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YuriLucien

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Wild West Town of Deadwood
OOC: OPEN SIGNUPS - Welcome to the Wild West



[fieldbox="Locations, red, solid"]
General Store
Saloon/Hotel
Hotel
Deadwood Jail
Sheriff's Station
Blacksmith's Workshop
[/fieldbox]

[fieldbox="Story Thus Far, orange, solid"]

Avery (volunteer) has woken up just outside the saloon.[/fieldbox]
 
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YuriLucien

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Original poster
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Speed of Light, Multiple posts per day, 1-3 posts per day, One post per day, 1-3 posts per week, One post per week
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Beginner, Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Adaptable
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Male, Female, Futanari, , Primarily Prefer Male, Primarily Prefer Female, No Preferences
Genres
Fantasy, Scifi, Modern, Magical, Mecha, Furry, Anthro, Horror, Historical, everything really.
[fieldbox="Avery Everette, blue, solid"]


The Invitation

Booze and drugs had not yet battered his brains as his parents warned him they would and he had managed to find his way into a very intriguing circle of associates. Collage was over but the parties never stopped, and it was one party into particular he made quite an impression on a new colleague. While the others continued dancing and snorting any substance they could find, Avery found himself engaging in a deep, technological conversation until the sunrise. That one night had lead him to the wildest opportunity yet: he was invited to play with time relevance. How could he refuse?


The Experiment

There was no waiting room. The volunteers were quickly greeted at the location, which was a large, grey building with no windows and one large garage door. No waiting room, just straight up a flight of stairs, down a wide hall and into a room buzzing with computers. Nothing said discreet like the scientists in charge. The group was vaguely introduced to one another as Volunteer A, B, C, etc before being lead into a strange round room. The object in the middle reminded Avery of some strange "scifi" computer you would see in 20th century television. He opened his mouth to talk but was shushed. He glanced around the room at the others, wondering if anyone else thought it was awkward. The scientist gave strict instructions before booting up the computer and having everyone place on the head gear.

This thing better not fry my brain... was all he could think as he strapped in. But fear was quickly replaced with excitement as the screen between the circle of people began to glow. Peering into the past; what a revelation. He had never been a skeptic. The hair at the nape of his neck stood on end. There was giant flash--and then electrifying pain shot through his skull. His hands hurried to grip the gear instinctively ready to tear it off. His brain felt as though it were locked in a microwave just before everything blacked out.


The Arrival

Waking up with a hangover was something the social-media-addict was used to, but as he fought to open his eyes, he knew it was not a hangover he was experiencing. His head buzzed in the very center as his eyes blinked past blurry vision. His body ached none, just his head and the pain was dissipating rapidly. Avery lifted a hand to rub at his eyes and found his arm covered in hay. Instantly his brows furrowed as he shook the stuff off.

"What...?" It was only a whisper. He managed to rest on both his elbows, glancing around to see he was laying in a bed of hay. Above him was shabby wood structure that allowed streams of light to fall through. It wasn't a shed or barn, as there were only two walls, leaving most of the room exposed to the dusty town. Unknowingly, Avery lay in resting station for guests of the saloon.

He managed to find his glasses from his shirt pocket and slid them on. Beyond the wood and hay, the sun was bright on the town before him. Decidedly, whatever he snorted last night had left him in unknown territory. Usually he would wake in a stylish apartment or hotel, but this was way out of his element. He didn't even know where in the city there would a little shack covered in hay. Avery's hands ran across his body, making sure all his belongings were on him.

"Least I wasn't robbed, but where on earth..." He stood on shaky legs, brushing the hay off him. He could see people passing by, some on horses. It appeared to be something similar to a movie set.

Location: Saloon's rest stop for horses.

[/fieldbox]
 
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Von Claussen

Guest
Locations: Sheriff's Office, Jail, Town.
Interaction: None​


Reginald never needed rooster to wake him up in the morning. His eyes were up before first ray of sun bathed town of Deadwood with its golden light. This day was no exception. Eyelids slowly opened and he focused his gaze at the window, waiting for that one moment between night and day to come. He was no romantic, but that one moment was more peaceful than a night without crickets. Slowly he sat up on his bed, shirtless, making a painful grimace as he did so and his right hand instantly touched the scar that bullet left on his shoulder. It healed but mark remained and couple of times per month he would be reminded of it. Dull pain, like a metal that was heating up and then suddenly cooling down right before it would become unbearable. Two hours... That's how long he slept this time and it became a pattern. Two weeks of breadcrumbs worth of sleep at the time all culminating into a single night of long sleep and a snore that even undertaker could hear.

But today just wasn't that day. Two hours. His hand moved from shoulder and to his face. Fingers rubbed still tired eyes, moving down across his cheeks and chin, feeling the still thin stubble that was growing. That won't do. Slowly, he stood up from his hard bed and moved toward one good mirror his office had. With a bit of soap and a sharp razor, he began shaving the sharp stubble. As officer, he had to lead by example in military and he allowed himself to have mustache but never beard. It looked good on him but ever since he returned from army and war, he didn't want to keep hair on his face. No sir, not a single strand of hair was allowed to stick out from his chin, cheeks or lips. New life - new rules... that is how he tried to justify it and it made sense. As the final stroke of sharp razor moved across skin, he washed his face and looked once more into a mirror. It will do.

Despite the lack of good-man's sleep, he didn't feel tired. By now, morning came into town of Deadwood once more and it was Reginald's cue to leave his office. Hastily he put on his shirt buttoning it up to his neck. Next were leather boots and holster with his pistol and to add final touch, long coat with silver sheriff badge attached just above lapel. Decent look for a decent man. On the way out, he picked up his hat and placed it on just before he entered the world once more. Town is waking up... stores are opening, saloon preparing to accept it's most 'illustrious' of guests. Everyone needed to be somewhere. As for Reginald... he was where he needed to be but before he can do that, he needs to do one tiny ritual.

Holding his rifle leaned against his shoulder he made his way toward the jail, tipping hat to every citizen he met, offering a brief smile and a simple 'Mornin' to them. It was a good town, usually quiet and respectable but like every town, it had its own share of prodigal sons and skeletons in closet. Jail was usually populated by local drunks and brawlers, placed there for one too many punch but they all got out in the morning once sobriety and hangover cleared their minds just a little bit. But... every now and then someone would end up there longer than just one night.

"Mornin' Bill." Sheriff said as he closed door of the jail, holding a plate in his hands. The man in question was already up, keeping hands on the metal bars "How are we doin' today?"
"I didn't do it..."
"Is that so?" Reginald asked, feigning surprise " 'Cause five witnesses say otherwise. Saw you tryin' to steal farmer Brown's cattle."
"Come on sheriff." Man pleaded "I won't do it again, I swear."
"Bill." Reginald angrily interrupted before prisoner could continue. He walked over to cell and slipped plate under bars, through a small opening just enough for plate to pass through. "If I let you go now and I see you so much as cheat on cards, Imma carve 'He did it again' on your tombstone. Good judge said thirty days and you'll stay here for thirty days, so shut up and eat your breakfast!"

Prisoner had nothing else to add. Quietly but begrudgingly he took plate and began eating. It wasn't first time and won't be last, Reginald thought as he left the jail. Town was now fully awake and street was busy. Despite his best efforts to shake it, there was unusual feeling deep inside of him, a small worm that kept poking his paranoia. Today will be one of those 'odd' days.​
 

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6 Hours Earlier at Fort Sam Houston San Antonio, Texas.
Colonel Doug Barrett was in his office dressed in camo fatigues with a black t-shirt shredding a few files when there was a knock at the door. He barely looked up as he continued shredding and said, “Enter.” Walking through the door was Captain Rachel Alvarez who snapped to attention and said, “Sir, the Tower Chief called he said the Colonel’s plane is ready for takeoff at the Colonel’s discretion.” Barrett looked up at Alvarez and said, “Thank you Captain contact the Tower Chief and tell him…” He looked at his watch and said, “I’ll be ready for departure at 2100 hours.” Alvarez nodded and said, “Yes sir” and she just stood there for a moment. Barrett didn’t look up as he continued shredding the papers and asked, “What’s on your mind Captain?” Alvarez shifted her stance briefly but continued standing at attention and asked, “Permission to speak freely sir?” Barrett stopped what he was doing and cut off the shredder. He sat on the corner of his desk and replied, “Granted. What’s on your mind Captain?” Alvarez said, “Sir, for the last three months since you accepted whatever this assignment is you haven’t been yourself.” Barrett asked, “How so?” Alvarez replied, “You’ve been withdrawing from us. You’re being excessively secretive despite and now you’re shredding files. You’re acting like a man desperate to hide something sir.” Barrett replied, “What I am doing now is a classified assignment Captain. That’s all you need to know.” Alvarez asked, “How so sir? There have been no confidential communiques, no curriers, no encoded messages on the Sat-Com?” Barrett let out a sigh and shook his head as he stood up and began to slowly pace. He said, “You’ve always been one of the brightest officers under my command Captain, and I’m sorry for all the cloak and dagger non-sense but in this case Captain it’s necessary. This one is off the books and it’s all in the name of National Security and Plausible Deniability.” Barrett looked at her and said, “What I’m involved in even I’m not sure I believe it, but if it works I assure you its gonna change our world forever I can promise you that Captain. Do you trust me?” Alvarez nodded and replied, “With my life sir.” Barrett said, “All right then Captain then trust me when I tell you the less you know the better.” Alvarez said, “Thank you sir for your apology and I am sure that whatever the Colonel is involved with it’s in the best interest of our Country.” Barrett smiled a bit and replied, “Thank you Captain.” Barrett’s expression changed to a much more serious expression and said, “There is one thing you should know Captain.” Alvarez asked, “What’s that sir?” Barrett walked over to a walk and tapped on a picture of himself, the Captain and six others in black ops clothing. He said, “Behind this picture is my safe the combination is 1-26-25 my first day of sobriety. In there is my will if you get a briefing saying that I have been killed I want you to deliver it to my ex-wife in San Francisco personally.” Alvarez looked visibly shaken as Barrett approached her and she said, “I hope it doesn’t come to that sir.” Barrett chuckled and said, “I hope so too, but if it does I want you to know….” He smiled a bit and said, “Rachel, you’re one of the finest officers I’ve ever served with and you’ve got the potential to be one of the best the Air Force has ever seen. Just remember to have a happy life along the way.” Barrett looked around and said, “All of this is great for the moment, but one day it’s all gonna be gone and all you got are memories.” Alvarez replied, “Thank you…” she smiled and said, “Doug. It’s been an honor for me sir.” She saluted Barrett with a single tear running down her cheek. Barrett snapped to attention and returned her salute. He replied, “Likewise Captain.” They dropped their salutes and Barrett said, “Inform the tower twenty minutes.” Alvarez gave a single nod and said, “Yes sir.”


After Alvarez left Barrett finished shredding his last two files, and then stared at his phone for a moment. He checked his watch and then sat his desk. Barrett dialed a number and after one ring a female voice said, “Hello?” Doug took a deep breath and said, “Hi Brenda it’s Doug. Hope I’m not bothering you and Josh. Do you got a few minutes? I just need to talk to you.” Brenda replied, “Sure yeah it’s okay Doug. Josh isn’t here he’s in Philly for a medical conference for the next week.” Doug nodded and replied, “All right umm I really don’t know where to start.” Brenda said, “How about what’s on your mind. That usually works best for you.” Doug asked, “What we had, our marriage and everything it wasn’t all bad was it? We had some good times, didn’t we? It was real, right?” There was a pause and Doug could hear Brenda smile as she said, “Yeah Doug it was real and we had our issues, but I’ll admit I’m not innocent of all the charges. We have two wonderful kids together and we actually get along better now than we did the last two years of our marriage.” Doug smiled as well and said, “Thanks Brenda I just needed to hear something real about my life outside of my work before I take off for something classified. One of those the less said the better situations." Brenda replied, “Got it. I just know whatever it is you’ll be all right. I have no doubt about it.” Doug let an exhale and said, “I hope so. Just so you know I told my sub-ordinate Captain Rachel Alvarez where my will is, and spoiler alert…” Doug shook his head and said, “I didn’t change it everything goes to you Brenda.” Brenda replied, “Doug even when you went into North Korea on the op three years ago, you didn’t sound like this.” Doug took a long pause and said, “Like I said the less said the better Brenda. Promise me that if things don’t go well and I don’t make it back promise me one thing.” Brenda replied, “Sure name it.” Doug said with a slight tremble in his voice, “Tell Caroline and Thomas I love them and I hope that you all forgive me for the harm I caused the last couple of years of our life together. I am so sorry it was all my fault, and I love you all.” Brenda replied, “Douglas Peter Barrett, we forgave you a long time ago. Caroline asked me not to say anything yet, but I think you should know something. She was going to tell you at her Graduation in June so you better look surprised when she tells you. Doug, she is going to the Academy because she wants a career in the Air Force like you. Not to mention two years ago, when Tom hit the game winner in the State Junior High School finals, who was the first person he sought out in the crowd and charged towards to hug? Not me or Josh, but the guy who taught him how to hit a jumper. Otherwise known as his dad, and if you believe his coach that jumper is his ticket to a scholarship anywhere in the Country.” Doug bowed his head and Brenda said, “Josh is their step-father and they love him, but you Doug are their dad and nothing will ever change that.” Barrett looked his watch and said, “ I have to go now.” Brenda’s voice choked as she said, “Be careful Doug, come back safe and God be with you. I love you Doug.” Doug replied, “I love you too Brenda. God Bless you, Josh and the kids.” With that Doug hung up his phone and just stared off into space for a moment.

Doug shook his head twice and a steely resolve crossed his face. He stood up and cut off the equipment and lights in his office. Doug walked out to the runway to a waiting C-147 two men saluted him as he entered the plane returning their salute. Doug approached the cockpit and said, “Colonel Doug Barrett authorization Alpha 44 Gamma 33Beta 88.” The pilot looked over his manifest and said, “Copy authorization welcome aboard Colonel. Strap in and we’ll be underway in less than five minutes.” Doug nodded and walked to the back of the plane and strapped in. Barrett closed his eyes as the plane taxied and finally took off. He started to doze off and then four hours later there was an alarm. The pilot said over the intercom, “Colonel we’re approaching your drop zone. ETA five minutes out sir.” Barrett pushed a button and said, “Copy that pilot.” Barrett stood up and grabbed a parachute as the ramp slowly yawned open. The red light turned green as the pilot said, “Clear for jump Colonel. Good luck and God Speed.” Barrett took three steps forward and hurled himself out of the plane.

The Machine
After landing Barrett burned his parachute and jogged five miles to an unmarked building in the middle of nowhere. Barrett stepped up to a wall where stood still and a door opened seemingly out of nothing. Barrett entered where he was led down a long hallway with various computers. Barrett made no expression as he allowed some headgear to be strapped to his head. The only thoughts he had were of Brenda and his children. Then in the blink of an eye, like magic, the screen glowed and he was looking at the old west. Doug wasn’t sure if it was real or not but it was real enough for him. Just then there was a searing pain like he had never known and then a bright flash.

Arrival
After what seemed like hours later Doug woke up. He looked around at all the sights and sounds and smells of a town in the old west. Doug blinked twice and shook his head slowly as he stood up. Doug looked around and his logical rational mind was starting to spin and Doug didn’t like what it was coming up with. He knelt and picked up a handful of dirt. He looked at it in his black glove and dropped it. Doug noticed there were still parts of the dirt on his glove. Doug studied it for a moment and then said looking around, “Holy Mother of God. How? What? Oh my God.”
 
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Vellum

Guest
Blackthrone Twins
Theoretically, horse races were a fantastic idea.
Theoretically, horses were beasts of burden meant to do their rider's will without a second thought. That's why people rode horses, not donkeys or mules. If you wanted brains and endurance, you rode a donkey. If you wanted speed and obedience, you chose a horse.
Theoretically, one doesn't name their horses after cannibalistic winter spirits and hell hounds.


Lupa made an irritable noise, dusting her shoulders off after being thrown from Wendigo's back for the fourth time that afternoon. Her own back was getting sore. Lupus was laughing, sitting astride Varghest still--but he was off center from the last attempt his painted stallion had made at tossing him. "I think you may be only half the horseman you claim to be, sister!" he chimed, patting his horse's neck. "We can take a break if you need to. Maybe I can give you some tips on how to tame a wild stallion." he added.

It was dangerous, he knew, to bring up skills around his sister who always thought she had something to prove because of what she was. Then again, it wasn't like she left him alone with his own perceived faults.

Lupa sneered back, stalking up to Wendigo and swinging into the saddle easily. "You would know a thing or two about taming stallions, wouldn't you, brother?" She didn't bother giving him time to turn pink with embarrassment, turning her horse back toward the makeshift starting line in the field they'd procured use of by the horse-keeper of the inn. The line itself was a pretty sad thing in comparison to the starting gates they were used to back in the north, gleaming white boxes with snorting racers lined up. Their version was a scrap of bright red fabric that Lupa had liberated from one of the dresses she'd torn to pieces to fund one of her 'projects'.

The room at the inn they shared was strung from one end to the other in pieces of dress and her newest attempt at invention. ("I know you despise dresses, but perhaps you'll find use for it, out there in the wilderness" their brother had said in the letter sent with the pretty thing that was a reminder of all the luxury they had willingly fled).

Lupus sighed and followed her, interest having been lost some time ago, but knowing that she wouldn't leave this idea of hers alone until she got irrefutable evidence that she couldn't hold races like they had up north. He'd pointed out that up north, they had professional tracks and entire stadiums for the sport, but she'd refused to listen. He also tried to point out that their horses weren't racers--they were barely tame enough to be cow-horses, much less racers.
Apparently, though, his sister had become deaf in the space of one sentence in the next, because she seemed to have not heard anything he'd said.


"On your mark." he sighed, settling his weight lower down into Varghest's saddle and preparing himself for another throwing.
"Now!" Lupa barked, kicking Wendigo into action. The stallion's hooves kicked up dirt, and Varghest jumped hard to keep up with his competition.


 
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Explodinator

Guest
Garrick "Rusty" Botterill

Laboratory, Outside Sheriff's Station
"Piece of junk..." Rusty had gotten his fill of bullshit a while ago, but it seemed that the universe was having another one of its "annoy Garrick" days. "Damn ATV... that's one more payment I don't need." Rusty grumbled to himself as he walked the rest of the way to the lab. He was riding a rented ATV, but it broke down halfway out. So, sweat drenched and clutching his hat to his head, he finally reached the lab... where he was not treated any better. When he was finally strapped in, all he could think was: Let's get this over with... The machine began to glow. Okay, come on, let's- His thoughts were cut off by the machine flashing. Then came the pain. the whole situation had Rusty more than a little surprised, to say the least. So much so, he passed out almost immediately.

Rusty woke to the feeling of warm dirt on his face. And the rest of his front. He quickly rolled over and sat up, frantically brushing himself off as he did so. He froze. Panicking, he looked around, finally resting his eyes on a black lump on the dirt.

"Thank God," Talking to nobody in particular, he brushed off his father's hat and put it back in its rightful place atop his head. He placed a hand on his hip and, sure enough, the empty revolver was still there. Nodding in approval, he turned his attention to the distinct change in atmosphere. Obviously, he wasn't in the lab, but it wasn't anywhere to be found, either. Turning around to try and explore, he was promptly met by a wall to the face. "MM!" Clutching his nose, he recoiled from the offending structure. That... when did that get there?" Dumbfounded, he walked around the long string of connected wooden walls until he finally found a break in them. Ensuring his revolver wasn't immediately visible, he turned the corner...

Only to see horseback riders, people dressed in western movie-like clothing, and a string of old west buildings.

"...Where the fuck am I?"
 
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Don

Guest
Chunta Pallotin
Location:
Outer Plains around the Town

IMG_0075.JPG
Chunta stood crouched in the dried tall grass of the outer plains, watching through the blades of grass looking towards a herd of Bighorned Sheet. He had been watching them for the past half an hour, the waiting in his crouched position for so long caused an aching in his legs but he had to stay still to not startle his prey. He'd been waiting for one of them to show a weakness, most had been standing still grazing while others had been moving about, none had shown themselves to be the weak one quite yet. Becoming impatient by this point Chunta thought to go after one of the males, there much larger horns than the females would allow for an easier chase, but still the males could always aim to fight back.

Chunta stood his ground for a further 10 minutes, by this point he didn't care if the male fought back he was prepared for such a fight. Carefully pulling the bow from his back, wrapping his left hand around the leather grip, drawing a single arrow from his pack placing the feathered end on the string using a small groove to set it in place easily. He drew back the bow and arrow taking soft deep breaths, holding the string to his face, finding the nearest male that would have been an easy shot, he aimed the arrow towards it's chest, being the best chance of killing it in one shot. The arrow sprong forward as he released it from his grip, the bow twanged, the sheep yelped loudly in pain as it's herd turned to stampede out of the area, while the injured male charged towards Chunta.

Tossing his bow aside Chunta grabbed his tomahawk as he took a few steps back, waiting on the sheep to near him, which it did in seconds. Dodging to the side Chunta swiped at it, but missed only slicing off a few hairs. The sheep turned again charging towards him, Chunta not dodging this time took the full force of its attack grabbing a hold of one of its horns with his left hand his right holding the tomahawk. Swinging downwards aiming right for the back of its neck, smaking down with a crack of bone the beast crashed to the ground dead or dying. Rolling the sheep onto its side, taking the tomahawk back to its neck he make sure he finished the job.

Chunta took a deep breath as he pulled out his hunting knife and slid it into the sheep starting to carve it open, doing the messy job of skinning and butchering the creature.
 
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MST3K 4ever

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[Fieldbox=Dan]


Dan and Tala rode up to the Silver Spur Saloon in Deadwood having just come back from Sheriff Rollands of Siler City. Rollands was having difficulty bringing back Edwin Baxter a bank robber and murderer. Sheriff Granger had been asked by Rollands if he could ask Dan and Tala for help. They agreed not only because they felt that the world was a better place without Baxter on the loose, but a two-hundred-dollar bounty was very hard to say no as well. Dan was tired, could use a shower, and about a month of lying in bed. However, at this moment there was a more pressing matter to be tended to more than his own needs.

Once Tala was off her mount Dan dismounted from Black Fire and got in front of Tala. He kept his voice low and expressing very neutral. Dan prided himself on not showing anger towards his mentor in public. He did this because Dan felt Tala was a human being entitled to make mistakes from time to time, but also if he lost it in front of her in public there were those who would take the opportunity to make racist statements towards Tala. At this moment, it was what Tala did that frustrated Dan and it was never anything about her Heritage which Dan held in highest reverence.

Dan said, “I told you, in no uncertain terms, to get the Hell out of there and get as far away as you could. Not only did you not do that you took a risk, and then executed it like a drunken bison on a week-long bender. You also nearly violated every tenant that we hold with honor in our calling. By all accounts I should leave you since you behind first chance I get.” Dan looked down and shook his head as he said, “I knew someone like you once though.” Dan looked back up to Tala and said, “I see that person every time I walk by a mirror.”

Letting out a long exhale Dan said, “We make rules and we do everything in our power to follow them but sometimes, and only if we can find a good justification for it, we’re allowed to break them. If it wasn’t for you acting the way you did Tala I would be dead right now. For that, and many other things, I am grateful to you.” He put his hand on her shoulder and said letting out a very slight smile, “Partner.” Dan reached into his saddlebag and pulled out the cash from their job. It was at this point Dan usually gave her a percentage of the job. It was usually divided 70-30 or 60-40 but there were those times it was 50-50. In this case Dan knew what needed to be done as he gave Tala the whole wad of cash. Dan said with a slight twinge of pride, “You earned every dime of it.”

As they prepared to enter the Saloon Dan realized this partnership had more days behind it than in front of it. Tala was quickly approaching a point where she would be ready to take out her own bounties, and Dan knew that sooner or later age would catch up to him. There was no doubt in his mind though Tala had what it took to not survive, but thrive in this profession. Dan had a sense of his reputation in this profession. He knew he was one of the best Bounty Hunters west of the Mississippi, but Tala she had everything it took to be THE best one. Dan didn’t tell her any of this, because she needed to keep her edge and focus and not believe her own hype. Dan motioned for Tala to follow him as his stern expression returned and he said, “Come on, we’re wasting good whisky time, and since you got all the cash you’re buying for a change.”

Interactions/Mentioned:
@Von Claussen
YuriLucien YuriLucien


Location:
In front of the saloon
[/Fieldbox]
 
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Timber.

Empress of Madness
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01b40ae8fb6f1d5c4249529f33e72573.jpg

Location :: Saloon Behind the Bar

Sally was no stranger to confrontation. Lord knew she faced enough of it on a day to day basis. Drunken Cowboys fighting over Drunken words. Drunken Cowboys confessing their love to a girl at the saloon, only to get pissed off real quick when she turned him down. She had seen everything from fist fights, to gun fights, and knife fights. Supposedly it came with the territory of being a saloon girl. In fact, her first day on the job she had been taught how to handle the rifle hidden under the counter in case anything happened to go wrong. One would never know when some sort of trouble would be going down.

However, today had been peaceful so far. She had cleared out the drunkards who'd passed out in their chairs the night previous. She had cleaned up behind the bar counter, and was now serving a drink to one of the locals in town. "It's a bit early for a whiskey don't you think Jim?" She asked, leaving over on the bar. The man waved her away clearly already drunk.

Sally shrugged and went back to cleaning the glasses with an old rag. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a tight braid behind her head, revealing a dark red birthmark covering the right side of her neck. It wasn't the prettiest of sights, but she had grown used to it in her 25 years. She wore a tight black dress with a corset bodice that laced in the front, and a thick skirt that accentuated her thick hips. Underneath the full length dress she wore knee high black boots, with a touch of heel. Her normal day to day outfit. Just another day at the saloon, paying off her owed debts, and wishing she could be elsewhere.

Sally wanted to be a singer, but there wasn't much money in that business. And no place to sing for the most part. A couple small stages in front of empty saloon rooms was about all she could manage. And her stage fright made even that impossible. Her dark green eyes stares out the window longingly. If she couldn't make any money singing, she wished she could find a man to support her so she at least didn't have to work in this saloon the rest of her life. Her mother would be so dissapointed if she were still alive. Her mother hated saloons, and had looked down on the women who worked in them. And now here she was, dear little Sally Wormwood working behind the bar in an old saloon, working to pay off a Debt she wish she never owed.
 

YuriLucien

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Beginner, Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Adaptable
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Male, Female, Futanari, , Primarily Prefer Male, Primarily Prefer Female, No Preferences
Genres
Fantasy, Scifi, Modern, Magical, Mecha, Furry, Anthro, Horror, Historical, everything really.
[fieldbox="Tala, violet, dotted"]




Dressed in men's wear with her hair tucked into her hat, she had followed Dan. Her father was cruel and stupid, unlike many good Indian warriors. Dan was tough but a true mentor. She was the wide-eyed girl who was intrigued by cowboys and their way of life. Her Indian clothes, sewn by her Grandmother, were always tucked away in her sack. They smelled different, like wheat. Nostalgia was over once arriving in town and gaining a lecture and too much cash.Her heart throbbed from the sight of it.

"No, Copperhead, I can not accept," she said following him, but the aura of the Saloon distracted her. There was music and wild chatter and gambling. She followed him to the bar. In a whisper, not to grab attention, she said, "Please, Sir, I can not accept."

He had instructed her to buy. It was hard to follow as she felt the money was undeserved. Music boomed from the pianist and she waved over the Bartender, "Whiskey, please."

Turning back to her mentor she pushed the money into his hand, "I cannot take all this. You have been great to me. I still have much to learn." Her English was barely broken. He had done too much for her and she couldn't take that away. But how to thank him?

Her eyes found the Saloon Girl and she lowered her hat. She knew what it meant to be a working girl. The new-comers and cowboys were exciting. She peeked again. The woman was a creature of true beauty as she moved around. Tala hid her jealousy by ordering a second round.

[/fieldbox]

MST3K 4ever MST3K 4ever
@Von Claussen
Timber. Timber.
 

Timber.

Empress of Madness
Invitation Status
,
Posting Speed
1-3 posts per day, One post per day, 1-3 posts per week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Genres
Fanatasy, Romance, Modern, Magical, Dark,
01b40ae8fb6f1d5c4249529f33e72573.jpg

Sally placed the second round of whiskey in front of Tala. She was unfamiliar with the girl, and she hid a smirk. The woman, beautiful by any standards, was dressed in men's clothing, which Sally could only guess meant she was doing something that wasn't necessarily lady like. Not that Sally judged that. Here she was, serving liquor to rowdy men, young and old alike. Which was not necessarily a lady like job either.

She leaned over the bar top, her resting her weight on right right leg, and smiled at Tala. "Haven't seen you around here. What's your name?" She inquired.

A few loose strands of hair fell from her braid, framing the sides of her well angled face. Without looking, her hand found another whiskey bottle, and a shot glass. She quickly poured a shot for herself and downed it without a grimace. Sally found that the burning of the liquor made her feel alive in a way she never truly felt without it. Again, this is something her dearest mother would frown upon, and she was most likely rolling over in her grave at this very moment. Sally smiled at the thought.

Sally cast a look at the man the woman in front of her was traveling with, intrigued to figure out what type of relationship they had. Love interest? Daring rescue? Possibly something a bit more sinister? She loved a good dramatic story. Sally found that she could live vicariously through the stories told in this very saloon. And the women who traveiled and spoke intriuged her the most. Valiant women of on some crazy adventure. Those were the types of stories that gave her hope that she wouldn't be stuck her for the rest of her life.

Sally knew that her debt had to be paid, that it was generous enough that she was able to pay it off through work and not some other, less savory method. This however did not make complacency any easier.
 
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Don

Guest
Chunta Pallotin
Location:
Outer Plains around the Town

Once the messy job of skinning and butchering the Bighorned sheep was complete, Chunta started moving away quickly to allow the vultures and scavengers to devour what was left of the sheep. It only took a few minutes before the area was covered in black and white feathers, looking from his new position as he began to work on a small fire with the purpose of cooking the meat. The fire started easily thanks to the dry air, as a small plume of smoke started to rise from his location, Chunta began to cook the meat using sticks to hold the chunks of meat above the flame. He was still rationing the meat, making sure he still had enough for the week ahead because that would give him enough time to kill his next prey and even enough time to sell the pelt in the nearby town of Dead Wood.

Once the meat had cooked to a point of being edible looking, Chunta pulled the sticks with meat on them from the earth, kicking dirt onto the fire to stop the burning. Setting his pack onto his back Chunta began to make his way to Dead Wood hoping to get some decent pay for the pelt, and hoping to not be recognised, as some folks from the town might not be too friendly after one of his previous encounters when he ended up shot in the gut, and barely survived, but that was maybe a month or two ago, it can be hard to keep track of the time out on the plains.

Spying the town in the near distance now, while looking at it something seemed off about the place, he couldn't tell how, but there was an inclining that something was a bit off. With a slight sigh he continued his travels towards the town, the sun beating down on him, each step getting harder and harder, it must have been around midday at this point, if not, today was going to be a scorcher.
 
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~Dark Disney~

Shinigami: Death God
Invitation Status
, ,
Posting Speed
1-3 posts per day, One post per day, 1-3 posts per week, One post per week, Slow As Molasses
Online Availability
Varies no exact time to be exact
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Prestige, Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
Female, Futanari, Primarily Prefer Female, No Preferences
Genres
Fantasy,Historical, Romance, Modern, Modern-Fantasy, Libertine, Adventure , Disney and Sci-Fi
Kate Barlow
Location: Outskirts of town mostly desert
The wind blew the dust along the path as a horse walked it's way along the dusty road with its female rider on its back. The female wore men like clothing but it was tighter and fit her showing off her curves. She had a ten gallon hat on and it was black like most of her clothing. She rode towards town her eye's trained on the road around her. She had to grab her stupid partner how was through the town and in a gully not to far from the town. She could ride around,but she needed some supplies and wouldn't be that long in town. Plus she keep her face hidden and just buy what she needed. She did not need to attract attention of any one in the town before she needed to.

She whistled to her dog to keep up as it had gone off to go sniff at something."C'om on boy we got to keep going" She said as Trotted her horse along, Her hand used a wet cloth to wipe away the sweat beading in her neck. She stopped when she saw something a man in odd clothing. She ride over and slid off her horse sage. She pulled her gun."What you doing so far from town? You know their be Notorius outlaws round these parts." She said and walked over to the oddly dressed man he could be her cover in town." Down shadow." She told her dog. Her hand was on the pistol in her belt as she wanted to see what he would do. She might be able to just use charm and flirting to get him to take her through town .

Doug MST3K 4ever MST3K 4ever


William
Location: Saloon
William ride into town just as the sun peaked and got hot. He tied his horse to the area for horses to rest and drink water. He walked into the Saloon and sat at a able he waved Sally over to grab him water and something to eat. He had seen Dan and Tala, he nodded to them and went about eating some food before he went out to make some money for the day. He wandered, but always seemed to return to this little town.

Mentioned:Tala Dan and Sally

(sorry short for him not sure what I want to do with him yet lol)​
 
V

Von Claussen

Guest
Location: Sheriff's office
Interaction: @Explodinator

For the most part, Reginald didn't have much of a job. Despite it's suggestive name Deadwood was rather calm city, minus the few accidents, brawls and bullets here and there. Most of people he saw everyday were regulars, local townsfolk, few merchants and natives that preferred to stay away from the town unless they were required to. Reginald rarely had problems with natives, as long as they obeyed simple law that maintained peace, they could walk in city and he wouldn't even bat an eye. In fact, he would often be there to welcome them, seeing as they would be best source of furs and leather. They could move around the forest without stepping on a twig and you'd be dead before you could reach for your pistol. Perhaps that's what gave them edge in forest, moving among trees like ghosts, sending arrow when they are sure it will reach its mark. With the rise of 'civilization' and its rapid expansion, it was clear for him that 'coexisting' will be something that both sides have to work for... but far from the fact that he'd stand by their side. Oh no... he remembers all the raids that natives did on town, ranches and even few times camps during his service. Not all opted to act like savages but those that did... well they ended up on wrong side of Reginald's gun. In Deadwood things were a bit less radical for him but he still kept his caution.

Of the new faces most often were trading and supply caravans, here to bring spirits, tobacco, fresh and canned food and most important of all - bullets. Post was delivered through different carriages, one pulled by horses trained to obey certain words that only its rider knew. It was a good strategy... but then so was shooting the horse too. It all summed up to a point where Reginald knew just about anyone in town by name and face. Those that he couldn't recognize were bound to be newcomers... sometimes here to find new life, sometimes just passing through.

As his 'morning' patrol was reaching it's inevitable end, Reginald made his way toward his office, eager to spend time in the shade and wait for the Sun to ease up on its infernal torment. Most often, he would sit outside of his office, rifle placed on his lap and carefully observe townsfolk as they walked around, going from point A to point B. Just as he was about to let his long sigh and remove hat, he saw an unusual sight... a face he didn't recognize.

Sheriff approached man, observing his clothing and the behavior. He seemed lost, out of the place as if he's in town for the first time. It gave Reginald every reason to be suspicious... for all he knows it could be bandit, leftover Confederate spy or just average criminal. Then again, he looked too well dressed to be average brigand, maybe one of the rich land-owners from the numerous cotton plantations. Many theories, many questions and he needed answer to them all.

"Hey, you!" Reginald raised his voice as he was about five meters away from man. Slowly, he lowered rifle pointing it down to appear less threatening but still close at hand if he needs it to do its job. He stood about two meters away, looking him up and down, focusing on face. It was not one he saw on wanted posters. With calmer voice he inquired "Haven't seen you around... Where are you from?"
 
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Explodinator

Guest
Hanson Wickersham
The Saloon
Descending down from his second-floor office, Hanson took in the usual sights of his saloon. Rowdy, drunk cowboys, poker and cigars, Sally waiting on a whisky-guzzling Indian woman... Wait a second.

For a second, Hanson stood there, examining the woman and her escort.
They're new... I think I'll give 'em the usual... He turned to look at Sally, who was in the process of taking a shot of her own. Normally he wouldn't have batted an eye, but he thought he'd give his new patrons a more lighthearted welcome.

He approached Sally from behind, stopping a little to the side of her. He smiled, and said:
"That's coming out of your debt payment, you know."

YuriLucien YuriLucien , MST3K 4ever MST3K 4ever , Timber. Timber.


_____________________________________

Rusty
Sheriff's Station

"Hey you!"

"Gah!"
Caught off guard by the sudden statement, he cried out, turning towards the source of the voice, his back slamming into the wall as he did so.

What he saw wasn't what he wanted to see. At least, not the rifle pointed in his general direction. Needless to say, he was more than a little frightened. After a second or two, the rifle was lowered. The man said, much calmer this time,
"Haven't seen you around... Where are you from?"

Regaining his composure, Rusty replied: "My family's farm in Iowa..." Rusty examined the man, noticing the rifle was a model at least a century old, finally resting his eyes on the badge upon his chest, causing a great weight to be lifted off his own. He looked back up to the man's face. "I'm a bit lost, sheriff. Mind telling me where I am?"
 

Timber.

Empress of Madness
Invitation Status
,
Posting Speed
1-3 posts per day, One post per day, 1-3 posts per week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female
Genres
Fanatasy, Romance, Modern, Magical, Dark,
01b40ae8fb6f1d5c4249529f33e72573.jpg
Sally felt Hanson approaching behind her. Just her luck he would show up just as the whiskey left the glass. " When doesn't it." She replied coolly. She gave him a quick smile, resting her hand on his should for a moment. "We have more customers, I wouldn't want to keep them waiting."

With that she walked down to the other side of the, ducked under it, and headed toward a table where William was sitting. She placed a glass of water on the table and smiled. "What can I do for you today, darlin?" She asked sweetly. "Steak and potatoes are good today."

She cast a glance back over at the bar, still watching the two travelers, and now her boss. He was a good man truly, but debts must be paid. And she was not the type to skip out on a Debt she owed. She atleast had her priorities in order.
 
Last edited:

MST3K 4ever

It is back and phenomenal!
Genres
I'll try almost anything within reason.
[Fieldbox=Doug]



Doug was still feeling somewhat disoriented from what had happened. Physically he was a little nauseous, but he attributed that more to nerves than anything else. Psychologically he was pulling on all his Military training and discipline to keep from going into a panic. When he first “volunteered” for this project he accepted there might be certain inherent risks involved. Electrocution and or brain damage among them, but nowhere on that list was the possibility that they would be transported back in time. Doug stood up and looked around and said, “Anyone have any ideas on how to get back I’m all in favor of any and all of them.” Doug had seen on the Classic Movie Channel the movie trilogy “Back to the Future,” and now his mind began to race with the possibilities of any interaction they had with anything or anyone could either endanger their existence or alter world events. It was one of the inherent evils that made Doug leery about all of this. He knew it wouldn’t take much to reconfigure the machine so one could actually step into the time they were observing.

Just then Doug noticed a young woman pulling a gun on him. Doug raised his hands ever so slowly and said, “Ma’am I mean no harm. I’m from out of town.” He nodded slowly and said, “Way out of town. I come from a small town in Kansas.” Doug figured there was no getting around interacting with others, so he decided to try and play it cool realizing that giving out any real information could alter the future. Doug looked at the dog and then back at her. He said, “My name is John Rambo I’m from Smallville, Kansas. I’ve been traveling for a long time. I’m just looking to stay out of trouble until I can find my way home.
Interaction/Mention:
@~Dark Disney

Location:
Outside of town

[/Fieldbox]



[Fieldbox=Dan]


Dan looked at Tala and said with a look of disapproval, “You’ll do anything to get out of paying for the whisky.” He smiled and put his arm gently around her shoulder and said, “I understand. I’ll hold onto it for now.” It was this kind of humble spirit and drive for doing what was right that made Dan not only care about his young protégée, but he respected her. She was only 19 years old but in a lot of way she possessed a wisdom that others twice her age couldn’t even begin to understand. Dan decided that it was time to leave the business end of things behind. They hadn’t had any serious downtime in a couple of weeks, and after being shot at and riding around constantly Dan felt it was time for them to enjoy some peace and quiet. He said to Tala, “For the next three days you and I are taking a break. I think we’ve earned it.” Dan then looked at her and said, “Unless it’s for an insane amount of money then we might have to consider it.

Dan took his shot glass from the saloon girl and said, “Thank you ma’am.” Dan heard, what he assumed, was the owner of the saloon mention something about her debt to him. Dan put $20.00 on the bar and said, “That should cover us for at least 5 shots each. Keep the change.” He gave a nod and a smile as he then threw back his shot. Dan gave an approving nod and said, “This could work. Set me up with another.” He looked over to the owner and said, “You must be well connected or well off to get whisky of this quality in this area. Last time we had stuff this good was in New Orleans about two months ago. Otherwise, it’s a lot of stuff that would kill a horse.”

Though he and Tala had worked with Sheriff Reg more than about any other lawman in the region the two of them didn’t have any place to call home. Sure they had open invites at Miss Annie’s Boarding House anytime they were in town, because they helped her when the Clark gang threatened to shoot the place up for asking them to leave, but no place to call home. No place that when they were done with a job that they could go back to. Dan felt that it was time for that to change. He said to Tala, “So tell me something. What do you think about maybe buying a piece of land here and we call this place home?”

Interactions/Mentioned
@Explodinator
Timber. Timber.
@Von Claussen
YuriLucien YuriLucien


Location:
The Silver Spur Saloon

[/Fieldbox]


 

YuriLucien

死神
Original poster
Invitation Status
, , ,
Posting Speed
Speed of Light, Multiple posts per day, 1-3 posts per day, One post per day, 1-3 posts per week, One post per week
Writing Levels
Beginner, Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
Male, Female, Futanari, , Primarily Prefer Male, Primarily Prefer Female, No Preferences
Genres
Fantasy, Scifi, Modern, Magical, Mecha, Furry, Anthro, Horror, Historical, everything really.
[fieldbox="Tala, violet, dotted"]




The saloon was lively and smelled of leather and booze. It was her kind of place. Nothing said adventure like the life of a cowboy, but she had business with her mentor. He had been too good to her; better than her family. When the saloon girl had inquired about them she had nodded, tucking her hat lower. That brazen, beautiful personality had never been her.

"I'm Tala, and this here is Copperhead." She smiled up at him, "He's my teacher."

When William made his way in and nodded, she glanced back. She was sorry to see him eat alone. The conversation moved quickly but she was glad he took the money. It was too much and she couldn't accept. She agreed with the break, unless a lot of cash was expected. However, it was the idea of settling that bothered her. The weight of his arm on her shoulders was something only he had give her. Her parents had been cold. She wanted to spend the rest of her life learning from Copperhead, but so much of the world was still a mystery.

"Copperhead, Sir, shouldn't we invite William over? He's eating alone." The distraction wasn't crude, but true. She smiled to the bartender and saluted, as she drank her shot. She pulled a set of cards from her chest pocket, "Or, invite him to gamble. What'd you say, Bartender?" She smiled.

[/fieldbox]

MST3K 4ever MST3K 4ever
Timber. Timber.
~Dark Disney~ ~Dark Disney~
 
V

Vellum

Guest
((Figured that if I was going to get anything done I should probably put my characters in the general area of everyone else. Sorry for the short posts.))
"C'mon, Lup!" Lupa whined, trailing after her exhausted twin.

"Don't whine at me! I'm tired, and I don't find getting thrown off a horse repeatedly to be an amusing past time!" He barked in response, swinging down off Varghest as they approached the saloon. He glanced around, noticing the number of horses and wave of voices coming from within. It's not normally so busy, he thought. He lifted his head, peering down the road each way.

Something had shifted slightly, bringing with it a feeling he couldn't quite shake.

Lupa sighed heavily, dismounting from Wendigo and taking the half-wild stallion's halter in hand. She glanced at her brother, noticing his demeanor, like a dog scenting the wind. "Let's put the horses in the rest stop so we can get inside. You look like you're smelling a storm." she remarked, leading the way into the barn.

Lupus cleared his throat, still caught up on something being off. "You take Varg, I'm going to go ahead and get us a table and drinks." he told her, handing off the reigns. The woman huffed, snatching them from him, and stalking toward the barn. The two horses followed tiredly, exhausted from their attempt at racing.

Lupus Blackthrone
--
Mentioning Timber. Timber. // Sally
Lupus stepped into the saloon, still on high alert, and glanced around. The usual group was there, drunkards and gamblers alike. Along with familiar girls that worked the bar. "Afternoon, Sally!" he called, sliding into a seat at the bar and glancing at the other patrons.

Greetings out of the way, he ducked into one of the seats at the bar and set to a silent vigil, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Lupa Blackthrone
-- Mentioning YuriLucien YuriLucien // Avery Everette
Sulking into the barn, Lupa noticed a man about her age covered in hay. Clearly, he had to be a stable hand (something she was not, despite what her brother seemed to think). "Thank the Lord someone is here," she drawled. "Help me get these two unsaddled, will you? There's money in it, of course. I doubt your boss pays you much."

"Careful with the paint, he's a biter." she warned, handing the stable hand the reigns to Varghest. "Put him wherever you've got space, he's not easily spooked. Just a bit of a bastard." As if to back her up, Varg snorted and flicked his ears, watching Avery unwaveringly. Lupa, for her part, seemed to find the stable hand's attire a little bit strange, but decided it wasn't her place to mention it. She was, after all, a woman in men's clothing and had no place to inquire about strange style choices.​
 
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Explodinator

Guest
Hanson Wickersham
Silver Spur Saloon

"...it’s a lot of stuff that would kill a horse.”

"It's more of a hassle than you'd think to get a hold of what you have in that glass." Looking at the two of them up close, he realized he'd seen them before. They'd stop by on occasion when they were in town. He couldn't place names on them, but he knew they were good folk.

Hanson let them be for the moment, he wasn't one to listen to other people's conversations. Absentmindedly taking up the task of cleaning dirty mugs and shot glasses, he watched Sally go about her work. She was always a diligent worker, never one to slack off, even when he was working the bar himself. Come to think of it, her debt's nearly paid... It'll be lonely without her here. He'd gotten used to the girl being there to talk to him while they were cleaning up at night. It never even crossed his mind that she wouldn't be there for more than a few months at most.

"What'd you say, Bartender?" Hanson snapped back into reality at his mention. he looked over to the Indian woman, whom he now recognized as the bounty hunter's protegee, holding a deck of cards.

"Ah. If you're asking if you can gamble, it's fine. Just don't go shootin' everyone who beats you." He chuckled. "Need a dealer? I was pretty good in my time." He returned her smile in kind.

 
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