Nicotine and Dark Ale

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Mornings are never a good time to do something important. There's always that sense of forgotten sleep, the seconds dwindling by as one sits on the bed looking into nothing in particular. A man forgets who he is while he's in the state. Coming out of the womb was never as bad as sitting erect in the bed trying to adjust to atmosphere. Eyes ever blinking and not seeing anything. Senses going askew until further notice. It's the sitting leeway of the day, where one tries to find oneself before they get to important matter.

Me, personally, I don't do well with either. Mornings never cut it for me, never really have. I think it's all a misunderstanding about the time of day. I always seemed to have to wake up to get ready to do something, and, once I do it, I have nothing to do for the rest of the day. Why is it that, soon after I sleep, I have to do some kind of work? I never understood that yet I have always requested for something to be done at dawn.

It was my own fault that Derby nearly trampled my toes into molasses that morning when I hustled him over to the corner of Birchwike and Pinton street, the corner of Old Rocken's Pup. I always take a gander up at the sign, pulling my lips into a confused frown. I always thought they misspelled the word 'Pub' and put 'Pup' in the title in its place, but I will never question that misconception out loud. I heard from some old sleazy cat woman that a man did that one time and, two days later, was infested with rabies. Dricker sure had some high levels of insanity and chaos here; it's a wonder why I even stuck around this long.

Derby neighed in annoyance for I don't know what number of time, but whining wasn't going to stop me from pulling him up to that bar. We were the earliest to get there by the looks of it. Good ole Jaxin, always being a step ahead of the game. I didn't look like a team player though. For starters, I had no hat; just a head full of tousled, cacao colored hair that was stringy with morning dew. How dew happened to get on my hair, it's a wonder to me, but it was there. I didn't wear the usual button-up get-up I usually dressed in. Most of my good clothes was in the bag hanging next to Derby's ass. I settled with a light blue tee and some kind of denim. It didn't matter which kind. Just Denim.

"Early ale is the best ale, yeah?" I lifted my head up to put on a smile for the Chuck Rocken. That man had more mood swings the a woman in heat on a 103 degree day with no water. You had to be careful with that one. He wasn't as uptight as Big Paul was, but Big Paul didn't own ale. Sure, money is a little more valuable than an ale shop, but imagine if Big Paul didn't have a dime to his name. Would you be more uptight about cool, dark ale or some horse feed?

Yeah, I thought so too.

"I wish I could getta tall one, Rock," I replied, while we both slapped each other's shoulders before pulling away to not be borderline bromance. "I could use one, too. Ya know how hard it is packin' at the crack of dawn witha mare who don't know his own ass from a hole in the groun'?"

"I suspect it be much like you and yer finances,"he retorted back. "They're both retarded."

"Hey, now!" Derby even huffed at that one. Rocken coughed, laughed, and spit out something brown that would have made Derby chuck him right in his balls if it landed on his hooves. The horse was not retarded, and neither was my finances! They were both...sensitive, is all. It didn't matter to me one way or the other, turning away from the man to check the straps of my bag tied around Derby's muscled hips. I heard the distant trotting of another horse behind me. Rocken heard it to.

"Another one of ya comin' this early in the morn'? Suspicious actin', that is."

"Oh, calm yourself, Rock. It's a party!"

"I don' wan' no party up in my pup."

"In your what, now?" He didn't bother answering. He just gave glaring eyes towards those that rode up to the shop.

"Hope y'all got money, waltzin up to my shop lookin' like tumbleweed!" Like I said, the man has a terrible mood swings.
 
Emma walked towards her horse, smiling while petting her. She had made sure the horse was fed and hydrated before they started on their little trip.

Leaping up onto her horse, she heard two women walking by her giggling as they looked at her. With that Emma doesn't bother saying something, but just puts her hat on and ignores the two.

Emma whipped the reins, making the horse gallop towards the store. She could see two men that seemed to be waiting, so she suspected it was them.

"Morin'." She greeted them with a smile. As well hearing one man speak, but she just answered with a shrug, not caring.

 
Aurora rode up to the...pup? That couldn't be right. She squinted at the sign and sighed. This town was so weird. She was glad she was getting out. There were three people gathered around in front, one of whom was the woman with the white horse who had almost run over her and then rushed off before Aurora had been able to talk to her much. She dismounted and Muffy barked at her.
"Stay, Muffy. Watch after Delilah." She patted her mare on the neck and headed inside with one of her canteens. She had one for water alright, you'd have to be crazy to ride out without proper water. But Aurora found she slept much better on the trial if she had something stronger with her too. When she didn't find the owner outside, she came back out.
"Any of you the barkeep?"
 
Dell walked in, hands in his pockets, cool as a cucumber. He was a regular here - though his taste in drinks was far from consistent. The man drank whisky one day, and was forking out for a glass of whatever the hell else brew was lurking behind the counter. If he really 'needed to forget,' as he said, he'd pour two in together. Odd, to some, but business was business, and Dell didn't cause enough trouble. Only people shifting away from him and his fists. He nodded and tipped his hat, as was customary, but performed no more than those actions in the way of formalities. In its own way, this would hardly have been surprising. He wasn't exactly a man of few words - he had spoken quite a bit the the earlier. He just kept to himself sometimes, and in some places. He sat at a table, probably looking over the group, evaluating how long it'd take before he died, and who'd kick the bucket before he did. Probably. It was impossible to tell behind those goggles of his. The fact that his hat was pulled down a little did nothing to help his cause. Fact was, he wasn't there to drink now - he was there, strictly on business. He didn't have a horse - he'd probably get one on the way out. The keeper of the stables owed him a favour - he didn't trust Dell, like any sane person in the area. But when someone turns a mass of rotting wood into something that resembles a stable before you ran out of business, and you can't pay them in money, you have to pay them something.
 
Lesley didn't so much ride up to the "Pup" on Adda so much as she did cling onto the horn of her saddle. Her body swayed as the horse trotted, making it apparent she didn't have the necessary strength to sit straight. It seemed Lesley had had a bit too much of the "liquid courage" the night before. Her head throbbed with each of Adda's footsteps. Rock's shout made her head pulse painfully. She wore a wide brimmed hat, along with her loose white blouse and black riding chaps, under her long brown skirt. The hat was tipped low on her head in an attempt to shade her eyes from the sunlight which was slowly peeking over the horizon. Lesley bought herself a room to sleep the night in, but after the level of alcohol she consumed she might as well have slept in a ditch.

Lesley had spent almost all of her remaining money the night before. No one in this town trusted her enough to sell on credit, and she figured she'd be rich soon anyway. She had fed, watered, and rested her horse. Turned out the general store had some horse feed stocked away. Lesley supposed they had better get some more. She also bought herself a little six shooter which now rested on her hip. Who knew when she'd need it.

The man, Rocken, made Lesley lift her head to look at those who had already gathered. Seemed like she was later in getting there than she planned, she hoped to have arrived first. When she reached the group, she quickly noticed that Dell was the only one without a horse. Certainly he'd slow them down. Next to draw her attention was the angry looking Rocken, Lesley could only assume he was the owner of this fine.... Pup. "Um... money," she grumbled, reaching back into her saddle bag. "Yeah, I got six dollars," Lesley turned to show it to Rocken. It was really all she had left. "If you could get me somethin' for the road... I'd be mighty pleased," she said. She didn't care for rabbit drop soup... if there was one cure she did like for the headaches, it was more drink. She looked again at those gathered, and noticed there was one new. Was Jaxin bringing the whole town? Ugh, and she had one of those little barking dogs too. Made her distracted. What was she going to do again? Oh yeah.

"Hey, you," she said, gesturing to Dell. "How much you weigh?" He was big, burly big, which Lesley knew weighed more. She didn't like the way he always seemed to be hiding something. Not that she expected everyone to be telling everyone about their business, but he just seemed down right suspicious. Still though, if Adda could hold him, she didn't want to get slowed down. Not that she gave any explanation to her question right off, which might have been a good idea. A question like that might just catch someone off guard.
 
Lil' Joe watched the Pup from the crest of a small hill just east of town. It didn't give him the best vantage point but he had decided on concealment over a detailed view. Ghost grazed on sporadic tufts of sage and grass about 10 feet down the leeward side of where he now laid low sprawled out on his belly.



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From where he laid he could make out riders as they gathered outside of the Pup. So far he had counted five. Somewhere after he had left, the group had picked up another member. She seemed to have a furry little dog with her, the kind that yipped all the time. He'd have to keep that in mind if he ever elected to sneak into any of their future camp sights. How in the hell she was planning on taking that little thing on a roadtrip/rescue mission was beyond him and he was glad that it wouldn't be his problem to figure out. He didn't know much about her other than that she seemed to be sort of a transient or "town-hopper" as Lil' Joe called them. Never staying in one place too long. Usually it meant there was more to the story and it wasn't the kind of story they were looking to share. Town-hoppers like her could almost always be counted on for some good juicy secrets.

The first to arrive was Marshal who chatted a bit with "Teeter-Totter" Rocken. Lil' Joe had started calling him that after witnessing the man's severe mood swings. That one needed to cut down on the coffee or "cut up" on the whiskey. Whatever it took to level him out but what did Lil' Joe know he sure as hell wasn't no Flounder doctor. Next in was "Spread em' then dead em'" followed by "Town-hopper," "Crazy," and "The Stranger." Lil' Joe had never seen her before which meant that she was new to town. He would need to do some intel gathering to properly add her to the mental catalog of people and places he always kept up to date and readily available. For now his observations told him that she was a woman accustomed to hard work and maybe even long days on the road. She was probably a quite "sturdy" woman although you wouldn't be able to tell it by the way she rode up to the rest of the group.

No one else joined them so Lil' Joe figured that was it. He would hold his position and then trail them once they left the town keeping out of sight and doing what he did best.

"Looks like it's going to be a party of five...and a couple of ghosts, eh girl?" he said over his shoulder to his newly acquired companion. Without looking up from her grazing, the horse blew out her lips in a seemingly indifferent response. Lil' Joe exhaled in a snort of amusement. "Is that the way it's going to be?" Her only response was the familiar sound of powerful jaws chewing and he returned his eyes to the Pup and the group of soon-to-be travelers. The sun continued to rise behind him and its warmth was a welcomed addition to his own small traveling party of +two.
 
The sun was not even halfway up past the horizon yet, so I bet we were making some mighty good time. The plan was to go into the Pup, buy anything that we needed as individuals and be on our way. There was no way in the hell that we were all buying group supplies for the entire trip. No. Some people got stingy and wanted more water than the other. Someone else would complain about how half of their cherry bread crumble had suddenly gone amiss and blame it on the first person with red cheeks. It was a disaster waiting to happen and I was not going to be a part of it at all. I like to have my own stuff too, you know? Knowing that the ale is my ale; well, that's the best kind of ale, isn't it? The kind you don't have to share with the rest of the company?

Rocken's beady brown eyes darted from everybody around his shop and the sweat was starting to rain down his face. He was as nervous as he could have been and I couldn't really blame him. I had quite the group. Miss Jean happened to give Rocken a sly look which made the man clear out his throat or choke on the inside. Either one would have been fine if it got him to stop staring.

"Mornin', Miss Jean. Glad to see you made it early like us all. I'd hate to have to pick you up from your house like some little school mister," I commented, making sure the other side of Derby's straps were secure. The horse was going to be taking a very long walk into Flounder Fish Land and had a heavy burden to carry: me and the ale I was about to purchase. Just after seeing her, the others followed suit. Dell and his...mass. That-stranger-woman-I-don't-think-I-got-a-name-to-but-will-do-it-soon and her mare. A strange yapping caught my ears when I looked down to a small, miniture dog that couldn't have been higher than mid leg. My lip turned up into a cross expression before I looked to it's owner. That's when I noticed that I hadn't seen her before. She certainly looked like the type to stay indoors and out of the way of some conversation and gold searching. That was my guess, anyway. I could be wrong, so I just went with it. The dog? I'll get to that in a second. I tipped my head and counted out loud like math was some sort of foreign jibberish to me.

"One...two....three....yep, four. That's all there is. Y'all get all y'all need from the Pu...from the shop."

"What in dog ball's hell are ya doin' with these lasses and Dell?" Rocken asked, face an even darker red than when Emma sent him the look. I shrugged naturally as if I didn't know what he was talking about. Probably wasn't good since Rock was always in someone's business. He owned an ale shop, for Christ's sake. If he wanted information, he'd pour with a heavy hand. He always had a way of finding things out, but I wasn't going to fall into his early morning confused games. Either that or don't say anything. That works too.

"We're ridin' out into the sun, Rock. Like the old stories used to say. Nothin' more. Just ridin' out into the good ole sun."

"The sun's in the East. Y'all ridin' out to the East?" Dammit. See? I knew I shouldn't have said anything.

"Er..." I dashed a look to the group, nodding at Dell so he could speak up and save my ass. The last thing we all wanted was for Rock to find out where we were going, and Dell did say he had information. I hope he was good with lying, because if not, we're all going home to our middle-aged wives and husbands.

Damn, enough depressing myself, already. I don't have nothing at home but a butter churner.
 
Lesley was offering money to Rocken, so he must be the barkeep. She handed him some money and her canteen.
"Likewise. Whiskey please." Then she turned her attention to the group that was forming. They were obviously meeting up for some common purpose. If the horses meant anything, they were riding out. Whatever their game was, maybe she would be able to get in on it. It wasn't as if she had anything better to be doing.
"Where're y'all headed this fine morning? I'm headed out East, maybe we can ride together for a spell. There's safety in numbers and you never know when you'll have a run in with bandits in these parts."
 
Emma tries remembering how much money she has made since the last time.

"Only 11." She answers the man, that seemed to be choking a little.

"Mister," She looks at the man a bit concerned. "You alright?"

When the man answers, she turns her head thinking she sees someone on a hill, out the corner of her eye. Yes, and he seemed to be looking right at us. She smirked and blew a kiss at towards him, then turned back towards the group smiling.

She heard the woman Lesley speak next. Asking how much the man weighed. "What on Earth kind of question is that, Miss?" Emma giggled a little.
 
When Lil' Joe turned back to the group he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. "Spread 'em" seemed to be looking right at him. He couldn't make out her actual eyes from this distance but in the back of his head he had a distant feeling that he hadn't felt in months. What was it? What in fiery hell was it? "Shit...," he said frozen in place. He remembered. It was that knowing feeling when you realized someone was looking at you. "Shit, shit, shit...," repeated. Ghost blew her lips out again below him as if to tell him to stop interrupting her breakfast. He ignored her. To his dismay the feeling grew and then dismay gave way to dread as he watched her casually lift her hand to her mouth and blow him a kiss. "I'll be a bitch's runt," he thought to himself, "How in the hell did she"...and then it hit him right between the eyes as though her kiss really had found him. And it packed a small wallop. Maybe he should rename her "The Black Widow." She must have caught his movement when he turned to talk to Ghost. After blowing the kiss she turned back to the group as if nothing had happened but he knew better than to hope he was mistaken. He had dropped his guard for one second and it had cost him.

"Nothing I can do about it right this second," he thought to himself. He was a survivor and one of the first things a survivor had to learn was how to deal with mistakes and failures. You couldn't let the mistake grow too big in your mind. You had to accept it, adapt, and change your game plan. Learn from it sure, but don't panic and don't do the foolish thing of kickin' yourself too hard and letting it drag ya down. He had chastised himself the appropriate amount and his survivor's mind was already thinking of two different ways to remedy the situation.

He decided on the simplest plan, which more often than not was the best plan. He would move. That's it. Break contact with this hill and set up on another one that would allow him to continue to watch the group's exit. Ever so slowly he inched his way down the hill toward Ghost until he was sure his head would no longer be visible. Once he was next to Ghost he surveyed the area around him looking for another place of concealment. There. Just to the North was another suitable location. It wasn't far but he didn't want to take his eyes of the group for too long. There was one primary way out the town for folks heading east but he didn't want chance them going another way and have to stumble around looking for 'em. Walking around blind could be costly. All he really needed was to distance himself from where she had seen him. That way if they headed in his direction he'd have a little breathing room to decide his next move.

Grabbing Ghost's reigns he led her to the spot he had chosen. It took him a second to get her head up away from the grass but she finally complied and to his immense relief and satisfaction she remained quiet and moved softly. They were going to get along just fine. He found another patch of grass for her to graze and crawled his way up to the top of the second crest. Peering over it, he saw the members of the party tightening the straps on their mounts apparently having got whatever it was they had wanted at the Pup. "Not long now," he thought to himself. All he had to do was stay low, stay patient, and hope that "Spread 'em's" talent with men was more honed toward grinding and binding 'em rather than finding and...well...catchin' 'em "he guessed."
 
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Dell sighed, and stood up. This was his one, whether he liked it or not. He had two choices - one, threaten to tell how the barkeep had poisoned his wife. Two, lie his way out of it. Seeing as nobody had really liked his wife in the first place - outside of bedroom doors, anyhow - lying seemed the better option. And if there was one thing Dell loved doing, it was twisting information in his favour. The bug guy trudged over to Rock, his hat still pulled down, but a vaguely lighter tone on his voice. It never hurt to not be a brute when trying to convince someone politely.
"Now, listen here, this trip ain't nothing special," he began, lifting his hat slightly, but keeping the goggles firmly in place, "Unless you like travelling circuses. As it so happens, one of them ones happens to be passing by the area. Well, I say that, but have you ever seen a circus go out of its way to come to a dusty old town like this? I certainly ain't, that's for sure. Now, considering this, how often do you think I'd get to see what they do there? I only ever seen one as a boy, and I want to see more. Turns out these folks had nothing better to do for the best part of who knows how long, so we decided to head out and try and catch the thing before it saunters on out of the whole damn country. Hey, don't shoot me a glare or nothing, I just wanted to see what they're doing with elephants right now. I ever tell you about where one man was able to stick a pitchfork?"
 
Rock was half listening to what Dell was telling him, I could tell. He had his stubby hands filled to the fingertips in money so he didn't seem to care about words anymore. Some of the people made their way into the shop to get the necessary items, but Rock wasn't even paying attention. I don't believe he made that much money in a day, seeing as though one bottle of ale was exactly one dollar. Expensive, that poison was. Everybody else seemed to have money sprouting out of nowhere, but I did well to mind my own business. However they maintained the money wasn't a matter to me or Rocken for that matter.

"Man. Some mornin'."

"Some mornin' indeed," I responded, quick enough to catch the question from that mystery girl. About that time in my head, I got tired of calling her that. I liked the thought of a mysterious woman just as the next rowdy man would, but I liked to be civil when it came with money. At least be on a name to name basis. I took a look at her, my eyes trailing up and down her body, careful not to linger on too many parts. Dricker women loved to follow eyes and watch lips.

"I don't think he took well to that question, Miss. You know how them men with the muscles get when you ask about their size. All sorts of testosterone drops. Who are ya, by the way? I don't think I've seen you 'round here and I hate saying 'Miss' without a name to follow it. Makes me sound like some sorta stranger."I added, a laughing smile on my lips. Hopefully the lady knew how to take a joke or it was gonna be a long haul to Flounder Land. I could think of a joke out the tip of my hat if I had one on, but that all would have to wait. I realized that what Dell said was, while being very tempting, hard to pull off. I don't think all of us want to accompany big Dell to some traveling circus. Half of Dricker town knew that the man did everything he did alone. Why would he suddenly need 4 more people and a dog to come with him? Was Rocken perceptive enough to notice that?

"32 so far..." Nope. He's still as dense as ever. "Who you smoochin' at over yonder, lass?" This I had to see. I turned around to see Emma Jean blinking innocently at both me and Rocken. There was something about that smile, I knew it the moment I saw it. Hell, didn't everybody know it? If she really wasn't a whore, she had a strange way of showing it. People said they recognized Emma Jean coming when they smelled the sex radiating off her. That's going too far. Sun would have already burned the sweet stench off of her by then. Still, she wasn't just kissing the sky, was she? I chanced a look at the crevice to the right of us, squinting through the blinding sun of the early morning. I saw nothing but grass and dirt.

"Money making you delusional, Rock?"

"Probly'. Let me check to see if y'all didn't steal half my merchandise. A heavy penalty, that is."he mumbled, not really caring about it as much as the weight of the bills in his hand. Luckily, he was doing that just as Aurora got done asking her ridiculously stupid question. My body drained of blood for the second when I snapped her a hard look. I went through all that trouble to get Dell to come up with a lie and she goes and throws the East out like that?

"Watch it!"I hissed at her, walking so close to her that I had basically gotten a couple of inches from her face. Uncomfortable distance without a hat. "I'll take you with me if you don't say a word about anythin' pertainin' to this here trip. Oh, and if you can get the dog to shut up. If it don't, that's just one less stop to the food market for us, ain't it?"I added with a smirk. I wheeled around and faced the group with a plain smile. A bunch of cowpeople wanna be's and a damn dog. The Flounder's are going to love us.

"I'm ready if y'all are."
 
Aurora smacked the would-be leader of the expedition on the back of his head. "Do not get that close to me without my permission, twat." Then she turned around and got back onto her horse.
"Shush shush Muffy, these people have sticks up their arses."
 
Dell, while he was still a man who showed few of his feelings to the general public, and usually made it obscure as to what they were, made his next gesture pretty clear. With his gloved hand curled firmly into a fist, he slammed the counter lightly - though most would say that was him slamming it with moderate force. He was gritting his teeth a little, and you wouldn't need his goggles of to tell he was going to hate the trip. Or, at least, one person on it.
"Rock," he grumbled, "Remind me again, WHY in God's name AM I going with these people?"
Without waiting for an answer, Dell stood abruptly up, and replaced the stool. He himself was lucky - after all, he needed both a horse, and an excuse to leave the misfits before he smacked Aurora upside the head. Then he remembered that he didn't hit women. He'd have to settle for kicking her dog later on, when she wasn't looking. So, instead, he simply settled for refusing to tip his hat in her direction as he exited, saying something about only being across the path. The stables were there, and so was his horse. Well, not his horse, to be exact. But for all the time it was going to spend with him, it might as well have been. A high-pitched squeal would be heard about a minute after Dell entered - he made sure the little debt he owed wasn't forgotten. How? That was going to be a mystery. Everybody could guess he wouldn't tell. And the shopkeep would probably be whimpering for a while now.
 
Aurora smirked as the big man slammed his fist down and stormed across the street. Men were such children sometimes. Did he think behavior like that would intimidate a lady such as herself? This was clearly another ensemble of individuals who would spend their time underestimating her, and that was fine by her. When she got treated like a brat it just meant that she wasn't suspected of being dangerous. Let them go on thinking that.
They'd better all have proper provisions because she surely would not share. Except perhaps with the girl. Aurora hadn't been watching her when she'd supposedly blown a kiss to someone but she didn't doubt the girl had done it. She radiated a kind of ferocity that appealed to Aurora.
 
Lesley waited atop Adda for her six bottles of ale. She was in no state to be hopping off her horse and prancing around, just to climb back on like some freakin' acrobat, not unlike the ones Dell was trying to convince Rocken they were seeing. Seemed like a good lie to her. Hopefully the six bottles would be enough to last her, though she was expecting more for her dollar. Some stingy prices they had going on around here. Something akin to robbery if you asked her humble opinion. No one did though. She noticed that Dell never gave her an answer, and when he came back out of the pup, he seemed a bit angry. She couldn't tell if it was her or the new woman with the mutt that had turned his mood sour. Jaxin's comment made her think it might have been her.

"Ah, it's un'erstandable. Women don' like that question neither." She figured it would blow over soon, not letting it bother her much. Lesley shifted slightly in her saddle, stretching her legs out of her stirrups. If she didn't do this often, she'd soon be walking with legs spread wider than everyone seemed to think Emma's were. His next question made her blink in surprise. "Eh? Why I'm sure I told you..." she drifted off, her pounding head making it hard to remember. "Well, I'm Lesley Craw in any case, you can call me whichever you like. But don't be makin' up no names." She returned the laughing smile. The look he gave her was lost on her. For someone with a hangover, she sure was in a good mood. Must be the promise of a few more bottles. She was itching to open up one now, but she didn't think it would look good to be drinking this early in the trip, so she held off.

When Jaxin looked about at Emma, she automatically shot a look back there herself. She saw no one, so she quickly turned about to mind her own business. That's when the new girl spoke up. Lesley was able to keep her silence until she slapped the back of Jaxin's head. Her "paycheck" depended on this man being able to hold it together and pull them through this little mission of theirs.

"Hey," she said, looking down at the woman from atop Adda, who was growing impatient. "It's poor sportsmanship to be hittin' a man you know ain't goin' a hit you back. If you start feelin' the need to hit someone, you got two ladies here who'll put up a fair fight." Lesley felt the need to keep it rather civil. They were still in Dricker and causing a scene would only mess things up. She did want to get a clear message across though.
 
"I'd rather brawl with a man than get bullied by one who thinks I won't dare swing at him," said Aurora, eyeing up the other woman, "and don't be so keen to volunteer the girl for a fight with me. You might get her killed."
 
"Ladies! Ladies! Woah, now!" In any other case, this would have been hot.Two ladies fighting amongst each other in the early dawn with the new peeks of the afternoon warming in over the crowd. A bar with enough Ale to send a man to his grave with a crocodile smile on his face and crossed hands over his chest. Some women with not too much of a care in the world about the little things, but ready to get all riled up when one man in particular get's smacked across the back of his head. Mind you, the smack didn't hurt at all; it was more of a shock and warning than anything. I did violate the poor lady's face and I did get a little too close for her comfort, but, to me, that just meant she wasn't a trooper. The mysterious woman, now known as Lesley to me, stood in my defense.

I began to wonder if she was drunk.

"Now, if we're gonna do this, we're gonna do this as a team, not as some piss-firing backway girls and boys, you see what I'm sayin'? We're talkin' about some..."I bent my voice low to a whisper..."riches here. Riches that could make us the next millionaires in the world. I wouldn't wanna waste sucha beautiful fantasy just because a lady get's her britches in a bunch when I get close." I turned around to give Aurora a good stare into her eyes. The color was impossible to make out from the distance I put between us after the smack, but she still had the same intensity as before.

"I am what I am, and that's a man. Learn well to deal with it. If I wanted ya' dead, don't sell me short just because you're not dancin' with the Reaper yet. You need me to get what you want, and I ain't no law, but I can enforce some rules." My sentence stood there amiss an eerie silence before I looked everyone of them in the eye. Emma still had that far-off smile like she had taken some paradise vacation without us. Dell was pissed off and I wasn't about to ask him why. We were the only two men on the trip but that didn't mean I was about to get fancy with him and discuss our feelings. Aurora got the hint and didn't say anything to me, which, I assume, is a good thing. Lesely seemed tired of the entire ordeal or impatient to get her hands on something. It was going to be fun figuring out what that something was.

"Hey! I'm missin' about a quart of Dark Levee Shine!"

"And we ride." I winked, grabbing a hold of Derby's reigns while managing to squeeze my bottom onto her back. She snorted in anticipation and annoyance at the sudden weight on her back, but she might as well got used to it. It was going to be a good, long ride to Flounder Land. The others followed suit, Aurora taking more time than usual to fumble with her mutt. The door to the Pup swinged open to reveal a red faced Rocken.

And a double barrel.

"JAXIN, YOU SONOFABITCH!" POW! Derby knocked up some dirt in fear that the shot might have been aimed at her, but I wouldn't kill myself over the possiblity. I tipped an invisible hat down to Rocken, flashing him the same Dudely Do-Right smile.

"Some mornin', ain't it, Rock?" I would probably never see the man again, but I didn't want him to send me to the maker, so I nudged Derby off into a speeding trot, hoping to hell that the others had enough since to follow.

"GIMMIE BACK MY MONEY YOU BUNCH OF WHORE PIGS!" He shot off another round or two, but my mind was too far focused on the horizon in the trip ahead. I wonder if we make it there alive or would we piss off every stranger we knew on the way. Ah well. At least we have ale.
 
"So far so good," Lil' Joe thought to himself as he continued his surveillance from his new place of concealment. Spread 'em hadn't taken another glance at his old spot let alone his new one and he felt pretty confident that he had successfully managed to imitate the characteristics of a ghost yet again. Unfortunately, his success didn't give him the pleasure it so often had before. In place of that well known feeling was a gnawing sensation of emptiness and the slow grinding of massive gears working hard to overcome their resting inertia in the desire to achieve their working rpm. He knew she had seen him, the question was, what was she going to do about it and why hadn't she done it already? He had seen "Teeter Totter" and Marshal look in his general direction after she had made sure to let Lil' Joe know she was aware of him yet both of the men appeared to be looking blindly. Neither one of their glances seemed to have found their mark and Spread 'em didn't seem inclined to help their aim none. Ultimately, that was just fine with Lil' Joe. However, in a way Spread 'em couldn't have known, it was also mildly cruel.

Lil' Joe had a mind for working out puzzles and mysteries. It was part of his attraction to secrets and information. Secrets and information were like the skeleton keys that could open "any and every door" in the stories Claire had once told him. Lil' Joe wasn't a child anymore and he didn't believe all those stories but he had seen information and secrets faithfully unlock countless "doors" in short life. With secrets and information, Lil' Joe had the power to enter places others couldn't or didn't want to, or didn't want others to. Since becoming forgotten and unnoticed this power was always his, however, in the span of a breath Spread 'em had shown him that for the first time in a long time someone else might have a skeleton key that they might be able to use on him. He was fairly confident that she didn't think of the situation the same way he did but it was a good reminder to him that he wasn't really an apparition and that others just might know how to handle secrets too. "I'm gonna have to keep a sharp eye on that..." he began thinking when the sound of gunfire broke him out of his uncharacteristic introspection.

"What the..." he broke off looking at the party of five just in time to see Marshal throw himself onto his horse and start to ride away from the Pup where "Teeter Totter" stood with a smoking shotgun and a shaking fist. Over the hilly distance a snippet of Teeter Totter's words wafted to Lil' Joe on the heat and wind "...MY MONEY YOU BUNCH OF WHORE PIGS!"

"Daaaannnng," Lil' Joe said to himself, "I sure as hell am glad I'm not down there right now." Apparently this group of mismatched would-be-treasure-hunters weren't above a little acquiring of their own. He respected that. Also, given the fact that Teeter Totter didn't know how to spell forgiveness or restitution (albeit neither did Lil' Joe in the literal sense) Marshal's group must really be committed to finding Big Paul and his gold, "burning bridges" be damned. Lil' Joe had to make one last survivor's gut check about committing himself likewise to trailing this group through Flounder Land in the hope for gold. Dricker was a place he knew. A place he could navigate and stay somewhat in control of his own survival. Taking a deep breath and steeling his resolve, Lil' Joe took one last look over the old town. In some ways he had really "grown up" here but at the same time he had outgrown the need for the security it once had given him. It was time to move on.

Resolved, Lil' Joe covered the distance to Ghost in a short sprint. She looked up at him nonchalantly and seemingly not at all affected by his sudden movements. He grabbed her reins and hoisted himself into the saddle. "Well, girl, it's time for these two apparitions to find a new haunt, eh?" Lil' Joe said amused at his own wit. Ghost, however, looked decidedly un-amused...at least in so much as a horse can. "Ah, forget it," he said as he spurred her into a slow trot in the direction the group had departed while being sure to keep a hill or other terrain feature, as well as distance, between himself and the "rest" of the group.
 
Dell, looking his usual self, rode lazily out behind the group, after shooting the barkeep a blank look. Well, it could have been any kind of look. It was hard to tell behind those goggles. Nonetheless, he kept moving, his horse even more eager to than he was. The thing must've had a hell of a spook when the shot rang out, and it didn't fancy sticking around – made clear when it slipped in with the others. The man himself didn't seem much more phased than he usually did, simply letting the bumps bump him, and the path lead him. He looked casually over the rest of the group, slowly returning his gaze to nowhere in particular, as if it was just a run-of-the-mill, good old Sunday ride.
"In any case, I don't weigh myself. If the horse carries me, I take it. That's what my daddy taught me – if you need a horse to get where you're going, then it's probably somewhere the law means cow crap. You take what's good, and you go. Of course, daddy also taught me never to hit a girl. Never said nothing about shooting one, though."
Though said with about as much enthusiasm as a truant child would read his poorly-written homework, Dell had laid down a not-so-subtle hint, especially to Aurora – so he hoped. In a nutshell, it was essentially 'Piss me off enough, and you'll find a bullet between your eyes.' Dell didn't much care if anybody else cared about what he said, hoping they understood that he was a tolerant man. Just not tolerant enough for people who couldn't keep their traps shut, and couldn't resist the urge to act like the greatest thing in town. He'd killed people in cold blood before, and he'd shot children before. Not that he was proud of it, but he knew he'd be able to do it if he felt like it. "And might I just say, that was a mighty funny thing you went and made that old coot back there go and do, but one part of me tells me I ain't going to be able to set foot in that run-down, dusty old heap of crap I was supposed to call home again. Doesn't matter, I'm splitting, soon as I get where I want to go, treasure or no treasure. Just a heads-up."
 
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