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[Wasted]

WEST OF WEIRD

-THE BEGINNING IS JUST ABOUT TO END-

 

“The undertaker raises no hand, but I’ll fear him just the same. His presence for tells both blood and death yet he shoulders not the blame. Like the shadow of the vultures circling blackly overhead. The Undertaker is drawn to death like the knife is drawn to red.”- Sons of Perdition

 

----

Something dark

Backwater dozed in the afternoon heat, its occupants staying cool in the shade, napping through the hottest part of the day. Nat was running to the general store to pick up some salt and butter when he heard the croaking of a crow from the low roof of the Jefferson place. He stopped in his tracks to glare at it, cocking his head to check if there was anything Weird about it first. The crow looked rather scrawny really, with unkempt feathers that were askew in many places. It hopped to and fro restlessly, cocking its head and squawking at Nat.

Satisfied that it probably wouldn't start spitting fire at him and it was just an ordinary crow Nat crouched down to scoop up a rock. His da had taught him that crows were bad luck and it was best to chase them off before they settled in. They were just scavengers after all. Nothing good comes from crows. Nat hurled his rock at the crow causing it jump up from its perch in a startle of flapping and lost feathers. Instead of being scared off however it settled back down and three more crows flew in to join it. And then ten more. And then the entire roof was covered in crows regarding him steadily. Looking around him Nat was horrified to see that all the town roofs were blanketed in crows.

Nat scrambled back and ran shouting, "Undertaker's crows! He's coming! Undertakers on his way!"

The town burst into motion with everyone running out to take in the sight of the crows glaring down at them. Some broke down in tears while others ran around frantically trying to gather up their families. Some even began packing their things and started saddling their iron horses, planning to flee the town that had been their home for so long. In the cacophony that had resulted from the news Jesse Alwyn almost didn't hear it.

"Shut it!" he screamed at the milling crowd who came to a startled silence, "Anyone else hear that?"

The townsfolk quietened to listen. In silence of even the crows remaining absolutely still they could hear a quiet creaking sound that somehow managed to carry throughout the town. Out over the horizon they saw a dark shape emerge, stretching its shadow towards the town. Like a cloud passing over the sun dark wings suddenly shot out of the shadow, embracing the town, vanishing in the next second.

"He's here," someone whispered despairingly. Everyone retreated into the buildings as on old man on a bicycle pedaled into town. Dressed from head to toe in a somber black his withered features betrayed no emotion as he took in the frightened folk from behind his opaque glasses. Keeping whatever judgement he had made to himself he turned his attention away from the people of the town to dismount his bike and lean it against the side of the courthouse. Carefully he extracted his umbrella and walked slowly over to one of the stools that had been set out near the saloon to sit down. From his perch he and his flock regarded the townsfolk silently.

The next few days consisted of the townsfolk railing at him, demanding to know who he was here for, but getting no answer from the implacable Undertaker. About half the town left while the others boarded their windows and stayed indoors, waiting for the death they knew would come soon. The question they were all asking however was "who was he here for?" and dreading that they were the answer to that question.

After four days had passed the townsfolk could take it no longer. They gathered outside to confront The Undertaker. One man, Thom Erikson, strode forward with his rifle held up and cocked.

"You just like any man Undertaker! We ain't gotta fear you. You can die just like any man!"

He shouldered the rifle and took aim. As his finger squeezed the trigger however a sudden furious flapping of darkness rushed by as the crows knocked the rifle up and away from their master. The gun went off and someone dropped to the ground. A man was screaming next to his wife's prone body. Another gun was drawn. Another gunshot. And then another. The town square suddenly became a roar of battle as neighbor turned on neighbor.

The frenzy lasted all of a minute before Sandra the Goodwife waded into the fray with a frying pan laying about with her Weird infused strength and yelling at them to come to their senses. After being beaten into submission the remaining townsfolk lay panting in the bloody aftermath. It had all happened in an instant, but nine townsfolk lay dead. They knew so because The Undertaker had finally moved to stand up and was counting off the dead bodies with one crooked finger.

The Goodwife stormed into one of the nearby houses and emerged moments later with a burlap sack which she tossed to The Undertaker in contempt. After inspecting its contents The Undertaker set to work burying the bodies and only after he was done did he open the bag to remove the Lightstones inside. He rolled them in his hands as if savoring the moment before swallowing each and every one in quick succession. Satisfied he turned his head and sniffed, scanning the horizon. Eventually he settled on a direction, mounted his bike and set off West.

 

Something Ominous

 

The last tremor was strong enough that it shook the dust from the roof beams in the Blue Moon Saloon. The patrons glanced up with worried expressions before turning back to stare at their reflections in their cups. The rumbling had started some time before noon and had been on going since, approximately one tremor per hour. It was damn unsettling and the whole of Marsha's Plateau was on edge.

 

"We're gonna have to check it out eventually." Barnes muttered into his cup.

 

The fissure had opened about a week ago, but none of the townspeople had made much of it as it hadn't been all that large at first, barely longer than two iron horses tail-to-nose. Now however it ran down the entire main road, splitting the town in two. That had been where the rumbling had started.

 

"I ain't goin' down there. There's a Weird stink about it."

 

"What then? Sitting here waiting for it to swallow the whole town any better?"

 

"Enough!" Lambert, the mayor stood up slamming his mug down, "We ain't gonna sit by and let the Weird take our homes right from under us. I'm going down with anyone brave enough to check it out. I'll pay well for each gun that comes along."

 

He turned to regard a cloaked duo that were seated in the corner and had been minding their own business till now.

 

"What of you Rangers? Will you do your duty?"

 

The man at the table looked up, but shook his head apologetically.

 

"Sorry mayor, but we can't pursue anything else till we bring in the gang hiding out below in the Wastes. Court orders. Pretty hefty bounty as well if anyone's interested in riding along."

Spoiler

Alright so you guys have two choices. Descend into the fissure and seek out the source of the Weird or to ride along with the rangers to go collect the bounty. Since we're a small group the two groups (if you guys split up) will probably reunite again pretty quickly. Also you can treat this as an introduction post and converse with your fellow patrons.

 

 

[Diabolical Rhapsody]

Melanthe

 

[One Month before] - The Letter

 

Melanie woke up in cold sweat. Her breath jagged and tears flowing like a stream. The same nightmare of 15 years was haunting her again. Even after she had put anyone and everyone related to the 'Bloody Thorn' six feet under, her nightmares hadn't stopped. She relived that horror each night, crying in her sleep, frozen cold emotionally even in sweltering heat of the summers. Wiping her forehead and composing herself with deep breaths, she picked up the crystal glass on the side table. Still filled with some of the caramel colored poison she had gotten used to. Her father and even her godfather had always decried alcohol and in a way she was letting them down. But the pain was unbearable, her visions didn't seem to end, she was even incapable of sleeping on a bed.

 

Laboringly getting up from the rocking chair she moved towards the study table and opened the night lamp. There on the rosewood table lay an opal white envelope with just her name on the front and a small gold embossed logo at the back. Two pistols pointing towards each other and the initials W.A.S between them. She knew what it meant. With a little sigh she opened the envelope carefully, gently easing a thick hand made rich paper out of it. There was a message for her, from the son of her godfather Dwayne Wade.

 

Written in obsidian ink, as black as her hair, it was a piece of art. Each word crafted with flawless technique and beautiful flow, it was as if watching a calm river's meander from atop a hill. 'William had certainly grown well' she thought as she began reading.

 

     Dear Melanie,

     

It has been Ten years and you haven't visited me even once. Although I know that I was to contact you for emergencies, I apologize in advance as this is not a standard emergency, or at least not as you meant. I  write to inform you that i am finally getting married, I found a beautiful Irish girl, Matilda, and we fell in love.

     

Because you are the only one closest to what I have as family, It is my earnest wish that you please attend my ceremony. Even though we share no blood, I have always seen you as an elder sister and although you never found me worthy, I want you to share my happiness.

    

I have refurbished the shop with Matilda's help and the business is going well, I have still kept the things the way you left. I hope what I ask is not impossible for you, your blessings and wishes will surely be the most desired.

     

     Love,

     William

     

     PS: I beg you to come. That is the only gift I desire from you.

      

A tear rolled down her cheek, this time of happiness. William had certainly grown into a fine young man, showering love on her even when she did nothing for him intentionally. Sipping on to the cognac she held, she glided over to her rocking chair and closed her eyes. Unexpectedly, she was much calmer now and the news had lifted her somber spirit. The calm desert breeze flowing in through the slits in the window gently rubbing her torso, calmly dancing up and down her slender lithe body, caressing her full supple breasts, gently bringing sleep back into her eyes as she relaxed. Her taste in fashion was a bit bland but she had to make a good first impression on her would be sister-in-law, now that she realised of her sibling duty. It will be a long travel to Newtown but she still had a detour to make. Although William says her presence is gift enough, it would be rude to go empty handed. She didn't know if he too took her bad habit so she would give her the best gift she can imagine. A custom made gun. The town of Wellbring had just the place for her to stop by and work on it.

 

--

[28 Days before] - The Gift

 

She rode into Wellbring on Black Rose, slowly wading through the town towards Gliding Eagle Saloon. Tying up her horse, she went inside straight towards the counter.

 

“Have a place for me Jack?” she said to the barkeeper, a brawny man with a fantastic mustache and broad build. He smiled at her and said in his heavy voice “Always. Go through the back, Erica would be delighted to have you.” .

Melanie gave him a flying kiss and wafted through the back door, into the house. Erica, Jack’s wife was busy in the backyard with laundry, Melanie walking silently up to her stopped at a distance and said “Surprise!, Surprise!”. Erica turned around astonished and then moment later jumped her like a cute dog waiting for his master. Holding her in a tight hug.

 

“How long are you here to stay?” she asked her breathlessly. “Not long. Maybe a few days, you see William is getting married.” she said calmly. Erica loosened her embrace to look at Melanie, happiness lighting her beautiful blue eyes. “At last someone manages to bring a smile for you. Bless that boy” Erica said. “Yeah. He even begged me to make sure I attend regardless of whatever I am doing, saying I am his elder sister. ” she said in her trademark calmness a hint of happiness coloring her features.

 

“I want to know if the forge is still functional, you see I’ll craft him a personal present.” she continued. Erica looked at her with a raised eyebrow and then led her by the hand towards a small room attached at the back of the house. “Here you go! All yours. But visit us more often, okay?” she said feigning anger before bursting in a giggle and walking back to her task. And, so Melanie set to crafting a handgun for William.

 

Ten days of working and catching up on the few years she was apart from the Blacks, she was finally ready to head out for the marriage. Erica had also helped her shop for a nice dress for her would be sister-in-law. Thus packing her things she set out for Newtown.

 

[15 Days before] - Meeting the Bride

 

She rode into Newtown at early dusk, in her eagerness she had travelled the last night and she was exhausted now. Yet excited to meet his supposed brother. She slowly rode through the town towards the Wade’s Estate. Stopping in town for a moment to admire the refurbished shop. The estate was decorated beautifully, with even the great dead pines near the border been decorated. She slowly rode through the dusty pathway up to the estate, a massive white structure, decorated nicely. She got off the horse and walked up to the door. Knocking it a few times. The marriage was still a few days away. There was sound of rushed steps and then the door gently opened, the form of a demure young woman coming in to view.

 

“Uhmm...William Wade.” Melanie asked a bit hesitant. The young girl was certainly not dressed as a maid nor did her body language announced that fact.

 

“And you are?” asked the girl. Her voice confident and respectful.

 

“Tell him Melanie wishes to see him.” Melanie spoke in her hesitant tone, still trying to figure out the identity of the young girl. On mention of her name, the girl’s eyes lit up.

 

“Mellanie!!, Mellanie Hellbore?” she asked with excitement of a 5 year-old signalling the young girl knew her as well. All she had time for was a nod and the girl threw herself at her in a bear hug. Causing her to step back due to sudden force.

 

She embraced her and patted her back. “William will be so happy.” she said with a distinct joy in her voice as her face buried in her bosom. “You must be Matilda, I concur”‘ Melanie said with a brief pause as she eased herself out of the  embrace. The girl nodded quickly.

 

“Well shall we” Melanie pointed towards the house signalling that they go in together. The girl nodded again and putting her arm around hers walked inside with a spring in her steps. Moments later William did the same routine but Melanie was prepared this time and the hug was more balanced.

 

“I am so gla….” William began as Melanie shushed him with a finger on his lips.

 

“No need to be, I haven’t been a model sister” she said in a low tone. “But I’ll try better from now.” she flashed a smile.

 

“But first, I have something for both of you.” she said with a mischievous smile on her face. Her amber eyes lighting up sensing the excitement in the two kids. She opened Coffin and took out two black boxes of different lengths and shape.

 

“For you” she said to Matilda as she passed her the bigger box. “Pardon my taste if it doesn't match yours” she said calmly. Matilda’s expression was timeless, overtaken by sheer excitement, she patiently yet hurriedly opened the box. It had an azure colored gown with beautiful flowers embroidered around the neck, it was subtle and classy. Tears of joy rimmed her eyes as she hugged and kissed Melanie again and again.

 

“Now for my young brother! ” she said teasing. A broad smile on her face. “A gift from me and your father’s skill” she said as she handed him a small box, covered in rich black velvet. Opening it revealed her hard work of ten days, a beautiful and exquisitely crafted hand gun, nickel plated barrel with pearl white handle bar. The name Matilda etched on one side and the words ‘Robur Bellicum’ engraved on the other, hinting the meaning of the word in Latin. The pistol was a subdued beauty, befitting William’s calm and responsible nature. “I bless your union, hope you find unbound happiness with and through each other” she said before  embracing them both in a hug.

 

The marriage was great fun, she met long forgotten acquaintances and had a fun time, fun that had eluded her for so long. Once finished with the festivities, she said her goodbyes to the couple and set on her journey again, promising them to visit when she can. She set her sights for Marsha's Plateau, there was info in the circles that a gang hunt was to be undertaken on court orders and that mercenaries will be signed up for a chance at cash and blood.

 

[Current Day] - The Black Blur

 

Melanie rode into the town around mid-afternoon and thought of getting herself a drink at the local saloon. She had gone without it for a fortnight and her mind seemed to urging her to get one. She rode across Blue Moon Saloon and settled in a silent corner with a bottle of rum. The town was nestled nicely in Marsha's Plateau but a fissure recently had been the cause of major anxiety here as patrons talked anxiously about it on a table nearby, one of them the Mayor of the town. A tremor about a few minutes ago had shaken them visibly, it seemed like it was becoming a regular occurring. The mayor promised some money for volunteers to check out the fissure which was believed to house some sort of weird and even approached two men in cloaks which moments later were revealed to be Rangers.

 

They politely declined the offer, mentioning something instead that caught Melanie's attention. They were here for a gang hunt and that it carried a big bounty. Not that Melanie was much interested in bounties, it just was her yardstick for measuring the notoriety of her prey. She walked up quietly from her chair, placing the still half-filled glass back down on the table and walked over to the two figures.

 

"I believe signups can be done here." she said in a her usual husky layered tone with a bit of a southern accent.

 

"Just interested in testing the toughs and fire a few rounds to ease myself." she finished, waiting for their reply.

Edited by Diabolical Rhapsodii, 10 March 2014 - 05:16 AM.

[The Illuminati]

°･:*✧The Silver Fox✧*:･°

Ye' Ol Saloon, Old Washstone.

Though still several hours away from sunrise, an unnatural heat had once more settled within the den of sin otherwise known as the 'Ye' Ol Saloon'. This sweltering heat, which always seemed to grow worse during the long hours of the night, was a combination of sweat, tears, sex, malice, tobacco, and broken dreams.

Tonight was especially severe as even the experienced girls on stage couldn't stop themselves from sweating through their cheap costumes and make-up. Now, after every dance number or so, the ladies had to go backstage and reapply their faces or head out back to cool down. Most took this time to puff on a cheap cigarette or cigar.

Off stage, the floor girls worked just as hard and sweated twice as much in the small, cramped space. Their job was not only to move through the crowd serving drinks and smokes, but to also keep the mostly male crowd in high spirits as they waited for a private dance from one of the girls on stage.

While technically still a brothel, Ye' Ol Saloon's owners realized that in order to distinguish themselves from all the other brothels in Old Washstone, they needed a hook. Something special, and unique that they could use to lure in customers. That hook, was having their girls dance on stage. And it was an overnight success. Weeks later, the owners added a bar. A few months after that, they hired a cook and the rest was history.

So, while every girl was potentially for rent, it was mainly those on stage that were working the rooms upstairs that night. That's why it was important for the girls on the floor to keep the gentlemen entertained and distracted as they waited for their turn with a particular girl. It was also their job to keep the men spending money. Customers who no longer had any money to spend, were quietly escorted off the premises.

Men like Adam 'Dutch' Bosman, were no exception. A low level informant, Dutch was an avid gambler and con man. Wanted in most civilized towns, he had a knack for racking up debts and then skipping town under a new alias. Other times, he would swindle the hard-earned cash from unsuspecting town folks and use that money to rack up more debt -- under whatever name he happened to be traveling under at that time.

Ye' Ol Saloon was one of the few places where people knew full-well who he was, and what he was about. As such, Dutch knew better than to show up there with empty pockets. Tonight was no exception. Like clockwork, Dutch rode into Old Washstone just after midnight, and headed straight for the brothel.

Being a con man, Dutch liked being unpredictable and off the radar. He had to be, with a decent sized bounty on his head. Of course, it wasn't anything huge but that was exactly the problem. Rookie hunters, while inexperienced liked going after 'easy' marks like him. So, he always had to be one step ahead of the law when traveling in civilized territory.

Old Washstone was the only real place where he could put his hat down, and his boots up. Surprisingly, despite the town's utter lawlessness, it had a charm about it that you couldn't find anywhere else. People here were a real sort of honest, especially when it came to their needs and vices, that others just weren't. Certainly not in places like New Bedlam, where folks pretended to be something men weren't ever meant to be. And of all the places in Old Washsone, Ye' Ol Saloon was his favorite to visit. Especially tonight.

Tonight, his favorite girl was on stage. More off a woman, she was too old to prance about like the rest. Instead, she would take the center stage and sing like her life depended on it. And considering her age and her profession, her life literally did depend on it. Red for short, Rosy had a red bush of hair and a large bosom that reminded Dutch of his dear mother. Since Red didn't pull the same numbers she used to, Dutch was usually first-in-line and payed for two sessions.

The thought of being her first that night was more than enough excitement for the middle-aged man. That didn't mean that the floor girls weren't welcome to try. As Dutch's own mother used to say, you can never have too much of a good thing.

There was one girl, who in particular had managed to capture his old, prejudiced eyes. She was a short, saucy little potato with hip-length, black hair. Shapely where it only ever mattered to a man, the barmaid costume fit her as if tailored to fit her small, full body. Even better, her Weird wasn't something strange like a tail, or horns. There was a five-foot weasel currently dancing on stage, that was very popular with the Weird enthusiasts in the crowd. Dutch liked his the old fashion way, though.

Besides looking mostly human, he could tell she was also a new girl. New girls always worked the floor first, selling cigarettes and liquor while taking orders for food, before graduating to the stage. Now, Dutch might have a favorite, but he was far from married to Red. That's why he always kept an eye out for any new talent that might have come in while he was away racking up debts. Calling the girl over with a whistle, he signaled with his hand and mouth that he wanted to buy a smoke off her.

"Hola, hello. What's your pleasure?" she asked him with a thick accent.

Giving her the mandatory, sleazy once-over, Dutch ignored the question and instead asked which part of Meggiko she was from. Obviously annoyed by this, she put her left hand on her hip before replying that she was in fact from Puerto Rico. This was good, Dutch like pissing his women off before conquering them. Makes the conquest all that much more sweeter, in his book. It was the same attitude he used when swindling people out of their petty savings. Sure, it'd be easy to go and earn that money himself. But not nearly as much fun.

"Porto Riko? Which part o'Meggiko is'at?" he asked, teasing her again. Glaring at the unwashed man, the girl made to turn and leave when Dutch pulled her effortlessly into his large lap.

"Now now," he laughed. "No need to get so angry. Meggicans sure are sensitive. How 'bout you give me a pack of the house special. Mmm?" he added quickly just as she started fighting to get out of his grip.

Cursing under her breathe in Spanish, she handed him a roll containing three, large cigars. Taking them with his free hand, he reached under her, into his pocket, with the other. Pulling out a pouch containing a decent amount of Lightstones, the girl's eyes glazed over for a moment, before she commented that at least now she knew what had been poking her in her thighs all this time. Smiling to himself and liking her feisty attitude, Dutch thought for sure he had her then, but then she continued with...

"It's amazing, es increíble, how much money you have to spend on whores and cigars when you still owe the Lehman Brothers so much more back in New Bedlam.

 
"What is this?!" Dutch hissed under his breathe.

"This, is a stick-up~!" the girl said with a small, red smile as she pressed the hidden pistol deeper into Dutch's quickly deflating crotch. "Sorry, I've always wanted to say that." she finished with a laugh. Desperately looking around him for help, Dutch tried to make eye contact with someone -- anyone -- for aide.

"Ah ah!" she continued smiling, as she ground the pistol painfully into his tender balls with her left hand. "We're having fun, si? Yesss! So, smile. Smile! Or else I'm going to blast your little friend here into next week. Then you'll be even more useless to a woman than you are now."

"Now... Oh! How rude of me! I almost forgot to introduce myself," she continued talking while, cocking the hammer of her gold and ebony pistol with her left hand. "¡Mierda! Shit! Where are my manners, must be the stink of this place clogging up my innocent, little mind. My name is Adrianna Estefani Francisca Hierra, otherwise know as The Silver Fox"

"Never Heard Of You." Dutch forced the words out between clenched teeth, and a hard smile.

"Hahaha. You say that like I should be offended. Now, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me... Well, you've no doubt guessed that I work for The Brothers. I'm a debt collector, Mr. Bosman. I specialize in tracking people like you, who like to hide in places like this."

"Listen," Dutch interrupted her again -- by her count, this was the second time. By the third, she would castrate him. After all, she just needed him alive. Not whole. "I have money," he continued. "I can pay you to forget you ever saw me!"

"You mean that small stash you hid outside town? I've already confiscated it. Wilderness Tax, you see. But... Maybe if you add the rest..?"

"A woman after my own heart!" Dutch almost sang. He could almost taste freedom on the tip of his tongue. "How do I, ermm... Where should I put them?" Despite everything, his eyes still found time to ogle her indecent display of pale flesh.

"Excuse me." Dutch said as he slipped the pouch containing the rest of his Lightstones in between his would be captor's deep cleavage. To her credit, she didn't even bat an eye at his boldness and sticky hand. Not even when the size of his once more swollen crotch forced her to readjust her pistol.

"Mmm~! Delicioso, Delicious. I must confess, I like how that feels. It's been much too long since something was of value was nestled against my bosom. Alright, then. Get up."

"Wait, I thought we had an agreement?"

"Of course we do," she lied. "But everyone thinks they've just seen you pay me for a bit of fun. It won't do if we leave separately. A lady always makes sure her assets are well covered, after all."

"...you don't intend to let me go, do you?" Dutch guessed correctly. "You little... THIS IS HIGHWAY ROBBERY!"

Shouting the last bit, Dutch forced Adrianna to stand up and smack him straight across the face with the butt of her pistol. This was more to keep him alive than to protect herself. Cowards like him, had a bad habit of running away and getting shot in the back. With that little bit of pain to his supposedly handsome face, she had just saved his life. For now.

Looking around her, The Silver Fox quickly took aim at the scoundrels and rogues who weren't drunk enough for their own good. Instead of firing her pistol though, she just wanted to scare them into taking cover while the floor girls ran backstage. With everyone now taking cover and reaching for their pistols, she grabbed Dutch by the scruff of his neck like the puppy he was and hauled him off the floor and over to the center stage.

Surprised by her strength, Dutch flopped helplessly behind her until she flipped over one of the tables with her free hand and took cover as a hailstorm of lead rained down all around them. Screaming freely for his mother to save him, Adrianna rolled her red and black eyes at the man beside her as she listened for an ebb in the gunfire. Finding it, she quickly leaned out of cover to fire a single glass bullet at a crossbeam. Her custom made pistols fired only special glass and copper 'bullets' that contained a strong, green chemical acid inside. A present from the man who had convinced her to join The Brothers. From the moment they met, he had understood that she was looking for a challenge to prove herself that you just couldn't really get with The Rangers, bounty hunting, or often enough with The Foremen. This need for a challenge extended to her choice of weapons.

As the intricate glass and copper case collided with the wooden support beam, The Silver Fox ducked back behind the wooden table as the gunfire started by up again in earnest. Shattering upon contact, the green liquid splashed unto many of the gunmen who immediately began howling in pain as their flesh bubbled up, and began forming tumors around the affected areas. The wood itself began smoking and soon caught fire along with any wooden tables that had also been wet by the acid. Grabbing Dutch by his neck again, she dragged him to his feet as she made a run for the exit. Only those unaffected by the acid were in a position to attack, but they had bigger problems to worry about as their favorite brothel quickly caught fire all around them.

Kicking open the back door, Adrianna made it safely into the back alley where her iron horse was hidden behind trash and boxes. Tossing her prisoner in beside her horse, she quickly ripped the whorish costume from her body to reveal a second outfit. This one was a cross between a man's pants and a woman's blouse, and full of brown leather. Uncovering her iron horse as Dutch fought his way to his feet, she was able to find her rope before he could even begin trying to get away from her. Using the butt of her pistol again, she punched Dutch in the stomach.

Partly because she could and partly as payback for nearly getting her shot, she bound his hands and feet before tossing him over the back of her ride. Hopping on in front of him, she quickly got them on the road before all of Old Washstone was on her tail. Looking up at her from the back, her red and black eyes shined in the light of the fire, Dutch suddenly felt like he was looking into the face of a monster. As they rode away, the burning brothel causing enough of a distraction that no one gave chase, Dutch could only wonder how he was going to get out of this one. Once they were well outside of town, so far away that they couldn't see the fire anymore, The Silver Fox pulled the sack of light stones from between her cleavage and added them to the others she had stolen from Dutch.

"Highway robbery, you called it? I was just making sure I had the right man. After all, the contract states that you, Adam Bosman, doesn't have enough money to pay your debt to the Lehman Brothers Bank and Mining Company. Therefore, I'm bringing you in with nothing but the clothes on your back. Accuracy, and all that."

"Don't worry though," she continued. "A few years in a Lightstone mine, and you'll have payed The Brothers back everything you owe them, plus interest. And!! You might even get a dandy, new Weird. Free of charge." she laughed as Dutch cursed and fought against his bonds.

They would need to stop at Marsha's Plateau first, to restock her supplies, before continuing on to New Bedlam. Once there though, The Silver Fox overhears the mayor of Marsha's Plateau's offer and decides to join the investigation to see what the cause of the tremors might be. It sounded like free money to her, and she wouldn't have to range too far from her prisoner, Dutch, who she will keep tied up in their motel room while she's away.

Edited by Black Lilith, 18 March 2014 - 08:45 PM.

[I-Am-X]

The Man With No Face

 

"Nothing, no trace of him at all..." he groaned as Hildegarde, his ghoulish iron horse, pressed forward. Always losing his trail, just can't get a solid credible lead. Coaxing people into answering won't get me anywhere, people cower just at the sound of his name. "Though..." looking at what seemed like a stairway heading upward. Marsha's Plateau, Might as well relax and check for some form of amusement. With a grin, he pressed forward. As he rode through the town, wearing a hood to hide his mask, he was met with suspicious looks. A hooded man appearing with a ghoulish looking horse will always put people on edge.

 

As is usual for relaxation, heading to the saloon is the only natural destination to go. Plus, what's better to find additional gossip/information than at a saloon? Get alcohol into anyone and you're bound to learn something new. With that, he found the establishment, The blue moon saloon. To not attract even more attention, and risk exposing himself, well for now at least, he decided to tie up and rest Hildegarde in the alley next to the bar. As he made his way to the front, over hearing a man talking, he decided to peer through the window and listen in.

 

"Enough!" The man, stood up slamming his mug down, "We ain't gonna sit by and let the Weird take our homes right from under us. I'm going down with anyone brave enough to check it out. I'll pay well for each gun that comes along." Based on the way he's dressed and the reactions, it's quite simple to pin that the man was the mayor of this little town. Hmm..

 

The Mayor than turned to regard a cloaked duo that were seated in the corner and had been minding their own business till now.

 

"What of you Rangers? Will you do your duty?" Rangers...mhm

 

They politely declined the offer, saying something about hunting down a gang with a hefty bounty before they do anything else. Another group of worthless trash, eh? Not like I'm one to talk.  Kek. Getting paid to take a trip to the fissure, eh? Looks like I've found my source of amusement today. As Drake waited for the Rangers to make themselves scarce, less attention the better, he decided to head into the bar. With eyes on him, he removed his hood, revealing his mask, and looked right into the mayors eyes. With an erry grin, "Looking for guns, eh? Count me in."

[Linkd]

Regulus

 

[5 Days Ago]

 

A dark shape sat on top a a pile, a pile of what? Nobody could tell....until they got closer.  A man was just sitting casually on top of a pile of Weird corpses, and he just sat on top of the bodies looking in the direction they came from.  

 

"Something isn't right, these many don't show up this often. I'm intrested...maybe a challenge."

 

Regulus got up and hopped down the pile of corpses and made way with his things, a great sword across his back and what lookied like a giant hand.

 

[Today]

 

Regulus walked into the Saloon, his huge weapons bringing in looks and gasps of surprise.  Regulus laughed to himself, people always wondered why he didn't just use guns or or other things to kill the Weird, they wondered why he would put himself so close to danger with just short, brutal weapons.  Look at these fools in confusion of what I use, these are the most efficient weapons, and require skill and strength not just a good pair of eyeballs and a good finger.

 

Regulus took a seat and looked around before ordering a drink, there seemed to be an interesting group in here, not to mention he had a feelings things were going to happen. A few minutes later he heard something that caught his attention.

 

"Enough! We ain't gonna sit by and let the Weird take our homes right from under us. I'm going down with anyone brave enough to check it out. I'll pay well for each gun that comes along."  

 

Regulus turned around to the noise and laughed. He walked up laughing and said, " Count me in, I need something to kill anyways."

Edited by linkd90, 16 March 2014 - 12:48 AM.

[The Illuminati]

°･:*✧The Silver Fox✧*:･°

Blue Moon Saloon, Marsha's Plateau.

It was mid afternoon on a hot, dry day. The Silver Fox had spent most of the cool morning restocking her supplies for the trip back to New Bedlam with her pet. But now that the sun was out in full force, she had wisely retreated back to her room above the Blue Moon Saloon. Her lovely skin was much too delicate for the harsh light of the noon day sun.

Inside the small room, she found her pet was still blindfolded and tied to the tiny bed in the middle of the room. Removing the scarf, that had been covering her hair and neck, and the simple sundress that made her look oh so helpless and in desperate need of a store's discount, Adrianna whistled low like a man would whenever she would walk by. Underneath the sundress was her regular attire and dual pistols. Placing the pistols on the dresser, she sent a few more cat-calls his way. Time to see how the man liked it.

"Aye, Papi! Why you no look this way, eh? You no speaky Spanni?!" she drawled, remembering how Dutch had acted before she stuck her pistol between his legs.

"Aye, no, Papi! Don't walk so fast," she teased as she jumped on top of Dutch with her new pocket knife in hand. She had made him a promise the night before, and by her count, it was time to collect.

Riding him slowly, she watched him shake his head in disgust even though his jeans hardened beneath her. Bringing the blade out quietly, she was just about ready to remove his pride an joy when there was yet another tremor. They'd been a damn near constant annoyance all morning. Now they just seemed bent on stopping her from keeping her promise.

Catching herself before she fell on the man below her, she let out the beginnings of a vicious scream before quickling strangling it with her throat. No need to draw any unnecessary attention to herself. With the pocket knife still in hand, she instead resorted to stabbing the pillow behind Dutch's head -- missing his face by some miracle.

Standing up, she took the knife and planted it half way through the top of the dresser before reholstering her weapons and applying her Día de Muertos facepaint. The Day of the Dead was a Mexican holiday, but she had long ago adopted the persona as her own. Unlike the holiday, which focused on praying for- and remembering loved ones that have passed on, Adrianna usually sentenced her bounties to a fate worse than death -- working in the Lehman Brothers' mines.

"Don't ya'll go nowhere, now. I'll be right back~!" she whispered into his ear with her hand around his tender throat.

Downstairs she caught the ass' end of the mayor's little speech, but that was more than she needed to hear. Great timing, really. She needed to blow off some steam, and getting payed to go for a walk seemed like a swell idea.

She'd have to make arrangements to have Dutch fed food and water, but otherwise it seemed like a good waste of time. If she stayed in the room with Dutch all day, she'd probably end up killing him. At the very least, she still had plans to chop off his chicken. Walking over after the fella with the oversized machete and the other with the mask were done, she signed herself up -- if the pay was good. She still hadn't heard numbers.

Edited by Black Lilith, 18 March 2014 - 08:44 PM.

[Visitor]

                                                                   J.Lo                                                             

 

Oh yes, The West surely was a Weird place.

 

A place filled with such oddities and miscellaneous events, that one could often lose themselves in such a vivid sense of imagery, just from hearing of the news from others alone. Things such as, what lies within Duggen Watch, just who is the Undertaker, and what brought about that Storm, that sourced all these problems...questions left unanswered, yet so desired. Word of mouth was key here, and as every speech here was worth its weight in gold, the information held needed to be true to its word. So of course, you could expect every bargain hunter and informant to be skeptical, even when promised the tangibility of prosperity. 

 

 "You sure this ain't some kinda' trick? You know, one of em' dead end road kind of things? You might be workin' for the Lehmans and all, but don't you think the information they have been given lately has been kinda off the track?"

 

Yes, it was quite alright to be skeptical within this moment.

 

"Say, you ain't jiving me, are you? That ain't honest, ya know?"

 

 

Marsha's Plateu

Blue Moon Saloon

 

 Upon hearing of the Undertakers arrival at this designation, J.Lo took this as a sign of promise, or possibly death. But even so, dying honestly wouldn't have been bad at all! Yes, it would have been alright. Had it been his time, surely he would have known, as those crows did their job of making things evident.

Anyway.

The town had a quiet air to it, quite possibly from the aftermath of the Undertakers arrival, or maybe from something else all together. Either way, he was sure that the residents here were in no mood to speak, as the atmosphere he gathered from simply stepping into the populace was one of anguish, yet it still seemed so casual. Black, tattered feathers lingered amongst the ground, some collecting over the rather large mounds of groundwork that seemed about 5 to 6 feet long, at best. Fresh, and still broken. 

 

"Looks like he really was here. What do you know.."

 

Focusing on the Saloon just a few feet before him, he stepped forward, the soft soil at his feet coming against his boots with an uncertain sense of resistency that denied what little power he put into each step. Steps, that he soon found himself replacing. Drawn backward, the earth shook beneath him, a forward and retreating motion that repeated itself, disregarding to the whims of the locals as they too, were left to it's onslaught. Drawing the ground up and down, to reveal the corpses that lain beneath those prior mounds, it was a tremor, and a ruthless one at that. However, it only took but a simple step backward for J.Lo to keep his form. Yes, you could say his balance was rather rooted, and in a literal sense, as beneath the right leg of his pants, sported several roots, all ingrained into the earth, which soon retreated into his leg, before disappearing in entirety. The tremor soon died out, until the disheveled nature of the townsfolk remained the only proof left of its existence, as J.Lo was long gone, and had entered the Saloon.

 

A name that rolled off the tongue, and rolled in the dough just as easily, that was the Blue Moon Saloon. Already packed with so many figures, it was clear to see that they were either taking refuge from the tremor, or coming together for some sort of plan. Was it tied to the Undertaker, perhaps?

....

After giving things some thought, J.Lo began to wonder if chasing after the Undertaker would lead to any treasure at all. Maybe he had just arrived because some folk ran into trouble at the mines, and needed to be properly buried. Hell, maybe there was nothing special going on at all, and that this town just suffered from really tragic tremors. J.Lo felt the need to ask, but just as he was about to, a higher power seemed to interject, and he found his voice overwhelmed by another.

 

"Enough!" Lambert, the mayor stood up slamming his mug down, "We ain't gonna sit by and let the Weird take our homes right from under us. I'm going down with anyone brave enough to check it out. I'll pay well for each gun that comes along."

Pay well.

Money.

 

But that's not treasure, is it?

He was ready to speak up once more, but even then did a voice aim to interject.

 

"Sorry mayor, but we can't pursue anything else till we bring in the gang hiding out below in the Wastes. Court orders. Pretty hefty bounty as well if anyone's interested in riding along."

 

Gang. Bandits. Outlaws. Thieves. Treasure. Yes, perhaps this was his fated moment after all! J.Lo stepped into the crowd, lips twisted within the fashion of a smirk, prepared to promote himself, only to be shut down, once more.

 

"Just interested in testing the toughs and fire a few rounds to ease myself." 

 

Finally fed up with all the interruptions, J.Lo brushed past the soft spoken women, and in a rather obnoxious tone, spoke out.

 

"Hey, hey, hey! You can't just go around stoppin' a man from talkin and talkin', don't you know? I'm gonna sign up too!"