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Thread: {M} 5 star desert (IC)

  1. #1
    Wolf of the Highlands
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    Western {M} 5 star desert (IC)

    A dry, dusty wind blew east over the road and through the streets of the small town of Gevan.
    Viner, one of the three moons hung next to the sun still well into the sky.
    cows grazed in a small farmer's field near by as men laughed uproariously in the local saloon, and women chattered as they walked home from the general store.
    Everyone kept an eye on the strangers that came to town. Only five of them came together, and two more came on their own. The white man with his wagon set near the center of town with his ointments and salves, and the red vulture stayed separate from the rest.




    Keematee wiped down the newly vacant table in the saloon as other patrons continued to laugh, drink, and play poker.
    It was a normal day except for the strangers that walked in. They were a rough bunch, with seemingly little respect.

    "Hey, beasty, another one!" one of them called. They weren't the only one to call her that, but she gritted her teeth all the same. It seemed few people had any real respect for her. Least of all this bunch.

    She got another bottle from the bar and unstopped it before poring him another shot.
    The man had already put down enough for a meal and 4 bottles. This was only his 3rd, and he was getting pretty drunk all the same.
    She had to dance away as he and another tried to get a little handsy. They laughed a bit at that.
    Stark, the name given to my ancestor for a feat of bravery. It means Strength, or Strong.
    The motto give: fortiorum fortia facta (made stronger and braver)

    I say, let us all be fortiorum fortia facta.

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  2. #2
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    Red was used to the side-eyes he got wherever he went. Folks weren’t kind to people like him, but he weren’t kind either, so it all evened out. His boots crunched on the dirt road as he strode toward the saloon. There was one thing on his mind. Well, two things, really. The first was a drink. Something he could distract himself with for a little while, while he rested his wings. The second was a man. A human man, born and bred a killer. Sam Bradley, the last of the Bradley brothers. Red was going to finish the job, just as soon as he could find the yellow-bellied snake. Hell, even calling him a snake was above Sam Bradley. Red had a good friend who was a snake.

    The floorboard creaked as he stepped into the saloon. He stood in the door for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkened room from the bright near-whiteness outside. When they did, he found everyone was looking at him. He couldn’t care less, though his right hand flexed above his six-shooter. He walked to the bar, finding an empty stool at the end. He slapped down two silver coins and ordered a glass of whiskey from the barmaid. As he sat, nursing his drink, he caught a man staring at him. No, not staring. Glaring. Red glared right back from under the brim of his hat.
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  3. #3
    Wolf of the Highlands
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    A half elf came and pored him his glass. She seemed to have a trained calm about her that was at the edge with the glares she caught between the two.

    Another dust worn group eyed him from a poker table as they continued to call and raise each other. Packing more heat than a wagon of deputies.
    Finally a guy payed enough attention to the game to slap down his cards with a self assured smile before one of his companions put down a better hand to a choir of near outrage from the rest as he scooped up the pot.

    A rather tan deputy with dark hair held in a braid, speaking of native decent, observed from a corner as he sipped his own drink. He looked ready to say something or jump in if something happened.

    The man who was glaring stubbornly looked away with an equally stubborn look on his face before gulping down the last of his glass.
    He gave a lightly slurred "Can I get another?" as he slowly picked some more coin out of his pockets.

    Finally the drunkest one at the poker table with the bottle in his hands.
    "Heeeeeeey, beastie." he slurred, and the whisky wafted from his mouth. "What's a bird like you... doin' in town? don't you have some flock to be flying with?" He laughed, thinking it was funny. His friends at the table gave some rough smiles, but didn't back him up.

    Keematee looked over at the joke, her ears twitching before laying back in a frustrated manor. But she continued to serve the other patrons. No respect.
    Stark, the name given to my ancestor for a feat of bravery. It means Strength, or Strong.
    The motto give: fortiorum fortia facta (made stronger and braver)

    I say, let us all be fortiorum fortia facta.

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  4. #4
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    The horses were a bit winded from their trip. Dr. Harmon made sure they were watered first, the slipped the feed bag over their heads.

    Something was going on in the saloon, a lot of coarse laughter. There were usually a few drunken idiots, it always amazed him how some of them had managed to live this long?

    He made sure the wagon door was latched well, some fool had gotten himself in a bad way poking around in there, opening a bottle he shouldn't have. Fortunately, the man was a known drunk so the stories he told weren't believed, and he was only a little drained from his ordeal.

    Something brought him here, and he wasn't going to learn what it was standing in the street. With a sigh, the albino wiped the dust off his glasses, then strode towards the saloon, nodding politely at the people who stood and stared as he went by.
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

  5. #5
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    Red looked over his shoulder at the man. Drunken, filthy, and ready for a fight. A bad combination on any day, but today was especially bad. He narrowed his eyes and turned back to his drink, ready to be finished and moving on once more. His wings shifted, blocking the man from Red’s peripheral. He drained the rest of his drink and turned to leave. The man, ornery and disgruntled, stood in his way, blocking the door. Red issued a sigh.

    “Did’ya want somethin’, mister?” His voice was deep and sonorous, though slightly raspy.

    “Sure did, chickenshit. What’cha doin’ here?” He snarled. He swayed on his feet slightly. In the corner, the deputy’s hand slowly moved toward his gun, unclipping the band that kept it secure in the holster.

    “Same as you. Gettin’ a drink. Or more than one, in your case.” Red was at ease, confident he could take this drunken saloon-goer if need be.

    “Naw, I mean in town. We don’t take well to strangers much.” He shoved a pointed finger into Red’s chest.

    “I was just leavin’.” Red replied cordially. “But if you insist on pressin’ the matter, I may have to stick around a bit. Give the coroner my signature an’ all.” The man took a step back, shocked at how calmly Red had threatened him.

    “Now if you think you can talk to me like that-“

    “I’ll talk to you any way I damn well please, seein’ as you seem to think the same. Now step off, wingless.” Red took a step forward to meet him. He glared at the man for a moment, then shouldered past him.
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  6. #6
    Wolf of the Highlands
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    It seemed everyone sober enough to notice anything had started to focus on the confrontation. Besides the two strangers, it was dead quiet.

    "Did you see what that flying rat did?" He asked insulted. He seemed about ready to run after the man.

    "Drop it Jerz," one of his traveling companions said, "come on. Let's finish our game and move on."

    "But that bast-" Jerz started.

    "We'll take care of it later." another snapped at him, "Besides, it was almost comical to see you put in your place like that.
    Everyone else around the table gave a light laugh.

    Keematee continued to stair out the door for a second before making a decision.
    She went over to the bar where Turk was wiping more glasses.
    "You ok if I get out a little early today?" He asked, "you seem to have everything covered."

    The big, leathery man sighed and looked over the saloon. "Yeah, I don't blame you. Especially in the hole you're in." He said, "Take your leave."

    And with that, Keematee gave a nod and quickened he step to get out the doors.
    "Hey, Mister." She called as she walked to reach him.
    Stark, the name given to my ancestor for a feat of bravery. It means Strength, or Strong.
    The motto give: fortiorum fortia facta (made stronger and braver)

    I say, let us all be fortiorum fortia facta.

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  7. #7
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    No shots... yet, at any rate.

    Dr. Harmon climbs the steps, keeping a wary eye on the saloon doors to avoid bumping into people. Fortunately, thanks to his great height, he could see past them to see who was coming out while still a step from the top, and could see Red closely followed by Keematee heading towards the door. He stepped to the side politely, giving them a pleasant nod.

    It was best to be pleasant until one had worn out their welcome - and then, of course, to have witnesses available to confirm self-defense.
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

  8. #8
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    Red looked over his shoulder at the coyote-woman. He stopped for a moment to let her catch up. He hoped this wouldn’t be long, as he wanted to be out of town as soon as possible.

    “Yeah?”
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  9. #9
    Wolf of the Highlands
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    She stopped as the man turned to look at her.
    "I was just... I was wondering if you could use a place to stay for the night," she said, "get off the road for a day to allow yourself some rest. My Pa owns a small ranch just South of here. Not many people go out of their way to bother us, and we could use another hand."

    She wasn't used to talking to strangers, and this vulture was a little imposing to say the least. It wasn't that hard to tell she was a little nervous.

    "Besides, those guys will be on their way soon enough as well." She said "They're strangers here, too, and it might help to be out of their way to make sure you're going in the opposite direction."

    She was just trying to be helpful to another beastman who seemed like he might be having a bit of a hard time. And it was about time to start rounding up the cattle for counting again.
    Stark, the name given to my ancestor for a feat of bravery. It means Strength, or Strong.
    The motto give: fortiorum fortia facta (made stronger and braver)

    I say, let us all be fortiorum fortia facta.

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  10. #10
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    Dr. Harmon's right eyebrow arched as he watched the scene playing out in front of him, but decided his need to quench his thirst took priority, so continued towards the saloon. He paused at the saloon door, peering into the shadowy room, then pushed his way in, offering a pleasant nod as he walked towards the bar.

    "Bartender, a beer please," he said a little hoarsely. "I need to wash out this trail dust."
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

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