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 Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 1/5, Conditions: "Boss, boss!" Came a harsh sounding voice out of the swimming darkness that was the blackout sleep I had let overtake me last night, and I jerked, reflexively, as I opened one eye and immediately regretted it, Garcia there, too close, shaking me awake. "Madre de Dios, Garcia, get your hands offa me!" I slurred as I pushed him off my shoulder as I heard the empty tequila bottle drop onto the ground out of my lap and crash on the ground. My head throbbed and my mouth felt like cotton. "You think the first thing I want to see the morning after drinking is your ugly face?" I staggered out of my chair at the table in the room where I had passed out. I was...pretty sure it was the room I was staying in. gently caress. "What do you want anyway?" "He did it boss, like he said he was going to. Even after you told him not to!" I stared blankly at him a second, then I fumbled for the flask I kept in my vest pocket and took a swig. "Calm down Garcia, who did what? What are you talking about?" "That cabrone Julius, he put nine slugs into O'Donnell!" poo poo. It was coming back to me now. Last night. The banker, Julius Whithouse, at the Saloon. We had...gotten to talking. He mentioned that a shipment of gold was getting packed away on the rail once it got done (which was soon), but only after a few shots of the Worm, and that happened only because he was bemoaning Sean O'Donnell getting awful friendly with his wife. He had mentioned something about taking care of the problem, and I tried to tell him not to. I thought we had worked out a deal, me and Whithouse - he'd get me in to take a look at all that pretty lucre before it got packed away, and in exchange I'd take O'Donnell out of town with us when we left...and make sure he wouldn't be coming back. But that pendejo couldn't keep it together for one maldito night! I kicked over the table with an angry noise, and Garcia flinched back, smart enough to think I might take it out on his hide for waking me up. "gently caress! Garcia...get Catherine and Ramirez up, we're going to track Whithouse down and have a few words with him." He scurried off, smart enough not to ask any further questions, too. I just massaged my temples and sat on the edge of the bed, thinking about where he might've run off to, trying to massage out all the hungover bits out and think about if he might've mentioned where he'd gone. Trying to gaze to get it out of the way (stupid Dark highlight muttermutter) 2d6-1: 6 [2d6=6, 1] Nope. Marking Xp quote:Name: Serena Rosita Lupe Ortega LifeGetsWorser fucked around with this message at 16:02 on Jul 19, 2015 |
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Jun 16, 2015 17:56
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 1/5, Conditions: I was still nursing that hangover and I hadn't come up with anything, and by the time Catherine got herself ready she was all dolled up for a funeral. "Ai, mios dios..." I groaned, as the boys looked at me. "Fine, we'll go to the damnable funeral, but don't even think about putting me in a dress for it!" No one suggested it, but they were thinking it, I could tell... We mostly hung out in the back, there, letting the rest of the townfolk go about offering their condolences and trying to seem sad about someone nobody liked. Wonder if I'd end up with a funeral like this? Nah, mine'd have to be bigger, with a proper party, plenty of celebration, and at least two or three pretty young things throwing themselves on my coffin. If I had my way and my reputation got as big as I wanted it, anyway. Whithouse, however, saved me the trouble of having to find him, talking to that...well, that dead girl, anyway. I had been pretty reluctant to believe a dead person could be walking around but well, Pollyanna there was for sure one of 'em. We'd just come in town, were supposed to get a hand off from the dumb pendejo who shot her, but clearly he botched that job and wasn't about to get anything for a dead hostage, so we got him when he left town. Couldn't have John Law catching up to him and spilling the bees on who had been employing him, after all. So imagine my surprise when we came back to town and there was Pollyanna all wandering around like she got lucky and got away. She didn't though, I've seen her body. Hell, Ramirez and Garcia buried it! So it shouldn't come as a surprise that Ramirez was positioning himself on the other side of Whithouse, away from the dead girl. Catherine had no compunctions though and was a bit closer to her than even I'd be comfortable with. Garcia, well, as always the ugly bastard wanted to come up behind them. Which left me to confront him face to face, of course. Gracias, friends...hope you don't want equal cuts of this job. "Senor Julius, I am so glad I found you!" I say almost cheerfully (but not too cheerfully it is a funeral after all) as I approach, chewing on a toothpick. "I didn't know if you'd make it out this morning, after the night we had." I force a laugh and put an arm around his shoulder. "Say, did you want to go over those loan numbers with me? I'm pretty sure I want to get moving on buying that ranch as soon as I can, you know what I mean amigo? I'd be up for heading to the bank for a quick chat right now." He'd better. My smile wasn't reaching my eyes, which were boring directly into his. My other hand was on my hip, which was, of course, right next to my gun belt. Coincidence, surely. Rolling to Manipulate Whithouse 2d6+1: 8 [2d6=6, 1] Orokos continues to throw ones at me. So what will it take to get him to come off with me and discuss things?
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Jun 17, 2015 19:45
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 1/5, Conditions: Any time anybody ever said such a thing to me, things definitely did not work out 'just fine'. Generally it meant one of my men was going to end up shot, or I was going to lose out on a big score, or I was going to have to burn down a few buildings to get out. Still, the only sign of my displeasure was my spitting out my toothpick, I still smiled sweetly at the teller. "Well, golly-gee Mister Whithouse, I suppose my friends can wait outside fer us, if you think that's best!" I do my best impression of a clueless American belle (like Pollyanna) - I hated being told how things were going to work. I was the one who did the telling. Whithouse best remember that. "But shucks, I sure would like to make sure everythin's in order jus' as soon as I ken on account o' that big ol' ruckus last night." I drop the fake accent - Americans all sounded like idiots. "Comprende?" I pause, my smile dropping completely. "Vaminos, I say." Serena will agree in a belligerent and sarcastic manner because she's Serena
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Jun 18, 2015 14:53
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 2/5, Conditions: I grip my six-shooter's handle for a moment as he points out it'll be Wednesday night that the job can finally go down, but I let go and roll my eyes as I speak. "Which gives you four days to not get fingered, senor Julius. You couldn't have waited until Thursday morning to take care of your problems? Or maybe just let us deal with the issue for you like we had AGREED UPON!?" I shout in his face. gently caress, men were stupid irrational things. American men especially. I jab my finger into his chest forcefully and growl. "Your drunken sense of honor assuaged now, cabrone?! You think you won't sweat for the next four days? You think your little esposa back home ain't going to be tempted to weep at her amante's funeral, huh?" I huff and give him space for the moment. "I swear to God, you get found out what you did you best pray that whoever uncovers it kills you dead because if this blows up and I get to you? You ain't going to enjoy what'll happen to you, comprende?!" I took another swig from my flask and glared at him. "And I would strongly recommend you think twice about trying to tattle on me, because you best believe I'll be keeping at least one pair of eyes on you at all times from here until we've concluded our business, ok?" I let my cheshire smile slip back on my face. I knew that was always scarier than my shouting, and it was especially scary after I had shouted. Judging by the state of him, wide eyed and colorless, I could tell it worked. Rolling to Shut Julius Down 2d6+1: 11 [2d6=4, 6] I'll take a String on him since he doesn't have any strings on me. And mark xp for rolling Cold "I'd recommend you sort yourself out before you get back out there. And don't draw any more attention to yourself by harassing your clientele at a funeral, okay?" My voice was sweet again, but he knew it was an act. Good. Put the fear into him, now he wouldn't make any more mistakes. I turned and left the bank, with a sigh. The mistake he had made better not come back to bite me.
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Jun 19, 2015 17:12
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 2/5, Conditions: I was just about to go yell at my horrible slacking gang when I heard a voice behind me, feminine and purring. "Oh, Senorita Ortega, you surely do fill out those chaps nicely, but here I thought I'd finally catch you in a dress!" Followed by some laughter. I cringed, both at the butchering of Spanish (she pronounced it Senior eata) and by my immediate recognition of who the voice belonged to: Jemma Ross. One of Bella's girls, and one who, for whatever reason, had taken it upon herself to flatter and flirt with me whenever she got the chance. "Miss Jemma..." I greeted her wearily as I turned to face her, almost getting a face-full of cleavage as she hugged me in greeting, before I pushed her off. Dios mio I had no idea she was so close! "...careful not to sneak up on people! A lot of us are armed, comprende!?" I rolled my eyes and took a step back. Look, it wasn't that Jemma wasn't a pretty girl, she was, curled blonde locks and deep green eyes and everything. But I wasn't into that sort of thing, at all, which either meant she was trying to get me riled up which meant she was crazy or stupid or both, or she was determined to change my mind - either made me kind of wary. The worst part is I couldn't just scare her off, Bella was paying me and mine to watch out for her girls, Jemma included. And I know Ramirez liked her plenty, not that I wanted to think about that. "Oh, next time we'll get her in a dress for sure!" Came another voice. Catherine's, as she jokingly linked her arm with mine and grinned up at me. Catherine, really all of them, knew Jemma was not getting the hint, and Catherine relished in torturing me. I take it back, this was the worst thing about Jemma. I was cursed. I fixed Catherine with a withering glance and her grin slowly disappeared, catching the hint that she was approaching the line. Jemma laughed again. "Oh you two will simply make me blush, I swear." She said and fanned herself. "But while I've got your attention, I wonder if I can beg you a favor Senorita Ortega?" She purred and batted her eyelashes at me. I just stared. Normally I let people call me Serena or I made my enemies call me 'La Furia', in hushed whispers or screams of terror, preferably. But I had made no effort to correct Jemma on my name and thankfully not even Catherine was so stupid to try and do it herself. "...what do you want, Jemma?" I asked as gruffly as I could. Thankfully the hangover kept the growl in my voice. "Well I think someone was tryin' ta break into my room last night while I slept! With all the horrible things going on I wouldn't want to be this horrible murderer's next victim!" She feigned fainting. I rolled my eyes again. Whenever she had a problem with her room she always came to me...and I always sent one of the boys to stay away from the tart. "Anyway, I was wondering, since you're so savvy and worldly, if you could take a look at my lock and make sure it's, well, locked." "What makes you think there's going to be another murder?" I asked, completely ignoring her request and scanning the crowd for anyone or anything that could get me out of this conversation. "These things are never clean Senorita Ortega, I am sure you know. Now c'mon, it'll just take a minute!" She grabbed my other arm and started pulling. I growled. Catherine tried to squirm away but I clung tightly to her. Hopefully she'd be enough of a buffer. If I was going to get dragged off to this drat busywork at the very least I was going to make sure it really did just take a minute. LifeGetsWorser fucked around with this message at 02:27 on Jun 21, 2015 |
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Jun 21, 2015 01:34
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 2/5, Conditions: I put the palm of my hand over my face and silently scream into it so no one can see. Wednesday couldn't come soon enough, then I could...we could...vaminos out of this one horse town. Shrugging my way out of Jemma's clutches I wheel to face her. "Ok ok, I'll get Garcia to keep watch on your door tonight. He's a real stalwart, he won't let any cabrone get in here to harass you." I would've preferred Garcia kept an eye on Whithouse tonight but I suppose I could do that myself. Which reminded me. "Mierda! Catherine, do a couple things for me okay?" I pull her out of the room, out of Jemma's earshot. "First of all, get Garcia up here. His ugly mug'll scare off anybody tryin' to mess with Miss Jemma. Second, I need you to keep eyes on Whithouse until I get down there to do it myself. Can't let him think he can go off half-cocked on his own anymore. So make sure he doesn't get into trouble." That done, I parked myself against the doorframe as Catherine went off to do as I asked. "Senorita Ortega..." comes Jemma's voice. "Aren't you going to keep me company?" I push my head into the wall and groan under my breath. "Si, Miss Jemma, come downstairs, let's have a drink." At least both of our tabs were comped, and it was out in the open, so it was better than...ugh...being alone with her in her room.
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Jun 21, 2015 06:33
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 2/5, Conditions: Jemma scurries out after me, and as I head down into the seating area, I spy that Camime girl waving me over. Today was shaping up to be a real mess. First Whithouse loses his cool, then Jemma starts in on her unnatural attraction again, and now I've got Serendipity's own little periodista here to bother me. Still, I gave her a small smile, no reason to let her think there was anything out of the ordinary going on here. Maple can have a string "Senorita Maple, good morning." I said as I turned around to grab a chair to bring to her table. I sat, and then Jemma sat, interposing herself between Maple and myself. Ai caramba, this girl was going to be the death of me. But at least she had brought a couple of whiskeys from the bar. I sipped. "There are some days that you need a pick me up first thing, you know?" I responded to her comment about the funeral. "Quite a shame about what happened to to the O'Donnell chico, no?"
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Jun 21, 2015 16:34
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 2/5, Conditions: "Yeah, might as well keep an eye on his esposa as well, have Ramirez do it until I get down there, then you can take over." I accept Catherine's recommendation of events. This watchdog basura was getting to be too much for me. "And...hurry back will you?" I urge her plaintively as she heads out. However, that was about ten minutes ago and still no sign of Garcia here yet. Which meant I was stuck here with Jemma AND Maple, here in the third circle of the Inferno. Jemma suggested another round and I mutely nodded, then glanced at Maple across the table. "So...what's the story then? You're never not scribbling in that little diary of yours, taking notes, so I gotta assume noting here's off the record, si? So what're you sniffing around here for? You think you'll catch something scandalous happening? Because I have got to tell you miss Camime, you are looking in the wrong place if you are." As Jemma gets up to get the other drinks I lean in a bit closer and grin mirthlessly. "Think you'd probably have better luck elsewhere. I suggest you start your search over." At least one of these people needed to leave and I couldn't get rid of Jemma, sadly. Not yet. Which meant I'd be much happier if Maple got gone. Shutting Down Maple. 2d6+1: 9 [2d6=2, 6] Going to trade Conditions with her. Giving her 'Nosy'
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Jun 22, 2015 17:12
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 2/5, Conditions: Hiding Something "Don't we all, chica?" I shoot back, maybe more defensive-sounding than I intended. This pushy little rag-writing gossip hound was going to front at me? Maybe she hasn't heard of me, maybe she has, either way she was making a bad, bad mistake, but I needed to keep my head down until Wednesday evening. "Since you aren't picking up subtle hints, I'll be more clear;" I stated. "Do yourself a favor and get lost. You don't want the trouble you're sniffing after, comprende?" That was two warnings, one was even clear as could be, I assumed. If she didn't get the hint now it wasn't anybody's fault but hers' what happened to her. I stared, waiting for her to make a move. One of my hands rested on my leg, near my six-shooter's grip. I was a quick draw - not the quickest, maybe, but easily quick enough for a reporter. I wasn't interested in starting poo poo here and now, but at the same time...I was bored.
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Jun 23, 2015 19:07
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 2/5, Conditions: Hiding Something I finish my drink to drown out Maple's cackle. Stupid girl had a deathwish I supposed. Jemma had scooted up nice and close and I was about to push her away when I caught sight of Hedgepeth setting himself up a table and my eyes narrowed. I put a hand on Jemma's leg to keep her calm instead. The bastard had gotten awful rough with her a few weeks back when he came in, and locked the door, too, to make sure it took us a few minutes to get in. Now we kicked him out and all, but he had paid up front (as preferred) so technically, well, poo poo, he didn't actually hurt her, hurt her. Just banged her up some. Still, if the bribón thought he'd get to have his way with her again, he had another thing coming. If the gang had been here we would take him now and ride him out of town and no one would ever see him again. For now? I had to be subtle. I could probably drop him from across the room but, like I said before, I had to keep things quiet until Wednesday night, I guess. So instead I fished out some dinero and slapped it down on the table in front of Jemma. I mumbled "I am surely going to regret this." under my breath and then addressed her directly. "Come on, get up. You're bought for the evening Miss Jemma. We'll go meet the boys ourselves and then we'll run a quick errand, ok?" drat my pure heart. I didn't see her reaction because I was too busy glaring at Hedgepeth from across the Saloon. Still, I stood and offered her my hand in assistance. "Come on, vaminos." Oh, and that errand? Yeah, I had an idea for taking care of that little bit with the collection box. But I'd need a distraction. Jemma was nothing if not distracting, so two birds, one stone, you know?
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Jun 24, 2015 17:31
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 2/5, Conditions: Hiding Something Heading back I was almost surprised to see Ramirez heading my way, but I nodded at him and then at the revival tent. He smirked at Jemma being with me but I shot him a look and he straightened up. "That dog turd Hedgepeth was eyeing us from across the Saloon." I said and gave her a little squeeze on the shoulder to reassure her. He spit. "Fuckin' trash. You want me to...?" "Nah, ese, he'll get his eventually, but we're gonna need you for something else." Now, this was the tricky part, because I couldn't actually TAKE the revival money until Wednesday, either. An investigation of where I was snooping around was going to get messy and I don't intend to give any of these cabrones enough time to react, which meant... ...ugh, it meant grooming Jemma into doing what I needed her to do which meant I needed to keep her around which meant... I shuttered. "Okay, so for now, Ramirez, keep an eye on Jemma when I'm not around to. When I am, make sure Garcia and Catherine stay on their targets, okay?" He nods, no argument there. "Jemma." I turned to face her. "Listen..." We stopped outside the revival tent - I wasn't going in. Not yet. Not for a few days. "...listen, chica..." I took her hand. She blushed. I took a moment to not look annoyed and continued. "...here's where you come in. There's two big things which I want, and, well, soon enough me and the gang gotta get out of town, okay? But I want to make sure you're well taken care of when we go, so..." She interrupted, of course. "You're leaving!? Senorita Ortega why, was it something I said?" I could feel her grabbing my hand tightly, as if we were leaving right this second. "N...no Miss Jemma, nothing like that, I promise, okay?" This woman was a mess, I swear. "It's just...we don't like towns that get too big. Frontier folk, you know?" The train coming in was the reason we were getting gone, after all, so it was only half a lie. "But the thing is, the money in the revival tent - you could retire on part of that. Now I can't take it today, and I sure can't take it on my own. Me and my gang, we've got too much of a reputation 'round these parts. But you, you could distract Senor Brady for long enough to snatch what we need, and then we'll divvy it up, five ways, and get you something extra maybe." From the other score. For what it was worth I kind of meant it, just because she had a ridiculous crush didn't mean the poor girl didn't deserve some sort of happiness. "I know, it's asking a lot, but we've got some days to get it ready - you'll help right? I'd be really grateful if you said you would." To my own chagrin, I kind of rubbed the back of her hand with my thumb as reassurance. She clung on tighter. Hopefully she didn't take the reassurance the wrong way. Manipulating Jemma into agreeing to help with the score on the tent 2d6+1: 9 [2d6=3, 5] I shutter to think, but what's it going to take to get her to agree?
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Jun 26, 2015 21:15
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 2/5, Conditions: Hiding Something "Ai, madre de dios..." I mutter as she jumps to her conclusion. That wasn't what I was suggesting, at all! A little lilly white saloon girl part of the Ortega gang? Hardly! I wasn't joking when I told her that we were more comfortable outside of civilization than in it - we weren't exactly the sort of people to rest on our laurels. "...Ok." I agreed. She could feel free to think what she wanted to think, of course. So long as she kept her mouth shut and did exactly what I told her to think then I could handle her thinking she was a hard-rear end bandida for the next few days. Fat chance of her coming with us for real, for real, but maybe I'd give her a few days in the saddle and see how she'd do. I try not to judge books by their covers - even if this book had that fancy gold filigree and a velvet bookmark. Not the sort of thing to take on the trail with you unless you wanted to ruin it. But sometimes ruining people was it's own reward so. "Here's how it's going to go down, Jemma." I shot Ramirez a look, mostly a 'don't you dare laugh' look, but also a 'because we'll laugh about it later together' look. "Until Wednesday, all you need to do is talk up senor Brady until he trusts you. Just keep doing that, it doesn't matter what the excuse is. Maybe you're trying to find religion or whatever. I just want him to take you in his strict confidence by then, because wednesday night you need to get him away from the tent on my say-so until I give the signal. I'll whistle, ok?" She nods, I continue. "Once that's done, you'll get yourself packed and meet us at the edge of town and we'll all take off." I force a charming smile to my face. "Then the real fun'll start, my little chica." For me and the gang, anyway. Might not be too fun for her but she didn't need to know that.
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Jun 30, 2015 17:33
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 2/5, Conditions: Hiding Something Most days, including this day, I just tried to keep cool and look like I was keeping everybody out of trouble. Town doesn't need a sheriff if there's a gang 'protecting' everybody, right? So it was here, at least most of the time. Most days I'd have Catherine and the boys with me but I had given them all jobs watching people which they were all off doing (Julius, his wife, and Jemma). Being solitary was a little weird, I'll admit, I'd never really done it before. Makes you think maybe three extra guns isn't sufficient. Early part of the morning I head back to the saloon, then go get some water and some grub across the street in the afternoon, since I missed out on the funeral spread. I also spent an hour practicing my shooting - no sense in getting rusty after all. And then back into town, check up on the gang, and back to pretend patrolling. Of course, it was about then I spotted the Pinkerton, which put me on edge immediately - for one thing, I didn't want to get spotted by the law without my backup around. For another thing, even if he wasn't here for me and mine I'm sure he'd take the opportunity to if he got a look at everything for too long. The only real chance at everything not blowing up was to pretend to be the authority and make sure he saw me that way above everything else. So I spit and adjusted my gun belt, and approached him. "Hola, senor! Can I help you with som'thin?" I called out to him as I crossed the street towards him, hand at my hip just in case he was after me, after all.
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Jul 2, 2015 17:41
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 2/5, Conditions: Hiding Something "Hey, I'm talkin' to...!" Aw hell, this was going to be a mess I realized as the man walked away, joined by similiarly dressed compatriots surrounding the girl. I watched for a second as I watched Ms. Abigail get surrounded by these jokers. "Dios..." I muttered as I started after him. So funny thing, while I was obviously a criminal and the sort of person to cause trouble, I didn't like it when other people made messes. Mostly because it'd draw attention, and a kidnapping by out-of-towners meant other people were going to come snooping around which I simply couldn't have for a few more days. With none of my compadres around for backup, this could only get bad quick, but at the very least it'd be something to do and would make me look like a hero, I guess, which was better than being suspicious. I pulled my six-shooter out of it's holster and aimed down at the back of the man crossing the street towards his fellows and pulled the trigger. Only...nothing happened. I blinked and snapped the chamber open. Empty. Dammit Ramirez! Probably using the bullets in one of his stupid superstitious rituals. Trying to shoot the Pinkerton dude! http://orokos.com/roll/306963 Thanks orokos you piece of garbage....
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Jul 8, 2015 17:34
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 3/5, Conditions: Hiding Something poo poo. Fuckingshitcocksuckingdiablo'sballsack! Great, getting spotted is going to be ugly but gently caress it I'm the closest thing to the law in this town there was. I fish my lucky bullet out of my back pocket where I kept it, kissed it, and loaded it in the chamber and pulled back the hammer. "OYE!! Retoños-polla! Back away from the pretty ladies or I'll put one between your eyes afore you can blink again, comprende!?" I shouted as I aimed down the sights, approaching to where I knew the sweet spot on my pistol was. I grinned madly - mutherfuckers made any sudden moves and I'd kill them, I had them dead to rights and I could feel it, I KNEW I had at least the first shot as sure as I knew I breathed air and drank water (well, whiskey and tequila). Okay so I only had the first shot cuz I only had the one bullet but these dead men didn't know that, did they? "If you think I'm playing with you pendejos, I dare you to make a sudden move, I loving DARE YOU!" Ok, going to try shutting down the Pinkertons first, just in case poo poo blows up. 2d6+1: 8 [2d6=6, 1] Ok that works. I'll trade conditions. Let's make the Pinkertons "Yellow". And taking an xp for rolling cold LifeGetsWorser fucked around with this message at 23:13 on Jul 10, 2015 |
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Jul 9, 2015 00:27
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 3/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Marked for Death "Oye, not so fast puta!" I shout at the one attempting to drag Ms. Abigail off and fire at him, the bullet hitting him somewhere around his head or neck or shoulder, spinning him and Ms. Abigail around like a top. Only difference is she stayed standing and he fell over, leaking from the new hole he'd just earned. Hey, I warned him, right? I'll lash out Physically at the Pinkerton trying to drag Abigail off, and use her Prophecy to succeed with a 10. I'll declare that the Harm is great and deal 2 harm (plus whatever extra the gun does if any) Of course, that leaves me in a precarious sort of position, with no bullets and a couple of angry hombres pointing lead at me, so I shout, angrily at them, hoping to throw them off balance the yellow cowards, and then dive off to the side out of their lines of fire. Ok lets just, uh, run away from inevitable death here, now. +1 comes from their Yellow condition. <LifeGetsWorser> !r 2d6+1 <Krysmbot> LifeGetsWorser, 7+1 = 8 Well I did just fire a gun in the middle of the streets, so, let's make that causing a big scene, shall we? Stupid Ramirez stealing my bullets, I ought to put one in each of his thieving hands if he wants them so bad - is he TRYING to get me killed or something? LifeGetsWorser fucked around with this message at 23:14 on Jul 10, 2015 |
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Jul 9, 2015 14:37
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 3/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Madre de dios, this was gonna suck. Had to think fast - I grabbed a rock and hurled it at the rear end in a top hat staring down a barrel at me; didn't much matter if it hit, just so long as it made him flinch. Per Capfalcon, this is a Hold Steady 2d6+1: 7 [2d6=4, 2] I'll exchange 'Marked for Death' for 'Terrified' The rock bounces off the end of his pistol, jerking it to the left suddenly, but I'm too busy making a mad dash across the street right at him to notice. I could feel my heart pounding away in my throat, but I roared in what I hope sounded rage anyway - hopefully he'd be off balance enough to panic, and not able to correct his aim. I dived into his midsection and tackled him to the ground with me. And I'm going to complete 'Serena's Horrible Day' by charging a dude trying to get me dead. 2d6+1: 9 [2d6=5, 3] I will choose to do 1 harm to him and let him get a string on me. Tagged Yellow for that +1 LifeGetsWorser fucked around with this message at 23:14 on Jul 10, 2015 |
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Jul 10, 2015 21:12
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 2/4, XP: 3/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Terrified "MIERDA!" I curse as I tumble headlong into the Pinkerton. No time to deal with the fact that Polly decided it'd be best to shoot the woman trying to save her stupid hide; cos if I did I was for sure going to end up like her, anyway! "Estúpida chica muerta!" I grunt as I roll in the dirt with the man, managing to get on top of him for at least a moment and take a swing at his face, trying to lay him flat. My cursing, was, of course, aimed at Polly though. "Hazlo una más tiempo de mierda y usted va a terminar de nuevo en el suelo!" Did she speak Spanish? Who the gently caress cared! She shot me in the thigh! At the very least my angry Spanish ranting looked to be making the rear end in a top hat who had INTENDED to shoot me nervous. Good. At least there was something going right here. Momma said knock you out! 2d6+1: 8 [2d6=1, 6] He can have another harm and another string! Tagged Yellow for +1 again My fist connects with his jaw and I hear, and feel, the crack as something breaks in his mouth. This line was for him, of course. "Eso es gilipollas derecha, comer esos putos dientes!" LifeGetsWorser fucked around with this message at 23:14 on Jul 10, 2015 |
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Jul 10, 2015 23:04
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 2/4, XP: 3/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Terrified With a snarl I tossed the Pinkerton's hands off of my shoulders as he tried to recover from the fist to his face, but I wasn't going to let him get his wits back about him. I put my hands around his throat and I squeezed. I squeezed as hard as I could and I watched his eyes go wide with terror and felt as his jerking around underneath me slowed down and stopped. Lashing out at the Pinkerton, tagging Yellow for +1 <LifeGetsWorser> make with the punching! <LifeGetsWorser> !r 2d6+1 <Krysmbot> LifeGetsWorser, 9+1 = 10 I uh, I don't think it really matters what I pick here, but let's say the harm is great because Serena would make sure. Finally, his eyes rolled up in his head but I didn't stop for another twenty seconds. I counted, under my breath. Helpfully, that also let me catch it. "MOTHERFUCKER!" I swore as I rolled off of him, feeling the bullet throbbing in my thigh finally as the adrenaline slowed down. I pried the gun out of his hands and the other one off of his belt. "poo poo, cocksucker..." I stumbled to my feet, with a roar of pain. Getting shot in the thigh was bad news. Wouldn't kill you right away but it sure made running next to impossible. Still, I'd had worse. Catherine, Ramirez, and Garcia were going to get a talking to I assure you. What good was a gang if they didn't show up for a firefight!? Nevertheless, I wasn't going to go through all of this and then NOT make sure Temple wasn't dead or kidnapped or whatever. So I holstered one of the pistols, and I kept a grip on the other one. These Pinkertons better have quality pieces; just in case there were more of them I wasn't about to throw more punches in another firefight. Honestly, surprised I wasn't MORE shot. "SENORA TEMPLE!!!" I shouted hoarsely. A lot of yelling and swearing. "It's SAFE! THE FUCKERS ARE DEAD!" Just come out dammit, I didn't have time for this. I staggered off towards where I last saw them run off.
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Jul 14, 2015 04:07
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 2/4, XP: 3/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Terrified Maple and James were talking in the street, but who cared? So long as they weren't shooting at me, that's all I cared about right now. When Catherine and then Garcia (and Jemma, I guess) showed up I couldn't help but show my relief, if only a little bit. I let Catherine prop me up on her shoulder with a huff. I was still mad, after all. "Buncha fuckin' bounty hunters think they can come in here and ignore me. Mierda! Guess it was stupid of me to get involved." I wince, trying to put weight on the leg with the bullet in it. Finally, I actually answered Catherine's question. "That dumb perra muerta Pollyanna, she tried to play a hero and ended up sticking a slug in my thigh. Hurts a bit, had worse though." I pause. "Still, guess I ought to get somewhere to lay down and get the drat thing pulled out of me." I nod over to Garcia. "One of the three of those fuckers might still be alive...not the one I strangled or the one I shot, but Temple might not have been as lethal. If he's still breathing tie him up and bring him with us, I wanna know what they wanted the married perra for." Garcia does as he's told with a nod, and Jemma tries to help Catherine with keeping me upright; I wave her off. She wasn't one of the gang, so she wasn't worthy of being trusted, yet. "C'mon, let's get you to the Saloon." Catherine suggests. I nod. "The gently caress did Ramirez go? Fucker took the bullets out of my piece, probably to sanctify them or whatever stupid superstition he's got. I owe him a smack across the head." The others all shrug; hopefully he was just doing what he was supposed to, I guess. I'd find out later.
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Jul 14, 2015 17:49
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 2/4, XP: 3/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Terrified "Hey, Jemma, hold on a second!" Oh Madre de Dios she's really going to go off and sulk like that?! I reached out and grabbed her wrist before she could take off. "Don't go anywhere, ok? This is just the messy part, is all." Christ it was like chaperoning infants, with all these people. "Trust me if I didn't want you around I'd say so, so stay with me, alright?" I give her a smile, pained though it was. Hopefully she'd take the hint and stick with us. Rolling to Manipulate Jemma into not running off. 2d6+1: 10 [2d6=5, 4] Stay! Good saloon girl! Of course, it was at the point where I was tugging Jemma back over that Senora Temple finally got to. Garcia had just hoisted the unconscious Pinkerton over his shoulder and I sighed, and over-dramatically rolled my eyes before turning around. Abigail had at least dropped the one rear end in a top hat, but not sticking around left me pretty sore. "Si, Senora Temple, gracias for deigning to poke your head back out." I growled sarcastically as I turned around. "If it's not too much trouble, could you maybe explain to me why it is a bunch of bounty hunters were after you? You got something you wanna tell me before I interrogate this one and find out anyway?" I jerk my thumb towards the not-dead man. Thankfully, I could trust Garcia to make sure he didn't get up and run away. Besides me, the ugly bastard was probably the best at getting the job done out of the whole gang. Not that I'd ever tell him that. But anyway, Abigail running off had for sure made me a bit infuriated. "Or would you rather go back to running off with Miss Polly?" Seriously, who taught these girls firefight etiquette, anyway? Gonna do some shutting down of Abigail, tagging her Sapphic nature for a +1 2d6+2: 10 [2d6=3, 5] I'll give the condition 'Suspicious' to Abigail. LifeGetsWorser fucked around with this message at 00:34 on Jul 15, 2015 |
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Jul 15, 2015 00:11
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 2/4, XP: 3/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Terrified "Do you think you could maybe elaborate on that for me, por favore? Seeing as I might've just ended a couple of lawmen on your behalf, I figure I deserve the whole explanation, don't you?" I growled. "Especially considering your little girlfriend saw fit to plug me in the leg, yeah?" Catherine nodded. "You'd do best to answer her Senora Temple." She said with a frown. "Generally not wise to disrespect the woman what saved your life." She shot me a look that basically said 'why did you save her life anyway?'. Wish I could tell you, Cat. Still, I could tell she didn't want to talk about it out in the open, which I could respect. I nodded. "We're headed back to Miss Bella's to take a load off and pull the bullet outta my thigh, so why don't you come back with?" It sounded like a suggestion but it really wasn't. "You can tell me all about it there."
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Jul 15, 2015 00:39
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 2/4, XP: 3/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Terrified "Save it for indoors." I suppose I'd probably take her up on the looking at it thing. I sure as poo poo didn't trust any of my other companions with it. Ramirez was generally the best at the doctoring thing and he hadn't turned up yet, so I'd take any help I could get. Gonna bump things along if that's ok with you OK Shark. If not let me know and I'll edit stuff out. The one advantage about cozying up with a Saloon girl is, well, private room when it was necessary. I couldn't really let Jemma not crowd me in her own lodgings though, but Garcia stood watch outside while Jemma fussed and Catherine held in a chuckle. I just rolled my eyes. Cussing under my breath I kicked off my boots and sat on the edge of Jemma's bed. Then I nodded at Abigail. "Well, go ahead then, Senora Temple." With the talking, I meant, though like I said earlier I wasn't going to turn down medical assistance. With a grunt I unfastened my knickers and slid them off carefully - with Catherine and...regretfully...Jemma's help, too, and whistled lowly at the wound, flinching. "Your girl is almost a good shot if she wasn't such a bad shot. Gonna need new pants." "Or a skirt..." Catherine teased, but Jemma's eyes lit up at the idea. Ugh, not this again. I rolled my eyes. Still, I'd heard rumors about Senora Temple. Not really sure how she was going to react to a bottomless chica in her vicinity. Was it really safe letting her poke around at my thighs for me? Turning on Abigail, tagging Sapphic for +1 <LifeGetsWorser> Ok Krysmbot, you better exceed Orokos on the day <LifeGetsWorser> or else the apocalypse has started <LifeGetsWorser> !r 2d6+2 <Krysmbot> LifeGetsWorser, 7+2 = 9 <LifeGetsWorser> good enough Ok, so string/self/promise?
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Jul 15, 2015 04:46
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 3/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Terrified "Si, si, I am sure I'll have them in a panic in short order." I smirk, though the prospect of having a team of bounty hunters after me wasn't a fantastic one, if I could take out two on my lonesome, once we were out of town a whole gang wasn't going to be terribly worried by these jokers. "But you don't have to apologize for needing help, Senora Temple; I'm not a big fan of a man telling a woman what she can and can't do, after all." If that wasn't obvious from my whole shtick, I guess. Nevertheless, I give her something of an amused grin at her continued worrying over my injury. "You sure do worry a lot though, don't you? A lot of that seems to be going around in Serendipity; but don't you worry about me, okay? I got my compadres here to take care of me, generally." I give a nod towards Catherine and even Jemma, I guess, though I was going to have to give the latter some actual lessons on not getting dead if she was seriously coming with us...what was I thinking? Must be more blood lost than it looked like; I wasn't picking up any more stragglers. To that note, I kind of coughed into my hand at the fact Abigail was still adjusting bandages down there. "So, everything look okay so far as my thigh goes, or do I need to ask you to buy me a drink?" Catherine snorted, unable to hide the laughter behind her hand entirely. Jemma seemed a little peeved, but she hadn't shot anybody so Abigail was up on her a couple of points already so she'd have to deal. "Jus', do me a favor, try not to have anymore armed confrontations in the streets. At least for a little while, okay?" I asked with a snort. Didn't much matter to me if she did starting Thursday but I wasn't too keen on getting shot again in the meanwhile. I'm removing my harm since I've got another PC fussing over me, assuming that's okay.
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Jul 15, 2015 23:45
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 3/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Terrified I wave Catherine off. "I'll be fine, Cat. It's not as if I've never been shot before." I nod. "You and Garcia got jobs to do, so go do them. Ramirez is already not keeping up his end of things." That was worrisome; since Jemma was here, Ramirez ought to be as well. People don't disappear, at least mine didn't. That did mean I had to keep an eye on Jemma anyway, and I might as well teach her a couple basics. "Besides, I got Jemma here." I say while her back was turned and only Cat can see my raised eyebrow. "I'll see you in the morning, ok?" I give her a wink. "Tell Garcia to work on his smile." I swear, they were like my kids. Catherine looks almost nervous, but she nods and her smirk is back. She shuts the door and leaves us, muttering something to Garcia that made them both chuckle. Probably something at my expense. That left me with Jemma, who was giving me a curious expression from across the room. Still, I had questions for her. "Hey, so where'd Ramirez get off to, anyway? I told him to keep an eye on you to make sure that ugly bastard from the Saloon didn't get any funny ideas. Did that pendejo tell you where he was headed?" I guess I had to give her a small something; I shouldn't go walking around for the rest of the night with a hole in my leg. So I patted the bed next to me with a weary smile. "I hope you don't mind my staying here, by the way. Normally I wouldn't impose but if Ramirez ain't pullin' his weight I should make sure you're safe anyway." I sighed, and shrugged at her as she sat down cautiously. "I uh, I just have the three pairs of trousers, and now one's got blood and holes and poo poo in it. I don't know a lot about skirts or fashion or anything." This was my attempt at explaining why I was still sitting on her bed pants-less. "Besides, I suppose Senora Temple's got a point, I probably don't want to be agitating the wound for a couple of days." The idea of robbing a bank in skirts was a frustrating one but I guess Catherine did it. Just, it was bound to be annoying. "But uh, as I was saying Senorita Ross," I tease. "Did you see Ramirez? What happened to him?" Manipulating Jemma to spill the beans about Ramirez, if she knows anything. <LifeGetsWorser> Manipulation time! <LifeGetsWorser> !r 2d6+1 <Krysmbot> LifeGetsWorser, 6+1 = 7 <LifeGetsWorser> welp, partial success still counts right? What'll it take to get her to spill the beans? I dread asking this. LifeGetsWorser fucked around with this message at 20:35 on Aug 13, 2015 |
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Jul 16, 2015 05:31
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 4/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Terrified pre:[Jeanette] [Abigail] [ ][Bella] [ ] [ ] [Serena][Jemma] [Emmln ] [ ] [ ][ ] [James ] [Maple ] [ ][ ] I guess I could count my blessings that she didn't try to actually pull anything during the night, and I know, because I had made drat sure she fell asleep before I did. Still I guess I nodded off enough for her to have curled up next to me and, well, I can't be blamed for hugging a warm body in my sleep, right? I'm just thankful none of the gang had seen me yet today. I'm sure Catherine would love it, until I punched her. But I couldn't punch Jemma, and she had been insistent that if I was going to the Revival meeting I had to look lady-like. So she stuffed me into one of her dresses and even forced me to sit there and let her put makeup on my face. I had insisted my hair stay down though, but I don't think it was helping my image. I looked all dainty and poo poo, in the dark purple dress with all the lacy parts. Not the sort of thing I liked to wear, and the skirt was irritating something fierce. The heels were worse, and it was of course my luck that Jemma and I were about the same shoe size. And it sure didn't help any that I was still limping and kind of had to lean on her on the way over here. Still, of course I was going to come to the Revival today. I had to case the joint properly and the best time to do that was when you were supposed to be there. For her part, Jemma was game on playing her part, too. Which meant after the meeting she was going to go flirt; which was good because it gave me the opportunity to get the hell out of here and put on something more respectful so I didn't feel like a drat peacock. At least I still had my pistol strapped to my thigh. Well, the Pinkerton's pistol, I guess. I hadn't seen Ramirez so I had no chance of getting more bullets for my own six shooter. Still, it'd work for now. Just cuz I had had to look like a doll for the moment didn't mean I needed to go unprotected. But, oy, was church boring. I guess I kept myself awake too long because I kept feeling myself nod off even while I was trying to case the joint. I wonder what the best way to duck in and get the cash on Wednesday would be...? Going to try and Gaze that question 2d6-1: 5 [2d6=2, 4] Nope, Serena is still lovely at Dark. Marking XP. LifeGetsWorser fucked around with this message at 20:36 on Aug 13, 2015 |
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Jul 17, 2015 19:12
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 5/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Terrified I fix Jemma with a look. With any of my gang, it would have been more than sufficient to shut them up, but Jemma apparently didn't understand what it meant or maybe my looking like a hussy just made it seem enticing because she just smiled at me and went back to paying attention to the sermon. Ah yes, the ol' 'you're a sinner and your actions will lead you to hell' thing; I've heard it before. I mean, maltido, did he honestly think I haven't figured I'm a bad person yet? I guess he could be talking to someone else, but I always figured the fire and brimstone had more than a little bit of resonance with me and mine. But wait, the Sodom and Gomorrah story was about...and he was looking at me and Jemma? Did he honestly think...? Oh don't make me laugh. I just rolled my eyes at him as he ranted and raved. Barking up the wrong tree, old man; though it's not any of your business if I did take her to bed, I wasn't planning on it. Gonna try and shut down the Doc with his ranting and raving <LifeGetsWorser> shut down with a better character! <LifeGetsWorser> !r 2d6+1 <Krysmbot> LifeGetsWorser, 3+1 = 4 <LifeGetsWorser> oh god <LifeGetsWorser> Krysmbot why have you forsaken me? Welp. I guess marking XP for rolling Cold. This puts me at five, so I suppose what I'll do is I'll pick up The Clique again. Gotta have more minions, clearly.
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Jul 19, 2015 15:41
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 0/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Terrified Now what in the actual infierno was the Doc rambling about? Did he mean Jemma, or did someone else do something stupid? I gave Jemma a questioning look, but she sort of shrugged. Either the Doc was assuming more than what was actually going on here, or someone else had some explaining to do, later. I'd have to get everyone together at the Saloon and figure this out, later. I might have to expand the job, I guess. This guy was giving me the stink eye, which meant he was suspicious. So my being around the revival tent wasn't going to work with just Jemma, especially since she's being seen with me. "Please, continue your sermon senor, I am finding it most enlightening." I responded with a forced smile at him. Maybe I'd end this cabrone on my way out of town, as a going away present to the citizens. I think that might be a sweet gesture.
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Jul 21, 2015 14:04
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 0/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Terrified I just sort of...stare. First at Ramirez's weird grin, then at the Doc's odd smirk, and finally at Jemma, who told me Ramirez was fine. This...wasn't fine. Ramirez was a superstitious pessimist, not a born-again nut. I couldn't use a born-again nut, especially since we were planning on robbing the revival tent! Ignoring Doc's comment, that obviously implied he did something to one of my hombres, which meant that Doc was getting dead later for sure, I offered Ramirez a wan smile and kind of nodded. "Oh uh...si..." I mean, Miss Serena? From Ramirez? No, that wasn't him. I mean, I've seen some weird poo poo out in the west, but it was like someone scooped out my hombre's brains and replaced it with someone else's. "Yeah, it was a real good sermon. Uhm, hey, I wanted to ask you a question last night, you mind taking a walk with me?" I shot a glance at Jemma to let her know she was definitely supposed to come along too, because I had words for her, too. I also nodded at Catherine and Garcia - they should follow after a minute or so, just in case things went really weird. No, I didn't like this at all. Still, everybody was still uhm, agreeing, even if Ramirez was way too enthused. Thank Christ I brought a gun. I nodded to the outside of the tent and headed that way, Ramirez and Jemma following behind me. We walked a bit off, out of earshot of everyone in the drat meeting, but I still kept my voice low. "Ok what in the gently caress is up with you? First of all you took my bullets and I got in a gunfight! Second of all you ditched your tail!" I growled at Ramirez and pointed at Jemma. "Third of all this morning you show up acting like a loving loon - so I wanna know what is going on? You're not normally this unreliable - so you better start giving me answers, comprende?!" Without waiting for him to answer I shot a glance at Jemma. "And you! If you want to be part of this outfit you better shape the gently caress up! Telling me he's just occupied isn't acceptable when he's acting this loving out of sorts! You have to know something happened so you better loving explain one-hundred loving percent from now on, you get that!?" I glare. "Dressing me up like you don't make me soft so don't think you can push me, Jemma." I glance at Ramirez. "Either loving one of you, got it!?" My hand was on my thigh, partly because it loving throbbed from my stomping out here but mostly because that's where I had my pistol strapped and I was quietly grabbing it, ready to pull it out of the concealed holster and blast my way out of this drat skirt if I needed to. LifeGetsWorser fucked around with this message at 17:35 on Jul 23, 2015 |
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Jul 23, 2015 17:30
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 0/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Terrified "You mean Patricia Ford? Patty Ford?!" One of the other saloon girls. I swear to God this is the wrong kind of mystery to be having. By now Catherine and Garcia had made their ways over, too. "Retoños polla..." I grumbled and rubbed my hands through my hair in thought. For a second Jemma looked concerned, probably because I was ruining the hairdo she did for me. But, well, whatever. "Okay, okay, I can figure this tonterias out." I muse out loud, and then I point. First, at Catherine and Garcia. "You two, stay on your marcas, but don't let the other one get caught alone with that pedazo de mierda Doc. That means if you gotta decide between leaving your tail or making sure the other one is safe, pick the second. Preference is to make sure our amigo Julius is still with it, so if you gotta leave his wife to make more trouble, so loving be it. If you gotta disparar su salida if Doc or one of his loving flock decides to get too friendly, do it. Back the other one up, I'll deal with the fallout." They nod. Not that I generally had a lot of mirth in my voice but if assholes were loving with my people, I would drown this entire loving lovely burg in blood. I glare at Ramirez. "You, tableau rosa." I grab him by his collar. "You, me, and Jemma are gonna go visit Patty and see what the fifar happened last night. You better pray she's not acting funny, too. Comprende?" I pause. "And give me your sidearm, you're no good to me right now." I extend my hand for it. If he didn't give it I was sorely tempted to just shoot him in the leg and be done with it.
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Jul 26, 2015 18:26
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 0/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Terrified I'm tempted to roll my eyes at Jemma's antics, but they served a purpose, I guess. At least Ramirez was gonna fall in line. I just had to hope nothing bad happened to Catherine or Garcia in the meantime. I'd rather hear bullets than have to deal with more born-again bandidos. Anyway, who cared what James heard - if he knew what was good for him he'd forget he heard it. I don't think I needed to say anything about it to him, especially after seeing what I was capable of yesterday. I'd be more worried about Abigail and Polly going off with Maple, but, well, I had my own problems right now and whatever was going on with Abigail and her girlfriends was nothing I cared about, so long as she wasn't getting kidnapped or whatever. We were headed for Patricia, and hopefully, we'd find her still herself and not acting all weird. I just cursed under my breath that this was such a huge distraction, but...whatever. Walking in the saloon normally in this sort of outfit would have been a no-sell, for sure, especially since I was finally getting the gapes and glances that the saloon girls normally got, but I was too focused to care. I marched my way over to Patty, if she was working the room, or up to her door upstairs if she wasn't, and knocked on it, hard. Either way, my words were gonna be the same for her. "You better not be loco, Patty. I need to talk to you!"
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Jul 31, 2015 18:14
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 2/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Terrified I will tell you one thing, I wasn't about to spend another day in a corset and skirts. A bit too...chafing for me, comprende? So over Jemma's protests the next morning I washed the makeup off and let my hair down. Though, I asked Ning (not Patty cuz the girl had proven to be able to hold him about as well as a wicker basket holds water) to bring Ramirez upstairs to my room before I finished getting dressed. Ok it was kind of a jerk move because no way was I going to try and seduce the boy, but he's seen me and Catherine on the trail plenty of times; privacy ain't really an option out there, so I want to gauge how much of a prude he's suddenly been turned into. As such, when he came in - kept in the room via Ning coming in behind him and standing in the doorway, I was stuffing myself into my trousers carefully, avoiding the hole in my leg best I could. His immediate turning around, only to be met with a face full of Ning's purdy cleavage made him turn beat red. "Don't be a stick in the mud cabrone, how much have you seen on the trail, eh?" I poked at him. "Take a loving seat, I want to think about what to do with you." Stupidly, he waited until I had buttoned up. Madre di dios did they do a number on him or what? Slipping a shirt over my shoulders, too, I stooped down in front of him and stared at him. He was still averting his eyes, so I used a finger on his chin to make him look at me. "Look, Ramirez, we've been through too much poo poo together for you to be getting all soft now. The four of us - you and me, ugly ol' Garcia and our little Kitty Cat, have taken too many bullets for each other, so I know you gotta be in there still somewhere." Okay okay, this was sappy, sure, and I'm sure Jemma and Ning noticed, but whatever, if they knew what was good for them they'd keep their lips shut. "So we're gonna play a game, right here. I'm gonna tell you a story about something we all did before this shithole town, and then you're gonna think real hard about who you were, and who I need you to be, and you're gonna tell me which fuckers did this to you, what those fuckers did, and anything else I might need to know to fix it and make them pay for messing your head up. This isn't an optional thing, you're going to do it, and I know you're going to because I'm asking real nice, and you know that means I'm being serious, somewhere in that soft little skull of yours. Okay?" Shut up. "I want you to jump in at anytime, whenever you remember this story, or when you can push your way through and let me know what the hell happened to you. No one messes with mine and gets away with it, so I won't let them get away with it, you know that right?" So I stood up, and I talked. I talked about Nunez and the bloodbath in the Mojave - my biggest fuckup, the single biggest score that bonded the four of us still living together. The day that Garcia earned the ugly motherfucker connotation, the day Ramirez started believing in ghosts and the day Cat decided sarcasm was better, saner, than being serious. My nightmare. In the back of my head Nunez was still screaming as the vultures ripped open his head to get at his eyes. But it was real. Really real. A couple hours of brainwashing wasn't going to wash that poo poo out of Ramirez's head, right? Trying to use this as a gaze to get Ramirez to tell me what happened to him. 2d6-1: 6 [2d6=3, 4] gently caress YOU orokos. Xp for dark. And...he never said anything. Anything useful anyway. He looked at me like the story didn't mean anything to him, and I was almost in tears. Jemma and Ning just stared, Jemma especially unsure of what to do. I finished getting dressed in silence. I took my own gun - I had made sure it was loaded this time - and I handed the Pinkerton's pistol to Ning. "Don't let him leave this room until I get back." I said grimly to her, and I dragged Jemma out with me, sticking my arms into my duster as I stormed off down the street. Of course this whole garbage John Law persona I had adopted meant even when I had murder in my eyes I was going to get pestered - because yeah I was going to go have a talk with the Doc...using my six shooter, and he'd be singing a red loving song if he didn't fix what he did to my man's head - and Michael O'Donnell of all loving people wanted to know if I knew anything about the murder. I just frowned at him. "Look, sometimes people get taken away from us before we're ready. And it's usually other people who do it. We normally don't get the who's and the why's, comprende? My advice to you is move the gently caress on. You're still alive, make what you can of your life, cuz it's ugly and it's short, and one day you'll have more losses than gains, got it?" Shutting down Michael, too. 2d6+1: 7 [2d6=5, 1] Jesus, barely. Effing orokos. I'll trade conditions with him. Give him "Out of his Depth". Take xp for Cold, too. LifeGetsWorser fucked around with this message at 19:55 on Aug 13, 2015 |
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Aug 13, 2015 19:43
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Hot: +1 Cold: +1 Volatile: +0 Dark: -1 Harm: 0/4, XP: 2/5, Conditions: Hiding Something, Terrified, Stone Cold I keep thinking back to Ramirez...or what was left of him, anyway, and what I was going to do to that cabrone Doc when I got my hands around his neck, the whole time Michael was arguing against my doing anything about this for him. Of course I couldn't really...Whithouse was necessary, but, false hope was better than no hope, right? "Okay, pepito, you're right. Sometimes revenge can help. I'll look into it for you, okay? Come see me Thursday morning, I'll have some answers for you by then." Maybe I would, somehow. Either way, I'd be long gone. "Just...don't go getting yourself into trouble in the meanwhile. Leave it to the professionals." I give him a playful wink. See, I wasn't all bad. But Senora Temple and her spectre friend really needed to stop hassling my inside man. I frowned. "I'll talk to you later, if you'll excuse me, si?" I tipped my hat to him and walked over towards the argument, hands on my hips (but not near my pistol - probably wouldn't need it here. "Senora Abigail, Senor Whithouse, the way you two are carrying on could wake the dead." I shoot the ghost a meaningful glance. "Now, why don't you both just ease up a bit and clue me in on what's going on?" I really had no time for this John Q. Law bullshit, I had a preacher to murder in cold blood - but I had to keep my image intact at least for a little while longer. Besides that, I had Abigail on my radar since our conversation when she was patching my leg up - there had to be more to her little story, and finding out what that was would be nice. Shutting down Abigail, tagging Suspicious for +1 2d6+2: 8 [2d6=2, 4] Let's lose strings on each other!
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Aug 26, 2015 23:55
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