Calamity Crater: New Frontier

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Anglkate, Oct 6, 2012.

  1. Time: 10:23 pm
    Location: Blacksmith Shop
    Mood: Tired and Thirsty


    The sound of the bellows and forge burning hot was heard from the small blacksmith shop in Calamity Crater. The owner, Pete Stonewall, was one of two blacksmiths in the small town of Calamity Crater. His most prized apprentice was his very own daughter, Jolene. Some people frowned upon the fact that Jolene was in such a position, but this was what she loved to do and Mr. Stonewall had only the best intentions for his daughter. He did have his reservations for her love of his work, but he was still proud of her none the less. Jolene's mother, Meredith, was of other opinions, however, and often dreaded the fact that her daughter came home covered in soot and smelling of the metal and fire each evening.

    Beneath the soot and sweat that often covered Jolene, she was a pretty young thing. With dark hair in light waves like her mother and vibrant eyes that mirrored her father's, she was a spunky 23 year old with a wild heart.

    As she tended to the bellows, sweat dripping from her brow and soot smeared across her cheeks and forehead, her father turned toward her. "Eh, lets call it a night, love. You done good work!"

    Standing and hearing a crack down her back, Jolene smiled at her father, "Already? But it's only10:23, father!"

    " it shoudl be it's late. And this old man needs his rest! You go on ahead and I'll clean up"

    "I was actually planning to go out for a bit tonight, father, it's such a beautiful evening! seems a shame to waste it! Mom already knows I plan to be in late. You go ahead home and I'll catch up!"

    Knowing it was useless to argue, her father kissed her forehead and left her be. Finishing with the clean up of things, Jolene locked up the blacksmith shop and headed for a walk down the emptying streets. Overhead the stars shone brightly and she coudl see the familiar signs looming ahead for Blue Belle Saloon. She always had to have her evening drink at ol' Blue. Slipping through the front doors of the place she was greeted with the usual rowdiness of the evening crowd. Weaving through the masses she headed toward the front counter to order her usual drink Whisky, dry.
  2. Time: 10:30 pm
    Location: Desert, just outside of Calamity Crater
    Mood: Hostile

    2005_devil's_rejects_005.jpg Calamity crater, what a shit hole, thought Castor Creed, and if there was one thing Castor knew it was shit-holes. He had seen most of the establishments surrounding and boarding the domes, was born and raised in one, and in his owned goddamned opinion, they were all fucking dumps. The people varied from time to time, but shit runs downhill and the outcast, downtrodden citizens of the boarder lands all had one thing in common: They didn’t live in the Domes, and for that they suffered.

    Against an arid backdrop of burnt out rubble and dust, where red, polluted sky met sand and rock, were the domes. They represented a life that few outside would ever know. Castor Creed was one such individual. He hated his own existence, but he pushed on, eking a living however he could. One might ask: Why even bother living a life like that? But Castor had a goal, had something he held deep inside himself that he would either succeed in or die trying. The tall, gnarled man knelt down where a small puddle had accumulated over the night with cupped hands. The rust colored water was most likely crawling with bacteria , but he drank anyway. After his mouth and dust lined throat were moist, he spat. It had been weeks since he had last seen a town, and in this desert a man could only survive for so long before seeking out proper amenities. To top everything else off, his mount,
    a custom 20th century Harley shovelhead lay smoking in the dirt. The fuel lines has actually melted on to the fuel pump housing and he rolled it doing about 45mph, resulting in the front fork bending. He would need either a blacksmith, or a new bike, but before both he would need a drink.

    About a mile away a wooden stake stuck from the ground, looking like a graveyard marker. Across it were the words "Calamity Crater" under that was "Population" with a number that had been scratched out, and under that a new number had been written. Castor walked past it, entering the town, under his thick leather lined duster were twin 45s for anyone who might try to pull the jump on an out-of-towner.

    Let 'em fucking try

    Steel rimmed, lineman style boots echoed against the wooden planks of the Blue Belle saloon as Castor made his way to the bar, gray strands of greasy hair hanging over his face. He took a seat on an oak stool and told the bar tender to pour him a dark beer.

    "And while your at it, tell me where I can find a blacksmith"

  3. Time: 10:25 PM
    Location: Calamity Crater; "Deerheart Remedies"
    Mood: Cautious


    Darshanna Deerheart, a spiritual lady, stood outside of her home that doubled as a shop. It was a quaint little establishment. Upstairs was her home with the rooms she needed for a spacious living, while the downstairs had her shelves of medicine. As well, she preformed spiritual methods of healing for those who believed in its usefulness. There were beads, feathers and other neat objects that decorated her home, too giving everyone a taste of her native culture. Ever since she was separated from her tribe, this had been her life's purpose. Darshanna enjoyed it.

    With her back to the wall, the tan skinned woman smoked from one of her hand crafted pipes. The smell it produced was delightful. It emitted a fruity scent that tasted just as pleasant for the shaman. She was fond, and proud of her recipes.

    Across the way, she noticed the saloon getting filled with visitors. It must have been that time of the day, when people wanted to unwind after hard days of work. Darshanna never allowed a drop of alcohol to touch her tongue. So, this was where she spent her evenings. Content in her solitude, she'd smoke from her pipe and observe the people around her. Every so often someone would come sit with her. The kids liked to play with her headdress while their parents talked with her about life. These people were... Different. That much was certain. But they brought her joy.

    Smiling to herself, she removed the beastly headdress to set it on a chair sitting beside her. A cascade of hair fell into place, black as night and touching her middle back. Darshanna had a very youthful appearance. Although she was not far from age thirty, she looked like she was eighteen. Many asked for her secret, which was nothing more than having healthy habits. Plus, her family's genes produced many baby faces...

    The last exhale of smoke was a sigh, followed by a whisper: "I foresee a disturbance." Just as she said that, her ears picked up the sound of an engine. A mysterious man came riding in on a motorcycle, and parked it to go into the bar. The vibes she felt from him were... Unusual. He was not from here. Was that the reason she was alarmed? Would he bring ill luck? All the same, he could be a solution to oncoming misfortune. Darshanna still had to practice the ability of interpreting spirits and their messages.

    When she finished her pipe of herbs, she set it down with her headdress and put her thin hands behind her back. The many pieces of jewelry she wore glistened against the candlelight, much like her vibrant eyes of brown. The young shaman's senses were all on alert, hidden beneath a look of calm.
  4. Time: 10:29 PM
    Location: Calamity Crater; Blue Belle Saloon
    Mood: Confident


    Nimble fingers rose to pluck the small splinter of wood, Jack had pressed between his lips as a toothpick, and dropped it into his empty shot glass. With his free hand he slid the five cards forward face down. "I'll fold this one gents. Deal me out for the time being." Those crisp brown eyes looked back and forth to each of the men he was sitting with tipping his head down with a brief nod to each one of them as he did so.

    The scrap of wood pierced the bar room as young mister Caine stood up pocketing his current winnings, which ranged only a meager thirty bucks. Any extra cash in a dump like this was well worth it, especially if it didn't involve sticking your neck out for someone, or worse yet, something to take a shot at. As he crossed to close the gap between himself and the bar a familiar face came into view which only jerked a brief smile across his lips before changing his direction only a bit.

    "When's that old man of yours gonna hire on a pair of hands to stop his pretty little daughter from singeing her hair and charring her hands?" The voice came from her left side and was apparent sarcasm laced with a bit of good humor. Crossing behind her as he finished speaking Jack leaned up against the bar to her right and nodded his approval to the tender to give him his usual shot. He was close enough to get a solid smell of soot from her but far enough to give her the personal space of a close friend.

    The black coat of his was laced with a bit of dust as well as his face, more or less just getting back into town from somewhere on the upper rim. The hat he wore was tipped far enough back that his short cropped brown hair could be seen gracing his forehead, which drew attention to the faint white scar. From the just over the left brow the white line curved down in a half moon shape ending at the stubble on his chin.
    "You know it's rather reassuring that your still as gorgeous as ever Jolene."

    Just as he finished talking his eyes drew their attention to the new man walking into the saloon. He couldn't place the face, but that wouldn't stop him from trying to recall if he'd seen it from some place before.

  5. Time: 10:20 pm
    Location: Calamity Crater, Blue Belle Saloon, kitchen
    Mood: Pleased, but hungry

    Kota slid from under the sink with a wide grin spread across her freckled face and sprung lightly to her feet, a dark smudge across her nose from the work she had just completed. With what seemed like pride she held the disgusting greasy mass she had pulled from the pipe and presented it to the woman who oversaw the saloon's cooking. "This little beauty was the cause of your backup. You really gotta stop throwing your grease down the drain!" She crowed, large brown eyes sparkling with glee. It was good when kitchens needed work done. It meant at the very least you might get fed.

    The willowy little woman grew up in the wastes between the domes, her father never really feeling comfortable enough to settle in any of the small rough towns that sprung up here and there in the ruined landscape. He had been in a dome once. Her mother too. But then something happened and he left when Kota was just a baby. Ever since, he scavenged and kept moving and when Kota asked why he would only say "Because they're always watching." before falling into a long silence. She thought the answer might have something to do with why mama wasn't with them.

    They had moved from place to place, eking out a living by trading what they had scavenged and doing odd jobs here and there. It was a difficult way to grow up, but Kota was a happy child. She didn't mind since she honestly didn't know any different and when she was old enough to realize that, she just didn't care.

    Digging through the sludge in her hand, Kota pulled a small copper ring free from the mass before dropping it into the garbage. She slipped the little treasure into one of her many vest pockets and turned back to the woman. "So, can I get one of them meat pies? I'll be out sitting at the bar!" She grinned widely and all but skipped off.

    Kota spun in the seat as she hopped into it, the promise of food lifting her mood to even greater heights. She peeked down the bar and smiled at the man and pretty woman at the other end.
  6. Time: 10:20; 10:32 pm
    Location: Outside Calamity Crater; Calamity Crater
    Mood: Determined; Weary

    The mutated horse had lasted longer than he expected, the deformed half a head that was growing from its neck hadn't impeded it's ability to trot, much. But the tumor it had in its leg did. The could not longer carry him, and trying to heal it would cost more than it was worth, the gnarly thing had been doomed since its cleft hooves first touched the wasted earth. He put a bullet through the animals skull and took his pack from the cheap saddle that he would also be leaving behind.

    He walked, the city was close enough but the blisters on his feet made the way seem longer. Should have been more careful about that, this will serve as a good reminder for next time. In the distance ahead of him he saw a tall man entering the town also on foot, his steed may have broken down too. His intense blue eyes back tracked the other travelers route until faintly he saw a glint of metal. Noted, he pressed on and made it into town a couple minutes behind the other man. Reilan didn't head straight to the saloon like he wanted, instead he made his way to a shop, 'Deerheart Remedies'.

    There was a young looking woman here in the shop, long black hair, pretty. "
    Evenin'" he said to her, assuming she was the one running the place, and that is was currently taking customers "D'ya have a balm for blisters?" he inquired. His voice, although gravely, betrayed his youth to keen listeners.
  7. Time: 10;33 PM
    Location: Deerheart Remedies
    Pleasant, still cautious


    "Oh, hm, blisters..."

    Darshanna tapped at her lower lip while her mind ran through her memorize inventory. This was exciting, she didn't usually get customers in the evening. This young gentleman served as a good distraction from her worries, too.

    With a smile, she disappeared into her shop, leaving the door wide open. There were some clanks and clicking sounds she made during her search. A finger ran over some little bottles she had lined up neatly on shelves. One with the image of a Lavender flower was taken down and inspected. The cork to the bottle was unplugged so she could have a better look and smell of the scent. All seemed well. It was a good thing she ventured through a pasture of lavender last summer.

    Bottle in hand, Darshanna met the young man back outside where she offered the lavender oil to him. At least, she assumed him to be young. With this one, she could not tell. A customer was a customer, though. So as long as she wasn't selling directly to a child, she was safe.

    "This should do the trick. Also, the stems of dandelions help if you ever come across any." With that said, her lips shaped into a friendly smile while her other hand was held out, waiting for the couple of coins this would cost. Darshanna had affordable remedies. She saw no reason to charge too much when she required so little to be happy.

    "Was there anything else?" she asked him sweetly.
  8. Time: 10:34 pm
    Location: Blue Belle Saloon
    Mood: Relaxed


    With her drink ordered, it was the usual taking in the atmosphere of the saloon and unwinding after a long days work. Her shoulder muscles ached, as did her arms, but it was a good ache from a hard days work. Bringing her drink to her lips she took a shot of the luxurious liquid, feeling the faint burn and crisp taste as it went down her throat. Soon after a familiar voice came from her left "When's that old man of yours gonna hire on a pair of hands to stop his pretty little daughter from singeing her hair and charring her hands? You know it's rather reassuring that your still as gorgeous as ever Jolene."

    Raising a brow she turned her gaze a moment toward the male who had spoken. A faint smirk crossed her own lips as she took another sip of her drink, "My 'old man' doesn't need the hands of a clumsy male to help him. He has a perfectly fine helper who can outmatch any male blacksmith in this town or any nearby town. And aren't we trying to be charming tonight, Jake Caine?" Pouring herself another shot she drank it quickly and let out a content sigh, "Losing money at cards again tonight?" her eyes followed Jake's a moment watching the people enter the Saloon. It was a busy night and there were new faces in town. That was to be expected on the frontier, though. Most cities had people coming and going trying to make a living.

    As her eyes scanned the saloon she came across the usual patrons and servers. Her eyes caught those of Mary Nichols, one of the many saloon girls of Blue Belle. Jolene knew most of the workers of the Blue Belle decently, since she was a nightly patron. A small vice of hers one could say, and another trait her mother detested. She smiled and waved to Mary who gave her a nod in return before attending to her work again. Returning to her forward position, Jolene downed her third shot starting to finally feel the relaxing buzz she was waiting for.


    Time: 10:34 pm
    Location: Blue Belle Saloon
    Mood: Working

    Her name was Mary Nichols, and she was a saloon girl at Blue Belle Saloon in Calamity Crater. Now on the topic of saloon girls, yes they were entertainment for the travelers who came through the towns, but in the more upstanding areas they didnt' double as prostitutes. No, they were merely companions. In most instances the more 'proper' saloon girls would never be caught dead associating with the brothel girls of the streets. However, there were always exceptions, especially in the rough and tumbling towns like Calamity. Mary was one of those exceptions.

    It was a hard world out on the new frontier, and any little bit helped. Besides, this was the life that Mary knew. The owner of the Blue Belle wasn't one to condone the risque habits of some of his girls, but some of them got away with it through 'mutual' payment with him. Mary was around long enough to know that. She may be older, but she still had it. Blue Belle was rather busy on this night and that was fine by her. She worked her charms on the drunken patrons and kept them company under the watchful eye of the owner. However, when the owner wasn't looking she'd take her claim and slip away. What he didn't see/know wouldn't hurt him, and some extra cash on the side couldn't hurt in these times.

    The fellow she was with was nondescript; just your typical run of the mill male looking for some quick pleasure. He had the money to pay (she'd tested it first to make sure it was real). Satisfied, she slid the fee down her bosom and began to escort the male through the crowd. There was a back exit that would do well. Slip outside into the back alleys, find a nice place to do the dirty deed, and be back on her way for more work and merriment. Simple job. If only she'd known--

    The male kept himself hidden in the darkness the entire time, but that was fine by her. A client was a client. He was a bit rough with her, and she had to tell him to slow down a bit more than once, but she had to cater to the customer, right? She'd barely fixed her skirts and fluffed her hair when it all happened. "well, I hope you enjoyed ya little fun time. It's been a pleas'a. Though ya might consider being a bit more proper with a woman. You might get more then--" she turned at that point only to meet the eyes of her partner. They seemed to glow with a sinister gleam that spelled no good. Her mouth opened to scream but nothing came out and she felt an overwhelming sense of terror that left her unable to move. The man, or what may be considered a man, loomed over her like a dark shadow with those eyes and that grin. The last things that poor Mary Nichols ever saw in the mortal world.

    A skilled hand came forward and ripped at her throat pulling her into the shadows with bone crunching force. It was quick, and it was painless, but it was messy. The knife drew its design across her pretty neck, breast, and body. Her organs were displayed to the world with her ovaries taken and a pool of blood forming around her supine form. It was as if she were a human sacrifice to some long forgotten heathen god. Her lifeless eyes bulged from her head showing the terror and fear that encased her in those last moments of conscious life. Even before the misty shadows faded away the flies began to swarm over the fresh body, which remained hidden in the dark alley from watching eyes. Spattered across the brick side wall in Mary's own blood was a message for all to see:

  9. Time: 10:36 pm
    Location: Blue belle saloon
    Mood: Paranoid

    The bartender, a hulking man that looked like he might double as a bouncer on slow nights, began pouring Castor a pint glass of brown ale. It was a busy night, packed to the brim with local drunks and social sippers, he answered Castor without looking up.

    “Yeah, blacksmith is closed for the night, but I saw Jolene order a drink. She’s around here somewhere.”

    Jolene, who the hell is Jolene Castor thought before realizing that the bartender had yet to notice he was a drifter.

    “The darkest we have, nothing compared to those imperial stouts from the north.” He looked up from behind the tap, mid-pour. Castor could see that his presence was out of place here, not so much his appearance but his ‘outsiderness'.

    “but it’ll do in a pinch.” Finished the bartender, taking in Castors road worn look and greasy gray hair for the first time, cautiously, before turning to the next patron.

    2005_devil's_rejects_005.jpg To the sound of tinkling glass, raised ‘barroom voices’ and laughter, Castor upended his glass and finished it in a single, solid gulp. It was amazing how good cold beer tasted after weeks on the road with nothing but stale water to drink. Not being a fan of crowds, Castor stood to leave when he noticed a man looking at him from the other end of the bar. The man was in conversation with a young woman, but his eyes had followed Castor. Castor stared back, he hated being stared at. Maybe it was his paranoid nature or possibly the fact that he was wanted in many districts across the wasted boarder lands. Was this guy a bounty hunter? Or Some local authority trying to pin a bullshit crime on a drifter? Paranoia comes on quick like flash-fires on the open plane. He had that look, the look a lot of those bounty hunter types had. Black coat, hat pushed pack in a cocky manner. Castor wasn’t in any mood to have a staring contest with some local do-gooder, especially when his ride was busted down miles out of the town.

    He walked towards the man, never taking his eyes off him, stopping far enough away to be heard, but not close enough to be a threat.

    “Can I help you, partner? Or you just got somethin’ in yer eye?”
  10. Time: 10:34 - 10:37 PM
    Location: Calamity Crater; Blue Belle Saloon
    Mood: Confident


    "I like to think of myself as charming every night Miss Stonewall." Jake's reply was rather quick to come as he chased the answer with the shot. Once Jolene spoke again a smile couldn't help but break across his face once more.

    "I'm breaking about even for the week with today's stem of good luck. I can't complain to much ya know, once a jobs done I've got nothing more ta do till the next job rolls in." Flipping the shot glass over as he rest it on the counter Jake gave a clear cut motion with his hand over the glass signalling that he was done for the night.

    Noticing he had drawn the attention of the new comer whose face he still hadn't quiet placed Jake stopped leaning against the counter top and stood a bit more barrel chested. Even if he didn't mean it the reaction was supposed to give off a sense of warning or intimidation, and as soon as he realized what he was doing he forced his posture to relax again. Being in the out skirts usually meant eat or be eaten, that was a harsh truth and any little edge one could give themselves they would take, but Jake tried to keep it in his mind that being civil was a far better approach. It wasn't something that was encountered much out here and tended to throw people more off guard then throwing false threats.

    "Looks like my bad habit's drawn attention again.." He managed to squeak out before the stranger came in earshot.

    “Can I help you, partner? Or you just got somethin’ in yer eye?”

    "I'd be lyin if I said a strangers face hadn't drawn my attention, but I meant no harm in it friend." Jake made sure to leave the smile plastered on his face while keeping eye contact. He wasn't going to show signs of backing down but he didn't wanna put off the feeling like he was talking down to the man. "Although I have the strange feelin that I've seen your face before, you been to this town before?"

    Jake offered his hand out toward the man as he shook off that last question. "Don't mind that sharp tongue of mine. The names Jake Caine, so what brings you to Calamity......." Leaving a pause only for the stranger to fill in his name if he would offer it.
  11. Time: 10:35pm
    Location: Deerheart Remedies
    Mood: Grateful, Intrigued

    Reilan was right in both of his assumptions, the youthful lady had gone into the back area most likely to retrieve something for his request. While he heard the clinking and shuffling he took in the details of the shop. First what caught his attention was the smell of some fruity scent, possibly related to the wisps of smoke. Second was the display of the shop which seemed to be some kind of native theme, he found himself wondering if this was actually part of this persons culture or just decoration. As he scanned what he could see of the shop his feet began to complain, his eyes then falling on a chair occupied by what looked like an animal headdress. Weary and curious, he dropped his pack next to the chair and took the headdress into his hands as he sat. Briefly he had the idea that maybe this was some kind of important item to this woman's culture and he shouldn't be touching it, then she came out.

    In her hand was a bottle, and good cheer in her demeanor as she brought it to him. At her arrival he stood up and placed the headdress back in it's former spot, crouching down and retrieving coins from a zipped pocket on his pack. He counted the coins in his hand as he stood up, giving them to her and receiving the bottle at the same time. "
    Thanks for the tip" he said about the dandies. He raised the bottle of lavender in a gesture of thanks and grabbed up his bag and turned to leave but then, remembering the smoke and a pipe he'd seen, half turned back around. "Y'got 'ny 'tbacco?" He had run out and his piercing blue eyes had held faint hope for this minor luxury he allowed himself.
  12. Time: 10:36 PM
    Location: Deerheart Remedies
    Mood: Friendly, scared


    Darshanna grinned at the little collection of coins piled on her palm. Her fingers curled around the money as quickly as a hunting trap would, then she slid them into a little pouch she wore at her waist. Previously, he had her headdress in hand. She didn't seem to mind it. The kind stranger handled it with care and then respectfully returned it to its spot.

    A hand began to wave at him when he turned to leave. No words could leave her mouth, though as he inquired about tobacco. After holding up an index finger to tell him she'd be right back, she disappeared into the shop once more to get an item for him. When she stepped out, she had a woven basket balanced on her hands. In it was a selection of little drawstring pouches she made with an assortment of colourful materials, some even patterned to show some of her Native pride. Dangling from each string of each bag was a bead. Some were shaped like animals, others were plain solid colours.

    "There is tobacco in each one. I make diff-rant sizes too, see?" There was a childish smile on her face when she introduced the product to him. She stumbled over some of the words, too. Although she learned English fairly well, she'd have her moments where she'd have slip ups. Darshanna pointed to the variety of sizes, with the standard small, medium and large. Customers liked different quantities, after all. It would just cost a little bit more to have a bigger size.

    She went quiet afterwards, leaving him to make his decision. At one point, her face turned serious. The smile she had on slowly turned into a thin line while her gaze displayed fear. There was a sick feeling in her stomach and a voice in her mind was alerting her of spiritual danger. Darshanna stood there unmoving, looking as if she was... Lost. Someone needed to snap her out of it.
  13. Time: 10:38 PM
    Location: Deerheart Remedies
    Mood: Cautious, concerned

    Reilan was pleased when the girl went back into the shop, he was certain to get the tobacco. He looked around at the town while he waited, he heard the noise coming from the saloon not far away but other than that there wasn't much stirring. It was eerie and felt familiar, he grimaced and his hand unconsciously drifted down toward his hip.

    He heard feet and turned to look back into the shop and saw the native woman coming out with a basket in her arms and a smile on her face. It was difficult to not smile back as she showed him her items, his mouth quirking into a half grin. After looking at the different bags one medium sized bag with a hawk shaped bead caught his eye. Reaching into the basket he picked it out and lifted it while looking up at the native woman. He could see the fear in her expression and the little fuzzy feeling he was starting to feel evaporated, he must have scared her some how, it wasn't the first time. Looking at her eyes he noticed that maybe it wasn't because of him, even so Reilan was more serious now. "
    Somethin' wrong?" he said as he put some coins into the basket.
  14. 2005_devil's_rejects_005.jpg Time: 10:38 pm
    Location: Blue belle saloon
    Mood: Paranoid

    The man spoke with smooth, relaxed confidence that made Castor cringe. His palms began to sweat as the 45s strapped to his waist seemed to gain weight and density. Questions ran through his mind, paranoid ranting mostly. This wasn't his town and thirty armed men could be waiting just around the corner to beat him senseless and tie a rope around his neck. Hell, even through a fog of paranoid anxiety he could see that, having been ran out of more establishments that he cared to admit. In the instant before he answered, his dead father's voice spoke in a gnarled tone. Castor was never comfortable around people, and he would often hear his father at times like these. Ridiculing, dominating, drunk, abusive, patronizing, hostile. Good 'ol Dad. Ten years dead and Still able to get into Castor's head and break him.

    "What, you scared? Little Castie can't hack it? Get your ass in gear! You'll never amount to shit! You gonna let this local deputy do good-er asshole push you around? You sackless little wimpsuck! I should climb outta my fucking grave already and kill him myself....You're worthless...just like your whore of a mother..."

    The voice of his deceased father sank into the back of his skull and was replaced again with the barroom ambiance. Castor noticed the man had his hand out stretched. His paranoia melted to a cold lump at the bottom of his stomach. He reached out his own wet, sweat dripping hand and shook, threes time in quick succession.

    He appraised the man with a road-worn eye. He wasn't shaken, possibly still the law, unfamiliar, but friendly. Castor spoke now, honestly and as openly as he would allow himself to do with a total stranger. He was focused on this man Jake Caine, and paid little attention to the broad sitting next to him.

    "Can't say that I've been here before, been on the road for years, but never this far west. I'm called Castor.
    My ride busted down about 2 miles out of town that way..."
    He jerked his arm back over his shoulder with his thumb outstretched to the east of town.

    "..out past the city limits sign. Forks busted. I need a blacksmith."

    Castor sniffed the air. Booze, sweat and leather. He needed another drink, but, still, and more than that, he needed to get his ride fixed.
  15. Time: 10:39 PM
    Location: Deerheart Remedies
    Mood: Nervous, curious


    Darshanna's mind returned to reality when she heard a voice:

    "Somethin' wrong?"

    She knew exactly what just happened, and because of it her caramel brown cheeks were turning a rosy red. After looking at the money deposited into her basket, she swiped up the coins and set the merchandise back onto a counter in her shop. It did not take her more than a few seconds to get that put away and then return to her customer outside the door.

    The Native woman smiled sheepishly at him and said, "I am sorry, sir, if I worried you." The apology was as genuine as the warmth in her eyes. She hoped she didn't make him dislike her in some way. Even though business was important, so were relationships. She always wanted her customers to remember her fondly.

    After adjusting the headdress back onto her skull, she gingerly cupped her hands around his own so he wouldn't drop anything he was holding. She looked into his eyes and spoke again, in a quieter voice: "Travel carefully, dear stranger. The spirits have alerted me. A grave disturbance is here..."

    Darshanna didn't know if he believed her or not. Either way, she wanted to warn him. With a serious nod, she gently let his hands go.
  16. Time: 10:40
    Location: Deerheart Remedies; Blue Belle Saloon
    Mood: Neutral

    Letting himself feel relief, but not showing it in his face, Reilan's shoulders became less tense. The native woman disappeared for a moment back into her shop and came out again a moment later without the basket. She appeared embarrassed about the little daze she was in a few seconds ago and even apologized for it. Reilan waved off her apology, it wasn't necessary.

    She clasped his hands in hers then and looked into his eyes. She gave him a warning, one of spirits and danger. Reilan did believe her, he had seen enough to have his own beliefs shaken. With his mouth set in a grim line he nodded back to her, her warm hands slipped over his cold ones as she let them go. He took two steps backwards, tipping his hat to her before turning around and heading toward the saloon.

    It seems he may have picked up the trail of that psychopathic killer again.
  17. Time: 10:38-10:45 pm
    Location: Blue Belle Saloon
    Mood: Tipsy


    Jolene listened to the conversation between Jake and the strange man that had come over. She downed a few more shots before the white haired man finished his mini statement. Her ears perked when he'd mentioned needing a blacksmith. Turning on her stool she locked eyes with the male, a smile on her lips.

    "Blacksmith you say? Well you're in luck, I happen to know the best blacksmith in this here town"

    Leaning on the counter she ordered two more shots. When the shots were poured she slid one down to the white haired man, "Stop by the Stonewall Blacksmith Shop down main street and on your left hand side tomorrow morning and I guarantee you they'll fix your ride"

    She gave him an almost flirty wink before downing her shot. Slapping Jake on the back she stood with a slight wobble, "Well, Jake, I should pay my tab and take my leave. Try to stay out of trouble and don't lose all your money at the cards"

    She nodded toward Castor politely, "Have a good night boys" she said slipping some money on the counter for the barkeep. Weaving her way through the crowd she left the Blue Belle and began the long walk back to her house to turn in for the evening.
  18. Time: 7:30 am
    Location: Back alley near Blue Belle

    Oh it was early morning alright, and the Blue Belle had seen its fair share of patrons that night. The sun hadn't fully came up but it was just starting to peek over the horizon and stretch its fingers out to awaken the world. The owner of the Blue Belle, Charles Belle himself, was asleep in his bedroom located above the saloon. He'd long ago passed out in his usual drunken haze after dilly dallying with one of his younger bar wenches for a little side fun. Now Mrs. Belle (Clara) knew full well what her husband did at nights. She wasn't a stupid or slow woman, but what was she to do? Charles was a man who had a good business going for himself and that kept her well off. No, Clara was a woman who utilized life's situations to benefit herself when she could. Though the good also came with the bad, in her mind, the good made it all the more worth it.

    Clara herself had a lot going still as well. She was certainly getting older, but she still retained a fair amount of her youthful essence which kept Mr. Belle returning to his bed every night despite his frivolous actions. Though a little heavier than his younger saloon girls, she had a womanly figure with much to offer and fair skin to compliment her golden hair (often kept tied back in tight curls). Though she detested most of the girls who worked in the saloon, simply because of their youthful exuberance, she knew she still had her own form of power over them. And flaunting that was her one true pleasure and guilt. Still, she'd always been raised as a hard worker and so she would take the time to 'help' the business thrive on her own terms.

    While her husband drunkenly slept it was her who often kicked out the late night patrons, got the girls to help clean and tidy up, and prepared things for the next day of business. It seemed a lot, but the reward was a nice sum of money to put in her pocket for a nice day or so of shopping. Maybe, if she was really lucky, one day she'd escape this hell hole of Calamity Crater and find herself in the REAL city. How GLORIOUS that would be! Taking the old bucket out back to the pump she began to pump fresh water in to throw on the wooden floors so she could try to mop up some of the grit from the previous night. As she returned toward the saloon something shiny caught her eye. "What's this now? Eh someone passed out the backstreets? Honestly! Hey you! you there! Wake your sorry ass up!" She scolded.

    The person didn't move so she decided to go give them a wake-up call. She didn't enjoy having vagrants loafing around the alleys behind her saloon. When she approached, however, her thoughts changed. Clank! The water pail fell from her hands and crashed to teh ground as the water spilled forth, washing away part of the pool of blood that surrounded Mary's body. Her mouth was cut from ear to ear, a gash opened her neck and her internal organs were bloated and smelled fowl. The light was streaming on the wall as Clara's eyes beheld the message. A scream echoed through the early morning air as Mary Nichols was found. The first victim.


    Time: 8:50 am
    Location: Back alley near Blue Belle

    Click...flash! The camera went off as crime scene photos were being taken of Mary Nichols. A crime like this had never been seen before in all the years of Calamity Crater. It reminisced a time from the old world in the horror and scale of the murder. The old tale of Jack the Ripper. As the photos were taken a lone individual with a start badge upon their chest approached the scene to take in the sight. The smell was ungodly as the flies swarmed and the body was bloating already from the misty night. Peering down at the lifeless horror of Mary Nichols' face was nearly too much to bear. Her eyes were gently closed as a pair of golden coins was put to rest upon them for fare in the afterlife, if her soul were to ever find its way there. The individual responsible for putting the coins there was the sheriff of the town of Calamity Crater.

    It was time to do some asking around to get this investigation underway. Their main source of information for the night was going to be the bar patrons themselves. Charles Belle was the owner of the Blue Belle Saloon, and the boss of the murdered victim. Clara Belle, Charles' grieving wife, was the unfortunate individual to find the remains. She was still in a state of shock and the sheriff could barely get the story out of her. According to Charles, his girls were serving all night and the place was packed. He couldn't be bothered to keep track of all the girls when its that crazy. Likely story. It was well known in Calamity that some of Charles' girls doubled as prostitutes for a few extra bucks.

    " you mention it the black smith's daughter, Jolene, was in here last night and interacting with some guys. Jake Caine I think the guy's name is and some new fella I never seen before with long white hair. So check her out...needn't forget that weird medicine juju woman across the street. All she ever does is sit out on her porch and watch people. Be surprised if it weren't some curse the woman's put on the place!" Charles had grumbled, "Dada...Dudra...Darda...Shesha... Deershit or something. Some weird old injun name. Go bug her. I have a business to run here!"

    Charles never was known for his class or good spirits. Well that gave the sheriff a place to start. Either with the medicine woman across the street or down to the blacksmith's shop...Case Open.


    Time: 8:45 am
    Location: Stonewall Blacksmith Shoppe
    Mood: Working

    Per usual, despite a night of drinking, Jolene was up crack of dawn to get her chores done and get to the blacksmith shop to help her father. A hard worker by the time the morning's first rays were coming up she was finishing up her breakfast and headed down the street to the shop. Firing up forge and bellows she got right to work hammering away. Her father wouldn't join her until a little later as he had errands to run. Her mind was clearing of the tipsy haze from last night as she hummed a morning tune while she worked. She wondered if the strange white haired male would come in today as she'd said. What a surprise he'd have to see her. Thinking of that she chuckled, unaware of the murder that had occurred near the Blue Belle, her favorite drinking spot. For Jolene, this was just another ordinary day in Calamity Crater...
  19. Time: 8:40-9:00 am
    Location: Alley behind Blue Belle
    Mood: Solemn and alert

    Sheriff Andrea Gunner who preferred being referred to as Sheriff Gunner or Ray, was pulled away from her solitude at home by the call that there was a murder down by the Blue Belle. Putting on a pair of jeans and a white button-up, she pulled her hair back and fastened her pistol holster to her belt. Walking to the door, she slipped on her low heel, cowgirl style boots and a rifle, hanging that over her shoulder and head with the muzzle facing down. By the door, her wide rimmed hat and vest hung, and she slipped those on before walking out the door and heading through town.

    The victim was cut open, her internal organs out on display. Ray grimaced at the sight but stepped onto the crime scene anyway. Kneeling next to the body and giving it a once over from close up. The stench was nearly overwhelming, but she had to get as good a look as possible before they moved it. The pictures would catch most of the sight, but Ray wanted her own mental pictures as well. Reaching in her pocket, she pulled out two coins and closed the girl's eyes before placing the coins on them.

    "We'll find this man and lay you to rest," she murmured strongly. Glancing over the body again as she stood, she frowned as her eyes fell on the woman's lower half. Ovaries are missing, she noted mentallybefore nodding and walking over to the owner of the establishment, who wasn't very pleasant as she asked him a few questions.

    Just as she was about to give up on getting any real information from him, he added:

    " you mention it the black smith's daughter, Jolene, was in here last night and interacting with some guys. Jake Caine I think the guy's name is and some new fella I never seen before with long white hair. So check her out...needn't forget that weird medicine juju woman across the street. All she ever does is sit out on her porch and watch people. Be surprised if it weren't some curse the woman's put on the place!" Charles had grumbled, "Dada...Dudra...Darda...Shesha... Deershit or something. Some weird old injun name. Go bug her. I have a business to run here!"

    Blacksmith and the medicine woman... Ray thanked him and started to walk off. It was about time for the shops to open. With this information, she made her way to the blacksmith's shop.
  20. Time: 9:00 AM
    Location: Deerheart Remedies
    Mood: Grim


    The entrance to her shop was left open for customers, but Darshanna couldn't be seen at her counter. At the moment, she was in the section of her store where she lived, performing an important ritual.

    In the darkness of her kitchen, she sat in front of a handmade fire pit she used for cooking and for her rituals. There was a fire crackling in front of Darshanna, illuminating her ceremonial appearance. There were paints on her face that coordinated well with her headdress. The woman sat cross legged, holding her shaman staff over the flames and moving it in circular motions while she mumbled a chant in her native tongue. The staff was a relic handed down from shaman to shaman, kept in good condition and given repairs where needed. There was a skull at the top of the carved wood with feathers hanging from it.

    The fire changed colors suddenly. Instead of the fiery red, it turned into a frightening shade of black. Her eyes closed then and her chant became a little louder, more clear. Darshanna felt her body begin to tremble, fear instantly touching her mind. The room became very eerie. There were a few cries coming from the flames, too. It was possible that nearby neighbors could hear it, however they were used to the sounds. Darshanna's neighbors knew what she did for a living. As scared as she felt she kept going. Quitting would mean disrespect, failure, cowardice...

    Darshanna's eyes then widened to the image of a man's face. There were a few additional pictures with it, but of them all this one stuck out. The spirits warned her of a terrible danger that struck last evening, and would strike again. There wasn't a single person in Calamity Crater who wasn't doomed. It was her duty to try and help her fellow residents banish the evil spirit who would be terrorizing them.

    Lowering her staff, Darshanna thanked the spirits for their guidance and then watched as her fire turned back to normal. With a sigh, she poured water over it and cracked open a window to help the smoke clear out faster. It looked like she'd need to 'go out to lunch' for a while so she could investigate what crime was committed.

    Until that time, she began gathering some necessary items. Darshanna believed in the protection of what artifacts she owned, so she began dressing herself in them. As well, she went to clean the paint from her face since it would no longer be needed.