Devil's Dance [S/Not Accepting/PG-16/Season 1]

[Super Chaos Sonic]

[center][img]http://img528.imageshack.us/img528/516/chaossoniclogo2.png[/img][/center]

[center][b][u]Episode 1 ~ Enter the Blaze![/u][/b][/center]

[center][i][url="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-p47mQox3ig"]Trigun OST - Fool's Paradise[/url][/i][/center]

Jenora Rock...the sun was beating down on the land like it normally did, the wind blowing sand around. The people bustled around doing their own thing...more like doing it for someone else...but let's not get ahead of ourselves now.

Across the way, an old man and his grandson walked passed buildings, just carrying on with a small conversation they were having.

"And ever since James Mason beat Baxter Rockwell and took the bounty, he put all the money here in Jenora Rock. Because of that, its made the town how it is today. So in short, we owe it all to James Mason beating Baxter." the old man said, as he turned to his grandson. "Think that should be enough information for your school paper?"

His grandson nodded with a smile. "Sure is gramps! Thanks again for explaining it again to me!"

"Anything for my favorite grandson." he chuckled, ruffling the kid's auburn hair.

As they continued to walk and talk, a stranger in a black trench-coat passed, holding a hat over his head. The stranger could hear the two whisper as he passed.

[i]"Gramps...that guy looked funny..."[/i]

[i]"He sure did...sorta reminded me of how Baxter Rockwell looked back in the day."[/i]

[color=#FF0000][i]Yeah...I can still hear you both. [/i][/color]the stranger thought, as he kept walking around. He watched his surroundings and noted different things that were there that shouldn't. [color=#FF0000][i]I suppose my informant was right...seems like I'll have to do my thing when it's needed.[/i][/color]

[ListenToLife]

The heat of the sun beat down hard; like usual. The desert sand merely blew around in the wind, causing unwary travellers to hack and cough; like usual. The sound of bustling streets, people calling to each other and greeting their friends happily. Now that, that was unusual. Happiness in these times was hard to come by, and it was a surprise that no shootings were going on. But the people of Jenora didn't seem to be bothered with that as much nowadays. The stories of old were enough for them, apparently.

Or at least, so it seemed to Desmond. He had barely walked into the town's borders, and the bustling noise of the town was terrible. He grimaced a bit as he walked forward, his ears being irritated by the giggles of women as they gossipped about 'friends'. He lowered the brim of his Stetson a little as he became more surrounded by people, shadowing his face from the bright sunlight and hiding his identity.

"Excuse me." He would mutter frequently and half-heartedly as he knocked into many citizens; the dense group being hard to navigate. Many cold glares and cracked knuckles were aimed his way, and many hardened fights - tense about something or other - seemed to think about taking a shot at him. One quick flick of his overcoat dealt with that though; the dark leather holster, angled perfectly, and the decorated, powerful revolver were the trademark of an experienced Gunslinger, and something about his eyes made them think twice. Powerful eyes. Cold eyes.

He soon cleared the crowd though, politely helping up a young women he had knocked over as he rushed through the crowd. He apologized, almost sincerely; but again, his eyes terrified the women. She rushed away without so much of a word, huddling closer to her group of friends. Desmond merely sighed and adjusted his Stetson, lifting it up slightly so as to peer at the rest of the town. He had obviously just passed the majority of the shops; most of what he saw now was housing and odd-job people. He noticed a school house at the end of a street, the bell at the top being rusty and unused. His sharp eyes picked out every chip in the useless item, and felt almost pity for its lack of a purpose.

He shrugged and angled himself towards the nearest tavern, dodging a large man holding a stack of boxes. "My apologies." He muttered, and moved on towards the saloon doors, casually pushing the doors open. A few eyes were raised to watch him, but the time of day meant there were few to question the presence of a stranger in town. He didn't need to show his gun this time; as he took off his hat, the well-worn face of a traveller and a 'slinger was revealed, the scars of war wounds, the stubble of someone on the move and the eyes. The eyes of a wise man, the eyes of a teacher, and the eyes....the eyes of a killer. As he surveyed the people, they looked away, scared to look upon such a man. Ageless and wise, cold and kind. This man was more than them, and he needed not a word to the barmaid as he placed a small coin upon the bar counter; she knew the drink of his kind, and gave it to him without hesitation.

He grabbed his beer quickly, with a soft smile towards the young blonde, and moved towards the corner of the room; an almost cliché act, but a tactically advantageous one, should a brawl kick off. He grinned slightly and lifted the glass to his mouth, his eyes darting about the room. No, none of these scum were what he was looking for. He had not yet met any who met his criteria. But this place felt different from everywhere else. He'd find someone here. He'd know them when he saw them; a true-blooded gunslinger. Yes, he'd meet one here for sure.

[Jake the Sage]

Removing the burning cigarette from his mouth Russel leaned back in the old tavern as the pianist banged away on the keys of his dusty instrument. He had just recently walked into town and so the first thing he had wanted was something to quench his thirst and so his feet eventually, as it most of the time does, lead him here. Smoking on his tobacco while the barkeep served those who had been in line in front of him Russel surveyed the area, people playing poker and a few just keeping to themselves. When he finally received his glass of whiskey he took it down in a single swig, slamming the glass down on the wooden table while whipping his wet lips dry, "Ah! That hit the spot!"

Finishing the cigarette Russel put it out inside the glass, getting up and heading towards the door. Before he could even reach it the barkeep shouted at him, asking if he really thought he was going to leave without paying for his drink. Russel's hands remained on his hip as he looked over at the man with very little amusement, "Eh? Yeah kinda . . ."

"W-Why you!" the barkeep began, reaching for his shotgun only to hear the gunshot ring out in the room and the bottle beside his head shattered into pieces. As the barkeep nodded in acknowledgement that he was going to let the man go someone else stood up with his gun drawn, possibly to prove a point. We'll never know. The moment he was on his feet and aiming his weapon Russel shot him dead. Next moment, his pistol held to the ceiling, he asked calmly, "So anybody know if this poor dead sonuvab*tch has a horse?"

A few minutes later Russel was riding off on a newly acquired black stallion, heading out to the next local town to see if there was anybody worth working for . . .

[Raine]

[url="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FAgYC89I73Y"]Cowboy Bebop OST - Want it Back[/url]

The slams of glass to wood rang through masses of sweat and inebriation. By this point, the amounts of people yelling indistinguishable words of cheer were outnumbered by the collapsed fools who couldn’t handle their liquor. The bartender who was so enthralled you could practically see the double dollar signs in his eyes served out the next round to the contestants who were whittled down to three; a walking muscle mass, a cocky son of a b**** who apparently thought sunglasses made you the coolest thing since the horse trough, and a beat down no-luck loser. Gaius eyed both the veiny monster and washed up rock punk and sighed. The buff thug turned to him after downing his next shot, his face was near blood red and his speech so slurred you’d have thought he was mentally handicapped; Gaius did not count out this option however, [color=#daa520]“Uh thunk yous keen beat I?”[/color]

Gaius gave his typical disappointed stare, [color=#800080]“You, think, only one of me, can, and me, though you got beat correct. We should arrange a parade for such a good job.”[/color]

A tap on his shoulder reminded him that the Sunglass Kid was still present though his speech was worse than the failed lifeguard; actually he was quite sure it was some foreign language but Gaius took it under advisement that calling someone a witch in a drunken crowd may not be taken as a joke.

It wasn’t 2 shots later the punk collapsed like a crime scene corpse and 2 after that the brute was counted down and out. A weak final cheer came from the exhausted wasted masses behind him. The bartender looked relieved; he supposed servers don’t have it too easy. Gaius flicked his index finger to knock over the winning shot. [color=#800080]“I won,” [/color]he said solemnly, [color=#800080]“make sure they pay my bill like they promised, I like to keep myself as debt free as possible”.[/color]

The bartender nodded and moved to start the clean up over the piles of unconscious bodies. Gaius rose calmly from his seat and tip toed through the spread arms and legs. I sharp push came at his chest; he had busy evading bodies to notice. A tall gentleman stood, rich but accompanied by bodyguards. [color=#800080]“Can I help you?” [/color]he asked sincerely.

The well-dressed man only smiled and shot a look to both of his accompanists, he gave a light chuckle, [color=#0000cd]“Yeah, you can but I have to ask with that much to drink, are you really okay?” [/color]

Gaius took a deep breath, [color=#800080]“Well, to be perfectly honest I’m seeing double, I have a splitting headache, and I can literally feel my liver disintegrating.”[/color]

The man gave a harder chuckle before giving a motion which apparently commanded his guards to back off, [color=#0000cd]“Umm,” [/color]he gave a look of thought, [color=#0000cd]“I’d like to let you know you slept with my girlfriend.”[/color]

[color=#800080]“Samantha?”[/color]

[color=#0000cd]“…no,”[/color] the man answered confused.

[color=#800080]“Jennifer?”[/color]

[color=#0000cd]“No.”[/color]

[color=#800080]“Abigail?”[/color]

[color=#0000cd]“NO!”[/color]

[color=#800080]“Rachel?”[/color]

[color=#0000cd]“It’s Rose, you atrocious scum! You defiled her, offended my honor, and made enemies with people you will sorely regret doing so with.”[/color] He was waving his finger at this point.

Gaius gave a deep sigh, [color=#800080]“Look sir, I am very sorry if I have done you any wrong. It’s just this is a brothel and I couldn’t tell the difference between your girlfriend and the whores,”[/color] he couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

The man’s face enflamed red, [color=#0000cd]“I-“[/color]

[color=#800080]“Besides let’s face it, if you could satisfy her anyways what would she be doing down here with all the atrocious scum except to meet the guy who could do what all the money and powerful daddies could never give yo-,”[/color] he was interrupted.

[color=#0000cd]“AGGGGHHH!!!,”[/color] the aristocrat raged.

[color=#800080]“This is gonna hurt,”[/color] a barrage of weak noble fists barraged into his weaken body which wasn’t so bad until he back off and calmed down enough to order his actually tough guards to do it. Sated by his beating, he left a bruised Gaius on the floor with everyone else. Gaius pushed him off the floor with difficulty, managing a towel from an adjacent table to wipe himself with. With a final push of strength he found himself outside in the sunlight, and sat back against the wooden wall and began to laugh and mumbled a swear as he rested.

[Super Chaos Sonic]

The stranger continued to walk until he arrived at the town bar/saloon/whatever and paused in his steps. [color=#FF0000][i]Not many other places to gather information...this will have to do. [/i][/color]he thought as he walked through the doors, even seeing the knocked out Gaius on the floor. [color=#FF0000][i]Wow...dude got knocked the hell out... [/i][/color]

As he turned his attention to head over towards the bar, he watched the bartender head towards him. "Morning sir. What are ya havin'?"

[color=#FF0000]"To drink...nothing right now. But if you can find me some steak qusadillas, I'll take that."[/color]

"Beg your pardon?" the bartender asked. "What are you, new around these parts?"

[i][url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P0NfrmoSBa0]Detective Conan OST 3[/url][/i]

[color=#FF0000]"In a manner of speaking...yes." [/color]the stranger replied with a chuckle. [color=#FF0000]"On second thought, forget the qusadillas. I came here just recently...but this place seems a bit...off. Can you tell me what's going on?"[/color]

The bartender sighed and took an empty glass, most likely left from Gaius, and began to clean it. "Well...ya see it was about a month ago. The whole town of Jenora Rock was a lot happier then, but things started going down hill when 'The Devil's Dealer' came into town one day." he paused and looked at the glass, with a sigh. "Started stealing things from the power plant, the townspeople's houses, everything. Then he set one of his men, Job Wayne in charge of the town...he's running it into the ground."

The stranger was silent as he listened to the bartender's story. He slowly stood up and tipped his hat a bit. [color=#FF0000]"Thanks for the information, sir." [/color]he turned and headed out the door, before he was stopped when the bartender grabbed his shoulder.

"Jus' what do you plan to do, son?" he asked, with a stern look on his face.

The stranger smirked and shook the hand off his shoulder, walking out the door. He grabbed his hat and tossed it off, showing his fiery red hair and emerald green eyes. [color=#FF0000]"Don't worry about me sir. I know exactly what I'm doing!" [/color]he said as he walked away from the bar/saloon/whatever.

[i]He's...just a kid! No...there's something different about him...[/i] the bartender thought, watching the strange teen leave.

[Admiral_Stalfos19]

[color=#000000]Meanwhile, in a back alleyway, Victoria May Ling, or rather "Nova" as she was nicknamed, had herself a little rendezvous with a rather shady character. A hunchback, old, certain not to have aged well in the slightest, but what this guy lacked in strength, he'd probably make up for in wits and cunning, with what that evil grin he always seemed to wear. Still, Nova wasn't intimidated; even [i]she[/i] could tower over this old hunchback, and her height was nothing special, perhaps only an inch at most taller than the average woman. Considering her height and strength advantage, she could probably beat and bully this guy down to size if she wanted to, but whether that was a good idea...[/color]

[color=#4B0082]"What do you [i]want[/i]?"[/color] [color=#000000]Nova asked spitefully.[/color]

[color=#800000]"Oh, I'm sure you know already,"[/color][color=#000000] the sly old hunchback replied, [/color][color=#800000]"I've seen your works at Warren City; perhaps you could be a useful [i]ally[/i][/color][color=#800000]..."[/color]

[color=#4B0082]"Ally? Don't you guys have [i]enough[/i] firepower?"[/color] [color=#000000]Nova questioned.[/color]

[color=#800000]"Why so judgmental?"[/color][color=#000000] the hunchback asked slyly, [/color][color=#800000]"[i]I've[/i] not the chance to enlighten you."[/color]

[color=#4b0082]"Hmph... go on,"[/color][color=#000000] Nova said in a tone that implied she'd likely be disinterested anyway, arms folded.[/color]

[TotalObelisk]

A frown crossed Jericho’s face as she examined the wall of posters, all of them displaying various bounties for various people, ranging from smaller numbers to numbers so high she had to wonder just what they’d done to earn them that reputation. Since leaving home Jericho had pretty much made her living hunting bounties, tending to stick to the smaller ones as she was attempting to remain under the radar, now however she was starting to run low on money. A few passers-by gave the girl cautious looks, no doubt for the three polished silver rifle-like weapons strapped to her back, though Jericho herself seemed oblivious to this.

A commotion behind her caught Jericho’s attention and she turned about to see a man walking through the crowd knocking people aside as he went. When a few of them protested he revealed something beneath his coat that Jericho couldn’t see but was no doubt enough to convince the men not to argue any further. A slight grin crossed Jericho’s face, she hadn’t seen what the man had showed them but she recognized the movement and the way he walked.

She made to follow the man as he finally escaped the crowd and headed towards one of the town taverns. Jericho was about to enter herself when she spotted something on the wall beside the door, a wanted poster showing a boy who couldn’t be any older than 19 with a bounty of $$50,000,000,000. Jericho was caught somewhere between being impressed and surprised.

[b]“The ‘ell’d a kid his age do t’get a bounty that high,”[/b] she wondered aloud, ignoring the fact that she herself was only a few years older [b]“Hm, Tyson "Red Blaze" Hawks. Why’s everyone gotta get ‘emselves a nickname these days.”[/b]

Shrugging this off she entered the tavern, having lost sight of the gunslinger, though a quick scan of the room revealed him taking a spot in the corner with a drink. Jericho walked swiftly to the bar and sat down, giving the barkeeper a broad grin.

[b]“Same as always, and put it on mah tab,”[/b] she said brightly without a moment’s hesitation.

The barkeeper however gave her a dark look in contrast to her cheery smile.

[b]“Your tab is overdue,”[/b] he said [b]“You got any money to pay with yet?”[/b]

[b]“Sorta,”[/b] Jericho dodged the question [b]“Kinda…Okay no, but I could tell ya a bedtime story if ya like?”[/b]

Unfortunately the barkeeper was not amused and merely glared at her.

[b]“You’ve got a week to pay me then you’re cleaning dishes,”[/b] he replied and then proceeded to ignore her.

[b]“Well that coulda gone better,”[/b] Jericho sighed, taking a seat at one of the empty tables, leaning her guns against her chair and resting both elbows on the table.

[ListenToLife]

The dusty air around him rippled as Desmond chuckled, dust particles swirling in the solemn beam of sunlight hitting his table; entering through a crack in the wall. He knew this place was special. He had just known it. The darkness hid nothing from him, and sure enough, the people he was looking for were here. How he knew that they were the people he wanted; well, he didn't really know. But if you're on the road as much as he was, you just knew.

He lifted the cold glass to his lips for the last time, draining the last drop of the liquor before moving it to the edge of the table, obviously in need of cleaning. He then moved to grab his hat, placing the Stetson back on top of his dark mop of hair once again; draping his visage in shadows once more. He then moved to stand up, pushing himself up from the table and away from the rickety wooden chair, hearing an irritating creak as he rose. He sighed and ignored it, instead turning towards the bar yet again.

The man he had initially shown interest in had left already, but he had mentioned something. Well, someone. Someone that intrigued him. Desmond rested his left arm upon the counter, a few feet away from Jericho, with his right hand dangling; always thinking about what could happen, he was - his right arm hanging directly over his gun, ready to fire at a moment's notice. Jericho was still in his sights, and he could easily concentrate upon the door, but he still managed to address the male bartender the Red-haired boy had been conversing with.

"Interesting lad, eh? The one who just left." Desmond asked, his gruff voice containing hints of wisdom, kindness and cruelty in equal measures. The ages of life seemed to merely drift through his lips, and the cold sharpness of his voice could almost freeze the air in front of him. And yet, warmth resided there as well. Forgotten love, and a distant heart. He sighed and gazed towards the door for a moment, before turning back to the barkeep. "I heard you mention 'The Devil's Dealer'. What business does that kind of man have in Jenora Rock?"

The barkeep glanced warily at the door, as if trying to recall the face of the boy. He shook his head though, dispelling the ghosts of doubts that the Gunslinger before him had planted, shakily staring into the man's eyes. "How should I know? I'm a mere bartender. All I know is what I told that kid. That man's been stealing stuff from the town, and because his guy's in charge, there aint a damn thing we can do about it." The barkeep answered, a bead of sweat running down his face as he again glanced at the door.

"That's all I needed to know." Desmond answered, smiling calmly. He placed another two coins on the counter of the table, one for the information and one for something else. He glanced quickly sideways, watching Jericho closely. "Buy that woman a drink for me." He added, nodding his head over to the table where Jericho was sitting. He then lowered his Stetson again, nodded a farewell to the bartender and turned away from the counter, out into the open sunshine once again. He was sure the drink would peek the girl's curiousity, and he'd deal with her later. All that he needed now was to find that guy. And there he was, just down the street! Not wanted to attract unwanted attention, Desmond merely followed for now, keeping a few paces behind the boy.

The bartender looked down at the coins with confusion, but eventually shrugged and placed them in his pocket, before setting himself to do as he was bade; rustle up a drink for the lady at the table. He did so quickly, and merely set it down in front of Jericho, muttering "That man sent it." before turning back to the bar.

[Super Chaos Sonic]

[quote name='DaWeirdGuy' timestamp='1350326873' post='6045045']
"That's all I needed to know." Desmond answered, smiling calmly. He placed another two coins on the counter of the table, one for the information and one for something else. He glanced quickly sideways, watching Jericho closely. "Buy that woman a drink for me." He added, nodding his head over to the table where Jericho was sitting. He then lowered his Stetson again, nodded a farewell to the bartender and turned away from the counter, out into the open sunshine once again. He was sure the drink would peek the girl's curiousity, and he'd deal with her later. All that he needed now was to find that guy. And there he was, just down the street! Not wanted to attract unwanted attention, Desmond merely followed for now, keeping a few paces behind the boy.[/quote]

[color=#FF0000][i]Job Wayne...hmm...he's not the one I was actually looking for. [/i][/color]the red-haired stranger thought. He placed his hands in his pockets, as he sighed, still thinking of everything he was told in the bar. [color=#FF0000][i]So I came here on a wild goose chase...or...or maybe not. I could definitely turn this around to work for my advantage![/i][/color] Now with a slight smirk on his face, he was determined that this wasn't a goose chase after all...no far from it!

Though as he kept walking, something didn't feel right. He stopped, as he heard the footsteps of the people around him. He walked forward again, still feeling uneasy. [i]Someone [/i]was following him...that much he knew for certain. The stranger moved a bit quicker as he passed a nice sized crowd, ducking through an alley. He hid himself a bit, before hearing the steps again. He saw a man walk past his location, which is when he slowly stood up and drew his white gun: Angelo.

[i][url="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cPBE2uFU-Sc"]Trigun OST - Big Bluff[/url][/i]

[color=#FF0000]"Alright you...don't move...unless you want a bullet in your back." [/color]the stranger said, loading the gun, clicking the firing pin. [color=#FF0000]"Slowly turn around...and tell me who the hell you are and why you were[/color]

[ListenToLife]

"W-what are you talking a-about?"
The gun was pointed at a young lad's head, roughly 16, barely a hair on his chin. He seemed like no threat what-so-ever; he didn't even carry a gun. His mouth wimpered as he heard the click of a firing pin, and he closed his eyes to pray. He then heard the click of a second firing pin, and his bright blue eyes shot open, confused. He dared not turn around, but he was sure that two firing pins wasn't right.

And sure enough, it wasn't the red-haired stranger that had pulled the second pin. And yet, there was no gun pointed at the stranger; only a middle aged man with stubble and a Stetson almost identical to the boy's, his overcoat merely pulled back to reveal a leather belt, upon which laid a single holster. And in that holster, a well-polished revolver; highly powerful from the look. Desmond's hand merely rest upon the sandelwood grips of the gun, his left hand instead lifting his Stetson up at the left side, revealing one of his sharp green eyes, and stared the stranger down.

"Why was I followin' you?" Desmond asked, motioning for the boy to leave. He did so without hesitation, running away in the direction of the nearest church; ignoring whatever menial task he had been entrusted with. "Why, I was just interested, is all." Desmond's cold eyes looked the teen up and down; a mere boy, out in the wilderness, with a loaded gun. He reminded him of himself in his younger days, obviously out for a fight.

"Your eyes are cold. The cold of a killer." The gunslinger noted, lifting his eyes back to meet the strangers. They reached a similar height, allowing Desmond to stare straight and true; boring into the eyes of the boy. Etching his face in memory. "Just like my, I wager. Except young. Now, what I wanted to know..." Desmond stated, his voice lowered. He moved his vision to the clock tower across the street, watching the hands slowly tick away. "...is what someone so young as yourself is doing so far from home."

Desmond chuckled and turned his gaze back towards the boy before him. His left arm lowered and hung limp at his side, waiting to attempt a disarment if needed. "The only answer is 'the Devil's Dealer', of course. I heard you at the bar." Desmond smiled and offered his hand out to the lad. "The name's Desmond Certain if you're interested. I can help you with this dealer, if you like. If not, we're just going to get in each other's way." He then chuckled and removed his right hand from his holster and patted the leather belt twice, before raising his Stetson so it revealed both his eyes. They grew cold and distant as he uttered the last few lines. "And no matter how fast you think you are boy; I'd bet I'm faster."

[Jake the Sage]

Having ridden off on his newly acquired black stallion, Russel headed out to the next local town. Walking up on foot in the beating high noon sun those who lived on the outskirts of town saw him with a vulture slowly gliding behind him. When he passed by he could hear them asking if he was alright and wondering where he was from; peering to the right he called back, “Horse gave out a few miles back . . . and yes I am good.”

Now a few hours later Russel was at the next logical place he could be found- the local tavern. Walking in just as a red haired boy brushed past him he paid the young’un no mind. Boys will be stupid after all. Besides, his mind was more focused on getting some more whiskey in him. He was almost sober now. He hated being sober. Walking into the tavern he could see, unlike the last one, it was packed and very . . . incredibly loud: so loud it hurt his ears.

“Whiskey,” he said to the waitress as he sat down in the creaky, dust covered hair, pulling his hat down so he could meditate a bit; Russel enjoyed meditating, helped block out the noise ‘round him and calmed his nerves. As he waited, and waited, and waited some more his ears picked up the sound of a woman’s voice, “Sorta, kinda . . . okay no, but I could tell ya a bedtime story if ya like?”

Russel’s face got a wide grin, thankfully hidden underneath the brim of his hat, and he though he couldn’t see the barkeeper’s face he had a good idea on what it looked like: not amused to say the least. The tone of the man’s voice confirmed this. Russel was snapped away from eavesdropping when the waitress returned with his bottle. Taking it he sipped the bottle of whiskey and sighed, “Much better . . .”

“Here,” he flipped her three coins and returned to sipping his alcohol. The sound of someone else’s voice catches his attention; this time it was a male voice. He was speaking ‘interesting lad, eh? The one who just left . . .’ This caught Russel’s interest, figuring it must’ve been the red-headed man he ran into; no one else had left since then. Paying attention to their conversation he made a mental note of every single word exchanged between the two. ‘The Devil’s Dealer’. ‘Jenora Rock’. ‘Man's been stealing stuff from the town’. ‘His guy's in charge’. It just kept getting better and better. Now unable to hide his smile Russel finished his whiskey and set it on the table, hiking his legs up on top of the table.

“Alright you . . . don't move . . . unless you want a bullet in your back!” ‘Red Blaze’ said, loading the gun, clicking the firing pin, “Slowly turn around . . . and tell me who the Hell you are and why you were.”

Russel was passing by when those words were said, seeing that the red-haired man from before or another man was about get filled with lead. He didn’t care honestly, instead he was heading to the Mayor’s office, planning on heading to meet the man underneath the ‘Devil’s Dealer’.

[Admiral_Stalfos19]

[color=#000000]The hunchback chuckled evilly as he concocted his offer in his mind. [i]He[/i] knew Nova all too well, and he knew exactly what she wanted, and what she [i]needed[/i][/color][color=#000000].[/color]

[color=#800000]"Well, for starters, two bars of [i]pure[/i] gold bullion,"[/color][color=#000000] he stated, holding out the bars in front of Nova, [/color][color=#800000]"On top of that, your entire rap sheet will be rendered null and void. Law enforcement will be off your back for all eternity, and even if you were to get yourself into another blood frenzy, they'd be forced to turn a [i]blind[/i] eye..."[/color]

[color=#000000]Nova's eyes widened, and she was rendered speechless. [i]That[/i] was the kind of offer she [i]dreamed[/i] of; she [i]certainly[/i] couldn't refuse anything like it. But at the same time, she [i]had[/i] to. Taking it up meant working for 'The Devil's Dealer' himself, and that meant drilling herself even [i]further[/i] to the ground than Nova had already [i]done[/i]. Those bars of gold bullion were tempting however. Making up her mind, Nova snatched the two bars from the hunchback.[/color]

[color=#4B0082]"I'll [i]take[/i] your damned gold!"[/color][color=#000000] Nova spat, [/color][color=#4B0082]"But I'm not joining your cause..."[/color]

[color=#800000]"I see..."[/color][color=#000000] the hunchback replied in a disappointed tone, [/color][color=#800000]"Then we settle this with a stand-off,"[/color]

[color=#000000]He pointed his revolver at Nova's chest, but not before she in turn aimed Vastatio right at the crown of his skull.[/color]

[Super Chaos Sonic]

[quote name='DaWeirdGuy' timestamp='1350341414' post='6045235']
"W-what are you talking a-about?"
The gun was pointed at a young lad's head, roughly 16, barely a hair on his chin. He seemed like no threat what-so-ever; he didn't even carry a gun. His mouth wimpered as he heard the click of a firing pin, and he closed his eyes to pray. He then heard the click of a second firing pin, and his bright blue eyes shot open, confused. He dared not turn around, but he was sure that two firing pins wasn't right.

And sure enough, it wasn't the red-haired stranger that had pulled the second pin. And yet, there was no gun pointed at the stranger; only a middle aged man with stubble and a Stetson almost identical to the boy's, his overcoat merely pulled back to reveal a leather belt, upon which laid a single holster. And in that holster, a well-polished revolver; highly powerful from the look. Desmond's hand merely rest upon the sandelwood grips of the gun, his left hand instead lifting his Stetson up at the left side, revealing one of his sharp green eyes, and stared the stranger down.

"Why was I followin' you?" Desmond asked, motioning for the boy to leave. He did so without hesitation, running away in the direction of the nearest church; ignoring whatever menial task he had been entrusted with. "Why, I was just interested, is all." Desmond's cold eyes looked the teen up and down; a mere boy, out in the wilderness, with a loaded gun. He reminded him of himself in his younger days, obviously out for a fight.

"Your eyes are cold. The cold of a killer." The gunslinger noted, lifting his eyes back to meet the strangers. They reached a similar height, allowing Desmond to stare straight and true; boring into the eyes of the boy. Etching his face in memory. "Just like my, I wager. Except young. Now, what I wanted to know..." Desmond stated, his voice lowered. He moved his vision to the clock tower across the street, watching the hands slowly tick away. "...is what someone so young as yourself is doing so far from home."

Desmond chuckled and turned his gaze back towards the boy before him. His left arm lowered and hung limp at his side, waiting to attempt a disarment if needed. "The only answer is 'the Devil's Dealer', of course. I heard you at the bar." Desmond smiled and offered his hand out to the lad. "The name's Desmond Certain if you're interested. I can help you with this dealer, if you like. If not, we're just going to get in each other's way." He then chuckled and removed his right hand from his holster and patted the leather belt twice, before raising his Stetson so it revealed both his eyes. They grew cold and distant as he uttered the last few lines. "And no matter how fast you think you are boy; I'd bet I'm faster."
[/quote]

The stranger didn't move for quite sometime. But after a few seconds, he put Angelo back in his holster with a sigh. [color=#FF0000]"Next time...just approach me and not decide to follow me like a stalker. Honestly I get enough people following me as it is..." [/color]he said as he ran his hand through his hair. [color=#FF0000]"And you being faster Desmond? Then you honestly don't know me very well."[/color]

The stranger took the trench-coat off and tossed it aside, showing his normal outfit and the three guns on his side: twin pistols 'Angelo & Diablo' and a lone gun 'Scarlet'. He began to chuckle and rub his nose with his thumb. [color=#FF0000]"Don't wanna brag, but I have done a lot better than most gunmen in different situations. Angelo & Diablo here have gotten me out of my of problems. Oh wait! I never properly introduced myself..." [/color]the stranger said, as he held his hand in front of Desmond. Though with the next sentence, he said sternly in a whisper:

[color=#FF0000][i]"The name's Tyson 'Red Blaze' Hawks! The descendant of Baxter Rockwell."[/i][/color]

[ListenToLife]

Desmond received the hand warmly, his firm grip enveloping the hand of Tyler Hawks. He smiled and studied the boy again, in a different light. He did look a lot like the descriptions he had heard of Rockwell. The bright red hair was a dead give-away. And the eyes; definitely the eyes of a killer. Desmond had no doubt that this was a capable man, far too mature for his age. But experience; no, this boy did not have the experience yet. He had not seen nearly enough. To be confident in his skills was common for a teen, but with such coldness. It was intriguing, to say the least.

"There was no need for me to run and catch up with you. And besides, there's no better way to size up a person than to see them draw." Desmond explained, chuckling as he dropped his coat beside him, covering his own gun once again. The leather belt vanished underneath his rugged, brown overcoat, and his hands did similarly as he released Tyson's own; disappearing into the large pockets of his jacket. One came out with a packet of cigars, and he offered one out to Tyson. Regardless of the reaction, he pocketted the packet again, and lit his own Cigar, and responded to Tyson's confidence.

"First thing you need to know about me boy, is that I'm a hypocrite." He started, chuckling slightly as he leaned his back against the alley wall. "The second, is that I believe you should never bet. I have years behind me boy; over 40 years out in the wilderness, practising with a gun everyday. I've brought in some of the fastest shooters in the land. With but a few scratches." Desmond sighed at this point, glancing up towards the clouds in the sky. "I dont doubt your skill though. I can see that you are capable. Shall we resolve not to 'prove our point', so to speak?" He offered, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, either way, and proceeded to turn towards the entrance of the alley. A curious man walked had walked by a few moments before. Desmond had been, of course, too busy to really focus at that point; but he had none-the-less noticed the man. And, yet again, he felt that feeling. Just as he had when he had seen the Red-haired boy enter and then exit the bar; just as he had seen when he laid eyes upon the young girl.

"Want to go check out this Job Wayne? He seems to be connected to the dealer, and it seems he's already gathered some interest." Desmond suggested, nodding pointedly towards the man who had just walked past; who seemed to be aiming for the town-hall; no doubt to 'see the mayor'.

[Admiral_Stalfos19]

[color=#000000]A shotgun blast could be heard just outside the bar. (I'll just hazard a guess here and assume that's where everyone is.) The barkeeper stopped whatever it was he was doing and began to reach under the bar for his [i]own[/i] shotgun, only to catch Nova in the corner of his eye, as she slammed the door to the back entrance open. A look of pure [i]venom[/i] could be seen in[/color][color=#000000] her eyes as she scanned the area. Putting two and two [/color][color=#000000]together, the barkeeper spoke, shifting his hands from underneath to on top of the the bar.[/color]

"So much for laying low..."[color=#000000] he scoffed quietly, this [i]immediately[/i] grabbing Nova's attention and managing to soften her glare[/color].

[color=#4b0082]"How did you...?"[/color][color=#000000] Nova was about to ask.[/color]

"I saw you at the gunsmith the other day,"[color=#000000] the barkeeper answered, intervening her in the process, [/color]"You seemed nervous; you could tell by the sound of your voice,"

[color=#000000]He returned to what he was doing, as Nova entered the bar and took a seat. She seemed depressed by... [i]something[/i]. Perhaps she had some sense of guilt over what she had done over the years, or maybe it was just a phase. Whatever it was, Nova seemed to have snapped out of it for a bit when she saw the bounty figure on a wanted poster for a guy by the name of Tyson "Red Blaze" Hawks, this figure of which seemed to offend her somehow.[/color]

[color=#4B0082]"Tch, bullshit!"[/color][color=#000000] she spat[/color][color=#000000], [/color][color=#4b0082]"[i]I[/i] don't even have that high a bounty and I turned Warren City into a [i]ghost[/i] town! That [i]must[/i] be a misprint or something..."[/color]

[Jake the Sage]

Strolling at a leisurely pace, believing there was no reason to go any faster than he was already going. Heading through town he would catch the occasional glance from people that one would expect from someone seeing a new face pass-by. He really didn’t pay attention to these kinds of stares since they are human nature, but when their eyes lingered for a tad too long he took notice of them; for their sake no one in this town seemed to stare at him long enough to warrant a beating. Now standing in front of the mayor’s building Russel could see two big burly dark skinned men, arms crossed, one with a cigarette in his mouth, and both openly displaying their weapons to the entire populace. [i]“Meant to be intimidating obviously,”[/i] Russel thought to himself standing on the other side of the street, which happened to be the town’s bank, watching them; they were surveying the area around them and mildly chit-chatting. They were so lax because no one was crazy enough to stand up to them in a gunfight.

“Luckily I ain’t just a gunman,” he mused to himself, though in a low mumble only someone right beside him would hear, digging into his pockets. Pulling out a copper coin from his pocket he flipped it into the air, catching it before setting his aim to one of the inn rooms above. With a flick of his finger the copper coin flew like a bullet- threw the window and through the sniper’s skull. The man fell from the window onto the streets below causing people to scream when he fell beside them, one woman even fainted at the mere sight of blood: though you’ll have to forgive her, it was a [i]lot[/i] of blood. When the two guards ran to see what had happened to their fellow guard Russel waited a few minutes and, sure enough, the two guards ran back inside to warn the mayor. Taking out a cigarette he pulled his hat down, hoisted his shirt collar tighter around his neck, and waited . . .

[Super Chaos Sonic]

[quote name='DaWeirdGuy' timestamp='1350346077' post='6045304']
Desmond received the hand warmly, his firm grip enveloping the hand of Tyler Hawks. He smiled and studied the boy again, in a different light. He did look a lot like the descriptions he had heard of Rockwell. The bright red hair was a dead give-away. And the eyes; definitely the eyes of a killer. Desmond had no doubt that this was a capable man, far too mature for his age. But experience; no, this boy did not have the experience yet. He had not seen nearly enough. To be confident in his skills was common for a teen, but with such coldness. It was intriguing, to say the least.

"There was no need for me to run and catch up with you. And besides, there's no better way to size up a person than to see them draw." Desmond explained, chuckling as he dropped his coat beside him, covering his own gun once again. The leather belt vanished underneath his rugged, brown overcoat, and his hands did similarly as he released Tyson's own; disappearing into the large pockets of his jacket. One came out with a packet of cigars, and he offered one out to Tyson. Regardless of the reaction, he pocketted the packet again, and lit his own Cigar, and responded to Tyson's confidence.

"First thing you need to know about me boy, is that I'm a hypocrite." He started, chuckling slightly as he leaned his back against the alley wall. "The second, is that I believe you should never bet. I have years behind me boy; over 40 years out in the wilderness, practising with a gun everyday. I've brought in some of the fastest shooters in the land. With but a few scratches." Desmond sighed at this point, glancing up towards the clouds in the sky. "I dont doubt your skill though. I can see that you are capable. Shall we resolve not to 'prove our point', so to speak?" He offered, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, either way, and proceeded to turn towards the entrance of the alley. A curious man walked had walked by a few moments before. Desmond had been, of course, too busy to really focus at that point; but he had none-the-less noticed the man. And, yet again, he felt that feeling. Just as he had when he had seen the Red-haired boy enter and then exit the bar; just as he had seen when he laid eyes upon the young girl.

"Want to go check out this Job Wayne? He seems to be connected to the dealer, and it seems he's already gathered some interest." Desmond suggested, nodding pointedly towards the man who had just walked past; who seemed to be aiming for the town-hall; no doubt to 'see the mayor'.
[/quote]

[color=#FF0000]"He's not that much of a connection..." [/color]Tyson replied, placing his hands in his pockets. [color=#FF0000]"He's just the puppet figure. Honestly, the Dealer put him in charge here because he was the low man on the totem pole...and he thought this place was a low life town." [/color]He looked back at Desmond and then chuckled a bit. [color=#FF0000]"And he isn't even in city hall..."[/color] Tyson smiled and nodded, at Desmond who had a look of disbelief. He nodded again and pulled out a small paper that had some writing on it.

[color=#FF0000]"Its something my informant sent me. He said that the [b][i]REAL[/i][/b] person I'm looking for would arrive here...but only after I take care of someone here." [/color]he said, basically summarizing what the paper said. [color=#FF0000]"I didn't know who that someone was...until now...Job Wayne. About this time he's walking around the town incognito...stirring up trouble while his goons stay in city hall." [/color]Tyson looked sternly at Desmond and smirked a little. This guy had something...he couldn't tell if it was bravery or guts...or maybe insanity...but he was something else. [color=#FF0000]"I could use the help, Desmond. But if your gonna follow me...two things. One: Keep the fact that I told you my family's heritage a secret. Two: When I see my targets...you stay out of my way..."[/color]

=Meanwhile at City Hall=
(Give something for Jake to do XD)

The other goons ran outside to check on their sniper friend. He was dead...and they were freakin' the hell out! They went running and yelling back into the building.

"Are you serious?! One guy took out our best sniper??" the lead goon wearing a red bandanna over his head. "You must be f***in' kiddin' me!!"

The men shook their heads frantically. "We ain't! This guy is crazy psycho! W-We gotta warn the boss!" But when they said this, they were met with a boot kick to the face.

"WHY?? Just so he can run and maybe this guy kill him? NO! We're gonna stop him right here and now..." he yelled, loading his rifle, as stomped outside along with the scared bunch of men.

[Raine]

His eyelids felt heavy. Gaius felt along his side, it seemed the bruises were just so, there no concern for proper medical treatment. A grunt followed with pushing himself up to his feet, he was alright just facing the back end of a hangover. The sun was beating rather harshly but nothing too uncommon, he just hoped it didn’t mess too much with his complexion. Placing one hand on the swinging door to the boor and other comforting his head, his vision caught wind of a rather serious conversation taking place inside with hair so red it could be the punch line to some poorly executed joke. Gaius’s mental connection hit; serious means the topic is serious, serious topics include death, death is something he’d like to avoid. Staggering back away from the door, he heard a faint scream in the distance. [color=#800080]“Huh,”[/color] he sighed, as much as he disliked serious discussions screams weren’t exactly indicators for sunshine and rainbows.

The snap of metal clip locking into his pistol rung, both of his hands cleaning the shaft and hammer. Somehow he had talked himself in a bit of hero time, a bad habit. [color=#800080]“Sure, run towards the bullets and general disturbances of the peace. No, come on it’ll be fun they said. Yeah, buy the house shots they said. Bleeding sand dwellers the lot of them I say, now I have no choice by to refill my wallet.[/color]” Gaius kept talking to himself as he wiped his town over the parts of his weapon walking towards the town center.

Gaius sneaked and dove into an empty store front facing the town plaza. He ducked behind a window peeking out only enough to give him sight of the area and City Hall. It seemed troop movement of the gang had already taken place, they were mobilizing quickly. Gaius took a deep breath. Focusing, his mediation cleared his mind. His hands tightened over the grip of his pistol, his goal in sight, his concentration narrow. [color=#800080]“1,”[/color] he mumbled his heart beat steady.

[color=#800080]“2,”[/color] his finger stopped shaking over the trigger.

[color=#800080]“3,” [/color]in a single motion Gaius hurled himself through the open window, granting him quick notice by surrounding patrols. His hand rose with his pistol before moving to his side. Gaius dropped his pistol into the dirt and placed both his hands into the air, [color=#800080]“I surrender.”[/color]

That’s the story how Gaius ended up in the City Hall single prison cell.

[TotalObelisk]

Jericho continued to watch the man out of the corner of her eye as he walked up to the counter and began talking to the bartender, she was able to hear bits of their conversation as the man mentioned something about a boy who was in the bar earlier. As the conversation continued she heard the man mention ‘the Devil’s Dealer’ and her face momentarily froze, in truth she had no idea if they really were looking for her but in a land like this you could never be too careful. She listened intently to the rest of their conversation until the man turned to leave. Jericho watched him go, considering whether or not to follow him before the bartender placed a drink in front of her, hearing him mutter that the man had bought it for her.

This naturally raised an eyebrow from Jericho, as the man had obviously noticed her (probably due to the rather loud if brief conversation she had with the bartender earlier) but didn’t seem all that bothered, going so far as to buy her a drink. Jericho was now even more curious about the man and would have turned to follow him again, but wasn’t about to pass up a free drink, that would just be rude!

About halfway through her drink the bar suddenly jumped at the sound of a shotgun being fired, Jericho however merely glanced over when the back door was kicked open by another woman who did not appear to be in a very good mood. Jericho watched her curiously as she spotted the poster for ‘Red Blaze’ and apparently went nuts over it, announcing to the whole bar that she’d killed an entire town and still didn’t have as high a bounty as he did. Jericho noticed a few of the other occupants muttering to themselves, some no doubt entertaining the idea of taking the woman in themselves.

[b]“Ah think ya might’ve knocked a screw o’two loose in there,”[/b] Jericho called across to the woman, tapping her own head to get her point across [b]“Ain’t many people’d announce they did cold blooded genocide to room full’a armed and probably broke people.”[/b]

Jericho wasn’t one to talk; she was armed to the teeth and about as broke as everybody else.

[b]“Ah’d buy ya a drink bit Ah ain’t exactly a high roller myself,”[/b] she grinned broadly, curious to see how the woman would react.

[Admiral_Stalfos19]

[color=#000000]Nova heard some of these mutterings faintly, and smirked to herself equally as faint. Entertaining a thought was one thing, but so much as attempting one's hand was a whole other beast in itself. Still, Nova [i]liked[/i] this naivete of the general saloon community; it was certainly a load of her back compared to everyone squirming [i]away[/i] from her like in Warren City. But that new kid on the block that was Red Blaze was still getting on Nova's nerves; having more money on his head and all.[/color]

[color=#000000]That's when this other chick decided to converse with Nova from out of nowhere. Nova, however, merely returned what appeared to be a look of hatred in her eyes, but considering the two of them met for the first time in their lives, it was hard to put one's finger on [i]why[/i] exactly... until now.[/color]

[color=#4b0082]"Are you [i]trying[/i] to destroy the English language as we know it?"[/color][color=#000000] Nova asked spitefully[/color]

[ListenToLife]

"Contradictions befuzzle the mind, young [s]padawan[/s] gunslinger. If you need to get Job Wayne, why are you holding us back?" Desmond asked, raising a single eyebrow beneath his low brimmed Stetson. He shrugged and chuckled, turning back to the street, his eyes once again following the strange man he had seen before. Even a faint shotgun blast didn't phase him as he concentrated, watching with interest as the man darted into an alleyway, out of Desmond's view. But, the Gunslinger wasn't stupid; he wasn't about to look away. And damn good he didn't, for a small object seemed to fly through the air at that point, the sun glinting off of it. It definitely wasn't a bullet as well - no gunshot had gone off. [i]Intriguing. [/i]

"Besides, you cant tell me to stay out of your way." Demsmond pointed out, nodding his head towards the body that was now laying on the sandy ground outside the town hall, blood pouring from his skull. People were stampeding now; panic spreading through the small town like a tidal wave, and many screams pierced the air, and even an occasional fainting occured. "I'm already in your way; and there's a sharpshooter here that's way ahead of you."

Desmond chuckled and slowly turned his head around the corner, watching the two guards who had been standing at the door. They seemed to check on the body - though it was obvious he was dead - then turn and run indoors. Perfect oppurtunity to move. He flicked the cigar to the floor, sighed and turned to Tyson. "You gonna follow?" He asked rhetorically, before rushing out of cover.

He kept to the side of the street, in the shade by the buildings. It was still warm though, and a single bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face. And yet, it seemed to have little effect on the man himself, and he boots pounded the floor just as hard anyway. He turned into the next alley quickly, appeared to have merely melded into the nearby wall if seen from behind, and was instantly next to Rusell.
"How are you doing, sharp-shooter?" Desmond asked, inferring that he had seen the little trick. He then proceeded to check back at the town hall, watching as a group of guards exited the building, rifles in their hands. "Want some assistance?"

[TotalObelisk]

Jericho let out a loud snigger that turned a few heads in her direction before giving the woman a broad grin, apparently either completely oblivious to the insult or simply unphased by it.

[b]"Heh, life'd be boring if everyone spoke the same,"[/b] she replied cheerfully [b]"Sides, English is the language that beats other languages up for their luch money, so I reckon it deserves a few hits itself."[/b]

She finished off the rest of her drink, still chuckling under her breath when she set it back down. She then noticed a commotion beginning outside, soon followed by people rushing back and forth, strange since Jericho hadn't heard any gunshots that could cause it. She stood up from her table, taking up her three guns and slinging them over her back again before hopping out of the door in three strides.

Looking up and down the street she spotted the commotion coming from somewhere around the town hall and quickly blended into the crowd either pushing to see what had happened or getting away from it as best they could. After a long minute of pushing the crowd began to thin out and Jericho was able to make out what was going on, a man was lying on the floor in a puddle of blood, a rifle by his side, apparently having fallen from a window or something. Just as she had registered all of these a group of men came out of the front doors of the town hall each carrying shotguns and rifles and looking prepared for trouble.

[b]"Well, this sure ain't gonna end well,"[/b] Jericho muttered aloud, ducking behind a small pile of crates to observe the scene from relative safety [b]"Still, least today ain't gonna be boring no more."[/b]

She grinned and lifted one of her customized rifles from the holder on her back, making sure it was loaded and preparing for a shootout.

[Jake the Sage]

Russel had been waiting patiently, taking an occasionally sip of whiskey when he had finished his cigarette, and didn’t even turn when he heard someone speaking too him. ‘How are you doing, sharp-shooter?’ someone said walking up beside him. Not even glancing his direction Russel instead used his peripheral vision to examine the newcomer, a male with an overcoat and obvious dead eyes: Russel would have the same eyes if not for the alcohol running throughout his body, so instead whenever anyone would look him in the eye they’d just see a drunkard. Hiccuping he took a step forward, stumbling a bit before catching himself, just when the guards emerged from the town hall armed to the teeth with everything from pistols to a shotgun. [i]"Took them long enough to get their pants on,”[/i] Russel thought to himself lifting the bottle to his lips and shakily walking forward: a plain drunken walk.

“Everyone get back!” The leader of the guardsmen barked to the crowd and, when no one moved as fast as he wanted them too, shot into the air. The mixture of excited screams and shuffling erupted as the crowd finally moved away from the corpse. Walking over towards the dead man the lead guard, Rockefeller, moved the empty-brained head to one side then the other with the tip of his boot before setting it back down underneath him. Leaning down he wiped his boots clean before getting back up, turning to the crowd, “The person who done did this better step forward now, or else when we catch that sonuvab*tch he’ll be hanged after being interrogated. If anybody saw anything you better speak up now and maybe you will get some payment for your cooperation.”

Payment? Ha! Just the lawman’s way of saying he wanted someone to sell another person out for coin; even then it would not be worth it, Hell you’d be lucky to get a copper coin for saving the mayor’s life from these men. But that was just what Russel was expecting Rockefeller to say as he stumbled up and slammed against him, speaking loudly and smelling strongly of whiskey, “I-I’s saw sumthun’ lawman! I did . . .

“Get back drunk,” Rockefeller shouted striking Russel with the butt of his pistol, knocking him to the dirt and causing his head to begin bleeding. Shouting loudly and almost in tears Russel rolled over, grabbing his head before pointing at the crowd, “I’s saw who did it! Her! Her lawman! She shot yewr fella lawman!”

When Rockefeller looked up he, of course, saw what Russel wanted him too see: Jericho hunkered down behind a small pile of crates with a loaded customized rifle. Seeing the rifle, something that could easily be used to snipe his men, Rockefeller’s blood boiled and without a second thought he aimed his pistol at her, firing a shot which just barely struck above her head, then shouted, “Arrest that wh*re! I want her dead or alive!!!”

In a burst of action the lawmen began pulling out their pistols to shoot or running towards Jericho to arrest her before she even got a shot off. Russel, on the other hand, managed to get up and through the blood filling his eyes grabbed Rockefeller by the shoulder to turn him where he wanted him to be facing; once again Russel shouted and pointed, “Lawman! Another! He armed too! I’s be thinkin’ he with yewr murderess!”

Of course this time Russel was pointing at the man who had spoken to him before Rockefeller even came out with his men; he didn’t know the man’s name, but since he had possibly seen his technique Russel figured to use the lawmen to tie loose ends. Rockefeller, with a hound-like one track mind most law officials possess, this is why they’re hired because they can focus on one thing and get it done, but then again made them easy to manipulate, pointed his pistol at Desmond and shouted for him to put his hands in the air. [i]“Now that everyone is too busy to notice me,”[/i] Russel thought taking another swig of whiskey and stumbled through the chaos towards the town hall, pulling out the City Key he had pick pocketed from Rockefeller the very moment he crashed into him the first time. Spinning it around his index finger once then twice he clenched it in his closed fist and smirked . . .

[Super Chaos Sonic]

Tyson wanted to bash the living daylights out of Desmond for saying that. [color=#FF0000][i]He has NO idea what I'm doing... [/i][/color]he thought, his teeth gritting wildly. Before he could say anything, Desmond walked off to try and help another guy: Russel. That's where things got out of hand.

[b][i]“I’s saw who did it! Her! Her lawman! She shot yewr fella lawman!”[/i][/b] Tyson heard Russel say, pointing right at a woman: Jericho. Within a matter of minutes, Rockefeller arrested her, but that wasn't the half of it. [i][b]“Lawman! Another! He armed too! I’s be thinkin’ he with yewr murderess!”[/b][/i] This time, Russel was mentioning Desmond.

[color=#FF0000][i]That lyin' sonofa-.... [/i][/color]Tyson clenched his fists, as he just watched from the alley. [color=#FF0000][i]I gotta at least help them...but if I do, I'll put my whole plan in jeopardy... [/i][/color]

=Rockefeller=

"I said, put your damn hands up!" Rockefeller shouted, his pistol still pointed at Desmond. He pulled the firing pin back, before shooting a bullet above Desmond's head, knocking his stetson off. "Don't make me have to tell you one more time, boy."

[Makο]

"[color=#008000]Well[/color]...so much for that peace. Oh well. Was good while it lasted."


Amidst the chaos in the once peaceful town, a long, funny looking contraption had arrived on the outskirts; far away enough to remain unnoticed in this action, but close enough so that its occupants could take a good look at what was going on. A man in a grey uniform hefted a small crate from an open compartment on the side of the machine, carrying it away a near to an already existing stack. From underneath the machine, a pink haired girl popped her head out.

"[color=#0000ff]Oi[/color], hun? What's going on over there?"

"[color=#008000]I dunno.[/color] We just got here. But it looks like...someone attacked the City Hall? I guess.

"[color=#0000ff]Geez[/color]... I thought working here would be at least MOSTLY peaceful." She retreated back under the machine as she waved her wrench in the air. "[color=#0000ff]I mean[/color], this pile of sand is out in the middle of NOWHERE! How can ANYTHING happen here?"

The man finished unloading his delivery, dusting himself off. "[color=#008000]Your [/color]expectations are too high."

Melissa slid out from under the contraption, having finished tinkering with the hydraulics. Rundas flinched a bit when she ran over and gave him a big 'ole hug, giggling. [color=#0000ff]"Well,[/color] this is why I have you to protect me, isn't it?"

"[color=#008000]I think[/color] you mean Gunner. Speaking of...Gunner! You there?!"

On top of one of the machine's segments, a large 75 mm turned towards the one-sided couple. The small speaker system crackled to life. "[color=#8b4513]Yo boss![/color] You called?"

"[color=#008000]Stay [/color]in the seven-five. If this gets any uglier, we might just get caught up in the crossfire."

"[color=#8b4513]Got it!"[/color] The cheerful man turned his cannon towards the action, ready to fire if needed. A moment of silence was broken by the speaker. "[color=#8b4513]Say, [/color]boss...where are we?"

Rundas was already inside the cockpit of his machine, digging through the compartment. "[color=#008000]Doesn't [/color]matter. Just shoot if shot at." With a rifle slung over his shoulder, he gestured to Melissa.

"[color=#0000ff]Coming[/color] love! <3" The two hurried along, with Rundas trying to avoid being noticed.