Hell's Bells IC

[Red Thunder]

Hell's Bells

•Golden City•​

The train station clock chimed nine times. A man stood on the railway platform, grimacing at the offending noise. Time, ever the enemy of mortal and spirit, man and devil. They were both given so little of it in which to act upon the world, in which to get their affairs in order. In which to wrangle the goddam rebellious sonovabitch what thought he could-

Shifting his head, he spat, careful to keep his black suit clean. He wore no gun, but he carried himself with an air of confidence not easily faked. Steely eyes peered out from beneath a crisp wide brimmed black hat, staring east, and a neatly trimmed beard of tan lined a jaw that worked and muttered angrily. He glanced at the clock again. Soon.

It was a cloudy night, which was an understatement. It was frankly not a night to be outdoors. Though there had yet been a single drop of rain to fall, still the sky threatened it. The clouds rolled and spun, illuminated intermittently by bolts of lightning as it clawed its way across the ashen sky. Oddly, the horses tied at various posts about the town gave it little notice, and even the occasional crack of thunder didn't seem to bother them. Yet the few that still strode the dirt road looked up uneasily

~
​

It was a busy night at the saloon. And a loud one, no thanks to the actions of one a particular individual. A well dressed woman sat at a table at which she distinctly out of place. She tossed down a group of cards with a small smile. It was a respectable hand, and her companions groaned audibly as she gathered the chips.

"Cheer up, gentlemen." She chuckled politely, stacking her winnings up as another player shuffled the deck. He looked rather more unhappy than the others; his own stack of chips was looking more sparse than his companions'. He wasn't sure what irked him more: the fact that this ridiculously successful player looked like she had absolutely no need of the money; that she had insisted on participating in the game at all; or that it was a woman, a lady seemingly, who was almost patronizing them with her skill.

"Mrs. Green," he grumbled, tipping his hat back. "I swear, I ain't never seen such a lady play so damn well. In fact, I've never seen a woman play poker at all! Most would deem it inappropriate."

"Your pardon… Mr. Coors, was it? But most would also deem it inappropriate to speak to a woman in such a way. Yet here we are: I receiving from you a lesson in 'eloquence', and you receiving from me a lesson in cards." Smiling once more with condescension as Adolph Coors groaned, Henrietta Green glanced over her shoulder and raised her now empty glass. "Excuse me. Eli, was it? Could I trouble you for another drink?"
@Kate

~​

On the steps just outside, the hunched figure of Jimmy Mills rested against the wooden slats. A glass bottle was gripped loosely in his hand, only retaining enough liquor within to wet the bottom. The other hand was cupped around his face as it bore the weight of his head. It had been a hard day, harder than most; the heat had claimed another calf under his watch, and though Mr. Patterson didn't dock his pay for it, neither was he going to hire the vagabond again. Which meant another week of searching and pleading for work from citizens increasingly unwilling to provide it to him. Yet for now, all Jimmy could do was to drift in and out of his stupor, desperately needing to sober up yet dreading the exposure to the real world that doing so would entail.

~​

At the bordello, business was slow. With few exception, the young women employed within lingered about the lounge, listless and bored. There were few johns today; an odd turn, and not without cause for worry. Two establishments could always be counted on to maintain patronage, as long as a town held life: the saloon and the whorehouse. If either were suffering a lack of business…

A sharp tinkle from the hanging door bell filled the lounge, and a few of the women looked up. A man had just entered. Of average height but sturdy build, he looked like no one to be crossed. The guns on his hips and the thick mustache on his lip only served to encourage that impression. He remained quiet, but his eyes looked about expectantly.
@KC

~​

"Marnie! Come along!"

A woman of perhaps thirty moved slowly down the street just in front of the white walled church, her skirt shuffling quietly as she walked and her steps nervous and hesitant, as if she were an animal creeping through a predator's den. On her chin was an odd shape, a tattoo, faded yet not hidden. A small girl, not yet ten years, hustled after her.

"Yes, ma'am."

Her coat was large and ill-fitting, as if it were the best available, and a round hat covered her braided hair. Eyes shifted nervously, a reflection of her mother. Both seemed to be looking, searching. Yet not finding.
@PoetLore

~~~​

Additional Tags: @Chris_Reaper @Happy Trails @HellHoundWoof @rissa

PC Post relevant stuff

Time to get things started! If you weren't tagged after a particular scene, feel free to insert your character wherever best suits them, except the train station, though I assume here's going to be a great deal of activity near the saloon. Use this first post as a chance to establish who your character is in Golden City and how they interact with its citizens. The Plot as such will start gaining traction in the next GM post.

And feel free to collab amongst each other and to ask to collab with particular NPCs, if you want! I'm for the most part available to reply to them and enjoy them immensely. Just don't forget to finish up your respective Crossroads meeting collabs with me!

Next GM post - July 31st

 

[Happy Trails]

Jameson skipped a penny across his knuckles absent-mindedly as he let the sounds of the saloon wash over him. There was a rowdy game of cards almost drowning out the sound of the piano player, which was a shame since he was playing "My Old Kentucky Home" it had never been a favorite of his but had come to take on a new meaning since his surrender. Other than that the bar seemed less rowdy than usual. Now that he thought of it, he doubted that on a normal night he would have even noticed that there was a game of cards being played at all. This troubled him some because he preferred the bar when it was full of life that he could blend into. When the bartender looked to him he flicked the penny toward the man without a thought and slid forward his empty shot glass.

"Another, still no tab." was all he said. With his request met he turned in his chair to survey the bar, then back to the man behind it. "Quiet tonight. Well 'cept for those folk playin'. Might have to call it an early one."

 

[PoetLore]

Charlotte Nichols heard the bell of the train station clock toll nine times and looked at the work that she had yet to complete with chagrin. Weary hands pressed into the small of her back as she leaned into them and let out a soft groan as fatigue threatened to overtake her and derail her work in the old white washed building. Her young body was feeling a little worse for wear from the physical exertion setting up the classroom. She had been completely unaware that the 'school' here was not in session last year, for lack of a teacher, nor that she would be expected to conduct classes in a church.

She had already been forced to redo much of her work after last Sunday's services. Someone felt the need to push everything to the wall and did so without regard for whether or not books or other items spewed onto the floor. No one had taken credit for the action, of course, but neither had anyone offered to help her pick things up as she had hoped. She had afterward paid a considerable amount of her own money to have a local carpenter build a closed wall cabinet on that long side wall, and this was where she was now housing all of her books, blackboards, primers, and other curriculum for the coming year.

She closed the cabinet, turning the key until she heard the familiar clunk of the lock engaging. Slipping the key into the locket of her long blue skirt she patted it one to ensure it had slid deep into its nest before she brushed her hands down over the fabric to smooth it out a bit. A stray lock of light brown hair fell into her face, having come free of it's confines as she worked. Blowing it out of her eyes she sighed and reached up to tuck it behind her ear. Tugging then at the waist of her jacket, which was tailored to perfection to match the skirt she wore, she glanced around the open room struggling not to buckle under the heavy lifting and cleaning that remained to be done.

"Tomorrow is another day," she breathed out softly. She gathered up her small bag and walked across the wooden floorboards tot he double doors. Her stride was always crisp and fast, and the sound of her heeled boots was an often heard tune from within the building as she'd been preparing for classes to resume the following week.

Locking those doors was no an option as the preacher man spoke of God's house always being open, so she shut the doors behind her and then moved out into the street. A loud crack of thunder was heard a second alter and she let out an involuntary squeal as her hand flew to her chest in shock. Looking up at the angry sky she sighed, "Can you wait until i get back to my room?"

It was then, that she was a young woman and a child moving in her direction. Though exhausted, a smile fixed itself on her face as they neared, "Frightful evening isn't it?" Gray green eyes moved from woman to child and back again. Seeing and feeling their palpable nervousness her brow lifted, "Are you in need of assistance?"

 

[Chris_Reaper]

@Happy Trails

The shadowy silhouette of a man on a horse were barely visible on the dark dirt roads of Golden City. The streets caught just the faintest hint of the lantern light that spilled from the small saloon. Jericho trotted on his horse, Tomahawk, ever so slowly when he stopped in front of the saloon. There were sounds coming from within, but it wasn't the boisterous ruckus usually affiliated with places like this. More a low din of a few jovial voices, perhaps engaged in a card game. The Comanche rider narrowed his eyes slightly as he dismounted his steed. He figured he'd try his luck in asking some of these country folk if any of them had seen or had any knowledge of his quarry. With purpose in his stride, the tall tanned skin man casually made his way into the establishment. The place was sparse and as Jeri had figured, the only signs of life were coming from a card game a few tables down. Jericho didn't immediately draw awkward stares, as from a distance he was dressed as any typical rough riding gunslinger in these parts of the West. A worn duster, a pair of brown pants and a loose fitting shirt. However up close, the things that gave his native heritage away were in the form of three tribal tattoos that adorned his face. Two running down both his eyes and the third right smack in the middle of his forehead. His jet black hair, tanned red complexion and a necklace of animal teeth were also testament to his Comanche roots.

The bartender gave Jeri an odd stare before he broke the silence with" Somethin for you stranger?"

Jericho slammed down a small silver coin on the bar "Nothin a good ole shot of down home whiskey wouldn't fix." Jeri said, a rough gaff in his voice.

"Comin right up..." said the bartender as he noticed the strange man's rather formidable contingent of weapons he carried on his person. Strapped to the outside of his right thigh he held one six shooter in a holster while a large Bowie knife was strapped to his other leg. Through his duster, the bartender could see that another revolver was carried in a shoulder holster and rounding out his arsenal was an actual tomahawk tucked into his belt. As the bar man brought over the drink his eyes darted around inquisitively "Where do you hail from? You scoutin for the outlying Sioux...or maybe the Cheyenne, since we all know there's a scuffle been a brewin between those two packs of redskins."

Jeri looked back at the bartender with a slight grin as he downed his shot "What's the difference tender foot. If you've seen one injun, you've seen em all right? Isn't that what you people tend to say bout my kin?"

"Now I ain't mean no offense...I was just questioning since I don't want no trouble you understand..."

"You've got nuthin to fear from me green horn. I just come in here fer a lil bit of info." said Jeri as he produced a withered and worn photo of a man with dark beard and mustache. "Tell me whiskey jumper, you ever seen this here feller round these parts? Goes by the name of Jeremiah Hastings."

The bartender looked intently at the photo "Can't say is I have."

Jeri than peered further down the bar counter and spotted a man sitting. He went over with photo in hand "How about ch'u pilgrim...you ever seen this here bag a'bones?"

 

[Happy Trails]

Jameson tried not to notice the man with an obvious chip on his shoulder as he sauntered in. The stranger made no effort to conceal he was packing enough heat to make any lawman get a posse, something that only added to his desire not to be bothered. Unfortunately the man went straight to the bar and ordered a drink. His accent was strange, and the tattoos on the man's face didn't set him at ease either. When the gunslinger confirmed himself to be an Injun and one hunting a man at that it was enough to make concrete that this was not something anybody should go meddling in.

"Huh?" Jameson feigned like he'd had to much to drink and blinked at the man. "Sorry what'd you...You know you're not s'posed to have those." He waved at the man's belt, hoping that maybe the suggestion that there was indeed a lawman somewhere in town at this hour might get the stranger to leave without further intrusion.

 

[Chris_Reaper]

Jericho continued to gaze at the bar patron, not in a menacing way, but more in a determined sort of manner "Bartender...gimme a double will ya." he said as he slammed two more silver coins onto the counter top, and all while he continued to fixate his gaze on the other man. "Much obliged on the safety tip boy, but in the meantime why don't we get back to this here puddle jumper in the snap shot...if ya don't mind. Ya' ever seen em 'round?"

The bartender reluctantly brought two more hard shots of whiskey and set them down near Jericho and Jameson "Now looky here redskin, if yer gonna be harrasin mah customers, I'm gonna have to..."

Jericho simply raised a finger and shot a menacing glare at the bar man, cutting him off "I would advise you to think real carefully bout what comes outta yer pie hole next bleach cricket."

The bartender intook an impatient breath and steadily walked away, not wanting to rouse this potentially unstable individual...

Jericho than gulped down one of the shots and retrieved the other one to offer it to the other man "Can I offer you a guzzler on mah dime...some ole Red Eye always makes a man concentrate all the better I finds. So how bout the photo pilgrim, ring any bells?"

 

[Kate]

Henrietta Green glanced over her shoulder and raised her now empty glass. "Excuse me. Eli, was it? Could I trouble you for another drink?"

Eli pushed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, pushing his chin out as he did, before the woman's attention returned to the game at hand. Pushing himself away from the back bar, he picked up a fairly ornate green glass bottle and headed over to the table. Henrietta was playing with Adolph Coors, Jeremiah Jackson and Wyatt Cole, and she was winning comfortably. The three men were all capable players, worthy of respect and yet Henrietta had them all beat. She knew what she was doing and today she was certainly getting the cards to help her do it, much to the chagrin of the men around her.

"Damn it Henrietta," said Eli as he approached the table. "You know my name well enough an' you know I ain't some damn waiter neither. You've been comin' around here for close to ten years now so you know exactly what you're doin' an' I'm tired of it." He set the bottle down, removed the cork with a knife and then poured out some of the amber coloured liquid into her glass. "An' I know I don't help matters none by bringin' you a drink when you ask for it but you could at least make an effort to show me some respect once in a while." He looked over the table, eyeing up each player's stack of chips and let out a low whistle.

"You fellers ain't havin' the best of nights, are you?" he asked, knowing it would rile them further. "A good player knows when to cut their losses and walk away," he said, looking directly at Adolph's tiny stack of chips. "Don't y'all be getting in too deep now, you hear?" With that, he picked up the bottle and forced the cork back into it. "An' next time, Henrietta, you can head on over to the bar like a regular person."

Eli returned to the bar and set the bottle down. He'd never much cared for Henrietta, she was a well-to-do woman and a busy body to boot, and she knew exactly how to get a rise out of him. She clearly saw fit to have her fun, and if she hadn't been playing cards then she would certainly have been throwing herself at Eli, or one of the other men present, more than she had done. He was glad of the poker game in that regard. Despite having an eye for the ladies, Eli had no time for Henrietta, she just lacked any of the kind of class that usually made a woman so appealing.

With a sigh, Eli pulled a book of matches out of his pocket, along with a small tin. He set about rolling himself a cigarette while surveying his saloon on what was one of the quieter nights, something that left him ill at ease. People seemed to be moving away from the Golden City and it was taking a toll on those that stayed behind; after all, a town's lifeblood was its people and without them it would wither and die. Most of the usual faces were here and, as saloon owner, Eli had come to know the entire town near enough, even if he didn't always know their names, he knew their faces.

All except for one. Some kind of indian, but Eli didn't know enough to recognise the tribe, and he was kitted out for war, judging by the amount of weaponry he was carrying. Eli could make out a gun, a knife, one of them tomahawk hatches and God knows what else he had hidden under his duster. Most indians passed through town and a lot of them did so without causing any trouble, but this one was setting off every alarm bell in Eli's mind. Not only was he decked out with weapons, he was a big guy that was probably more than capable of handling himself without a weapon, and he was clearly on a mission. He flashed something at one of Eli's barmen and then at one of he stool pigeons before glaring the bartender away so that the two could talk in privacy.

"Roberts," said Eli nodding to the barman and calling him over to the far end. "What's that redskin after?"

"He's lookin' for someone, boss, got himself a photo of the guy too, but I ain't none too sure he's gonna find him." The barman looked back over his shoulder, but the indian was still talking to his new-found friend. "Said the man's name's Jeremiah Hastings and seein' as this guy's armed to the teeth I wouldn't much want to be Jeremiah right now."

"I s'pose it's none of our business what this man's after," mused Eli, lighting his cigarette and taking a drag. "I'll keep an eye on him but if he's just showin' his picture an' askin' for information then I don't see a lot of harm in that. I'll be keepin' an eye on him an' I reckon you'll want to do the same too. Even if he ain't here lookin' for trouble there's somethin' about him that tells me he finds plenty of it all the same." Eli took another drag and leaned back slightly, exhaling the smoke towards the high ceiling of the saloon. "Or trouble has a habit of findin' him, instead. His kind ain't exactly everyone's friend an' the firewater's gonna set someone off sooner or later."

The barman nodded and then moved back down the bar, towards the two men still at the bar. He kept his distance so as not to antagonise the indian, but at least he was in range if he was needed to pour a drink or keep some order...

 

[Hell Hound Woof]

The South Carolina Kid

​

Thick trails of smoke were lit across in the air as lightning cracked. These trails curled away from the ember end of long thin cigar held in the mouth of a man on horseback. The face iluminated by the cigar was one covered in a thick stubble from long days of travel. A small blotch of red liquid could be seen below the man's ear. The mans hair was long and black. Half was tied behind his head the rest flowed lightly around his shoulders. He wore a short black top hat and a dark grey frock coat. On either of this man's hips was silver plated Remington 1858, the one on his right hip was turned in the gunfighter position. The man's horse was a tall strong looking beast, well fed with a thick black coat. On either side of it's haunches were black leather saddlebags decorated in engravings and studs. It's reigns decorated much the same with fancy engravings on the studs. The horse trotted along down the streets and towards the center of Golden City. Passing the shops and catching some eyes as he rode. The man on top exhaled and let a cloud of smoke rise into the sky. As he approached the center of town he heard the clamor of the saloon and a smirk spread across his face. Lincoln tugged at the reins on his horse to angle it towards the filled saloon. Unfortunately a number of horses had been tied outside and Lincoln was forced to look elsewhere. He moved his horse down the road and found a portion of rail available by the whorehouse. He dismounted and swung himself over the side, his spurs sang as he landed. His hands still held the reins as he walked the horse to the rail of the bordello. He turned his eyes skyward and looked up at the rolling clouds and lightning scattered sky with unease. Lincoln's horse twitched a moment before Lincoln laid a hand on it's neck and patted with force. He tied the horse to the post and gave it one final pat before walking away. As he moved down the street he was noticed by some on the street and a number outside the bordello. As he neared the doors of the saloon he spotted a drunk man on it's steps, certainly in no good mood. Lincoln reached into his pocket and clasped a three dollar coin. He flicked the coin towards the man and gave him a tip of his hat before checking the sky again. It was an odd night, one that set him on edge.

"It'll be fine, aint rained yet..." Lincoln mumbled as he turned towards the saloon doors.

He entered the saloon and was confronted by the swarm of smells and laughters. As he entered he adjusted his coat so that his pistols were less visible and began walking. Lincoln kept his head angled down but glanced out to the sides at what he could. Around many tables were drunk men with some women around. He spotted a poker game not far to his left and circled closer to the table to view it. He turned his head towards the table a moment and glanced at the chips and players. A woman of older features and fine dress seemed to be dominating the table. At that Lincoln could hardly hold back a smile, he tipped his hat to the card mistress and walked on towards the bar. As he moved through the bar he saw how crowded it was and got slightly uncomfortable as he moved through the crowd. He turned his head upwards and scanned the bar for a seat. Lincoln spotted one seat towards the edge of the bar, a seat away from an overweight man with a full beard and a fur coat. As the gunslinger sat down the man and he exchanged a quick nod. Lincoln removed his hat and set it on a dry part of the bar in front of him. He flexed his right hand before removing the cigar from his mouth and ashing it in an empty glass on the counter. Lincolns left hand reached into his jacket pocket and produced a ten dollar note. He looked towards the bar tender as he set it on the counter with a hard knock before replacing the cigar.

"Top shelf whiskey, if you'd be so kind." Lincoln said with his accent breaking through the cigar, as the bartender moved to serve him Lincoln slid the note forward, "I'll take th'whole thing."

He nodded then thanked the bartender as he brought him the bottle and took the ten note. He removed his cigar and took up the glass. With haste Lincoln downed the first glass and then uncorked the bottle to pour himself another. He eyed the scene of the bar from his seat and took a half of the next glass with a slower pace. It was then he noticed the marked up native flashing a photograph. Lincoln grew interested in the almost joke like set up and watched as the man talked to another patron. He took a short drag of his cigar and flushed the smoke out of his mouth slowly. Observing the patronage of the bar Lincoln found that there was an air about the loudness. Something uneasy even despite the revelry. He finished his second glass and prepared another for himself. He looked towards the big bearded man and held up the bottle. The man smiled and slid his glass towards Lincoln to fill it. In the spirit of southern hospitality Lincoln happily poured the man some whiskey and struck up conversation.

"What can you tell me about the marked up fella?" Lincoln said with a smirk as he sipped his whiskey.

"Oooh well not a whole lot," The man said before taking a sip, "Fine hooch... He came in here lookin' fer some man named Joseph Hosting or some such. Flashing a photograph 'round and such."

"That aint much of a story friend," Lincoln said extending a hand.

The man took his hand and shook it, "I'd offer ya more but he aint said much to me yet. Hoping he doesnt either. Them people aint exactly the most level headed in my experience. I'm Luther Biggs."

"Nice to meet'cha Luther," Lincoln said with a grin as he placed the cigar back in his mouth, "I'm Lincoln Hunsucker."

The big man's face lit up at this and he reached into his coat pocket. Lincoln immediately reached for his pistol but the man put a hand down to stop him. Lincoln looked up with his pistol aimed directly at the mans face from below the top of the bar. He lowered it at seeing a grey confederate cap with a palmetto sewn into the top in the mans hands. The man set the hat on the table and let out a chuckle before putting his hand out again this time with a broad smile. Lincoln holstered his pistol then took the mans hand and felt the crushing weight of the man's excitement.

"Well shit I never thought I'd get to see the South Cackalacki Kid again," The man began patting Lincoln on the shoulder, "I fought in the 1st Palmetto. I pulled a bunch of you boys out the fire back in Gettysburg while the yanks had you on the run. I heard from your boys that you were killing scores of 'em."

Lincoln let a small smirk spread a moment before he took another drink, "That'd be me."

"What're you doin' out here?"

"Drinking, whoring and looking for trouble. Everything a good ol' Johnny Reb ought'a do when he aint got a job to do." Lincoln answered quickly and dismissively to kill the subject. He downed his glass and chuckled as the big man did the same. He began to pour another and offered some to the big man but was met with refusal.

"Oh no I couldnt," Luther said with a frown as he stood, "I've got work in the morning. An' I figure sticking 'round this indian aint good for anyone's health tonight."

The man grabbed his hat and gave Lincoln a pat on the shoulder as he walked away. Lincoln turned back to the bar and looked at the bottle on the counter. He removed the cigar from his mouth and stared at the ember in front of him as it burned ever closer to the end of it's life. He flicked it away into Luther's glass and reached into his pocket for his watch to check the time. There was slight commotion within the bar. Then the poker table got a few hoots and hollers as a hand was laid down. Lincoln turned back out to the bar and looked over the scene again, running a hand over his hair and scanning for any women of interest.

 

[Happy Trails]

Jameson decided he didn't like this Injun. He was looking for trouble and armed to make sure he lasted long enough to make everyone regret when he found it. When the Injun threatened the bartender his hairs stood up on the back of his neck and he began wishing he had his Dance on his hip. The man was younger than him, by how much he wasn't sure, but young enough that when combined with his complexion there was no doubt that he had missed the war. This man still had a craving for violence left in him that life had yet to work out, that was something that needed to be avoided.

"Sorry I dunno what it is you're talkin' 'bout. I do think you owe our host here an apology and you should be careful with those," he gestured towards their gun belt with his empty glass, "there's woman-folk round here and they're liable to get a sheriff if they get a panicked by it."

 

[KC]

The morning had been agonisingly slow in Izzy's mind and further on into the cool evening, the clatter of coins only coming from the nights takings she was recounting in the storeroom behind the parlor bar. The establishment was so still; not even a whimsical groan of pleasure could be heard from upstairs which never sat well with Isadora. Yet she had considered, it would be impossible to expect her takings to be exceptional every day of the year. The quiet times gave the girls the ability to perform the menial tasks which were important to the smooth running of the bordello, sheets stripped and rooms cleaned from top to bottom, furniture rearranged to keep the bordello's atmosphere fresh whilst others attended to making new and revealing costumes for their ever eager clients. There were plenty of employees to ensure at least five girls were immediately available at all times, another serving behind the bar and Isadora's off sider to help welcome guests.

This evening she had made the most of the quiet, settling her accounts earlier on and counting the night's takings briefly to make sure nothing was out of place. She had even sent her off sider Kitty and three other girls upstairs to the top floor balcony where she had them open the windows and dressed in nothing more than their sultry undergarments whistle and call to the local men passing below, beckoning them to come inside and taste their 'exotic fruits." Kitty eyed a lone figure as he tied his mount to the post rail and with excitement exclaimed, "hey there handsome, why don't ye come up here and lay with me a while, you sure look tired!" The man seemed to carry on in his task and after moment of additional calling Kitty gave in, turning her attention to the next man commuting past.

With the remaining girls having ensured their presentation was up to Isadora's standards they waited, most sitting along the side of the bar whilst the others lounged along the client's waiting seats. The doorbell broke the small hum of girlish chatter, the women turning to watch the man enter, eyes drinking in his demeanor as Isadora slid the profits into a small container and pushed it back behind the liquor bottles, rising to her feet and smoothing her dress skirts with her hands as she practically glided out into the parlor room where the man stood looking expectantly about the room.

'Good evening kind sir, welcome to your garden of Eden" Isadora chimed as she walked out to meet the man, her dress an elegant purple satin with black lace trim, the corset tied in such a way that it held her body in a supple hourglass frame. She lifted her hand in greeting to the man with a sly and almost devilish smile.

"I am the Madame here, but you can call me Isadora" she purred, her eyes centered upon his as she read him.

 

[Red Thunder]

•Golden City•​

Jimmy scowled at the generosity of the well dressed stranger. Others had passed him without so much as a single glance. Why couldn't this rich prick leave him alone and let him wallow in his sorrow? He watched Lincoln as he climbed the steps, trying to figure out just why he'd offered him the money. Maybe he was some moneyed eastern boy, flaunting his wealth as he explored the sights of the western wilderness. Maybe he was a legitimately kind soul, seeking to lessen the burden of those in worse fortune than himself.

Or maybe he was just an idiot who didn't know when to leave a man to his own fate. And yet. He picked up the coin, examining it closely. It looked real enough, and his own bottle was looking dry. Well, almost dry; he quickly rectified that. Standing with some small difficulty, Jimmy turned and began climbing the stairs back into the saloon, shiny coin in his pocket. Fool or not, the rich man did with his money what he wanted. And now Jimmy was going to do with his new money what he wanted. And what Jimmy wanted was nothing more than to get drunker than the small buzz he had. After all, three dollars was a lot, and he had a taste for some well distilled whiskey.

Henrietta had chuckled at Eli's assertion. That she was like everyone else. How ridiculous! Her own servants waited on her back east; why shouldn't those who might be servants do so here? Granted, they were of a lighter skin, but...

"And another hand!" Coors threw down his cards, muttered a string of curses under his breath. "Dammit, Netty! At least pretend to lose sometimes! It takes all the fun out of the game."

"Nonsense. You just need to play better." Her bubbly voice filled the air. Draining what was left of her newest drink, she slid the glass to Adolph. "But I suppose I can let you keep your share of the pot if you refill my drink. Two fingers of whiskey, neat. Though I dare say Eli knows that already. Eh, Eli?"

She chuckled, looking over her shoulder at the owner coyly. Roberts, keen to Mrs. Green's efforts, intercepted Coors as the young man grudgingly brought her glass to the counter.

"Don't let her push you around, lad," he said, uncaring as to who heard him. "She's an American citizen and no better than any here.

"And that includes you, Mr. Indian. Mr. Coulburn is right; I've no issue getting the sheriff involved, you keep this up. Drinkin' and talkin' is fine; threatening ain't. You take that outside."

Roberts paused, giving the Indian a mean look that he didn't really feel. Jericho scowled, angry at being called out, and a hand went for a gun. But it stopped halfway; it wasn't worth the trouble, and he clearly knew it. Scoffing, he turned and stomped out the door, catching Jimmy with his shoulder as they passed. Jimmy fairly bounced off the doorframe, but Jericho didn't even pause. Finally Roberts addressed his other patrons.

"Now. Anythin' else I can getcha gentlemen?"

Jimmy collapsed beside Jameson, slapping the coin on the counter. To the side, a pretty blonde in a low cut dress sidled up to Lincoln, eyebrows raised coyly. Izzy's girls worked the saloon on occasion, trying to drum up interest, and Samantha was particularly good at it.
@Happy Trails @HellHoundWoof @Kate

~​

The man looked down at Isadora, hard eyes peering out in quiet observation from beneath a wide brim. At the madame's introduction, he nodded.

"Isadora," he repeated. "I'm Bill Hicock. It's been a long ride, an' I need a plate of food for my stomach. What you have in that way?"

The few girls that were on the bottom floor began whispering amongst themselves. Food? This wasn't the place for that. What kind of ignoramous came to a bordello to get fed? But their whispers stopped short; Bill turned his head to examine them stoically before turning back to Isadora. From his long coat he pulled out a folded piece of paper, ratted and torn. Unfolding it carefully, he held it up to her and pointed at the front. It bore a drawn likeness to a woman of round face, hair tightly bound up, and white features. Yet her chin bore an odd tattoo; it was an Indian feature, and definitely not usual to a white woman. The name "Olive Oatman" was printed underneath, along with the words "Wanted: Alive - $200 for information regarding kidnapping". Having pointed the face out, he pulled aside his coat. Pinned to his vest was a metal star, the word "sheriff" stamped across it quite plainly.

"I'm a sheriff outta Kansas. Ellis County. You seen this woman around here?"
@KC

~​

"Frightful. Yes."

The woman with the faded tattoo nodded evasively. The girl hurried to the woman's side at Charlotte's approach, clutching her leg and appearing to try to hide. The woman patted the girl's back, comforting her. There was a crash of thunder, and she looked at the sky in concern.

"Help? Nah, don't think so. Jes'- jes' a little rain, right? T'aint nuthin' to worry over. 'Cept..." She paused, considering. Her brow creased in worry, and she looked around the street, apparently looking for something before looking back to Charlotte. "Nah, nuthin'. Fine night. We're, uh. We're right cared for, ain't that right, Marnie?"

She patted the girl's back again, and Marnie nodded. The woman smiled, though uncertainly.

"'Preciate your kindness, though. Er, this is a church, yeah? Don't s'pose it's open, is it?"
@PoetLore

~​

There; in the distance. On the eastern horizon flashed a light of green, illuminating the cloudy sky briefly before disappearing. The man with the steely eyes set his jaw. The bastard was coming; it was time. From his inner breast coat pocket he pulled a hand rolled cigarette, which he shoved in his mouth and lit with a match. The paper caught fire immediately, the heat from the immolation causing the small of tobacco to fill the air around him. Without whipping it through the air to kill the flame, the man flicked the match onto the earth. Though covered in brown grass, the fire did not spread. Or rather, it didn't spread ok the grass. Instead, the flame bleed forth from the match in a circular fashion, with lines shooting inward to meet and cross the middle. When the outer edge met itself, it stopped, the summoning circle complete. It burned there as briefly as the green flash before it and slowly simmered away, seeping into the ground.

Immediately the entire town shook, a tone deeper than the very sea shaking it from below. To most it would seem an earthquake: rare, but not unheard of. But to some individuals, it would seem like a loud church bell had been rung. Only this was no church bell; it was malicious and haunting, creeping and vile, monstrous and menacing, and it brought a terror to those that heard. The steely eyed man smiled wickedly, a perverse pleasure filling his face. The bastard would pay.

~​

It rung six times, then six more times, then six more times. Each chime shook the ground, and the citizens of Golden City grabbed for valuables to protect what they could from the odd earthquake. Yet as the last chime faded, so too did the shaking, and the earth came to rest at last.

But as it did, to the sight of each who had struck a deal with the steely eyed man, a dog of immense size would be seen standing not ten feet from them. It's paws were as large as a dinner plate, its shoulders as broad as a horse's, and its eyes as red as the heart of a fire. It would appear suddenly, with the blink of an eye. Yet it would be standing as if at attention, and not aggressively, and their ears would be up and their teeth would not be bared. It stared at each for a full six seconds before turning and walking away, making a slow and steady way toward the train platform. And a certainly that they were meant to follow would fill the mind of each one to whom it had appeared, and if they did not immediately, the dog would turn and look back, and its teeth would bare with a low growl until the individual followed.

Spoiler

Feel free to bring your character to the train platform and even address each other or the Steely Eyed Man if you want.

Next post will be on the 17th of August.

 

[PoetLore]

Charlotte watched the woman and though she was no doctor or professional of such a sort, even she could see that something was not quite right about the two. The girl seemed afraid and overly clingy with the woman, and the woman was quite obviously hiding something. She's wager it was something weighty by the look of her.

The thunder clapped loudly and she was again startled by it and it showed. never one to be embarrassed by such things she smiled and let out a gush of air, "My that is fierce sounding." Brushing her gloved hands down over non-existent wrinkles in her jacket and skirt for a moment, she then returned her attention to the woman and child before her.

"If you will forgive me...I can see something is troubling you. This is indeed a church and it is open," she assured them, "Feel free to make use of it. The preacher will not be around until Sunday morning, but there are Bibles inside on the benches and a song book on the front dais." She was about to continue when the ground shook as an odd kind of clanging was heard. She ushered the two with her to the posts of the church portico. "Hold on here...it should pass soon," she said hoping to console the little one a bit. But she was experiencing a completely different emotion. The image of a kindly priest came to her mind and then the image of an agreement signed in her blood soon followed. Her own countenance was serene for the sake of the two, who were not to blame for that choice so long ago.

Nine times the odd chimes sounded and then everything went deadly still. She felt a chill ripple along her arms and down her spine. She gradually released the post she had been clinging to while the ground shook and smiled, "It seemed to be over ... now..." her words seemed caught in her throat as she saw the huge dog in the road. She didn't realize she was staring until the other woman turned to see what she was looking at as well. Forcing her gaze away and back to the two, she realized, in that moment, that they could not see the dog. She was both dismayed and relieved.

She chose to be evasive, "I thought I saw something...must have been nerves playing tricks on me..." taking the few steps to the church doors, she opened them and smiled, "Why don't you two avail yourselves of the church? Always calms me when I need it." A comforting, sympathetic smile accompanied the words as did a warmth in her eyes that would convey her genuine concern for them being out in the soon coming storm. "Can I bring you anything?" she asked before she left them to follow the dog who was still waiting for her. The dog had begun to move toward the train station, but had stopped when it realized she was not yet following.

She started down the stairs when she saw the teeth being bared and heard the growl, "I will come back and check on you." She promised and let the door close behind her.

She moved to the dog and sighed, "It was not as if i was alone," she said to it, "I was coming." The dog seemed to accept this and she followed dutifully behind it. She knew the time had come to pay, and though she had put this out of her mind, she had not forgotten her promise. True to the deal, her sister had been miraculously healed and was enjoying a happy life. She had not fared as well, but then that had not been her purpose in making the deal. She had gotten what she desired, and now it was time to pay.

Dainty booted feet stepped up onto the train platform. Charlotte adjusted her jacket for the third time, folded her gloved hands and waited. Heaven help her, it was time to pay.

 

[Kate]

Eli furrowed his brow as Henrietta called out for another drink. Her attitude stank as much as the perfume she'd applied liberally, and Eli's biggest concern right now was that with enough drink and moxie, she might end up making a move on him before the night was out. The old dog had an eye for the ladies, and Henrietta Green was certainly a lady, but she wasn't the kind he liked. She was too old, too abrasive, too... antagonistic. There were challenges, women that kept their cool and played it coy, and then there were women like Henrietta, where the challenge simply wasn't worth meeting. After all, bedding the woman might not be difficult, but living with himself afterwards? Even Eli had his limits.

So, instead, he let Roberts take care of her and took another drag. Surveying the bar, Eli noticed that people were still leaving for the night and the place was starting to look deserted. Even the redskin had left from what Eli could see, if he was chasing someone down then he probably couldn't afford to waste too long in any one place, or perhaps he'd even found a lead. Either way, he was out of the saloon and that suited Eli just fine.

The lack of trade might have been cause for concern in anyone else's books, but not Eli's. He was lucky. Famously so, and a dip here or there was always rewarded by a boon further down the line, to say nothing of the sizeable funds and treasures he had squirrelled away should he ever need to dip into them. With his mind at ease, all Eli had to do was work out how to get that damned Henrietta out of here so that he could head on home himself. He'd pay Roberts for a full night's work, the boy did a good job and deserved to have a little of Eli's favour rub off on him from time to time, but an early night sounded pretty peachy all the same.

The peace was then ruined by a loud rumbling, as the earth itself took umbrage with the night and resolved to make things a little more interesting. The saloon shook along with the rest of the Golden City, and glasses fell from shelves and people's hands, while tables and chairs rattled across the old wooden floors. Eli held on tightly to the bar to keep himself upright, though some of the less sober customers lacked such wherewithal and were soon sent sprawling to the ground.

"Keep your hair on, folks," called Eli, his voice booming over the sound of the earth shaking. "S'just an earthquake, nothin' to worry about." He then spotted an older man holding on tightly to a table, "Except maybe for you Amos, you'll want to get out from under that light fixture, just in case." Eli shrugged, as if it was a common occurrence, even though it had only ever happened a handful of times that he could remember. Confident that his luck wasn't about to run out just yet, he was able to keep calm, even as those around him began to panic. "It'll settle down soon enough, don't go losin' yer heads now," he called again, listening to the sound of more glass smashing.

In the background of it all, he could hear the church bell ringing. It wasn't to be unexpected, given that everything else in the town was shaking, so why wouldn't the old bell?

Except this wasn't quite the right tone. It was probably just distorted, but Eli counted the chimes all the same. There were six of them. They were clear, too, these were six proper chimes, not just the kind you might get if the bell was just swinging of its own accord. Then, after a clear and deliberate pause, another six chimes rang out and Eli found himself transfixed by the sound. He was rooted to the spot as it hung in the air around him like smoke and then six more chimes hung. Three volleys of six, but it sounded like so much more, as they continued to reverberate around his head, building into a deafening cacophony that muted every sound in the bar.

And then the earth began to settle, just like Eli had said it would. People began to calm down too, catching their breath and some finishing their drinks quickly. Several made a bolt straight for the saloon doors, leaving them wide open as they ran out to check on their homes and families. All Eli did was slump back against the bar, letting out a long sigh.

"Are you alright there Mr. Ward?" asked Roberts, approaching the bar. "You're lookin' a bit pale, if you don't mind my sayin' so."

"Now, Roberts," began Eli, forcing himself to stand, he had an image to uphold after all. "I'm fine, it's just those damned bells. Sounded like nothin' on earth and they just knocked me into a crooked hat." He shook his head, "Damned bells."

Roberts' face soured as he stepped closer and peered up at Eli. "I didn't hear no bells, Mr. Ward, are you sure you're feelin' alright?"

"Fair to middlin'," replied Eli, his tone less friendly than the phrase intimated. "You probably didn't hear nothin' on account of bein' stuck next to Henrietta Green at the time. Her screams could've waken the dead, and I hope she didn't put them hands o' hers anywhere untoward."

Roberts shook his head. "No, boss, I'm fine. Maybe you should take a little air, though?"

Eli was about to rebuke his young bartender for not letting it drop when he saw a large black dog stood in the salon doorway, snarling at him, its teeth bared and its front legs lowered, as if ready to pounce. The growling seemed to grow louder and louder, like the bells, but once again, no-one else in the place seemed to respond. Even those stood nearest to the door, in eyeline of the dog, seemed not to see it. It snarled again, snapping at the air and then tilted its head as if motioning for Eli to follow it.

"Hmm, perhaps you're onto somethin'," muttered Eli as he produced some more tobacco from his pocket. "I'll take a bit of fresh air, maybe check to see how the old town's doin'. You'll be alright in charge here?"

"Sure I will, Mr. Ward. You can count on me," was Robert's chipper response.

"Good lad," replied Eli as he stepped out from behind the bar and towards the door.

As soon as he did, the dog scampered forwards into the darkness and once Eli was outside, he saw it waiting for him at the corner of the bar, leading away from the town centre and towards the station. Eli stopped at the corner and then, with tobacco already in hand, he produced his tin and set about rolling up another cigarette, his last one having been dropped during the earthquake. The dog had moved off in the direction of the station, but when it saw Eli stop, it turned around and snarled at him once more.

"Calm yourself," said Eli, rolling the cigarette and trying not to let his hands shake too much. The bells, the earthquake, the dog... he wasn't a religious man by any means, but he knew the symbols when he saw them. "I know who your master is boy," he said, licking the paper and sealing it. "An' your master's waited this long for me already, so I figure a minute or two more ain't goin' make much difference to Ol' Scratch."

Eli light the cigarette, held it to his mouth and took the longest drag he'd taken in years. He needed it. He needed a drink, too, so he reached into his other pocket and took out a flask of whiskey, knocking back a fair swig of the stuff. "I should prob'ly save some for later, I don't doubt I'll need it," he muttered, before screwing the cap back on and putting it away. He then took another drag on his cigarette and followed the dog deeper into the night as they moved towards the town outskirts and the railway.

As he neared the station platform, he spied two figures stood on it. One was male, one female, and as he neared them, they both seemed almost oblivious to the earthquake, or at least disinterested in it. The odds of catching a train out of town at this time of night, after and earthquake, too, were not good. The track could be in an awful mess and those lazy railroad crews wouldn't start work on anything like that until the morning, so why were they stood here?

He looked first to the man, but didn't recognise him. Something about him suggested he wasn't a talker and, from sizing up visitors to the saloon, Eli took that as a recommendation to keep his distance, so he turned his attention to the woman instead. The platform was dimly lit, but there was enough light to let him recognise the features of one of the few young women in town that he hadn't made a more personal acquaintance with. She wasn't homely by any means, but she was a young, religious type, and she worked at the school and carried herself in the manner that suggested she wasn't easily seduced. Eli couldn't even remember seeing her in the saloon, now that he thought about it, but he'd seen the teacher around the town enough.

"Miss Charlotte," he said, tilting his head towards her, though he wore no hat. "What brings you out here at this time o' night? An' unaccompanied too, from the looks of things." He had lost sight of the dog now that he was at the station, so Eli was trying to bury it in his mind by making small talk instead. "I do so hope everythin' is goin' alright."

@PoetLore

 

[KC]

At first Isadora paid no mind to who the gentleman was until she noted the lack of his removal of hat, something that signified to her either a lack of general respect or some other obscure quality which would soon be confirmed once she had learned of his identity. Hushed whispers between her girls continued in the background, elevating slightly as Bill Hikock introduced himself and enquired on a meal rather than anything to do with carnal desires. There was only one 'Wild Bill Hikock' Izzy had ever heard of, mainly from idle gossip and that man's description seemed to fit the one standing before her.

Without an inch of hesitation, Isadora gave a nod and waved her hand across to the parlour bar,

'Well Mr Hikock, we have a well stocked reserve of whisky to warm your throat n' I am sure a helping of Minnie's beef casserole will do the trick," Izzy replied initially, hoping that although Minnie's beef casserole was not at all up to par with the likes of the warm meals served at the local inn or saloon, Mr Hikock would stay for more than just a meal. The girls in the parlour were quick and responsive to the man's observing gaze, hushing their whispers as he looked them over, Celia pushing her chest out ever so provocatively as she sat on the couch with Ruby who left little to the imagination as she lay her head on Celia's lap, her legs draped across the soft velvet couch and her dress hitched to her upper thighs. The girl sported fiery red hair to match her name, hazel eyes staring at their guest almost hungrily. Alice and Lottie sat at the bar side, both wondering what kind of idiot they had standing in the room and Minnie who wondered why on earth the Madame was offering her cooking up to a guest after all, they didn't regularly serve anything other than drink or sexual favours and she only cooked meals for the working girls.

It became apparent rather quickly to Isadora when Bill pulled a paper from his coat and unfolded it to show a wanted poster that he was solely after information, after all there were few places that could reveal secretive information in bountiful amounts. Her smile widened with the knowledge, knowing that her girls could gain potential business from Mr Hikock while he searched for answers in her establishment. Her eyes fixed upon the paper for a moment as she cast her mind over whether she had seen such a figure, surprised to see the face of a woman rather than the typical male outlaw.

After a moment in the room of compete silence Bill pulled his coat back, exposing the glimmering silver sheriff's badge as he explained here he had come from. The girls traded glances as Isadora shook her head and sighed.

"My apologies sheriff ,I dare say I've not seen her myself... but you are most welcome to ask the girls. I must warn you, asking questions like that in a place like this warrants even the most law abiding officer to have heavy pockets. My girls value their protection and many won't freely offer their observations without some sort of compensation." She explained. Having a sheriff in her establishment was not concerning to her, they provided services no matter a man or woman's title, but where they could be used by the authorities for information, the girls could return the exploitation.

Just as Isadora was about to invite the sheriff to take a seat the ground shook, a deep earthy rumbling which sent glasses rattling across the bar top, Ruby falling from the couch to the floorboards and the girls letting out gasps and screeches in fright. Izzy had to widen her stance to remain upright and in the moment she heard the almighty tolling of a bell, the hairs on the back of her neck sticking out as a cold shiver of worry ran down her spine. Her face paled upon hearing the sound and as she tried to settle herself she found little reprieve. The shaking of the ground had caused the front door to swing upon its hinges, opening to give her a terrifying view of a monstrous hound in the doorway. The sound around her seemed to fade in that moment, the girls screaming in regards to the earthquake but not seeming to see the hound that Isadora faced with Bill Hikock stood in between.


This was no ordinary event and as the ground seemed to stabilise, Isadora's face remained pale in concern as she remembered the only other strange past incident involving the man in the suit. She could barely get out an apology for excusing herself as she stepped past Bill Hikock, leaving the girls and her guests behind as she nervously headed for the hound who by now had turned and headed away from her.


It looked menacing though only when she hesitated in the middle of the road did the hound turn back to growl. Her heartbeat pounded in her chest as Izzy pushed herself to follow as though her life depended upon it. Following cautiously Isadora reached the train station, glancing across the platform where Charlotte Nichols the local school teacher stood straightening her jacket alongside Eli Ward. The last man however was not known to her and looked somewhat menacing alongside the three of them. Isadora moved across the platform hesitantly, her bare arms prickling with goose bumps from the night air.

 

[PoetLore]

Charlotte had been so lost in her own dread that she hadn't even heard Mr. Ward approach her on the platform. A dainty gloved hand flew to her throat as a quick gasp of surprise escaped her lips. "Oh...Mr. Ward..." she said as her hands folded before her, "You gave me a bit of a fright..." His question had her worrying her full lower lip between her teeth for a second or two.


Explaining why she was out at this hour, standing on the train platform alone, was not something she had prepared herself to do at this moment. She hadn't expected anyone else but the priest to be there. But that very thought gave her pause, as she considered why HE might be there as well. Had a hound appeared to him? Had he made a similar deal? if so, what deal had he made, and how had he fared as a result? She let the thoughts swirl around in her mind and remain unasked, at least for the present. "I was returning to my house when the ground began to shake," she said truthfully, "Somehow I ended up here...my nerves have not quite settled..." All true, partly, but not totally.

She lifted her head a bit and drew in deeply of the cold night air, "What brings you to the station at this time of night, Sir?' she asked, "I would think your establishment is still entertaining a few guests." He was correct in his recollection of her, that she had never frequented his place of business. She did not drink or gamble, so there was no occasion for it. He would probably be surprised to know, that she did not think less of him for his chosen business endeavor, but was rather grateful for it. She knew where the men who preferred to drink would be, and she could subsequently avoid that part of town, and thus any possible problems that might arise from dealing with a man in such a condition.

He looked as out of sorts as she felt, and she was about to note as much when she heard someone else approaching. She recognized Isadora Westbrook and smiled a gentle smile at her, "It seems the night is calling forth a lot of people..." She noted the shivering and frowned, "Are you quite well?" she asked, "Was there a problem at your..place, Miss Westbrook?" Earthquakes were known to topple buildings, and she had even heard, entire cities. Those shakes had been enough to do damage, she suddenly thought Shamed filled her mind at the realization that she hadn't given the welfare of the others in town a moment's thought until then. Her head turned and she cast her eyes out and around the town, trying to see if there had been any actual damage anywhere. Looking back at the two, "I do hope everyone is well...did either of you notice anything strange?"

@Kate @KC

 

[Kate]

Eli smiled when Charlotte said he had given her a bit of a fright. For all of his own worries, he could tell when a woman wasn't comfortable and it was clear that the young teacher was far from it right now. The way she stood, the way she held her hands, even the way that she looked at Eli but didn't seem to see him... it was all too clear that she had something else on her mind instead.

When she explained herself, vaguely, and then redirected the conversation to Eli and his reasons, the man just gave a shrug of the shoulders. "Damn saloon's not seen much action tonight, so I've left Roberts in charge. He's a good lad and I've told him he can close up early so long as he closes up right. He'll appreciate that, I'm sure Emma'll be glad to see him home a bit earlier than usual, especially on account of the earthquake." He shook his head, "Dreadful business, that, but from what I saw of the town, there was no real harm done and no-one was hurt. Not so far as anyone's said, any road, but it did clear out a number of my patrons for the night. Goin' home to see their loved ones and all that, it's nice to know that even the drunks get their priorities in order from time to time."

He sighed, glancing down the platform towards the stranger and then back to Charlotte. "Believe it or not, Miss Charlotte, I'm actually here to catch a train. The last one, in fact." He paused for a moment, the realisation dawning on him that this probably would be the last train he ever caught. "I've got to head out of town for a few days on business and I'm taking this train to Jeddesburgh overnight so I can get there early ahead of my," Eli cleared his throat, feeling his mouth suddenly become very dry, "My meeting." It was all a lie, but he hoped it sounded plausible enough that Charlotte wouldn't probe him any further. In truth, he knew why he was here, because he had been summoned, but not what he was there for, or what would happen next, and that was the mystery that was making his mouth so dry right now.

It took a serious effort for Eli not to reach into his pocket and take out his flask, but he knew he needed to hold on to his drink for later. He also felt it improper in front of a lady such as Charlotte Nichols, so he resisted for now.

The sound of boots beating the dust then interrupted Eli as he turned to see Isadora Westbrook approaching, another of the town's faces and another face he was surprised to see at this hour. Charlotte immediately asked how she was, and if she had seen anything strange, sparing Eli from the need to do the same, so he just stepped back to let her woman up onto the platform. Seeing her shiver was too much for the older man to witness, so he took his flask and tobacco tin from his pocket and then removed his coat, placing it around Isadora's shoulders, even if she objected.

"There, Miss Isa, I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I stood by an' watched you catch cold," he said, feeling the chill himself. "Now, what's the matter? Perhaps between Miss Charlotte an' I, we can help to lessen your load?"

@PoetLore @KC

 

[KC]

There was a moment of silence when Isadora was greeted by Charlotte Nichols and then Eli ward, the air thick and no doubt cold enough to warrant one to put on a jacket. But it was in that moment that Izzy's head was working overtime with thought, scrambling to make sense of why the select few people had found themselves there and why the hound had insisted upon her arriving at the rather odd choice of location. It was normal to see Eli Ward after the sun had set, after all he ran the local saloon which would not close until the midnight hour however Charlotte was not often seen as such a time. Perhaps it had been purely because of the tremor, though why she would be standing at the train station platform of all places was confusing. Finally Isadora cleared her throat as she glanced between the two, her hands softly bracing the opposite elbow and rubbing her upper arms to warm herself as she gave the two a gentle smile.

"Evening Miss Nichols, Mr Ward…" Isadora replied in greeting as she nodded. "Oh, quite well…unfortunately this style of dress is not necessarily the most ideal when the sun drops from the sky." She explained the cause for her shivering as Eli placed his jacket coat around her and she accepted it willingly, nimble manicured fingers clutching the sides of the material.

"Thank you kindly, Eli." She expressed.

In time both Eli and Charlotte queried if things were fine with her establishment and whether she was experiencing issues; exactly the kind of questions she wanted to desperately avoid. It was in that moment however that she formulated some kind of response hoping that as she offered it, it would be accepted without further examination.

"Oh the place is still standing well, scared my girls half to death but alas t'was just a shudder." She commented briefly, "Business is slow this evening so I thought it would be a fine opportunity to head over and invite the few lonely men left sleeping rough to take up shelter in the bordello…protection from the cold of course." She offered with the expectation that Charlotte would not be overly open to her kind of lifestyle. She didn't blame her at all, Izzy was quite used to receiving looks and whispers from women in the township who thought ill of her and her establishment.

 

[Hell Hound Woof]

Lincoln Hunsucker
The South Carolina Kid​

Lincoln smile broadened as a young woman moved towards him in the bar. The flirtatious blonde brought herself to his side. He smirked and reached over the bar for another glass. Lincoln set the glass down and began to pour. As he filled her glass he began to introduce himself. He lavishly announced his moniker to her and handed her the glass. With a relaxed smirk he asked her name as he refilled his glass. She began to speak but was interrupted by a loud rumbling and the shaking of the earth. The entire tavern shook with the force of the earth. Lincoln managed his pour and corked the bottle. The girl looked at him bewildered and he smiled at her, but the smile fell quickly as he heard the bells. He looked around at the bar and saw none seemed perplexed by the chiming. Samantha clearly noticed the change in his face.

"What's the problem?" She asked

"Sorry darling," He said, "I think I got to be going now."

"Well why so soon handsome?" She asked laying a hand on his chest.

"Just forgot about some business but feel free to finish off that whiskey."

Lincoln dismissed the girl as grabbed his hat grabbed his hat from the bar. He began walking away from the bar and bumped into a man walking past as he did so. Lincoln pushed his hair out of his face and apologized to the man he'd bumped into. As Lincoln apologized he looked over the mans shoulder, towards the front door. Lincoln was taken aback when he saw the large black hound staring inside from the doorway. He looked towards the other patrons and noticed that none seemed to spot the large black beast. With haste he turned from the man and the black dog. Lincoln placed his hat on his head as he moved to the back door of the saloon. As he passed through the store room he heard a growl on the other side of the door. His right hand darted to his pistol, it slid from the leather holster as his thumb drew the hammer into position. As he pushed open the door he raised the gun slightly and aimed downward. With every inch the door swung wider more of the large black beast was exposed. He looked at it for a second with a look of determination before a cool resolve set over. He squeezed the trigger lightly and set the hammer back into the safe position. He twirled the pistol twice forward then once backwards and into the holster.

Lincoln let out a long slow sigh, "I guess I got no choice in the matter do I then mutt?"

The beast growled briefly before closed it's bared maw and turning to walk away. Lincoln grumbled as he reluctantly stepped out into the street to follow the beast. He reached into his inner jacket pocket to draw out a shiny metal cigar case. He unclasped the lid and let it fold open before snatching one of Marsh Wheeling cigars. He bit off the tip carefully and spat it away from himself. With a resigned smirk he placed it in his mouth. Lincoln's hand snapped the case shut before stuffing it into his jacket pocket. He reached into his outer jacket pocket and drew out a box of matches. He struck one quickly and held it to the end of the cigar in his mouth. Taking multiple puffs as he walked he saw that the dog lead around the edge of the saloon and towards the train station. He took some number of puffs as he walked and leisurely trailed behind the hound, testing the boundaries. The beast was dilligent enough that Lincoln was never more than 10 feet behind it as he approached the station. He spotted a number of people on the platform and recognized one as one of the men from the saloon. The other man on the platform was unknown to Lincoln, like the two women on the platform with him. The saloon owner and two women conversed as Lincoln approached. The dog moved off and Lincoln found his way to the steps assuming this was the place it wanted him to be. He kept his head tucked low and let smoke flow from his mouth. He peeked at the men on the train station and saw that one man wore no guns, the barkeep only his pistol. Lincoln felt more at ease than ever. Yet the sky still held the dangerous rolling clouds and lightning. He looked away from the four others on the platform and drew the cigar from his mouth, letting out a long smoky breath.

 

[PoetLore]

Charlotte tipped her head a bit, "I am not at all surprised to learn you have business elsewhere Mr. Ward," she admitted with honesty, "I had no idea the trains ran this time of night, but then, I have not traveled extensively." She watched as he gave his suit coat to Miss Westbrook with a soft smile of approval.

Miss Westbrook's answer surprised her, though it should not have. She knew that such places were often more hospitable than Inn's during times of catastrophe and need. "How very kind of you, Miss Westbrook," she noted with a genuine smile. Isobel would likely be shocked to learn that Charlotte wasn't one to think herself higher or better than anyone else. She considered herself highly fortunate to have been born into the privilege that she had been, and knew that had fate chosen another path for her, she could and most likely would have found herself in a similar lifestyle as Miss Westbrook. she was in the habit of avoiding places that would cause her undue problems with the people of town, given that she was the caretaker and teacher of most of the children, but she did not look down on anyone.

She was trying not to look down the platform to the other man, who stood apart from them so stoically. He seemed more imposing than he had the last time they had met for some reason. No longer that kindly priest that had saved her sister's life, he loomed as if a demon from the very fires of hell. Her attention was draw when the smell of smoke assaulted her. Turning her head she noticed another man approach but stop short of their group. She did not know his name, but she had seen him walking around town so she nodded politely but did not speak.

More questions filled her mind. Her fingers were fidgeting a bit, though she tried to still them. The waiting was far worse than the meeting would be, she felt totally sure. She drew in a breath and chanced a glance over at the other man forcing herself to make eye contact if he was looking their way, and silently begging him to end her torment and tell her what was expected of her.

 

[Red Thunder]

•Golden City•

It hadn't taken Jimmy long to find enough drink to ease his troubled mind from the pain of wakeful life to the forgetfulness of a drunken stupor, and as Lincoln flirted and wooed Samantha, the farm hand's head had fallen forward, hitting the bar with a thunk. Roberts stared at him impatiently, clearly trying to figure whether it was worth the trouble to remove the vagabond from the place. On the one hand, he wasn't causing nearly the ruckus the Indian had. On the other, Mr. Wars wouldn't want a drunkard drooling onto the hardwood bartop.

Even a saloon has a reputation to uphold, he mused. He'd just returned that damnable woman's drink to the Coors lad and was approaching Jimmy when it seemed like the entire world suddenly lost its head. As the very ground beneath him began jumping this way and that, Roberts grabbed for the bar, trying to steady himself on it. Jimmy, meanwhile, looked like he might sleep through the damn thing. A deep snore issued forth from the man, and- He suddenly sat bolt upright, eyes wide in delirious panic. Automatically his hands held the counter as well, but he stared off into space, not really seeing anything but looking like he was straining to hear something. As the shaking stopped, he moved with the energy of a sober man with a belly full of coffee and bolted out the door.

Henrietta and Adolph left soon thereafter as well, neither seeming inclined to stick around. Yet as she left, Mrs. Green cast a glance over her shoulder, examining both Eli and Lincoln with an odd look and a mischievous grin before disappearing through the doorway.

~

Even with the earth under him shaking, Hicock had remained stoic and resolute, his only action to widen his stance and bend his knees against the rocking of the ground. The rocking slowed and ceased, and Bill glanced around, assessing the room to ensure it had not received damage of concern. Save for some broken glasses and a cracked window pane, all seemed fine.

As Isadora pushed past him, Bill raised an eyebrow, clearly confused as to her sudden departure and not in the least bit happy with the muttered excuse she gave. His jaw worked as he ground his teeth, but he did not follow her. Instead, he turned to the girls, moving to help up those that had fallen to the ground.

"Now. Got some questions." Bill held up the poster again, pausing long enough to glance back out the door after Isadora. "Don't need to remind you that not answering my questions is obstruction, right? Ain't a patient man, neither.

"This lady?" He pointed a weathered finger to the picture, "Ms. Oatman? She's outta Texas, but she spent a lot of time with the Injuns. Grew up with 'em. And she's been accused of kidnapping, so we're thinking she might be making this little girl relive her own childhood. So."

Ruby, who'd managed to extricate herself from the floor and sit down on the couch with a rather less coy demeanor than she'd had, cleared her throat nervously.

"I don't know if it's her, now, but I did see a woman and a girl I ain't seen before on the edge of town as I was making a round earlier." She pushed a lock of hair away from her eyes. "Girl probably weren't but ten. Dunno where they went after."

Hicock nodded, eyes narrow. Oatman had avoided him for some time. It sounded like he might actually be closing in.

~

Olive thanked Charolette profusely as she stepped into the church. The girl hadn't followed immediately. Her brow was furrowed, as if in thought, and she was staring at something. Olive clicked her tongue and grabbed the girl's hand.

"Marnie. C'mon, honey. Les' git inside."

Marnie nodded, still looking at the empty spot on the ground as she allowed the older woman to drag her into the church building. As Charolette closed the door, Olive fell into the nearest pew, the tension bleeding from her frame in waves. She supposed she should be grateful that their horse had gotten this far before breaking its ankle, and though she felt bad for the poor thing, the frontierswoman wasn't going to sacrifice time to tend to the thing. She needed to get the girl to safety; the elders had warned her to get Marnie to the city quickly. And they were finally here.

But now what?

~

As Lincoln, Eli, Charlotte, and Isadora had gathered, the Man with the Steely Eyes had remained impassive, staring east as he drew irregular breaths through his cigarette. The chatting died down; finally. This was business, and though he was certainly looking forward to sweet revenge, this was no pleasure venture. Taking a last drag, he extracted the cigarette from his mouth and threw it onto the platform planks, extinguishing it with a grind of his toe before the fire could catch on the weathered wood. His arms crossed on his chest, the Man raised his voice, though he didn't turn.

"Fulfilling a promise can be a bitch," he intoned, utterly emotionless. "You've got absolutely no desire to be here, and if you could, I'm sure you'd be elsewhere. Hell, I don't want to be, and I'm the one that called you here."

Suddenly the sound of straining and scraping filled the air, punctuated by low growls and barks. A form appeared, dragging another form behind it. It was one of those black dogs from before, muzzle in a death grip around a man's wrist. His face was tattooed, and he looked more than a little Indian in anscestry. Jericho was spitting and cursing, doing his best to extract his arm. The Man with the Steely Eyes turned his head to look at Jericho impassively.

"This job needs doing, but I'm not about to work with someone that won't make good on a promise."

"Fuck you! I know what the hell you are! You never made good on your promise!"

"But I did," came the answer. "I never failed to give you leads to your plantation owner. It's not my fault you never said you wanted to actually find him."

Rage filled Jericho's face. Shifting, he made to grab for a pistol, his intended action with the gun very clear. But his fingers merely brushed the handle. The dog released his wrist and sprang for his throat. Its massive jaws wrapped around his neck, and with an effort the beast ripped it free. Jericho's hands went to the wound, but to no effect. The damage was done, and a few moments later, the twitching of his body ceased.

The Man looked up from the scene, meeting the rapidly approaching figure of Jimmy as he stumbled up. Seeing the carnage, Jimmy stumbled than tried to move left and away from it before falling onto the ground in drunken terror. The Man lifted a hand to point east down the train tracks. On the eastern horizon, a green light was growing stronger.

"There's a train heading this way as we speak, and aboard it is a man. A dark man in a brown coat and a black hat. His name is Charn." For the first time since seeing the others, his eyes flashed and grew red in unfathomable anger. "You are to kill him. Kill him, and do it brutally, or else you end up like your friend. Do it, and we'll be even."

A whistle, shrill and clear and somehow empty, echoed across the night sky to pierce the ears of those who stood on the platform. The green light suddenly became stronger, as if it was shining directly, and it grew steadily brighter. The telltale chug of a steam engine could now also be heard, though it was far far a deep sound than any earthly steam engine. The train itself couldn't be seen, but if the light were any indication, it would be at the platform in a few more minutes. The Man with the Steely Eyes glared at them each in turn.

"Are you clear on the terms?"

@KC @PoetLore @HellHoundWoof @Kate

Spoiler

Next GM post on the 31st! The train will make it to the platform. I'm gonna try to be better about replying for things between GM posts, so if y'all want to approach Jimmy at all, or even the Man, that's all good.