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Post by Cobraheart on Aug 29, 2016 17:22:47 GMT -5
(I approve that face claim. Mikey is the best (although I might be biased because I play bass))
Idoya turned to look at Daniels as soon as she heard the "thud." She had no trouble putting the pieces together: this was Micah's sheriff. A little chuckle escaped her throat, but she didn't bother running. He didn't seem to be a threat. Instead, the outlaw approached him with a smile on her face, stopping daringly close to the officer. "You alright there, Sheriff? Don't strain yourself; wouldn't want to leave Micah without its most important citizen, would we?"
Whitaker hobbled down the steps after Clifton, frantically shaking a fist at Idoya. It was clear he had no intentions of facing her, though; he'd leave that to the professionals. "Sheriff Daniels is gonna gitcha, lady. You'd best be runnin' away, because there's no way you'll escape without a head start."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Idoya said, her brown eyes glinting with amusement. "Who are you? Uh, wait, no, I think I heard about...Wimbledon. That's it. You're Wimbledon."
"Whit-uh-ker," he replied venomously, and pointed an unsteady finger at the criminal before him. "Don't act like you ain't never seen me before. You stole my cuff links and my watch and now Micah's goin' bankrupt. We're all gonna have to move!"
"Damn." Idoya feigned sympathy, her gaze falling to the sandy street. "It really would be a shame, wouldn't it? If no one lived in Micah anymore? I hope you catch that robber of yours. Sincerely. But you've mistaken me for someone else; I just got into town about five minutes ago. Another cowgirl rode out at breakneck speed, though. Maybe you were thinking of her." Idoya had all but convinced Whitaker by now; the outlaw's tone, her countenance, that pretty face...it all had the teller wondering if he had, in fact, seen someone else rob the bank, someone with exactly the same features, clothing, and horse. Stranger things had happened.
Eventually, Whitaker turned to Clifton and Daniels with a shrug. "Yeah, this ain't her. I saw someone else today."
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Post by John 3:16 on Aug 29, 2016 20:13:25 GMT -5
(First of all, I am very sorry for not coming on, my data is out Dx and when I thought I connected to the internet I pressed reply and it deleted everything because I was offline and I have officially lost muse for right now. Will reply a little bit later, however)
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Post by Cobraheart on Aug 29, 2016 21:38:18 GMT -5
(Ughhhhh I hate it when that happens. ;-; Sorry about that)
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Post by ℜust ℜed ℜose on Aug 29, 2016 22:14:40 GMT -5
[[That sucks. I find typing them up on google docs solves that problem. Of course, I only learned that handy trick once it was too late.]]
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Post by John 3:16 on Aug 30, 2016 0:07:36 GMT -5
(Agh I should probably do that)
(And oh my gOD *slight flailing* Mikey is best I agree 100% a+++)
(lmao)
After a quick hair fix, Sterling walked outside with the others and faced the outlaw. The deputy's hand was on his revolver, ready to undo the safety and put a bullet through her head at any moment. But to lighten his mood, he let out a laugh as he heard the newcomer's name. "Whitaker? So that's your name!" Sterling said with a chuckle, his eyes bright as he looked at the scruffy unfamiliar. "Wasn't that hard, was it now?" Sterling said more than asked, pushing up his glasses and dropping his light mood as he looked towards the outlaw.
"Alright, introductions aside, who the hell are you?" Despite what she said, the deputy found himself doubting what she said. Something about it was off to him, as if it was indeed an abili. He kept one hand on his revolver in case he did need it, if she were to make a getaway. "And why do you come here?" Sterling inquired, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes as he narrowed them on her. Whatever he was expecting out of an outlaw, it wasn't this. But, being part of the police force, he knew these kinda of people came in all different shapes and colours. That's why he was on alert, ready to defend himself if needed.
(Hh it's not that great but oh well)
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Post by вєвє on Aug 30, 2016 0:50:17 GMT -5
I'm interested! May I partake in this hoedown?
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Post by ℜust ℜed ℜose on Aug 30, 2016 2:13:11 GMT -5
I don't see why not.]]
What did he mean it wasn’t her? Clifton stared blankly at Whitaker before glancing to Sterling as he joined them. He gave them man a weak smile, before looking back at this woman he supposedly wasn’t who they were looking for. And here he was, thinking that he’d be able to finally get someone without any trouble at all. He'd do something other than paperwork. No rushing about like a madman. If this outlaw was still out there, she could have gone off in literally any direction. There was no hope in finding her. “Ran out here for nothin’, then,” Clifton muttered, though it was pretty clear the sheriff hadn’t done much running at all. To be entirely honest, he probably could have used the exercise.
He ignored whatever question Sterling had asked and blurted out his own. “Can you point ‘em in the right direction?” Now, in between drinking himself silly and being just a darned fool, he did accidentally say something a normal man might have thought logical. Of course, he had completely missed the idea that this might still have been her, so there was that. Poor Clifton; he really tried. Sometimes, anyway. Never got anywhere. “You said you saw ‘er leave, didn’tcha?”
He stared out at the dust that stretched on for as far as the eye could see, heaving a sigh. Sliding his pistol back into his holster, the sheriff adjusted his hat. He didn’t what to have to deal with any of this nonsense. He had better things to do than stand around and listen to people bicker. He gestured to the empty stretch of dirt with his left hand. “Just dust out there; little lady coulda gone anywhere in the d--- state by now. Anythin’ you know would sure help these folks.” These folks, because he would not be helping them. He was not going to just prance along looking for outlaws. No sir, he had a job to do, and he had to be here to do it. Of course, he never did, but it was the principle of the matter, naturally.
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Post by Cobraheart on Aug 30, 2016 16:31:35 GMT -5
(Sure, the more the merrier. You can jump in with us, if we can make a separate plot.) "Why am I here? I'm headed up to Clementine from Sandstin." Pronounced "Sandstin," despite its proper name, "Sandstone," the southerly city had become the victim of spelling errors all over the territory. No one knew why, in heaven's name, someone would think to pronounce it "Sandstin," but that was the way it had always been. Probably the work of some easterner. "And as you know, Micah's fifty miles from everywhere. Just stopped to pick up some supplies and have a drink." Idoya extended a hand to Sterling, the only person here she worried would discover her secret. Even Whitaker, the sole witness of her crime, didn't recognize her. Micah was everything the rumors said it was. "The name's Idoya," she went on. That wasn't her real name, of course, just an alias; Idoya wished to return to normal society someday, but for now, robbing and lying was as much fun as anything else. Turning to the sheriff, she pointed toward Mica's eastern gate. "Rode through right there. Probably doubled back. You two'd better split up if you have any hope of finding that bandit. Smart one, she is. That's how I'd do it." She winked at Sterling, knowing that, even if he did suspect her, he could never prove anything. The money was safe and sound, far away from city limits.
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Post by John 3:16 on Aug 30, 2016 16:50:10 GMT -5
Sterling ran a hand through his long dirty blond locks as his eyes narrowed at this 'Idoya', using his other hand to shake hers. Something about her was slightly wrong to the deputy, but maybe that was his inner paranoid police deputy shining through. He wouldn't act upon the feeling, and even if he wanted to he couldn't. There wasn't enough evidence, not much he could actually do about it. "Sterling. Deputy Sterling." Sterling said, staring at her through his glasses as he verbally pointed out his badge. He made a mental note to keep watch over his badge, just in case she was indeed the outlaw that ransacked the other town.
"We'll keep an eye out for her." Sterling said, letting go of her hand and stuffing his in his pocket. His mind was on the pistol in his holster, in case he needed to fill her with holes, which he would gladly do, if she was the outlaw. He shuffled his feet and pushed up his glasses, looking at Clifton with a raised eyebrow. Maybe Sterling had trouble believing things, or maybe his suspicion was justified and the drunkard couldn't see it. He wasn't too sure.
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Post by ℜust ℜed ℜose on Aug 30, 2016 17:16:54 GMT -5
Clifton only shrugged when Sterling looked at him like that. He didn’t know what the man was thinking, but he didn’t really care. There was not much they could do or say to get him to go anywhere. All he knew is that they were probably going to try and drag him off on some wild goose chase trying to find this outlaw. People always did. The annoyances came with the job. He rubbed his face tiredly. At least they knew she had headed East. Of course, she could have turned and gone any other way. The sheriff shrugged, eyeing Whitaker and Sterling when they didn’t immediately rush off to go get his things back. “You heard ‘er. Best get goin’ if you want your stuff back, fancy.” He started back towards his office, each step slow and careful. He wobbled a lot, trying not to fall on his face again. It was rather amusing to watch, as if he was crossing a creek or was a child taking his first steps. “‘Less you got a mighty good reason I ain’t comin’.”
He stopped part way back to the door and turned to Idoya, opening his mouth and holding up a hand to speak. The man glanced at the ground, trying to recall what he was going to say. He hesitated for another moment, mouth open. “They, eh… appreciate the help there.” Clifton considered having them escort her to Sandstone before remembering they’d be heading East and she West. He threw his hands up in exasperation, not having much else to add to the conversation.
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Post by Cobraheart on Aug 30, 2016 17:35:16 GMT -5
"I don't think Wimbledon would want you to hurt yourself anyway, sheriff. Better take a rest and get back at it in the morning." Idoya glanced at Sterling's badge, one eyebrow raised, before turning to go. "It was a pleasure to meet you boys. I hope our paths cross again someday."
Whitaker watched her all the way to the saloon, only removing his gaze from the outlaw after she'd gone through the doors. Breathily, he said, "Ain't that Idoya somethin'? Maybe she'll stick around. She seems to know a lot about catchin' bandeetos. Could use someone like that on the force, eh, Sterling?" He patted the deputy's shoulder, wearing a smile almost too big for his face. When Whitaker came out of his drunken stupor, he wouldn't remember much about their conversation, only that he'd probably done something stupid. He wasn't good at holding his liquor. Oh well. So it went. In Micah, there was plenty of time to practice.
(Do you guys think we should skip to the next scene, or is there more to do here?)
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Post by John 3:16 on Aug 30, 2016 17:44:02 GMT -5
Sterling growled to himself after her. "Thanks." Sterling said to Whitaker, before giving Idoya one last look before sighing once more. He looked up and down the road outside of the office, wondering if he should go and get his horse and ride around for a while to see if there was any trouble. But it was Micah, so that would be kind of useless. Nothing really happened in Micah. But he may be able to find more about Idoya. Or find the outlaw Idoya was talking about. Or both. Both would be ideal.
It was then that some doofus approached him with some papers, and Sterling turned to him. "Hey, uh, I need you do deliver these papers." The cowboy said, shuffling his hat and looking at Sterling with a pleading expression on his face. Sterling gave him a stern look.
"Go and do it yourself." He snapped, not caring if he had disappointed the cowboy. The cowboy sighed and walked away, his shoulders slumped in disappointment.
(Skip it fine by me)
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Post by ℜust ℜed ℜose on Aug 30, 2016 21:37:33 GMT -5
[[Feel free to skip to the next scene without me replying. I'm a little busy right now, but I'll have one up in a while. (New WoW expansion I've been waiting months for just got released. Haven't done much else.]]
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Post by Cobraheart on Aug 30, 2016 21:53:29 GMT -5
(Alrighty)
If one thing could be said for Micah, its sunrises and sunsets were nothing short of spectacular. That is, if you hadn't been on horseback for two days, riding to a dead-end town in the middle of nowhere. The marshal was sick of sunrises and sunsets, sick of the heat, the dust, the scorpions, everything. But he went where the law wasn't, and from what he'd heard, it didn't exist in Micah.
In town, the sun had just appeared over the Mesa, casting rays of morning light over its streets. The wind stirred up clouds of dust, partially shielding the approaching figure from sight. Good. This was how he liked it. Better that no one knew he was there, except the sheriff, of course. The marshal hoped he could straighten Daniels out, so he wouldn't have to stay. Building a life in Micah was the last thing the policeman wanted; besides, he had other reasons for visiting. It wasn't just the sheriff.
The marshal hitched up his horse outside Daniels' office, then took in the scenery. It didn't look so bad. Maybe a month or two out in Micah wouldn't be as awful as he'd thought. Confidently, the marshal headed up the steps and knocked exactly four times, then pushed the door open. Being from Massachusetts, he'd been in the habit of using his manners since, well, since his life began. He just didn't know any other way.
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Post by Cobraheart on Aug 30, 2016 21:54:25 GMT -5
(@rust - That sounds awesome xD I hope it's everything you've dreamed of )
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Post by ℜust ℜed ℜose on Aug 31, 2016 1:18:39 GMT -5
So far it's been wonderful. I've been way too excited all day.]]
Clifton settled back down in his chair. He was only comfortable for a moment before he realized he’d forgotten to get anything else to drink. The man threw his hat on the floor, cursing. He’d have to go get that later. He’d let the other two folks go do whatever the heck they please. He didn’t care what they did so long as they didn’t bother him. It was, of course, that had driven Micah to such ruin. The sheriff wouldn’t acknowledge the fact, but every darn person who lived here -and frankly even those that didn’t knew that as clear as day. Everyone except for him. He was too busy drowning himself in whiskey to know or care. Why, Micah might have even better off without a sheriff at all. At least then there wouldn’t be somebody getting in the way.
The sun had begun to rise in the distance. It bathed the land in warm, gold and red glow. This place was already hot enough. Wouldn’t matter who you asked. Clifton ran a hand through his hair, silently wishing he’d remembered to get a drink. Just sitting here was boring he had nothing to do. Rolling his eyes, the sheriff stared down at the papers Sterling had set down on top of it all. Except paperwork. Paperwork wasn’t any less boring than nothing at all. He picked up one paper, staring at it rather blankly, not bothering to pay attention to anything that he was reading.
Startled by the sudden knock on the door, Clifton sat up straight and set his paper down. He didn’t know quite who he expected to come through that door, but it certainly wasn’t the fellow that did. He didn’t even think he recognized him. “Can I help you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. He eyed the marshal’s badge suspiciously before waving his hand in the general direction of the chair. The very same chair that Whitaker had been using just a few hours before. “I’d offer you a drink but I ain’t got anythin’ at the moment.”
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Post by John 3:16 on Aug 31, 2016 2:17:55 GMT -5
The ever-so-familiar sound of hooves clip-clopping through the very early hours, or more like minutes of the morning sounded out through the quiet town as Sterling rode on his black steed to the sheriff's office. He liked to arrive at work early, even though he was no early bird. Sterling found it easier to work in the graveyard hours of the ungodly hours of the day. Or night. Really depends on how you look at it.
Sterling hummed a tune he had remembered from his youth in 'Jersey, one that has stuck in his head all his time as he reached the familiar stretch of land he usually rides as fast as his horse, Kobra, would go, right down towards the sheriff's office. He smiled, quickly giving Kobra a little pat on the neck, because squeezing his sides and taking off galloping down the street. This was the only time he could do this, as this was usually bustling with people. His arm was outstretched as he gripped the reins with the other hand, smiling like a lunatic as he stood up in the stirrups, getting into a jockey stance as his long black coat billowed out behind him like a cape. This was how to arrive to the workplace.
But soon, he found himself whisper-yelling "woah woah woah" as he pulled back against the reins, sitting down in his saddle as his rather bad eyes finally picked up on yet another newcomer. Jesus, they were all over the place today. Or yesterday. Nevermind. Who would want to come to Micah? A lot of people, he guesses.
Kobra slowly trotted over to the newcomer, Sterling keeping a grip on the reins as he neared the newcomer. "Hey!" He attempted to get his attention, which probably wasn't going to happen because of his voice. Most likely because of his accent. The drawbacks of having an accent. "Who are you?" Who would be here this early? That baffled him. And with Whitaker and Idoya, the only thing his mind could think of is the thought that something sinister is being plotted as he thinks about this. Or maybe again, that's his paranoid police force mind. Probably the latter, to be honest.
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Post by Cobraheart on Aug 31, 2016 8:25:05 GMT -5
The marshal raised an eyebrow at Clifton's offer, lips pressed tightly together. Maybe this wouldn't be so easy to straighten out. "You have to be joking, sheriff. Whiskey. In the morning. Do you drink like this every day?" He almost didn't want the sheriff to answer, because it certainly wouldn't be the response he wanted. When the marshal heard someone shout outside, he turned briefly to look, then put his cold green gaze back on Daniels. "Is that your only deputy?"
Still not wanting an answer, the officer poked his head back outside and took out his badge to show Sterling. "Samuel Faraday, US Marshal," he called, his expression less than friendly. "And who might you be?"
Sam always made the mistake of acting as though he owned a city before he actually knew anyone there. None of his assignments had been quite this...unruly, though. Usually the police force just needed a little help. In this case, they needed, well, a police force.
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Post by вєвє on Aug 31, 2016 9:09:41 GMT -5
So where can I jump in?)
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Post by Winona on Aug 31, 2016 10:32:21 GMT -5
((Ooh, I wish I'd seen this when it had started up. XD I would've joined so fast. I love Western stuff. If you guys don't mind, I'll probably just read along from the sidelines. =3 It's like reading a really good, Western book.))
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Post by ℜust ℜed ℜose on Aug 31, 2016 13:02:42 GMT -5
Koi: You could probably take the role of an outlaw riding into town, or just come into the office to complain about something. Just feel free wherever you see an opening. Blaze: I'm sure you could jump in, too, if you found the right time. I wouldn't mind others at all. \]]
“Every day? ‘Course not,” Clifton mumbled, but that was the darned biggest lie he’d ever told. It was clear as day, too, what with the bottles he still had on his desk and that fact he wasn’t thinking all too well. He knew enough to tell that this marshal being here was not good news for him. At least he had enough wits about him to know that it wasn’t a good thing how much he’d been drinking. Hangover kept him up more than he’d like to admit. He silently cursed himself, knowing this probably meant he wouldn’t have a chance for drink in a good long while. He was not the same man without the stuff, for better or worse. “Sterlin’s the only who does anythin’,” he commented, like the rest hadn’t just up and left. Like they hadn't gotten tired of working, or the nonsense. It didn't help Micah that there was merely one man doing all the work around here.
Frowning slightly when the marshal leaned out the door to talk with the deputy, the sheriff fetched his hat off the floor. He straightened it out. He might have even managed to look professional if he didn’t look rather pathetic. He had stubble on his face from forgetting to shave, he looked as tired as he felt (or maybe even worse) and darn it, he didn’t look like the kind of guy you wanted in charge of anywhere. It wasn’t much of a stretch to say he likely hadn’t made a great first impression on anyone.
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Post by John 3:16 on Aug 31, 2016 21:28:41 GMT -5
Sterling let out a laugh at his own antics. Of course this guy was a marshal, must've come here because of the non existent police force, no matter how much Sterling tried to keep everything in order. "Deputy Sterling Ryder." Sterling said, flashing his own badge. "Funny you're here... any reason?" Sterling probably got it right in his thoughts, but he liked to make sure anyways. As he was speaking, he carefully rode his horse over to the post to tie it up, quickly hopping off of it and securing Kobra to the post. His thin frame was nothing on Kobra's back, so Kobra didn't really feel a thing, and the thud Sterling made when he dropped to the ground wasn't a loud one.
Sterling pushed up his glasses and quickly rubbed the dust and sand off of the saddle of his horse as he patiently waited for an answer from the marshal. It was awfully dusty, which got a weird part of his mind wondering if a small dust devil came through and spread dust everywhere. But that was quickly debunked.
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Post by Cobraheart on Aug 31, 2016 21:46:37 GMT -5
(I think it would be great to have more characters in this RP. Like Rust said, you could join with an outlaw or one of the townspeople. Maybe even one of those deputies that disappeared. )
The marshal heaved a sigh. Not a mildly irritated sigh, but one of utter despair. For a moment, he simply stood in the doorway, gently massaging his temples. He'd been in Micah for ten minutes and it had already given him a headache. After he'd sufficiently recovered, Sam plastered on a smile and looked to Sterling. "Why am I here? Because I'm the only one that was willing to go. There will be order established in this city if it's the last thing I do; I didn't travel all the way out here for nothing." He missed Massachusetts more with every passing second, but maybe it wasn't so much Massachusetts as it was civilization; the marshal certainly hadn't met anyone with a shred of manners since he'd been in Micah.
Glancing back at Clifton, Sam put his hands on the back of the chair, trying desperately to keep his temper at bay. "I don't know if you can answer this for me," he began scathingly, "But I need to know who in Micah is a wanted criminal." From the looks of it, half the town should have been in jail. Maybe he'd have to take a more graceful approach to the situation and just run them out instead. They didn't have enough cells for every outlaw there, not to mention the prisoners would have to be fed and given water every day. It seemed to be a lot of unnecessary work.
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Post by вєвє on Aug 31, 2016 21:55:08 GMT -5
The infamous Nikita Night rode into town with her black mustang and wolf like dog by her side, her light blonde hair was tied into a tight braid she wore sleeveless white blouse with a black waist corset with tight leggings with a black and white short shirt handing in her waist with her navy blue gun belt that held her two eight shot revolvers and her large collection of ammo. She's know for killing her husband and his lover after being abused for their four year relationship, since then she's been killing cheater, beater and liar and has continued to dominate her targets and left the lawman chasing ghosts.
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Post by John 3:16 on Aug 31, 2016 22:32:18 GMT -5
Interesting. It seemed Sterling had gotten it right. "Ah, alright." Sterling said as he made sure the knot was tight, not wanting his horse to gallop into the sunset at the slightest of movements. His horse was a nervous creature, not really trusting much else other than Sterling. Which Sterling took pride in. But he was ripped out of his thoughts as yet another person rode into town. The smack of flesh on flesh was heard as Sterling facepalmed at the sounds of the familiar clip-clipping of a horse, but a horse he didn't recognize. Sterling whipped around to see another girl riding a horse in the early hours of the morning, right into town like it was her own. By her side was a dog Sterling could only describe as something like a coyote, or maybe a wolf, but definitely some type of dog.
"Why is everybody flocking here?!" Sterling said-yelled, flailing his arms as he spoke. This was definitely weird, nobody was here in the ungodly hours of the morning time. Not saying there were people always coming through here, no, not really. As Micah was a smaller town and the only town in fifty miles in any direction, they had their fair share of visitors. But not this many during this time, or ever, really.
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Post by Cobraheart on Sept 1, 2016 0:52:40 GMT -5
Sam looked ready to approach her, making his way back down the steps and to his horse, only to stop with one hand on the animal's withers. "You know," said the marshal, "Why don't you and the sheriff take this one? I'd like to see you in action." A smirk was slowly spreading across his face, as though daring Sterling to say anything against the idea. He was here to work, but if Sam had to stay for a couple months, might as well have some fun while he was there. "And I'll make you a deal, Jersey boy; catch this one, there might be a job waiting for you back east."
He'd picked up on the accent as soon as Sterling spoke, having been exposed mostly to those of the southwest for the past weeks. It was nice to hear someone with a little class, for once. Still, if they hadn't been out west, his perspective might have been a little different. Sam's own accent only emerged when he was excited, for whatever reason; recently, it had been the result of constant vigilance, along with some fear. He really hated the scorpions. They seemed to be everywhere.
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Post by вєвє on Sept 1, 2016 8:43:56 GMT -5
Nikita slowed her horse to a stop at the inn which sat on the corner of the street with the saloon diagnal and the sheriffs office right across the street. In this day in age women don't have that many rights but if you have an air of dominance you can pretty much accomplish anything. She ignored the men talking the ways away and set to untacking her horse while both the horse and the dog drank from the water trough
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