Realistic or Modern Wild Wild Wyoming—Season 1

[idalie]

Evelyn J. Bonney
​

Hiccuping and sniffing as Tacitus spoke, this time with less threat to him and something -- god forbid -- bordering on pity for himself or perhaps her. Evie climbed up in front breath bordering on hyperventilating as she spoke choppily, "I -- ain't -- kill-killed -- no man -- before," Her shoulders shook, "I -- jus-jus' -- hurt 'em -- real-real bad -- so they -- would-wouldn't -- be -- assholes," It took a long enough time to get out, before the lump in her throat grew too much and in came fresh tears. "Why'd -- why'd -- why'd you do -- do that to -- to him?" She referenced to the poor boys face, tiredly slumping back into the outlaw with no strength to keep her head up.

Wasn't as if he'd care. Or rather, she hoped he was more concerned with getting back to camp rather than her making his shirt wet. The tears continued for a while yet until it calmed on her own and she'd exhausted herself. Again, it wasn't as if Evelyn was in the right state of mind, considering getting kidnapped in the same night as jumping in a river, seeing a faceless corpse, and having some bastards disturb the peace at her bar. Not forgetting Atto and what happened to him.

Her eyes were partially closed from fatigue, now speaking in a washed-out croak. "... Only dead body I ever did touch ... was my momma. She was real peaceful. Had her in the p...the prettiest box you ever seen."

Mentioned: Nebaros
Interactions: rebirth

 

[Nebaros]

Connor had dismounted and was taking it slow, he’d lost and found the trail more times than he could count and was just about to double back to find it again when he spotted something on the ground up ahead. He scanned the trees before approaching, recognising it as one of Miss Bonney’s hair ribbons. He knelt and picked it up, tucking it into a pocket before continuing on with new energy, back on the trail.

He’d continued on for several minutes before he heard a piercing scream somewhere in the distance, over near the river. He leapt back up into the horse’s saddle and bolted in that direction, not caring about being slow and quiet any more. He tried not to think about what the bastards were doing to cause Evelyn to scream like that.

A few minutes later he hit the river and looked in both directions, not able to see a camp or anything and not knowing which direction to go. He listened carefully but couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the river at first, then he caught a noise from further downstream, back towards Walburn, a voice calling out to someone.

He got down from his horse and cocked his rifle, moving with purpose through the trees beside the bank, listening for more voices, catching the sounds of Miss Bonney’s cries. At least she was still alive, but who knew what they were doing to her. He had no plan for what he would do once he ran into them.

Up ahead through the trees he caught sight of Tacitus and Miss Bonney climbing back up onto the horse, initially he was confused that it was just the two of them, and why Miss Bonney was soaking wet, but the fact that they weren’t back to camp yet was the best thing he could have hoped for. Leaning against a tree, he lifted his rifle and took aim, watching them as they moved along the path, but Miss Bonney was blocking his shot of the criminal.

He lowered his rifle, he couldn’t risk shooting her, so he took out his knife and moved forwards, approaching from the side. He hoped desperately that Eve’s speaking would disguise his approach, but once he was out in the open he had to risk it and sprinted at the horse, leaping up to try to drag Tacitus to the ground by his belt. The only thought in his head was that he had to deal with this while Tacitus was still alone.

 

[rebirth]

Over the sound of Tacitus's horse trotting on the dirt and Evelyn's mumbling, Connor's footsteps were almost inaudible until it was too late. Only at the last minute did Tacitus hear the man, but by then, he was falling to the ground, his belt ripped from his pants entirely. The belt, which held Atto's revolver and Tacitus's backup knives was now in the hands of the man who Tacitus did not need to be there right now. As he hit the ground with a whump, Tacitus's horse booked it in the direction of his camp. Tacitus was now completely unarmed, facing against both Evelyn, who was in no state to fight, and Connor, who had two guns.

"Shit," he almost yelled. "I don't even—only you people—" Tacitus took in a deep breath and glared at both of them. "I can get out of this. If ya kill me, it's murder. The Flames'll find out, and you and everyone you've ever known will die, partner."

 

[idalie]

Evelyn J. Bonney
​

With no other idea of what was occurring, Evie found the horse rearing, Tacitus gone, and herself hitting the ground. It took her some time to sit up on her elbows. Head throbbing, dizzy from exhaustion and now further movement which made her body feel as if it was cramping into a ball of lead. Ragged in each breath she couldn't fully stand or risk passing out, or otherwise, emptying her stomach in a nearby bush. "Connor?" She murmured, in no state to start debating whether or not she knew the lodger well enough to straight out call him his Christian name. Almost too fatigued to even shiver she licked her lips, tasting the brackish water which lingered and breathed, "They got the sheriff's boy," In a croak.

By Hell's Bells, she didn't think it possible to get so chilled. One thing was for sure, McCarthy was there and that meant things would be alright. Wouldn't it? He knew what to do. Evelyn rested her head on the leaf-litter, slurring to herself something else quiet enough it couldn't be heard. She didn't want to get up, she wanted to run into a bonfire, have a warm bath, wrap herself in homemade quilts.

Mentioned: N/A
Interactions: Nebaros rebirth

 

[Nebaros]

Connor gripped the belt in his hands and held it out to Miss Bonney, if she was able to take it, never taking his eyes off Tacitus.

"If I kill you, it's justice," he grunted, stepping back further from the man now that he was disarmed, "It seems to me that The Flames don't need any reason at all to start killing people, so I think the world would be a lot better off without y'all." With that he raised his revolver to aim it at Tacitus' head.

"There's only one way you're walking out of here without a big ol' hole in ya head, and that's surrendering and coming back to town, otherwise I have no reason at all not to put you in the dirt."

 

[rebirth]

Tacitus, to his own surprise, started cackling so hard that he fell to his knees. "You—you think you've got me tied town to a tree an' all that, dontcha?" Tacitus calmed himself, looking like a madman. He was covered in dirt and blood, and he was exhausted. "I've got news for you, buckaroo, you've got another thing comin' if ya think it'll be that easy to lock ol' Lockheart up. Come an' get me, I surrender." Tacitus held out his hands, surrendering himself. He would more than likely be out by the morning, and he might be able to "see" the first train come through at 10.

Of course, there was always the slim chance that the sheriff would completely ignore the fact that his son was being held hostage in Tacitus's camp. That was probably Tacitus's thought pattern though. He had a habit of looking at people through his own shoes, and not considering their feelings. His mind kept drifting to poor Martin, though. Did he have to kill him? Surely there was a better way to have dealt with him, like a disciplinary action. Everyone knew he had been through so much, and Tacitus stomped his face in with his boot.

 

[Nebaros]

Connor watched as Tacitus laughed his way to his knees, he put his revolver away and pulled out his rope, grabbing Tacitus and tying his hands behind his back, "Keep it up and we can lynch you right here," he growled, having had enough of the gangster's cockiness. Once he had him bound he went to check on Miss Bonney, "are you okay to ride by yourself? I'll take him on his horse and you can take mine," he said, whistling for his horse which had remained in the treeline during the scuffle.

First things first he pulled a thick fur blanket from his saddle and wrapped it around Miss Bonney's shoulders to hold back the cold, "You'll be back in front of the fire in no time," he said reassuringly.

 

[idalie]

Evelyn J. Bonney
​

She lethargically tilted her head to see Connor better, not much of a response coming from her until the fur was wrapped around her shoulders. "I can ride -- jus' fine --" Came her response, drunk with confusion. It wasn't hard, all she had to do was hold some reins. Everything was good now. Safe. In between fighting from dozing off, Evie tried to get off her knees and up. Legs caked in mud and now leaves which had stuck, hiding dark purplish bruises which were beginning to make their debut on her calves like some fancy art. Funnily enough, the river had done the most damage. Looking more like the monster from the black lagoon than a respected lady, she took grip of McCarthy by the forearm. "Help me up -- would ya? --" Evie motioned to the horse.

Smiling this time, Bonney was notably not herself for the time being. "...regular ol' -- knight in -- in --" The sentence drifted off, getting the sentiment over. "Ain't like you -- ain't like you had to." She gave his arm a squeeze. "I got one ... them mouths ..." Her eyes almost rolled upwards but caught herself before falling prey to premature slumber. Either way, home would be soon, the fur tight around her collar and cuddled to her neck, held with one hand as if a shawl. She couldn't wait for some coffee, bed, and a warm fire. Sneak some brandy in from downstairs like she'd often do come winter.

Mentioned: N/A
Interactions: Nebaros rebirth

 

[rebirth]

Tuesday, January 18, 1846
11:13 P.M.
Tacitus Lockheart
​

The air was chilly as it brushed across Tacitus's face while he rode into town. How did he let this happen? Captured by some hunter, not even from around these parts. He felt awful.

They by passed the wooden sign that welcomed them into town, a sign that Tacitus didn't want to see again for at least another ten years. He saw the sheriff office in the distance, and not a soul in sight except for Evelyn Bonney who accompanied them on Tacitus's horse. How dare she.

*************

Tuesday, January 18, 1846
11:02 P.M.
Doctor Alfenheimer
​

Doctor Alfenheimer poked and prodded at Atto's limp body that lay on a medical gurney in the middle of the doctor's office. The doctor placed a large, complex metal frame around his leg to keep it in place.

Atto had a piece of cloth wrapped around his shoulder and hand, both of them displaying blood that had oozed into it. Doctor Alfenheimer tightened up the frame and stepped back.

"Welp, nothin' I c'n do fer ya now," Alfenheimer said to nobody.

 

[Nebaros]

Connor kept his eyes on the road as they made their way back to town, nervously checking over his shoulder to check that they weren’t followed. He wanted to rush, but he didn’t want Miss Bonney falling from her saddle. He just kept a hold on Tacitus and slowly they got back to Walburn.

The mountain man pulled his horse up outside the sheriff’s office and climbed down, “Miss Bonney, I advise you get inside your saloon as quickly as you can, but you can come talk to the sheriff with me if you want.”

With that he pulled Tacitus down from the horse, not caring how roughly he fell. “Come on, you,” he said nastily to the tied up gang member, dragging him to his feet and kicking open the sheriff’s office. He idly wondered whether there might be a bounty on Tacitus' head...

 

[rebirth]

Wednesday, January 19, 1846
9:36 A.M.
The General Public
​

People had already started to gather around the train station and watched as the mayor and several other civilians had started to decorate the entryway with handmade decorations. The population had agreed to bring chairs to set up as they waited, so nobody had to sit on the dirty ground, and most of them had brought chairs like they promised. Upon seeing this early in the morning, Mayor Avery let out a passionate smile, proud of his town-goers.

Not many people had amassed across the street from the sheriff and Doctor Alfenheimer's office, but it was enough to make a small crowd. Miss Mildred Ackintire, a friendly old lady who sat on her porch most of the day and was famous for her pies, Mister Perry Howell, a baker at a nearby bakery, and a few farmers for instance, sat there, patiently waiting for the train to arrive. They were not bored -- not yet. They were on the edge of their seats, for maybe the train would come early, and they would see it firsthand.

Many of them had never actually seen a train before, except for Mildred, who had been an explorer in her younger days. Most of the people who lived in the small town of Walburn had either come over with the caravan that settled there 6 years ago, or they had wandered in and decided to live there. Then again, there were only about 100 people who populated it.

The train would arrive soon. A man brought in last night for kidnapping and assault watched from the bars underneath the sheriff's office. Doctor Alfenheimer watched from his window after treating Atto's wounds for the second time in 12 hours.

 

[supertoastgirl]

Wesley D. Vernon and Eloise M. Scott
9:53 am, Wednesday, January 19th, 1846
​

Eloise gripped at the sleeve of Wesley's suit jacket as the train screeched. The sudden change in momentum sent Eloise's stomach into her chest. Wesley looked over at Eloise, sensing her tension. She looked pale, but that was to be expected from such a long journey. Wesley reassured her with an endearing smile, she responded by drawing close to him and clasping onto his left hand. In Wesley's other hand was his medical bag, a subtle doctor's symbol was embossed into the worn leather. The two had been ushered to stand by the exit of the train, their luggage close by. The train wanted to stay ahead of time, and making a stop in this no-name town wasn't looked on kindly by the conductor.

The fast beat chugging of the engine had been slowing for the past twenty minutes, but now it had ended. The train whistle rattled the lonesome wilderness that surrounded Walburn, and a jet of steam hissed like an angry cat. The train was at a standstill, ready to dump the two fools who had decided to come this far west without any advice. The heavy steel door burst open by a worker, their luggage was quickly dispensed from the train and set on the landing. Wesley thanked the men who had brought them here so safely before stepping out onto the landing himself. He and Eloise had seen what looked like a crowd of people gathered around the train station, but steam from the train billowed out and made his sight unfair.

A man greeted the two of them, he explained that he was the mayor of Walburn. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Wesley said, "I'm Dr. Wesley Vernon, and this is my wife, Eloise." Wesley was practically yelling these facts out, the train regaining momentum and continuing its quest West. The steam dissipated and the couple was now able to see the townsfolk sitting around ready to meet them. Wesley blinked at the crowd. How unusual. Wesley continued his conversation with the mayor, trying to clear up some logistics. They were going to need a place to stay while their home was being built.

Eloise smiled toward a couple of young children who had come up to her. "Heya," a little girl with auburn curls called. "Oh, hello," Eloise said back at the child. "Ma name is Georgia," she girl said confidently. "The honor is mine," Eloise said with a playful curtsy. The girl mimicked her before blurting out "You talk funny!" Eloise chuckled at the remark and retorted with "Well you talk pretty funny yourself, deary."

"Did you come from Baltimore? Ma brotha says they talk real funny there." Eloise shook her head at the question. "No, my husband and I have come from New York. But I was born in England," she explained. The little girl made a curious sound. Eloise wasn't sure if the girl was impressed or didn't believe her tale at all.

 

[SelectingKnight]

John, after drinking too much whiskey and passing out for a while, spoke to the bartender. "Th... Thanks for letting me sleep. I haven't been myself lately." He dropped down a five dollar bill on the counter and stumbled out the door. Surprised to see his horse, Seamus, still tied to the hitching post, John hopped on.

He rode by the livery and bought some feed and then by the general store for some canned food and other provisions. John loaded his supplies in his saddlebags and made way for the miner's camp. After talking around he found a one bedroom house with house being a generous, loose term. It had two windows and a door on the front wall. Inside, it was one large room with a stove for cooking and heat, a large, rickety bed, and a large iron tub for bathing. John thought to himself, This is perfect.

John found the owner and talked with him. With business being slow, the miner jumped at the offered of 45 dollars. John heard him hooting and hollering all the way to the saloon. John took a few moments to relax and then started to fix up his home. He patched a hole here and there, picked up different bits and pieces of trash left behind. He then sat down by his new table in his new home and put his feet up. John knew he'd need some furs soon to cover his bed. He would ride into town tomorrow and see about procuring a wagon, some furniture, and those pelts.

 

[idalie]

Evelyn J. Bonney
​

Evie had returned to the saloon that evening, with the help of one or two local wives who'd gotten up in the lunacy of the night. They helped her in, tucked her up after a good bath and returned to their own homes. Henry, her brother, had accounted for what was going on with explanations from here and there; getting understandably distressed and angered. Evelyn was his sister, more than that she'd done her best to be a second mother at Lavinia's absence. Now he was a drunkard, he wouldn't call himself anything else for he owned up to his sins and weaknesses. The young man, scruffy and unkempt wouldn't sleep soundly. His heart thundering in his chest at the thought of blood on his hands.

Come morning, Eve woke later than usual. Around half-eight, the young woman dragged her battered and bruised body from the bed to see how bad it'd turned out. Immediately Eve cringed from the sight of her legs, on the thighs especially were blossoming blues and purples, dotted with a slight red. Her fingers had been cleaned but the nails were cracked and broken, raw and painful to the touch. It was her feet, perhaps that suffered the most concerning flesh wounds, cut up on the bottom and between the toes, causing Eve to douse them in rubbing alcohol and curse her way into a sailor's blues. Bandaging them up, Bonney wore her thick winter stockings to conceal and give a measure of comfort before having to corset her waist with watering eyes and a long Sunday-best dress that covered her arms.

Bonney wouldn't risk looking like some damsel, even if she had sobbed her way through half a night, showing herself to be strong in the face of adversity and again Evie wouldn't miss the train for all the tea in China. It was good for marketing and no asshole was gonna change that; no tears on her part were stopping her from giving some deserved left-hook to Tacitus Lockheart's stupid face, make his nose crooked enough for it to match his damn reputation.

Braiding up her hair into a bun of red ribbons, she donned a hat to keep it in place, tying under her chin; slipping her unsightly hands into soft leather gloves before stepping out. Henry accompanied her with his sudden and rather confusing worry, alarming Eve. Henry was never the kind to do anything of the sort. Then again, it wasn't every day she'd had the seven hells knocked out of her. Appearing at the train station to some surprise with a stern expression, she'd reminded herself to pack a basket for Mr Atto and something for thanks to Mr Connor. Much to her delight, she was there in time to see the locomotive roll in, hissing and whining in complaint as it slowed to a single halt. Eve hadn't seen a train, except for in magazines she oft read about the current goings on in the big cities. Children ran about the ankles of their elders causing havoc and whatnot, with the mayor greeting some fella and his dame who she heard through rumour would be the new doctor. Personally, she wasn't too kind when handling the city types, unless they proved themselves to be the good sorts. Doctors she could believe in, if they did a good job in offering a helping hand. Frilly looking women who hadn't seen employment or hard work in their life begged the question of what respect they deserved which wasn't riding on the backs of their husbands.

Mentioned: supertoastgirl Nebaros rebirth
Interactions: Open

Thomas K. Bishop
​

He was almost glad for the off-day, fiddling with a cigarette whilst reclining on some boxes stacked by the platform. He had seen trains before, hitched rides on them, been with a few unslightly smuggler types whilst he drifted but the excitement of them wasn't lost on the small town. Even the saloon was empty, no staff or patrons thought to stick around whilst some steam-heaving beast rolled up on the newly-built tracks. Personally, Thomas thought it to be bullshit to have a train line. Only went downhill from there when the frontier started mingling with the civilised, he'd seen it before. More opportunities for crime and still one sheriff, some old boy who kept the place in an odd sort of limbo.

His wide-brimmed hat was low on his face, revealing little of his uncut hair and unshaven face. Just cracked, worked hands that would roll himself another ciggie to add to his tin. Cheaper than buying them like some city folk did. Only occasionally badgered by a few of the younger boys who tried to talk him out of his tobacco, Bishop would scare them off quicker than they'd ask. Working his days chopping wood and nights drinking, there was few things he hated more than being driven to wait around for a mechanic horse and it's privileged cousin-fuckers. Not that he was in any way biased, but Bishop had constantly quoted that he'd rather be shot in the head than spend more than two days cooped up in a land of makebelieve and money.

He'd be moving on in a few more months anyhow, wasn't his problem. He'd take a path further out this time, try work up to Canada, find some cabin and settle with a pretty native gal if he could. Otherwise, he'd settle for any belle who was half decent looking and could cook a meal. He didn't really think to be looking for love, after all, Thomas had missed that boat more than a couple of times. Nobody thought to take him or he just fucked it up and they wouldn't take no more. But, mourning the past he wasn't inclined to. Plenty of old fellas had it good, used to say life without a wife was one of peace. Peace an' spending more time with prostitutes, before they caught somethin' bad and died crazy in the head from syphilis.

Depended on who you asked, Thomas supposed.

Bishop had even thought of getting into the bounty business, but he wasn't sure if chasing no-good murderers was something of a life when you could get comfy elsewhere. Sure the thrill was half of it, but he didn't need to get paid if someone did something that incited wrath of a usually placid, gentle man.

Mentioned: N/A
Interactions: Open

 

[supertoastgirl]

Wesley D. Vernon
​

The dark-haired doctor exchanged a pleasant enough conversation with the Mayor. He seemed the gentle type, but just gruff enough to make sense in a place like this. Wesley could already tell that he was going to like him. "Now," the Mayor stated, "There's been some trouble in town lately, but I don' think it's nothin' to worry 'bout. Don' let the gossip scare ya 'way jus' yet." With that, the man clapped Wesley on the shoulder and nodded toward a lean woman in the crowd. "Miss Bonney'll help ya find a place to sit while ya get ya house in order. She may even know where ta get ya a doctor's office." Before Wesley could respond the man was off, shaking hands and making chatter with the rest of the crowd. Wesely had fully expected the Mayor to help him and Eloise settle down for a time. After a moment he remembered these people were of the utmost independence. It was only fair to assume that he and Eloise would be too. There was no hand-holding in the West.

Wesley looked over at Eloise who was still making silly conversation with some young children. Perhaps she would even introduce herself to some women in town. God only knew how much help that woman was going to need in a place like Walburn.

"Miss!" Wesley called out as he made his way through some folks. He was headed toward the woman the Mayor pointed. "Hello," he said with a bright smile after coming face to face with her. Miss Bonney, Wesley thought he remembered as her name. She looked awfully run down and tired for the woman of reliance the mayor described her as. Perhaps she was ill. Then Wesley, the ever observant, noticed slight scraps and bruises that were visible. He could only presume that the damage he saw now was just the tip of the iceberg. After all, she was fully clothed, including gloves. Other than her half ghostly form she seemed a solid woman, perhaps even beautiful in her best attire and effort.

"I'm Wesley Vernon, the new doctor in town. My wife and I have come from New York to build a home." Wesley shifted for a moment. "I was told I could rent a room from you for a few months?" Wesley took a gulp of air in before finishing his thought, almost as if he needed to convince her. "We just need enough time to get ourselves situated and at least part of a cabin in the ground. We'll pay whatever the going rate is." Remembering, he spoke again, "Oh, and I'll be needing a doctor's office too. A room of yours, or if you don't take kindly to the sick in your establishment, another place that might be for rent in town."

idalie

 

[Nebaros]

Connor had managed to get an hour or two's sleep before the activity from outside got him out of bed and down into the saloon for coffee and breakfast. He was worn out from the night before and was not in the mood for company, which was unfortunate since the town was due to have an influx of people coming in and he'd better man his stall, even if he had other things on his mind and wanted nothing more than to ride out of town and get some peace. He'd been in town for just over twenty four hours now and it had been eventful.

He'd just finished eating when he heard the train approaching, so he wandered out the front to watch while he smoked. He saw several well dressed men and women stepping down from the big machine, carrying their belongings with them in suitcases. He hoped the distraction of the new arrivals wouldn't keep the town from dealing with the gang lurking nearby.

He wanted to go see the sheriff to see what was being done with Tacitus, but as the new arrivals started filtering into the town he went to his stall to open up. He was hoping to sell off the remaining pelts he had in his wagon and get moving, but for now it seemed like people were getting settled first, and would probably not be buying much right away. Let them have one cold night on the frontier and they'd be coming to him tomorrow. He was frustrated again at how little he'd been able to collect before coming to town, but truthfully concerns about efficient stock management were the least of his worries. He kept his eyes peeled for anyone with orange clothing amongst the newcomers.

 

[idalie]

Evelyn J. Bonney
​

Approached by the young, dark-haired doctor Evelyn pulled her shoulders back and offered a surprised but warm smile. Her usual sunny disposition was currently replaced by trying to breathe without pain in a corset which had some vendetta toward her. However, there would never be rest for the wicked and Evie offered a hand to shake. The newcomer sounded somewhat American at least, kind enough and manners too. "Good to meet our new doctor in person, I'm sure Doctor Alfenheimer'll be pleased 'bout the help. He's lookin' real old these days."

Bonney then gave a small laugh which would've carried through before her hand was placed across her abdomen in support. "Room? Oh, we got room Mr Vernon. The rates go as forty cents for just the room, but fifty cents and you get a bath, laundry, three square meals. Drinks at the bar cost extra though, but coffee is always free. I got a nice double room for you an' your sweetheart there, I keep everythin' clean so I'll come through every so often an' polish everythin' up." The saloon owner explained, "You can pay at the end of every month, considerin' you're long term or whenever makes you happy." Evie continued to wrap her hands around one another whilst the basket nestled in the crook of her elbow. "But, lemme jus' say, if you need help buildin' a cabin, jus' ask 'round the lumberyard an' pay 'em in whiskey an' grilled steak. Ain't get no better labour." She winked in knowing.

At the suggestion, he could open up the practice in her saloon, Evie shook her head. "Nah Doc, I know what can happen. I ain't havin' me or my family, or even my patrons catchin' somethin' bad. I'd say yes if it was just me but I've seen some families knocked down one by one. I'll tell you what though, talk to Alfenheimer. He's three knocks away from six feet deep, might be worth tryin' to see if he'll accept some company, teach you a few things 'bout his regular patients, make sure people ain't gonna be scared of a new face. 'Cause trust me, in a small town like this, its hard to be trusted unless you was born n' bred. I mean, I'll vouch for ya if you do some good work but otherwise ... it's a hard thing you gotta do by yourself."

Eve continued to check her wristwatch. "I gotta be goin' -- if you can't get Alfenheimer to help, you might hav' ta set up little ways outta the square. Say hello to that Mrs Vernon of yours, I'll see ya this evenin' if I can. I gotta go check on a couple a' souls." Evie, with that continued to venture toward the old Doctors in search of Attoph, Henry by that point had vanished, something Evelyn supposed he'd gone to gamble.

But Henry, instead, would be trailing off toward the sheriff's and subsequently the local jail he'd spent more than his fair share of days in. It wasn't clear what he was going to do when he got there, just see if he could spot the animal that hurt his sister.

Mentioned: rebirth
Interactions: supertoastgirl

Thomas K. Bishop​

Sooner or later, the spectacle was finished and people starting to return to their places of employment or otherwise. Thomas was swift about getting to the saloon and stopped past the pelt-seller. He'd rolled into town not too long ago, and would probably be rolling out soon enough. "Bad day for business, huh?" Bishop remarked, adjusting his scuffed jacket before looking over the furs himself. He pulled out his tin and selected one of his pre-rolled cigarettes, lighting it up with a small matchbook before discarding the wooden peg on the ground. The lumberer ran his hand through some of the merchandise and found a sufficiently thick one. "How much? Gonna need a couple more of these before I start movin' North again, I'm tellin' you. Colder than a witches tit." Tom half mumbled through his puff of tobacco.

He reached back for his wallet, a beaten old thing, mapped with cracks and worn with a few holes. The button that clipped it closed had even fallen off. Bishop itched his cheek, a coarse sound of stubble and skin whilst he waited for the gent that could've been somewhere between thirty to fifty with the amount he appeared to have been through. Ambiguous to say the least. "Gotta ask where you was huntin' before this, some damn good shit. I was thinkin' myself 'bout gettin' some of them winter pelts in when the snow comes. Sure as hell will save my hide, be damned if I'm stayin' with a bunch of city slickers for longer than I hav'ta."

Mentioned: N/A
Interactions: Nebaros

 

[rebirth]

Wednesday, Janurary 19, 1846
10:02 A.M.​

Atto remained unconscious in the medical cot as Alfenheimer read a newspaper in the wooden chair next to him. The details of last night's assault had not been printed yet; the culprit, who sat in a cell next door, had not been interrogated, and the victims had not yet been interviewed.

Although Alfenheimer was unsure of what had happened, he had a basic idea. He knew, for sure, that poor Evelyn had been kidnapped by a criminal who had greatly injured Atto, and he knew that someone chased after him. That was it, though, and Alf didn't want to know what happened after.

As he was zoning out, he flinched to the sound of the glass door being pushed open. He moved his eyes above his newspaper and glasses that rested on his nose to see a black priest in the entryway. Alfenheimer let a sad smile out from under the facade of the newspaper.

"Mornin', Matthews. Whatchu doin' here so early?" He asked, looking back to his newspaper.

Father Matthews took a few slow steps toward the doctor and then stopped. He looked over to Atto, who lay on his back with a metal brace on his leg, and white cloths wrapped around his head, shoulder, and hand.

"I wanted to see mistah Gulfman. Got the news 'while ago; rushed over quick as I could."

 

[idalie]

Evelyn J. Bonney
​

Evie managed to reach Doctor Alfenheimer's by the time Father Matthews had, if not a little later. She hovered in the entryway a moment, rapping her knuckles gently on the doorframe to alert both men to her arrival. "Excuse me gentlemen, apologies for the intrusion, jus' thought to bring some things for Mr Atto. When he wakes up that is. Y'all ignore me." Bonney waved her hand nonchalantly, slipping past Matthews and bowing down to put the basket on the nearby table. She produced a small posy of flowers, some baby's breath to sweeten the air of the room and harebell for looks. Besides that, she placed some whiskey, a ribbon around the neck and a small brown paper bag of baked goods.

Henry, on the other hand, got into the sheriffs without much problem. He was too busy at the train ceremony and the younger Bonney knew the place like the back of his hand. Now Henry was young, yes, but he was built like his father. A lumberer through and through, with a nasty look on his face at that. Henry stalked along the series of cells until he spied Tacitus, kicking the door with a loud, disruptive clank and rattle. "Wus' you then? Huh?" He tucked his hands beneath his biceps, thumbs sticking upward. "Wus' you who thought it a good fuckin' idea to hurt my sister." Henry leant in, squinting at Lockheart.

"If I kill youse, it'd be fuckin' worth it. Huh, FUCKIN' WORTH IT, son?" This time Henry turned about and stood up straight, looking around the sheriff's office. "Brought her in, middle of the night, cold as anythin' and covered in bruises from head to toe." He mumbled angrily, "This'll do," His hand wrapped about a decorative billy club. Evidently awarded to the old sheriff for aesthetic purposes, but highlighted with iron and made of solid oak. Hefting it up off the wall, Henry pointed it toward Tacitus. "I'm gon' ask you this once and it'll spare your fuckin' knees, boy. You didn't make my sister a ruined woman, did ya?" His lip twitched upward in a restrained snarl. "Don't matter too much for you, any which way you look at it."

Sauntering to the drawer, a known place for the sheriff to put his cell-keys after Henry's recurrent arrests, he pulled out the bunch and gave a long whistle. "Tell ya somethin', Evie sure deserves better. Jus' ask for a favour an' she'll raise hell an' lower heaven. But I'm me, an' I'm sure I can make that nose come off."

Mentioned: N/A
Interactions: rebirth

 

[rebirth]

Tacitus Lockheart​

Tacitus stared up at the young man without a care in the world. He watched Henry grab the objects that were supposed to intimidate him, but he didn't have the energy to be intimidated; he had been awake all night, as the bed in his cell was too hard.

"I... I liked yer sister. She seemed like she could fend fer herself, 'n had a nice attitude at 'ta same time. You, on 'a other hand..." His voice trailed off. "You seem like ya couldn't do either."

Tacitus was obviously instigating Henry, but Tacitus didn't care. If only the sheriff came in here, Tacitus could threaten his son some more and he could be free. He started to wonder about his camp, and why nobody had sent for him. They probably thought he stopped halfway and set up camp for the night. Father would be ashamed.

 

[idalie]

Henry J. Bonney
​

"A piece of shit like you shouldn't even be lookin' in the same direction as my sister," Henry growled, tendons sticking out on his neck as he jammed the key in the lock and gave it a sharp twist. "An' a piece of shit like you shouldn't fuckin' open his mouth." Bonney swung the door open and immediately, swinging the billy club across Tacitus' face in a downward motion. An almighty crack resounding for a second before he took to jamming the baton under the outlaw's ribs.

"You never answered my question either, DID YOU TOUCH HER--" He bellowed, close enough to smell the stale moonshine on his breath. "'Cause if you did I swear to God n' his disciples I'll have your FUCKING GIZZARD," Henry again roared and winded Lockheart with a blow to the chest, hopefully knocking him to the floor where Henry would let his guard down by crouching at Tacitus' side. "I swear I'll scalp you like an injun and rip your tongue off, ay? Might do some good. One thing people hate more than an outlaw is a disfigured one. An ugly sonovabitch."

Bonney rested the heavy end of the baton between the outlaw's shoulder blades. "Tell me the truth and we can forgive with a scuffle. Eve'll be disappointed in me, but you know, she ain't got nothin' but hate for you. I doubt local folks think any different."

Mentioned: N/A
Interactions: rebirth

 

[rebirth]

Tacitus fell backwards, the bed catching him from landing on his back. A small stream of blood trickled down from his nose from where he had been struck in the face, and Tacitus wiped it off with his hand. "Christ, kid. See you got the "fend fer yerself" part from ya sister." Tacitus fixed himself to where he was on one knee, and thrust himself to his right, into Henry.

He raised his hand to strike Henry, but stopped. The train. Tacitus's expression changed to one of confusion and terror. We were supposed to get the train. Father is going to be furious.

 

[idalie]

Henry J. Bonney
​

Bowled over by Tacitus, Henry grunted but wasn't caught out for long as he grabbed the outlaw by the neck and set his intent on strangling the life out of the man. After managing to detach himself and pick up the baton, Henry smacked it into Tacitus' ribs and stomach. Twice before he had to duck out of the way and recieved a right shiner on his eye. Bonney wasn't finished by a long mile. His question went unanswered and he was more than angry. His silence on the matter seemed to prove something and the lumberer wasn't having any of it.

Bringing the bat again over Tacitus' head he forced it by the end into his nose. Breaking what was left of any bone and splitting the cartilage. Then, dropping the club he kneeled over Lockheart and began to punch him. Unrelenting knuckles raining down to the point his cheekbone fractured and sunk, the jaw by a miracle having not come loose but sure as hell was Henry up and to his feet. Spying a whiskey bottle he licked his chapped, blood-specked lips and grinned. Smashing it to a jagged series of points, alcohol running down his hands to sting the bruised flesh, Henry drove it into Tacitus' face.

The glass edge caught his nose, mouth and part of the cheek. Tearing apart what was left of the outlaws nose, Bonney kept twisting it before a chunk hung by skin alone. The bottom lip gashed, upper one surviving and his face scarred deeper than what was on the forehead. "YOU FUCKING DOG -- YOU FUCKING ANIMAL -- YOU'D BETTER FUCKING REMEMBER THE NAME BONNEY -- TOUCH MY SISTER, YOU BASTARD."

Mentioned: N/A
Interactions: rebirth

 

[rebirth]

Tacitus lay there, his face aching and stinging with the seething pain that was brought on with the bottle. The sharp edges of the bottle, laced with alcohol, had pulled his face and nose apart, sending Tacitus into a hole of misery. Tacitus rocked left and right on his back, holding his face, blood gushing through his fingers at a slow, steady pace. Tacitus, groaning in pain as he thought about all of his life choices, started to cry.

******************
Doctor Alfenheimer
​

"What a lovely surprise, Miss Bonney!" Father Matthews said, looking to Evelyn. Alfenheimer looked over to him, then to her. Then, Matthews started to speak again, glancing at Atto with a gloomy face. "It's a real shame what happened to 'im. He was such a good man, always, and to see that some'un would even think of doin' this to anyone turns m' stomach."

Doctor Alfenheimer, putting the newspaper he had been reading for a total of seven seconds before being interrupted down, looked to Evelyn. "Try not'ta touch 'im, miss. Not try'na be hateful 'r anythin' but if he's touched he could be hurt even more'n he already is. It's outta my hands and expertise what happens to 'im now, I'm afraid." The doctor adjusted his glasses and examined Atto, an expression on his face resonated a melancholic feeling throughout the room.

 

[idalie]

Henry J. Bonney​

"Nobody touches my sister, Lockheart." Henry uttered, dropping the sharpened bottle with a clink. "It's wise you remember that, son. You ain't shit." Henry hefted himself up, glanced at the nose which had all but fallen off and smirked. He gave it a yank snapping what skin was holding it and letting it roll onto the floor. Bonney wandered over to the sheriff's basin, wet his hands, then face, and shrugged off his blood-stained jacket. Using a damp palm he ran it through his hair, adjusting it back into place and glanced once more at the outlaw. "You ain't shit." The repetition was harsher and gave him something to say on the way out, gently closing the door behind him as he wandered back out into the town. Avoiding having questions asked, Henry headed straight back to the saloon for a change of clothes and something to drink. Perhaps a whiskey -- now he thought about it.

Mentioned: N/A
Interactions: rebirth

Evelyn J. Bonney
​

"Likewise, Father." Eve smiled, inclining her head politely. She attended church with the best of them, never fervent in her religious needs but there was always a sense of comfort she got. From the priests to the community, the simple beauty of the chapel and kind disposition people had. Even some of the worst could be found to seek redemption, be as they may. Doctor Alfenheimer spoke again, causing Evelyn to glance up and smile with some measure of sorrow. "Oh, I won't lay a finger. Jus' wanted to drop some get-well gifts off, you know how it is. Brighten the room a bit, in case he wakes up."

Bonney glanced down. "He was kind, never knew him too well, but he didn't deserve somethin' like this. I got him in my prayers, as much as it'll help." The saloon owner offered, glancing again to Matthews. "I suppose I best be goin', I got more errands to run. Don't wanna cause no trouble for Mr Gulfman. Call for me if anythin' happens, an' I can watch over him if you ever need the break." Eve requested, adjusting the bow under her chin with a small sigh.

Now all that was left was giving Mr McCarthy his thank-you and being sure that those new folks' room was up to standard. There were floors to be scrubbed, cooking to be done, liquor to be sold and laundry to be washed. Already her sides were complaining. But, she was sure she had some laudanum left from a prior fever she'd caught a winter back. With some of that she'd be good to go. And Henry, that boy, she'd have to check he'd not spent all his wages on dice again.

Mentioned: Nebaros supertoastgirl
Interactions: rebirth