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Top Secret Researcher
#51 Old 10th Aug 2008 at 5:16 PM
Default Felicity Ching- Saloon
Felicity always woke with the sun- not because she had many customers at such an early hour of the day, and not because she herself had any chores to accomplish, but from a simple appreciation of the morning. The sun would illuminate the bar through real glass windows- Felicity's pride and joy those windows were, gotten four years ago- and Felicity would make sure that no dust or grit had appeared during the night on the luxurious furnishings she insisted populate the saloon.

Real aged mahogany that she had caused to be imported from England made the bar and stage, and in these early mornings the expensive carpentry would gleam. The furnishings were nearly as impressive, made of oak from the east. Felicity had made herself very successful and she had no problems displaying it for the world to see. Especially since most of her patrons were not cultured enough to see the difference between her expensive eastern wood furniture and something cobbled together from scrub by the local carpenters.

A few insects perched on the glass windows- now that was a sign of wealth anyone could read- and Felicity shooed them away before polishing the entire thing. She took great pride in her establishment, and no buggy footprints would bother her windows if she had anything to say on the matter.

By the time she finished one or two of the girls had woken up and wandered downstairs, in comfortable clothes. Felicity sent one of them into a back room to start cooking. Even though the saloon had a debonair and wealthy exterior, it did not extend to its food which was either greasy and overcooked or greasy and half raw. People still ate it quite happily, and that kept the saloon from being too famous- not that that was a risk, but Felicty's sense of caution bordered on paranoia most of the time- and rather poor food left plenty of money for nice furniture, clothing for the girls, and much better food for everyone that Felicity employed.

The other girl was drafted into helping Felicity clean, though the exacting cleaning done last night made it more of a quick once over with a dust rag. The other girls slowly wandered down during this process, most going back to the kitchen to help cook or share in the companionable chatter that inevitably filled the cozy room, but a few helped clean.

Finally Felicity declared that the main parlor was acceptable- the rich woods gleamed in the morning light, the gaming tables velvety surfaces all shone, and each chair was precisely and mathematically aligned with a table or the bar. Felicity's standards of "acceptable" were what most other establishments called "entertaining the president." She did not bother to check that the girl's rooms were immaculate, by the time most customers got up there they didn't care about the environment around them.

With a sufficiently cleaned establishment Felicity told the girls to go do what they wanted, and she lay out a deck of slightly dog eared poker cards to play solitaire on the bar. She would rapidly put the deck away if a customer came in, but at the moment, when the sun still made the bar the warmest place in the room, and everything looked perfect, Felicity was content to just slowly flip up cards and wait for actual work to find her.

((OOC Approachable

Also, Alissa if your saloon girl charachter wants to interact with her, then she could have not gone to the kitchen or slept late or something. I'll modify this to go with what your girl does, unless she slept late, in which case it still works

And I'll put up a post for the sheriff after someone posts after me, its too long to have both in one post, and I don't want to double post.))

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.
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Test Subject
#52 Old 10th Aug 2008 at 7:29 PM
Default Robbie, Dex, & Ryder-- Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!
There was no denying that Ryder was merrily engrossed in very amusing dream; he had that lopsided smile smeared across his boyish face that he only wore when he was really enjoying something. Now, what exactly it was, he most likely would lose sight of as soon as he woke up; Ryder wasn't the type to remember his dreams with the crystal type of clarity that many managed. Chances were though that the young man was fully immersed in a fantasy of gaining all sorts of riches, lifting them out of the coat pockets of many a respectable member of the town they lived just outside of. Dream-Ryder slowly stalked behind the Mayor, eying his small satchel of gold pieces with a discerning eye. Oh yes, he was enjoying this. Slowly, with the utmost precision of a practiced thief, Ryder extended a single hand to loop the parcel off of it's owner's belt. It slid off easily, too easily almost. And in that brief moment of dream-induced glee, his dream-self slid the small fortune in his vest pocket and turned away ever so slightly--just enough to catch the Mayor turning in his peripheral vision. With a glimmer of panic, Ryder turned his head to see the man mouthing something. What was that? Dream-Ryder squinted his blue eyes to the point of near-blindness.

"'Ey! Wake up!"

Eh? That didn't make any sense. Why would the Mayor say that?
He heard the same phrase again, spilling from the man's lips, but this time it was duller. It sounded further away even though the Mayor himself hadn't moved a single centimeter.

Then, he felt a sharp pain in his side. Had he been shot? Ryder glanced around in a panic, reaching for his side only to find that he was nowhere near the mayor, nowhere near the town. He was laying face-down in his makeshift cot, almost inhaling dirt. And the sharp pain in his side? Not the bullet from a highly aggravated mayor--the pointed toe of a young Robbie Logan's boot, grinding in one swift jab into his ribcage as a cheerful wakeup call.

Sputtering slightly and wiping the dirt from the side of his face, Ryder shot the young boy a look that could kill. He wasn't sure what it was intended more for; the semi-painful kick, or the fact that he had stirred him from his dream before he could make a real profit off of his stolen dream goods. He was still incredibly drowsy, normally sleepy-looking eyes looking even more laughably heavy.

"Wha-...." he grumbled blankly, eyes drifting about with little conscious goal of what they were aiming to locate. Ryder massaged his side tenderly and then ran a hand through his caramel-colored hair, smoothing out the tangles that had developed in his fitful sleep.

"Hey!" the sharp, pained voice couldn't have belonged to anyone else, and Ryder allowed a small grin to form at the corners of his lips. Somebody had just gotten a taste of his own medicine judging by the loud clang that had preceded his shout.

"Keep that up, kid, and you wont live to see your next birthday." Dex. The gruff voice was unmistakable. So he was the one who had thrown the metal object.

"Just five more minutes?" Ryder pleaded in a half-joking, half-serious tone as he pulled the blanket back over his head, wriggling lower into his bed of sorts in an attempt to escape the rising sunlight.

----

((ooc: Atropaaaa! *mauls her* Jeebus! She's just....wow. I already said something in the other thread, but dear lord. She's a knockout! I quite like the adult version, but really she doesn't look all too different; she always had a mature look about her. But lawd. She's a heartbreaker. ))

"You must be the change you wish to see in the world." - Ghandi
Alchemist
#53 Old 10th Aug 2008 at 7:52 PM
Lucy -- The Stables --> The Saloon

Something...sharp and exasperatingly itchy intruded into the calm lulling sleep Lucy so comfortably lay in. She tried to banish the annoyance with the back of her hand, which collided sharply with her cheek instead, severing any hope of further rest. Grunting sleepily, Lucy shifted around and blinked her eyes open, the image which swam into focus being that of a fuzzy tangle of yellow strings that surrounded her from every side. Hay, tickling her cheek and stinging her sides where she lay curled up in the middle of a clean stack situated near the far end of the stables where the horses didn't reach. This unglamorous yet inexpensive lodging had kept Lucy sheltered from both cold and prying eyes over night, having arrived in Morgan's Creek the previous evening. To a nomad who often had to rely on stealing to satisfy the most basic need of eating, money was of the essence and Lucy did not readily part with it. Especially not to trade sleeping in a barn to sleeping in some dilapidated little inn room that probably smelled just as bad.

The sound of hooves and horses snorting mingled in the background, but slowly Lucy became aware of a different sound: more even and purposeful, the harsh scraping of shoes in the dirt.

“Oi!” called out a gruff man's voice from nearby. Realizing she was being approached from behind, Lucy twisted on the other side to get a glimpse of the intruder, previously hidden from view by the towering pile hay stacked behind her. Still blinking sleepily, the young woman's eyes fell on a perplexed looking man, whose moon-like face was contorted into a grimace of pure surprise.

“You're sleeping in my stable” he commented as though it wasn't already obvious.

“Yeah.” Lucy said simply and got to her feet, dusting her clothes off with both hands and giving the man a puckish grin “Sorry about that.”

“This town has an inn y'know.”

“I arrived late,” Lucy lied as she made her way towards the horses enclosure where her very own Blackfoot awaited patiently. It was a stout brown horse with just one black leg, hence his name. “Does this town have a saloon, too?”

“Just 'round the corner.”

Nodding a thanks his way, Lucy took a moment to visit her only companion during her peregrinations across the country, Blackfoot. She picked an apple from a nearby tree and gave it to him, stroking his soft mane, and patting his flank appreciatively. Then, she was off in search of one thing she had been craving for days: a drink. Food was plentiful in the fields if one was persistent in their search, but Lucy had been missing the bitter tang of beer on her tongue for two weeks since her last stop in a place that sold it.

Leaving the stables, it didn't take long for Lucy to find herself gazing at the gleaming facade of Morgan Creek's Saloon, which at that time of the morning seemed scarcely populated. It certainly looked far better maintained than the establishments Lucy was used to, which brought an undecided frown to her brow: what if the high standards extended to the prices?

Deciding there was only one way to find out, Lucy left the dirt road and entered, pausing briefly in the doorway to sweep an appraising glance over the scrubbed and polished floors and furniture, suddenly feeling a tinge out of place in her dusty, travel-worn condition: masculine attire, comprised of sturdy leather boots that bore the signs of much use, worn brown pants made of durable weave, a loose semi-yellow shirt peeking out of a wide-shouldered sheepskin jacket. Lucy's cheeks were freckled from being out in the sun and her long brown hair was half-bound in a loose knot that kept it off her face.

She made her way across the room to the empty bar, eyes falling upon the woman who sat there idly flipping cards, the first thing she noticed being her Oriental features.

“Morning,” Lucy greeted as she took a seat. “Can I have a pint of your cheapest, please?”

No point in dancing around the issue: she couldn't afford anything else.


((ooc: I hope this is okay, Furry! And YAY it started! :D))

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
Top Secret Researcher
#54 Old 10th Aug 2008 at 8:36 PM
Default Felicty and Lucy- Saloon
Felicity's game of solitaire had ended fairly quickly, and so, in some degree of boredom she had gone to carefully going through the saloon's decks of cards, making sure there weren't any that had tell tale rips or marks that would give someone an advantage. Carefully flipping them one at a time, she was interrupted- finally!- by a young woman walking in.

Working for the larger part of her life in one saloon or another had allowed Felicity to read people quickly. This woman, dark haired, somewhat dirty, and wearing pants instead of a skirt, was cultured enough to pause a moment and appreciate the meticulous cleanliness of the place. Felicity didn't recognize her at all, so she was new in town. Or in general too poor to utilize the saloon's services. All in all this gave Felicity the impression of someone on rather hard times... or someone who preferred to give off that sort of message. She had met both in her years, and would treat this one the same as the others of the category- with her usual levels of kindness, and slightly cheaper liquor. People who were on hard times and a bit soused were usually grateful and oftimes amusing.

In the time it had taken for Felicity to gather this impression the woman had walked across the room, pausing before climbing on one of the stools. That one also happened often enough, either because they didn't want to mess up her meticulously clean stools, or because she was a woman. And Asian. One could not forget the Asian origins. The other woman's voice was pleasant and even enough however when she said, Morning. Can I have a pint of your cheapest, please?”

Poor then. Felicity was much to mature to let a bit of hesitation over her facial features interfere with her business, and she cheerfully responded, "Of course, if you'd hold on a moment?" She didn't wait to let the woman answer, already going back to the impressive collection of kegs and bottles that lined the wall behind the bar. She took a tumbler, sparkling clean, like everything else, and wiped it down quickly with a cloth, adding to its already glassy shine. Unlike everything else, the tumbler was cheap- made of very poor quality, bubbly glass- but it was clean and well used, which made Felicity deem it acceptable for her establishment. Also, finding nice glass cups was nigh on impossible out here. And crystal was too expensive, given how few cups actually made it back to the bar at the end of each day.

Felicity filled the tumbler from one of the kegs- most definitely not the cheapest beer to acquire, but some of the overly yeasty garbage that she got from the brewer in Fairgrove was so popular that she was able to- and did- charge ten times what it was worth. Hence what she charged least for was actually quite good, a bit thick for Felicity's taste, but not bad, especially given what she charged for it.

She walked the glass and its contents back to her customer, offering it to her. "There you go miss," she said cheerfully, "Hope you enjoy it."

Felicity was a bit tempted to ask what the woman was doing in town. There was a fine line between a nice bar keep and an annoying pryer, and Felicity knew that her Oriental features kept her uncomfortably close to that line most of the time. Rather than ask she merely sat went back to the far wall to get herself a drink- this one without any alcohol and join the other woman. That could be construed as a bit familiar, but then again, seeing how clean the bar was, she could easily justify it as having nothing better to do. The silence lingered companionably for a moment, then Felicity thought randomly, "Eh, screw it."

"So, I don't think I've seen you before. Mind if I inquire what brings you to Morgan's Creek?"

((OOC: Yeah, that was fine. And so much for short posts, eh? lol.))

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.
Scholar
#55 Old 10th Aug 2008 at 8:45 PM
Default Scarlett - In the Saloon
Scarlett liked slumber. No, like was too mild a word for it, it was something closer to ‘Scarlett had an unnatural dependency on slumber’. Back at the orphanage, she always had sweet sleep forcibly yanked from her hands and replaced by what was really modern slavery. It just wasn’t fair. So, it was completely fair that now, given the opportunity to do so, she took every possible pleasure in revelling in slumber.

She’d earned it after all. She was the most popular girl in the saloon, the patrons always flocking in to watch her dance, hear her sing and let her charm them. Fortune of fortunes, she’d caught the more important people’s eyes – the Mayor in particular – and so, she was ‘reserved’ for him, she didn’t have to go upstairs with every Tom, Dick and Harry that walked into the joint. She was more the entertainment, the prelude to what they were actually there for, and good thing too, because, by God, there some ridiculous old douche bags stumbling into the place.

Now, now, rolling around in bed was all the fun, but it did get to a point where she had to get up and get out. Mainly because she was hungry. So, out it was, to wash and get ready and then run down to the kitchen to see what she could find. After all, she had woken up pretty late and the good stuff was probably all gone, resting comfortably in the tummies of all the other girls. Curse them, they’ll just get fat off it.

So, there she was, descending down the wooden stairway, the saloon not bustling with life yet, dressed in a red dressshe randomly pulled out, her fiery red locks free and loose, watching as Felicity moved behind the bar, faced with some lady Scarlett had never seen before. God, she was famished.

(((OOC: Took me a while, but I finally got her out! Scarlett's out in the Saloon and approachable. Don't worry about the hunger
Also, Scarlett's bio's been updated with Sim pics too )))

"Life is just a chance to grow a soul" - A. Powell Davies
Test Subject
#56 Old 10th Aug 2008 at 8:49 PM
Default Elizabeth Williams - Morning, Day 1
Elizabeth woke up bright and early, not being bothered by the roosters that sang with the wind in the morning. Her wavy hair was messy and knotted on the back of her head, and her sleeping gown straight and clean against her normal sized body. Starting her daily morning routine, she took her time waking up, put on a pot of hot water, and went back to her tiny bedroom to make her bed, so it was fresh for the evening. By the time she had gathered her books and teaching materials, the water was boiling. She carefully poured it into a mug and added a tea bag to the water.

She sipped the tea while she dressed and read her favorite book, Pride and Prejudice. It was given to her the day she left Fairgrove by her aunt. It was her favorite book also. Her aunt told her "It has been passed down ever since it was published, and hopefully you will pass it down to your daughter." Elizabeth had no plans of children, but she was no psychic. After her tea was finished, Elizabeth pinned her hair up neatly, placed all of her papers and workbooks in a folder, and headed outside, locking the door behind her.

She was walking to the school while some people were just waking up. She placed everybody's workbooks on their appropriate desks, and the corrected papers on her desk. She sat down, sorting out the papers into neat piles, and putting some of her personal books on the small, sinlge bookshelf for the students to read. In a couple of minutes, students would be arriving, and a new day would start. Elizabeth took a deep breath, and smiled.

((Children and teenagers are welcome to arrive at the schoo. If you don't show, I will assume that they are too old, or being taught at home.))
Top Secret Researcher
#57 Old 10th Aug 2008 at 10:15 PM
Default William Dawes- Sheriff's Office
William hated mornings. It was not any dislike of the time of day- indeed early morning was when the weather was best and when the deserted town looked its best, at least in William's opinion. No, it was that mornings meant he had to awaken. And when he awoke his Amelia died again, for she was what he dreamed of every night and only then could he forget the still crushing grief.

However, he could not sleep all day, and this morning, like every other morning, after indulging in burning self pity and longing he rolled to his feet from his bed in the small flat above the jail where he made his home.

The cold, slightly dusty wood floor made William seriously contemplate sliding back into bed, but he persevered to get dressed and stumble down to his office, where the coal stove released a pleasant warmth and heated a pot of water for coffee. In this climate he considered every afternoon getting rid of the thing- it belched smoke all over the walls of his office, took hours to get a flame to catch, and most afternoons, no matter how well banked the coals were, his office turned into a sauna. Amelia had insisted they get it however, and that meant it stayed. Also, the stove made some of the best coffee he'd ever had, hence why it was usually stoked.

William drank his coffee and was finally fully awake, and willing to stay that way. Which brought him to the little problem that had arrived on his doorstep yesterday afternoon. The stage coach robbery was sudden to say the least... and rather clumsy. For the most part over the past few years these outlaws had been clever, but leaving behind the horse with all the loot? He hadn't been there of course, but it would probably have been trivial to get the animal and its cargo back. But they hadn't... William had not gotten the same version of the stage coach robbery from any of the three men who had been there, and one of them told two entirely different stories. Hence why he wasn't too concerned about the outlaws having set something up, they would have done a better job to not arouse his suspicions.

Which left the problem of the bags of money, containing- not that he would admit to counting it- one thousand two hundred forty three dollars. A fortune that was, although William suspected the mayor would insist on making it a nice round number from the city coffers- as in swelling the coffers and depleting the bags. Graft and corruption did have to be factored in, William had been sheriff long enough to know that well.

Even after some of the money was stolen by purely legal means- meaning the law taking it- there would be a fortune to carry back to Fairgrove. And that was the difficult part. William was an honest man, and that meant he knew full well how dishonest some people could be. Which was why he hadn't already gone to the post office and given some bloke the money to take back to Fairgrove. He had an unearned reputation as an idiot, but no one would think him foolish enough to hand a man a thousand dollars and say, "Take this to the next town, and you'll be paid your two dollars a day."

He did not want to go himself, he was not old by anyone's imagination- except possibly his own- but he did not think that carting money across the countryside was the sheriff's responsibility. But who else could he trust with it? After giving himself a royal headache with that vicious cycle, he decided to take a walk through the town, hoping that it would clear his head.

Putting on his hat he stepped into the morning sunshine, and slowly ambled up Main Street.

((OOC: Approachable))

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.
Test Subject
#58 Old 11th Aug 2008 at 12:25 AM
Name: Luke Schumacher
Age: 19
Occupation: Cattle Ranch Owner
Short bio: Luke was born in Morgan's Creek, along with his older brother, Emery. His mother passed away during his birth, leaving the boys with just their father, owner of Schumacher Cattle Ranch. The latter blamed Luke for the death of his wife and wanted nothing to do with him, leaving Emery to raise his younger brother with only the help of the ranch hands. The brothers grew up learning to care for and respect one another, whilst their father slowly fell into a drunken depression, never getting over his wifes death. After his death in a drunken brawl five years ago, Emery inherited the ranch and Luke continued to help out up until an argument that saw him leave town in order to make a name for himself elsewhere. The brothers had no contact up until Luke received a letter informing him of his brothers death and the fact that he had inherited the ranch. He returned to find that he had a bereaved sister in law and a niece still living there. He couldn't find it in his heart to send them away and he wasn't entirely confident that he could actually run the ranch, as he had been away from it all for so long. He has come to deeply care for both Constance and little Emmy and takes care of them in his brothers place. His biggest regret is that he never made up with Emery, he can't even remember clearly why they had argued in the first place but he has sworn revenge against the bandit that took his brothers life.


((OOC: Ok, short I know but I'll try to expand a little later when I have more time.))
#59 Old 11th Aug 2008 at 1:57 AM
Default Lillie Westwood || The Bakery
Lillie gave one glance around her bedroom and let out an exasperated sigh. Bits of sunshine had somehow seeped through her curtains and onto the wood floor, as if it was coming to tell her that morning had arrived. She rolled on her side, determined to shield herself from the blinding light that bothered her so. Yet the sun’s rays remained relentless, filling the entire room with bothersome light. Pulling the covers back she muttered quietly under her breath, quite unenthusiastic about today for she had no desire to open the bakery. Her brother Harry had not yet returned with a large amount of gold she expected him to bring, and her business began running slow. Hardly any customers ever entered the bakery, so she found no point in opening her business.

Yet she ignored the complaining voice in her head and changed into a green long sleeved dress, trudging down the long flight of stairs to the bakery. When she came down the stairs, immediately she opened her store for the rest of the town to enter when they pleased, though she knew they probably wouldn’t come. It would be just her luck for no one to show up, not even for a simple apple pie. Her thoughts trailed over to the thought of stealing, but she vowed she would no longer go back to that horrible lifestyle. She had no intention of stealing from anyone any longer, though the thought always rung in the back of her mind.

The adrenaline rush she felt whenever she stole something was overwhelming. It made her feel powerful, as if she could never be caught. Of course there was always the possibility of being found out, but if you struck at just the right time….

Lillie shook her head and stared out the window, gazing at the townspeople that passed by. Not one of the even gave a second glance towards the bakery, which caused her to wonder whether or not she should revert back to her old ways. If business didn’t pick up soon, she would be out on the streets, begging for money. She would not allow herself to be humiliated in such a way, thus bringing forth her dark side. If times became tough, she would do what she need to in order to survive.

((Approachable ))
#60 Old 11th Aug 2008 at 4:21 AM
Default Constance Schumacher - @ the Ranch
Constance awoke with the sun as she always did, and with a tired yawn, she went to the water basin and washed the remnants of drowsiness away. Afterward, she dressed and headed downstairs to start the day, and once in the kitchen, she began humming a cheerful tune as she prepared a hearty breakfast of porridge, eggs and milk.

After the food was finished and the table set, she sat down to write a list of what she needed from town that day as she waited for Luke to come down and the ranch hands to come in from the bunkhouse.

It wasn’t long before the men started drifting in, and as Constance started dishing their breakfast, they all kept their conversations to what would be considered rather low for a group of rowdy ranch hands. They did this because they had long ago learned that one of the quickest ways to earn Constance’s ire in the morning was to wake Emmy too early.
Lab Assistant
#61 Old 11th Aug 2008 at 6:43 AM
Name: Elsie Strand
Age: 21
Occupation: Innkeeper
Bio:
Though she may seem young to be an innkeeper, Elsie is the capable owner of The Creek Inn. Her parents came to Morgan’s Creek before she was born, and by the time Elsie was born they had already established the inn as the place to stay when visiting town. Being raised in the inn, she grew up socializing with a variety of people and as a result she is very friendly and outgoing.

Sadly, her mother died of appendicitis when Elsie was 11 which left her having to help her father run the inn. By the time she was 16 she knew how to handle all aspects of the business, and as the years progressed, she assumed more and more responsibilities as her father’s health began failing.

About a year ago, her father succumbed to pneumonia and Elsie inherited the inn. Since then she has successfully carried on the family business. Though she is still friendly and outgoing, throughout the years, she has been told numerous times by several people that she couldn’t run an inn - usually because she’s a woman or because of her age. Thus, she has developed a bit of a stubborn streak which becomes evident whenever she’s told she can’t do something.

Picture:








My first 1st Place Miss~Mrs Universe 4 Augusta Stone

"Don't say thanks for nothing, knowing I did nothing for you is thanks enough."

Retired Moderator
retired moderator
Original Poster
#62 Old 11th Aug 2008 at 12:50 PM
Default Robbie with Dex and Ryder (and the other outlaws) - outlaw hideout
Robbie, as a result of the last couple of months of tagging along with this bunch of outlaws, had gotten used to being picked on. For his lack of experience, for accidently revealing his flaws as a possible outlaw, or for simply being an easy target when the others were bored. Yes, indeed, he was used to it, but knew that most of the time, it was done with a sense of good natured humor, with no real ill intent. Though he did reckon they sometimes saw it as a way of trying to make him realize he just wasn't ready to be made part of their more dangerous endeavors.
But sometimes, the reason for getting picked on was none of the above, but rather a direct response to something he himself did, and having a few months of experience in the field, he'd come to expect it. If he found a way of getting back at them, then sure enough, they would find a way to tip the scales once more.

Therefore, when Dex retaliated, in deeds and in words, it came as no surprise to the young man.

"Keep that up, kid", came the older man's gruff voice from the exact spot where he'd been sleeping, travelling much the same path as the tin cup a moment earlier, "and you won't live to see your next birthday".

His counterattack had caused a few satisfied smirks and chuckles among the others, one of them coming from Ryder, who then went on to pull his tattered blanket over his head in a way that almost had Robbie questioning why it was him that was being treated like a five year old kid, and not Ryder.

"Just five more minutes?" the man said, clearly not ready to be dragged from his slumber just yet.

At that, Robbie gave a shrug as though he didn't care. And he didn't. If Ryder preferred his morning coffee lukewarm, and the now warmed up day-old bread they were having for breakfast, back to being just plain cool, stale and dry, then it was his problem. Or maybe he wanted to pass them up altogether?

"Fine by me", the young man said, shooting Ryder a sly glance as though anticipating a newfound interest in crawling out from underneath that blanket. "More food for the rest of us."

With that, he turned then to Dex, and as he picked up one of the warmed up buns from the circle of rocks around the fire and tossed it the older man, pointedly retorted;

"And at least it'll spare me from dying of boredom here."

~ * ~ Volition ~ * ~
Test Subject
#63 Old 11th Aug 2008 at 3:47 PM
Default Luke Schumacher - The Ranch
Luke blinked as the morning sun blared through the thin, netted curtains. He blinked and glanced out of the window before silently cursing to himself upon realising that he had overslept a little. He got himself dressed and took the gun from under his pillow before making his way downstairs, being careful to avoid the creaky floorboard at the bottom so as not to wake little Emmy or endure the wrath of Constance. He'd been down that road before and didn't wish to make a repeat of it. Not because he was scared, but because he just couldn't be bothered with it. He cared for her like a sister, and the feeling was mutual, but even pseudo siblings had their feuds. He entered the kitchen and noticed that everyone was awake already and helping themselves to breakfast. Knowing that he was a little late down, he sat down at the table and looked up at the others with is trade mark cheeky smile.

''Morning all, Lil Emmy still sleeping?''
Scholar
#64 Old 11th Aug 2008 at 5:23 PM
Default Stella Owens : Catching up to gwen
Stella had an intense dislike of school. She was 15 years old after all, in her opinion far too old to be going in the first place. She should be occupied with thoughts of marriage and a family, but there was certainly a lack of prospects for that in this town. School was a sort of necessary evil for her, something she had to do but had no intrest in. And her work most certainly showed it. Not the most apt pupil in the world, her mind was more occupied with thoughts of pretty dresses, like the new one she wore right now, than sums and grammar.

"At least" she thought as she walked down the streets to the schoolhouse, blonde locks held in place by a bow at the back of her head "This is my last year of school. I won't have to bore myself with it anymore". She smiled at the thought as she continued down the street, noticing Gwen walking ahead with her little sister.

" Good morning Gwen" she called, waving her free hand "Wait for me, we can walk together".


(((OOC: Think the dress she has on in the family picture there :P)))

You can call me Robyn, tis my name after all
SixWordStories
Lab Assistant
#65 Old 11th Aug 2008 at 5:50 PM
Default Nikita - Home & then at the Outlaw Hideout.
Nikita rose with the sun, as she did every day since before she could even remember. It was ingrained in her, plus she loved to watch the sun rise over the mountains. After washing up and getting dressed, she fed Dakotah and went to grab a large iron pot from her kitchen; her crops were doing quite well this year and so she'd made quite a bit more food than she really needed. The woman knew who could use it and appreciate it, however! With the pot sealed and herbs gathered, Nikita made her way for the door.

"Come on, little brother," she called over her shoulder to Dakotah, the wolf hybrid pricking up his ears and bolting after her with his tail a-wagging. He had a pretty good idea of where they were going and plus, Nikita had food. If he didn't follow, he might miss the chance that she could drop it and he'd get to slurp it all up.

The pair cut a path through the woods, going the back way to the hideout so as not to be seen by anyone. Nikita was good at knowing how to blend in with nature, but what native wasn't really? Soon enough they'd breached the treeline and covertly darted toward the outlaw's sanctuary. Upon arrival, Nikita noticed that Dex and Ryder were still trying to sleep while Robbie sulked near the fire.

Chuckling as she approached, the woman looked down to the boy. "I see you are the first to rise, as usual," she said, grinning as Dakotah trotted over to Robbie for some attention. Besides, he had food too! If the teenager wasn't careful, the sneaky canine might try to nab himself a bite of the nearby bread.

Nikita set down the large pot next to the fire before she walked over to the men, looking down at them with her hands firmly placed upon the shapely curves of her hips. "You know, waking in the morning might not seem so terrible if you both went to bed at a decent hour," she teased her friends, before turning her gaze on Ryder. "I brought the herbs you wanted, plus some bitterroot for anyone who might get a sore throat. It's beginning to be that season for such. I also brought some soup for everyone, I made far too much for just myself and thought you all might like it. You'll need to heat it up, though."

_____________________________________

( OOC: Hope that this works for all. )
Test Subject
#66 Old 11th Aug 2008 at 8:38 PM
It really made very little sense for Ryder to be so generally pleased with his sleeping situation. All things considered, the tattered blankets he was laying upon were hardly desirable in comparison to his prior sleeping arrangements. He could still recall his old bed...oh, how lovely it was. Soft as feathers, and huge. So massively, unbelievably huge. It seemed outrageously large now, as if it should belong to a giant and not a mere man, simply because his fading memory of those times had to improvise just what exactly the heavenly bed had resembled in reality. And yet somehow, Ryder was just as pleased with his tiny makeshift bed there in the often uncaring skirts of nature, where tiny rocks and pebbles prodded at his back whenever he rolled or turned even in the slightest. As shabby as the tangible aspects of his new bed were, they were more than made up for in the peace he felt through resting in the unchecked open, the unfenced territory. While in his sheltered home he had drowned in a sea of finely made sheets, he now bathed in a blanket of cool open sky. And there was no putting a price on that.

Robbie seemed to be increasingly annoyed with the collective whole of their group when they wouldn't respond accordingly to his attempts to shake them, physically if necessary, from their beds. Truthfully Ryder couldn't blame the boy for his mounting sense of mild indignation, but the sleepiness tugging at his weary eyes was too great to overcome in order to indulge him.

"Fine by me," Robbie said with a faint indifference in his tone, though his eyes would say otherwise, before he paused for a moment to allow the curiosity to build in Ryder. The words and the gap in speech sent Ryder's crystal blue eyes peeking slightly over the tattered edge of his blanket; not enough to coax him out from under its protective layer of warmth, but only enough to observe the sly expression that had darted across Robbie's young features. "More food for the rest of us."

...Pardon? If he wasn't mistaken, he had just heard the topic of his food come into question, and he didn't like that one bit. As though he had been delivered a swift kick in the rear, Ryder was throwing his covers off, pulling on his boots, and rubbing fervently at his eyes in an attempt to rouse him from his semi-drowsy state.

"Oh ho, nevermind then." He scrambled away from his bed and appeared next to the young man, face alight with mirth as he eyed the small amount of provisions that Robbie had so dutifully set out for the camp of men.

"You always have had a way with words," a small chuckle pressed passed his lips as he shot Robbie a smirk that revealed he was slightly irked with the boy's clever means of getting him out of his bed, but also simultaneously proud for his resourcefulness. As he glanced from item to item, Ryder tried to decide just what he was going to force down his throat to satiate the hunger growing there from the previous night.

"I see you are the first to rise, as usual,"

The delicately feminine voice most certainly didn't belong to Robbie, and certainly didn't belong to Dex, so the options of to whom it could belong were very limited. Sending a glance over his shoulder, Ryder immediately recognized the female standing by Robbie to be Nikita and her canine companion, Dakotah. They were frequenters of the outlaw outposts, if only because they themselves weren't exactly accepted among the 'normal' townsfolk.

"You know, waking in the morning might not seem so terrible if you both went to bed at a decent hour,"

At that Ryder emitted a low, amused chuckle. Their line of work didn't exactly go hand and hand with a good bedtime. He shot a glance over to Dex and smiling and shrugging lazily before glancing over at the pretty woman.

"Depends on your definition of a 'decent hour'," he questioned, pulling off a piece of the stale bread and placing it in his mouth, chewing with a mildly concerted effort before swallowing.

"I brought the herbs you wanted, plus some bitterroot for anyone who might get a sore throat. It's beginning to be that season for such. I also brought some soup for everyone, I made far too much for just myself and thought you all might like it. You'll need to heat it up, though."

With a look of boyish excitement, Ryder bounded over to her and clasped her hands into his own with a wide smile.

"Ah, you are too wonderful! The bitterroot was a brilliant idea, and the soup was too generous, but greatly appreciated. What ever would I do without you?"

He chuckled and carefully took the items from her that he would need for the makeshift medicinal treatments he often had to deliver, and placed them in a nearby bag for safe-keeping.


((sorry for the general suckiness. I had a whole response typed out, and then I accidentally clicked ctrl+r instead of ctrl+b and lost the whole thing. sigghhh.))

"You must be the change you wish to see in the world." - Ghandi
Scholar
#67 Old 11th Aug 2008 at 8:56 PM
(((OOC: That reminds me, I really, really should have mentioned that Kate also has a dog; Asher - I really need to stop giving most of my characters pets....)))

"Life is just a chance to grow a soul" - A. Powell Davies
Top Secret Researcher
#68 Old 11th Aug 2008 at 9:01 PM
Default William- Main Street (and Kate)
William was slowly ambling up the town's main thoroughfare, greeting a few people by name, but mostly lost in his own thoughts. Not many people were out at this hour, and William was perfectly content to just wander and take in the sun.

He drew near to the town center and saw a woman whom he only vaguely recognized. He searched in his mind for a moment or two as his slow amble drew him abreast with her, and then remembered that she was a doctor who had arrived in town... at some point. For the most part he avoided the doctors in town... after one had failed to save Amelia or even ease her passing, he was prejudiced against the entire profession. Not on any personal level, but he would take his chances.

So he touched the brim of his hat, nodded his head and said politely, "Miss." She was free to keep walking, or to speak with him as she chose, and as for him, he could either mull over an unsavory problem while talking to the town doctor, or mull over an unsavory problem while pacing through the town. Neither was preferable, so he didn't mind.

((OOC: A bit short, but he just greeted Kate))

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.
Scholar
#69 Old 11th Aug 2008 at 9:17 PM
Default Kate and William - Town
Walking through the town streets as she made her way to the infirmary, Kate ran into a number of the town’s residents, some who stopped to chat and others who simply made a cordial greeting and made their way onwards. The main issue about being the town doctor was that you lived among those that you treated and while it helped that they knew you enough to trust you – and thus your judgement and the fact that you had their best interests at heart – some did grow uncomfortable about the fact that you knew more about their lives than they’d like most people to.

It was an issue and it was an occupational hazard. However, Kate liked her profession far too much – the sheer satisfaction of keeping others in their best form – to let that downside of the responsibility get to her. In fact, it was quite the opposite, for it meant that though they were clearly uncomfortable with someone else knowing their secrets, they’d bravely overcome their fears and talked to her about it. It showed willingness to trust and that, for Kate, meant more than any passing greeting would.

However, that did not mean that she did not like being greeted and spoken to. She enjoyed it very much, it made her feel more part of the town than just the keeper of their secrets, than just the hired help, for as a doctor, one was in so much danger of being sidelined, watching and maintaining things from the edge. That, Kate would not enjoy. Thankfully, it wasn’t the case, both due to the town’s acceptance and Kate’s own amicable professionalism.

One such man proving that was currently walking up to her; Sheriff Dawes. He did have somewhat of a reputation for being… useless, but really, everyone did have to consider the fact that the man had risen to the position of Sheriff and thus, he had to be capable of something, anything, at the very least. However, he was one of the patients – for all had to register with her at least – that could look her in the eye, possibly because the only time he ever saw her was when she had to treat one of the prisoners… and even then she had very little interaction with William himself. Though, he was being rather cordial at this very moment.

“Miss,” he greeted casually as he tipped the brim of his hat, to which Kate responded with a small nod and the casual, warm smile of conviviality. He was a slightly aging man, but he was doing it rather well, she had to admit, hair cut close to his head, rather clean shaven, obviously someone looking after themselves. There were no overt signs of any developing problems, but still. Just because they weren’t overt did not mean they were not there.

“Good morning, Sheriff,” she greeted back, taking the opportunity to enquire after his health; a doctor was never off duty, though that ecouraging simle over her sculpted features suggesting that she was more than just a cold profession, that she could be a counsellor, a friend or simple support. “I must admit, I haven’t seen much of you. How are you?”

(((OOC: Hope this works for you, Furry )))

"Life is just a chance to grow a soul" - A. Powell Davies
Top Secret Researcher
#70 Old 11th Aug 2008 at 10:24 PM
Default William and Kate- Main Street
William usually greeted people when he saw them, both because his parents had raised him to be gentlemanly, and because when Amelia was alive she would not only greet people but speak with all of them at length, making walking across town an all day endeavor. Now he mainly did it to be polite, and his reputation generally kept the levels of conversation down. He preferred it that way- taking three hours to walk a quarter mile was something only Amelia could make endearing.

He was not annoyed when conversation did happen, after all he was asking for it, but when it did happen he was usually surprised. A slightly better deserved part of his reputation was as a bad small talker.

His pleasant grin at the early morning light and calm slouch did not change when the good doctor answered, “Good morning, Sheriff.” An exchange of cordial greetings was perfectly normal and acceptable.

She continued speaking however, inquiring politely, “I must admit, I haven’t seen much of you. How are you?” That one did make William stand up straighter and get his face to a somewhat distracted smile. Most people couldn't tell the difference between his quietly walking around town, and his quietly speaking purely to be civil. Amelia had been able to tell... and she was the only one who pointed it out. Which did not mean she was the only one who knew, come to think of it.

Thinking about it reflexively made William's face go back to its usual expression. He would try to be personable. It hadn't been difficult for Amelia after all...

He blinked, realizing he had gotten lost in his own analysis of Amelia's opinion of his facial expressions, thus forgetting the person he was talking to. He really would have to stop thinking about her so much. She had been dead more than a year after all. "I've been busy, the outlaws in the area have gotten much more brazen of late. Otherwise everything is fine, I've been dealing with the problems with the outlaws more than anything else," he offered blandly.

It was true enough as far as it went... He wasn't truly fine, the fact he still would stand in the middle of a street and think about Amelia confirmed that, but the outlaws were indeed becoming a problem... getting that much money from the bank in Fairgrove was clearly a problem. The latter would cancel out the former most of the time at least, for which William was grateful. If he had had to deal with any financial woes or not been kept busy- not that the townsfolk thought he was- then he knew he would be in bad straits.

((OOC: sorry that took so long, bit of multitasking with my contest atm))

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.
Alchemist
#71 Old 11th Aug 2008 at 10:29 PM
Felicity and Lucy - The Saloon

Lucy had tasted many beverages in her time, some so crude that they burned the throat as they coursed down it, others sour as curdled milk. Fine liquor was simply not affordable to someone like her, moving from town to town, earning little and stealing plenty, and except for the occasional drink bought for her by someone with more means, Lucy had to satisfy herself with cheap treats.

Right now, really, truly shouldn't have spent the money on beer, when she remained without a roof over her head or food to eat. And still, after two weeks of uninterrupted travel on horseback and on foot, often spending the night in the fields, living off the land as much as possible, Lucy craved a treat, something pleasant to remind her she was still part of the civilized world. In a manner of speaking.

And there it arrived in the form of murky amber liquid contained in a semi-opaque glass, oozing the so easily recognizable, bitter scent of beer.

"There you go miss," the Oriental woman said with a smile, "Hope you enjoy it."

Miss...there had been some time since someone had referred to Lucy that way. In fact, she wasn't even sure if she liked it or felt uncomfortable.

“Oh believe me, I will” the young woman responded eagerly and reached for the glass. “Thank you.”

Lifting it to her lips, Lucy slowly slurped the liquid, twirling her tongue around to better taste it, a satisfied smile slowly emerging on her lips as it slid down her throat. She didn't care if it was cheap, badly-brewed stuff, a beer was a beer. Especially then.

A short silence passed during which Lucy sampled her drink again, taking care not to finish it too quickly, for she doubted she could afford another.

"So, I don't think I've seen you before. Mind if I inquire what brings you to Morgan's Creek?"

Lifting her hazel-green eyes, Lucy gazed at the woman in silence as she pondered the question: it was something she heard often, for in every town she visited she was a stranger. There had been eight years since she had been in a place she could call home, and that was a time that Lucy did not enjoy thinking about. Too many ill memories, too much repressed hurt.

“The open road,” Lucy replied and gestured to one side as though to visually represent that particular thought, smiling puckishly. There really wasn't an answer to give to that question, despite the fact that the woman couldn't have known it: like all the others, Morgan's Creek simply happened to emerge along the way. How long she would remain there...difficult to say. It depended on the options. “I go where it goes, and I've never been around these parts so I thought it'd be worth the while.”

Pausing for a moment to take another gulp of her beer, Lucy continued:

“Name's Lucy, by the way.”

If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
#72 Old 12th Aug 2008 at 1:51 AM
Default Constance and Luke - The Ranch
With the men seated and eating, Constance was just starting to wonder what was keeping Luke when she finally heard him moving about upstairs. Before long, she heard his footsteps on the stairs, so she filled his bowl and was just setting it on the table when he came into the kitchen.

Noticing his gun, a slight frown creased her brow. She did wish he wouldn’t wear it in the house, but since that was a road they’d already been down a few times, she knew it was pointless to argue about it. Still, seeing the gun always at his side gave her the impression that he expected to be attacked at any time.

Of course, she thought, Emery didn’t expect to be attacked in the short ride from town... After nearly three years, one of the hardest things about Emery’s murder was the fact that no one had been brought to justice for it. With an almost imperceptible sigh she shook those dour thoughts away as Luke took his seat.

''Morning all, Lil Emmy still sleeping?'' he asked with his usual smile.

“Good morning,” she smiled as resisted the urge to comment on his sleeping in. Though it would have been intended in fun, she usually tried not to appear to mother him in front of the other men.

“Da-“ one man started, but then he caught her “I dare you to finish” look, “-arrrnn right she is.”

“Yeah,” another chimed in, “you don’t mess with the woman that cooks your food.” He finished by holding up his now empty bowl, and giving Constance a hopeful look.

“And don’t you forget it,” Constance said with a playful smile as she refilled his and a couple others’ bowls. “So then,” she said, after putting the pot back on the oven and turning once again to Luke, “I’m going into town today for supplies. Is there anything you’d like me to get?”
Top Secret Researcher
#73 Old 12th Aug 2008 at 6:07 AM
Default Felicity and Lucy- Saloon
Felicity did not run the saloon just for the money- though that most certainly was her main motivation- but because she got to see and observe so many different types of people, and make them happy. It fascinated her to see all the different sorts, and the more she saw the better able she was to predict what would, and she enjoyed that. It almost made her feel like she was all knowing. She knew that that was irrational, but that did not mean she didn't enjoy it. Equally irrational was how pleased she got when her business's services made someone happy, but that Felicity felt no need to justify.

So she was quite pleased to see how eager the woman was for her beer, agreeing quite quickly that she would enjoy it. It certainly wasn't the best stuff in the house, but it was far from the worst. Felicity's curiosity was slightly piqued, yes the liquor was decent, but hardly something to savor. Unless one had been bone dry for a while? That was probably it.

She had gotten her own drink as the woman answered, so she saw doubted that the woman had seen the flash of smile that crept onto Felicity's face.

When she asked about the woman's business in town a few minutes later she lifted her gaze to Felicity's face and sat silently for a long moment. Felicity cursed her curiosity momentarily, making her pry and possibly chase off customers, but just as Felicity was about to apologize for prying the woman said, “The open road.” She gestured outside and gave a smile, as if that was an answer to the question! Course the road had brought her, it wasn't as though human beings could fly from city to city! Then again, it really wasn't a Chinese barkeep's place to inquire.

Felicity's opinion of the woman was redeemed however, when she continued after a moment, “I go where it goes, and I've never been around these parts so I thought it'd be worth the while.”

That coaxed a smile to Felicity's lips. Obviously she'd never been in the area if she thought there was anything worth visiting. There was dirt... and some differently colored dirt... and an excellent floor show at the saloon, after which people could see... dirt.

The woman took another swig of beer and finished by saying, “Name's Lucy, by the way.”

Felicity gave her a moment to continue if she wanted, but when she didn't, she herself spoke, saying, "Mine's Felicity, pleasure to meet you."

She took a swig of her own beverage- glorified and heavily spiced vinegar- before continuing idly, "Must be nice to travel, no worries except your open road bringing you someplace a bit too exciting. Nothing I can really recommend around here, this town is quite sleepy most of the time."

That was pure trash and she knew it, but Felicity was honestly curious about her guest- Morgan's Creek was dull, and a new person passing through was interesting. It would be a bit awkward to ask for tales, but then again spouting countrified ignorance might get the girl to debunk said, which would be interesting. Felicity didn't mind overmuch either way, there was nothing tangible to be gained from knowing more about her guest.

The humor of a story on the internet is in direct inverse proportion to how accurate the reporting is.
Lab Assistant
#74 Old 12th Aug 2008 at 12:12 PM
Default Stella & Gwen (+ Gwen's little sister Lilith) on the way to school
Quote: Originally posted by slytherin-girl
Stella had an intense dislike of school. She was 15 years old after all, in her opinion far too old to be going in the first place. She should be occupied with thoughts of marriage and a family, but there was certainly a lack of prospects for that in this town. School was a sort of necessary evil for her, something she had to do but had no intrest in. And her work most certainly showed it. Not the most apt pupil in the world, her mind was more occupied with thoughts of pretty dresses, like the new one she wore right now, than sums and grammar.

"At least" she thought as she walked down the streets to the schoolhouse, blonde locks held in place by a bow at the back of her head "This is my last year of school. I won't have to bore myself with it anymore". She smiled at the thought as she continued down the street, noticing Gwen walking ahead with her little sister.

"Good morning Gwen" she called, waving her free hand "Wait for me, we can walk together".


Gwen let go Lilith's hand and turned 'round. When she saw the general store owner's daughter, she had to smile and calmly say:
"Catch up, Stella. We're gonna be late..."

Stella was one of the few inhabitants of Morgan's Creek that was about her age and Gwen knew all of them. Not that was many to know: A few ordinary, boring children, two or three rebels and this Robbie she used to see often around the saloon (where girls like her weren't allowed) or the laundry. For him it was said that he is her half-brother and Gwen knew that had to be true. After all, she knew more about her father that she'd want to know. F**k, she hated Morgan! She'll be playing a good girl, but not for long, oh no, no longer that will be needed for her to find a way to steal her father's money and leave him to play with his own messes and deceptions. And every day she was closer. Ed Morgan, you better watch your back!

As Gwen watched Stella coming closer, she felt an extreme desire to have the childhood Stella had. She felt envy for those who grew side by side with loving parents and knew for sure their future won't be filled with a rich, old, ugly husband.
But now she was bonded to a normal small chat with Stella.
"How are you, Stella?"
Suprised by the plainess of her first question, she cleared her throat and more seriously continued without leting her answer right away as they walked towards the school;
"Did you hear about my father trying to marry me with a man twice my age?"
She supposed that everyone knew about the greediness of her father, but only few knew how bad it was really.

((OMG I'm so sorry, I don't know what obsessed me xD))
Scholar
#75 Old 12th Aug 2008 at 2:05 PM
(((OOC: She's the general store owner's daughter, not the baker's daughter :P)))

You can call me Robyn, tis my name after all
SixWordStories
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