L
LogicfromLogic
Guest
Original poster
St. Joseph, Missouri was plagued by outlaws. None worse however than Jesse James, a strange man that had appeared ten years ago, adopted by the people but he turned on them. He came out as a man named Jesse James, and he was a mean, mean man. He robbed stage coaches, banks, travelers. He and his gang ran the town, running ranchers off their lands, collecting protection taxes. Many stood up to them and many died as another notch in Jesse's pistol. He was a quick draw and a brute, a man to never be crossed. His name rang out through the lands around, papers into other states. A bounty was long placed onto his head, but after years of bounty hunters losing their lives trying to collect on him, his name became legend to those as the King of the Outlaws. But Jesse cared nothing for any of these titles, just one thing; revenge. Two months to the day the town of St. Joseph, Missouri have been blessed with the peace of living a life without Jesse James hanging around. Just two months ago, Jesse moved his outlaws out of those dreaded Thieves Rock and onward for El Paso, Texas.
A young man hopped over a log, running along the thick of the wooded areas. He held the same looks of another man seen in these parts a long time ago. He had the same blue eyes, the same handsome face, only still hadn't managed to completely get rid of his shadow. He had rough skin, and thick light brown hair. Curved eyebrows seemed to frame his face along with those high risen cheekbones. He was wearing a red button up dress shirt with leather wristbands around his forearms, brown leather chaps covered his blue jeans, tucked under were dark leather cowboy boots. A black bandana was tied carelessly around his neck, his buckskin coloured hat swung in back of him, having had fallen off as he fled from the sheriff of the town once he realized who he was.
Two weeks he'd lasted in that town, gathering supplies. But normally he was able to sneak in and out without being seen; but that…that man he'd seen in a red poncho with white designs dancing across the top of it. His black jeans and boots peaked out from under that beautifully woven poncho, a dark brown leather calfskin hat with two leather tethers tied around the top; his shadow covered face was hard to see under his hat. But from what Robert could tell, the man had long dark brown hair with a nice beard to match it that stretched around the lines of his well-defined jawlines, around his chin and up to his hairline. Wasn't long, but was enough there to tell that he was keeping it up. His shirt had been smoky grey, looked like a dress shirt like his own only black. There was a rather nasty looking scar that looked to reach down from the corner of his left eye that ended just short of his beard.
His heavy study of the man, who'd been sitting at the bar smoking a cigar and enjoying a whiskey, had earned him a bullet wound to his shoulder. Well, it was just a nick, but it was enough to send Robert packing for the hills. He hadn't even seen the man get his gun out! Why was there a need to draw on him? He had posed no threat. Anyways, that was when the sheriff suddenly recognized Robert and started to give chase. This man looked so much like his brother, who'd died ten years to the day. Red had killed him in cold blood, though he never saw the body, just lots of blood. They'd found Clover Cypress, in terrible condition. After that, Robert knew that they had to stop Red at any cost; his entire family had been officially slaughtered by the man.
The sheriff was a fast rider, and without a horse, Robert was made to look like a fish out of water. The race didn't look fair, but Robert was a fast runner. and he knew the area better than the new sheriff (the old one had been gunned down by a bounty hunter who found out that his head was wanted for murdering his family) for only a short two years but he was as dumb as it gets.
He had made it all the way to the rocks with no problem, where the sheriff did not dare venture to. He knew who and what was hiding there, and turned his horse around almost immediately made his horse go the opposite way. A couple guards laughed loudly as they saw the hair-brained sheriff running. Making it up the ridge, he brushed himself off and sighed.
"Sorry guys, I didn't get what all we needed. I got side tracked by someone…," he started as everyone came out of their tents, stopping what they were doing. "Oh, has Wrangler finally found love after all these years?"
"Was she prurdy?"
"Was he handsome?"
"Where'd you meet em?"
"When can we meet them?"
Robert had enough of this. "Alright you lot of idiots! I haven't found anybody…nobody I want to date at least, and not someone that I'd ever ant to see in this part of the states. But I saw him…he's in that town right now," Robert looked at the outlaws (known as 'The Uglies'), with a very serious expression on his face. The person he'd spotted in town may very well mean trouble for all of them; this man had over sixty people on his notches.
A young man hopped over a log, running along the thick of the wooded areas. He held the same looks of another man seen in these parts a long time ago. He had the same blue eyes, the same handsome face, only still hadn't managed to completely get rid of his shadow. He had rough skin, and thick light brown hair. Curved eyebrows seemed to frame his face along with those high risen cheekbones. He was wearing a red button up dress shirt with leather wristbands around his forearms, brown leather chaps covered his blue jeans, tucked under were dark leather cowboy boots. A black bandana was tied carelessly around his neck, his buckskin coloured hat swung in back of him, having had fallen off as he fled from the sheriff of the town once he realized who he was.
Two weeks he'd lasted in that town, gathering supplies. But normally he was able to sneak in and out without being seen; but that…that man he'd seen in a red poncho with white designs dancing across the top of it. His black jeans and boots peaked out from under that beautifully woven poncho, a dark brown leather calfskin hat with two leather tethers tied around the top; his shadow covered face was hard to see under his hat. But from what Robert could tell, the man had long dark brown hair with a nice beard to match it that stretched around the lines of his well-defined jawlines, around his chin and up to his hairline. Wasn't long, but was enough there to tell that he was keeping it up. His shirt had been smoky grey, looked like a dress shirt like his own only black. There was a rather nasty looking scar that looked to reach down from the corner of his left eye that ended just short of his beard.
His heavy study of the man, who'd been sitting at the bar smoking a cigar and enjoying a whiskey, had earned him a bullet wound to his shoulder. Well, it was just a nick, but it was enough to send Robert packing for the hills. He hadn't even seen the man get his gun out! Why was there a need to draw on him? He had posed no threat. Anyways, that was when the sheriff suddenly recognized Robert and started to give chase. This man looked so much like his brother, who'd died ten years to the day. Red had killed him in cold blood, though he never saw the body, just lots of blood. They'd found Clover Cypress, in terrible condition. After that, Robert knew that they had to stop Red at any cost; his entire family had been officially slaughtered by the man.
The sheriff was a fast rider, and without a horse, Robert was made to look like a fish out of water. The race didn't look fair, but Robert was a fast runner. and he knew the area better than the new sheriff (the old one had been gunned down by a bounty hunter who found out that his head was wanted for murdering his family) for only a short two years but he was as dumb as it gets.
He had made it all the way to the rocks with no problem, where the sheriff did not dare venture to. He knew who and what was hiding there, and turned his horse around almost immediately made his horse go the opposite way. A couple guards laughed loudly as they saw the hair-brained sheriff running. Making it up the ridge, he brushed himself off and sighed.
"Sorry guys, I didn't get what all we needed. I got side tracked by someone…," he started as everyone came out of their tents, stopping what they were doing. "Oh, has Wrangler finally found love after all these years?"
"Was she prurdy?"
"Was he handsome?"
"Where'd you meet em?"
"When can we meet them?"
Robert had enough of this. "Alright you lot of idiots! I haven't found anybody…nobody I want to date at least, and not someone that I'd ever ant to see in this part of the states. But I saw him…he's in that town right now," Robert looked at the outlaws (known as 'The Uglies'), with a very serious expression on his face. The person he'd spotted in town may very well mean trouble for all of them; this man had over sixty people on his notches.
"Jesse James has come to the town of El Paso."
