View Full Version : Mentiras: Episode 1 - "Hey Mr. Tambourine Man!"
09-11-2002, 06:08 PM
WARNING AND NOTICE - Only players who have RECIEVED A MENTIRAS VERIFICATION PM FROM MAGUAMARU OR MYSELF may post in this thread. If you want to apply for a character, or chase us up about an unprocessed application, please refer to the Application Thread in the Open RPG forum.
And now... Ladies and Gentlemen! Maguamaru and myself proudly present for your viewing pleasure...
Episode 1 - Hey Mr. Tambourine Man!
Prostheses represent our cultural attitudes, beliefs, and values about bodies, able-bodiedness and how our bodies interact with technology. While people often think of culture and technology as distinct from one another, prostheses, like other forms of technology, are cultural things. They have obviously been quite specifically designed and born into us at birth for the environment, activities, and the abilities of the people using them and reflect the cultural ideals of our bodies.
"Is everything to your satisfaction, sir?"
The man didn't even lift his head from the newspaper. Humphrey was used to passengers on the trains paying him little attention, or treating him with little respect, so he was able to just shrug these things off, but he still felt a tang of regret whenever a passenger just went back to sipping their coffee rather than talk to his grotesquely elongated face. Why couldn't they appreciate his efforts as the conductor, waiter, tea lady, cake lady, security guard AND accountant as an all-in-one package? What was so difficult about saying, "Yes, thank you, the meal is wonderful" or "The view is splendid for such a desolate place"?
Humphrey sighed and straightened his bowtie a little, eyeing up the passengers seated in the back car of the train. Funny crowds often gathered on these multi-purpose locomotives, and the Gringo Expresa was certainly no exception. Perhaps it was the intriguing mix of passenger train, explosives transport medium, mail train and oversized-safe-deposit-box that attracted such motley crews?
Humphrey could only speculate. Yet today's crowd seemed less frighteningly weird than most of the miscreants and troublemakers that usually gathered in the sole passenger car; A cute blonde pigtailed girl with an oversized cowboy hat, a 'lone ranger' of sorts, clad in black, yet lacking any aura of intimidation, a somewhat vain-seeming man with unusually shiny boots, obviously custom-made or just exceedingly well-maintained, a man with a handlebar mustache at which Humphrey could barely contain his laughter, an adorable young thing clad in a pastel dress with light coppery hair cascading down her back, a black-haired man whose hair seemed to have some kind of will and consciousness of its own, a man who could only be described with the word 'dwarf', a gray-haired man with the look of many days on the road about him, a moderately tall man with sideburns to make your grandmother blush, a young woman with caramel skin and somber brown eyes, a gentleman with piercing, steeled blue eyes that seemed to bore into the soul, and a short-ish girl with a charming smile and relaxed emerald irises. Despite the seemingly large collaboration of passengers, the carriage wasn't even half full.
Humphrey couldn't help but let out another one of his characteristic upper-class sighs. He hated days like this - signs that the rail industry was going down the tubes again.
“To govern all alike—those opposed as well as those who favor the law.”
It was their mot, their motto, and their proverb as upholders of the law. They were told that when things seemed to have no end, or if the going got tough, to remember this motto and to always hold their chins up high.
Precisely what I am in my barnyard, a bridle and check to prevent the strong and greedy from oppressing the timid and the weak. But for the third day in a row? Mad Dog, you varmint!
Carrie-Lynn and Colt rode hard side by side down a long stretch of train track on identical ilusões, large reptilian like creatures that looked far much more like the modern day woodpecker than any lizard or snake. Despite their crude looks and ugly mugs, the ilusões proved to be the fastest mode of transportation bar one: steam-powered locomotives. These clunky, steam-belching hunks of human blood, sweat, and technology carried many things ranging from passengers to gold. One train in particular, the Gringo Expresa, carried both gold and passengers, though a significantly greater mass of that which was mentioned first. From what Carrie-Lynn and Colt understood from the tip given to them by a young barmaid, the tracks on which the Gringo Expresa follow stray dangerously close to Mad Dog’s Jaurez’s hideout.
The caboose of the Gringo Exprea grew near as the two mounted sheriffs, covered in grime from the dust and sand of Alamo’s dry conditions, readied themselves to make a leap onto the back end of the train’s very last car, “Colt, you go first! Just don’t do anything…unnecessary!” Carrie-Lynn shouted over the thunderous galloping of the ilusões.
Colt McEdwyn looked back a little over his shoulder, but primarily to the left, towards his partner. A cocky grin spread across his face, painlessly stretching the scar adorning his lower face and neck. The tips of his unkempt, yet short-cut reddish hair blew wildly from the rim of his blue-black cowboy hat, which seemed placed inexplicably firmly on his head even despite the strong wind generated by their rapid movement.
"As if I EVER do anything stupid!" Colt shouted over the cacophony of steel wheels, pounding hooves, and rushing wind. With a sharp shout and a firm tug on his steed's reins, he drew himself up a little way in front of the back corner of the gargantuan locomotive. Sensing that his ilusõ was about to collapse in an exhausted heap from its extensive workout, he steeled his nerves and leapt from the saddle to the train car, clinging on to an iron pole by his fingertips. Gradually, he pulled himself up to a secure position on the back of the car, yet with one silver-booted leg pointing back towards Carrie-Lynn.
Colt chuckled playfully and extended his protruding leg six inches or so towards his fellow sheriff. His prosthetics often came in so handy for taunting her - from raising himself up to a staggering 6'8" and continuously using an irritating faux-deep voice to leaping up to high places in order to successfully avoid the inevitable physical violence that often followed a particularly good prank, his extendable legs never let him down.
"Grab right on if you need a 'leg-up', Carrie!" laughed Colt.
Carrie-Lynn rolled her eyes as she steadied herself for the great leap. Colt was always making such horrible jokes; she sometimes found herself wondering why she’d even considered becoming his partner in the first place. Though the more she mused on partnerships and certain red-haired rascals named Colt, the more her ilusõ fell behind the train. Deciding not to delay it any longer, the young sheriff gave her exhausted steed a pat on the head and leapt out from the creature’s saddle and grabbed onto Colt’s protruding leg. She held onto it with one hand as she reached for 10 Paces with the other, “Alright then, Colt, reel me up!”
The lighthearted man's face reeled in surprise for a moment. He had meant his offer as nothing more than a joke, a taunt to his partner, whose augmentations and prosthesis were hardly geared for showing off or impressing girls in bars.
"Not that Carrie would actually WANT to impress girls in bars. Or maybe she would... whoooa, there's a thought. No, NO! MISSION! Concentrate, damn it!"
With an overly zealous and rather sudden retraction of his leg, Colt not only managed to 'reel' Carrie-Lynn up, but also succeeded in sending her smashing into his lower back like a twisted battering ram and sending them both head-first through the door in front of them. Unfortunately, it was Colt who took the majority of the fall, and left himself open as a human doormat for Carrie-Lynn to walk semi-calmly into the carriage upon once she had regained her composure.
With her gun drawn and her boot dug deep into Colt’s back, the two sheriffs must have looked more like a predator and its prey than Cliffton’s most well-known law enforcement duo. There was screaming and shouting from many of the passengers on board after just being barged in on suddenly, making Carrie-Lynn irritable, “Please, everyone, remain clam and sit down!” Because of all the noise, it was no wonder why Carrie-Lynn’s request wasn’t heard. Frustrated, the young woman stepped off of Colt who groaned lowly in reprise of the pain, “PLEASE, CALM DOWN!” She shouted, causing all of the passengers, including the car’s “cookie-lady”, Humphrey, to pause for a beat, “Thank you…” she began, pulling out from her shirt a small, browned-leather slip wallet. She flipped it open, revealing a gold, five-pointed star, “Sheriff Carrie-Lynn Ermingard and Sheriff Colt McEdwyn at your service. Sorry to inconvenience you all, we would have made much more of a graceful entrance if we knew the Gringo Expresa was carrying passengers today.” Quite embarrassed, Carrie-Lynn’s cheeks flushed as she came to the realization that the Gringo Expresa ALWAYS carried passengers when passing through Cliffton.
09-11-2002, 07:01 PM
"Oh good lord I hate taking the train..." There was a reason for that of course...maybe it was the crowded part. Or maybe it was the part about having to depend on someone else to get you where you were going.
Either way Maria was regretting her decision already.Brushing stray locks of dark brown from her eyes Maria yawned extending long arms in a psuedo stretch nearly hitting another passenger who meekly protested.
"Pardon me." Maria apologized loosening the collar of her red checked shirt before crossing her arms. Eyes of earthen hues were shadowed by lashes as her lids drooped. There was really no reason to worry, she would be home soon enough. Lulled by the sound of churning metal and hushed whispering Maria slowly began to drift off.
Of course this peace was to be short lived. From her side came a loud thumping sound followed by the door being slammed back as a pair of..."Law men..." came tumbling in. They gave the passengers a start and probably scared away whatever they were looking for.
“Sheriff Carrie-Lynn Ermingard and Sheriff Colt McEdwyn at your service. Sorry to inconvenience you all, we would have made much more of a graceful entrance if we knew the Gringo Expresa was carrying passengers today.”
Smirking Maria leaned back in her seat and tipped her hat down muttering. "Nice work there sheriff." With brillance like that they had nothing to worry about! Maria chuckled bitterly under the hat.
"I know I feel safe." The sooner she was off that train. The better.
09-11-2002, 08:30 PM
Mr.Macabe was being handed his tea as the duo made their entrance and the waiter nearly spilled the tea, the chubby air-ship captain quickly caught the cup, it's saucer, and the aromatic tea.
"Thank you, that will be all."
He looked at the gun-toting lawmen and did not doubt their words, they simply didn't have the feel of bandits. This delay was just one more sour note in this whole trip. He had met with a potential client who needed to charter an airship, but could not come to an agreement.
"Don't leave us in suspense good Sheriff Carrie-Lynn, why did you need board the train? Are we in some sort of danger or perhaps their is a criminal in our midst?"
10-11-2002, 03:10 AM
Mickey lifted his head slightly from the newspaper he was reading to see what all the commotion was about. Before him stood a pair of sheriffs that had made a less than spectacular and rather loud entrance into the passenger car. His cold blue eyes surveyed the situation breifly before looking back down at his paper. He cared very little for the matters of others. Aslong as they stayed out of his way he could care less about them or their problems. None the less, he couldn't resist and oppurtunity to remind others of their mistakes, and this would be no exception.
Without lifting his head from his paper he spoke. "Well I should certainly hope that they weren't after somebody on this train. Why with the way they entered I'm sure my cripple grandmother could have gotten away relatively un-noticed. That is, of course, unless she was given a heart attack from that folly of an entrance."
Mickey gazed over his paper at the sheriff who had announced the two. "Or perhaps that is new standard procedure? To startle your targets to death? Or perhaps to scare them away?"
Dust and air that tasted like smoke was sucked in. Then expelled, slowly. She did her best to look casual, arms hugged over her stomach, as she slowly pushed the small box next to her feet further under the seat.
Who were they after?
Were they after her?
Technically, she hadn't done anything illegal to get the medicine currently living in glass bottles in the box under her feet. It was a vaccine, a common enough one, but one that the kids would never have been able to afford.
Until she'd found the black market dealer three towns over.
Her name was Annie Kidd and she was trafficking drugs.
They weren't exactly bad drugs. And she wasn't transporting them for any reason other than the kids at the orphanage needed their vaccines. And if she'd been able to obtain them through legal markets instead of black market dealers for half the price (and likely the drugs had been stolen, she admitted, otherwise how would she have gotten such a good deal?) then she certainly would have.
Annie stewed in her guilt and fear. Her stomach was one, big ball of anxiety. Her skin felt itchy and hot on the inside, and cold and dry on the outside. Pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips.
They were going to lock her up and throw away the key.
She was too young to be arrested! She had so many other things to do! Who was going to protect the kids at the orphanage from the bullies? Who was going to teach them how to make those annoying whistle things out of straws of grass or how to burp the alphabet?
Tearfully, she imagined being thrown into jail and having to lift weights with all the hardened criminals and break rocks that really didn't need breaking, but they'd make her break them anyway. It was too much to bear!
It didn't occur to her that they hadn't expected passengers, even when the pretty lady said so. If her brain had wrapped around that nugget of golden information, then she would have realized that they couldn't have been after her.
Unfortunately, Annie wasn't entirely grown-up. Sweating like a kid shoplifting their first candy bar, she tightened her grip on her seat, clenched her thighs together, the backs of her boots resting against the box with the illegal goods, and kept her head down, dusty resistol leaving a shadow over her quaking straw-blong pigtails and freckles.
10-11-2002, 10:57 AM
(OOC: Me and Femmie joint-y!)
Colt stepped forward assertively, answering the question directed at his partner before she had the chance to. "We weren't after anyone here," the smiling sheriff began. "We received a tip-off earlier today that Mad Dog Juarez is planning one of his silly little stunts on this train. Jus' doing our jobs."
"That is exactly correct." Carrie-Lynn stated, she had sounded rather irritated, "And if Mad Dog were already on this train, y'all would be dead." With contempt, she stared at the blue-eyed man who peered up over his paper at her. It was obvious he was quite unaware of a practice most commonly known as maturity, "Though I do promise there will be no more unnecessary commotion, so y'all can just sit back and enjoy your trip." And with that, Carrie-Lynn holstered her gun and walked down through the aisle toward the other end of the caboose. Once she neared the door, she turned 'round to see if Colt were following her, as he should have been doing, but instead found him to be up to something else…
In fact, 'doing something else' was something McEdwyn seemed to find himself doing a lot. This time, it was nothing too unusual - someone had caught his eye, and he was off to begin what may or may not become a long career of harassing them.
"Well hey there, is something wrong?" Colt began in his pseudo-charming tone, so absorbed in his prey that not even Carrie-Lynn's eye-rolling could reclaim him. The pigtailed girl he had plopped himself down next to seemed nervous and detached, and doubtless his 'courting' was only going to heighten her negative emotional state.
"C'mon, you know it's my job to help people in this here town, right? So if there's anything I can do for a pretty young thing like you, just gimme a call, ok?"
Oh Christ, Colt. You're like a mutt in a meat shop.
With Colt being busy, Carrie-Lynn groaned inwardly and opened the door between cars. The loud noise of the train's steel wheels gliding along the rickety track filled the caboose, but soon dissipated as the young sheriff shut the door behind her and stood between the caboose and the next car which happened to be a car full of goods. It was a fantastic decision, useless, undignified, risky, she had not the least intention of going back inside the passenger car once she'd climbed the ladder to the top of the large wooden car. Once at the top, Carrie-Lynn had noticed that this train was comprised of many cars, possibly even close to 8 dozen. Each one carried gold, iron ore, and other goods, it was of no wonder why the Gringo Expresa was to be Jaurez's next target.
"Um..." She took a shaking breath. "N-no-nothing is wro-wrong."
Edging as far away from the man sitting next to her as she could, she felt her shoulder bump against the wall. She kept her heels locked around the box, dragging it along with her while she folded her arms more tightly over her stomach, almost curling in on herself.
Prison. The slammer. The penn. The... She actually managed to pause in her cowering to try to think of another nickname for prison. She couldn't seem to come up with one.
"You're... you're old enough to be, like, my daddy or something." She scooted further away. "And I don't need you or anyone else to protect me. I can take care of myself."
Giving a stern nod to him, she kept her heels gripped to either side of the box, keeping it under her seat. Then jerked one hand up, jabbing at the underside of her resistol to push it back. She glared at the man.
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself. A grown man, a lawman no less, trying to butter up a girl half your age." Tight-lipped, she clucked her tongue and shook her head at him, cross swaying with the movement before settling at the edge of neckline of her shirt again. "For shame, Sherriff. For shame!"
11-11-2002, 12:38 AM
The lazy rocking of the train car was a motive lullaby within the confines of the passenger car, warmed as it was by the mid-day sun. Every tie in the tracks caused another rythmic, shuddering lurch in the motion of the train as Furio Luigi Antonio Minelli sweated underneath his thick black trench coat and mandatory gunslinger attire. Outside the desolate beauty of the endless desert passed languidly by, vast vistas of sun-baked sandstone and dust sprawling across the horizon.
Briefly he glanced out the window. The flat desert, painted in hues of orange, was nothing special. It existed everywhere on this world. Its lonely charm was lost on all who lived here, suffered here, toiled here. It was all they could do to stay alive.
Of course that was lost on Furio. All that he saw was a brown fuzz, topped with a thick yellow haze emanating from a brilliant white point. He squinted even further, and managed to bring a few fuzzy lines into focus before they were lost once again to the fog that permeated his world.
He turned back to the room around him and propped his head back against the window, covering his face from the sun with his hat. Maybe it was time to consider glasses.
He was just dozing off to sleep, rocked nearly to peaceful slumber by the constant rocking of the car, when his quiet was loudly interrupted by two men of the law. Or a man and a woman. All he heard were voices. Several passengers screamed and many moved away from the rear of the car where the two had entered so suddenly. The one whom he assumed to be female haltingly spoke to the small crowd of frightened passengers, but much as a messiah's true words are lost on the ears of willfully deaf followers, these words of comfort and reassurance were lost on the idiotic herd.
"Please, everyone, remain clam and sit down."
The shouting and fear continued until the woman fought back with equal frenzy, proudly displaying her symbol of power. A five-pointed star made from tin and plated with brass. Standard law enforcement issue.
Not to say that these two were any brighter than the herd which they were trying to calm.
“Sheriff Carrie-Lynn Ermingard and Sheriff Colt McEdwyn at your service. Sorry to inconvenience you all, we would have made much more of a graceful entrance if we knew the Gringo Expresa
was carrying passengers today.”
Absolutely brilliant. Charge into the passenger car and claim ignorance to the fact that the train was carrying passengers. The Gringo Expresa always carried passengers. It was really just a formality mainly, in the end. All the real money came from transporting ores. This was just pocket cash.
His moustache bristled as the male, Colt McEdwyn, passed him and promptly began hitting on a young girl.
This was going to be a long trip. His right arm shifted uncomfortably in its socket. It was hard to keep it in this position, since it was geared towards being extended straight in front of him. The restraints were prone to breaking and often led to trouble. Such was the price one pays for convenience.
Shortly the young girl's voice was raised as she balked at the good Sherriff's advances.
"For shame, Sherriff. For shame!"
For shame indeed. The Sherriff's wouldn't find many friendly individuals amongst this lot. Outlaws didn't exactly appreciate the presence of the law in their midst, after all.
Furio stood. The noise was beginning to bother him. Speaking of noise, where had that damn mariachi band gone too? Probably at the bar trying to weasle their way into a bottle or two...
He glared at the Sherriff, his squint becoming even squintier.
"Shut yer hole son. I don't much apprec-ate all the noise yer makin'."
Now the plan itself was simple, and to Rupert's eyes that was the true sign of his genius. He had managed to take control of the situation perfectly. In the four minutes since the ungainly sheriffs had burst into the car, the last two had been spent getting into position, the two prior having been spent trying not to soil himself. Arguably, he had spent all four minutes trying not to soil himself, and the fact that he was now concealed in the shadow of the open door had more to do with Rupert immediately trying to hide himself rather than seeking any particular 'position'... but Rupert had heard of this common sense thing, and wanted no part of it.
The situation was critical. From what Rupert's higly trained senses picked up of the conversation in the room, two criminals had taken the occupants of the passenger car hostage by posing as sheriffs, on account of a "Bad Log." Rupert wasn't quite sure why an urgent desire to use the bathroom required a hostage situation, but this was clearly the work of twisted criminal minds. He wasn't sure why they were being nice to the passengers, showing proper identification, and offering a perfectly reasonable explanation either. But who knows how criminals worked. Nightdark was clearly needed here.
Rupert had formed a basic four step plan, and had he paper to write it down it would have looked like this:
Step One: Roll out from behind door.
Step Two: Shoot criminals.
Step Three: .....
Step Four: NIGHTDARK RULEZ!!1
In action, the plan was foiled by a series of three things. The first was that Ruperts athletic ability was so poor that his attempt at a roll resulted in crashing into an unoccupied seat and severely dislocating his shoulder. The second occured exactly 4 seconds later, when he scrabbled to his feet, drew his shotgun in a move practiced dozens of times in front of the mirror and fired to discover that Diabolus was unloaded.
The third was more of a technicality than a setback, but as Nightdark stood sadly in the aisle with his empty gun and dislocated shoulder, a telltale rustle of cloth at his ankles told him that he had once again inadequately fastened his pants.
11-11-2002, 09:32 AM
He hadn't had the chance to move even an inch before the commotion started. He turned his head to the door where a small black figure....
'S that one of the midgets?
....Threw itself headlong from the doorway, ungracefully landing firmly in a chair while pulling a long, thin object out which made a clicking sound as he held it at arm's length.
A old man with a cane?
After flailing into the chair he stood up, and suddenly the black blob turned into two black blobs; one on the floor and the other hovering in midait atop two white pillars.
Furio groaned. Now on top of having a lecherous Sherriff hitting on children, we had an old man flashing the passengers of the train.
The train car fell silent.
A gust of wind kicked up dust along the main street.
A whistle sounded in the background.
The band was back in town.
He heard them enter. The shuffling of tiny feet, the clunk-clank sound of their instruments being knocked around. Their chittering espanola. Then they seemed to stop in the aisle. There was the sound of rushing midgets, and then he heard their instruments rise over the noise of the train.
Paco was whistling. The theme rose, a careful tremolo carrying over the air.
Julio struck the first note on his guitar.
A fight? He looked again at the thing standing by the door. Its cane had made a clicking sound as he put it up.
He squinted at the blob.
"Boy, I think you 'bout shot someone here. Put it down or I'll make you."
Furio swung his right leg around and faced square down the aisle, his legs shoulder width apart, his hand at his gunbelt, fingers twitching.
11-11-2002, 10:41 AM
Arthur had been sipping on his tea while these events fermented around him, trying to draw him in this ludicrous dance, Macabe, stay out of this. You're an honest businessman, Let these others do as they will. All will be well in the fullness of time.
He nodded, agreeing with his thoughts and taking another sip at the tea. He placed the cup on the folding table in front of him and tugged at his tight white, gold rimmed collar with a white gloved hand. A bead of sweat rolled down his brow.
Ruination, why are you getting involved?
"Good constable, I was not aware that it was a lawman's duty to fraternize with young girls on duty. Should you not be on the lookout for whatever villain or outlaw you came here to arrest?"
Yeah, why should anything ever be easy you lout? Maybe you should just pull your ******* pistol and start shooting? Or throw your tea biscuits and jam across the room, go ahead it's just what a child would do....Idiot.
Arthur sighed, listening to his inner voice's anger. In his mind he was always so sensible and subdued, but outside he felt the need to do these bizarre things. He picked up his saucer and had another sip of tea, dabbing a bit from his well-groomed mustache.
11-11-2002, 02:16 PM
A cold, grim stare was the only thing the bounty hunter Cleveland Ferris offered the train cabin. His hands set lightly on the arm rests of his chair, a dusted and ragged hat and grey coat rested in a heap in the seat next to him.
Ferris ran a hand across his stubbled chin as his tired, sunken eyes glanced out of the train window for a brief moment. Mad Dog Juarez...wanted man...a decent bounty...he was the only reason Ferris had boarded the steam engine in the first place...
A cool air brushed past the quiet bounty hunter as the two sherriffs entered the car...the commotion and heightend tension that filled the crowded room stirred him to reach for a pistol he had concealed in his coat...
"We received a tip-off earlier today that Mad Dog Juarez is planning one of his silly little stunts on this train. Jus' doing our jobs."
~....Pups.~ Ferris thought as the two sherriffs prattled on with their speech. ~They're going to get in my damned way.~ Ferris had never favored the long arm of the law...it wasn't their tireless efforts to preserve peace that bothered him...instead it was the fact that the sherriffs were his competition. Many a bounties had Ferris lost to a wily law giver.....but Colt and Carrie-Lynn weren't Ferris's only concern.
His eyes drifted towards Maria with a thin, white eyebrow quirked. It had been awhile since Ferris had seen the rather unlikely bounty hunter...but he could still remember the young girl and her husbands escapades through the business. ~Hmph...another competitor?~ He thought. ~I don't see that gung-ho husband of hers around......I don't like this.~
Ferris clenched his teeth and reached for his hat, pulling the old grey bill down over his eyes and waited...
11-11-2002, 03:28 PM
Colt, while not only catching flack by the girl he was taking fancy to and a few other passangers, got more ammo shot at him from behind.
"Shouldn't your job be to protect us, officer, instead of picking on girls half your age? I'd have thought the law was disapproving of such behaviour. Why don't you busy yourself with your job?"
Ella-Jane folded her arms and leaned back in her seat, her fringe almost hiding her sharp bluegreen eyes. Looking much younger than her 17 years, she put off the impression of at least acting older. And meaner. She exhuded mean, though if her expression wasn't one of loathing, she would've been rather pretty.
11-11-2002, 04:28 PM
This trip didn't please him at all. Hell no. Mulligan Yves just had trouble with a patient that hadn't told him about his hidden implants. This led to the destruction of his longneck bone saw and his arrow headed cranium opener. If his patient had told him about his metalic skeleton he wouldn't have had to take this train. This really pissed him off, which made him grunt even more than usual, which was a hell of a lot. But what currently kept hold of his attention was an entirely different matter.
"What might ye be doin' son?"
The thick bearded midget didn't know wether he should laugh or weep at pathetic scene. A scrawny kid dressed in black crashed right in front of him and tried to shoot with an unloaded shotgun. Oh wait, laughing wasn't even in Doc Yves' dictionary. A now crippled dog had eaten that page as well as the whole L, M and N sections.
The grizzled dwarf thought of nothing better than patting the poor teenager on his enormous hat.
"Yarr! That be a mighty stunt ye pulled here lad, why don't ye just sit down and stay put like a gentle lil' boy instead of goofing around."
11-11-2002, 05:26 PM
Irving Fortune let out a loud yawn as he slowly woke up from his joyable nap when someone crashed through the door and lifted his head up, lifting his hat little bit from over his eyes and raised an eyebrow at the two guardians of law and order as they made their entrace. He watched them for a moment before shaking his head and yawning again.
" No style whatsoever...not that I'm suprised," he muttered to himself before stretching himself up a bit and intertwining his fingers before him, streched his hand before him and cringed when he heard a small crack from his flesh hand.
" Must learn not to do that," he said to himself and shook his hand a bit. He tended to forget that his other hand was metal and tended to cause the flesh hand stretch a little bit too much when he did that. Sighing in boredom, Irving looked around the train. While most people would have seen two sheriffs, a nervous girl, a small dwarf, an extremely clumsy boy, etc. Irvings mind comprehended what he saw as; suckers, suckers to be robbed in a poker game and an extremely clumsy boy to be robbed in a poker game, who is also a sucker.
But it couldn't be helped. With his talents, most people around you just naturally didn't seem equal or even close. It wasn't his fault that he was just that damn good.
Sitting up straighter by the table he was sitting in, he looked around at everyone, pulling back the sleeve of his Deck Dealer arm and smiled with not so much as happiness than the delight of knowing that he could make a buck or two before making his way to the next poker tournament few towns away.
" Anybody up for a game of poker?" Irving said, his metal fingers catching the card that flew out from under his wrist up from his Deck Dealer between his middle and index finger. The card flew out fast enough that it was hard to catch it emerging and to the casual observer it would have seemed to just have appeared between his fingers. Irving let out a small grin as he saw what the card was.
Ace of Spades. This might just be his lucky day.
11-11-2002, 05:28 PM
(OOC: I love you all! Quality roleplaying here, people. ^^ Let's keep this ball rolling!)
The various snide insult-and-question combinations that were being flung Colt's way seemed to have their own special way of bouncing of his thick skull. Sherrif McEdwyn was a man who was not easy to offend unless you followed your words through into actions.
Unfortunately, this was just what 'Nightdark' had decided to do. However, Colt was not offended so much as amused - whether it was the lack of words for his actions to elaborate on, the pure incompetency with which the young man executed his maneuvers, or simply the banal, yet very effective, comic value of seeing a man with his pants pulled down, the result was the same for the lawman.
Colt quirked his eyebrow at Nightdark, breaking the semi-silence with a brief snigger. He was aware that he, too, had his own fair share of incompetence and comical shortcomings, but this just strayed into the ridiculous. However, the sheriff chose this one moment out of a hundred thousand to remember such a simple law enforcer's virtue as 'tact', and followed through by exercising it half-assedly in his next sentence.
"You... umm... need any help there, champ?"
Poor Colt McEdwyn. Truly fickle when it came to focusing his attention on one thing for more than a few seconds, even if it was an adorable jailbait chick.
11-11-2002, 05:35 PM
Rook was a simple man in the middle of a complicated situation that did not fit him at all. The train had been busted into by the law--nothing wrong with that of course but couldn't they have gotten a ticket like the rest of them? And now the sheriff was hitting on some cute kid, while some other guy tried to pull some sort of super manuever on the sheriff which did not seem to turn out very well at all.
Head spinning he tried to figure out what to do. It seemed some people were already dealing with the pedophillic sheriff so he stooped down at the darkly dressed man side, helping him up.
"What are you trying to do? Relax! It's a train ride! No reason to get all excited."
He tried to ignore the musical spanish midgets, being as they'd count for some sort of excitement, as did that lovely redhead--
Nightdark was forgotten and Rook grasped Ella-Jane's shoulder, heart fit to burst inside his chest. Had he found her? His beloved red haired beauty of the desert with the soul of an angel but the devious, devilish occupation of a bandit, Maria? Oh, how he had searched far and wide for her over the years! Now, finally, his journey may be at an end!
"Maria! Is that you?! It's me, Rook! I was going to make you pancakes!"
If only his speech could always reflect the dramatic heartfelt rubbish inside his mind.
11-11-2002, 08:16 PM
Mickey looked up from behind his paper once more. Before him stood a sight he wished he hadn't bore witness to. There stood a man who had just fallen in through a doorway, injured his arm, drew an unloaded gun and managed to drop his pants in the process. It was just one of those days he guessed.
"Well, today sure does seem to be the day for botched entrances and I think yours is the most patehtic of the day. You should go introduce yourself to the two sherrifs over there." He told the man. "The lot of you seem to have a whole lot in common from what I can tell. One went through that doorway over there and the other is hitting on that girl who is much younger than himself. You should form a club or something. Whatever you do, do it quietly and out of my way. You've proved yourself to be more than enough nuisance for one day." He said as he slid back behind his paper. He was beginning to question whether or not he made the right decision by getting on this train in the first place.
11-11-2002, 08:54 PM
Arthur's nostril's flared at the mention of poker, but tensions were high and his bad habbit of winning card games could be the straw that broke the ilusoe's back. He decided to ignore the others until things calmed down.
That's it old boy, you're no criminal and these lawmen should take care of any that rear their ugly heads.
Granted he was perfectly willing to use his ivory handled mechanized pistol and could, to great effect if pressed. He had seen plenty of violence in his day and was not exactly in a rush to participate in any more.
"Finished already? Another cup of tea would be nice, where did that steward get to?"
He turned to look at the landscape outside his window, the wasteland offered a rugged beauty but nothing like the utopia promised by the Machine Republic , but those dreams were dead and buried, his brave comrades burned in the fires of barbarism...bah, self-pity and loathing were counter productive; but still, what could have been...
Macabe shrugged and awaited the return of the steward.
11-11-2002, 09:57 PM
Twitch. "What. Is. Pancakes?! Are you insane?!" Someone had dared to touch her!
She smacked his hand away and glared up at him, cheeks puffing out. Creeps everywhere! A pedophilic sheriff, a guy with his pants down, and now some... some... jerk that thinks he can touch her and call her by his old girlfriend's name!
"Even if I was this Maria, I wouldn't dare eat your bloody pancakes!" she snapped. She glared at him. It was a mean, evil glare but it didn't carry across since her face was so angelicly shaped.
She snapped her hair back and folded her arms. "Whoever this Maria is was wise to get away from you -- creep!"
11-11-2002, 10:11 PM
Mickey noticed the way her eyes burned with intensity and anger. He was suprised to see a look such as that come from one such as she, but Mickey found himself often suprised. Usually he was suprised at how stupid people could be tough, so this was a welcomed change. He instantly held her to a higher regard than anyone one else present in the room, except for himself of course. Someone who's eyes could shine so brilliantly in anger deserved it.
(OOC: Yeah this is kinda pointless but its there to show how Mickey is about people by their eyes >.>)
12-11-2002, 12:30 AM
Staring stupidly at the redhead, Rook's mind tried to process what was said. He came to a conclusion--this was not Maria. Even if her strong denial of feelings for him mirrored the missing bandit's perfectly. But still, to deny the greatness of pancakes, that was a serious matter that needed to be approached carefully.
"There's nothing wrong with my pancakes--you haven't even had any yet!! ...you sure you're not Maria?"
The look he got told him he was indeed mistaken. He dropped to his knees, head bowed in momentary mourning. Oh, Maria, his one and only true love, a lone shining star in the blackness of the moonless night.... Her strength, her pride, her smile, her beautiful mane of red hair that set her apart from the rest...
"...oh, m..maria...when will I finally find you..."
He heaved a mighty sigh of longing before hopping to his feet with a smile. "I suppose I'll have to keep looking then! So, has anyone here seen a beautiful redheaded bandit named Maria, she's a pure soul with a sinful career but I'm sure it's really for the good of the world that she does so...."
12-11-2002, 12:35 AM
She huffed and rolled her eyes, arms folded. Any other threats on the train seemed to mean nothing to her. She simply felt out of place as always, and all the attention that was focused on her was annoying her. Her sharp eyes took in the room... taking everything in, every face in, and wondered how the hell people who were so different could coexist. She was jealous about how calm everyone was. It wasn't fair. Different people meshing and melding, that's the way it should be everywhere. Maybe this place will be different.
She did have beautiful eyes; glittering swirling green and blue. They held uneasiness and annoyance, though framed paley and on such a face that could be warm... but wasn't.
A cool breeze somehow managed to waft across the train, and Rupert shivered. His entrance had caused possibly a moment's confusion before people all started talking at once. In other circumstances, Rupert might have been hurt by such snide comments. However, seeing as the entire purpose of subtlety was lost on a boy currently standing in heart-printed boxer shorts, he wasn't really affected. Ignoring the general hubub, he turned to the most pressing matter - looking cool. As one could hardly be said to be cool with only a pair of boxer shorts to preserve their modesty, that was the most pressing task. He reached down with his left hand, his mind telling him there was some reason that he shouldn't be using his right.
Rupert was well-versed with the art of putting on pants, and it was a skill he was very proud of having. He remembered his training. Grasp the waistband firmly, and raise...
For once, it was not Rupert's skill that resulted in his failure. It was the fact that his left hand consisted entirely of an iron claw. For a moment, it looked as if he might have succeeded. Then the belt shredded in his hand and he was once again standing revealed to the world.
It was only then that he noticed a man jabbering at him, and Rupert's bemused head swivelled to take in his diatribe.
"You should form a club or something. Whatever you do, do it quietly and out of my..."
With an uncanny burst of inspiration, Rupert snatched the man's paper and quickly used it to conceal his modesty, hiding it somewhere in the sports section. The man rattled onward, not seeming to notice. Rupert was once again convinced that he was a genius that no malignment of luck could serve to hinder. The paper shredded slightly as his claw took hold of it, and a part of his brain sought about trying to remember the reason that he couldn't use his normal, right arm.
It was then that he heard the music.
To Rupert, as he caught sight of the squinting man straddled across the aisle, the music carried the strains of an impending conflict. Of crossed paths. Of, dare he say it, Destiny.
Yes, a travelling troupe of midgets can make a decent stand in for actual Destiny, if you're as eager as Rupert was. He slid his right foot forward into a sideways stance, copied diligently from endless cowboy novels. Behind his hat and his glasses, he flashed an evil, mocking grin.....well, a 'help me my spleen is rupturing' grin, but he was working on it.
He decided he needed something badass to say before he shot the old guy. He'd have to reload Diabolus before he could shoot, but he figured he was just so damn cool that he could quickdraw, reload and shoot before the old man had a chance to react, possibly whipping up a small soufflé in the process. He changed his mind and decided such an obviously impressive feat would be better highlighted by maintaining the icy hard, silent demeanour he had projected since his almost-but-not-quite-triumphant door raid.
There was a tense moment of silence as Rupert reached for his gun. This was followed by several more such moments. His fingers twitched on the handle of Diabolus, and again his mind mentioned something about his right arm. But with his left hand still holding the newspaper to retain maximum output on the Badass-O-Meter™, he didn't really worry about it.
However, as the tension snapped and the two gunfighters drew their weapons it all became suddenly, painfully clear as Rupert remembered that he'd dislocated his right shoulder. Spiteful over being ignored, his shoulder decided it'd retroactively hit him with the last 3 minutes worth of pain all in one hit.
To say that Rupert squealed and cried would have been an unfortunate understatement. It was more like a spontaneous combustion of pain and writhing, but with the advantage of being an octave higher than human hearing.
14-11-2002, 07:18 AM
(OOC: Ok, just a quick note before I post... both Femme and myself are VERY happy with the sort of turnout we've had for Mentiras, and the effort that has been put in, and I'm glad that the speed of posting seems to be neither 'dead' nor 'inhumanly frequent'.
However, many of our players have RL issues, mostly work-related, to attend to at this time, and thus, should a 'posting spree' arise, several characters could get left behind and out of the action.
I really, really don't want this to happen. While the posting speed, right now, isn't exactly insane, I'd still appreciate it if we could all give a thought to going at the speed of the slowest man, as it were. Especially to avoid those nasty little situations where you log on in the morning and there's 40 new pages of interaction posted by all of three characters, bringing the episode right up to its end while your lil' piece of protagonist pie is still back in the second area. This becomes even more of a problem when considering the wide range of player timezones involved in an online RPG - for example, while the East Coast lot might all be up at the same time and posting like crazy, any poor soul over in Oz would probably be forced to slumber through most of it.
Hah, I'm sure we've all had it happen, and I myself have had to leave many RPGs because of it (------- GMT), so this is just a comment to stop us from 'slipping', really. If we all chip in, it'll go just fine.)
Colt sprang into action just in time to avoid another mess of snide insults and confusion amongst the passengers. Placing himself between the two 'gunfighters', with each hand raised to a foot or so away from their respective faces, he began his sentence by shouting loudly over any potential babbling from the bystanders.
"People, PEOPLE! The Cliffton Law Enforcement Office has an announcement to make!!"
The passengers seemed to have lowered their chatter to a low, rumbling mumble-fest. Colt saw fit to lower his voice to a loud and authorative conversational tone - the tone he liked to call his 'Business Voice'.
"As some of you may already have guessed, the plans Mad Dog Juarez has for this here train involve that whole hunk o' gold you'll see in the dozen or so cars in front of you."
Beginning a stride up and down the aisle of the car, the sheriff continued. "The gold being shipped today is due for delivery to the First Bank of Cliffton, which y'all can reach by making a right at the junction up ahead. However... if this here train were to go straight on instead, then make a left at the next fork, we'd pass dangerously close to Mad Dog's hideout."
Colt went on. "Obviously, Juarez hasn't boarded this train yet. If his old raids are anything to go by, he'll make his entry at the front, smack-bang next to the driver's box. Naturally, it'd be a darn shame if all that gold fell into the hands of bandits, and we're here to stop that."
Sensing a general apathy from his captive audience, McEdwyn hardly felt the need for his last warning. However, duty bound him to give it anyway. "Sheriff Ermingard and myself hereby urge y'all to stay clean away from Mad Dog. Now I know the bounty on his ugly unwashed head's more than most of you will earn in your natural lives, but he's still a dangerous and highly wanted man, and with officers of the law on the scene, it's obvious who should handle this dangerous task."
What Colt had forgotten was that mentioning a bounty in front of a pack of semi-outlaw drifters was sort of like mentioning a lard sandwich to a convention of 40-year-old men who never moved out of their parents' houses.
14-11-2002, 09:52 AM
Jorge warbled. It was the part of the song where the tension was highest and the previously old man with his pants around his feet was now a youngin' with his pants around his feet.
And he was reaching for his unloaded weapon.
Squinting further than he already was, he parted his lips in a practiced "Badass Scowl"(TM). He had practiced it for hours in the mirror until he had gotten it perfect to his liking. The only problem was, with his bad eyesight, he never realized that it looked more like the face one would make if constipated than a "Badass Scowl"(TM)
Then he realized that he should patent the name someday.
The man in front of him wavered in and out of fuzzy focus, his arm twitching in the air over his weapon.
Then he grabbed it and drew. The weapon flew across the train car as the little man shrieked in pain. Furio flinched from the sound, so high pitched that it must have gone into ranges he couldn't even hear.
A knee jerk reaction came as he tried to protect his ears from the sound and he activated his right hand which he had previously placed on his weapon in case he would need it. This resulted in a chain reaction.
1) He drew his weapon.
2) His triggering mechanism fired it automatically as it came up, but luckily he simply shot the floor of the train as he was bent over trying to protect himself from the sound.
3) Unluckily, he was bent over trying to protect himself from the sound, and his gun continued to move upwards until it hit him square in the forehead.
4) He staggered backwards until he stepped on his own coat.
5) Poor poor Paco. He never had a chance to run away from the falling Furio. To the relief of the other midgets, he only broke a leg in the process.
It was already a bad day as far as Furio was concerned.
As he lay there in a daze with the head of a tiny guitar digging into his back, he vaguely heard a few words while he tried to clear his mind.
"....Mad Dog. ....bounty .....more than most of you will earn in your natural lives..."
He then heard a high-pitched TWANG as the firing mechanism in his arm snapped.
He slowly regained his senses and sat up, then tried to push himself standing with his arms. He struggled briefly and then righted himself, and proceeded to brush the dust off himself.
His right arm was still made out of metal.
He hit himself in the knee, and with a grunt, he fell to the ground once again.
"I don' s'pose somebody could help a man out 'ere?"
14-11-2002, 11:36 AM
Arthur listened to the announcment with only a modicum of concern, he had nothing that could not be replaced (barring his own life) and felt that he could probably come to terms with the outlaw through parlay, combat, by hook or crook or what have you. The clatter with the gun, the shriek, and the gunshot caused him to grit his teeth which was just as well as he might have bitten his tongue off otherwise.
With the mildest "garumph" he tore open another biscuit and used the polished knife to spread some preserves and butter on the warm bread.
This is idiocy! How is it, Arthur my good friend, that you manage to surround yourself with such maniacs? Let's just get off this train in one piece and get back to the Silverado. This whole ordeal has been an excercise in futility anyway!
14-11-2002, 01:02 PM
Amidst the commotion, Ferris kept his cool...his dead eyes scanning the gunfighters in the isles and the sheriff’s interlude which had somehow resulted in the death of a midget.
The snow haired man shook his head slightly as the muscles in his jaw slacked, a scowl spreading across his face.
"Now I know the bounty on his ugly unwashed head's more than most of you will earn in your natural ..."
~Dammit, sheriff...~ Ferris thought ~...Tell the world.~ He could already envision the absolute mess he'd be facing.
Without a word, Ferris rose from his chair, gathered up his coat and hat and slid past the lawman towards the table at the other end of the train car.
" Anybody up for a game of poker?" Neither a lucky man or a gambling man, Ferris had no use for the game...but the table might be of some use when the bullets started flying.
"Deal, boy." The wily old bounty hunter snapped at Irving as he rapped his knuckle on the side of the table. "...and you try and take me for a loop you'll find a lead weight in your head." He muttered, taking a seat at the table facing the doorway.
((OOC: And thanks Mags! I know between school and work it's sure tough for me to keep up.))
Poison thudded in her gut. It was the emotional poison of hatred, anger, and fear all mixed together. It sat like heavy ice in her stomach.
Annie clenched her jaw, reached down to lift her precious cargo from the floor and hug it to her chest. The box didn't even touch her lap; she kept her grip on it, fearfully certain that it would become one more thing Juarez took from the children.
She wanted to hurt him.
She wanted to hurt him badly.
Twice monthly he came to the orphanage, twice monthly one of the children was hurt by him, and twice monthly he emptied out most of their money. "Protection money," he called it.
The only thing we need protection from is low lifes like him and his stupid friends. If I could I'd... She grit her teeth, tried to cool her temper. Resistol tipped low on her brow and hid her face. Her fingers tightened on the box.
He's coming here for the gold? Isn't the money he takes from the orphanage enough? I wish I could kill him.
Doing her best to keep her cool, she took two deep breaths and focused on the commotion in the car. She listened to the sounds until her anger filtered away.
Well he isn't getting this medicine. He'll have to pry it out of my cold, dead fingers. I hope he tries. I'll beat the tar out of him. I'm sick and tired of what he's doing to the kids. They're too little to stand up to him, that big bully.
Absently, some part of her mind commented that she was pretty little herself. Annie paid it no mind, felt the weight of her yoyos at her hips.
"Well now, Sherriff, I'm sure that with you here, we'll all be fine. Heck, so there's a little upset over your entrance. That happens to the best of us." Offering the car at large a bright, cheerful smile, she shrugged. "We'd best do what the Sherriff wants us to do, folks. After all, he's the professional."
She was going to get that bounty and with it she would get all the money Mad Dog Juarez had taken from her and her family and then some. That idea was definitely pleasing.
((ooc: *barf* Kiva sucks! Can you believe that I just spent a couple hours running around town and now I'm sitting here in the library, trying to get some kind of post done? They say to me "fifteen minute limit!" and I'm like "screw you, nobody else wants to use the computers!" Do they listen? Nooooo. I'd write something better, but evil librarians rar rar rar.))
14-11-2002, 10:12 PM
What a mess.
The scrawny lad had hurt his shoulder and now the damn half- blind man hurt his knee. Normaly Doc would've probably went to help either of them right away, but with all this shooting this was hardly a normal situation.
After a few seconds of looking at the poor sod twitching on the ground, the old midget finally decided to help him out. Leaning beside the miopic cowboy and helping him straighten up, Doc opened his instruments case.
"Ye should watch what ye're doin' 'fore shootin' like that son. Now tell me 'xactly where ye hurt so I can check this out."
It probably wasn't much. Usualy he didn't like going out of his way when there wasn't a need for surgery, but this time he'd have to make an exception. With all the commotion about Mad Dog, the last thing Cliffton's (where his home belonged as well) Sheriffs needed was injured people lying around.
(OOC: woo! I managed to find myself a free time spot!)
16-11-2002, 04:59 PM
Normally Mickey would have been enfuriated by someone stealing his paper, but this time he considered it a wise investment. The sight of the man standing there in nothing more than his boxers wasn't very pretty, and a newspaper was a very small price to pay to be rid of that sight.
Mickey just shook his head at the events that had occured after that.
"I'm surrounded by such idiots..." He said as he stood and headed for the closest door out of that compartment. Once outside he leaned himself on the railing and took a deep breath. He was quite relieved to be away from all that nonsense. Never before had he been witness to such baffoonary by so many people in such a small area. If he stayed in there any longer he was sure he'd have gotten a headache.
16-11-2002, 05:38 PM
Irving just smiled at the man who sat down opposite of him and nodded and held his mechanical hand palm up so everyone could see where the cards were coming from.
" Cheat? Oh I don't need to cheat, sir. I'm good enough to win honestly." Irving said, chuckling a little bit as he dealt the cards from his Deck Dealer, the five cards sliding smoothly along the table to the older man, who looked like a bounty hunter to Irving. He didn't like bounty hunters much, but he respected them. His respect came from the fact that they dealt with criminals way more efficiently than the sheriffs tended to. He disliked criminals mainly because they tended to steal all the money he earned. Every. Single. Time. The dislike came from the fact that he had been shot to the chest by one when he had won a rather large sum of money in a game, which the hunter had just earned from a bounty a quarter hour earlier. Now he did understand that one might get upset from losing that kind of money so quickly, but you shouldn't get shot for it. That was the spirit of the game.
" The Lord gives. The Lord takes." Irving said to himself as he picked up his cards with his real hand, which had its sleeve rolled down as well. People tended to get really distrusting if he played with his mechanical hand, especially if they'd seen how fast he could make a card appear in his hand.
Irving looked at his hands for a moment. 7 of spades. 7 of hearts. Queen of diamonds. 10 of diamonds. And finally, 2 of clubs.
Looking up at the bounty hunter opposite of him, Irving smiled.
" How much would you like to play for? Start for 5 dollars? I'm sure both of us are just playing to kill time aren't we?"
"We'd best do what the Sherriff wants us to do, folks. After all, he's the professional." the previously nervous girl said and Irving couldn't help but to chuckle at the word "professional". He was a professional. The sheriff had to look up from a dictionary to understand the meaning of the word. And the dictionary would have his picture where the word was. Well atleast in time, it would have. Not everyone had realised his genious yet. Yet.
17-11-2002, 09:45 AM
A traveler must have the back of an ass to bear all, a tongue like the tail of a dog to flatter all, the mouth of a hog to eat what is set before her, and the ear of a merchant to hear all and say nothing. It would seem as though Carrie-Lynn were more fit to be a wanderer who traveled the desert planet Alamo than being an upholder of its rudimentary laws. As she strode along the top of a car carrying iron ore near the middle of the gigantimous locomotive, the young sheriff could hear sharp yelps and hollers over the clickity clacks of the train’s steel wheels against the track. Carrie-Lynn turned to face the steadily growing commotion and came to see a fairly large group of mounted ilusões; around twenty to twenty-five or so, she’d estimated, galloping their way towards the train.
She ‘hmm-ed’ thoughtfully as they sped towards the conductor's box of the large freight train and raised 10 Paces up above her head.
Right on time, Mr Tambourine Man.
A loud shot rang out, Carrie-Lynn’s signal to Colt to get his act together and act more like the lawmen that he was instead of the giggalo he wished to be.
(OOC: Heya! Quite sorry you haven't heard more from me, I've been quite busy the past week. But good job everyone, NIGHTDARK RULEZ!!!1!!!)
17-11-2002, 12:10 PM
Something in Colt's brain suddenly clicked into place, setting an entire mental production line in motion. The signal had been sounded, and now it was time to leap into action like the 'dashing hero' he 'knew' himself to be.
Without time for so much as a word, Colt raised the triple-barreled Fire Eyes above his head with both hands, cocked it loudly, and, before the silence produced by a loaded weapon fully came into it's own, fired directly above.
His 'plan' was to create a short-cut to the roof through a newly-made hole in the car's skylight. The 'consequences' were that he ended up choking wildly as sawdust and shards of glass fell down atop him.
"Thank god for this hat, or else I'd probably have a brain full of broken window pane by now."
Partly to spare himself the embarrasment, and partly to answer his partner's call as quickly as possible, the sherrif shortened his legs by a few inches momentarily, bent his knees, and accounted for no delay between the aforementioned action and his upward, spring-aided launch. After a hasty, yet surprisingly successful grab made for the edge of the skylight's frame, he hoisted himself up to his feet on the iron roof.
"CARRIE!!" he called to his partner, but a small figure on the horizon. Brushing himself off, he awaited her response, but alas, none came.
"CARRIE!!!!" he called again, louder. This time, his call was met with an enthusiastic wave, followed hastily by a hand gesture to the pretty enforcer's right. Following her motion with his eyes, Colt soon caught a glimpse of the impending ambush.
"Damn it, he's early..."
19-11-2002, 11:45 PM
"I hate taking the train."
Maria reminded herself as one eye popped open. She had done her best to ignore all that had been going on around her. From the bumbling man who had dropped his pants to the sheriffs who didn't seem to know what they were doing and where the hell had that midget come from?. Well it didn't pay to get involved with such people...they had a hard enough time saving their own asses when trouble came up.
They sure as hell couldn't be expected to save anyone elses. But the meantion of a bounty had come up...and the two half wits had made sure to state that as loud as they possibly could. They might as well had been in prison and announced their get away plans an hour in advance.
No one was going to get that bounty now. Though it sure would be fun to watch everyone try...
Things were happening and Annie wasn't exactly sure what to do. She stood, slid the box under her seat, and hurried for one end of the car.
Because Annie was Annie, she'd gotten the name of the conducter/server/everything else man. Her problem, undoubtedly, was her unfailing friendliness, even when she should have been hunkered low in her seat, hoping no one remembered her face.
"Mr. Humphrey!" She paused and tipped her hat. "I don't want to be a snitch, sir, but those two men over there, playin' cards," she pointed towards the two men, "well, one of them was carvin' up the side of the seat and I know he probably weren't meanin' no harm, course, but I thought you ought to know."
It took Humphrey less than a second to pat Annie on her silly little hat reassuringly. And then he was striding down the aisle with a purposeful look on his face. It was, Annie decided, probably bad enough that the law was busting up his train, but a couple card players with idle hands he undoubtedly felt he could put a stop to.
Briefly, she entertained guilt over her lying. Then she turned towards the door Humphrey had been standing in front of. Grabbing the handle, she slid the door open and clamped her free hand down on her resistol, lodging it firmly on her head.
First she looked towards the engine. There was nothing that was going to help her in that direction.
Turning her attention towards the caboose, Annie was rewarded with the sight of a small ladder a few feet away from the door. She reached for it, strained her fingers, and brushed them against it.
Desert rushed by and the thick smell of smoke came from the engine, swallowed her for a moment. She reached again, felt her footing slip, and scrambled back to the safety of the door.
Summoning her courage, Annie leaned out the door again and stared at the ladder.
"Miss Annie?" Humphrey was coming up behind her. "Miss Annie, I'm going to have to insist you close that door and come back to your seat. It's dangerous to open the door while the train is-"
He never finished his sentence. Annie slapped one hand in the doorway and jumped from the train. She twisted, reached for the ladder in her flight-
-and went past it. She streamed by windows, gave a short yelp, and stared at the ladder.
This took approximately two seconds.
Grabbing one of her yoyos, she threw it out, watched it wrap around one of the steps of the ladder. The wire pulled tight, bit into the leather of her gloves. Trailing like a kite on a string, Annie soared up with one kick for momentum, and landed on the roof of the passenger car.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
"Miss Annie!" The conductor's voice was a small, tinny, dry sound in the wind.
"Sorry, Mr. Humphrey!" she called to him before twitching her wrist. The yoyo came loose from the ladder and returned to her palm.
I'm gonna get you know, Mad Dog.
Five minutes into her daring and heroic battle and she'd already almost died. Annie brushed that and logic aside and slipped down between the caboose and the passenger car to stay hidden from the other two on the roof. She peeked out the side and kept her eyes peeled in the stinging wind for her prey.
Something inside her jumped happily.
She loved this part.
((ooc: BWARGH. ...I suck.))
25-11-2002, 01:33 AM
"Ye should watch what ye're doin' 'fore shootin' like that son. Now tell me 'xactly where ye hurt so I can check this out."
Furio squinted menacingly at the man. Well...about as menacingly as if he had dark glasses, a tin cup, and a cane. It came out looking more like the half-hearted gaze of a blind man into a dark cave at night. He growled at the thickly bearded person standing over him.
“I don’t be needin’ yer help or yer pleasantries old man. I got me a bounty to apprehend.”
He struggled to his feet gracelessly, his unmovable right arm making his task that much more difficult. He began brushing himself off just as a shot rang out, outside of the train car, and the sheriff launched himself up to the roof. Glancing outside, squinting so hard you couldn’t stick a needle between his eyelids, he saw a dust cloud, or what appeared to be a large mass of sand-colored lint, moving quickly towards the train.
The bounty was here. Time to cash in his chips.
OOC: Not too into it tonight...but I feel I have to post because this weekend I won't be here. I'll have something better tomorrow night...*looks at clock*...err....tonight.
Nightdark the fearless. Nightdark the vengeful. Nightdark the still depressingly half-naked.
It was slowly dawning on Rupert that in the events that had unfolded since the sheriffs had entered, he had perhaps come off slightly less dashing than he usually did. From the unfortunate (not that it was his fault or anything. It could happen to anyone, he assured himself) botch at a dramatic entrance to squealing louder than he had since the infamous 'Zipper Incident', Rupert was beginning to suspect that perhaps the other passengers were looking on him as a bit of a buffoon. A clown. A giullaire. A boy without pants. After all, he had been on the train for a while now and was yet to have intercourse with anything onboard. Tom Black, his favourite character, would have managed to sample a variety of women by now, and the best Rupert had managed was some odd looks from a man drinking tea. He decided very quickly that returning to a state of trouser bearing would be a wonder for regaining the aura of mystique and danger that was rightfully his. And possibly stop the looks.
He shuffled sadly back to his seat, trying not to trip over himself as one of the sheriffs took to blasting away the ceiling. He sat quietly down, his lip quivering as he jolted his shoulder once more, but he managed to swallow another outburst. Carefully, he raised his pants to their fixed and upright position and retied the belt. That done, he began to survey the cabin once more as things continued to happen without him.
One could reasonably assume that Rupert would have been humbled by his humiliating experience....but Rupert was far from a reasonable person.
25-11-2002, 09:22 AM
The veritable explosion of gunfire and the falling debris caused Macabe to flinch and reflexivly put his hands over his ears. When he opened his eyes he saw that his teacup had fallen to the floor and shattered, worse yet his remaining biscuit had fallen as well and had been covered in dust.
"Very well then, it seems as if non-interference is not an option. My one and only diversion removed, I shall now show all of you how to apprehend a brigand. It requires no tomfoolery, no melodrama, and no SHOOTING OUT THE ROOF, *ahem*. Observe and take notes if you wish."
Arthur appraised the situation at a glance, there had been at least a dozen of these men and probably more at that. Some of them would have to go to the first car to stop the train and a few others would go where the gold was being stored to take out any guards. Undoubtedly someone would be coming here to rob the passengers. He looked at this insane collection of people and pitied the robbers.
"Now, I do not wish to get in the way of the lawmen. I suggest you two go to the head car and make sure they don't stop the train. I will go the opposite direction and take care of anyone coming that way."
On his way out he realized that he could do with some help, his eyes fell on Rupert, well...a human shield anyway. He stopped quickly at Nightdark's seat and put on his best "impressed" attitude.
"Of course I could use some help, a bo...man of your abilities could undoubtedly take on these assailants yourself. Would you be agreeable to helping me take out those bandits?"
25-11-2002, 06:54 PM
Hole in ceiling, bandits attacking train, little girl sneaking off, man trying to make his own plan.
Rook tried to figure out what to make of the whirlwind of action going in around him, contemplating what course of action he should take. Then he came to a farfetched conclusion--maybe the little girl was really his beloved Maria's little sister and by looking out for her he would find his way back to her side again!!!
In his mind, he pictured the girl proudly leading him to a lovely home, her hand clutching his. And then she pointed to the doorway, where a beautiful redhead stood.
Oh... ...oh Rook! You saved my sister!
Of course I did, Maria...and now...I'll be here to protect you, and her. You won't have to steal anymore.
Grinning ear from ear from his daydream, he snuck off after the girl, intent on keeping her out of harm's way. Even in the rare instant that she was perphaps NOT Maria's little sister, he should still help out after all. He rushed past a very upset Mr. Humphrey without even noticing him and sped on. It was about that time that he almost fell out the opened door. With a yelp he clutched onto the doorway.
Glancing back at the train worker, he head him sputtered something about "Miss Annie." But where was she? The roof? Rook backed up a bit, then made a running leap for the ladder. Unlike the girl before him, he managed to make it and quickly scrambled up to look about the roof area curiously. He didn't see the little girl anywhere.
26-11-2002, 06:47 AM
(OOC: Controlled a few people a little bit here, sorry! But I guess that's what GMing's all about, or something.)
Carrie-Lynn and Colt were now within a stone's throw of each other, thanks to the young woman taking initiative and backtracking towards the car her partner was perched on. Half-shouting over the noise of enormous wheels thundering along tracks, she began to speak.
"He's here earlier than we expected!"
Colt replied in a puzzled tone. "So, uh... why'd ya run back here?"
"Because you ASKED me to!"
"That's not what ah meant when ah was waving..! Ah meant, uh..... waving!"
What could have escalated into an argument was interrupted suddenly by a sudden shaking movement rippling along the passenger car. Judging by the two riderless horses slowing their pace just off the back of the gargantuan vehicle, it seemed safe to assume that two of Mad Dog's cohorts had boarded the train.
"Already?!?" Colt cried in surprise, readying Fire Eyes and ducking down in the gap between cars for cover. He would have had his weapon poised and at the ready in but a few seconds had he not suddenly noticed Annie and Rook perched in the crack like lizards under rocks.
"And just wha're you two doin' here!? Thought ah told y'all to stay back in the car?"
(OOC: ---- you, IC speech styles!)
Finally! Someone who recognised the unimaginable skill and potential that pulsated within his shockingly handsome frame! Rupert was pleased with himself. No matter what befell him, it was apparently still evident that he was a tactical genius.
Did he know the truth? Maybe, somewhere within his narrow little mind. But a lifelong process of mental evolution had hardened Rupert into a creature capable of surviving on whatever sparse and fragile ego nourishment it could.
"...Of course I could take them on by myself. In fact, I'm rather insulted by the insinuation that it is I that should help you like some sort of side kick. Like the uhh...side to your kick. Like the dancing monkey to your old italian guy with the music box who smells vaguely like sulphur. Like the asparagus to..." Rupert caught himself by surprise and wondered where the hell he was going with that similie. "aparagus to....your....PLATE! Aha!"
Rupert stood up with a flourish that nearly threw him onto the floor and cocked his head back in the position universally reserved for scoffing brazenly at danger. He scoffed brazenly.
"Actually, stand back. I don't want you getting hurt when the real action starts. Leave this to the professional."
He paused, trying to think of what pose best suited his heroic declaration. He suddenly had an afterthought.
"....That's me, by the way. The professional. Yeah."
And Rupert strode off mightily down the aisle, until his arm clipped a seat and caused another ungodly spasm of pain to rocket up his shoulder.
"...Okay, at this point I am willing to give heightened standing to your proposal of a team effort."
26-11-2002, 05:56 PM
(OOC: The long awaited post by Missy! @_@ this took so long to get since she has school and there is a 3 hour time zone difference between us >.> Luckily registration is sposed to open again on the 30th of this month ^^)
Lillian continued staring out the window trying her best to ignore what was occurring around her. She had jerked her head earlier to acknowledge the presence of the two individuals who intruded on the silent ride and caused a ruckus in the passenger car, but slowly lost interest when the male species began preying on a poor little girl.
"For goodness sake, he could be her grandfather," she muttered under her breath. The thought was sickening and it made her mind want to push out the un-welcomed interruption even more.
She had been traveling on foot for the last couple of days—deprived of sleep because of Mick-- and wanted to rest up before continuing her search, which was now beginning to seem highly improbable. The commotion in the passenger car was causing her to fidget, and the more she fidgeted, the more agitated she got. Twice she had looked over in search of Mick, so that she could give him a piece of her mind--or a taste of Arcadian Bliss--but found other oddities instead. The deceased midget wasn’t a matter that retained her attention for long, but the senile man with his pants down was a different story altogether. Lillian coughed slightly to clear her throat of whatever was building there and realized that her eyes had followed him back to where his seat was. Never had she been exposed to such indecency. She found his current state amusing, and were those hearts on his boxers?! She was too far back in the car to tell, and thought it best not to inquire. She simply diverted her gaze elsewhere, convincing herself that it was Mick’s paper that she recognized and wondered at.
Still lost in thought, the sound of someone mentioning ‘bounty’ shot her out of her silent reverie. Lillian finally noticed that the passenger car wasn’t as dense as it was when the ‘Law’ came. She could smell trouble from the facial expressions of some of the other passengers and merely smirked, getting up from her long taken seat to find Mickey.
“If they drag me into this mess, they better hope that a miracle ‘ll come yonder.”
30-11-2002, 12:53 AM
Rook reddened when he realized that the girl he was searching for was right beside him and winced a bit at his own stupidity.
Daydreaming again! Gotta stop that!
Thinking quick after hearing the sherrif berate them for their disobeying, he gave the lawman what he hoped to be a reassuring smile.
"Oh, sir....little miss..ah...Annie! Yes! Miss Annie here was just...well, she wanted so badly to see a real sherrif crack down on criminals, she couldn't help but want to see a prime example like you go at it, sir! And me, having once being a deputy myself, offered to escort her as to keep her safe while she observes you getting those low down criminals!"
Somehow this launched Rook into another faint daydream, where he somehow saved the day for the two sherrifs, the beautiful female one in particular. But he dismissed it quickly. Afterall...she wasn't Maria.
Clearing his head of Maria-filled daydreams, the dark haired man looked expectantly at Colt, hoping he'd at least let them stay. Annie probably had a reason to sneak off into such a dangerous situation, and it would do no good to punish such courage. Why, if she continued to be so brave, she could one day become just like Maria.
"Shouldn't you be apprehending the villains right now?" Her voice was slick and sharp, eyes narrowing and going flat.
So that no one could see in.
Annie didn't wait for Colt to answer. She didn't wait for the quiet, half-stammered excuses from the man beside her. Her blood was soaring, pumping, hot and ready for a fight.
She loved it.
Perhaps that was the most terrible thing. She truly, honestly loved it. She loved the rush of the wind, the smell of smoke and dust, and the knowledge that she was about to finally catch Mad Dog. ...As long as nobody got in her way.
With a determined growl, Annie turned and crawled up the ladder next to her, yanking herself onto the roof of the car and crouching low. She peered into the dust, into the wind.
I'll find him. I'll get him.
30-11-2002, 08:14 AM
Exasperated, Carrie-Lynn threw up her arms, not just at Colt, but the whole situation they’d found themselves in. No one was obeying Colt’s orders: no one stayed in their seat, there were people scaling the train cars, and a lunatic of man clad in heart boxers. It was going to be a long day.
Quickly, she turned from Colt and headed off back down the line of train cars, and even passed the young Annie, who crouched low and determined just above a ladder. Carrie-Lynn hopped to the car right in front of the one Annie was perched upon, and continued her walk to the front of the train. It was to take quite awhile though, seeing the train was dozens of cars long. As she strode along the roof of the fourth roof from the last car, Carrie-Lynn heard a loud thud; correction, three loud thuds. She turned quick to see what they were and found three of Mad Dog’s henchmen who all smelled of grease and grime and looked like they’d been rolling around in such things, as well. They stood upon the second car opposite Colt and Annie and moved to “take care of them.”
“AHEM!” Carrie-Lynn aimed for one of the goon’s lower legs and pulled the trigger of Ten Paces. Her shot was dead on, and on of the men screamed out and clutched his calf. He lost his balance, and ultimately fell off the train. This left two goons for Colt and Annie, but she didn’t rule out the probability of more to come.
01-12-2002, 04:36 PM
Macabe graciously stood aside and waved Rupert ahead of him, he gave a faticious smile of graciousness in order to avoid what would have been a heart-attack inducing series of guffaws.
Forgive me sir, I would not dream of insulting you. Naturally someone with your prowess should lead the way. I'll follow you and try to stay out of your way. Perhaps I could learn something from you, not to presume anything of course.
He waited for his "partner" to move ahead.
(OOC: Pen2, I can see it now. Rupert stumbling around barely avoiding getting killed and Macabe using his augmented reflexes to kill the bandits, then letting you take the credit. :lol: Sorry if I take too long to post as I am in Aruba and dont have much time to be online.)
03-12-2002, 11:30 AM
Colt didn't even have to move his knee to avoid the bandit's warning shot to his lower leg. He simply shortened it by two inches or so and let the minute steel capsule bounce back off the iron roof below. Being shot at was something a sheriff had to become used to, after all.
However, Colt was rather taken by surprise at the promptness of the other bandit, who raised his revolver and seemed to be aiming right at the sheriff's heart. A trigger-pull of Fire Eyes later, and the outlaw was missing his hand and screaming like a rhino caught in a mousetrap, assuming that the mousetrap in question was the size of a small elephant.
"Avoid killin' if ya can!" Colt chirped, re-cocking the huge three-barrelled shotgun and turning it towards the other assailant. "Ah'm not sure whether karma exists, so ah'm doing this to play it safe."
He casually strolled up to the two bandits, one of whom was clutching at the bleeding stump of his arm, the other of whom was standing fast, yet frozen in place. Colt administered a swift slap to the bleeding outlaw's face, knocking him off guard, and followed up with a swift kick to his rear end which knocked the unfortunate man straight off the side of the train. Once again, his attention was turned to the remaining man.
"... Don' ya think tha's a good idea?"
Colt's knee maid painful contact with the bandit's testicles, and sent him staggering backwards. Backwards through the open skylight, and into the belly of the train car, which contained lots of lovely people to hold up and/or shoot.
"Ah, hell!" Colt exclaimed. Any sequence of events designed to make him look badass always seemed to end in some kind of minor neutralising calamity.
03-12-2002, 12:21 PM
Hushed whispers and giggling echoed from the back cart. People were talking amongst themselves about the recent events. Some were praying that the sheriffs would take care of everything, some were gossiping about the bounty, some were mothers trying to keep their children seated and sheild them from the danger that could possibly be lurking right outside their windows.
Maria was staring out the window content with knowing that when she had been working she had been better then any of the clods out there now. Back with Jared she would have caught the bounty *before* he had a chance to even see the train.
It was easier that way. Less public interference and less chance of an innocent getting hurt.
*CRASH* Blinking Maria turned her gaze to the door as a very dust covered someone came bursting through it and stumbled in holding his crotch and sobbing as he tried to hold his gun. He turned the gun on Maria and tried to squeek a command to the obviously uninterested Maria who just arched an brow. He was serious?
"P-put yer hands up little lady... The man said hesitantly trying to keep his gun steady. But luck just was not smiling upon the bandit that day.
One of the childern who had been running up and down the aisle of the train stepped forward bravely and planted a good kick to the would - be bandit's shin. He gave a yelp of pain and dropped his gun stumbling straight into the lap of his target.
"Oh please!" The bandit struggled to stand but instead got a swift elbow to the top of his head. The bandit's world burst into stars and he was then dropped unceremoniously to the floor.
"Now I've got grime all over me." Maria frowned and reached around the unconcious bandit the gun he had dropped.
"Wonder how much I could get for this...?"
((ooc: And then I didn't post for quite some time. Uh... sorry about that.))
More men were pouring onto the roof of the train. Annie grit her teeth, recognized two as some of the goons who had a habit of busting up her home at the slightest provocation.
Grabbing her yoyo, she jerked her wrist. The wire gleamed deadly in the hot sun, wrapped around one of the bandits hands. She pulled tight.
The bandit, who had just gained his footing on the roof, screamed ask his fingers parted with his hand, blood pouring down his arm. He staggered back and fell from the train. His drawn out shriek disappeared with distance and the train's steaming cry.
The other bandit grabbed her fallen yoyo and yanked on it, sending her stumbling to her knees. He reached for his gun and she scrambled back.
Solid ground gave way to air. Annie grabbed the edge of the roof and clung for dear life, toes of her boots tapping on one of the windows of the passenger's car.
She looked up, only to see the bandit staring down at her with a wide smile.
"Why, Miss Annie!" he called cherfully. "Fancy seeing you here. You were late with yer last payment." Sighting down the barrel of his gun, down towards her wide eyes, his grin turning vicious. "Well... bye now."
"Of course. You're right. No wait...my rightness pre-empted whatever possible rightness you could have mustered, hence I am the one who was right all along and you are merely a newcomer to my repository of rightness. I call it 'Nightdark's House of Right'. You may now bask in my glory."
Rupert quaffed a few painkillers that he always kept handy for the frequent incidents when he hurt himself (or as he called it in his buisness, 'an owie') and set to preparing for his triumphant charge down to the back of the car. This consisted of putting actual ammunition in his shotgun, a long and arduous process involving much arcane swearing and mystical thumping. He tried shoving the shells in the trigger guard without much success. Eventually he worked out the concept of breech-loading (for about the thirteenth time that week) and decided he was ready.
Rupert wasn't stupid, but....well, actually he was. Mindbogglingly stupid. It was a miracle he'd worked out which hole to breathe through. But his particular brand of stupidity did not extend it's titanic reach so far as to leave him oblivious to basic probabilities. With him and the tea guy attacking, that was still 50% of all bullets heading the other way directed at him. Possibly more, Rupert figured, because he was just so damned sexy that other men would want to kill him immediately out of jealousy.
So a new possibility occured to him. If he got the other black-clad man in on the fight, his chances of not getting shot increased rapidly, especially due to his rival's increased surface area.
It was decided. What exactly was decided, Rupert wasn't really sure. But he was pretty sure something had been decided and that it could sort of catch him up later if he went on ahead.
So he grabbed the half-blind Furio, spun him, and propelled him down the corridor ahead of him. He left the Macabe to his heroic rearguard action and leapt forward, his minds eye conjuring the sunlight glinting at just that right angle to shine off his glasses as he dived towards the foes he knew lay ahead.
It just so happened that this foe turned out to be a door. And that this door opened onto nothing but the empty air that rapidly rushed through the train's slipstream. Falling screaming through a doorframe out the back of a speeding train could have happened to anyone, Rupert would later muse. It was because he was just so damned cool that his claw managed to catch the inside of the doorframe and that Furio managed to blindly clutch at his leg. Or sheer dumb luck, call it what you will. Whatever your chosen stance, the end result was that Rupert and Furio were left hanging out the back of a moving train as the wind tried to very sternly convince them that a high-speed exit would be a great idea.
And that Rupert's pants were starting to slip again.
12-12-2002, 12:00 PM
Arthur Macabe: War Veteran, Airship Captain, Wealthy and respected gentleman, babysitter
The latest title was his own addition as he was quickly beginning to rue his idea of using Rupert as a human shield. His morale had further been shaken by being added to the idiot's "repository of rightness", wondering if the lunacy was contagious.
"Bother and bother. Brilliant plan sir, the bandits don't stand a chance. Might I be as crazy as to propose pulling you in?"
He had extended his left hand when he felt a gun being pressed against his soft, jiggling underchin, one of the bandits had actually managed to get the drop on him!
"Back off nice and slow or I'll ventilate your head for ya."
Macabe's physical reaction was so fast that he actually had no time for a witty come-back. His hands flashed like lightning and snatched the barrel of the gun, wrenching it from the bandit's hand and hurling it foward, just barely missing Rupert's face.
Free from the threat of death for the moment Arthur began to grapple with the rogue. Macabe was desperatly trying to keep one hand free for Rupert to grab, he felt slightly responsible for "Nightdark's" safety, one thing was taking advantage of a simpleton, another was to cause his death.
14-12-2002, 06:17 PM
Though he did have a short--very short-- career in law enforcement, Rook was none too eager to join in the gun slinging and fighting. It was always so messy, and people got hurt, and from his experience the person who got hurt most was himself.
However, on the other side of the car Annie was suddenly dangling and about to be shot square between the eyes. Without another thought he hopped onto the train roof instead of hanging on the ladder as he had been. There was no way he could just let Annie, who was of course most likely really Maria's younger sister who had been sent out to search for him, get shot.
Dodging a few shots from bandits attempting to scramble up to join the fight, Rook considered his options. He could shoot the man... He could say something witty and THEN shoot the man...
But simplest was always best.
Instead of the drawn out dramatic sequence his mind was already setting up, the dark haired man rushed forward and ran straight into the bandit. The gun went off, narrowly missing Annie and the bandit was sent flying over her head. Not faring much better, Rook ended up falling flat on his face, barely missing the edge of the train. With a wince he pushed himself up and offered the yo-yo kid a hand to help her back up.
21-12-2002, 11:44 AM
(OOC: You are all so wonderful and I love you a lot!
Just to say that, well, Femme and myself won't be around until the 6th or 7th of January now, since our visit starts in less than 24 hours.
"But who'll GM?" I hear you cry. Well, Kiva, the helm's yours while we're away, and anyone else you deem neccesary or worthy to help. Just keep things rolling!
Seeya all later!
21-12-2002, 01:15 PM
(OOC: woo! I'm back! My end of semester projects are finished as well as my period of lazy vegetation that came after.)
Bandits rushed from everywhere. Soon gunshots in the air and the "yippee" of the incoming bandits dominated the atmosphere. One particular ruffian had managed to slip by the backdoor while Macabe and Nightdark were busy at their own struggles guarding the back. That particularly rough looking villain shot through the roof and just as he was about to tell everyone to lay down on the floor, he was astounded by the amount of midgets that were aboard the train.
"What the f...?" Was the only thing he had the time to say before a grisly old midget rushed at him with a surgical hatchet while pushing a mad scream of bloodlust and anger. Unfortunately for the midget, the bandit wasn't stunned long enough and he got a strong kick in the stomach that sent rolling to the side, thanks to the bandit's mechanical right knee.
But one of the Doc's main qualities was that he was quite resilient, and thus he struggled back to his short legs and began rushing at the bandit who was further down the alley. "Ye bloody bastard! AAARHH!" The midget leapt on the ruffian's back, his hands wrapped on his face and his tiny legs on each side of his waist.
22-12-2002, 05:28 PM
OOC: Internet is down Kiva and I will not be around. We love you all so do not fret we just cannot access AB through my net. We will be back before too long. So...um damn! Happy holidays!
((I would like to state now that I AM A FAILURE AS A SUBSTITUTE GM. See, as Sam's previous message states, the computer went BOOM. Actually, I think I was talking to Mags on AIM the night it first started messing up. Then Sam and I both got hideously ill. End result: no posting has happened from either of us.
I would like to officially beg forgiveness from Mags and Femme and slink away in shame now.))
((I'm still feeling incredibly lame about not being able to substitute GM or get word to Mags and Femme about my total failure during their visit. Or to any of you. I'm going to continue groveling, thus annoying the hell out of everyone.))
The gun went off.
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
The gun went off.
No, no, no, this isn't happening.
The gun went off.
Not yet, please, not yet!
The wind, the roar of it in her ears, the steady sound of the tracks, the distant fighting, all of it bled away. All she could hear was the gun.
The gun went off.
Instantly, there was a flash of gunpowder in her eyes, burning in her throat, blinding her. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her nose itched horrible. She couldn't hear anything but the steady pounding of her heartbeat in her ears.
The gun went off.
Vision blurry with tears, she opened her eyes and looked up to see what looked to be someone holding out a hand.
The gun went off.
And she wasn't dead.
Clutching the hand offered to her, Annie pulled herself back up on top of the train and lay for a moment, coughing, one hand pounding the top of her hat to keep it on her head. She wiped at her eyes, still stinging from the gun powder and came to a crouch.
Okay. Okay, that didn't exactly go the way I planned it.
26-01-2003, 12:20 PM
Being atop a roof amid gunfire was not the safest place to be. Briefly Rook wondered to himself why he couldn't have just stayed on the train. But the answer was stooped beside him--there was no way he could just let a little girl who could possibly be the beloved little sister of his most treasured Maria go into danger alone and unprotected. It would be shameful to do so.
Still, now that he had her beside him and there was the remote possiblity that the headstrong girl would listen to him...
"Miss...Miss Annie, right? We need to get back in the train, alright? It's safer there."
...she'll probably say no, she looks like a fighter. Just like my Maria.
"I mean, after all, they're boarding the train and it's our duty to help protect the passengers," he added quickly, hoping that she had some sense of justice inside her heart that would hasten her back inside the train and off the roof where they could be shot at from all sides as stinging wind belted them across the face.
(OOC: In the words of Brad Sherwood--where did I go?? Alas, I have been dingy and easily distracted lately, but I return! Sorry it took me so long to post.)
26-01-2003, 03:51 PM
(OOC: Well, it's been a weird decision to come to, but Femme and myself have made the decision to move Mentiras entirely off-boards.
This decision was made for many reasons, though mostly because of the extra publicity and players we could attract by hosting it on an independant site. The new RPG forums, complete with the Mentiras forum, are already set up at http://www.canto-uno.com
Now, here's the thing. If you want to continue playing Mentiras, you can go over there, register, and post in the Play Thread as normal... if you don't, please PM Femme or myself to notify us. Be warned - the new rules state that, in the interests of keeping play speed up, all players must make a post at least twice a week, personal circumstances allowing.
So, it's time to be honest. Are you interested? Are you dedicated? Can you do that? If the answer is no, then I'm sorry, but in the interests of play pace we simply can't accomodate you.
If anyone has any problems or questions, feel free to PM us or post them here. One last notice - if we haven't heard from you within three weeks regarding your character, it will be assumed that you no longer wish to play.
We apologise for any inconvenience this has caused, but we sincerely hope that you will enjoy Mentiras more than ever before at this new forum!)
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