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02/12/2007 10:36 AM
"Get that stuff off of my bar Harker!" shouted the red-faced barman.
Atticus slowly tidied up his notes for his book, and put them inside his coat. He gestured for a drink. A slightly dirty glass filled with a dark whiskey was handed to him quickly. Too quickly.
Atticus glanced around the saloon. Just a few strangers.
"What time is it?" asked Atticus.
Atticus pondered for a moment about the whereabouts of his usual drinking buddies. He couldn't, he had been working for too long.
"Where is everyone?" Atticus asked.
"At the hanging. Somebody, apparently a vampire, is being hanged in ... about two minutes." the barman replied.
"Why didn't anyone ask me whether he is a vampire or not? After all, I'm the expert." said Atticus angrily.
"Well, people think you're just crazy." replied the barman.
Atticus stood abruptly, and darted outside. He headed for the gallows where a crowd had gathered. Pushing through the crowd, he saw the person about to be hanged. That was no vampire, nor a man. That was ... Atticus searched for the right word.
Atticus was about to call this ordeal to a halt, when suddenly she fell. An audible crack caused the onlookers to recoil in horror.
"Why?" whispered Atticus.
[Edited by Propaganda on Tuesday, February 13, 2007 8:59 AM]
Sue watched the lynching impassively, standing back, thumbs hitched in her pant pockets, in truth eyeing the crowd more than the act. Gauging the reaction, looking for the first early signs of trouble.
She didn't look away when the trap dropped, but her eyes tightened slightly, and one hand rose to briefly touch the small cross that hung about her throat.
02/13/2007 6:44 AM
Ed kept his head down, not having a goot vantage point from his corner back of the saloon. He tilted his glass and downed the remains of his drink. The crack echoed in his ears. You could've helped that poor woman, Ed, whats your problem. Too tired. Get up, kid. He pushed the table away, standing up and setting his drink on the counter as he moved silently across the room to the door. Apon reaching the opening, his hand instantly came to his face, the sunlight burning his eyes. He pushed through the double doors, looking on to the spectacle.
"I'm getting to old for this crap..."
Edward began to make his way through the crowd, his hand venturing to draw a revolver....
[Edited by _Freohr1_ on Tuesday, February 13, 2007 6:44 AM]
02/13/2007 10:27 AM
"I take it you weren't consulted on this".
Sue had moved quietly through the crowd to stand behind Atticus, wondering which would need calming more.
She'd removed her hat before the lynching, and only replaced it now, angling the brim to shade her eyes.
Looking away from Atticus, his anguish uncomfortable to see, she watched the now-languid action around the foot of the gallows, keeping an ear on the murmurings from the crowd. Shoulder slapping and back patting, guffawing self-congratulations.. At least there were none of them damned picture men around.
02/14/2007 1:00 AM
Atticus had nothing to say. The act of hanging a seemingly innocent person was enough.
He hung his head in shame. He could have helped. He should have helped.
He turned to face Sue. "I'm going to see the Governor," he said, gently nudging her out of the way. He walked towards the saloon, where his horse, Soldier, was tied up.
He checked Soldier's saddle, and all the various saddlebags which contained all the various tools for exorcising and generally making life hard for Corruptions, making sure they were secure.
He climbed upon the horse and faced towards the gallows for one last time, disgusted. The horse started in a trot, heading towards the Governor's mansion.
Wincing at the memory of her last visit to the Governor's (try as she might, tequila was [i]not[/i] her drink) Sue watched Atticus' receding back. The mansion was close enough, she'd hear if discussions got... heated.
The saloon looked mighty inviting, cool and dark in the heat of the day, but she chose instead to double check Boy's tack (every animal she had ever owned-regardless of sex- was called Boy, saved on effort) before heading over to the general store to pick up some sundries.
If Atticus couldn't keep that mouth of his in check she wanted to be ready to leave.
02/14/2007 6:48 AM
Ed got to the stage, studying the dead woman with a silent mourning. His hands moved to his pockets, his head hung low as he turned away. His movement slow as he moved back off the stage.
"Don't know why I do it anymore..."
A determined movement caught his eye, the word 'Governor' caught his ear. He turned quickly, watching a man on a horse cantering off. He raced through the crowd, calling out to the man on the horse.
"Hey! You know who's responsible for this!?"
02/14/2007 7:37 AM
"No ... but I'm gonna find out," said Atticus.
Atticus dug his heels into his proud stallion, jumping from a slow trot to a full gallop.
The Governor's large, white mansion was in his sights, possibly those of his gun. Only the Governor could have authorised something like this, so surely that meant he was responsible.
Why then, did Atticus feel all the guilt?
Maybe it was because he was the only one who could have stopped such a creature being killed, but that is hardly the whole truth.
The dark-brown Soldier was a fiery beast, and the Governor's stately home was in shooting distance in almost no time at all.
[Edited by Propaganda on Wednesday, February 14, 2007 7:41 AM]
02/15/2007 6:08 AM
Ed ran off to the side, his horse was tied in a back alley. He'd just bought it from the last town he was in. He named it John, after his father. Its just felt right...
Ed had followed suit, staying a few feet and behind and being deathly quiet. His eyes never stayed in the same spot. The country always seemed alien. Ed could'nt tell which direction they were going, could be north. Apon arrving, the mansion seemed to be impossibly large, people say that its not as big as the White House, but Ed couldn't make that comparison. He'd never been there, of course.
Ed still stayed behind."Don't know this cowboys status" was always Eds virtue, its worked....usually. Besides, running up beside a guy with a hundred dollar stallion with a 'Howdy-Doo' didn't look astonishingly smart.
Sue had seen the stranger take off after Atticus. Looked like the Governor was going to be hosting an impromptu party.
She finished tying off her canteen before grabbing the pommel and swinging up languidly into the saddle.
A few of the yahoos who'd been milling around the gallows had noticed the sudden departures and seemed to be taking too much of an interest.
Walking Boy deliberately slowly past them she rolled her eyes to heaven as if to say 'Oh that Atticus'.
"Go grab yourselves a drink, boys, looks like you've earned it. and unlike some people-", she shrugged towards Atticus' dust trail, fighting the desire to spit in their faces "-you can hold it".
Guffaws and posturing met her comments and she resisted the urge to kick the palomino into a trot, instead concentrating on appearing unhurried and calm. Whatever Atticus was up to he wouldn't need a posse high on their idea of 'justice' arriving.
02/15/2007 9:39 AM
As Atticus rode up the dusty trail heading towards the Governor's home, he noticed some rather unusual figures standing outside. Atticus could have sworn the looked like-
"Pinkerton Agents," he mumbled.
Pinkerton Agents were Atticus natural enemy. Although Atticus's family had been writing about Corruptions for decades, Pinkerton Agents refuse to believe they exist. Atticus thought they were all absurd.
The Pinkerton Mid-Western Detective Agency was set up by a man named Allan Pinkerton, about thirty years ago. The Pinkerton Agency was basically just a private army, it was so large. In fact, in some areas, it was completely outlawed.
Atticus knew trouble was about to rear its ugly head.
The Agents raised their pistols and rifles, hoping this stranger would only ask for directions.
[Edited by Propaganda on Thursday, February 15, 2007 9:43 AM]
02/16/2007 3:42 AM
Tommy had been sitting up in some trees, a few yards out, completely covered, taking aim at some of the agents, determing in his head whether to cure his boredom or not by killing some, when he heard the horses coming up the path to the mansion. He lowered his rifle to aim at Atticus, as well as Ed, whom was following, curious of their intentions.
"Well, this could cure my boredom if it plays out in my favor." He said, snickering, as he began to watch to see what may unfold, and determine who he would side with overall if he decided to enter any fray that may happen to occur.
"I could use the fight, I'm beginning to lose my touch at killing, so one can only hope that someone starts shooting." He said this, turning his attention back to the agents whom had drawn their firearms.
02/16/2007 8:08 AM
"Who are you?" said a Pinkerton grunt. He must have been about half the age of Atticus.
"I am a friend of the Governor," replied Atticus calmly. This was no lie, Atticus knew the Governor personally. He had been hired on numerous occasions to rid the territory of local Corruptions, and was generously rewarded with fine liquors.
"Yeah, well tough luck," the grunt replied. "If you are that desperate, you should get written permission from my boss. He said he was going to speak with the local Marshal."
Atticus spat on the ground. He was thinking of the phrase "wild-goose chase" as the grunt spoke.
Disgusted, Atticus turned Soldier around. He was going to ride back to town, to sort this mess out. He nodded towards the man who had been following him - afterall, he was pretty noisy, and Atticus had keen hearing - and started in a trot towards the dusty village he called home.
[Edited by Propaganda on Thursday, March 1, 2007 9:08 AM]
Sue wasn't entirely sure that she was relieved when she saw Atticus head back from the mansion.
Well, yes, she was relieved, but there was also a small tinge of regret.
Just a small one.
This was a shit-kicker town if ever there was one, but it had had some good folks, some pleasant company- it wasn't a chore to spend some time here.
Maybe the Governor did need a kick up the bee-hind, and maybe Atticus should've been the one to give it to him, but an empty gibbet could be a mighty tempting thing to small minds.
She pulled Boy up from his easy canter, his tail swishing in annoyance, and sipped from one of her canteens while waiting for Atticus and his new friend.
02/16/2007 1:03 PM
He sighed, disappointed that there would be no fighting, as he jumped from the tree onto his horse his eyes went white. He looked through his scope and decided to shoot the grun that had talked to Atticu in the head. A loud shot rang out as he took off, using his hex abilities on his horse, Rizan, so that Rizan could move faster, as he took off in a dust cloud.
"Well, I suppose I could head into town, considering this was quite boring, though that fellow seems interesting. I may go meet him," Tommy thought to himself, "not to mention I could use a drink.
He slowed Rizan's pace a bit to where he was now a good ways behind Ed, but coming up on them with a bit of speed, not seeming that he was going to stop to speak with them, just looking at Atticus with a sly grin.
02/16/2007 4:46 PM
It was gonna be a long day. He was Jericho Bloodmire, long lost son of Malichai Bloodmire, and that was all he knew. A smile played across those grey-blue lips of his as he stood up from his feast. They had put up a good fight, planned ahead even...but that wouldn't be enough for "Plaguewind" Bloodmire. The garlic strings were easily cut from the walls, a bit of a stinging of the eyes but nothing unbearable. The crucifixes, blown to bits by twelve gauge spreads. The holy water and silver spines had been the tricky parts. Luckily, the trips were easily seen and the traps disposed of with only minor incidents.
He'd made his way into the fortified room shortly after and laid waste to the family easily...after extracting the nescissary information from the old man hidden behind the table. Their blood was oh so sweet, especially that of the girls. Children were always the sweetest, like candy.
He'd been tipped off by a man he'd met on how to find out about his past...and he went immediately. Now he cleaned the blood from his body and lips and reloaded Pennance and Arbiter, his twin, revolver shotguns. Placing them in their belt slings and drawing his most precious of armaments, Esmarelda. She was beautiful, biggest revolver made to date, and modified to exact specifications. He had it grafted onto the blade of an old English Sword and had the handle made to fit two hands and balance it for swordplay as well as marksmanship. It was a revolver, it was a rifle, it was a sword, it was perfect. He crossed two lines gracefully in front of him without effort and kicked out the wall through which the blade had passed seamlessly.
His landing in the street caused a bit of commotion, but a drink would calm the lust and time would calm the townsfolk...So, on to the bar.
02/17/2007 8:24 PM
Corey rode into town, and almost immediately regretted it. The body still swinging from the gallows did little to improve his feelings about the place. Hopefully he did not have to stay here long. Hopefully he would find something that justified his leaving the beautiful, mountainous country he had grown up in.
"Seemed like a good idea at the time," he muttered to himself as he rode up to the saloon. He dismounted and tied his horse, a fast and hardy pony that his father had traded for with his mother's tribe a few years back, and walked past the tall blonde woman into the saloon, with a dinner in mind.
The crowd inside seemed very happy with themselves; the woman who had been hung must have been really unpopular. A few noticed his relatively dark complexion and the markings on his jacket, but returned to celebrating quickly enough. He motioned to the waitress who acknowledged him, but was apparently in no hurry to get to him. She seemed to be enjoying the after-lynching party as much as the townsfolk were anyway. He was not too disappointed because now that he was inside the food did not smell particularly appetizing.
He sat back and waited, content for now to be out of the sun.
(OOC: Just getting myself into the town.)
02/18/2007 2:53 AM
Atticus headed straight for the Marshall's office. It must have been the oldest building in the territory.
When he reached the front door, Atticus noticed a crooked sign, hanging from the door.
He cursed the Pinkerton Agency. "Wild goose chase" indeed.
Atticus thought for a moment, wondering his next course of action. Drink, instantly came to mind. He turned Soldier towards the saloon, the familiar building giving him a sudden burst of memories, both good, bad and also times when it just got ugly.
When he entered, Atticus immediately noticed plenty of unusual faces, from a creepy looking guy, to what seemed to be a Native. He ordered a glass of whiskey and sat down, his usual seat at the bar surprisingly empty.
02/18/2007 4:53 PM
He rode up to the saloon, following Atticus inside, as he let out a howl. "Talk about a hell of a day for a hanging, eh people!" He said rather loudly, his rifle bouncing around on his back as he jumped about, smiling widely.
He jumped over to a seat next to Atticus, grinning widely. "Hey there buddy! How you doing this day?" He asked Atticus, drapeing an arm over the mans shoulder, looking around the bar, for random, fun looking people.
02/20/2007 2:01 AM
Atticus shrugged the man's arm off. He was too annoyed with himself for the hanging... no the murder, of such a woman. Damn.
He took a sip of whiskey. It didn't taste right. He decided not to drink anymore.
"What is happening?" Atticus whispered to himself. He felt as though his life was falling apart.
Atticus was a firm believer of fate. He believed that things should happen for a reason, but when Death rears his head and takes innocent people away, Atticus doubts himself.
He needed to figure this one out, and soon. It can't happen again.
"These people are bewitched, and they don't question anything they are told," said Atticus. "I smell a conspiracy."
[Edited by Propaganda on Tuesday, February 20, 2007 2:01 AM]
02/20/2007 6:26 AM
Ed stayed behind at the Mansion, staking out in an attempt to find a weakness in the fortress. He lay behind a tree, John a few yards away in a fray of bushes. Ed hoped he'd get lucky, although the cards were against him he was feeling unusually lucky. In spite of the events of the last hour or so. Ed amused himself by betting against himself on when the guards would go to the bathroom....he usually lost..
02/20/2007 7:17 AM
Luna didn't mind the long walk into town, although she didn't like the town itself, to many people staring at her, whispering even point and calling her a witch.
There was another hanging that morning, Luna was under the protection of the minster so she was safe from such and end or so she was told by Martin. He had been her, master, mentor and friend for the last four years, she felt grateful to him as down here there was no one who liked her.
She walked past the inn and felt a chill past through her, she turn and the Minster himself was behind her. This was the first time she hand seen him in over a month, he hadn't even been in the church, "Father where have been no one has seen you," she worried for him.
"My child now is not the time," his eye widened, staring at her neck, "Come hither the street is not place for such things." she obediently walked in front of him, she had not reason to distrust him, he had still been doing his job of proclaiming witches and vampires even when he wasn't seen. The Minster walked behind her staring at her neck, smooth white, full of life.
[Edited by LunaMaria on Tuesday, February 20, 2007 12:11 PM]
02/20/2007 11:43 AM
Atticus rubbed his eyes, and checked the time on the grandfather clock behind the bar. It was late, and his was too old staying awake.
He yawned, and stretched his arms. He checked the time again.
Atticus stood up, blinked, and walked towards the door. His head was drooping, but was too tired to do anything about it.
Atticus untied Soldier from a post, just outside the door. He decided not to climb up on the poor horse, as he knew that Soldier would be as tired as him. He began walking towards his home, a little way outside of town.
Atticus noticed that the streets were empty, apart from a few stragglers, but even then, they were heading for buildings.
"It must be later than I thought," he said to himself, shaking his head.
He was home sooner than he expected. A small smile appeared on the edges as he read the sign he head but up all those years ago.
He was grateful of that sign. It brought back good memories of his wife, and the life he used to have, before that day.
That day when she was taken away from him by the all too familiar face of Death. Everything went sour after that, Atticus was unable to even look someone in the eye for several months after her death.
He remembered when she had told him she was pregnant. The overwhelming joy had left him speechless, and he cried in joy. Death had taken two lives that day.
Atticus wiped away a tear that had been gathering at the corner of his eye, and headed inside, hoping for a decent night's sleep without and nightmares. It was little to ask.
Sue had kicked around town for most of the day, not feeling like sitting in the midst of the drunken revellers in the bar. The thought had been just a little bit nauseating.
As dusk had fallen- one of her favourite times, the blue-tinged light softening and obscuring the dust and grime, making everything look otherwordly- she'd decided against heading back to her lodgings, instead fulfilling the promise of exercise she'd made to Boy.
She cantered out of town, not deciding on a route exactly, just letting Boy's whim direct them. She wasn't going to go too far, just far enough away so as not to feel a part of this town, of what it had done.
He brought her to the small creek that ran just past the eastern outskirts of town, making her feel guilty about keeping him saddled all day.
Slipping down she stretched, taking a moment to enjoy the light breeze playing around them, before removing the horse's tack. She curried him down well, the teeth of the comb removing the dust that had accumulated during the day.
Making camp quickly she didn't bother lighting a fire- the soil still held much of the day's warmth, she had a couple of good blankets for when it got cooler later on, and she hadn't had much of an appetite all day.
Lying down on her bed roll she she pillowed the back of her head on her arms, looking up at the stars, addressing the constellations by the name her Pop had used.
She didn't think she'd get all thatr much sleep that night.
02/20/2007 4:20 PM
Tommy sighed, walking outside he climbed up on his horse and layed down, closing his eyes since nothing fun was apparently going to happen. Just as he found a comfortable spot, shots range out all around him, as he fell to the dust, looking over his horse seeing some of the same agents as he had shot at before.
"Well, this night just got better!" He yelled out, grabbing his rifle, using his hex abilities to speed his shots up, rolling behind a building, looking out to see 5 agents aiming for him, as they began to shoot, he moved back behind the building.
Using his rifle he shot one of the agents, taking them out, then using his colts he leaped up ontop of the building and started shooting at the remaining 4, one of them actually getting a shot off, hitting him in the arm, as he yelled out, dropping one of his colts, having taken out all of the agents, he jumped from the roof after replacing the colts in their holsters.
"Great, I got shot, that is so not what I had in mind, but what can you do." He wrapped his wound before climbing back onto his horse, falling asleep.
02/21/2007 8:51 AM
Luna was worried by the sight inside the house, all the windows were blocked and the only light came from a nearly burn out candle, "Father what has happened," turning to face him.
"My child nothing is the matter, I have wished not to be disturbed of late, now sit," Mointing to a chair in the middle of the room, "What troubles you?"
Luna took a seat, "Nothing father, other than your recluse of late there has been talk of you, you haven't been in church."
"Luna, you are a devout believer, do really think that it is all that simple, Good and Bad, these are just words on fools ears," locking the door and returning to her, "All is relative."
"This is blasphemous, father what has come over you," Raising to her feet, "Shall I call the doctor."
"My dear, I hunger that is all," Sitting opposite her, "I hunger."
"I shall cook you something"
"Sit," Ordered the minister, "I do not wish to eat."
Luna complied to his order, "Then what, do you what of me father."
"I trier of this game," Moving closer to her, "I wish to feed upon you," His eye lit up in the dark haunting green, moonlight bathed his face from a gap in the window, Fangs stuck out of his face. Luna tried to move but those eyes, those eye seemed to hold her there, she couldn't look.
02/21/2007 9:42 PM
Corey eventually got his food. It proved better than it had smelled, but that was likely because he was so hungry by the time it got there. "Hunger is the best gravy" like they say. He exited the saloon, and decided that he would stay in the hotel tonight. He had money from the sale of a year's worth of furs, and no provisions to spend it on.
He mounted his horse, and rode towards the livery he had sighted on the way in. If he was going to spend the night in relative luxury, his horse would to. He arrived at the livery, and to his surprise no one was there. He knew it was late, but there should at least be someone there to watch the horses. Upon closer inspection, he did not see any horses inside. He thought about dismounting and knocking, but he no longer thought leaving his horse here was such a good idea. Oh well. No hotel tonight.
He rode out of the town, looking for a grassy area in which to bed down. As he rode past the houses on the outskirts, something felt wrong, unnatural. He tried to shrug it off, but it persisted, standing out all the more for his attempts to ignore it.
"Its probably just some hexer. None of my business, I should just keep moving," he muttered to himself, trying to dissuade himself from going to investigate. He did not move. His horse snorted, fussing at Corey for sitting still when he should be riding somewhere his saddle could be removed and he could have a good roll.
"Quiet, Arrow. I can't walk by this," he said softly to his horse.
He dismounted the pinto, tying it loosely to the hitching post in front of the shuttered house. He walked up to the door, and found it securely locked.
"This is stupid, Corey. You're gonna get yourself arrested," he muttered as he went around the tightly shuttered house.
The closer he got, the more what was inside felt [b]wrong[/b]. Out of a chink in the shutters, a green light shone. Suddenly, he felt an inexplicable sense of urgency. He grabbed his tomahawk from his belt and attacked the shutter fastening. His tomahawk broke straight through and shattered the window pane beyond, and then he tore the shutter open.
A green eyed face looked up at the sound. It looked very angry. Corey raised his hand back to throw his tomahawk at the thing, but found that he could not complete the motion.
"Curiosity killed the cat," was the thought that ran through his head.
02/22/2007 1:18 AM
His gaze was turned Luna leapt from her seat, and made for the back door, locked.
"My dear, " spinning round, "It is God will that has made me like this, God wills it, don't you see," He left the window and advanced on her. Luna grabbed the only thing to hand and waved it at him, The nearly burnt out candle was of little use but the brass stick would have been in the hands of a normal person, Luna couldn't hit a priest.
Luna backed away into the wall, "Father please, this is the work of the devil,"She dropped the candle stick to her side, "Please father." "
This is what I am now, it's unfortunate that tomorrow you'll be hanged as a witch," He smiled, nearly on top of her, "Next it think I'll kill Martin, to keep you company." Luna wasn't sure of anything, she drooped out of conciousness.
~ Red, Orange, Amber, Gold, Blue, it's hot. ~
The room launched into flame, the Minster, his skin burning screamed and burst out the back door, Luna sank to the floor, "Tàng, sÐ wáng, fán, zào wù zhÔ, Ki, fire."
02/22/2007 2:40 PM
"Well ... that is definately not something one sees every day." Her gaze focuses on the burning house, and the man who had been hacking away at a shutter. "Definately not."
The young woman pulls her horse to a stand still, seeing as the poor thing looks old enough to keel over at any moment ... well, making him stop moving was never the hard part of trips.
Her lips twitch into a rather amused smirk as she slides off the saddle, leading the old mare to a hitching post and hitching her up before finally wandering into the tavern. "Hey, in case anyone happens to care...there appears to be a house on fire. I'd presume people were in it."
Without caring if people try to trample past her to the house, or what, she heads to the bar and orders a whiskey.
02/23/2007 2:30 AM
Crack. The blue-eyed brunette's neck snapped again, the spectators manic laughing getting louder. Again. And again.
Atticus felt as though he was falling away from the sight of the hanging.
He landed into his familiar bed, the hard mattress oddly comforting to him. He tried looking around the room, but it was too dark to see. So dark in fact, that he couldn't even see his own hand a foot in front of his face.
Atticus climbed out of bed, and walked slowly towards the place he thought the window was, feeling his way across the room. He was a little to the left, but he managed to pull the ragged curtains open. He gazed out at the now decrepit ranch he calls home.
He glanced up at the pale, delicate moon. It reminded him of his pale, delicate wife on her final day in life, and the pale, delicate brunette from the hanging.
"I'll never get back to sleep now," sighed Atticus.
He decided to read over the notes he had been writing earlier in the saloon. He found a candle and some matches on his kitchen table.
While reading his notes, correcting any mistakes he made, he heard faint gunshots. They sounded close, but not within range of his home.
Slightly worried, Atticus got dressed. He checked his revolver, the Blue Rose, and cautiously walked outside, through the scraggly wooden door that was hanging on by rusty hinges.
He felt the sudden cringe in his chest, the distinct feeling of something unusual happening in the Hex.
"Not good," mumbled Atticus.
Climbing upon Soldier, he headed towards the general area of the faint gunshots, hoping he wasn't too late.
[Edited by Propaganda on Friday, February 23, 2007 2:32 AM]
02/24/2007 11:06 PM
Corey moved to complete the throw once the fleeing girl took the thing's attention off of him. When he did, he realized that the window frame would skew any threw he made. Cursing, he drew his .45 and ran around towards the back door. He heard the thing and the girl speaking, and then just as he reached the door it burst open in a blast of flame.
Falling back from the flame, he was out of the way as the monster ran out the back, burning and screaming. He aimed at the fast-moving flame, and his vision seemed to pull towards it. To someone looking at him, his eyes and sights would have held the telltale glow of the hex. To him it felt similar to when he would hunt, and zero in on the heart of his kill, feeling its beat before he fired. Only this time he focused not on a heartbeat, but on what felt like the center of the wrongness. His .45 roared. The unnatural feeling abated, and he realized that the girl had not run out the door after the burning abomination.
Holstering his weapon quickly, he rushed into the burning building at a crouch, looking around. He saw her unconscious form right next to the door, picked up her light frame, and ran outside. Over the roar of the flames he could hear his horse scream. Right. The fire.
He could feel that she was still breathing, so moved as quickly as possible in the direction of his horse. He set her down at what he felt was a safe distance from the flames, and ran the rest of the way to his horse, who was near to breaking the loose knot he had fastened it with.
Making soothing noises and patting it, he managed to calm the animal. He looked up to see a crowd running from the direction of the saloon, nearly to him.
They neared, and seeing the girl laying on the ground near him in front of their minister's burning house, one yelled, "The redskin and the witch killed the minister!"
"No! I didn't kill anybody!" he yelled. They didn't seem convinced.
He knew that he could get away, if he mounted now and rode without stopping, but he had just saved this girl from the fire and did not want to let her die on a noose. He ran to pick her up, set her over his saddle, and mounted just as the mob arrived. Hands grabbed him and the girl as he tried to flee, pulling him to the ground. He tried to fight, but a boot to the face brought blackness.
02/25/2007 6:18 AM
"If the Minster isn't here to place his judgement, then who decides?"
"We know they are, it's our duty to end them,"
"I don't want to be here when they wake up, guard the door," Both men left leaving Luna and her rescuer in a locked cell.
Luna woke with a stir, she didn't remember what happened, the last thing she saw was the Minster in his house, now she was here. There was a young man laying on the other side of the cell he looked like he was hurt, Luna moved over to him. She rolled him over he had dark brown hair and odd skin like that of an Indian and blue eyes, why was she locked up with this man. There was a boot print on his face but he didn't seem that badly hurt, she was going to try to wake him but she didn't know this man he could be dangerous, she moved back to the corner and drew her knees up to her face.
She had been sat watching the young man for only a while when a voice she knew could he heard, "I have to see her,"
"Sir the Minster says no one may see them,"
"I care not of my brothers, orders take this an let me in,"
"Sir I can't,"
Luna got up and ran to the front of the cell, "Martin, whats happening," A man in his mid-twenties burst though the door, looking angry, "Luna what have you done?"
"Martin, why am I in here," Extending her arm through the bars, Martin pushed on them and she fell back into the cell, "Why did you attack my brother, why did you burn down his house?"
"Martin, I didn't I wouldn't do those things, why would you think that," distort
"You were at his house today you were only one other than him there when it was burnt down you were found out side trying to escape,"
"I was at his house but, I didn't do those things," tearful
"The Minster said so himself, he plans to hang you this night, You have disappointed me Luna," he left, Luna still on the floor watched after him, "I didn't do those things did I?"
02/25/2007 7:16 AM
Atticus could feel it; the void was a telltale sign of a Corruption. It was badly injured, but it was still alive.
Only a Hexer, and skilled one at that, could have been able to hurt a Corruption like that.
Arriving into town, Atticus saw what he had sensed: the smoking body of a vampire. There was a crowd gathered in the street. Some were looking worriedly at the body, some looking quizzically at Atticus, and looking at the burnt-out building.
Atticus hopped down off of Soldier, and strode proudly up to the body. It was lying face down in the dirt. He hunkered down and flipped it over. A jolt of shock shot up through Atticus's spine.
It was the Minister.
The Minister, of all people, was a particularly powerful vampire. Not powerful enough, it seemed.
Atticus knew the Minister, but he had never previously sensed there was anything odd about him. His "affliction" must have been recent. Either that, or the he was well fed.
"The plot thickens," mumbled Atticus.
He stood up, and lit a cigar. He popped it in the side of his mouth, savouring the taste, before exhaling. Cigars calmed his nerves quicker and easier than alcohol.
Sufficiently relaxed, Atticus withdrew a dagger from his jacket.
The dagger itself was very ornate, pieces of gold and silver made up the majority of the hilt, where a red eye sat, staring blankly into space. The blade was polished; some might say it was over-polished, as it shone quite brightly in the fading light of dusk.
He stabbed the dagger into the body of the Minister, where his heart should have been. Steam rose from the wound, and the body began the irreversible effect of vaporisation
Atticus was pleased at the rather gruesome sight. He had rid the world of another Corruption; albeit with some help from ... someone.
02/25/2007 11:03 AM
Ash rests in the doorway of the tavern, her glass of whiskey being drained bit by bit as she watches the events unfold in front of her. "Well....This is certainly a busy little town." Her tone is a bit amused as she watches Atticus, though of course she didn't know the man's name, stab the minister.
Even more amused as she watches the townspeople freak out over the obviously innocent indian and girl. How stupid do you have to be to think that the hero and the victim were the ones responsible she didn't know, but apparently the town was in fact that stupid.
The whole thing just amuses her. It's probably not a good thing that it does, but oh well. She came to grips with having a sick sense of humor a while ago.
02/25/2007 1:58 PM
Corey woke up with a headache. He reached up to touch his forehead, and winced at the touch of his own hand. Exploring with his hand, he felt the shape of the welt. Damn riding boots. He opened his eyes, and looked around the bare cell. Huh...they seemed to have put him in the same cell as the girl he had pulled out of burning building. Last night he had not really seen her, and he took the opportunity of the slightly better lighting to do so. She was young, pretty in a delicate sort of way, and had a head of very bright red hair. On her face the soot from the fire had trails cutting through it. She had been crying.
He sat up slowly, grimacing at the pain in his head. He needed whiskey. Or herbs. He assumed whiskey would be more available around here though. Once he finished sitting up, he patted himself down and discovered that his weapons and money were gone. Great. He sighed, and then spoke.
"Well, this isn't good. I save you from a fire and get accused of murder. Real charming town. I'm guessing that you have lived here for a while; got any idea what our chance of getting out of this with un-stretched necks is?"
[Edited by Benjmn on Sunday, February 25, 2007 3:34 PM]
02/25/2007 6:37 PM
(OOC: forgive me for assuming you have a friend as mentioned, but please allow it for the sake of me meeting you mister Atticus)
Step two was complete in Jericho's search for truth. The evidence pointed to a man named Atticus. All he got was a name before the blood-loss caused Mr. Samson to leave this world. He was old, his blood would be terrible so he simply watched it drain from the man from the simultaneous slashing/bullet wound. The man was apparently an aquaintance of this "Atticus" and may or may not be missed, but there was no need to hide. He could easily handle a lawman. His Shotgun blasted out the wall in two shots and he walked through into the street.
Something was wrong, he could smell burning flesh...Corrupted flesh...and the scent of a vampire recently released. He screamed in pain as a bit of his heart was broken by the loss of another of his bretheren. It was close, and it was unforgivable, he reloaded his sword-gun and his shotguns as he ran towards the scent, as he rounded a corner, he saw someone kneeling over the disspating body of the Minister a contact of his. He pulled the chain of his choker, releasing the catch that snapped his metallic "bandana" over his mouth and tipped his hat down. He was a Screaming blur of darkness as he approached the man with his claws fully extended. He wanted this kill to be personal...
02/26/2007 3:58 AM
Although he had exorcised the vampire, he could still feel it. Unless there was another one nearby&
"Oh, shit!" shouted Atticus, turning, spotting the blur bearing down on him. His heart lurched. He wasn't sure of his next action. After all, it's not very often Corruptions ambush him.
Inspiration struck him like the stench of a rotting corpse.
Atticus dived to the side, powered by the Hex. He had to phrase this right, lest he be this beast's supper.
"What do you want, filth?" he asked, instantly regretting using that final word. He doubted if he would live through the night, but he had to play the odds, no matter what.
02/26/2007 11:21 AM
Ash has this rather sinking feeling that she is going to regret coming to the man's aide ... but she's regretted alot of things in her life. Why not add one more to the list?
With a rathy gusty sigh, she yanks her gun out, aims just to the right of Jericho, and fires. She has no intention of actually hitting the man, after all she has no idea why anyone is fighting anyone at this point ... besides, the smell of blood is too tempting already. She isn't sure if she could resist pouncing on someone if she let loose any more, even if it was more or less recycled blood.
"Now now boys, why don't we just calm ourselves down and have a nice little chat about our differences? I doubt the townspeople would at all enjoy having to clean up any messes you two would make. " Her tone is lazy, completly uncaring. "Or at the very least, settle your differences further away from the bar would ya? You're disrupting my evenin drink."
02/26/2007 8:27 PM
A powerful crack is heard as Jericho's hand snaps to his right and back down , seemingly avoiding the bullet and thinking twice about drawing his sword. He stepped casually to the left and put a thumb across the handle of his shotgun. The intensity hasn't yet left his eyes.
"Beg Pardon miss but this is a mans fight with a god...enjoy the show and shaddup. Filth, eh? It's yer kind what poisons the land and steals from innocents. I simply grant life to those who've nothin' ta live for. Speakin of which You seem to have killed my friend the minister here. Now I'm willin ta let you go seein's how I missed, but seems to me that a man like you oughta know where I can find a mister 'Atticus'".
With that, he walked past Ash, lowering his 'Bandana' and dropped her bullet into her palm. He leaned aganst a post and waited for answers.
02/27/2007 7:35 AM
"You CAUGHT a bullet? What...? how do you even catch ab ullet?" She stares at him, shaking her head. "I have no idea who Atticus is, and frankly I don't think I want to know. Besides, I think I asked ya to move teh fight away from the tavern so i'm not disturbed, not stop it altogether. If you want to go around killing people, that's your business, not mine. Or at least, not mine until you kill me or someone I actually know and like .. Though I do think you owe me a drink for making me waste a bullet." If the girl was intimidated by the man's display she didn't show it. Instead, she seemed more curious, if one can be indifferently curious that is.
02/27/2007 7:47 AM
(OOC: Guys, in case you haven't noticed, this is in the past tense.)
"I'm a 'mister' Atticus," said Atticus softly, glaring at the strange man. He could feel him through the Hex, sensing the space of nothing. It was wrong, very wrong
Atticus wasn't sure how to act; it was rare to speak to a Corruption. Unless, of course, you are about to be consumed.
He made sure he would be able to draw the Blue Rose if the need arose, and his exorcising blade, if the need arose. This could get bad and ugly real quick.
02/27/2007 4:38 PM
"Well, well...Fancy that, mister Samson said to find you but I guess he bled out too quick to mention you'd be so close. Musta been a real good friend seein's all the cuttin and shootin I had to do before he spilled his guts...er...figuratively speakin. So...you feelin talkative or do we need ta see which one of us has a faster hand." With that his hand flashed into his pocket and he threw a gold coin into the air, drawing his sword and batting it towards the talkative woman in the blink of an eye before clipping it back into the hook in his duster's back.
02/27/2007 4:44 PM
Ash had managed to grab onto the coin before it hit the ground, something that normally wouldn't have impressed anyone ... but seeing how the coin came to be thrown her way, well, she would admit to being rather proud of herself. After all, she couldn't think of too many people who could calmly grab a coin that was hit their way via a sword of all things.
"who even uses a sword now adays?" She shook her head, looking rather bemused by the whole situation. Despite the thoughts that had been whirling in her head, the prominate being that she should edge the hell away and leave the boys to their business, she remained standing there.
02/28/2007 5:27 AM
"Samson ... is dead? You bastard, you foul beast," spat Atticus, filled with hate and anger for the vampire. "What do you want from me? Tell me now, or enter the rivers of death."
Atticus was pretty sure that the Corruption would attack. A vampire on the hunt usually doesn't give up until it has had its fill. He hoped for the best.
Atticus glanced at the woman, glancing back and forth between himself and the beast. She seemed too keen to be involved. Atticus was curious of her motives, but he had no time to question her now.
02/28/2007 8:18 AM
"My my, such hateful words. Can't we just be civilized. I Need information on a man named Bloodmire he's very close to me I hear. Called him "plague-spitter" and YOU, I'm told, Killed him..." His gun-sword snapped off of the ring on his back and whipped itsself around , just missing Atticus' neck and a shot rang out mere inches from his throat. There was a gurgling sound and loud thump as a cloaked figure slumped to the ground. There was a smell of burning wood and flesh and the cloak grew empty as the life form inside dissapated into nothing. "Damn, always the one that show some promise that I gotta kill myself..." The blade hovered inches away from Atticus and the barrel's smoke drifted into his face. "So, we gon talk, 'm I gon rip that spiteful tongue of yer's out, or do I need to just kill every-damn-thing."
02/28/2007 9:57 AM
Luna wasn't sure how to answer the mans question, she had never been or known anyone that had been hung before, "I don't know," was all she would reply with. There was a number of gunshots coming from the street, the man got up but Luna didn't move. Two men came in the door, "You brought him here, send him away," both walking over to the cell, "If we have to kill you first then we will," taking guns out and unlocking the cell. One of the men took the compliant Luna, while the other kept his gun on the man as he closed the cell....
The man stood in the middle of the street, his left arm around Luna's neck holding her to his chest, his other on a Colt pointed over at the crowd surrounding the battle, "We don't want your kind here, You monsters leave or I'll kill this one," indicating at Luna.
The Marshal took this time to walk back into town, "Well this is a fine show of folk."
02/28/2007 1:06 PM
"Bloodmire? Sorry, but I have never, in all my days, heard of that name," said Atticus shakily.
Atticus tried to recall previous encounters with various Corruptions. He couldn't remember their names; invoking a feeling of hopelessness, spiralling away from reality...
Atticus was startled by the man, and even more so by his hostage. It was an unusual turn of events. He wasn't quite sure if the captor meant for his kind or the vampire's to leave. Luckily, the Marshal showed up, seemingly to sort every thing out.
The Marshal, or Will Kelley, was a personal friend of Atticus, having been asked on numerous occasions to stop local Corruptions from terrorising the town.
"Well this is a fine show of folk," said Marshal Kelley as he inspected his surroundings upon entering the humble town. He had a fishing rod slung over his shoulder. He really had been 'Gone Fishin'.' "I hear there has been many a misunderstandin' while I have been away."
Atticus nodded towards the Marshal, acknowledging his presence. The Marshal certainly commanded the crowd, willing them to pay attention. Kelley was the only person Atticus knew that could have such control.
"Now, I ain't lookin' for trouble, mister vampire, so if you could clear up your business and be on your way, without injuring any of the townsfolk, well, that would be great," said the Marshal.
Kelley only knew there was a vampire in the ranks because he was well trained in the Hex, being able to feel his surroundings, read it, and act accordingly; just like any half-decent Hexer should.
[Edited by Propaganda on Sunday, April 1, 2007 5:45 AM]
02/28/2007 2:51 PM
Ash, rather wisely inher opinion, slunk back from the doorway. Not quite out of sight, but she was definately at an advantageous posistion should things go to hell in a handbasket, as people might say. Gingerly, she set her drink down on a nearby table, and just as gingerly, pulled out her gun again, keeping it aimed in the gnereal direction of...well outside of the tavern. Poor girl couldn't tell who was the most likely to accidently start shooting her way, and it always did her good to be prepared for any eventuality.
02/28/2007 3:19 PM
Corey felt wrongness again. Out in the street, he could feel it. And like before, it seemed to pull at him, demand that he come to it and make it right, that he fill the unnatural void it created. The jail cell made that a little hard though.
The girl's answer was a little encouraging; at least she had not said "they lynch people all the time" or something like that. Then the guards had come and taken her outside, indicating that they thought she was responsible for the bringing the wrongness here. He did not understand whatever was out there, but he seriously doubted that she had anything to do with bringing it into town. She had looked terrified. "I probably should have said something else; she seemed scared enough as it was," he thought to himself. He began to pace, trying to relieve the urge to fix the wrongness. It didn't help. He walked up to the bars, and started talking to the guard.
"I don't know why you thought I killed your minister or why you think that girl is a witch, but there is a real monster outside. It's [i]wrong[/i]! Can't you feel it? It's driving me crazy in here!"
"I ain't no hexer, redskin. I don't feel nothing. So you just sit down, back away from the bars, and wait till we decide what to do with you."
"Something that felt just like that thing out there was about to kill that girl, and now you take her to it!? What the hell is wrong with you people!" he yelled at the guard. The guard motioned with his gun that Corey should sit down, but said nothing. Corey wished for the first time that he knew how to use his hex. The shaman had told him that it was in him before he left, but shamans don't teach the use of the hex to people who ain't shamans.
He couldn't get out of the cell. He couldn't end the wrongness. He sat back down on his cot, closing his eyes and trying to ignore what was outside. Didn't work. To try to take his mind off of the unnatural thing that grated against his senses, he focused on the guard like he would a buffalo or a deer. He focused on the heartbeat of the guard, right up to the point where he would usually fire. He could not fire though, so he tried to focus further. It was not easy, but at least it drowned out the wrongness. He focused more and more, feeling the rush of blood through the guard and the myriad of tiny motions that kept him balanced. He pushed further, and felt the small pains in the guard, how his back ached and his hand was tired of holding the gun. Further still, and he felt he was on the brink of the man's very thoughts. Then the man moved, close to the bars, and Corey's focus was jarred when the man spoke.
"Get out of my head, hexer, before I put a bullet in yours."
Corey opened one eye, noting in his head that focusing on people was not the same as focusing on animals. Then he moved. He threw his blanket, hoping to confuse the man's aim, and jumped up, grabbing the man's gun-hand and slamming his face into the bars. To his surprise the guard did not fire. Corey pulled the now unconscious body close to the bars. He reached the belt, and took the keys off of it.
Hoping that everyone outside was distracted by the monster, he opened the door, disarmed the guard, and put him in the cell. His stuff was on the table, and he belted on his gun, tomahawk, and knife, and then silently moved out the door. It would have been easier to move out silently if he were wearing moccasins, but it was not impossible in boots.
Outside, he saw the monster. It looked like a man...but sure didn't feel like one. He was tempted to fire immediately, but figured that the man threatening to kill the girl (he really should have asked her name) would probably turn and shoot him, or the girl, if he did so. So, take care of him first, then see about the monster. For some reason everyone around it was very calm, with the exception of the guard. Heck, they were talking to the thing.
He walked up behind the guard, drew his pistol, and whacked him on the head. When the guard dropped, he reversed his grip and pointed the gun at the abomination.
[Edited by Benjmn on Wednesday, February 28, 2007 3:22 PM]
02/28/2007 3:47 PM
Luna fell to the ground following the man that was holding her, she closed her eyes as she did so. She opened them to see the man that had carried her before standing over her with a gun pointed at the group at the end of the street. She didn't get why everyone had guns pointed at each other, much less to the voice she was hearing in her head, she couldn't work out who's but it sounded un earthly like that on the Minster's home when he. She remembered what had happened, the Mister was a vampire, she had done something, she did kill him.
She untangled herself from her lifeless body of the guard and rose to her feet, the Indian man watched her but didn't help, Luna looked from her more upright position at him as she backed away, she knew not to stand to near to people with guns. The voice was still there, she could still hear it but not what it said, she strained to hear more of it. Instead more voices joined, building up an ethereal choir in here head, it wasn't unpleasant but made no sense, only sound. Was it a message from God, if it was what did it mean, had he chosen her actions or had she angered him, she questioned her faith.
Luna didn't fall into the crowd but kept from the fight to the right of the Indian, he had safes her before, it was unlikely that he would hurt her, but the other three. The voice kept getting louder, what did that mean...
02/28/2007 4:47 PM
Jericho was far superior to those he faced, but superioroty gave him the wisdom to understand being outnumbered. He could probably kill them all, but he had a mission to complete. He strained his eyes and the veins in his head stood out from the skin as his eyes whitened and he spoke into the minds of eveyone. This would be a taxing use of energy so if it failed he would be too weak and...he would surely kill them...yes, kill them because death was no option. A mental voice accompanied images of death and gore and the face of a man not unlike Jericho but much older.
[i]"This is my father...Andrew Bloodmire. Mark his Face well and remember. He has my key and I need it. now tell me where I can find his corpse."[/i]
03/01/2007 6:24 AM
It was hopeless; Atticus couldn't remember the face of Andrew Bloodmire. If he ever did, at least the image was permanently burned into his mind, like that of a blemish on a photograph. Atticus could feel every one else's shock at the images of various murders and other grotesque acts.
The intensity of the Corruption's presence lessened in Atticus's chest. It had used up a lot of its energy in sending images of the nefarious deeds that it had committed during its time in life.
"Well," said Marshal Kelley, breaking the silence that had fallen on the streets. "Looks like your business here has been wrapped up, so I'd suggest you put your tail between your legs and skedaddle on out of town."
Atticus noticed an unusual of confidence in the man's voice, given the situation. He must also sense the vampire's waning power.
03/01/2007 6:54 AM
It had been centuries since a Bloodmire cried...decades since one felt assured futility. Jericho felt the weight of his decision fully as he noticed the eyes upon him and the confidence they all held. He'd never find his father and it pained him so.
"Well...are you gonna kill me or aint ya?" His hands held wide to his sides, the sword dangling by the trigger guard.
He readied His last skill, one handed down in his family, said to embody the myths of old about vampires. He winked at the female Vampire just inside the doorway to the tavern. The Hex was cast..as soon as anyhting touched him he would explode into a swarm of phantom bats and fly away to safety. Any hexer for miles would feel him now, and he would feel strong. He would appear to have regained his hex and then some. This would allow them to at least shoot at him...well through him anyhow. He didn't have enough Hex to transmute the gun-sword, so he'd let it fall and stab into the ground all dramatic like. He gritted his teeth for the pain that always came with transmutation and waited for the "killing blow"
03/01/2007 7:11 AM
"Wait!" shouted Atticus. "I have seen this before. Whatever you do, don't touch him!"
The crowd, who had been readying themselves for the execution of another Corruption, looked up at Atticus in confusion. Just in time it seemed.
Atticus remembered this particular Hex ability; it had almost cost him his life in his youth. Andrew Bloodmire's image hit Atticus like a rock.
"Vampire, I know what you seek, I know where to find him. Head south for about three miles, and you should be near a river that marks the border into Tejanio. Upon crossing that river, you should find a cemetery. Bloodmire is a 'grave-keeper' of sorts there."
Having finished speaking, Atticus drew the Blue Rose and fired a volley of shots into the chest of the Corruption. It dispersed it into a league of flying vermin.
[Edited by Propaganda on Thursday, March 1, 2007 7:14 AM]
03/01/2007 7:32 AM
Excruciating pain shot through Jericho's body as it tore itsself apart, but in a show of great discipline, a single bat remained behind on the butt of the gunblade, whose cutting edge had dug into the ground, before following the others. There was a pulsating in the hex, like a sonicboom of energy as the bats became motes of light and he floated to the ground, reassembling from the feet up, slowly as he walked. He neared the cemetary gates and could feel a familiar vibration in his blood...But daddy was dead...or supposed to be...
03/01/2007 9:11 AM
"Why, just in the nick of time, mister Harker," Marshal Kelley said to Atticus.
Atticus didn't reply, but merely acknowledged him with a glance. There was a conflicting emotions running through his head, ones making him doubt his career choice. He was annoyed with himself for letting a Corruption live, but was glad he could help something that resembled a human.
The whole ordeal made him realise that not all Corruptions were what they were made out to be.
"Marshal Kelley, I wanted to talk to you about the Pinkerton agents up at the Governor's manison," said Atticus. "They wouldn't let me in."
"Well, son, why did you want to get in?"
"There was a woman claimed to have been a vampire, and she was hanged earlier. The Pinkerto agents told me their boss had gone to speak with you."
"Yeah, I was speaking to him, but he never mention anything about a hanging. Something isn't right here. Anyway, he did say that he had to head south across the border to sort out a few things down there. You know, government stuff."
03/01/2007 12:50 PM
Luna wasn't sure how to act to any of this she wasn't even sure what to do next, Martin had rejected her so she no where to go, should she stay by herself or go with the man that had saved her. The voices had stopped, she couldn't hear that sound anymore she felt empty alone, like she could fold into herself, she felt pain on her face, horizontal.
Martin stood over her his gun pulled and pointed at her face, "You are a beast, it's my duty to end you Luna," tears forming in his eyes.
"Luna are you feeling better," I sat up but her press on my head to go back down, "Don't do anything yet,"
"You looked after me?"
"What else would I do you look after me when I'm sick, drink this," passing her a cup of green fluid, "Dr Herm said this would me you feel better." I emptied the glass, the liquid tasted foul but if Martin wanted me to take I would. " Just stay here I'll be back soon with something to eat."
That was only a few weeks ago, why would Martin do these things?
Luna lay staring at the gun, if it was what Martin thought was right it would be.
03/01/2007 4:47 PM
Ash stared at the spot that the Junior Bloodmire had stood. She was shell-shocked, to say the last. Her thoughts were in a turmoil; she had never seen someone so powerful! The thought that if she drank blood, if she did the same as that man and acted more like her brothers, the thought that if she simply succumbed to her proverbial dark side she would gain that kind of power enthralled her.
With a growl she shoved herself away from the doorway, her eyes glazed over with anger and fear.
"I don't need the hex...I don't, I can live fine without it." Her hand connected solidely with the doorframe. It didn't help her any, didn't calm her down, or bring her to some kind of resolution. All it did was make her hand throb and give her a few splinters.
"Great...just friggin great." Her voice was hardly more than a growl as she used her other hand to pick the splinters out.
03/01/2007 7:58 PM
The abominations flew away. How it flew away he had no idea, but it did. He slowly lowered the hammer on his revolver and then holstered it, staring dumbfounded at where the thing had been standing.
He was revolted and fascinated by the monster. One of the men...Atticus, he had been called, did not seem at all surprised by the disappearing act. Corey took a step forward, and opened his mouth to ask exactly what the abominations were, when he heard yet ANOTHER man threaten the redhead.
"By the Hex!" he growled, turning to face this new man and moving quickly towards him. Looking up in surprise at his approach, the man raised his gun at Corey, who by this point was close enough that he was able to catch man's hand before the weapon actually pointed at him. He twisted the man's arm and grappled him to the ground pretty easily. This man was nowhere near the equal of his cousins that he had wrestled whenever they visited his mother's tribe. He ended up with a knee in the man's back and with the man's arm twisted up at about a 45 degree angle to the man's back. The gun had ended up on the ground near the girl. "Don't you vé'ho'e (white people) ever stop trying to kill her? What did she do to you people!?"
"This town is definitely making me wish I had stayed in the mountains," he muttered to himself while trying to think of what to do next.
[Edited by Benjmn on Sunday, March 4, 2007 10:08 PM]
03/02/2007 4:47 AM
The inner conflict raged on in Atticus's mind, now with new combatants: if Atticus was to head south, he may encounter the vampire, but if he doesn't, he will never know what happened to the pale brunette.
He chose to head to Tejanio. It was the right thing to do, or at least it seemed that way.
"Marshal, I'm heading south," stated Atticus. Some of the on looking crowd looked around in disbelief; it seemed as though he was going after that vampire, but Atticus was secretly hoping he wouldn't even sense it.
"I understand," replied the Marshal sympathetically. He knew Atticus's story well. The loss of his pregnant wife was a terrible blow.
Meanwhile, in Tejanio, three miles south...
A gaunt man was trying to drag a lifeless body towards a fresh, maple coffin. It seemed as though he was struggling.
He dropped the body, and bolted upright. He could feel the feeling of the Hex in his veins.
"Lil' Jeri, is that you?" he said, squinting. "My eyesight is not what it used to be."
03/02/2007 6:28 AM
Ed had wandered into town after his failed stake-out, his face taught as he frowned in disgrace. That was when he saw it. A pale man collapsing near a crowd, the people watching him as he screamed. He seemed to be in great distress. Marinville watched him carefully, his hand habitually moving his his right Revolver. His head jolted right, the Marshal had come out and was walking to the screaming man. They seemed to know eachother. Eds hand moved closer to his Revolver, he didn't trust lawmen. Not after what they did to his daughter...
Thats when it happened, the screaming man opened fire on the Corrupted being that the people had crowded around. Its body disintigrated into small verminesque creatures. He then slowly turned, mentioning going south. Ed ran over, catching up with him after a short jog.
"Hey, kid. Tejanio is no place for a amateur."
03/02/2007 11:05 AM
(OOC: Wow, fourth page! My very first RP is doing well, don't you think?)
"Amateur? Son, I'm older than I look," said Atticus, trying something resembling humour. It didn't go down too well. He had to shrug off the feeling of stares racing over his figure, especially his wrinkled, weathered face.
A new chapter was unfolding in Atticus's life, one filled with revelations. It was time for him to leave his home, and begin a fresh adventure. It was exhilarating, sending shivers up and down his spine.
"What's your name?" asked Atticus towards the younger man who had confronted. Atticus's heartbeat was quickening with the excitement of going back to Tejanio. He had spent weeks there in a drunken haze after graduating from school. Although, the school he attended was highly unusual.
In the school, Atticus learned of various uses of the Hex. He was taught useful things, such as hunting in the wilderness, to significantly more sinister things; grasping a man's heart, and squeezing until blood poured from every orifice was a disturbing sight, even more so when no one lays a finger on him.
Atticus banished the memories of that pace from his mind for the time being. He had other things to focus on, such as this Ed character, and various other shady people who were cowering behind walls of men.
"I'm coming," whispered Atticus to himself, starting towards a tied up Soldier.
Deciding upon walking for a bit, Atticus headed south. Others were sure the follow, Atticus could already feel them coming.
03/02/2007 11:21 AM
Ash was one of them. She never was the kind of girl who could just sit back and wait to see how things would unfold, or the kind of girl who would let her curiosity, however dangerous, go unsated.
As soon as she saw Atticus leaving, she hurried after him, without even bothering to grab her horse in her haste.
"Atticus, right? Look, I'm coming with ya too. If ya try to stop me ... well, it would be just plain silly. I'd follow behind ya anyways, so don't bother." Her tone was insolent, and for some reason almost challenging; as if she wanted him to tell her she couldn't go. Obviously, she was the type of girl who thrived on conflict.
Without waiting for him to even say yay or nay on the matter, she forged on in her little speech. "Don't bother asking me why I wanna go neither, it won't do you no good, cause if you ask I'd just lie to ya, so don't waste the breath." Again, that same blend of challenge and defiance, rather as if she expected him to tell her no, and already had her response planned out in her head to his refusal.
03/02/2007 11:48 AM
"Pleased to meet you, miss ... um ... sorry, but I don't know your name," announced Atticus. He was feeling a lot calmer now than he had a few hours earlier. He went so far as to chance a quick smile to himself.
He noticed something unusual about this woman. He could feel it, shaking his bones, tormenting him, but he just couldn't catch it.
Atticus smothered a yawn, suddenly feeling very tired. He hadn't realised that he was operating off of pure adrenaline. He was not surprised at his abrupt weariness, as he always worked well using that pulsating symphony of rhythms of his rapid heartbeat and of the Hex to his advantage.
The sun was beginning to rise in the east, the Far East. The sky turned to an orchestra of colours, ranging from blues to purples to reds. Atticus marvelled at the sheer beauty of it all. Gone was the pale moon, and the thoughts of impending doom it usually brought.
It was a new dawn, a new day, and not necessarily just for Atticus.
He glanced around, back at the town. For the first time in years, he saw the crooked sign that marked its entrance. In black paint, it read: Morrigan's Hill.
Atticus knew who Morrigan was; she craved battle, and brought many to their deaths, either leading them, or murdering them with her own hands. The town was doomed from the day it was founded by that horrible wretch of a woman.
[Edited by Propaganda on Friday, March 2, 2007 11:54 AM]
03/02/2007 12:33 PM
Atticus was leaving.
Now Corey was more than a little bull-headed; once he had decided on something, it was very hard to divert him. He had decided to keep the girl alive, and he had decided to ask this "Atticus" about the abomination.
The man Corey had pinned spoke, "She's a corruption! She turned my brother then killed him."
Corey was not completely sure what a "corruption" was, but he had a pretty good idea what the man meant. Corey decided on what to do. He pulled violently on the man's arm, and there was an audible pop as the shoulder dislocated. He stood and spoke.
"She ain't a corruption. Your brother, the one with the glowing green eyes and fangs, he was a corruption. I've had enough of this town."
He started to walk around the jail. He had seen a pen, for prisoner's horses he guessed, behind it. He stopped and turned to the redhead. "You coming?"
03/02/2007 10:27 PM
"Ashlyn...Just Ash if ya don't mind." It was rather obvious that she had bit her last name back. She had no idea on wheter this happarent hunter of corruptions would have heard of her family, she rather seriously doubted it in fact, but no sense in taking chances.
Ash was neither tired nor particularly awake, in fact, she was feeling that in between feeling, the one that is at once on the brink of both being completly awake and being completly exhausted. A gentle push in one way or the other would push her over the edge, but she didn't really mind. She was quite used to pushing her body past what was comfortable to satisfy her own desires. Just because she had no idea on what she would satisfy by going on the trip with Atticus was a moot point, she was going to satisfy something and that's all that mattered. Perhaps if she figured out just what this Bloodmire family was all about, figured out if they were happy or sad or neither, better or worse than everyone else ... well, maybe then she would get her answer.
03/04/2007 1:20 AM
Atticus knew this Ashlyn woman was hiding something from him. He didn't mind though, as he was sure she had a half decent reason for doing so.
He chugged on, his powerful legs carrying him along the hardpan like a steam engine fighting its way up a mountain. Dust swirled through the air, on the tracks of a gentle breeze.
Atticus breathed in a fresh, morning breath. He felt oddly invigorated by dawn, something he could never have explained in his entire time spent in the realm of life. Maybe he would figure out life's mysteries in death. Time will let its stories unravel when it decides they are ready.
Atticus knew trouble was ahead. In Tejanio, there was always trouble. He began running through mental exercises that had been taught to him, desperately trying to ready himself for the forthcoming hard times.
Still, a positive outlook remained in his soul, and he carried on with his new companion, Ashlyn, at his side. A fresh page, a new chapter...
03/04/2007 9:27 AM
:::Visions of blood drenched blades and high strung gallows danced along the background of a scene of true horror blood pooled ankle deep in Tejanio's "Hollow Hill Church of God" Pews became altars as one by one the children lay down to drive the communal blade into their chests. Thirty six in all that number burned into the foreground of the playing memory and a small boy approached the pulpit from under the baptismal pit. Father Bloodmire stood giving his sermon to the lifeless bodies and bade his son,"drink of the blood and the souls of innocence and end your life." Andrew Bloodmire II became a god that night and little Jericho, pulling the cross from the wall, became a murderer...and drank of Father Bloodmire in kind.:::
A single tear of chrimson trailed down Jericho's cheek as he saw his father for the first time in many years.
"Well Pa...you told me ta find ya. So here I am...I want my key Pa...You promised me my key."
03/04/2007 10:13 AM
"Lil' Jeri, is that you?" the grave-keeper said, squinting. "My eyesight is not what it used to be."
Looking towards the entrance to the yard, he saw a dark figure, a familiar one. It could have been the grave-keeper in his younger days.
"The key, lil' Jeri, is the only thing that is letting me keep the majority of my sanity. If I pass it on to you ... it will end me," he said, displaying the key that he had tied around his neck. It was a keepsake, an heirloom of the Bloodmire clan.
The key was a golden colour, with a blood red glaze covering it.
"It's your choice: my sanity or your greed, your lust for power. It will be your end, Jeri; it will be your end."
He threw the key towards the dark figure, not waiting for an answer. In truth, he already knew what the blurry shape would choose. [i]He always was a greedy bastard,[/i] thought the grave-keeper.
His face started distorting, twisting, and decaying. The putrid smell of burning flesh filled the air.
"You'll burn in hell, you'll burn in hell, and you'll burn in hell..."
The gave-keeper dropped to the ground. His breathing halted.
03/04/2007 8:17 PM
Luna stood up and looked over Martin, he had cared for her, given her a home, loved her. She ran to his side, "Martin, are you hurt," Kneeling next to him tears still in her eyes, "Martin," Her words were cut short by a hefted blow to the chest from Martin's other arm coursing him to collapse, "I don't need you help," standing to his feet. Hocking up his gun from the ground with his free arm and firing at her, the effect was somewhat bizarre. From the ignition cap spark burst a ball of flame enveloping Martins hand and gun in a millisecond, both melted, Luna was showered in molten metal from the bullet. Martin fell to the floor yelling in pain, Luna screamed as the metal touched her skin, the crowd went into uproar, "Hang the witch."
Luna turned to the man that had attacked Martin and whimpered, "There going to kill me," as the hoard grabbed her. The Marshal stepped in, "You folk all manor of crazy today, this girl isn't a witch, she's a Hexer as that goes you aint welcome her miss," pointing after Atticus, "Your gona leave now." He took his gun out and pointed her on, Luna staggered to her feet and walked onwards at a slow pace she looked at the crippled Martin as she left, She could barely walk in a strait line, wondering from side to side... "Black," she fell to the floor just past the boundary
03/04/2007 10:06 PM
When she did not respond, Corey shrugged and walked behind the jail, where he did indeed find his horse. They had not even bothered to unsaddle it, a fact that his horse was very unhappy about. Things had been a little rushed, he thought to himself.
"Sorry, boy, can't take it off just yet," he said to his horse as he checked the fastenings and led Arrow out of the pen. He led the horse around the bank, to see the redhead blow up the man he had left writhing in pain's gun up. The explosion once again roused the townspeople that had hid when a REAL monster showed up, and they did not seem any less adamant about killing her. She looked up at him, terror on her face, and said,
"They're going to kill me."
Before he had a chance to do anything, the Marshal of the town stepped in. He effortlessly handled the mob, but apparently even his powers of persuasion were limited. He pointed his gun at the girl and ordered her out of town. There was pity in his eyes. He then turned to Corey.
"These folks have murder on their minds. I would leave if I were you."
"Was already planning on it, Marshal," he responded, turning to follow the girl.
She was collapsed just on the edge of town. He walked to where she was, still leading his horse, and checked her. Other than some nasty little burns, she seemed fine. Had she passed out from using the hex?
"Never heard of that before, but that covers a lot," he thought to himself. He bent over and said to her, "Wake up ma'esó (little red), I think these people want us to leave."
When she did not stir, he set her on his horse. He was about to mount behind her, but Arrow gave him a horse's equivalent of a glare when he started to, so instead he led the tired animal, following Atticus's trail. He was still determined to find out exactly what those monsters had been. He hoped the girl had somewhere to stay, because he had definitely not planned on having a traveling companion.
[Edited by Benjmn on Sunday, March 4, 2007 11:00 PM]
03/05/2007 6:24 AM
Ed had replied pleasently, albeit a few days ago,
"Edward Marinville, and I already know your name..."
Ed followed in awed silence, not making any dangerous moves towards the mans character, he knew this man wasn't that type.
He stayed close throughout the rest of the trip, trying to stay close. He'd stayed a bit behind Atticus. Tejanio was a rogue country, what rules were in place were ignored. Bandits were always a problem, especially at night. You could be the best shot in the world, but you'd still never hit a Bandit on a sand-stallion. Never.
When thay reached the town, Ed split for a bit. He'd decided he was going to get to the closest Saloon and stake out the locals. Maybe fond out who was the Big Cheese in fair city. It didn't go well, Ed thought after taping up his wounds, I got the bruises to prove it.
03/05/2007 12:04 PM
The name of the small, dust-caked town of Santa Rosa rang a bell in Atticus's mind. He couldn't quite remember why, but it was of some significance in the past. It was also where he hoped to find the Pinkerton boss.
[i]The agent must be here,[/i] thought Atticus. He could only vaguely feel the agent's presence, and even then it was a faint tingle in the pit of his stomach.
Bandits were on either side of the street, eyeing up the town's new arrivals. They were obviously bandits, as each of them had a revolver holstered at their hips. Atticus knew the bandits were no match for his motley crew of gunslingers, but he wasn't sure if the Tejanians knew that.
"Hey, gringos!" shouted a voice from the end of the street.
Atticus could make out a thin shape with a rifle strapped to his back. The Tejanian was keeping a safe distance. That distance could save his life if the time came to draw arms.
Cautiously, Atticus put one foot in front of the other, until he was close enough to make out the man's rugged face. He hadn't shaven in about a week, and he smelled strongly of horses. Atticus relaxed shoulders, and tried not to breath through his nose.
The man was trying to loosen the strap the held his rifle in place, so Atticus, recognising this as a threat, did the same with the Blue Rose.
The pair stared each other down. Atticus steadied his breathing.
Atticus reached into the Hex, and focussed on that singular heartbeat.
He felt a slight change in the man's balance. He was readying himself for the shot.
A roar echoed through the streets of Santa Rosa. The rifleman collapsed face first in the dirt. The onlookers cheered, confusing Atticus.
"Why?" he asked the nearest Tejanian.
"He was the local drunk and no-one liked him," he replied. "Besides, everyone loves a standoff, especially with a gun like that."
Atticus looked at the Blue Rose. It had been made in Santa Rosa by a gunsmith, Eli, now deceased.
The Blue Rose was considered Eli's magnum opus. It was a working piece of art. It had two hammers, one fired normally; the other fired a counter-rotating inner-chamber a split second after the first, through the same barrel.
[Edited by Propaganda on Monday, April 2, 2007 4:33 AM]
03/05/2007 1:00 PM
~ First foot, second foot, first foot and step, these weren't my legs but I was dancing, hot blur, tears, steam? ~
Luna fell from the horse with a sudden flop, her head hitting the hardened ground, pain and past kicked in, Luna didn't move. ~ If Martin loved me then why would he tried to kill me, why did I fight back if I loved him, couldn't I die? If it was me I would have, Martin was everything, if I'm not me then what am I a voice, an echo, who is it that did that, took my body, took me, took I. ~
*Was I always here? How much do you need me? Do I want to save us? What is us?*
~ I don't know, I was I but now it feels if we are I, are we? ~
*I don't know, I am I, you are I, I is I.*
~ Then I is I ~
*Then I wish to save us*
Luna's face was streaming tears as she open her eyes, "They were, he was, you could kill me," looking at the man standing over her, "What do I do?" Her dress was a mess, she was battered from that day, burns on her skin had coloured her flesh pink in places, "How are you?"
03/05/2007 2:51 PM
Ash had slowly pushed her gun back into it's holster. She had been prepared to shoot the man while the two boyos were having their stupid little stand off, luckily it hadn't come to that. She doubt the crowd would be cheering if the stand off had ended in a non'honorable' way. As if such things had any place for honor.
With a scoff and roll of her eyes she walked forward, ignoring any looks or conversastion that was held around her. All she wanted to do was find a palce to sleep, not because she was tired, but because she knew her body needed rest if she was to fullfill her new obession: finding out if power was worht it.
With an almost belated air, she stopped, turning to look back towards Atticus. Logically, she knew she would need his help. There was no way she could handle that bloodmire man, and while she had no idea if Atticus could...he had a much better chance than she did, besides, even if he couldn't, his fight would weaken Bloodmire, which was good enough for her. "Comin', Atticus?" The girl's cloudy green eyes stared at right through Atticus, as if she was looking at the scenery behind him without ever seeing him; or, if she did see him, she saw him as one would see a post of word, completly ornamental and not living. AFter all, she couldn't afford to see the man she might end up sacrificing as anything remotely human.
03/05/2007 3:29 PM
Corey looked down the road, and tried to think. He was tired, his horse was tired, and this girl was...well, he knew she was tired. Her other problems he could not begin to guess at. He could stop and try to take care of her now, but he was no doctor. Or he could keep riding after Atticus, but he had no idea how far the next town was.
"You could leave her," went through his head. "She is the source of your problems, and it's not like she's helpless. She burned the house and blew up the gun."
He quickly dismissed the idea, but it lingered in the back of his mind.
"Not till the next town. Not in the middle of nowhere." he muttered, deciding on a course of action. He would stop when he reached a town, get her a doctor, and then his duty would be fulfilled. The plan left him feeling guilty, but he pushed away the unwanted emotion, a little irritated at having felt it.
Then he heard a sliding and a thump. He identified it as the girl falling, and stopped. He looked up from Atticus and company's trail, and walked over to where the girl lay. He stood next to her, moving slowly because he was tired and because he knew whatever damage the fall had done was already done. She looked up at him with a tear-streamed and dirty face, a sight that caused pangs of pity in his chest and resurrected the guilt he had felt upon deciding to leave her. Then she spoke.
"They were, he was, you could kill me," looking at the man standing over her, "What do I do?" Her dress was a mess, she was battered from that day, burns on her skin had coloured her flesh pink in places, "How are you?"
Corey was a little confused as to why she said her first statement. He chalked it up to shock or something. Then he squatted down next to her and answered her questions, and held out a hand to help her up.
"Well, I'm not gonna tell you what to do, but I think you should get back on the horse and try to sleep. You've had a rough night and this ain't a good place to be stopping. And I'm fine. Name's Corey, by the way. "
[Edited by Benjmn on Monday, March 5, 2007 7:24 PM]
03/06/2007 9:53 AM
"Luna, I'm Luna," she shivered as she spoke, "It's cold," she turned her dirty swollen face to him, "I'm sorry," she turned her head away, "I've coursed you problems," tears still rolled down her cheeks from the fall. She took his hand but was unsteady on her feet and walked on a bit from him, "You can leave me here if I'm a problem," she turned back to him, "Not that don't want your help but," Turning back, "Why would you want to stay with me?"
She didn't want to cause Corey a problem but she didn't want to be ungrateful for what he had done. She let out a sigh, "Martin."
[Edited by LunaMaria on Tuesday, March 6, 2007 9:55 AM]
03/06/2007 12:27 PM
And there it was. She was actually offering to walk away right then and there. Indecision played across his face as he sorted out exactly why leaving her would be wrong, but then things sort of clicked into place in his head.
"Miss Luna, you haven't caused me any problems. Unnatural monsters and bloodthirsty townsfolk, they caused us both some problems last night. If you want to leave, I won't stop you. From what I've heard, though, this is not a good place to be by yourself. Besides, right now I think we're headed in the same direction. That is, unless you want to try to go back to the town that just tried repeatedly to kill you."
03/07/2007 5:37 AM
Atticus felt for the Pinkerton agent, searching for his most likely location. Faintly... he was in the cemetery outside of town. While he was there, he decided to pay his respects to the grave of Coyo.
"The Pinkerton agent is close... really close," said Atticus to himself.
Atticus had been to Santa Rosa countless times, and it changed little in that time. He knew it had some distant past as a monastery to the Hex that was destroy in a vicious dust storm. That killed the monastery's inhabitants, causing it to fall into disuse. It was discovered as a ruin, built upon, and named after the saint who founded the place. The Hex truly did work in mysterious ways, which are supposedly preordained.
Thinking about it, Atticus thought this was all just a trap, set up by those scheming, Hex-haters that call themselves the Pinkerton Mid-Western Detective Agency. He hoped this was the right thing to do, to be chasing this person. [i]Right the wrongs Atticus, right the wrongs.[/i]
03/07/2007 9:00 AM
"If you want me to come I will," looking at him her tears stopping, "I don't want to go back, but where are you going, what happen back in town?"She walked back over to him as if she didn't care about the answers, not wanting to be alone without anyone, almost wanting him to hug her, "It's doesn't matter anyway, if I can come with you," taking a breath, "You can does as you wish with me," looking to the ground, she had nothing else to offer him.
She waited trembling for his response, hoping that he was a gentleman and wouldn't do such things to her, she had one other thing in the back of her mind as she started at the floor.
~ Who is Atticus, why does it matter to me? ~
[Edited by LunaMaria on Wednesday, March 7, 2007 1:22 PM]
03/07/2007 10:57 AM
Corey was surprised, to say the least. Confused could also apply. The only women he had really spent any time around were the bar-girls from his father's twice-annual resupply trips and the girls of the Tuska tribe. None of them had acted like this. Answering her questions seemed like a safe answer.
"Uh...I'm going after Atticus. To Tejania, I think. Since you seem to want to come along, why don't you get back on the horse? I don't exactly know the way, so I'm tracking the folks who were headed there from Morrigan's Hill. I have to walk to track, at least till the sun is all the way up. Anyway...can we get going? I heard talk of bandits on this road...you know, before they decided I was a murderer. I don't want to spend any more time on this road than I have to."
Were those hoofbeats he heard real or imagined?
[Edited by Benjmn on Wednesday, March 7, 2007 11:17 AM]
03/07/2007 11:07 AM
An exhausted Jericho stood over the ashes of his father and smiled. he grasped the key so hard his hand bled and he placed the loop around his neck ever so slowly. As the key hit his chest, memories flooded back to him in a raging torrent of every evil done by his family and he smiled as he took in the power of past generations and the secret...to creating a key. Ther was one problem, there was no child for Jericho, no son or daughter so who would carry the power when he was dust? Who would his soul reside within? Jericho sensed a prescence nearing the cemetary. He drew his revolving shotguns and jumped up against the archway and willed the hex to hold him there, reclining casually under the cross as he awaited whoever came.
03/07/2007 1:37 PM
"I will," looking up at him with relief, she wavered then struggled to clamber onto the horse. She was wearing a skirt that was most inappropriate for riding a horse meaning she couldn't put her feet into the stirrups and had to have both her legs on one side, which was by no means comfortable. Luna clung to the saddle with both hands, horse riding wasn't something she was used to.
After slipping out of the saddle for the second time she asked, "Would it be ok if I walked?" looking over at Corey who was still leading the horse on. Looking to her right, "Who do you think they are?" pointing to a trail of dust coming towards them, to her this seemed normal for out here, having never left the town she was pretty clueless.
03/07/2007 4:47 PM
(OOC: ooh! a fight scene :D)
Corey looked up, and groaned. He had hoped it was just his tired brain playing tricks on him. He walked around his horse, and pulled his rifle and a bag full of ammo for it from the saddle, then slapped the animal on the rear. He had trained it to come to his call, so he was not particularly worried about finding it. He would have put the girl on it, but she would have fallen.
"Bandits. Get down," he said to Luna while doing so himself. He tossed his revolver at her. "Here, use this if they get too close to you."
He loaded his weapon and sighted at the cloud of dust. He could see nothing; but he could feel them. There were the large thuds of their horses hearts, and the smaller beats of the men. He could feel five. Two broke off and rode after his horse, while the other three came after him. He focused on one of them, and felt the man push back. Now, this surprised Corey, but he was bullheaded and so tried again. This time he pulled off a shot before he felt the return push, and then willed his bullet to hit. There was a flash of what Corey assumed was hex, and Corey actually felt the man in his own mind, pushing against his desire for the bullet to hit. It apparently did not work, because now he only felt four human hearts.
The concussion of his first shot still ringing in his ears, he reloaded and focused on the next man down the line. He could feel them focusing on him, but ignored them. Their shots rang out, but hit the dirt. His .50 rifle had a significantly longer range than did their weapons. He fired, and felt the same resistance, only stronger this time, but he still managed to hit. While reloading, he felt literally dizzy with weariness from the strain, and when he focused on the next man he was easily pushed off.
He switched his focus to the horse beneath the man, and fired, then reloaded. The massive bullet hit the chest of the magnificent animal in a straight path from the gun to the heart, and its rider was thrown. Hex flashed again and the bandit managed to land on his feet, but stumbled drunkenly. Corey's next shot, unaided by the hex, tore a hole in the man's chest.
He sensed the other men change direction, no longer wanting his horse, but wanting vengeance. He came up on one knee to face the direction they were coming from. They were too close. He felt one of them, in his head. He pushed as hard as he could against the other man, and the shot flew past his head. The other man, coming in on Corey's left and who apparently did not have the hex, fired across his horse, knocking the hat off of Corey's head. He fired point blank with the big rifle at the hexer, having to angle it up because the man was so close. It tore into the man's right shoulder, knocking him off of his horse and nearly taking his arm off. Then he swung it like a club into the other man, who was riding past him.
He felt the shock of the blow run down the gun and through his arms. The rifle was knocked from his hands and the man fell off of his horse. He pulled the tomahawk from his belt and ran at the man. He raised it to hit, and found himself staring down a revolver.
The bandit stood, pure fury on his face.
"Drop the hatchet, boy." Corey complied. The bandit continued, "We were just going to take your horse, your guns and your money. And probably your woman, but she would have lived. Now, boy, I'm gonna kill you real slow. I'll sell the woman in Tejania, if she lives that long. The boys back at camp can be a little rough."
"Play with fire and you'll get burned," Corey said, recalling what had happened to the last few people who had tried to hurt the girl. At the same time he whistled for his horse and tried to send it the image of the man as a lone coyote.
03/08/2007 11:11 AM
Luna watched as Corey fired at the men coming towards them, she could hear a voice in her head again louder than before but still she couldn't hear what it was saying. She was already on the ground as Corey had ordered clutching the gun to her breast having no idea how to use it.
Luna was nearly trampled by the man on the horse as he went past her falling to the ground inches from her, ~ Kill ~ Luna got to her feet backing away from the man as he pulled a gun on Corey, Luna dropped then gun, "Play with fire and you'll get burned," The man looked at him, your a fool.
He shot at Corey's face, the gun worked normally, Luna leapt forward, "No," her arms thrust out at him, the bullet was visible and came to a stop with the smell of burning inches from Corey, it dropped to the floor.
The man turned on Luna and lifted the gun to shoot at her, the voice screamed in her head, the ignition clicked but this time the whole man was alight. Luna smiled, not just smiled she pointed and laughed at them man, as he was burned to a crisp in extreme pain, "Now what to do with you?" turning on Corey as the other man fell to his knees. Lashings of fire came from the body and sailed past him as he stood looking at her.
03/08/2007 12:50 PM
Corey had half expected her to shoot the man, half expected his horse to kick the man. He had not expected the surge in what he was beginning to think of as his sixth sense to overpower what she normally felt like, or for her to stop bullets or laugh maniacally at the man she burned's pain.
She did not feel like her anymore. She did not look like her anymore either. Her eyes were bright with...something, her hair whipped around her head in a mane as the fires she created whipped the air around her. As she spoke, her voice full of confidence, even arrogance, Corey got the impression that there were two people standing in front of him. It should have been terrifying.
Maybe he was just tired, maybe he had seen too much in the past few hours to really be surprised at all, but he felt nothing but exhaustion.
"Miss Luna, you just stopped a bullet from hitting my face. Are you gonna burn me now? Cus if you aren't, I'd like to get to a town and sleep. For a week."
Then he unhurriedly bent over and picked up his tomahawk, walked over to pick up his rifle, and walked over to pick up his pistol. Some apprehension as to what was happening behind his back started to grow, as the fact that his life was being threatened started to catch up with him, but he shrugged it off. Whatever happened next was outside his control. Maybe someone who knew what the heck they were doing with the hex could do something against this heávôheve (devil) that the seemingly helpless girl had turned into, but he couldn't.
03/09/2007 11:40 AM
Atticus felt something in the Hex, something powerful. He tried to shake it off, but it was quite overwhelming, even though it was quite a ways away.
He glanced out towards the desert expanse he had come from. Something had been following him, maybe a Hexer. A Corruption was within the realm of possibility.
The thought of a Corruption tracking a hunter was disturbing, to say the least. They seem to be evolving, learning and, if so, must have some form of communication on a level humans could only dream about, and never understand.
That persistent, nagging feeling he had seemed so abstract; so unexpected. Maybe he was just tired; maybe it caught him off guard. One thing is for certain though, it was not pleasant. It just wasn't adding up in Atticus's well educated mind. He had after all spent years in that dreadful place, supposedly a school, learning the ways of the Hex.
So many of his classmates were still there, their minds lost forever.
03/09/2007 11:49 AM
Her mind swam, ~ Like breathing in honey ~
* He'll kill me *
~ No he wants to help me ~
* Why, what in it for him? *
~ It's a good thing to do ~
* Theres no such thing as good and evil, you must know that *
~ There is, Why else would Martin help me before ~
* He tried to kill me *
~ Your aren't me, Martin wouldn't hurt me ~
* boring *
Luna fell back, blank, the last thing she could remember was Corey giving her a gun, his back was turned, "Are you ok?,"putting her hand his shoulder, "What happened?"
The body behind her smouldered, the stench of burn flesh filled the air.
03/09/2007 3:07 PM
He felt relief when he felt his hand on her shoulder and heard her speak. He had gambled that attacking would get him killed and talking would keep him alive, and apparently his wager had payed off. The smell of burned flesh was in the air, and the man whose shoulder had been blown open moaned in pain. A quick glance confirmed that he would be dead from blood loss soon. He turned to face Luna, and saw his horse returning behind her. One of the bandits horses was nosing around his master, and Corey thought that he should probably catch it. Maybe the others, also.
"Well, you saved my life and then, in so many words, threatened to kill me. I don't guess you know how you stop bullets or make guns explode, do you?"
03/09/2007 4:17 PM
The sharp sound of a pair of fingers snapping resonated in the air. Ash had gotten rather annoyed with the way Atticus had been keeping to himself and not even glancing her way throughout the little travelling bit.
"Boyo! " Her voice was harsh, irritated, and on edge from the same nagging feeling that was plaguing Atticus. Though, unlike him, she would never put any credit to it, or even acknowledge it in any way.
"How much further is it?" She didn't bother to say to where, after all, both she and Atticus knew where the Vampire had went to, why bother saying the name.
03/10/2007 4:02 AM
Ashlyn... Atticus had completely forgotten about her. Her snapping fingers grabbed his attention.
"Sorry, Ashlyn... I... was just thinking," said Atticus, preferring to use people's full names. "I apologise."
He truly was sorry. Another woman in his life was angry with him, as he was angry with himself. [i]Damn the Hex [/i], thought Atticus, feeling a fresh, new crimson colour rise in his cheeks.
He looked away from Ashlyn. He couldn't bear to let her see him like this, at least, not yet. Atticus wiped his brow of sweat. The sun was starting its first wave of heat.
"Not much further. He is just outside of town," said Atticus, replying to the question he was asked, undoubtedly about the vampire. The same Corruption that taught him a lesson in Morrigan's Hill, one he would never forget.
Atticus was pleased. He was learning again, and he adored the whole process. Knowledge was power, after all.
03/10/2007 5:08 AM
Ashlyn honestly could care less if the man was embaressed or not, though, at the fringes of her mind she did find him blushing to be rather funny.
Her shoulders shrugged slightly, almost wishing the distant was further than what it was. If she were to be completly honest with herself, she would have to admit to the fact that she wasn't at all sure that going to see the big nasty vampire was a bright idea at all. In fact, she was almost positive that it would turn out to be a horrible, horrible idea.
All the same, she did have to find out if the Hex would be worth it.
With a distracted sigh her gaze kept sliding from the man, her movements getting more nervous by the minute. She never did any large nervous gestures, but just minor ones; playing with the hem of her sleeves or shirt, brushing her fingertips through her hair or over her gun, minor little gestures like that. Not at all out of the oridinary, barring the fact she was doing them constantly, having to keep her hands moving at all times.
Ashlyn, of course, didn't even notice that she was doing them. Too lost in her own thoughts to notice her minor physical actions.
03/10/2007 10:00 AM
Luna shook her head, "No," looking puzzled, "What do you mean I tried to kill you," trailing off as her attention was taken by the groaning man behind her, "Shouldn't we help him," As the horse walked past her giving off a snort. She takes a step toward the wounded man and hears a crack from under her, Luna looks down and freezes with fright, she's standing in a blacked corpse. She closes her eyes and tries to pull her foot out, it's catches inside the body's ribcage, Luna falls to the ground with her eyes still closed. She peeks out at the body and lets out a low whine, "Help."
03/10/2007 12:40 PM
Corey almost could not believe the change. The fire was gone; she was meek, scared, and helpless again. She had managed to get her foot stuck in the corpse of the man she had killed. He considered not telling her that the blackened corpse was her handiwork; but he was not used to deception and did not plan on getting that way.
He walked over to her, picking up his hat (which had a new hole in it) on the way. He squatted down, took hold of the ribs holding her foot, and yanked them apart. They broke off pretty easily; he had burned hot. He pulled her foot out and then spoke.
"No, we shouldn't help him. He'll be dead in a few minutes and there is nothing that can be done except to bring him to it faster. Bullet busted a big vein."
She apparently was not used to death. He had seen death before, in the animals that had been his livelihood and in the squatters on Tuska land that they would find every now and then after the Tuskas were through with them. He stood and held out a sooty hand to help her up.
"And yes, you did threaten me. I am not sure if it was with death, to be honest, but after you burned this fella (he gestured to the blackened corpse) you turned to me and said 'now what to do with you.' And your face sure didn't look like you had anything pleasant in mind."
03/13/2007 12:05 PM
Ashlyn's constant miniscule movements distracted Atticus. He was about to tell her to stop, but swallowed the thought of speech at the last second. [i]Everyone has there own mannerisms [/i], he thought.
He shook his head. He was starting to feel a bit edgy, as if something momentous was on the verge of happening. But nothing did happen.
[i]Old Man Coyote plays cruel tricks on aging minds[/i].
Atticus had heard that saying on one of his hunts. He couldn't remember when, or from whom for that matter, but nevertheless it had stuck itself to his mind. He thought it was a hunt on Native land. He had brought a Tuskan along as a guide, who dished out snippets of wisdom on the journey to a werewolf's lair.
Old Man Coyote, otherwise known as the Trickster, was a mythological being in folklore of the Tuska tribe. If legend was correct, he would be old as the universe itself. Old Man, indeed.
Atticus pulled a hand-rolled cigar from a pocket inside his coat. He lit it and savoured the flavours; the aroma of quality tobacco filled the air. The nagging in the Hex persisted, the feeling of an important event persisted, but he drifted away from reality. He entered another world, where he saw and understood.
The being spoke words of an archaic tongue he could not normally have been able to decipher, but through the gates of bliss he went, still relishing in the tobacco's rich smells, he could and did.
"Snap out of it," muttered Atticus, realising his tobacco had gone foul. Somebody had probably done it on purpose, adding a dash of a hallucinogenic plant to his stash.
He dropped the smouldering ashes of the cigar to the ground. He didn't bother stamping it out; instead rushing towards the area the Hex was drawing him to, just out side of the small Tejanian town of Santa Rosa.
(I have begun reading the Dark Tower, by the way)
03/13/2007 4:00 PM
Ashlyn had been on the verge of telling the older man to stop talking to the voices inside his head, that it was more than a bit disconcerting to see a grown man randomly talk to the air ... but by the time she had opened her mouth to do so, he had already rushed off.
Not one to be left behind, she had quickly followed, silent complaints sounding through her head. All the same, she had managed to keep pace with the man, her gait more of a lope than a run; her legs eating the ground up with each step.
Finally she voiced the question that had been going through her brain throughout the little run. "Why on earth are we running?"
03/14/2007 12:28 PM
Luna took his hand and he pulled her to his feet, "Thank you," she didn't believe him about her killing people, he was as bad as the people that called her a witch, but he was nice to her, like Martin. "Can we go," not looking back at the groaning man behind her, she want to go, she wanted it to just stop, lay down, she glanced at Corey. Even if he was lieing to her she still trusted him, he must have somewhere to go,she didn't want to be alone.
03/14/2007 3:45 PM
She obviously did not believe him. Oh well. He barely believed it himself, and he had seen her do it.
"Yeah, we can go. I want to catch these horses first though. They are fine animals, worth a good bit of money. And from what I can tell that is not something you have a lot of."
He mounted Arrow and rode over to where the bodies of the the other three lay. Their horses seemed pretty loyal and well trained; they still stood over their master's bodies. Corey dismounted and took hold of their reins. He looked down at the corpses, and realized that these men had been pretty well off. He took their gunbelts and rifles, and tied them to their horses saddles. No reason not to, he told himself. He took one of their hats as well, replacing his own. No reason to have a bullet-holed hat when he did not have to. He considered searching them for money, but for some reason he felt that would be going too far.
He rode back to the girl, leading the two horses. He dismounted and walked over to the hexer he had wounded. He recalled his father saying something about making always making sure of a hexer ("Or they're likely to come after you when you least expect it"), so he drew his knife and slit the man's throat. Doing so brought bile to his throat, but you could never trust hexers to stay dead. Or so his father had told him. He then took this man's gunbelt and horse, and then walked over to the burnt corpse. His stuff was pretty useless thanks to the fire, but his horse was still hanging around.
Arrow was tired, so he mounted one of the bandit's horses after tying their reins to the saddle of the one he mounted. It was a brown mare, strong and from what he had seen, fast. It was unused to him riding it, but after protesting for a bit it calmed. He rode over to Luna, and offered her a hand up. She may not be able to ride alone, but he figured he could keep her on the horse.
"It's light enough for me to be able to see the way without walking, and I figure I can keep you on this horse. Just get on up behind me and hold on. Oh, and unless you plan on staying wherever we're going, you'll probably need a horse, so you might want to pick one of these four while we ride."
Once she mounted Corey did not plan on stopping until he had caught up with Atticus. He was tired, exhausted even, but stubborn and single-minded. He was determined to find out what Atticus seemed to know about the monsters; most importantly, why he (Corey) seemed to be drawn towards them like a moth to a flame.
[Edited by Benjmn on Wednesday, March 14, 2007 10:47 PM]
[Edited by Benjmn on Monday, March 19, 2007 9:25 AM]
03/15/2007 6:49 AM
Atticus turned his head to answer Ashlyn's question about their current pace, but no sound came out. He didn't even know why he was running. He slowed to a walk.
Atticus felt drawn to a place just outside of town. That place, he knew, was a graveyard. In his quest to right the wrongs, it seems that people are dying left and right. First, there was that beautiful brunette. Then, there was the Tejanian drunk. As things usually came in threes, Atticus feared the worst. The Pinkerton boss was unlikely to be living.
He was starting to feel a bit nervous about current events. His tobacco craving was kicking in, giving him shaky hands. He couldn't smoke his cigars, his contaminated, hallucinogenic cigars. He still felt a bit dizzy after that one he had earlier.
If Atticus was to smoke on this goose chase, he would have to purchase some of that foul, Tejanian penny-dreadful stuff. Or maybe some disgusting chewy tobacco from the Southern States.
Hopefully, he could contain his addiction for the time being.
That blue-eyed brunette was still on his conscious. She would be forever, and ever, and ever. [i]That[/i], Atticus thought, [i]was a certainty[/i].
He was determined to cut off the corruption with this Pinkerton, as long as he was still alive. Atticus Harker was still a purifier of corruption, albeit a different kind of foul now lingered in his homeland.
The aging, romantic hero headed for Santa Rosa's graveyard. Others, including Ashlyn, were sure to follow his footsteps.
03/24/2007 1:56 AM
Corey pulled her up in front of him on the horse, sliding himself back as he did so so that she would not be sitting on the saddle horn. It was a little uncomfortable, but at least she would not be falling off this way.
He spurred the horse to a brisk walk, and the town came into sight shortly.
Corey was tired. He wanted to go into town, sell the horses to the livery stable, buy a room, and sleep for a week. But, as he neared the town, he began to feel it. He groaned, because once again he was finding his course change to head towards the wrongness. The town grew on the horizon, and so did a graveyard. Its gate came into focus as he grew closer, and he saw two figures trudging towards it from the town. He spurred the horse to a trot, and changed his course to intercept the two figures.
They came into better focus, and he identified the man as Atticus, the fellow from the town before. He rode up to him, and immediately began speaking.
"Mr. Atticus, you don't know me, but back in Morrigan's Hill there were two things that felt wrong but looked like men. You did not seem surprised by that, but you left before I could ask you anything. So, what are they and why can't I stay away from them?"
[Edited by Benjmn on Saturday, March 24, 2007 1:59 AM]
03/24/2007 8:08 AM
To say that Ashlyn was surprised by the new arrival would have been an understatement. She had let out a rather high pitched gasp when the man spoek, not having expected anyone but Atticus to speak anywhere near her.
Feeling a bit of a fool she turned her gaze to the man, her foggy green eyes sweeping over him slowly. Almost apprasingly, and almost judgingly, but mostly with simple curiosity. She took in his hair, his eyes, everything.
For some reasons he couldn't quite put to words, or even really felt like acknowledging, he felt...like a companion. Like Atticus, if she bothered to think about it. There was no proper reason for her to want to travel with the older man, she could have found her way to the graveyard by herself after all, and yet there she was, following him. It seemed right, and it seemed just as right if not more so, that the stranger would likely be joining their journey.
She shook her head, ridding herself of the foolish thoughts. Must be that less than stellar whiskey, or perhaps she had eaten something that wasn't exactly great for her, maybe she was just going insane. Either way, those type of notions were for foolish girls who dreamed of being swept off their feet; instant comadrie, honestly, as if anyone would even really want that. Ashlyn certainly didn't, she was of the mind set that unless a group struggled together then they weren't truly comrades, friends, what have you, they were just a bunch of people that happened to be near you.
With a sigh she tore her gaze, and thoughts, away from the men. No sense in thinking about why she was there, or worry about instant comadrie or anything of the sort, she'd just think about what she was going to do when she got to the graveyard ... on second thought, she'd just think about the dirt. It was nice dirt, very dusty and dirt like.
03/24/2007 8:34 AM
"They are Corruption of the Hex, my boy," Atticus replied to the new arrival. "You can't stay away from them, because... well, now is not the time to be discussing things of that nature. You can feel one, yes?"
Atticus never liked the cold chill of a Corruption that shot through the Hex, and then up his spine. Sadly, it was a necessity in his line of work. It helped, whether it was pleasant or not.
He could almost feel the Corruption, the same one from earlier, breathing its icy breath down his neck. He shivered. Instinctively, he reached for the tobacco pouch at his hip.
[i]Damn it[/i], he thought, [i]damn it all. I can smell the beast, let alone feel it[/i].
Atticus drew his trusty weapon, and walked toward the graveyard, careful not to make too much noise, or disturb too much dusty dirt. The realm of death was strong here, and ol' Grim will be on time. [i]Or already has been[/i].
03/27/2007 6:36 PM
Corey dismounted and helped Luna down.
"I'm going after him. The corruption over there is driving me nuts, and I don't think I want to let this man die before he answers my second question."
He jogged over to the graveyard fence, and tied the horses to it, tightly.
"Hope they are still here when I get back," he muttered.
He detached his .50 rifle from Arrow's saddle, and briskly walked to catch up with the old hexer. He reloaded the rifle as he did so, and loosened his pistol in its holster as well. He wanted to be ready for this corruption, yet he had the feeling it was more than he could handle; its void felt like more than he could fill, at least by himself.
03/28/2007 5:59 AM
Jericho looked up, or rather, down, from his inverted perch in the upper cup of the stone archway and smiled. Approaching him were familiar faces, one of them the man who so basely had executed many a gifted bloodsucker. The power of his family's curse vibrated him to the very core with raw power. However, power wasn't always the answer as he knew and he decided to approach the situation a bit more...[i]delicately[/i]
Drawing a miniscule amount of his phenominal power, Jericho Bloodmire sank into the stone and tapped into The Whisper and spoke ever so softly into the mind of the one he remembered as Atticus.
[i]"So you finally found me eh? What now Slayer? What d'ya achieve here Murderer of my kin? Know that this place is hallowed unto MY father...MY almighty...and tread not in this place 'less you ain't afeared of death incarnate. You been warned [b]ATTICUS[/b] so lessen yer here to make a deal I'd suggest you git."[/i]
03/28/2007 9:24 AM
Luna was feeling slightly sick from the horse ride wavered by the gate as Corey entered the graveyard. He had left her and because of this she was worried, she didn't want to be alone, not knowing what to do she turned to see what the lady still standing outside.
Wind whipped slightly and dust got into her eye, she took her hand and wiped it but not before it started to water. Luna looked back after Corey and whispered, "You will come back?"
[Edited by LunaMaria on Thursday, March 29, 2007 11:39 AM]
03/29/2007 6:50 AM
The whispering voices in his head were insufferable. They sounded as though the voice was his own, a part of his conscience. Atticus needed to stop them before he succumbed to madness.
"Bloodmire, is that you?" Atticus asked into the sinister graveyard, unable to see into the inexplicable darkness. He secretly hoped it was that particular vampire, and not some other past Corruption he failed to exorcise.
Atticus felt through the Hex, searching for a sign of Bloodmire, and there was one. It was still weakened by its extravagant escape earlier, but it was regaining its strength quickly. [i]Too quickly.[/i]
Atticus waited patiently for a response. He knew, from past experiences, how to handle this type of situation. He thumbed the chamber of the Blue Rose, mentally preparing himself. It clicked twice, and he was ready.
[Edited by Propaganda on Friday, March 30, 2007 4:45 AM]
03/30/2007 9:23 AM
Ashlyn kept to her pace, keeping behind Atticus and trying to keep everyone in her sight. She may feel a connection with these people, as strange as she thought it, but she would quite happily side with whoever looks stronger.
She would wait, and watch, whoever won this fight...well, that would decide. It's not like she's particularly power hungry, she's simply not stupid. A girl like her has very few options to keep herself safe, power is needed, if becoming corrupt will earn her more power than ignoring her hex could, than she would take it, if the consquences were not too great.
It was doubtful that the boyos knew how much was riding on their fight, at least from her point of view. Their fight is her fight, rather like a devil and an angel fighting, whoever wins gets her soul.
04/02/2007 4:59 AM
"I do not wish to fight Bloodmire," Atticus said with authority. "You have proven yourself worthy, and I merely brandish my gun for the protection of myself, and of my fellow travellers."
Atticus spun the Blue Rose full circle on his finger. That particular habit had survived the perils of his youth. He shivered at the thought of [i]that place.
Now is not the time[/i], he thought to himself as he spun his gun a second time.
His patience was beginning to wear thin. The Corruption that called itself Bloodmire should have answered by now. Unless it is too weak and its apparent regeneration is a hoax. The silence made his skin crawl and itch hysterically.
Atticus shrugged the feeling off, and scratched the back of his head with his free hand. The still of the morning had made him nervous. Luckily, he was able to control any unnecessary fidgeting.
[i]I want the truth to be uncoiled and scraped away,[/i] he thought, [i]and the liars to be revealed for what they are. [/i]
Atticus's skin felt as though it was two sizes too small, but he took another step forward, towards the graveyard, regardless.
[Edited by Propaganda on Monday, April 2, 2007 5:03 AM]
04/02/2007 3:46 PM
Jericho Bloodmire smiled wide as he slid his being down the stone of the arch and stepped silently out of the wall like stepping out of water. His duster becoming a tight fitting robe and ceremonial armor of the blackest stone. His power was almost at its original level, far beyond that of most corruptions, but the key...the key would keep feeding him long after, the power of the souls of every Bloodmire since his childhood. He made sure to stay out of view of Atticus, knowing he would feel him and his newfound power, as he made his way to the girl and stood behind her, soundlessly. He spoke again simultaneously into the minds of both Atticus and the hexthing before him.
To Atticus he spoke as if chiding an old friend, [i]"Dear me ol Atticus, I cudda swore you weren't deaf. I'm here..I can smell you and my kin..speak yer piece or die..."[/i]
However, to the girl his tone was soothing, like the devil's own. [i]"You feel strong little one. But I can make you stronger. You see I have no children, no wife, and therefore no one to give all this power to. What a pair we'd be eh? True freedom...rests here..."[/i]
04/03/2007 10:57 AM
"We're looking for a man... a Pinkerton agent," said Atticus, doubting the Corruption's honesty. "I can feel him nearby, Bloodmire."
Atticus took another cautious step forward, putting himself within ten feet of the creature. He knew that vampires were tricksome beings. No self-respecting hunter would leave his trust in its wretched, cold-blooded hands. The silence was beginning to stretch like a birth squeeze, and how unpleasant it was for all involved.
[i]I'm just a tired old man, [/i]thought Atticus, [i]just let this encounter be a peaceful one.[/i]
[Edited by Propaganda on Tuesday, April 3, 2007 10:59 AM]
04/03/2007 8:46 PM
A shiver ran down her spine, she didn't, couldn't, surpress it. The thought of giving into the vampiric man terrified her ... and excited her to no end. She wanted to fling herself away from him and scream defiance, and run to his arms and beg for guidance. Poor young woman didn't have a clue as to what would be right, what she even wanted.
"Not yet...No..." She bit her bottom lip, eyes closed as she tried to escape the situation, to simply run away from it all.
04/06/2007 8:52 AM
Luna felt the mood in a broader sense, but not deeper as the raw emotions that flood each of their thoughts, Hex filled this place. She could see something but more not seeing it, a mist that she knew and felt her brain told her it was there but her eyes did not.
She didn't more she just waited for each to make their play, "should be fun, this much power," whispered under her breath.
04/07/2007 8:31 AM
There was a new tension to the silence now, a swelling pressure that was the influx of the Hex. Jericho had stalled long enough and now the full extent of his constantly replenishing power was at his fingertips. He could have easily killed them all now. Scattered their corpses among the corpses already at rest here. But that was too easy and Bloodmires hated easy. Besides, they intrigued him.
[i]"Say Atticus, ol boy. Any chance you got my Esmerelda with you? She's much too pretty to lose y'know? I'll make you a deal...I'll help you catch yer Pinkerton piggie if you help me get my gunsword back. Er I could just kill all of ya, cept you sweetheart"[/i]He said with a wink towards Ashlyn.
04/07/2007 10:44 AM
"Alright, you got yourself a deal," replied Atticus, holstering the Blue Rose. "I will help you get your gunsword back, and you'll help me get the Pinkerton agent. And no funny business, Mister Bloodmire."
He sighed in relief. The silence was broken, and a pact was wedged in its place. Atticus wiped his forehead, where beads of sweat had begun their gentle slide.
[i]Esmerelda[/i], it had said.
Atticus had heard that name mentioned in several late night drinking sessions. Could it be the same person, the prostitute? It was within the realm of possibility. He had seen her and she had been pretty, dazzlingly so. She was one of those rarities who could stop certain men blinking when she entered a room.
Atticus straightened up, and wiggled his toes. Whoever designed the male body was an idiot, as being mildly aroused by a faint memory about a hooker who may or may not have been called Esmerelda was ridiculous.
04/07/2007 2:09 PM
"Not that I'm complaining to being left out of being killed, but I'm not at all sure I find the thought of being spared by the likes of you all that comforting." Ashlyn's voice may have been a bit on the soft side for her words, may have even been a tad bit shakey, but at least she spoke, of that, she was extremely proud of.
"Don't call me sweetheart, darlin." She bared her teeth at him, confidence coming back with each breath she took, admittedly it wasn't a particularly strong confidence, but all the same.
04/08/2007 5:47 AM
The Corruption once called Bloodmire was offering false hope to Ashlyn. Atticus did not like the way its cunning mind worked. It would offer her a chance of immortality, and then take everything away from her. It will bring death and destruction to all it beholds.
Corruptions infect the very land they tread on; they are disease incarnate. A relentless hatred for the vile creatures had run through Atticus's lineage for decades. Vampires were the worst, as they suck the very essence of life from anything with a pulse.
Atticus would have shot the bastard dead where he was standing, were it not for the intensity of the Hex emanating from its cold-blooded heart. He could feel it growing stronger.
His life has been completely turned on its head. His father would turn in his grave, had he known Atticus had made a pact with a demon, unwittingly doing what the Hex commanded. But, wasn't everyone at the mercy of fate, or mayhap a greater, divine being? Fate, undoubtedly, had some part to play in this fable.
Atticus suddenly wanted to be far away. Even the ends of the earth seemed too close to this group of people, especially [i]that one[/i]. He could feel the Corruption; feel the black hole of wrongness. It was of supermassive proportions, and it was reeling him in, whispering promises of great fortunes in his ears. He shook his head, but it did not leave.
"Okay," he said, his voice quavering. "Let's find that Pinkerton fellow."
04/08/2007 2:05 PM
Corey felt anger and frustration. He had assumed that Atticus would fight the monster. Yes, the wrongness was huge, larger than he thought that he could fill and growing. Yes, even if all of them fought it and Luna became an instrument of flaming death they could lose. However, even with death as a likely outcome of fighting, he could not accept working with this monster. He may not be capable of killing it himself, but he would not help it do anything.
He stopped following the old Hexer. He turned, and began walking away. Every step away from the wrongness was harder than the one before. Every fiber of his being pulled him back at the corruption, his desire to destroy it building with every step.
"Not alone," he muttered, as he willed his way back towards the horses.
He turned to Luna, and saw a strange eagerness in her eyes. He was planning to force himself to ignore the corruption, to go into town, sell the horses, rent stables for the two they kept, buy a room, and sleep. Something in her face made that seem less likely, but he figured he would make the attempt.
"Miss Luna, you picked a horse yet?" he said, not completely sure it was Luna he was talking to.
04/10/2007 12:57 PM
Atticus could hear the soft footsteps of the trapper, heading away from here. He wanted to turn and ask why, convince him to stay. Though turning his back on the Corruption in the graveyard was not a particularly bright idea.
Upon meeting the fellow, Atticus took an instant liking to him. The two were both hunters, albeit with different prey, but hunters nonetheless. He could tell the young man hunted from his alert nature and the way he walked; back straight, smelling the air, listening intently. [i]A man after my own heart, [/i]he had thought.
Hearing the young man mutter something, Atticus took a lungful of air. He turned on his heel sharply, his boot cutting a small hole in the dirt. His eyes were closed as he strode towards the small herd of horses, hoping he wouldn't be ripped apart by Bloodmire. [i]So far so good[/i].
"Young sir, were do you think you are going?" asked Atticus, with a strong vibe of authority. "If you were planning on leaving, it would have been common courtesy to tell... someone... or anyone!"
Atticus looked into the trapper's blue eyes. He was hoping he would catch a reflection of Bloodmire in it, in case it decided it was a bit peckish.
[Edited by Propaganda on Tuesday, April 10, 2007 12:59 PM]
04/10/2007 4:09 PM
Corey turned at Atticus's voice. He considered whether or not to respond in a way that could start a fight with this corruption. He thought that Atticus would likely side with him, but he had just struck a deal with the corruption. Besides, this one felt a lot more dangerous than had the one in town, and he had been able to paralyze Corey with a look; this one had broken himself into a horde of insects. It now felt even more twisted and powerful than it had back in the town.
"Sorry, Mr. Atticus, but ain't in the business of hunting men." Especially not alongside monsters "I'm sure you and your new friend can handle this Pinkerton. I've got no quarrel with the man."
As he spoke to Atticus, his eyes were trained on the monster. He hated it. He wanted to erase the void it created. Hex began to build inside him, but then he released it. He also wanted to live.
"Na'óvahe (I am a coward)" he whispered to himself.
04/10/2007 7:37 PM
[i]"Na'óvahe, eh? Then why you runnin' boy...I can smell it on ya. Bet yer pa's a coward too. Why not kill me boy? Why not strike down this evil thing? Chicken-shit 'redskins'...They bleed so easy..."[/i] Jericho focused the hex into his voice, not moving his lips, speaking only in the mind of Corey. Begging him to attack. He willed the images of every darkskinned victim he ever had in to his mind and wove them into his words. Slowly, He reached into himself and summoned the void of energy into the balls of his feet and the tips of his fingers. He would be very ready...
04/11/2007 7:19 AM
Atticus winked to the young hunter, communicating a message known to hunters: [i]just trust me. [/i]
He could feel the sea that is the Hex rolling through his veins. The Corruption in the graveyard was trying to work its twisted magic. [i]This will not end well. [/i]
Atticus's worn hands fell to the butt of his gun, his faithful Rose. He made need her support in the immediate future. He turned once again, this time facing Bloodmire. His aura of authority diminished slightly at the sight of the sinister figure, but he tried to hide that loss.
He risked a glance to his right and his left. No sign of anyone besides the troupe that followed him here; no sign of the Pinkerton agent. Atticus could no longer feel him, but he had put that down to the stress of the situation. Now, worry seeped into his conscience. [i]Is this a lost cause? Should I just give up?
No[/i], he finished. The Corruption was distorting his very thoughts, such was its power.
"Its time to continue," announced Atticus.
[Edited by Propaganda on Wednesday, April 11, 2007 7:20 AM]
04/23/2007 10:43 AM
A rising heat began to fall in Luna's breast, she had a twinge from her left arm as it left she wasn't sure what was happening but she felt that she should wait for Corey to tell her. The was something that spooked her about graveyards, probably thinking about death but this one had something inside making it much worse. She waited.... she felt something nuzzle her cheek, she let out a scream.
04/23/2007 12:37 PM
Zach tromped through the Graveyard, he wasnt sure what he was looking for but he had a bad feeling eversince he rode into town the previous day, seeing as he doesnt like much company he decided he would sleep in the graveyard. Hearing a noise like a scream Zach immediatly drew his colt from his hip and turned in the direction of the noise, seeing no one in the immediate area he decided he would investigate nearby, and with that he sprang through the cemetary until he came upon a woman laying on the ground. Frantically he tried to wake her, he noticed that she was very beautifull and he looked around for what might have made her scream.
04/26/2007 12:10 PM
Luna fell, Hot, burning everywhere blinding, blackness. Burnning flesh as the grave yard was filled with a fire storm, which when cleared left a mile square of burnt land.
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