compliments, and despite the occasional drunken creep, she had little that bothered her. Unlike many other places, the owner of this one actually had some faint level of respect for its performers. "I have just one more for you this fine evening, if you'll indulge me." A smile lept to her face at another round of faint applause and cheers from those still lingering within the bar, flashing another smile as she dipped her head, taking in a small breath as the small band behind her began to start up again, soon beginning the first sweet notes of a popular love song.
"I'll be loving you always
With a love that's true always.
When the things you've planned
Need a helping hand,
I will understand always..."

With a flash of a smile to some of those she could hear loitering around the edges of the stage, based on their chattering or the clinking of glasses, she sung her way easily through the last song

Charlie frequented the local speakeasies quite often, only because he knew that he could and that he had easy access to them. Places across the city would put a bullet in his head the moment he showed his face in their establishments, but in this part of town, he ran things. Well, maybe not just him, but he was apart of the, er, "ownership" of this particular place. In fact, a lot of local businesses were under his control, and most times he felt like a king. It was all business, really, but perhaps this kind of treatment was as royal as it could get.

The man, clad in a gray pinstripe suit and two-tone shoes, sat at one of the tables closest to the stage. His brown hair was slicked back against his head, a slow-burning cigarette nestled in between his fingers, dark eyes observing the performance. He had watched a lot of entertainers, especially alluring women, waltz upon the stage and do a mediocre cover of a popular tune, but this? This was definitely a sight he hadn't seen before. A blind woman, phenomenal in grace as well as chords. He couldn't believe that he had been sitting there, mesmerized for nearly an hour. He had never seen her perform before, so hopefully she would become a local star in these parts.

Charlie issued an applause after her song had concluded, his gaze tracing her movements as she exited the stage. It had sure been brave of her to put herself out here in the public eye, especially when most were rather particular about societal roles and such. She had just defeated the stereotypes of "disabled persons", and the audience loved every bit of it.

―――― A warm, bright smile graced the woman's lips as her song came to a close and the applause began once more, briefly pausing as she shifted her feet behind her in a sort of playful half-curtsy as she bowed her head, "Enjoy the rest of your evening, everyone," she would speak easily, knowing there were likely still a few that stared upon her. For a moment, a singular moment she remained on stage, quickly thanking the band that had put in their time and effort to accompany the performers like her, before she turned and carefully retraced her steps to the edge of the stage platform, her toe pausing before the step before she made her way down carefully. Her dress lightly swayed as she moved, and her chocolate curls, put up into a neat little braided updo. Her steps were momentarily confident as she made her way back out into the main room and towards the door, but she stuck close to the wall, a pinpoint marker to avoid bumping into others or tables.

As far as the stereotypes of "disabled" persons, perhaps for a few moments she did defeat the stereotype; her voice had mesmerized the people of the crowd, and for those few fleeting moments, she had been something other than a blind face in the crowd. There were whispers, of course- Charlie would be correct in that assessment. In this era, disabilities of any sort were thought as wrong, or contagious in some capacity. Not all were bad, of course, but there were always a few, a few that were unshakable human beings, who wouldn't, or couldn't accept that people were different.

Unfortunately for Rhiannon, if you put those type of people together, along with copicous amounts of technically-now-illegal alcohol, it wasn't going to end well. "Hey, Sweetheart!" a slurred voice called, and for a moment Rhiannon continued on, assuming the voice to be for someone else. But as a hand reached out to grab her arm, she stopped short and pulled herself back quickly, "Excuse me, sir!" she would chime quickly, indignantly, as if he had been some kind of mistake. "Oh come on, don't you want to come have some fun?" the voice returned, followed by a low chuckling of a few of his other tipsy-friends, who looked like they too were struggling to stay upright. "I really must be getting home. Though I hope you enjoyed the show, and enjoy the rest of your nights," she answered promptly, flashing a smile before she hastened her pace towards the door. For a moment, it worked, moving quick enough to turn herself out of the doorframe and into the cold air of the late evening- or perhaps early morning- sky. She only made it a few steps out the door before she heard them again, "Hey! Where do you think you're going?" the voices yelled, and though Rhiannon could not see them, nor nothing else in front of her since there was no light to give her any indication of placement, it was all she could do to try and quicken her pace. The footsteps, however, followed, insistantly pounding the pavement behind her until she felt fingrs curl around her arm and pull her to a stop, instantly bringing herself to fight the grip that the stranger now had on her, "Hey! Let me go! What do you think you're doing?" She felt hands going for the pockets of her dress- wait, was she seriously being mugged right now? Sure, she had money on her, and sure, they had probably seen it- but seriously!? Her grip struggled, both perplexed as well as afraid, but the drunken man had an iron grip on her arm, "Y'could least give me a refund, you Ingrateful blind bat!" the man continued to slur, while late-night passerbys ducked their heads and moved quicker, nothing more than muted footsteps around Rhiannon.

The performer had fully exited the building, and Charlie realized that he really should have been going. As much as he could very well stay out past normal hours of the night, he had a meeting early tomorrow with his uncle in town and he didn't want to risk buying more drinks and suffering a hangover in the morning. So, the man donned his fedora and weaved through the crowd, making his way outside and into the crisp, night air. Winter was knocking on the door, that was for sure.

A few unpleasant voices had disturbed his aurals, and Charlie's attention was suddenly directed to the commotion. There was a plethora of criminal activity occurring every night on these streets, considering that the police couldn't possibly keep every single corner of the city in check. Charlie could have just minded his own business and walked the other way, but the exclamation from the unknown woman had only intrigued him even more. Not that he was a crimfighter — ironically, the feds would have loved to put him behind bars.

The Italian man poked his head from around the corner, peering forward at the dimly lit — scene of a mugging?! It was the blind performer who had just concluded her show, being cornered and roughed up by a circle of drunkards. A frown tugged down on the corners of his lips, his bushy eyebrows creasing over narrowed visionaries, and he quickly stormed over towards the man who had been constraining her. The young businessman felt an rage-filled, animalistic instinct i g n i t e within him, a spark he had possessed even spanning back to the days of his youth. When he would take out his pent-up frustrations and hatred out on kids in the schoolyard, when he would shove weaker and younger children to the ground and take their money. Except, now, he was warding off a couple of drunk fucks. It was all the same — except he had traded in a dirty newsboy cap and rags for a suit and tie.

He tugged him closer with one grip and with the other sent his balled-up fist straight into his left jaw, leaving him stumbling back in utter confusion ( and, in turn, releasing Rhiannon from his clutches ). "Whoa, hey!" One of them yelled as Charlie suddenly intervened. He was going to go after him once more when another goon hit him in the gut. He nearly lost his balance, and in the midst of the chaos, Charlie drew his revolver, his aim scanning over the whole group. "Watch where yer' pointin' that thing..!" Next, a threat: [glow=black,1,400]"All of yous betta' beat it before I put slugs in ya' heads."[/glow] "And then you'll all end up at the bottom of the harbor tied to cement blocks." It was not uncommon for a man to be equipped with a firearm, especially in this part of town, but these idiots had no idea on what Lucky could do to them should he catch them making trouble again.

That had been enough to ward them off. Charlie breathed heavily, still trying to recover from nearly getting the wind knocked out from him. He tucked his gun into the inside of his coat and turned to Rhiannon, a wispy stream of hot air expelling from his nostrils and into the cold atmosphere. [glow=black,1,400]"You alright?"[/glow] Asked he.

―――― Rhiannon's arm twisted in the man's grip, and she didn't want to imagine the bruises that would be upon it tomorrow once the man was gone. Alcohol had intoxicated his system and his grip was tighter than it perhaps needed to. Her mind whirled, plans trying and failing to form in her mind in the few seconds she had to consider them, but all she knew that she was simply in a very bad situation. She couldn't fight the men off with physical strength, not when they were already drunk and less likely to feel any punch she did throw at them, and if she did manage to get away, she couldn't run very far without them catching up, or her getting hit by some sort of automobile in the street. "If you want your money back, just let me go!" She needed the money, of course she did, but no amount of money was worth her life, not when she was alone on the dark streets of the city.

Just as quickly, she felt a new weight tug on her arm and steps quickly shuffling in, the man pulled away from her and allowing her to stumble a step back and draw her arm towards her chest, her blinded gaze now struggling, flickering with the faint movements of her head as if she were desperatly trying to see what was occuring. The exclamations of the men, and a few punches were heard by her, which both sent a spark of relief and fear running down her spine like a cold chill, but she was frozen. She still couldn't run, for she didn't have the context for who had stepped in and why- was it one of the other men, who wanted her money for themselves? The chaos rose, however, and another step back was taken to distance herself from the fray as the voices became more frantic. Watch where you're pointing that thing!" A gun?! There were weapons involved with this now?! Gods above, she was going to die, wasn't she?!

A new voice joined in, one that briefly made her htoughts disappear as she tensed. There was a savior for her, one who was now threatening to put slugs in all of these men's heads, making them scatter like feral cats scared by a street light, her mind whirling. God, how she hated being blind sometimes, how she hated not being able to understand what was occuring right in front of her face! Her hands were shaking without realizing, the situation sparking against her nerves and her adrenaline despite her managing to relatively keep her composure. The footsteps retreated into the night, yet the breathing of one still remained, making her slowly straighten up as the man brought himself to speak. Was she alright? Was she really? "Yes, all thanks to you," she offered with a mild smile, her hands slowly moving after a thought towards her pockets, pulling free her small little coin purse with a slightly relieved sigh. Good. She would eat tonight. Her sister would eat tonight. "You... Could have walked by like anyone else but you didn't so... Thank you. I'm not sure what would have happened to me if you had not. Are you alright?" She shifted on her feet slowly, realizing now that her sense of direction had been lost. The streets were more quiet, too, given the hour; no usual hum of car engines to pinpoint the roadside from the streetside, and any light sources were lost now in the midst of the night for her vision. Honestly, she was about to give up and just go find a room in the speakeasy and stay there until the morning- the owner had always been nice enough and she was sure it wouldn't have been an issue to take up one of the private rooms- but she knew if she did, her mother would be utterly frantic by the time the sun rose, if she was even home. The thing is, when you were broke and poor, the jobs you got weren't exactly the ones most people wanted. And with how early it already was, she probably wouldn't be seeing her mother again until that evening.. The ideas lingered in her head a moment before she inwardly sighed, "Sorry, I hate to ask this of you, which way is it now towards Main Boulevard? And erm.. Are they really gone now?"