[m] Steam Trains and Bad Days [Angelic and Wattz] [IC]

[Wattz]

Nobles. Nobles as far as the eye could see. Their golden pocket watches glittered, their rings flaunted the rarest of jewels, their sleekly tailored outfits smelled of victory! Yes, yes, these folks would do just fine for Byron Caldwell. His teeth flashed with delight as he peaked in through the first-class boxcar to witness the spectacle. This one, for sure, he would not fail. After all, he was a fine chap, right? He was bold, daring, strong-willed. He could do anything! Right?

Besides, actually sneaking onto the train had been the hardest part. Byron almost lost his foot as he latched onto the side as it chugged along. But all that was in the past. Only the future lay ahead of him now. First he did some arm raises, some leg stretches, some jumps, some running in place, just to get the juices flowing, to get himself pumped. There was nothing he couldn’t accomplish. There was nothing standing in his way!

“Alright, everyone!” Byron shouted the moment he threw the door open with a thud. Their gasps and screams were delightful, showing the mark of a true outlaw. “I want everyone down on the ground, purses out, wallets emptied! This is a robbery!” He had his shotgun in hand and pointed it at the nearest woman, who immediately began to shriek.

“Oh, sorry ma’am,” Byron said as he pointed the gun at her husband instead. “This is a robbery! The Whip Wielder’s here to take all your shit!”

“The what—“

“You heard me!” He pushed the gun closer to the man’s temple.

Thunk, thunk, thunk, the valuables began hitting the floor. Byron’s smile widened an extra foot.

[AngelicAsylum]

Nobles. Bloody nobles everywhere. The Raven sat at the dining car towards the back, glaring angrily at all the stuffy bad company sharing their scones and stiff drinks. He glared even harder at the poor folk who managed to scrape up enough coins for tea. This was the reason why he stayed in the luggage cars until it was time to do the heist; he couldn't stand staring at these nitwits.

Sneaking onto the train was simple, as usual. It was simply a matter of climbing the pipes and hanging on for dear life until he could find an open door into the luggage cars. No one ever checked back there, so he could literally lay around until the correct moment. To pass the time, he would sift through some suitcases for anything valuable, though he refused to touch any kind of luggage that seemed lower class. Indecent though he may be, he was no slob.

When it came time to enter the dining car, he managed to slip in without calling much attention to himself. Luckily after the revolution, wardrobe choices had grown more and more ridiculous, grown men even going so far as to wear gas masks to formal ceremonies. It was impossible to tell someone from another when everyone was wearing large goggles, eye-patches, and face masks. He was just another fool, driven by steam and cogs, not a care for the sad state of society.

With that in mind, he sat near the back, alone. With one swift motion he covered his face with a black handkerchief that he kept tied around his throat. In combination with his glasses, it would be impossible to see his face. Taking one last deep breath, the Raven stood and drew his pistol casually, as if he was simply handing out a business card. "Ladies and gentlemen!" he called out in a clear voice. "I am the Raven and I will be relieving you of all your money and jewelry!"

The first woman who screamed closest to him was the one he grabbed, holding the gun to her head with a controlled harshness. With his free hand, he tossed a sack to the center of the floor. "Unfortunately for this young lady, I'll just have to blow her brains out if you dare make a false move. Get away from the door and fill up the bag before I get angry."

They listened. Of course they did. He had been doing this for years now and had shed quite a bit of blood to give himself a reputation. "Now hand it to me." A trembling boy handed him the sack, which he grabbed as he tossed the woman away from him. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?" he asked sarcastically, taking a mock bow before running out of the car.

[Wattz]

The nobles visibly struggled against their ornate outfits, manly of the ladies having a hard time lying down in their massive wire frames. Sometimes Byron even caught sight of a few knickers, though he quickly averted his gaze. No need to be unseemly about it. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to ask for everyone to get down on the ground. But by the time he’d absconded with their valuables, he was already running out of room in his bag. Unfortunately, he’d bought a bag that was a good few sizes too small.

“Ladies, gentlemen! I thank you all for your business,” Byron said as he left, jingling the half-full bag as he opened the next cart. He continued to smile wide, throwing gold in his pockets, his shirt. He even started putting bracelets and bangles on his wrists, and took an old man’s top hat to place on his own head. It didn’t stay on well, though; his dreadlocks were in the way.

“Thaaaank you!” he’d say on occasion as he pried a ring off someone’s finger.

But just then the door opened up ahead. Byron stood up to face him, jingling with the bag at his hip and the jewels strewn about his person.

The man was dapper, well-dressed in a slick black suit. Blonde hair flowed out from under his hat, and his features were concealed by a large pair of goggles and a bandana. Overall he seemed quite small and vulnerable, despite the gun in his hand.

“Down on the ground!” Byron said as he raised his gun to the stranger. “Valuables out and you won’t get hurt!”

[AngelicAsylum]

The Raven stared at the man for a moment. "...Are you...commanding me to hand over my things...to you?" For a moment there was silence. Then, the smallest hint of laughter began to fill the car, until it became louder, and louder, until the outlaw was doubled over. It took several moments for him to regain logical thought and observe the situation.

The man seemed dirty and poor. His hair - what was his hair supposed to be doing anyway? It was atrocious. His clothes were ragged, and more importantly, he was holding what appeared to be the very valuables the Raven was just about to steal. And that - THAT - was going too far.

"Sir, I commend you for your bravery, but this is my train." He raised his cane to jab at the stranger's chest. One push of the button and he could have impaled him, but this was far too amusing to pass up. "As you can see, I've already taken care of most of the work. Why don't you just hand over that bag and disappear before I teach you a lesson in humility?"

[Wattz]

“Your train?” Byron tipped his head to the side, the stolen top hat falling right off. He raised an eyebrow, slightful lowered his gun, chewed his lip, until it all fell into place. He wanted to be offended, wanted to feel threatened by the cane thrown at his chest, but clearly there was no need for animosity. Finally, finally, he understood.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, you got it all wrong! I’m on your side, really! Oh, oh, I’m sorry, man!” he said as he dropped the shotgun, now holding it with one hand. The other arm waving to the side in a welcoming gesture. “Good to have another on my side—oops!”

There was a cry just below his foot; he’d accidentally stepped on a man’s face as he moved forward to shake the man’s hand.

“Sorry about that! Anyways!” Byron extended a hand towards the other. “Name’s Byron, The Whip Wielder! Nice to meet ya. Wanna give me a hand here with all this stuff?”

[AngelicAsylum]

The Raven just stared at this awful man with his stupid hat and ridiculous lopsided grin. Then his eyes moved down to the odd looking shotgun and the trampled man underneath the stranger's foot. Silently, with one smooth motion, he reached over to take the bag full of loot and went about his business.

That idiot. There were no "sides", no pitiful sense of comradeship between outlaws or anyone else really. It was just him against the world. People had more than proven that they were not to be trusted nor liked, and he knew in his heart that he was superior to them anyway. Especially to...that. The "whip-wielder"? Really?

Carrying the two bags of loot in one hand and the pistol in the other, he moved throughout the other cars and repeated the process with the lower classes. There was more harshness in his tone, and he worked faster than before, lest the other train passengers got any smart ideas and tried to come after him. For the most part, they were all cowering idiots, but every now and then someone tried to be a hero and got themselves stabbed.

[Wattz]

“Wonderful idea, my good man!” Byron beamed as the man picked up the bag. How wonderful, that he should have a partner in this. The other man was much quicker in cleaning people out, and after things had started falling out of his shirt, Byron settled with simply holding his gun to heads and telling them to keep down. Every once in a while Simon would stab a poor soul, making Byron grimace.

“Kind of doom and gloom now, isn’t he?” Byron mumbled to one of the men he was aiming at.

“Please… please, you don’t have to do this! I have a wife, children!”

“Oh don’t worry. Like I said, no harm will come to you! Just er… be clear of that guy,” he said with a thumb point towards his new partner in crime.

“Don’t you understand, you idiot?!” the man grumbled angrily under his breath, losing just enough patience to barely keep his words above a whisper. “That’s the bloody Raven! Simon De-“

“Well there’s no reason to be so rude.”

“How do you even hope to get off?!”

Byron tilted his head, thinking about how the train was moving. He wouldn’t know if the other man had a plan, certainly not. “You know, I never really thought about it!”

Again, things were making sense! This really would be much easier with two people involved. “Excuse me my good man,” Byron turned to the Raven, “I’ll return in a moment. I need to secure our… escape route.” He gave a hearty wink before making his way out the door. “I’m sure you can manage on your own, right?”

So Byron made his way to the front of the train, stepping over the victims as he did so. He ran into a few guards, but managed to smack them upside the head with either a powerful punch or a smack with the shotgun. Surprisingly this train had very poor security, what with the invention being so new. It took him a bit of time, but he finally made his way to the very front, where the driver stoked the coals.

“Arms up, sir! No harm will come to you if you just do as I say!”

The driver stuttered, mumbled, then suddenly lowered his arms back to his controls, forgetting his momentary lapse of judgment.

“I just need you to bring this train to a stop, sir!”

Two seconds away from his head being blown off, and the man immediately began to comply, or at least tried to. His nerves were so shaken he could hardly concentrate, and he thought maybe, just maybe if he worked slow enough…

Byron had forgotten that it takes at least two to drive a train.

[AngelicAsylum]

"I told you to stop mouthing off, you cheeky wench," he muttered as the woman fell to the ground. She was shrieking so much that her awful voice was grating on his nerves. At least the stab wound lent him some well deserved silence. The Raven wasn't sure if it was a fatal blow...but that didn't particularly matter to him, anyway. After all everyone knew better than to cross him.

“Excuse me my good man, I’ll return in a moment. I need to secure our… escape route. I’m sure you can manage on your own, right?”

His work was interrupted once again, however, by that loathsome man with the most ridiculous look on his face that the Raven ever had the misfortune of seeing. "Escape route?!" he shouted as Byron ran off. "What do you mean escape route?! I have an escape route and it doesn't involve you!!" By the time he was done yelling he was red cheeked and breathless. The rest of the car stared at them in awe, confusion blatant on their pale faces. "Oh shut up you worthless twits before I shoot every single one of you in the damned skull!" To prove his point, he stormed out of the passenger car with the intention of murdering the idiot with the dreadlocks.

This was just a disaster. Who did this man think he was, following him about like some starved puppy, yipping with that hideous voice in his ear at every turn?! It made him so angry he shot a man in the head just because he didn't like the awful hat he was wearing. Bad fashion should have been punishable by death anyway, though he wasn't sure anyone would survive in the detestable times he lived in.

Finally he caught up to Byron who was currently making a mess of himself with the conductor. "What are you doing?!" pistols forgotten, he practically hauled the loot into the corner, propelled by his oh so righteous anger. "You're - you're stopping the train?!"

When the Raven wasn't robbing trains, he was mapping out their routes, meticulously studying ever start and stop point during the journey, as well as memorizing the purpose of every car and crew member. In about five minutes they would reach a grassy and deserted strip of land near the forest just thirty minutes outside of the city. Around that time the locomotive would begin it slow, due to it's slightly uphill ascent and close proximity to the last stop, giving him the perfect opportunity to throw the goods overboard and then jump with little risk of injury. He had done it many times before, after all. Then, he could slip into the forest with his newly acquired loot and enter the city unnoticed.

That is, until this fool stepped in.

[Wattz]

“What are you doing?!” The man was red-faced and wild, as if his head would pop off from the pressure. ”You’re – you’re stopping the train?!”

Truth be told, Byron was a little hurt that he should be doubted.

“Of course I’m stopping the train! How the hell else are we gonna get off? The guards’ll wake up, we’ll get into town way too late-” Byron continued to grumble as he shoved the conductor aside. He then yanked a lever he assumed would bring the whole thing to a stop, but instead the train lurched with an angry groan. Sparks flew from the wheels, the force of the brake so strong the whole thing seemed just about off the tracks.

“Oh… that can’t be…” Byron recoiled, biting his lip again with deep though. “I mean, we should be stopped in no time!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Now it was the conductor’s turn to yell. He scrambled off the ground, obviously woozy from having hit his head, but still desperate to bring the train back to normality.

“It’s… it’s no good! I can’t… what did you do?!”

[AngelicAsylum]

This could not possibly be happening. It must have been some kind of strange, infuriating nightmare where he was perpetually plagued with some idiot who had no idea what he was doing or why he was doing it. "Have you even BEEN ON A TRAIN BEFORE?" he yelled, whacking the Conductor on the shoulder with his cane to show his displeasure.

Looking around as if to find a solution to his problem, he growled in frustration. It was no good. They were going to pass the jump off point in minutes, and the rest of the way would be rocky and lethal if he attempted to leave any later. It was either get off the train then or wait for it to crash. "I've had enough," he spat, turning away on his heels. "I'm jumping off this hell bound disaster before we get derailed."

He stormed out of the car and made his way down the train, pushing past the frantic and screaming passengers. What cowards. They disgusted him to the point that he was sneering underneath his handkerchief. Finally he made his way to the back of the train and threw the door open. It certainly was moving... fast. Simon was used to jumping but never at that speed. Taking a deep breath, he psyched himself up, remembering the tuck and roll technique he had practiced time and time again.