The Furry Forums
Creative Arts and Media => Roleplay => Serious RP => Topic started by: rookthebunwolf on April 08, 2013, 07:11:30 AM
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A tall stranger rode into town on a specked buckskin stallion, with a worn black saddle, and a saddleholster on each side, likely, one with a rifle one with a shotgun, but both covered so it cant be known. He was white furred and black haired, with a long wolf tail and rabbit ears, but it was hard to see anything else, he was dressed in a coal black oilskin duster, and equally black frilled chaps, covering his heavily worn jeans, he kept his head down, underneath a wide-brimmed black hat that curled slightly on both sides and had a soft sky-blue band around it. He stopped in front of the saloon and tied up his horse as he hopped down the duster got caught by the wind and flew up revealing a Colt single action army on his gun belt, and the silver spurs on his black boots jingled. "ill be back Hickory" he whispered and petted the horse before walking calmly into the saloon
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A coyote, dressed sharply in a black suit, hat, and tie (not unlike a businessman) looked up as the stranger walked into the saloon. He smirked as he raised a small glass cup to his mouth. As he drank, he glanced down at the bounty notice he had placed on the counter. Showing a look of disappointment, he set down his now-empty glass and turned toward the bartender.
"Another, kind sir!" he called.
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Billy Jango is alone leaning back lazily in a wooden chair in the corner of the saloon, resting his feet on an old poker table his ears twitch to the sounds of other people and a silent snoring sound is muffled out through the busy saloon, with his shot up old brown cowboy hat over his face sleeping contently a dirty brown fox with a black tipped tail, bares a bullet hole through his right ear and a small scar running across his snout, he has green eyes, and wears a simple brown cow leather vest with a long sleeve shirt underneath and rundown boots sporting chaps, covered in a poncho (think Clint Eastwood). His loaded rifle is at his side leaning against him, as along the barrel written in a very fancy cursive the name "Christina" and his trusty six shooter holstered under his arm. His arm swings down as an empty bottle of alcohol rolls away, having drank himself to sleep, a small golden star with a single bullet hole in it, is held in his other hand
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The black dressed man's spurs clanged as he walks over to the bar "tender, whiskey." he sits down on a stool next to the well dressed coyote and raises his head for the first time, he is free of any scars, a good sign that hes either new to the west, or a very quick draw.
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The coyote picked his head up, smiling as he turned to the man in black.
"A whiskey man, eh?" he said twirling his finger around the edge of the still-empty glass in front of him.
"I prefer the gin myself." The coyote leaned a bit closer to the man and whispered, "...though, truth be told I have had finer spirits."
He pompously chuckled to himself as he turned away from the stranger.
"Not to be rude, but I am under the suspicion that you aren't from around here. Tell me, what brings you to this cesspit of a town?"
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With a groan and big yawn Billy awakes sitting up rubbing his head and placing hat on the table, "Uhhh... Barkeep! another bottle!", waving his left arm up,
"I think you've had enough sir...",
"Hey! I know when I've had enough just serve the damn drink!", sitting up as his ear with a bullet hole flicks, "Besides I got the money and what do you care a profit is a profit!" crossing arms and slowly starting to sober up.
"Whatever, drink yourself to death fool." walking around and handing him his drink walks back and serves others.
"Heh, if only they knew...", popping bottle open takes a chug and sighs,
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Aditsan scowled at the small drink he was nursing... His third. His throat hurt a bit, and his head was slightly clouded, however he knew he disliked the new man when he came in, looked like another colonist, and Aditsan was not fond of colonists. His ears heard the sound of spurs and he mumbled something, probably negative, about the stranger. He then went back to his drink, putting a hand to his knife - just in case.
He was a slightly short, well muscled brown goat, with intelligent eyes and a face which looked like it was always serious, this feature accented by dark red stripes on his cheeks. His small, rough horns arced back, and a wooden headband, decorated with white and red feathers rested on his head. A heavy leather cloak covered his upper body, and most of his lower body, however some plain cloth trousers could be seen around his legs. Weaponwise, he had a bow over his shoulder and a quiver over the other, both visible, while a knife was hidden under the cloak. Finally, he had a large cloth and wood pack, decorated with feathers like his headband; it contained many useful items for tracking.
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the man nods "not much of a drinker, but i find whiskey has its uses" he rubs around the rim of the glass "you are right, im not from here. I was a cowpuncher down in Texas, but something, someone, brought me out here.." he looked over at the coyote "names Rook" Rook tips his hat "you dont look like the type to be drinking in a saloon, you look more like the man who owns a saloon." Rook glances around, seeing a lot of scowls "not a friendly place i can tell" he snorts and looks back down at his whiskey glass.
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The coyote smiled and bowed his head slightly.
"Indeed. Though it's always nice to meet someone in a town like this who ISN'T a complete barbarian."
He looked around the room, attempting to emphasize his point.
Noticing the goat, he condescendingly nodded his head and raised a glass in his direction.
The coyote suddenly jolted upright as if he had been poked with a needle.
"Forgive me for my rudeness, sir, for I have yet to properly introduce myself!"
He extended a hand for Rook to shake.
"My name is Peter, and like you, I am also not from around here."
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Aditsan resentfully, spat on the floor towards the fancy coyote. Oh, he believed he was so much better than Aditsan, he could probably not kill another animal even if he had a bow and knife! He finished his drink, and narrowed his eyes further, the red paint accenting his pure hate towards the two colonists. He grabbed his knife tighter, and looked around the room, wondering how many of the people here would be happy to see him dead. He slowly pulled out his knife, before tossing it in the air and catching it, staring at the rich coyote.
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Taking another swig of the bottle shakes head and looks at the star in his hand and sighs, "Sometimes I wonder what you would say if you were here still... *hic*", putting star in his pocket and standing up with a slow lean to the right and quickly standing back up, "Whoa...", grabbing and holstering his rifle on his back and stretches, "Time for *hic* some air..." adjusting his hat on his head, stumbling towards the door with a bottle smiles and exits the saloon only to trip and stand about out side on the patio squinting from the sunlight. "Damn it's bright..."
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"hello peter" rook nods and shakes his hand, then after seeing the indian toss his knife, he pulls the hammer back on his revolver, but leaves it in the holster, then turns to watch the rest of the saloon, and the drunk man leaving sloppily "whos on the poster?"
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"Oh this?"
Peter looked down at the notice.
"Why, it's my means of retirement!"
He pointed at the reward listed at the bottom.
"10,000 in paper notes. Whoever this..."
He squinted his eyes, trying to find the name of the outlaw.
"Chase Burton is... he certainly angered the wrong person... and I mean to capitalize upon that."
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Finding his way on the dirt rode sighs and finishes off the rest of the bottle and tossing it to the ground as it smashes against a rock, shuffling around from side to side stops and squints again looking at what looks like half a dozen guys coming fast by horse, "Hmmm... this should be interesting *hic*... guess I should stick around for the real fun! *hic*" shuffling over to a horse's water trough dips head in and out, "WOO!! that worked..." rubbing the water out of his face laughs and shakes most of it off. "Now where was I?", looking over down the road as they get closer, "Huh, bandits... always one to make a dramatic entrance."
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Aditsan sighed, spitting on the floor again, before walking out, glaring at anyone who looked at him for more than a split second. He shoved the doors open and paced out, greeted by a blast of sand to the face... At least the air didn't stink of colonist too much out here...
His keen ears picked up hoofbeats and he moved his head round, spotting the shady shapes of galloping horses and the dust cloud left in their wake. He coughed and looked for someplace to hide, just in case they were the agressive type. He spotted the drunk, and moved to an area where he could examine him easily.
As a precaution, he pulled out his bow, and notched an arrow into it, his nose perking up for unusual smells.
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Rooks rabbit ears perked at the sound of the group of horses trampling into town "that doesnt sound friendly. we might have to cut this conversation short peter" Rook walks over to the door of the saloon to get a look at whats happening, his whiskey completely untouched. He watched the bandits get closer
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Peter sighed as he picked up Rook's glass of whiskey.
"One should never leave such things unfinished." he mumbled to himself as he got up and left the counter.
He approached a dirty window near the entrance of the saloon and looked outside to see what was going on.
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With a sniffle and adjusting hate walks out to the open in the middle of the road, as the riders slow down and stand tall on their horses, an eerie silence fills the area to where only the howl of the wind is heard, "Howdy... ya'll look like shit." with a smile laughs,
One of the men hop off their horse and walks closer wearing a bandanna over his mouth making it hard to see his face, "Is your name Billy? Billy Jango?"
Crossing arms takes a stand as his tail sways about, "Yeah? who wants to know?"
"Heh, I figured you would be taller..."
"I get that a lot... Who are you? and what brings ya'll here?"
"We heard you have quiet the skill to find treasures buried by the old natives. and my name?"
Slowly removing his black hat and bandanna smiles, "Is Chase... Chase Burton, perhaps you may have heard of me?"
"Hmmm, doesn't really ring a bell, but sorry I ain't into errands anymore." turning around walks away, til the click of a revolver is heard and the pressure on the back of his head makes him stop, "We ain't really here to ask." Chase smiles,
"Must be a hell of a treasure, if you need me." Grins and snickers,
"Well, a couple friends of yours said you were the one to talk to, and here we are." keeping gun held close to his head, "Of course they were your friends... sorry, my associates are a bit trigger happy at times, but needed deaths in order to find the mother of all treasures... The Red Diamond..."
"That's just an old western's tale it doesn't even exist... unless..." his arms lower and laughs
"That's right we found it... wasn't easy but it was a steal, literally." popping neck snickers "But alas we find ourselves need your help sadly."
"And if I say no again? what happens? You shoot me and spend the rest of your life looking for it and never find it or we could discuss this like men." turning around with the revolver in his face grins, "So the way I see it... you need me alive more than dead, so drop the tough guy act, you gotta lousy poker face."
"So it seems... alright then, lets talk." holstering his gun walks off into the saloon, and Billy follows with the other riders around him,
"And to think I was gonna kick back today... hehe."
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Rook ducked out of view as soon as he heard the bandits name. "peter is going to regret telling me that bounty" he thinks to himself, and keeps his ears perked to hear the entire conversation, ready to follow the bandits to the end of the earth if need be
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Aditsan scowled once again, a facial expression which, to be honest, he probably used too much. He pulled the string of his bow back almos silently, listening to the conversation. As they went back in he lowered his bow, keeping hold of it though and grumbling "Looking for the secrets of my ancestors are they?" he looked at the Salon door. "Maybe they should meet a descendant first" he decided, pacing over, almost silently, to the door.
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The coyote was not able to see well through the filth on the window. As the blurry figures approached the door he took a step back from the entrance. His eyes widened as the man he had been looking for stepped into the saloon. Peter began to reach for the revolver he had concealed in his suit, but stopped as he noticed more people follow him into the tavern. Frustrated, he downed the glass of whiskey and thought to himself, *I need him alive. Now is not the time.*
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Rook quickly tried to stop the goat "you want him to not find the treasure, i want the bounty on his head, you hate me and i hate you for it, but lets come to an agreement here" Rook eyed the Indian then whispers quietly to him "if i take him in, your ancestors treasure remains hidden, but i don't value my odds of taking his whole gang on at once, so id need an Indian, a tracker and someone whose good and quiet if it needs to be. what do you say?"
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Walking in and being lead to a center table in the saloon as they scare off the people who were sitting there, Chase takes a seat and snaps finger for a drink, "Now then if we may talk business...",
Taking a seat across from him and reclining back in chair and sighs, "So you actually believe you found it?" is then forced to take the conversation seriously as one of his lackeys holds his gun up against his head, "Really? this again?"
"Forgive my followers, they tend to get impatient when it comes to money... So as we were saying." leaning back crosses arms and smiles. "So we heard you've been there... huh?"
"I don't know what you're talking about..." all of a sudden a taller thug swings with a left cross towards Billy's cheek that dazes him. Coughing and laughing, "Well! I see we are mild tempered..." rubbing jaw and shaking it off. "That sure jogged my memory a bit..."
"If I were you I would start talking, a couple of these men know you very well." with an evil grin tilts head towards the one who punched Billy, leaning in and removing his bandanna off his face to show a horrific round scar from a red hot frying pan, "A lot of them want you dead..."
"Aww, Gean Richards... I see you're as pretty as ever.", another left cross is dealt to his cheek, reeling back and sitting hunched forward starts to snicker, "I guess you haven't been having much luck with the ladies looking like shit!", laughs hysterically just to get punched in the gut, "EH! haha!! you have such soft hands." Looking up and smiles.
Gean raises hand only to have Chase stop him, "That will be quiet enough Gean..." looking back at Billy and grunts and backs away.
Coughing and sitting up holding stomach, "Hehe, as you were saying... I have been there only for a few days then I had to leave cause they didn't like my kind."
"We heard it was cause of another reason, got a bit friendly with the chiefs daughter?" with a laugh takes his drink and chugs it,
"Not like they didn't enjoy it...", sitting up takes a bottle that was left and takes a swig.
Resting his head on his hand smiles and chuckles, "They? my you are tenacious..."
"Meh, but yeah..."
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Aditsan enters the salon once again, bow drawn. He quickly aims it for the most important looking one. They guy doing the talking, that was probably him... "Why are you here?" he asks harshly, adjusting his aim slightly so he could be sure the arrow would hit. "Answer or I kill you" he adds simply.
Aditsan was known for his bluntness and willingness to kill at the slightest provacation, however Chase may not notice. Only fate will tell if he is lucky or unlucky because of it.
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Peter casually sauntered over toward the goat and put an arm around his back, inconspicuously pressing a knife against him.
"Oh come now, is there really a need for such savagery?"
He gave a disarming smile and turned to Chase.
"I do apologize if this brute has caused you any trouble!"
Turning back toward Aditsan, he said, "If you'll be so kind as to lower your weapon and come with me, I'd like to have a word with you."
Peter pressed the knife harder against the goat's back, indicating that he had little choice in the matter.
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Rooks sighs after being completely ignored by the goat. he walks out of the saloon and hops on his horse, then pulls the rifle from the holster, a heavy 30-30 saddle ring carbine, with a vernier sights, then runs to a safe distance away "lets just hope none of those thugs have a rifle themselves"
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Dust rose and swirled in small eddies around the hooves of the dapple-grey mare as it walked into the town. While a lone horseman was nothing strange, this one demanded at least some attention.
First, was the horse itself. It was a fairly common breed, normal of stature, its dappled grey and white hide glistening with sweat in the glow of the sun. But it's mane was tied back and plaited with copper rings and wooden beads, long white tail tied with the same thick metal ring. It walked with a confidence not seen in a horse that had been broken, its eyes still afire like that of a wild young stallion.
Second, was the baggage. A heavy leather saddle was straddled by two saddle bags, loose odds and ends, bits of material and so forth fluttering in the dust-laden wind. Several small boxes and crates hung from the saddle by rope, a cage on one side clattered with every step, a small bird sleeping with its head under its bright blue wing on the swinging perch within. The back of the saddle was laden with rolled cloth of every colour, deep red and rich purples, blues and crisp white linen, gold-embroidered fabrics and what looked like a rolled up tent with bundles of firewood. This horse was less a means of transport... More a home on legs.
Finally, and possibly the most striking, was the rider. A feline of grey and white fur, no more than twenty years of age and thick curves to her body. She sat side-saddle, one hand at the horses neck, the other lay on the bundles of cloth draped over the back of the saddle. Her dress bore the same fashion of the baggage, that of a traditional European Gypsy. A white linen practical shirt, wide leather belt around her waist and a red flowing skirt embroidered with gold. Dark hair covered with a bandanna of the same dark red and tied into twin pigtails over her shoulders, rings on her fingers and beads in her hair.
She rode with one knee-length boot in the stirrup and, most incongruous to her vulnerable appearances, seemed to carry no weapons visible on her person. Her bright blue eyes surveyed the town as she and her mount walked down the dusty streets and her gaze alighted on the saloon ahead, as what looked like a rabbit strode to their horse and pulled out a rifle. She gave her horse an encouraging pat on the neck, stirring him on towards the saloon.
((Couldn't find an OOC or anything, I assume therefore this is just a 'join-whenever-you-want' deal? If it isn't just tell me and I will skedaddle out of here :) ))
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Aditsan glared with a white hot fury at Peter, it was almost as if his eyes were containing an internal fire. That, of course, died somewhat when he felt the knife on his back. He could feel it even through the leather cloak and his fur, and didn't like it at all, it radiated malice, and the owner seemed to radiate smugness. How much he wanted to see that same face Peter was holding with one to three arrows sticking out of it. That would make his day it would.
He snarled quietly as he was called a savage, an insult he recieved a lot. He was still irked by it however, especially from this fancily dressed slime of a fur. Brute also invoked annoyance on his part, and his mind began forging fantasies of Peter, many of which involved arrows and other sharp objects. "You do not yet know, how much I hate you colonists" he murmered, slurring the words together in an incomprehendable manner, so that Peter couldn't understand.
He sighed angrily as Peter asked him to come outside, his bow was a useless weapon in close combat, so he was in a pretty powerless position here. He lowers his bow, firing a look of burning venom at everyone, no exceptions, in the saloon. Putting his bow over his shoulder again, he scowls at Peter once more. "Fine, I will go out" he states, still holding onto the arrow. Oh yes, he was sure that a comfy-living rich-man like Peter had never fought a skilled native hunter like him before in close combat. He just had to wait until he was outside.
(OOC: By the way Katka, this is a join whenever deal, you're fine c: )
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As Peter walked toward the exit (leading Aditsan in front of him with a knife still at his back) he quietly whispered to the goat,
"I am truly sorry about this, but you must understand what I have been through to find this man."
He looked back to see if anyone had heard him, though it seemed like they had returned their focus to the conversation at hand.
"You have spirit, and I respect that. But there is a time and place for everything, and now certainly isn't the time."
He walks the goat through the doors of the saloon, stepping outside into the sunlight.
"Honestly, do you think you could have defeated all those armed ruffians alone with that flimsy weapon of yours? Don't be a fool."
Peter sighed and leaned closer, now speaking directly into Aditsan's ear.
"Look, I'm going to lower the knife now. There is no need for violence, so please for both our sake let's keep this civilized. I just want to talk."
He slowly starts to lower the knife from the goat's back...
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Chase nods his head watching the trio walk outside and sighs, "Kinda surprised they let their kind in here... Hehe, profit is a profit I suppose." leaning forward with elbows on the table and head in hands grins, "So back to business?"
Sitting up and coughing, "I'm gonna need proof of this... other wise how do I know your not some random bunch of money grubbing bandits?", looking up at the ceiling sighs and yawns,
"Does this Answer your questions?" reaching into his pocket pulls out a folded up paper that has been worn out to looking the color yellow,
"Huh!" unfolding the paper examines it and nods head, "So I see you can't get to the place let alone get past the traps and dangers? Figures no brains between the lot of them." snickers for a few seconds before getting socked across the right cheek, coughing and spitting a tooth on the ground, "That sobered me up... a bit."
"You really don't care if you die or not?" tilting head smiles and glances out the saloon doors, "Sigh, if it will make you feel better you can come back later after some thought?" taking a drink from a bottle sighs and tips hats.
"I was actually gonna say I'm in... but on one condition..." lifting head with a bit of blood falling at the corners of his mouth, "only me, you and three of your whipped dogs can go." upon saying the thugs start getting pissed,
Chase raises his hand and they back off, "Why should I agree to that?" raising a brow is interested and thinks,
"Well, counting me we have about seven going... it might be smarter dropping the number by... two to avoid suspicions." rubbing shoulder and yawns "So the two big ones? gotta go..."
"Easier said than done... not even I could tell them to leave... unless other means are brought to order." standing up from the table walks over taking the paper, walking along to the saloon doors and whistles, "Your gonna have to take that up with them..." an evil grin spreads across his face as the two goons beating up Billy pick him up and charge out into the road tossing him out into the open, stripping him of his weapons.
After the tumble rolls over to his side, slowly getting on hands and knees coughs then stands back up breathing hard, "Alright... come on pancake face! Show me what you really got!", kicking up dirt behind him clinches fists and takes a stand,
As the two larger men stand fast and pop knuckles, "It's been a long time, this time I wont hold back!"
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Aditsan waited till he was brought outside, only half listening to Peter. He sighed when peter explained to him about the odds "Simple hunting" he explained "You kill the leader and the rest are weaker, you probably haven't seen me with a bow either" he adds. He decides not to attack Peter after all, he hated the man, but he couldn't see much point in it. "What is important about that man?" he asked, twirling the arrow in his hand "Why not just let me kill him, his friends kill me and be done with it?". He thinks for a moment why he would do that, his eyes wandering over the horse and Gypsy temorarily, distracting him slightly.
The rapidly opening doors and Billy Jango being thrown out brought him back to his senses. He looked at the two men coming out after him, evidently with violent intentions. He clutched the arrow tightern as well as lowering the bow off his shoulder, however made no attempt to attack the large men or even gain their attention. He sighed, wondering why the colonists were all so agressive towards each other, Native tribes fought, yes, but there were very few small disputes such as this withtin tribes, this was an anarchy...
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Peter glanced at the fighting only for a second before turning back to Aditsan.
"Profit, my friend! There's a large sum of money available to the one who brings him to Blackwood Lake alive."
He paused for a second as the fighting once again drew his attention.
"I don't know about your financial situation, but I could use that money. I'm not as wealthy a man as I may appear."
His expression turned very serious, something not entirely expected.
"My proposition is this: if you assist me in bringing Chase Burton to Blackwood alive I'll split the reward with you evenly. We have a common enemy that we both can benefit from by bringing him to justice."
"Either way please know this: if you lay a hand on that man, or harm him in any way, I will kill you without hesitation."
"And I would so hate to do that..."
Peter smiles and extends a hand out for the goat to shake.
"So what do you say, partner?"
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Rook snarls to himself as he watched the indian take, or at least hear out peter, after entirely ignoring him. Preferring not to get into a mess he couldn't stop himself, he sits back and waits for a better opportunity to strike., aiming down the sights just in case, he watches intently, at the thugs, peter and the indian.
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The gypsy girl sighed as she approached the saloon, kicking one foot back and forth in the stirrup lazily, the dust kicked up around her horse's hooves in a cloud as it walked. She grinned, surveying the scene unfolding outside the saloon and caught the eye of the goat momentarily as he stared her way.
As the horse drew nearer to Rook the feline dismounted, sliding off the saddle to the ground with a crunch of her boots in the dust. She continued to walk purposefully towards the saloon, passing Rook with the slightest glance shot his way, bright blue eyes glinting in the sun. Her horse walked alongside her, no reigns to lead, the mare simply walked as though she had an unspoken agreement with her owner, the baggage swinging slightly with every step and that cage rattling and clanking. The bird inside had woken up, chirping and flitting back and forth between the bars. The feline smiled slightly as she walked with her hands behind her back past Rook, boots kicking up dust and tail flicking.
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Aditsan rolled his eyes at Peter "Typical" he though "Colonists are always into things they can get money from...". He pauses, listening to the proposition "I have little need for your money myself, however I'm sure other natives need money, and I don't want him uprooting the secrets of out ancestors...". He transferred his bow to the same hand the arrow was in and shook the hand, smirking slightly at the coyote's last comment "Good luck" he mused, breaking off the handshake.
His face turned somewhat more serious again as he glanced at the thugs, aiming his bow and notching an arrow "Colonist, are those two men valubelin any way, for I hate the large stupid ones the most" He grins "That, and all of you colonists angered me enough in the saloon that killing one of you rich idiots would be most satisfying..." He let out a breif chuckle, before aiming back down his bow, scowling "So, what will it be?" he asks.
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Chase walking past everyone near the door with a smile "This should be entertaining...", taking a seat on the wooden stairs of the porch in front of the saloon, "Or at least pass the time...", being handed Billy's weapons,
The larger of the two thugs charges with arms spread open for a tackle, "This time your going down!", Billy sways to the side and breaths out slowly, "That's what you think..." Billy's fox tail swishes about and taking a knee quickly dives forward shoulder ramming into the thugs knee cap, with the loud snap of his leg he falls over to the side grabbing his leg thriving around in pain, Billy rolling over and getting up runs over a stomps on the thugs head with his right boot, as the thug stops moving and dies from his skull crushed between the hard ground and his boot, Billy stands breathing hard wipes blood form his mouth smiles, "Well? You gonna come at me?! Fine! I'll make the first move!!", taking off in a sprint, growls sounding like the native.
"Hmmm... very interesting, he fights like one of those savages... Brutal and tactical... like the devil guides him." Chase sits up interested in the fight now, smiles watching, "Hehe, this should be good."
The lone thug takes a step back surprised at how the other guy went down, "What the hell are you!?", taking a stand not sure what to expect, Billy takes a slide between his legs as the thug reaches down grabbing hold of his poncho, ripping in off, Billy then hops up onto the thugs back choking him, as the thug flails about trying to take him off his back, "What's wrong?! You were so happy to kill me!", the thugs starts choking and elbows Billy in the ribs eventually reaching up throws him to the ground with a thud, raising his foot up goes for a stomp but Billy rolls out of the way turning his body kicks at his exposed knee making him take a knee, getting up quickly socks him in the jaw swinging back hits him in the throat grabbing hold of his head kicks him with his knee sending him on his back.
"Bravo Mr. Jango... bravo..." clapping his hands in enjoyment of the violence,
Billy glances up for a few seconds and back down, taking a few steps over the downed thug presses heel of his boot against his throat, as he flails about trying to push his heel off choking, "All you bandits are the same... no purpose... no honor...", pressing harder as the thugs struggles to breath, "No ties... no rules... no mercy... all pleasure and business...", leans down over the downed thug creeping an evil smile himself, "Isn't that right... Gean?!", Holds him down and hesitates taking a step back.
Chase laughs not even caring about his followers since they were his strongest, "Well? Aren't you going to finish him?" standing up with his hands behind his back smiles. "What's the matter..." as his words slip from his mouth almost like a whisper, cold, and dark.
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Suddenly, a massive hole is left in the bandit's head. The perpetrator is standing in the shadows, reloading the massive pistol which he had used to shoot the bandit. "Well, isn't this interesting! Why don't i join in the fun as well?" Laughing, the man stepped out of the shadows into the light. He was wearing blue sweatpants held up with a white belt that had dark blue/ purple fur around the rim. Around one arm was a manacle attached to a thick, iron chain that had obviously been broken. His red eyes blazing and a bloodthirsty grin on his face, he speaks to the fox that had been standing over the bandit. "I hope you don't mind my interference in the fight. I simply couldn't restrain myself, after watching you fight. My name is Varn. What's yours?"