Tombstone(Open)

[PredatorX]

Nathan don´t like the looks of this Samuel Adams. Not one bit. His instincts and knowledge of peaple is what have kept him alive so far. More so than his skill with a six shooter. Danielle La Rue is a mystery as well. He watches her head up the stairs while his mind work hard to place where she fit in. After loosing track of her behind he turns to Samuel again. "If you excuse me, the lady requests my presence it seems."

He drinks up his whiskey and stands up. His eyes fixes on Samuel for just a moment and a small smile forms on his lips. He adjusts his holster, then turns away from the man. Hoping he won´t get shot in the back while doing so. It is a risk but not many wan´t to be known as one that shoots peaple in the back.

He walks up the stairs and turn left and stays at the second door. Still he tries to figure out who Danielle are. If he are invited for the reason he think he are. He have not met any whores who would invite a broke man for a time between the sheets. This was very intriguing and he was getting more and more curious. His thoughts travel to the man downstairs when he knocks at the door. Who are he, he thinks to himself. The uneasy feeling the man impose on Nathan do not fade and he have learnt long ago to trust his feelings.

 

[Screech]

James narrowed his eyes as one of the others came over to stand by him, acting all innocent at first.

"So Sammy boy, what brings you to a place like this? Iis it the townsfolk? The surroundings? Or just looking for a few people to lie your ass off to?"

"Hey, I'm just travelin' through. Need some way to make ma fortune out here in th' west."

James lowered his voice and he gripped his shot glass tighter. "An' frankly, sah, ah'm not much likin' yer' line o' questions"

 

[IXIHawkeyeIXI]

James narrowed his eyes as one of the others came over to stand by him, acting all innocent at first.

"So Sammy boy, what brings you to a place like this? Iis it the townsfolk? The surroundings? Or just looking for a few people to lie your ass off to?"

"Hey, I'm just travelin' through. Need some way to make ma fortune out here in th' west."

James lowered his voice and he gripped his shot glass tighter. "An' frankly, sah, ah'm not much likin' yer' line o' questions"

"Well, I'm sorry. I just don't much like hearin' people lie. See...it's a strange thing. I always have this habit of wanting people to tell the truth. What's so hard about that?"

Calmly, Allen ordered a drink, thanked the bartender and looked back to the other man.

"I mean really...is that such a crime? To want people to tell the truth? Now, sure, the man has a price on his head. Nowadays, who doesn't? I'm sure I'm worth some money to someone somewhere, dead or alive. I've killed enough people to warrant that. But just because someone's a wanted man don't mean they're a bad person and deserve it. Keep that in mind."

 

[Mystical Avalon]

She took him into her room. Hoping above hope he would remember her from the Outpast Saloon in Denver. She was younger then not as careworn.

She smiled her most winning smile and stepped to him. Choosing her words she spoke.

"If you dont remember me that would be okey. But, I do remember you Nathan Crowe. You asked for me so many times that few days in Denver. I could never forget you. Giving me the courage to stand up for myself. You own me nothing. I owe you more than you think"

She bowed her head hiding the blush that was creeping on her cheeks. The Outpast Saloon was the first place she had whored. Nathan had been her first customer. He had told her tales of the trail. He wooed her from day one. He also helped her leave that shithole and make a way here.

Silently she waited for him to reply. Listening intenly for any moition from downstairs. She would kill them if the tried to take him. That was a promise.

 

[PredatorX]

Nathan looked at her in surprise. He knew all along there was something with her. He just couldn´t place her. Not until she told him who she was. She was older and more confident now. When he saw her in Denver for the first time she was very nervous. He could not take his eyes of her. She had him transfixed. It was not only her good looks that had him trapped. It was a mix of things. Her innocence and loyality among other good traits she showed.

He wanted to help her and was very generous. When they where together he did what he could to get her to feel less like a whore. When his outlaw friends left Denver he stayed an additional few days, spending his share of their latest robbery on her.

He had often wondered how it turned out for her. But the thoughts of her had vanished over time when his main concern was the next robbery and to survive to see a new year. Now that he met her again he was not sure what to say. It was not often he lost his composure.

"I do remember you." He says with a low voice. "Did not expect to see you again. This place is much better than the place you used to work." He smiles slowly to her. "How have life treated you?"

 

[blackopal19]

Namid and the other horse theifs reached their camp in the still and dark of night. They had moved quicker than expected and had made much time. As soon as the boys who had been posted as scouts saw them, wild whoops and calls went out. Wives ran to greet their brave husbands on such a good raid. Tonight had meant that almost everyone in the tribe would have a horse now.

But Namid had no one but her family to greet her. Being the daughter of the chief, she had plenty of men after her, but her father had chosen none of them. Yet. Despite her fathers wishes, tonights raid had only added to the tales of her mischeif, and her bravery.

She slid off her horse, letting it free to mingle among the camp herd. The cowboys horse, however, she tied outside her families tipi. She wasn't familiar with the leather saddle, but she worked at the leather bindings untill it came off. She set it on the ground with intentions of looking through it in the morning.

She ran her hand over the horse. It was a gelding, so its value was brought down. But it had the good clean legs of a runner and a likeable personality. Giving it a pat she stepped inside her tipi despite the music and festivites around her, to catch a couple hours of sleep before the sun rose again.

 

[Screech]

"Well, I'm sorry. I just don't much like hearin' people lie. See...it's a strange thing. I always have this habit of wanting people to tell the truth. What's so hard about that? I mean really...is that such a crime? To want people to tell the truth? Now, sure, the man has a price on his head. Nowadays, who doesn't? I'm sure I'm worth some money to someone somewhere, dead or alive. I've killed enough people to warrant that. But just because someone's a wanted man don't mean they're a bad person and deserve it. Keep that in mind."

James scowled. "Th' truth is dangerous, an can get ya dead in no-time flat. Sometimes ya gotta lie teh stay alive."

He ordered another whiskey

"An don' ya go tellin' me how the law works! I know cos I used te uphold it! I've put a few varmits behind bars"

The whiskey arrived and James dook a big gulp from it.

"An' fer the record, I don't have a price on my head. Unless someone wants me assasinated"

 

[IXIHawkeyeIXI]

James scowled. "Th' truth is dangerous, an can get ya dead in no-time flat. Sometimes ya gotta lie teh stay alive."

He ordered another whiskey

"An don' ya go tellin' me how the law works! I know cos I used te uphold it! I've put a few varmits behind bars"

The whiskey arrived and James dook a big gulp from it.

"An' fer the record, I don't have a price on my head. Unless someone wants me assasinated"

Allen kept a smile on his face, even as this man scowled at him. "I've managed to stay alive for quite some time using the truth. Of course...I'm not a law man ....so I guess that just makes me a better person..."

He finished off his drink, smiled at the man, and put his glass down.

"Well...that's about all I've got the stomach for tonight, so have a pleasant night. It's been..****."

He threw a few dollars on the counter and looked to the man he had been speaking to. "Drinks are on me, thanks for the conversation."

Allen stood up, making his way to the door, deciding that he had better find a place to stay for the night. He passed the sheriff's building and then came to a stop as he stared at the building in between the sheriff's and the doctor's office. The sign on the front of the building stood out, he recognized the name. He stood there, staring at the building for a few moments.

 

[Screech]

James grunted. It had indeed been a long night, and he didn't much like the way the air was turning in the saloon. It was getting much too stuffy, and no doubt everyone had been glancing in his direction.

Standing up, he made his way out of the saloon and back to the hitching post with his horse still tied to it. No way he was going to pay a lowlife stablehand to look after his horse tonight. Most in this town would likley try to steal or sell it.

Untieing the reins, he moved round to the side and unbuckled the saddle and bags. Opeining one he pulled out a large blanket and threw it over his horse's back. The thinck blanket had kept it warm in the past, and would do so again. James himself had his jacket.

Taking his repeating rifle from one of his saddlebags, John settled down on the ground next to his horse, the rifle raised and ready. Most who saw him sleep never approached because he had developed a position of sleeping that made it look like he was still awake. He smiled remembering how this unnerved people so much...

 

[sharingfantasies]

Kate stretched, then rubbed her eyes with her fists like a small child. Yawning she glanced at the window where the sun was streaming through brightly. She had gone to bed late and with the middle of the night interruption she was still feeling tired. Pushing back the heavy patchwork quilt, a link to her mother's past, Kate stood up then jumped back onto the bed. The floor was COLD! Bending over the side of the bed, she located her slippers, then carefully slid her feet into them before grabbing up a robe to wrap up in. Shuffling to the corner screen, she took care of the necessary, then broke the thin layer of ice on the pitcher of water and washed her face.

With her senses now more awake, she shuffled into the next room. Her little place wasn't large but she had a separate bedroom, a combination living and cooking area that was large enough to feel comfortable. She heard a door slam below and knew that Joe Kennedy had come into the shop downstairs. He would get the Franklin stove going and begin setting the stories that Kate had written in the wee hours of the night. Kate started the fire in her cast iron stove and set water on to heat. Shuffling back to her bedroom she laid out her clothes for the day and brushed out her long hair, rebraiding it quickly. By the time she was done, the water was hot enough that she could pour some into the china washbowl and some into a cup for tea. The room was a little warmer now, so, while the tea steeped, she slid off her robe and nightgown and washed up. Feeling more awake and refreshed, she put on her unmentionables, which included a long john shirt over which she put her white button down blouse. Then sitting on the side of the bed, she slid her miner's pants up over her long legs. A pair of wool socks were pulled up onto her cold feet and then she stomped her feet into a pair of ladies's boots, cursing softly as she used the hook to button up the sides of each boot. Men seemed to create clothing for women that was impossibly ridiculous to put on or wear.

If Kate could get by with it, she would go around in pants and riding boots, but now that the town was growing, there was a group of "ladies" that, as a businessperson, Kate had to appease. But it was very hard to run or climb or jump in a skirt. And a good reporter went where the news was, however difficult it was to get to. So, over the pants she slid a black skirt that could easily be discarded if she needed to jump, run or climb. While there had been a few comments when Kate had suddenly appeared in her Levi's running after the sheriff who was in turn chasing someone else, the majority of the people in Tombstone recognized that if they wanted quality reporting to satisfy their curiousity, they would have to allow Kate some "editorial" freedom. But she tried to at least start the day dressed "appropriately". And then again, Kate mused, those same commenters also commented on the inappropriateness of a woman being the owner and editor of a newspaper, but the didn't comment loudly enough to lose their subscription.

Rinsing out her tea cup, Kate quickly made up the bed, and then headed down the backstairs to the shop. Greeting Joe, she picked up her reporter's notebook and used the small penknife to sharpen her lead pencil, then headed out the door for the saloon. Kate needed to satisfy her own curiousity to the shooting and the yelling that had gone on last night. Since a "lady" wasn't supposed to go into the saloon, Kate entered by the back door and headed for the bar. It wasn't super early but then it wasn't noon yet either, so there was only a couple of people in the place. Kate moved to the end of the bar and smiled at the man behind the counter. He grinned back, used to seeing her every morning, and set down the glass he had been drying off. Pouring two cups of coffee as he did about this time every morning, he carried them down to the end of the bar with a "Good morning". As they drank their coffee, he filled her in on the night's events. Smiling as he watched the crease in her forehead deepen as she took notes. They had been doing this routine every morning for a long, long time, but it still amused him how seriously Kate took the job. But he had to admit she did put out one fine newsheet, better written and more interesting than several he had seen back east.

 

[blackopal19]

Namid woke early the next morning not long after the sun had decided to show itself. This morning the camp was slow to start, due to the celebration last night. But even with that there were several families who had stirred the ashes of their fires to start the morning cooking.

Being a female, Namid had her own duties to help with. But they didn't take long and she soon had a skin of water warming for tea. The cowboy's horse was still tied where she left it. Soon the new horses would be seperated and claimed, and then once more turned loose among the camp horses.

Namid stretched and grinned as she waited for the water to boil. Yes, last night had been good.

 

[Mystical Avalon]

Nathan and Danielle had spent most of the night catching up. She found that his love making skills were still as equally demanding as before. She sought to watch him sleep as she crept out of bed. She wanted to get them some hot coffee before he awoke.

She could hear voices as she decended the stairs. Entering the saloon she saw the bartender and that Kate lady as always traipsing around inthe latest gossip and happenings around town. All she wanted was two cups of coffee. Pulling her coverlet about her she walked to the bar.

"Two cups please" she asked. She did not make much conversation with him or Kate. She knew the staring and the talking under thier breath. She was a whore and everyone knew it. What they failed to notice, no matter how greatly she tried to let it show, was that once upon a time she was a woman. A lady, a real person that is. They regarded her now with a somewhat detached aloofness. It hurt.

Listening for Nathan, she tried to hurry the bar keep.

"Its freezing please hurry with those cups!"

 

[sharingfantasies]

Kate was taking notes about the English gambler and the Indian raid, when one of the upstairs girls came down after coffee. Kate stopped talking and continued to write. She had no problem with the working girls, after all she was a working girl also, just in a different job. Kate knew how hard it was to survive, if her father hadn't taught her how to use the printing press, then after his death, she might have had to take that same road that falls to so many women in this world.

While she was willing to be friendly towards the girls, it seemed that they preferred to keep to themselves. The one or two times in the past that she had smiled or tried to say hello, she was rebuffed. Kate thought maybe the girls were so used to keeping their ranks closed, that she was, well not the enemy, but certainly not a part of their clique. It was hard sometimes being a woman in a man's job. The "society" ladies felt she should give up the paper and printing business to prove she was a lady. The other ladies in town that worked as laundresses or waitresses or even the Ladies' Apparel and Shoes seamstress were all married and went home to their families. And the girls that worked here at the saloon tended to turn their shoulders to her.

But, thought Kate as she watched the girl Danielle carry the two cups of coffee up the stairs carefully, she did have friends. She had grown up in a man's world and had always found talking about the price of cattle, the doings in Washington, or betting on whether the stage would be late or not, more interesting than sewing quilts and tea parties. It was just that sometimes, it would be nice to have a friend that was female that she could talk to about, well, female things. Since her mother had died when Kate was still young, Kate had never had that type of friend.

With a slight shrug at her thoughts, Kate closed her small notebook, thanked the bartender with a nickle for his beer and headed out the backdoor over to the livery stable to see if she could get any more details about the horse raid and whose horses had been taken.

 

[Screech]

James slowly and groggily woke up on the sidewalk. It had been a cold night again, and the morning was just as cold it seemed. Thankfully, he had grown somewhat used to the cold nights as he had been travelling ever since his daughter had been kidnapped. Stretching, James tried to work some life back into his limbs.

Turning his head, he saw his horse was asleep. Obviously the blanket had been enough to keep it warm through the night. That was good. James didn't fancy the idea of travelling around on foot. Standing up, he caughed a couple of times before spitting onto the ground.

Wrapping his jacket around himself once more, he walked down the sidewalk a few paces before re-entering the saloon. The barkeep was up, and so was the woman from the night before. She had given him an untrusting look last night. Perching himself on a barstool, James nodded towards the barkeep.

"Whiskey. And leave the bottle"

 

[Mystical Avalon]

The man from the night before walked in from the streets. Danielle looked him over and again. There was something about him that didnt fit to her and being Irish she had intuition. Ha! she thought some intuition! She pounded her hand on the bar.

"Please hurry its freezin down here" she said trying not to meet the watchful eyes of the parton lady and the man from outside.


How she longed to be upstairs cuddled up in her warm bed with Nathan once more.

"What in the world is that smell?" She asked looking around the room.

 

[poohlive]

A new Chapter in the old West

Bobby boy was on fire tonight. Nothing could stop him. Each card seemed destined to hit his hand, each pair caught a third set on the river, each draw came out good in the end.

Nothing could go wrong for young Bobby boy.

No one knew quite when he came in. Must have been earlier today, maybe yesterday. Might have been he just appeared in that chair he sat in, conjured up by lady luck herself in order to cheat the odds. Then he anted in, and never looked back.

That's the way it's always been for Bobby.

He told stories, brandish tales of his youth. Flagrant captures, near misses, gun fights and hooping and hollering all up and down the untamed west. All of it emphasized by hand gestures and different voices. He would ask some of the maids to play indians, as he showed them how he tore through their camp in the dead of night.

And in the end, each one of his opponents had a smile on their face. No money, no gold, nothing to call their own but a busted hand, yet they still left with a smile. See, between you and me, that's just how Bobby works. Takes their money and leaves them wanting more.

No one ever had a problem with Bobby, no one thought he cheated, no one complained when he won three, four hands in a row. They all laughed, smiled, shook their heads when they lost, and cheered when Bobby showed an incredible flush, or kings full.

Bobby could not lose. He must have made some sort of deal with the devil, the way he played.

Tombstone had a new resident, sitting here at the poker table... awaiting any challenger.