Tumbleweed, USA: The Wild West RPG IC Thread

[SuperFerret]

TUMBLEWEED, USA
The Wild West RPG​

Howdy, friends! Welcome to Tumbleweed, USA. The year is 186X in the American frontier, and the Civil War is coming to a close. Most of the town's income comes from the small coal mine on the outskirts of the town. The miners spend their leisure time at the Froggy Dog Saloon, and every Sunday the whole town turns up at the Church to attend Pastor Stephens's sermon. When outlaws, such as Dale "the Dog" Dumont, come to town, the local sheriff keeps order and runs such varmints out of town before they can start too much of a ruckus. All in all, it's a pretty good life, and everything is nice and peaceful around these parts.

Of course, nothing lasts forever.

This game will be a bit different from most of the RPG's on this forum, as it's a GM run game. Unlike the other games, which are basically big cooperative stories, many events and all NPCs will be controlled by the Game Master, just like a typical role-playing game. The game will take place over the course of eight days in Tumbleweed, and while the game will start out with the standard Wild West fare, certain events will set the tone over the course of the game.

Each of the eight days in Tumbleweed will be separated into three periods: Morning (Dawn to just before Noon), Afternoon (Noon to Dusk), Night (Dusk to just before Dawn). Not every character has to post in each period (although it'd be nice) and the length of the periods will vary. As GM, I'll post at the beginning of each period, describing events that are happening at that time. Some events will be major and should get the attention of all characters, others will be minor and may not garner every character's attention.

++++++++++++++++++++

Gamemaster
SuperFerret​

Roster​

Artemis G. Ellsworth, Sheriff
SenseiofCheese

Dr. James Amadeus Kippling III Esquire better known the Inkredible Dr. Kip!, Snake Oil Salesman
Byrd Man

Doctor John Rose, Doctor
Catman_prb

Jack Daniels, Carpenter/Confederate Soldier
Harlekin

Jean O'Hara, Burlesque Dancer
Kara Kent

Patrick Setter, Town Drunk
RGDurant

Harrison "Sly Harry" Kraige, Outlaw
Carnage27

Jethro 'Chance' Morgan, Former Gun-for-Hire
wiegeabo

Michael O'Rourke, Outlaw/Prisoner
Matt Murdock

Captain Ford H. Riley, Union Cavalry captain and Confederate-hunter
Andy C.

Mad Wolf, Exiled Comanche Warrior
NamesAreUseless

++++++++++++++++++++

Map of Tumbleweed's Main Street

 

[SuperFerret]

Sunday Morning – Day 1​

The church bells ring out over Tumbleweed’s main street, sounding clearly through the crisp air of early spring. The sun hangs on the horizon casting long shadows on the ground. Few are awake yet, but the town begins to rise for the day. Pastor Stephens is already at the church, tidying up and preparing for the day’s sermon. Oliver Aronson, the ranch owner was also an early riser, and is checking on the horses with his two young stable hands, Irvine and Theodore. On the other end of Main Street, Allen Rex and his wife, Gertrude, are opening the general store.

Suddenly, Gertrude gasps loudly, pointing down the road heading out of town, her other hand over her mouth. “My word!”

A man dressed in black sits slumped in the saddle of his horse, bouncing as the horse unsteadily ambles into town. His face cannot be seen as his black hat is pulled down over his eyes, however, Allen can plainly see that the man is not well.

“Gertie, run and fetch the Sheriff and Dr. Rose. This stranger is sick.”

 

[wiegeabo]

A buzzard flies far overhead, calling out to the valley far below. I kick dirt over the last dying embers of my fire and take a sip of my coffee. The piping hot brew brings new life in the crisp Sunday morning air.

At least, I think it's Sunday. It's easy to lose track when you're out on your own, riding through the country side. About a week ago I was in Mexico, helping out a rancher with some rustlers giving his horses a bad time. The rustlers were lucky. I didn't have to kill any of them. Wounded them. Got them thrown in jail. Probably got strung up after I left. But I didn't kill them. That doesn't happen in most of the jobs I take. Killing is pretty much a necessity. But I never do it without just cause. I never murder...

I take another sip of the brew. A faint peel of the bell rings up the hillside. Yep, Sunday. Another chill wind blows across me and I pull my coat a little tighter. My horse softly complains. "I know. I know." I finish my cup and pack it away.

Putting my boot in the stirrup, I lift myself onto his strong back. My body complains at the movement. How come you don't realize you're getting old until you're already there? I turn the horse onto the trail leading to town. A couple hours ride and I'll be there.

Tumbleweed...

 

[SenseiofCheese]

Artemis G. Ellsworth
Sheriff of Tumbleweed
​

"Artemis! Artemis!"

A voice, a woman's vioce, shakes Artemis from his sleep. Not particularly deep sleep, nor a peaceful one. But any sleep he gets nowadays, he takes. The shock of getting ripped from the land of the dreaming startles the sheriff, and the chair he's sitting in almost falls over.

"Artemis!" the voice now comes louder, punctuated by rapid knocking on the door.

"I'm comin' now, hold your horses."

Ellsworth whips his tired legs off his desk, a bottle of liquor he'd emptied earlier falling to the floor. For a moment he wonders if there's anything left inside, but he doesn't remember the last time he didn't finish an entire bottle.

His back makes an uncomfortable cracking noise as he gets up, sighing, and walks over to the front door. "Now what in the hell could be so damned important on a sunday mornin'?"

When he opens the door, light from outside invades the dark sheriff's office, bathing Artemis in an early-morning glow. When his tired eyes finally stop fighting and adjust, he comes face to face with Gertrude, Allen Rex's wife from across the street.

"Artemis, there's trouble. There's someone comin', he's just outside of town, I think he's hurt pretty bad!"

The woman's voice is filled to the brim with worry, almost as if an ounce more would send her crashing to the floor. But then again, Artemis thought as he reached over to a nearby chair and grabbed his hat, Gertrude's voice almost always sounded like that.

"S'okay, Gertie. Go get Doc Rose, then you and Allen stay inside, you hear?"

With a curt nod, Gertrude sprints as fast as he worn dress allows, and Artemis hesitates for a moment. Looking down on the gold star pinned to his chest, he puts his hand an inch from his mouth and breathes heavily. Deciding the stench of alcohol isnt' that noticeable no his breath, he makes sure his pistol is in it's holster before making his way out into the Tumbleweed morning.​

 

[Byrd Man]

Tuscon, Arizona

One Week Ago

"Step right up and be the first to witness the power of The Inkredible Dr. Kip's Life Tonik! It'll take the crack out of your back, put some pep in your step, you'll be living large and in charge! Discovered by me, Doctor James Amadeus Kippling III Esquire on my travels through the dark continent of Africa, this life potion was bestowed upon me by an African shaman, with the promise that I save lives with it. And I swear to you as I swore to Humbagumba that I will save lives!"

A small crowd starts to form below me as I stand on my wagon shouting in the middle of Tuscon's main street.

"Doesn't matter what vexes you, this bottle of life potion can cure you. Got a touch of the whooping cough? It'll whoop it right out of you! Case of the pox? Why, this potion is guaranteed to send the pox packing! Got lady trouble? Well, it even straightens your Longfellow, if you get my drift!"

The men chuckle while a few of the women blush. I pull a blue bottle out of my pocket. It has my dashing face on the label.

"And for the minimal outlay of one dollar, you can take home a bottle of liquid Lothario, distilled Don Juan, catalytically-carbonated Cassanova. Lock old Rover in the shed, because man has a new best friend in The Inkredible Dr. Kip's Life Tonik!"

People start to pull coins and paper out of their pockets in an effort to be the first for my "tonik".

Yep, there's a sucker born every minute. But in Tuscon, I just gave birth to two dozen of them.

BLAM!

A gun blast sends the crowd scattering. I pull on my spectacles to get a better look at the spoil sport.

"Why you ignorant, rube!"

The man levels his gun at me and for the first time I see the metal star pinned to his coat.

"Name's Wesley Moss, Sheriff Wesley Moss. 'precaite it if you called me as such."

I chuckle and straighten my bowler.

"What can I help you with, sheriff?"

"You can follow me. I don't want forked-tounge tricksters in my town."

"But, sending me to jail would mean that I would be staying in your uhh...quaint and unique little town even longer...."

"Don't worry." He says with a smile as he keeps his gun on me.

"The gallows is outside the town limits."

My face constricts as I feel a cold spot in my stomach.

"Okay, my good sheriff. I will go with you, but I would like to show you one more benfit of my tonik!"

He curtly nods. "What the hell, you'll be dead in a half hour anyway."

I smile, pull out a bottle of my tonik and undo the cork stopper.

"Behold! The power of the Life Tonik!" I say as I stick a handkerchief halfway into the bottle.

"Able to turn your frown upside down, it makes your blues say adue. And my favorite aspect of it...It's highly flammable!"

Digging into my pocket, I pull out a match and strike it on my coat, putting the firey match to the handkerchief and watching it racing down towards the liquid.

I throw the bottle at the sheriff's feet. He leaps back as fire and glass explode.

By the time he's got his wits about him, I'm in my wagon and whipping my horses to go faster as they race out of town.


NOW

Tumbleweed

It's Sunday morning, I think it's Sunday. The bells ringing kind of let me know that.

"Wassthat?" The woman next to me says as I sit up in bed.

"Chruch bells, lovely."

I step out of bed and walk over the empty bottles of Tonik laying around the bedroom floor. I've got my pants halfway on when I hear a ruckus outside on mainstreet.

"So, do you have my money?" The lady in bed asks.

I smile and pull out a crisp five dollar bill out of my pants and lay it on her night stand.

"Keep the change, my dear. You're worth every penny."

She smiles and rolls over to go back to bed.

I quickly put my clothing on and head downstairs, passing by the old drunks on the saloon floor and coming out on Tumbleweed's dirt road.

"Today is going to be a good day." I say to myself as I take off my spectacles and clean them off with my shirt.

 

[Mercy]

The Colour Scarlet
ONE

Jean had a show starting at Night. All the boys were coming to see it. But they had to pay to get into the private section.
Jean sat on the bench at the railway station. She thought how far away from home she is. All she could remember was that her mama told her that when Jean was a new born baby, she took Jean across the seas on a small wooden boat, away from her home country, Ireland. Apparently they barely made it across the Atlantic. Her father went mad and tried to kill Jean and her mama, but he died of hypothermia the next day. That's all Jean can remember of her mama's tales. But mama's gone now, Jeans on her own.

Jean looked at the tracks. She held her dark beige coat over her black dress. A tall, elderly man came slowly walking down the platform, it seemed he was heading towards Jean. Jean looked around, she then stiffened up and sat straight on the bench, making it look like she was waiting for the train. The elderly man placed himself next to Jean. He stared at her for some time. He finally opened his small mouth.
"You've met my daughter haven't you?" The man wags his finger at Jean. Jean shoots an confused look at the man. The man takes off his hat and strokes his beard. He then smiles at Jean.
"Yes, yes you have. I'm Dean Summit and my daughter, Scarlet Summit, knows you"

Jean finally realizes what the old man is babbling on about, she turns to him and smiles gently, putting her hands on her lap.
"And what did Scarlet say about me, exactly?" Jean's heart skips a beat, sweat drips from her face. The man shuffles closer, his smile fades away and he seems to get more serious.
"Look. Scarlet's coming soon, she's on the train that is on it's way to this station. I'll give you a chance to get away from here. But that's only for now. Plus, I won't tell her where you are....unless--"
"Unless what?" Jean growls, she gets up, her eyes glued to the man.
"You do a lil something for me. It doesn't involve your Burlesque skills, just your flirtatious skills. I need two barrels of Beer by midday, if not, i'll leave Scarlet to do what she does best"
​

 

[Carnage27]

As the hot sun begins to rise over the town of Tumbleweed, a man on a black horse slowly makes his way up Main Street.

His name is Harrison Kraige, but most people know him as Sly Harry. He's more of a legend than a despised outlaw, known for seducing rich women out of their money rather than holding up stage coaches and the like.

I ain't too bad in a gunfight though, he thought to himself.

He's here in Tumbleweed after the biggest score of his life. He managed to wrestle away half of Henry Ravenswood's fortune from right underneath him. That's right, half of the Big thunder Mountain fortune was sitting in the saddle bags next to Sly.

Harrison trots his horse Shadow into the town square, ties it up in front of the town's watering hole, and let's out a deep sigh.

"The Froggy Dog? What the hell kinda name is that?"

The hansom outlaw pushes the doors open and sits down at the bar, pulling out a small wad of cash out of his pocket.

"What'll it be, son?" the barkeep asks.

"A bottle of your finest tequila," Kraige says coolly,"I want to celebrate."

 

[Catman_prb]

"Doctor Rose! Doctor Rose are you in there?"

Dr John Rose was woken from his mid morning slumber by the sound of Gertie Rex banging on the door to his offices. He wasn't as young as he used to be, and that glass of whiskey must've taken more out of him than he thought. Still, he remembered telling young Miller to keep the surgery open and wake him up if there were any emergencys. Goes to show how the memory plays tricks on you...

"Doctor Rose!" Gertie shrieked again. John got up from his chair, muttering darkly under his breath. Gertrude Rex was a well-known busy-body and hypochondriac within Tumbleweed. His Mary had always thought her an untrustworthy creature. Still, he put on his people face and opened the great door. Relief flooded her worried face, and John frowned, worrying that he'd misjudged her slightly.

"Yes Gertie?" John asked, leaning against the door "What can I be doing for you today?"

"There's someone ridin' in from outta town. He looks hurt! Allan and the sheriff said I should come fetch you," Gertie said, her words pouring out like water from a turn-pipe.

"You did well to get me, m'dear. I think you best go home now, I'll go find the sheriff and this stranger," Doctor Rose said, nipping back inside the office to get his portable medical kit.

He hurried out into the dusty street, pulling on his dove grey waistcoat, wincing under the harsh sun. He followed the road out of town, until he came to Sheriff Ellsworth.

"Mornin' Artemis. What do we have today?"

 

[SuperFerret]

Artemis and Allen stand over the black garbed stranger, who had been pulled off his horse and lay on the ground, groaning weakly. Allen looks back as Doctor Rose joins them.

"He looks awful sick, Doc."

 

[Catman_prb]

Artemis and Allen stand over the black garbed stranger, who had been pulled off his horse and lay on the ground, groaning weakly. Allen looks back as Doctor Rose joins them.

"He looks awful sick, Doc."

"Aye, that he does," Doctor Rose muttered as he knelt down on the earth next to the man. He checked his pulse, pressing two fingers against his neck, then put his head over the man's chest and listened to the frantic heartbeat. He opened the man's eyes wide and looked at the pupils, frowning, and then sat back on his haunches.

"Severe dehydration. I'm guessing sores from riding that horse from Hell n back again..." John muttered "Someone mind fetchin' him some water?"

John turned back to the black-garbed man, and patted him gently on the face.

"Hey now fella, you hear me? What in the Lord's name happened to you?"

 

[SuperFerret]

"Aye, that he does," Doctor Rose muttered as he knelt down on the earth next to the man. He checked his pulse, pressing two fingers against his neck, then put his head over the man's chest and listened to the frantic heartbeat. He opened the man's eyes wide and looked at the pupils, frowning, and then sat back on his haunches.

"Severe dehydration. I'm guessing sores from riding that horse from Hell n back again..." John muttered "Someone mind fetchin' him some water?"

John turned back to the black-garbed man, and patted him gently on the face.

"Hey now fella, you hear me? What in the Lord's name happened to you?"

The stranger moans, his eyes roll back into his head and he begins to have a seizure.

 

[Catman_prb]

The stranger moans, his eyes roll back into his head and he begins to have a seizure.

"****!" Doc Rose swore loudly, immediately putting his hands into the man's mouth to make sure nothing was obstructing his airways, and moving his tongue out of the way of gnashing teeth. He made no attempt to restrain the man, instead checking his temperature.

"He's burning up! Jesus Christ, we need to get him into some shade, now," Rose hissed, cradling the spasming man.

 

[Byrd Man]

I walk around town to get my bearings and try to find easy marks. After a half hour of strolling and seeing the sites of this one horse town, I head back to the saloon and see a man at the bar.

The hansom outlaw pushes the doors open and sits down at the bar, pulling out a small wad of cash out of his pocket.

"What'll it be, son?" the barkeep asks.

"A bottle of your finest tequila," Kraige says coolly,"I want to celebrate."

"I'll buy." I say as I take the seat next to the man and hand the bartender two pieces of silver.

"Keep 'em coming."

I turn to my new friend and smile.

"Howdy. Name is Doctor James, Amadeus Kippling III Esquire...better known as The Inkredible Doctor Kip, explorer extraordinare and man of renowned medicine. And you would be?"

 

[Carnage27]

"I'll buy." I say as I take the seat next to the man and hand the bartender two pieces of silver.

"Keep 'em coming."

"Thanks," the outlaw says as he tips the alcohol down.

I turn to my new friend and smile.

"Howdy. Name is Doctor James, Amadeus Kippling III Esquire...better known as The Inkredible Doctor Kip, explorer extraordinare and man of renowned medicine. And you would be?"

Sly Harry looks at the man sitting next to him for the first time, and sees him grinning like an idiot.

"Renowned, huh?" Kraige asks before a long pause, "Never heard of ya."

Harrison had never been one to make new friends. All his friends from back home had gone off to war, and as far as he knew, they were all dead. Now all he needed was some money, and a girl every now and then.

But hell, the guy bought him a drink. Might as well be civil.

"Just call me Harrison."

 

[Byrd Man]

But hell, the guy bought him a drink. Might as well be civil.

"Just call me Harrison."

I smile and nod and tip my bowler back on my head.

"Well, Harrison. Now that we've become such good friends..."

I wait until the bartender is out of ear shot before I lower my voice.

"Judging from the look of you, you're man who doesn't mind making a few stupid people part with their hard earned money...a scoundrel."

I pull my spectacles down and look over them at the man.

"I am in need of such a man, and I pay very well."

 

[Carnage27]

"Judging from the look of you, you're man who doesn't mind making a few stupid people part with their hard earned money...a scoundrel."

I pull my spectacles down and look over them at the man.

"I am in need of such a man, and I pay very well."

Harrison lets out a small chuckle as he downs another shot of tequila.

"Sorry, doc. I learned a long time ago not to get involved with other people's foolish plans."

He stands and walks over to a wall with a flier on it.

"I stick with my own designs, partner."

The outlaw pulls the flier off the wall and reads about a burlesque show later in the evening.

"Besides," he says showing the flier to the other man,"looks like I got plans tonight."

 

[Harlekin]

DAY 1: SUNDAY MORNING

Jack Daniels awoke at the sounds of the church bell. There were beads of sweat on his forehead and his clothes were drenched. A patch of his shirt near his left shoulder was caked with dried up blood. The arm felt numb, dead almost and Jack groaned as he attempted to move it. He did not succeed and was forced to use his right hand to rub the sleep from his eyes.

As his hand touched his face, he could feel the hard prickly hair that had grown on his chin and across his cheeks in the last few days. It had taken him about short of half of a day to reach Tumbleweed, having to hide along the way and coping with the dizziness that came with his wound and the heat. From the feel of his face, Jack imagined he’d been sleeping for at least a day, and he was still nodding off.

Calling upon all willpower he possessed, he kept his eyes open and surveyed his surroundings. He was settled in bale of hay. There were a couple of pillows and blankets around him. Four iron walls surrounded him and he noticed light peeking through. Was that a door? Jack groaned and forced himself to sit up straight. He recognised his surroundings now. He was in a train wagon.

But how had he ended up here?

Jack put his hand to his head and forced himself to relive the events of the last few days.

He and his squadron had learned of an increasing amount of Union victories just as they had hit the town of Big Whiskey. They had wreaked havoc there, but the cavalry had arrived after a few days. In the following gun fight, all of the men but him were killed. He was shot in the shoulder and managed to hide himself. When the sun had gone down, he had fled the town and finally, in the dead of night, had arrived here.

But how had he ended up in the train car? That was still a mystery.

Turning on his side, Jack moved to sit on his knees. As he did so, he noticed that he had been undone of his uniform. He was merely wearing a shirt and pants. His blood stained handkerchief, which he had used to keep pressure on his injury, was still there. From his position on his knees, Jack shakily managed to rise and made his way over to the car’s door. It squeaked and protested as he pulled it to the side.

The harsh light of day greeted him.

Reflexively, Jack threw up his right hand to shield his eyes.

Seconds later, he spotted the Asian men and women standing before him.

Quickly, Jack let his hand drop to his side, where he thought to find his gun.

As his hand found only air, the events of two nights previous hit him.

He had arrived on the edges of the town of Tumbleweed. There he hoped to find accommodation for the rest of the night. Instead he found the same group of people that now stood before him. They had gasped. Immediately, he had drawn his gun. Jack remembered that he had said something, slurring no doubt because of the pain before passing out, the weapon still in his hand.

The Asian strangers now smiled at him. Two came over to help him down out of the car.

When he came closer to them, he noticed a woman was washing his uniform, which too had been stained with the crimson colour of blood.

A man stepped forward out of the group and bowed. Jack attempted to imitate the gesture but failed. To be truthful, he found it hard to respect an Asian man, much less consider him an equal human being.

But as Jack soon learned, the group had taken care of him almost immediately after he had collapsed. They had cleaned the wound as best they could. Fortunately, it had seemed the bullet had not hit anything vital and had also gone clean through. Extraordinary luck, really. Jack thanked them for their kindness, they replied that it was their pleasure and invited him to stay longer so that he may recuperate. They would keep his gun, for now.

Jack was reluctant to accept. For one, he had hoped to rejoin his army as quickly as possible. Secondly, he still did not care much for these people, even though they had most likely saved his life. Finally, he hadn't felt safe without his trusty side-arm since joining the Confederates.

Finally, as Jack set down with them for breakfast – none of the strangers were inclined to go to church and Jack certainly could not at this time – he looked again at his uniform, which now hang out to dry.

He turned to Zhang Fei, whom he had learned to be the leader of the group.

“Ya’all don’t care that I am a Confederate?” he asked bluntly. Jack did not know whether the tone of his voice and the question had something to do with the pain he still felt, his prejudiced disdain for the people he was with or his ideological beliefs.
Zhang Fei turned to him, neutrally and said rather deadpan: “White man wears grey coat, red coat.” He looked as if to weigh the two options. “Why would we care? He still white man.”

 

[SuperFerret]

"****!" Doc Rose swore loudly, immediately putting his hands into the man's mouth to make sure nothing was obstructing his airways, and moving his tongue out of the way of gnashing teeth. He made no attempt to restrain the man, instead checking his temperature.

"He's burning up! Jesus Christ, we need to get him into some shade, now," Rose hissed, cradling the spasming man.

Allen bends over and grabs hold of the seizing man's legs, helping Doctor Rose carry him underneath the awning in front of his store, out of the sun.

"Do you need anything, Doc?"

 

[RGDurant]

Riding into town on his grey mule, Patrick Setter swayed back and forth. His mouth dry and his head clear and sandy, he was past due for one to twenty drinks at his second home, The Froggy Dog saloon.

He slid off his mule and tied him to a hitching post, threw the stub of cigar aside, and headed in.

He took his usual place at the bar, said his hello to the barkeep and placed his order.

"Two bottles of sweet amber and a clean glass please."

It was time to knock the sober out of his head.

 

[Harlekin]

DAY 1: SUNDAY MORNING

“So what is it ya’all do here?” Jack asked as he chomped on a dry piece of bread, which was crusty and each bite he took crumbled into hard little bits that dirtied his beard. The sun shone down brightly on him and the others now, flushing them with warmth.
Zhang Fei pointed to the train tracks nearby. “That is done by us.”
“Those look finished to me,” Jack replied, raising an eyebrow. “So what are you doing now?”
“Now we clean it, keep it good.” He pointed to another man. “He switches tracks far far down road.”

During breakfast, Zhang Fei and Jack had talked some, the Asian man being one of the rare few in the group that could speak English. Like Jack, Zhang Fei was also married and his wife was among the troupe. Regrettably, he did not have children, although he hoped his wife would give him beautiful sons and daughters soon and they would be able to raise them together, here, in America. Jack wished him good luck with that.

After breakfast was finished Zhang Fei beckoned his wife to come forward. “Lei Wang has prepared some fresh clothes for you.”
“Thank you,” Jack said as he took the clothes from the woman, who merely smiled and nodded. The Confederate soldier doubted that she would’ve said anything even if she had been able to speak English.

“You got these out of town?” Jack asked as he started to put on the farmer’s clothes.
Zhang Fei nodded.
“Why don’t you live over there? Train seems to run right past it.”
“Even in enlightened town like Tumbleweed,” Zhang Fei replied and Jack was sure he caught a hint of sarcasm when Zhang Fei said ‘enlightened’, “people find our presence hard to accept.”
“So ya’all never step into town for anything but food and clothes? Have a drink?”
Zhang Fei shook his head.

When Jack changed his shirt, the Asian man replaced the blood stained handkerchief with a clean bandage. Jack winced as he did so.
“Wound will heal. You must give it time.”

Now dressed in new clothes, with a full stomach and generally feeling a lot better, Jack finally asked the question he’d wanted to ask since he had awoken.
“Why do ya’all live in a train wagon?”
“Defective cart.” Zhang Fei pointed to the wheels of the wagon. “Can not be used. Given to us.”
He shrugged. “Protects from wind and rain. Place for us to sleep.”
“Yeah, I know, but why not build a house out here for yourself?”
Zhang Fei looked at Jack as if the thought had never even crossed his mind.

 

[Mercy]

OOC:Previously

The Colour Scarlet
TWO

Jean ran back to her house, she swifted past the Church. Jean wasn't religious, surprisingly. Jean ran down the main street, through the town square and into the hotel. It wasn't really her home, but she had managed to persuade the manager into letting her stay there for quite some time.

Jean waltzed up the grand stairs, she slowly made her way down the hall, heading towards her room. She finally got there. She slammed her hand into her coat pocket, she then pulled out her key.
Soon, Jean was in her room. She was panicking. She rummaged through her draws, throwing everything out. Then, she stopped. Her eyes sparkled, her mouth dropped.

Jean had found what she had been looking for. Her revolver. Jean slowly took it out from the draws and rubbed it. A smile slowly cracked upon her face. Jean clutched the gun, she moved to the nearby mirror and examined herself with it.
"Beer or no Beer. It's time to deal with Scarlet, one way or another" Jean cracked a sinister laugh, she flicked her blonde hair back and slumped onto the bed.

Later
Jean was at the Froggy Dog Saloon.
"Busy day I guess" Jean spoke. A bartender popped out of the bar. He smiled. Jean waved her hand, signaling she doesn't want a drink.
As Jean walked towards the stage, she spotted Dean, but no sign of Scarlet. Jean ignored her surroundings, she climbed onto the stage and walked through the curtains. Some of the girls were already getting ready, laughing and chatting away.

Jean had managed to hide the gun under her coat, she was looking for a place to hide it. A few girls scattered passed her as Jean made her way towards her make-up area.
Jean sat down on the stool, peering into the mirror.
"You girls going to Church like that" Jean muttered,
"Well, obviously! The boss said to where our long cloaks, ya know, it's disrespectful to God and all if we show our legs" Cally Lavry, one of the Burlesque dancers answered. Jean rolled her eyes, she turned back to her mirror. Suddenly, a bartender came stamping in. The girls gasped and grabbed their cloaks, the bartender raised one eyebrow and smiled. He then shook his head and focused.
"I Got A Scarlet Summit looking for a Ms O'Hara!"
"Jim! She's right--" Jean covered Cally's mouth and pulled her back. Cally struggled. The bartender shrugged his shoulders and walked out again.
"If you want a fight to start then go ahead and shout where I am, but if not, keep quiet!" Jean hissed. Cally nodded, she seemed scared. Jean took a deep breath as she watched Cally disperse into the crowd of girls. She knew some time Scarlet would eventually would find her. But not now, later. After the show, Jean promised she would end this.
​

 

[SenseiofCheese]

Allen bends over and grabs hold of the seizing man's legs, helping Doctor Rose carry him underneath the awning in front of his store, out of the sun.

"Do you need anything, Doc?"

Artemis followed as Dr. Rose and Allen Rex carried the sick stranger to shade. Unsure of what to do, medical expertise not being one of his strong suits, the sheriff put his hands on his hips and watched as the Doc attempted to help the man.

"So, Doc.." Sheriff Ellsworth spoke softly, almost as if his voice could further harm the stranger. "..he gonna be okay?"

 

[Catman_prb]

Artemis followed as Dr. Rose and Allen Rex carried the sick stranger to shade. Unsure of what to do, medical expertise not being one of his strong suits, the sheriff put his hands on his hips and watched as the Doc attempted to help the man.

"So, Doc.." Sheriff Ellsworth spoke softly, almost as if his voice could further harm the stranger. "..he gonna be okay?"

"With any luck he'll snap out of it in a minute, cos I ain't got a clue. We could send him to the county clinic on the train, but those hicks'll just try 'n drain him of black bile or whatever they're callin' it this week," Doc Rose said, kneeling down next to him again.

"If he snaps round, we'll need to get some water down him sharpish, then pump him full of opium. That should sort it," he said, frowning. He cursed, and wished that he was still asleep so that Miller could deal with what he was now starting to see as a lost cause.

"If that boy's gone off with that young Shaw girl again, there'll be hell to pay," he muttered, mostly to himself.

 

[Byrd Man]

Harrison lets out a small chuckle as he downs another shot of tequila.

"Sorry, doc. I learned a long time ago not to get involved with other people's foolish plans."

He stands and walks over to a wall with a flier on it.

"I stick with my own designs, partner."

The outlaw pulls the flier off the wall and reads about a burlesque show later in the evening.

"Besides," he says showing the flier to the other man,"looks like I got plans tonight."

"Your loss, my dim-witted friend." I say as I pull away from the bar and walk out of the saloon.

The church bells are still ringing, I pull out my pocket watch and smile. Church will be taking place in a half hour or so. It's always good for a few superstitious suckers.

Putting my watch up. I start to make my way to the ringing bells. Time for some more recon.

"Glory, glory, hallelujah. His truth is marching on."

 

[Carnage27]

"Your loss, my dim-witted friend." I say as I pull away from the bar and walk out of the saloon.

The church bells are still ringing, I pull out my pocket watch and smile. Church will be taking place in a half hour or so. It's always good for a few superstitious suckers.

"Dim-witted? Hehe," Sly Harry laughs to himself. He had known many of these traveling hustlers in his day, and most of them ended up with a sheriff's bullet between their eyes. And after the size of his last score, he damn well planned to be around to spend it.

A sits back down at the bar as the church bell gongs in the distance, and a very angry looking woman starts yelling at the bartender about a Jean O'Hara.

Harrison smoothly slides up next to her and puts his hand on her hip, "Now why's such a pretty girl so upset?"

She pushes him off his stool, and onto his backside, "Back off, buster. I'm not in the mood."

The bartender returns and tells her there's no Jean here, and she turns and stomps out of the bar.

"What's got her panties in a bunch?" Kraige ponders and the bartender simply replies with a shrug.