Well it's back to Underhill Wildcat goes, but not before picking up her personal effects which are littered in the street by now.

Charging Bear watches the tin-starred ranger leave, she obviously had other things on her mind. Moving to the room where the dandy actually did the shooting, he has a look around. Never know what hints were left behind ... I'm sure Rose would be proud.

OOC:
09:36, Today: Charging Bear rolled 4,3 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,3. Notice.

Meanwhile, in the abandoned mine where so many had died from the cave in, Gus Shaw and the ronin, Gangatsu, just became 'uneasy' allies.


Panting, her heart beat brisk. The blonde rough neck was beside her, thighs tense a little as she shifted her hips. Well, she wasn't warm, but she wasn't cold anymore, so the wily fucker was going to be her head support if she so desired it. At this point of time it was a fond notion that he was still human.. She could hear his heart yet... A slow, strange rattling, muffled under the flesh and bone. Like a little serpent that the machine had spoke of. The snake within him..

" Mm.." Gatsu moved her head away from his chest and green eyes looking to it, as if expecting it to pop out. A sigh, turning away from him, her arm proping her head up, her back against him to stay warm, or at least content. She watched the fire, dying down.. Her eyes growing heavy..


The flames dance and sway, hypnotic and graceful, and she never noticed the point when her eyes drooped and she fell fully asleep to the crackle of the flames and the patter of the rain.


The light blinded her yet it faded away into darkness. She could hear the fire crackling, and to that she was staring at the hearth he made. Tilting her head, she was dressed in one of her more feminine garbs that she had not seen in a long time and waiting in a cozy, neglected hotel room. The town they stopped in looked like it had been abandoned for months, all the food that wasn't canned was rotten and growing fungi, the beds smelt like dust, and everything made such a hollow sound.

There were traces of blood in some places, but they had secured a small area, their wagon left outside under thhe light of the full moon. Oreida got up and moved, finding herself alone, now opening the door to look for her husband..

The hotel door creeked. A darkened hall streached endlessly outward. Row upon row of silent doors stood at attention. Only a glimpse of a greenish flame, bursting sporadically in the distance down the hall, caught here eye. From somewhere unseen, a church bell tolled.


She caught the flicker of green, it made the end of the hall glow of that hue ever briefly. Her bare feet took a step forth, the french styled dress followed behind, touching the floor as she went along like a bridal train. The bell toll and it made her brow furrow and her heart beat. Someone was here. Steps hurried now, going down the the end of the hall...


As she moved, the hall seemed less like wood and plaster, becoming more elongated and further away. The doors began to change to slabs of stone, before fading away into the walls of the tunnel she moved through. The bells still rang. The green flame still flckered. The air was, by turns, hot and cold.


Green eyes shifting from one side tohte other as she started to run. The bell  was distant, but she almost swore it was getting closer. The air turned hot and cold, brushing against her skin, it almost felt like this tunnel was breathing.. What the hell?


Now, the tunnel curved. It wound and twisted and coiled. The bells continued to chime. The breeze kicked up, hot one way, then cold the other. In, out. in, out. Inhale, exhale. The stone grew soft, and her feet sank slightly into the floor. A wetness gleamed along the walls in the flicker of the green flame.


 THe curves slowed her a little, her weight shifting with the turns, but she had to cringe. Her eyes becoming slits of dark lashes as the hot air blew against her, goosebumps rising as the cold inward draft pushed her forward and chilled the skin windowed by this backless dress.  The wet and soften of the floor almost felt like mud yet it didn't stick to her, the walls like a dank cave yet the green light still eludes her.. She pressed on, holding up the front of her dress so she could move swiftly.

Eventually she reached a larger space. It felt round and domed, but the cealing was too high to make out in the tint of the green flame. She could see it's source now. It was a torch, burning near a stone altar etched with carving of serpents. Atop the altar, tied to it with barbed wire, was Khan, his chest ripped open.


Her eyes looked around the curved room and focused a bit where the light was. The ominous orochi-oni, gatsu came to the devious lair.. Her lips arted with the start of a horrible, angry, sorrowful scream. Her husband, her love, the only person she had met with a kind heart.. that heart was gone and his body defiled.. Tears burned her eyes with the salty water, her feet felt like lead as she staggered a step forth and fell to her knee hard, her hands to the floor  as she sobbed. An ugly, rusty sound as if she had never known how to cry the meaning of sorrow before this moment..


"Sorry, darlin'..." The figure on the stone slab croaks in a sepuchural voice. "I never meant for you to see me like this..."

A wheesy, a high pitched panting gasp as if trying to get her mind together.. He spoke.. He spoke.. " K -Kahn.. Kahn! " She scarmbled, her body tense with shock, her legs feeling ridged as she staggered toward the alter. " Who did this? O kami, your.. Your.. Your gunna be okay, yes. Your okay."


"Ha. That's funny, darlin'. Gunna be okay...not in a million years. Sorry, darlin', but that's the way it is." he turns his head to look at her. His eyes squirm with maggots. "No... Some things, the cain't be put back together no more."


That simple laugh, she hated that laugh and she missed it. he would always use it in any disagreement they had causee it never bothered him as much as it bothered her.  He looked to her and there were no eyes, she bent slightly with her hand cupping her mouth, almost lurching as she looked away.. " Okami.. No. I.. I can make them all pay.. I don't care, not without you..  If I have to die then at least I'll find you again. I won't let you go like this.." She move up, shivering, looking at the wires that bound him. There had to be something. " Can't you.. tell me.. Send me in the direction.. I'll go."


"Darlin', what or who exactly do you think it is that needs to pay so much? You done already chopped up them deaders what done me in. What do you plan to do? Travel down to Perdition and bitch-slap the Devil?" He chuckles. "Not that I don't think you *could*, mind. You always did have that stubborn streak about you, but it weren't no one man that done this to me. It was a change in the world."

" Don't joke." She murmurs lowly in speaking bitch slapping the devil, honestly it deserved it. The tears rolling over her cheeks as she listened.  " A change,  A change doesn't raise the dead.  This should have never happened. .. Kahn.. I want this to all to stop.. It won't by itself."

"And it won't stop if'n you git yerself kilt by tryin' to take on the whole world alone, either. It's a big damn job. You ain't gunna make it on your lonesome, 'sepcially not the way you been burnin' the candles at both ends and rushin' through like a bull in a china shop. You gotta stop tryin' to pry the answers you want out'a them that ain't willin' to share 'em, and try to be more subtle-like. Ya'll will catcfh more flies with honey than vinigar."


" .." The woman's lips parted to say something, but it died on her lips. He was right, even though the stubborn nature told her to argue with him. She couldn't bare to do that. " You were a lot better at that."

"Yeah. Reckon I was."

" Why are you in this room.. Where are we? She surveyed the room, her stomache and.. Everything still felt so uneasy and a bit queasy. She sniffled, wiping her eyes and runny nose.


"I'm here so I can talk with you. You're in a dream, Darlin'. One pulled from you, an' from me, an' from the big ol' snake thing sleeping at the bottom of this place."


" A dream.." For a moment sounding confused and relief, she thought she had died and went to her own hell. " ... When I see you.. It's not cause.. I'm going insane?.." She breathed her brow furrowing. " And the snake.. IS it the same as Alouette has spoke of? The one in Gus?"

"Not all the time, no." He says. "Can't rightly say it's always me, though...ya'll need some cake and grief counciling, darlin'. As for the snake...the one in that guy is just a baby compared to this thing. It's old. Really old. It's been sleeping down here for half of forever, but the change that happened to the world woke it some. It used to sleep deep, now it dreams."

Grief counciling.. Cake sounds good, but he was there some times. Perhaps she just remmebered how he always said this and that.. Yet the memory of finding him in peieces. But he didn't look like htat now.. His body was together and prim except for the barbwire, the hole in his chest, and his dark brown eyes she use to love.. Her heart was pounding a little, but whom was  she suppose to talk to about her troubles? Tex was the only one she could figure, but even the smell of him would make her vomit in that unguarded state. She listened and something in the world made the snake dream.. If it dreams, she wondered how horrible things would be if it awakened. " What changed? "


"Don't know for sure. Ask the metal hawk. It might know more. But you gotta talk to the think within the box, not the box itself." He says. "From what I gather, there was some kind of lock on the spirit world, and someone broke it. Wish I could tell you more, Darlin', I really do."


She looked to him, her eyes shifting over his open chest and his ruined face. His body was rotting away here. " Metal Hawk in the box. Spirit lock broken. " Making sure she remembered it, she repeated it a little. " No, my love. Thank you for this.. I'll find it..." Her hand reached out an touched his cheek. Warmth met cold with a fond touch. The woman moved closer and kissed his cold clay lips briefly.

".. I miss you..."

" I miss you too."

And this dream, during their talk, turns to black, creeping up and evelopes the room and those within it..

Charging Bear:

The room where the shootist had a clear view of the window was a bedroom, fairly neatly kept. There isn't much here aside from a bed, desk, and chair. The dandy had a clear view of the street from the window, and the Undertaker's place is well within the range of a revolver, but aside from a couple wet shoe prints there isn't anything more to be learned from the room that Charging Bear didn't already know.

Of course, the wet prints on the floor suggest that the man made his way up here after the rain started, not before, so he couldn't have been waiting here in ambush all that long. He and the fellow in the outlandish hat and scarf were probably working together, but they must have been moving fast to take advantage of an opportunity.

And it begged the question...how did the Ranger know that the Dust Adders were here in the first place? She did arrive at this spot conveniently quickly after the DA's got to arguing.

---

Carl:

Dave winces in pain at the tinnitus caused by the gunshot in such an enclosed space, but stands his ground.

"You wanna do this?" he says, balling his fists, "Then fine. Let's take a mosey on back in the street. But if you ain't noticed, Jesse's dead, and it's that law girl that done it. The same one who tried to get him hung in Nacogdoches. The same one who took down Charlie. The same one who has just now called us all liars and had the guts to try and tell us to leave our town!"

Dave walks right up to Carl, plants himself in front of the gun.

"You wanna shoot me like you done Nate? You gonna lay down and roll over to any corrupt bully with a badge what gonna tell you how to live your life? That ain't us. This is our town. We call the shots here. That Ranger bitch needs to be shown what it is we Texans do to them that try to run our lives and abuse their powers, like them judges back in '69 found out. So all I gotta know is are you in, or are you yeller?"

In the middle of the tension, a small figure slides out into the rain...

---

Wildcat:

Wildcat slowly gathers up her things. The last thing she gathers is her hat.

It has a nice hole clean through it. Ah, well. gives it character.

But just as she sets it on her head, she hears the cock of a pistol behind her.

"You!" A tiny, piping voice says. "You killed my pa!"

She breathed in, her eyes opening in the dimming light of the the old mine. She stayed theere, hearing Gus lightly snoring as she thought on that dream. It was so vivid and disturbing. A bit of her still felt so queasy. Her lowerhalf still felt tingly and abused, it was an aching feeling from long ago.

In sitting up, upon her hip, arms proping herself up, the fire was smoking cinders and glimpse of red embers under the char wood. Green eye were wet with tears and sleep stones had gathered around from the dried salt. Wipping her eyes she moved away from the man, crawling over to her pack and pulled a kerchief to wipe her face down.  A light sniffle, swallowing a bit hard, she wondered why now did she finally get to speak to him.. Was she close to an area of improtance? Was it the proximity of the baby snake in Gus' chest? or was it just Kahn wanting to talk, to steer her a bit more..

Checking on her clothes, they were cool, but dry. The rain patter had kicked up something feirce outside. Pulling on her short yakuta and obi, Gangatsu looked over Gus' clothes, they seemed to be a little damp in some places sinceh e hadn't rung them out first. She flatten them a bit and folded his pants length wise and piled his clothes neatly there by the fire.

It wasn't long before she went back next to the slumbering oaf and nudged him with her foot.

" 'Ey. Get up."

Wildcat turns around and looks down at her accuser.

Wildcat turns to find herself staring down the barrel of a Colt Frontier, held in both hands by a blonde boy of about 12-13 years old. On his head is a brown hat that's just a little too big for him. The gun shakes a little in his hands, and tears streak down his face.

"You killed him!" he says again.

Something in Wildcat flares up, but just for an instant, before a kind of serenity comes to her.  Wildcat kneels so that they're closer to level.

"Then you should know my name.  It's Katrina Hawkins.  What's yours?"

"D-did you know my pa's name, before you shot him in the back?" The boy says, his voice cracking as tears leak down the corner of his eyes. "Why? Why did you kill him? Why did you shoot my pa?"

The thought occurs to Wildcat that this boy isn't much younger than she was when that bastard Hardin killed her own father...

Carl calmly cocks the pistol, a warning, and holds up his hand for the others' attention. Then he turns to them and makes a series of swift, natural gestures it'd take far longer to describe than to make - pointing at the body, Nate's, to the floor, to some of the Dust Adders, holding eye contact as he lets Dave out from immediate threat of shooting. Showing his confidence that the gang'll take him if he's misjudged Dave and is about to be shot in the back.

"..."

An outsider wouldn't tell how angry he is, but there's that same stillness at the core of him, movements unnaturally precise because he's not shaking...and a killing coldness in his gaze as intense as any of Nathanial's rages.

[[OOC: Translation:

"I ain't yeller. Y'all so afraid of a half-dead ranger you gotta chase her, gotta set Jesse on her, give him an audience? Y'all hadn't set him one-on-one with something to prove he'd have shot her in passing, come to help me. He wouldn't be dead."

[pause, catching eyes]

"Where did y'all think I was, taking a shit? When have I - or Mike, he's over the street - ever left Jesse's side when I thought he was in trouble? I didn't think y'all were so scared of the law you'd go clump 'round her - she ain't nothin'. You think she shot Charlie? She faced down a Jesse-rage with at least three bullets in her; that's not someone who shoots in the back in the dark. She got balls, Evans ain't. I know that's ironic.

The guy who shot her - the bastard I was up the road chasing - used us as a shield.Us. Me, Mike, Frank, Dave - Dust Adders. If it weren't for her high-an'-mighty moral attitude she'd have fired back through us. She didn't shoot Charlie. The hell she did. Thanks to all your fascination with the damn ranger the assassin got away [holding up a hand] so what? I'll tell you so what: next time that's a bounty hunter, after you, you, you [pointing]. Bang, dead. If they know they can just walk in, kill anyone on our patch and we won't lift a finger to stop them, we're nothing. An idiot can see that. The townsfolk will see that.

This is our town. [hits table after pointing down] We are Blackthorn, we're its heart, its fist/hand, its wallet. We are the reason this dust-covered fleck on the map survives. We are the law. They need reminding of that. We gotta show them we're still strong, ain't gonna fragment [look back at Dave] as soon as fuckin' Louisiana drops the reins. We can be so much more than that.

[pause, gazing round the room]

With Nate, they were afraid - just afraid - to shoot us in the front. I can make it so they don't dare shoot us in the back. Like Charlie. Like maybe someone else in this room was planning for me, Mike, Frank, if the man I was chasing up there didn't do it.

[letting that sink in]

I want to make it so we can roam or drive anywhere we want and there won't be no squad of assassins coming in ruling our roost. Fucking our girlfriends, riding our range. I want it so we can leave at will and no-one'll come hurt [pointing] your mum, your wife, your kid sister, this kid, who's ours now - where's Tim gone? -for information or any damn reason at all. Nate showed them what we can do angry, I'm going to show them they prefer us happy. That they want to treat us right. Nate done wrong when he attacked the town, because there is no us and them. They gotta know it, or they side with the marshall. We are Blackthorn. Evans has no power we don't give him by making folks think we're out-of-towner bandits to be fought - I can make it so they run him out of town themselves, or we can sit back and watch him run around clucking, then shoot him in broad daylight, no masks. Y'all afraid? Or are you Dust Adders? Blackthorn.

[hand slapped flat on the table]

Blackthorn.]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:19, Sat 30 Oct 2010.

In reply to Tim Landers (msg #143):

OOC:  I'm assuming OOC Charlie was the one Katy Devon shot that night they rode on the town?  IC I don't think Wildcat has a clue, other than by process of elimination and that they accused her of killing someone named Charlie.  I think the only Dust Adder to say his name or have others say his name around Wildcat was/is Jesse, and she'd possibly know his name from before anyway.  I don't think I got Luke's name either.

Her insides were like a tempest in a teapot.  She'd had years, years, to come to terms with it, but he sure hadn't.  She knew what she wanted to do, wanted to say, and knew it wouldn't do any good.  The reactions of people who've been there and done that are often surprising to those who haven't.

Wildcat's mind racked itself, trying to figure out what she meant.  Contrary to a lot of nonsense you heard, you had to shoot a man in the back pretty often.  It was often the only way to stop a bad man from getting away to hurt others.

She'd fired one shot in the initial assault, which had taken an Adder's hat off and he'd not been the worse for  wear.  She'd thrown the Adder in the abandoned house out into the street where he burned, so it couldn't have been him.  That might be the 'Charlie' mentioned, but this kid said his pa was shot.  The only Adder she'd actually shot was the one the others had called Jesse, and she shot him right to his face.  Then a horrible realization came to her.

She'd seen exactly one Adder shot in the back.  Ah hell.

Wildcat really had no problem with the Adders thinking that she was killing them off.  It didn't matter what she did or didn't do in fact, they were going to justify some way to hate her, it was their nature.  More importantly, it kept the heat off of Evans and his deputies, who could look like the lesser of two evils goods by comparison.

But before her didn't stand a Dust Adder.  Before her stood a younger Katrina Hawkins.  Before her stood a young person whose life was forever changed.  The death of her father had driven Wildcat to do everything she'd done up to this point.  For that she had no regrets, but she'd been lucky in a way.  Her father had been a brave and honorable man.  She couldn't be so sure about this kid's father.  Maybe he was complete scum, maybe he was misguided, either way it didn't matter, the effects could be the same.

And through all that troubled adolescence, what had kept Katrina sane?  Closure.  Sure she hated the SOB Hardin with every fiber of her being, who wouldn't?, but she knew, definitively, it was him.  Her rage was not misdirected.  What a horrible thing it would be to have staked her actions on this and have it be a damn lie.

He has to know the truth, or at least, the part of it he wants to know.  She didn't have to finger the real shooter, but she had to look him in the eyes and tell him the truth.  This kid was in for a hell of a ride, mentally and emotionally.  She wanted to help him, but he'd have to trust her, believe her.  The best thing she had for that was the truth, the simple truth.

"I can't make you believe me, but yer the one pointin' a gun at me.  I wouldn't lie to you about whether or not I done shot yer pa."  Wildcat tells him.  "But I've only actually kilt one man using my gun since I been here, and it was jus' a little while ago, today actually, and it was right to his face."

Wildcat moves her duster and points to the tear in her blouse. "He even winged me, right here.  I didn't even want to kill him, I wanted to take him to jail.  So I either shot him in the front, or I didn't shoot him at all.  If I shot him in the front then his name was Jesse, otherwise, I couldn't have shot him personally because you say he was shot in the back.  Which is it?"

In reply to Gangatsu (msg #139):

The roughneck snorts as he comes to. "...wha? Oh."

He sits up and rubs his eyes. "Damn. I'd kill for some coffee." he grumbles, then takes a look outside.

Outside the mine entrance, it's darker, but it's still raining.

"Well, damn." he mutters. "Guess we can't go back out there yet. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if it rains all night. April showers and all that. It gets pretty wet this time o' year."

He looks back at Gangatsu, eying her bare legs. "O' course, I can think of a few ways to pass the time, if'n yer up fer it..."

In reply to Carl (msg #144):

There's some nods of assent and a few muttered murmurs of "Damn right" from the assembled.  Underhill, though, just stands around, looking confused.

"Take a hike, Underhill." Dave growls at the reedy man. "We got some important hings to discuss that you ain't a part of."

"But this is my shop!" He protests.

"Git!" Dave growls.

Underhill sighs. "Very well. I'll be in the back if anyone needs me." he slinks off into the back room

Dave turns back to Carl. "So. Lot's of pretty gestures there. None of it resembles no damn plan, though, so if'n you got an actual plan in mind, we're listenin'."

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #145):

[[OOC: Your process of elimination is correct. And no, I don't think you got Luke's name, either, which will be fun explaining to the Dust Adders when they ask...]]

The child's hands shake while Wildcat talks. "b-but...they all said..."

"Give me the gun, son." comes a familiar voice from nearby. Evans, now wearing an overcoat to ward off the driving rain, steps off the boardwalk.

"You are pointing that gun at the wrong person." he says. "So if you're going to actually shoot someone, shoot me. I'm the one responsible for your father's death."

The boy whirls around, aiming for the Marshal. "WHY!?"

"Because I had no choice. Because your father was threatening people, and had to be stopped before he harmed an innocent girl. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry. But before you pull that trigger, know that killing me won't help ease your pain. It won't make you feel any better about losing your dad. It won't bring him back. It will just make you a murderer."

Evans stands up tall, looming over the pair in the street. "I didn't have a choice, child. But you do. You can pull that trigger..." he holds out a hand. "Or you can be the better man and hand over the gun."

The boy wavers...then drops the pistol and sinks to the ground, sobbing. "Pa..." He cries.

He was calmer, that was for sure.

 She honestly never thought this place in blackthorn ever seen much rain at all to be something almost seasona. THough that does take her back a bit. Was it truly April?

" It's spring already..?" She murmured, shifting her hips to the side and  when Guss looks back, that short dress like robe stopping on her thighs gave little glances like those cheeky can-can outfits. Only it was a bit more fitting and less guady.  At his comment, green eyes drew back to him with a mild lift of her brow and a slight twitch of a smirk.

" I'm up fer a walk. Get yer pants on an' come wit meh." She grabbed her sheathed sword from it's place leaning against a the cavern wall and leans there herself to wait for him. " Please." She added on after a considerable moment.

In reply to The Stray (msg #148):

Wildcat can't take it any more and uses her one good arm to hug the boy, even though he probably doesn't want her to.  At this point she's crying too.

"I was fourteen years old when a man named Hardin shot my pa."  she says softly, not really trying to whisper or hide it, but speaking softly.  "And if you want to get some revenge, real revenge, I can tell you how."

Carl gives a thin smile. "..." Then he puts the gun safely away, leans down and swiftly, efficiently, deprives Jesse's corpse of the $2 given him minutes before and the $40 earnt in the gulley. It's a stone cold gesture, but those who rode to the gulley with him, those who heard his calling-out of Frost and know of his commitment to the gang, won't doubt the money's going straight back to them. Keep moving.

Carl counts out the undertaker's fee and leaves that on the table, then steps out...to find the goddamn Ranger snuggled up to their boy. It almost draws a literal growl from the Dust Adder. Femminine instincts must've got the better of her. Christ, she's even sniffling. Carl steps up.

He sees Evans, considers shooting him, but recalls in time that Ward wants him placated and so holds up a hand to stop/remind the boys and tugs his hatbrim to him, jerking his head back inside to indicate there's something the marshal wants to see in there.

Then he kneels and reaches into his duster. Wildcat will find an almost-empty flask and a full $10 between her and Timothy, which will be gently tapped against her face like one might nudge a dog until she backs off if she doesn't shift of her own accord. For the second time that day - that year, in fact - Carl's voice is heard, low but carrying:

"Go get well, Ranger. I won't kill you wounded."

It's not a threat, or bravado, just spoken like something that's going to happen at some point, grey eyes holding hers. She may realise at this point that the money and whatever horrible substitute for liquor is in the flask are being offered to her.

Wildcat manages the sheer muster to ignore the damnable Adder for the moment.  This is more important.

"You will survive, even though it doesn't seem like it right now.  I meant what I said.  You want that kind of help, you come find me, now or years from now.  But right now your ma needs you.  Go to her."

It's amazing how fast Wildcat can shift from one radical emotional state to another.  The scowling, hard faced Ranger comes back once the boy leaves her.

"If that's really what ya want, I reckon it's best you take them home after yer done with arrangements here.  Yer boys seem to believe the gambler's fallacy that the next bullet they put in me is going to do something the last few didn't.  And sorry, but I can't accept that."  Wildcat matches his factual tone, but her last statement has a double meaning.  "Arrests will be made, but not today.  I ain't the only one that's got to go do some stitchin' before something else goes down."

Wildcat looks at the kid.

Carl shakes his head slightly and nods back at Dave, almost a schoolboy indication of my-friend-fancies-you.
"..."
He'll pay enough attention to Tim to reassure/shelter him if looked to, but won't stop the boy going where he wants.

He shrugs a bit at Wildcat's growling, puts the offered aid away, stands and steps past her into the street. Then seizes her good arm and her bad shoulder from behind, keeping her down.

Whether Evans is witness or no, he catches Dave's eye, jerks his head back a little and makes a brief moue. Wildcat can feel a grip that's not intended to hurt her, though it's not overly gentle - is indifferent to her, really. It seems he isn't planning to hold on long, just long enough for something to happen.


[[OOC: My sincere apologies, Wildcat, Carl is a (protective) bastard and you just got caught up in intra-pack dominance wrangling.
9 grapple]]
This message was last edited by the player at 17:38, Sun 31 Oct 2010.

Likewise, Wildcat isn't about to let Carl actually touch her even if she'll respect what passes for civility, and if he wants to keep this a brawl she won't escalate it.  At the same time getting pinned by Carl is just asking to be slashed in the throat or worse.  A right hook, a thumb in the eye, a counter wrist lock, and a good old fashioned nose breaking head butt are all still viable deterrent options even with a bum arm.

I believe that should be either an opposed Agility roll or a Notice roll or something since Carl is right there, not to mention I think we're both a might curious to see what Evans does and whether I can count him for Ganging Up purposes.  I'll wait for The Stray to rule on all that.

Why must I be so popular today...

[[OOC: Opposed Agility or Fighting rolls (whichever you prefer to use) works for me. However, see below.]]

While Tim runs away to find his mom, Evans frowns at the scene.

"So this is the disturbance I heard about." Evans says, pulling a black revolver from under his overcoat. It's not cocked, but then, it's Nathaniel Frost's double-action peacemaker, so it doesn't need to be. He holds it ready, but not aimed.

"I will ask you once. Unhand her and move along."

He paused, then adds with a half-smile, "Oh, and if you happen to see Nathaniel Frost, tell him I've got something of his, and I'm waiting for him to come and claim it, if he dares."

There's a rumble from the other Dust Adders, but no one makes a move, as they are waiting to see what Carl does.

In reply to Gangatsu (msg #149):

"Yup. Gonna be Easter this Sunday, in fact." Gus grunts at he pulls his pants back on. "egh. Still wet. Ah, well."

He arches an eyebrow at her. "Where do you expect to be goin', anyhow? The rain's still comin' down by the bucket out there."