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Post by Pattilia Longfellow on Jan 11, 2017 15:43:52 GMT -5
- Clover snapped out of it and quickly.
‘Boy Howdy! Am I ever so sorry Patti, look at me? Cryin’ like a girl! Bless your heart for not throwing me out on my ass, where I belong’.
The moment Clover's head left Patti's shoulder, gloved fingers lifted to press against her temple, and the embracing arm dropped to the table. Immediately after, Patti looked much more tired than before, like her old worn-out self from evenings past, and she pressed her elbow into the table to support her head. She was more grateful for Clover's wise decision to move away then the petite woman could possibly realize.
Bless your heart. Did she even have a heart anymore? And why did such a saccharine, back-handed compliment make her skin crawl? With her eyes shut, she contemplated Tamassa's suddenly intrusive and teasing hiss, and her jaw clenched tighter. Did the madame think so little of her as to let her lose control in the already barren saloon and likely die at the hands of an unruly town mob? Or was this some sort of test?
Lifting her head with a deep sigh, Patti was about to answer Clover's poignant questions about being saved or cursed. Right on cue, though, Tamassa took her lips against her own, and the redhead knew she was powerless to stop it. Whether by newfound devotion, the force of being Tamassa's progeny, or even perhaps from deeper feelings, Patti leaned up into that kiss, and melted as a tingle traveled through her body along her bones, captivating her in more ways than one. Her hand reached for the madame's cheek, not wanting to break away so quickly, but Tamassa was easily bored and soon took her leave.
Confused and left to fend for herself again, Patti's arm slowly dropped back to her side, and she turned a slow, rueful smile to Clover. "I suh-pose that might be answerin' most'uh your questions." Her hand slipped from the table and rubbed at her own thigh, as if nursing an old wound -- or perhaps just the memory of one.
"Dere anythin' else you'd like to ask me?" Green eyes, once normally dark with wear and exhaustion, were now gleaming jewels, enticing and direct. The hunter was on the prowl. Tamassa had found a snack, so why shouldn't she? She was by no means a master of the hypnotic eyes, but Patti was sure she could still charm the young lady. Just a nibble wouldn't hurt poor Clover, right?
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Post by Blood and Roses on Jan 11, 2017 19:04:24 GMT -5
Though he knew he was invisible to the mortal eye, Steven couldn't help but crawl on his belly through the Chemist shop's aisles. He liked to feel that he was sneaking along undetected -- nevermind that he could be turning cartwheels without being noticed. He pretended that he was an army ranger, like his brother Silas had been, creeping deep in Indian territory where being spied meant torture and death.
The game was fun for a few minutes, but sadly Steven found nothing of interest at floor level. He stood to get a better look around. Most of what he could see, he didn't comprehend, but it all looked perfectly ordinary.
Steven frowned, his tiny face comical in its seriousness. Samuel had promised something interesting in the queer little shop, but so far, nothing. He humphed, then stood on his toes to peer over the counter ledge.
Finally he had spotted something of interest.
The world through Steven's eyes looked much like anyone else's, but the colors and shades were different. Most things, inanimate things, were devoid of color, just stark outlines and pale silhouettes. Living things glowed with an inner light. This, however, blazed like fire on mirror glass. A sphere the size of a coyote's head, or nearly so, resting on a conical cradle of bronze.
Steven climbed up on the counter and stretched his ghostly little body to its full length, stubby fingers grasping. He gently took it in his hands, and gasped with delight as he lifted the orb from its cradle. He stared in wonder, hefting it with sparking eyes. He gasped once more as the sphere lifted itself from his hands to hang suspended in the air before him. It began to spin slowly, and pinpricks of light shown forth like a thousand stars cast upon the walls, ceiling and floor.
"Steven! Move away from there!" Samuel rushed into the room, grabbing Steven by the shoulders and dragging him back a few steps. "You can't do that!"
"Aww, c'mon Sammy!" objected Steven, struggling in his brother's grasp. "I only touched it a little!"
"That's what I'm talking about, knuckle head!" Samuel scowled and gesture at his brother's shirt, and his own, where tiny stars twisted and danced. "You shouldn't be able to touch it! These lights shouldn't touch us! We're ghosts, for crying out loud!"
Steven beamed a smile. "Isn't it wonderful?"
A sound from the back of the shop made both boys freeze.
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James sat watching the exchange between Patilla and Clover in rapt fascination. The transformation from sour thug to comforting companion made his head spin. He sighed, starry eyed, and swatted playfully at one of her dreadlocks. His spectral fingers passed right through it, but he didn't seem to notice.
Nearby, Virgil also sat observing the odd couple, his expression pensive. Clover Stardust had Called him. Somehow, she had reached across the void to summon him. Not the way Alister did; his brother's Call was like being swept up in a cyclone and jammed through a keyhole. This was different, subtle, like a polite tug at his sleeve, and a thin silver thread that lead to its source. He had followed it, curious, to find Clover at the end. She had not opened the Way, so he could not pass through the Shroud to manifest in her world. So he sat, and watched, puzzled.
Just what was she, this Clover Stardust? She was no Exorcist, like Alister. So how had she Called him?
Silas drifted into the saloon, floating above the head of Madame Tamassa, straining in an attempt to see down her blouse. Unsuccessful, he went to join his brothers in the corner.
"What are you two up to?" he asked conversationally.
"Thinking," said Virgil. "You might try it sometime."
James sighed wistfully. "I bet she could lift the back of a wagon," he said dreamily.
Silas snorted in derision. "You guys are pathetic! The real action is upstairs! What are you--"
Madame Tamassa sashayed over and planted a kiss on the surprised, but eager, Patilla. James and Silas set to whooping and hollering, creating a racket only they could hear.
Virgil rolled his eyes. "I'm going to check in with Walter," he said as he drifted out through the window.
The others hardly noticed his departure. Silas elbowed his brother. "Look!" He said excitedly. "She's picked the farm boy again! This oughta be a good show!"
James nodded absently. "A wagon... With Tamassa sitting in it."
Silas threw his hands up in disgust and trailed the farm boy up the stairs.
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Sheriff Conrad listened, occasionally nodding sympathetically as the inebriated Cat Wilson railed once more at the mysterious appearance of the Chemist shop. "Don't you fret, Ms. Wilson," he said, voice soft and low. "I'll be investigating that new store. I'll get to the bottom of this, you have my word." Cat seemed satisfied, and her agitation subsided.
After a minute more of fumbling and searching, Cat found her key and stumbled into her store. The sheriff looked on, concerned, as she mumbled about needing to lay down. "Yes, ma'am, I would say so," he agreed, a small smile touching the corners of his mouth. Cat turned to thank him for escorting her home, but closed her eyes and swayed alarmingly. Conrad reached out a staying hand, until she regained some bit of her balance, and shuffled on toward the rear of the store, to the door that led to her small home. "Get some rest, Mr. Wilson," he called after her, "you're gonna feel this in the morning." He drew a large ring of keys from his belt and sifted through them for the master key to all the shops in Deepdweller's Gulch. The key had come with the badge, and was the only one of its kind. He placed it in the lock and stepped out into the night. "I'm locking up," he called again, poking his head in. "Goodnight, Ms. Wilson."
He withdrew, but stopped, wincing, at the sound of Cat crashing through her door. He blew out a long breath and stepped back into the store. "Ms. Wilson?" When he received no response, Conrad eased his way through the shop, where he could see Cat sprawled on the floor through her cottage entry.
Conrad chuckled quietly. He'd seen several of his brothers in a similar condition, and hoped she hadn't smacked her head on the way down. She would have plenty of bumps and bruises, come morning.
He entered her home, and knelt beside the prostrate Cat. Conrad gently turned her onto her side; she had finally succumbed to the call of alcohol oblivion. Despite her disheveled appearance, she was still beautiful. He pushed her hair back from her face, a lingering touch on her cheek.
"Hands off, boy." Walter's gruff voice startled him. "This ain't proper."
"Lay off, Walt." Virgil scolded. "He ain't hurtin' her."
"I've never seen her so peaceful," Conrad said in wonder.
"Look around, ye damn fools." The steel edge in Walter's voice snapped his head up to examine the surroundings. "This lady belongs to another man."
The sheriff stared about at the many works of art covering the walls of Cat Wilson's home. Each was a depiction of some far-off land. Conrad had heard her speak French on occasion; perhaps this was Paris? And each painting, each sketch, all had one thing in common: the same man in each, lovingly drawn in painstaking detail, over and over, a hundred times over. Here he sat,a book in his lap beneath a shade tree. There, perched in a gondola, poling down a Paris canal. A brief twinge of disappointment made the sheriff frown. Walter was right -- her heart belonged to another.
Conrad rose and touched his fingers to the swirls of pigment that comprised Cat's mysterious beau. Conrad had never seen him in the Gulch. Where was he? the sheriff pondered. Why wasn't he here, with the lovely Ms. Wilson?
He quickly pulled his hand away as Cat stirred, eyes fluttering open. "Hello," she slurred, "you're still here."
"You took a tumble, ma'am. I just wanted to make sure you were in one piece." He smiled at her drunken grin. "Looks like you're still whole."
Cat struggled to stand, and though Conrad looped one arm beneath her shoulder, she clung to him as she rose on shaky legs. He ignored the heat of her body against his. "There ya go," he said with another smile.
As she wobbled off to the kitchen, Conrad glanced around the cottage once more. His eyes feel upon a sepia photograph of a handsome couple. As he spied the cracked glass, he frowned, and felt a stirring deep inside. A silent roar filled his ears, and he clutched his hands over them. The pounding of his heart felt like a hammer in his skull. Conrad gritted his teeth. "Not now, beast," he seethed.
It seemed like an eternity before the feeling subsided, and control returned. When it had Conrad became aware that Cat had stumbled into the hall, and lay on the floor again. She curled herself into a ball, and bawled as though her heart were breaking. Tears streaked down her face as she stared up at him.
"He left me..." she sobbed. "I lost my baby… then he left me…"
"Scoundrel," spat Walter, which drew a withering glare from Conrad. The eldest brother raised his hands in surrender and, seizing hold of Virgil, left them in privacy.
"I gave him everything…he promised me the world…" Cat choked back a sob, coughing as she moaned. "All I wanted was my baby.." she hugged herself tighter, her arms squeezing her knees further into her abdomen.
The torment on her face, the agony in her heart, was too much for him to bear. Conrad was at once powerless and despairing, and terribly angry. None of this showed on his face, though, as he knelt beside her once more, and he gently stroked her hair while she expelled her grief and misery.
When she started to calm, Conrad placed an arm beneath her head, and another behind her knees. With strong yet gentle arms holding her safely, he lifted the distraught Cat Wilson from the floor and carried her to her bedroom. Carefully he deposited her onto her mattress, and offered her a handkerchief from his pocket. Finding a handy stool nearby, Conrad sat beside her without a word, and lay a soothing hand upon her shoulder. He settled himself, content to remain a comforting companion until the storm that raged within her had past.
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Post by Clover Stardust on Jan 11, 2017 20:48:47 GMT -5
Clover raised a rather perfect eyebrow up in surprise at as the two women shared a kiss. Clover thought she’d seen in all before in the gulch, but this was new. She sighed deeply and let her body slouch in her seat she rolled her eyes, the statement not lost on her. Clovers dark eyes darted between the two women. Clover wasn’t necessarily one to judge, at least not without being drunk on magic… apparently.
"I suh-pose that might be answerin' most'uh your questions." Patti said.
‘Not particularly Patti, no it don’t’. She said, her dark eyes narrowed, not unfriendly, just concerned. She ignored Patti’s invitation to ask further questions, her annoyance and exhaustion was evident. Patti was never an ugly woman, maybe a little wild, suffered from a touch of the plain Jane, but she sure did make one beautiful Vampire. Clover didn’t blink as she met her friends gaze. She was so different, but she could see, or maybe feel the miner’s daughter somewhere in that cold shell.
Whenever she had one of her dreams, Clover felt her brain give a little… push. It was a strange sensation, hard to comprehend and even harder to explain, not that she tried explaining to anyone, but she could feel the push now. She wondered what would happen if she just flexed that muscle, just a bit. Patti was watching her, she could see her expression change ever so slightly, and those pretty green eyes almost took on another hue as they bore into Clovers consciousness.
‘Now Patti, when I came to this sorry town, I never even heard the word ‘Vampire’. You best believe I’m awful clever and faster than I look, I’m sure as heck a quick study… You can’t use them pretty eyes on a body like me’. Clover’s gaze never left Patti’s but she made it very clear that her pistol was already in her hand and pointed at Patti’s stomach.
‘As much as it’ pains me to draw on a friend, This is all but a friendly warnin’ you keep them fangs away from me, you hear me Pattillia Longfellow? Now, would my shot kill you? maybe not, maybe it would just hurt a dickens or maybe I got silver bullets? You remember who you are Pattillia Longfellow, you think on your daddy. If you can’t think on that, you remember who I am’. Clover said dangerously. She stood up slowly and calmly walking away from her friend, heading up the stairs, keeping her body on a strange unnatural gait, carefully not to turn her back on her friend, lest the bloodlust had already taken over.
‘Freddy, you tell them girls if they intervene, they’ll wish they were dust along with all the others’, Clover called out as she passed. With a revolver still in her hand, and The Sight buzzing in her skull, she knew exactly where to go. She sensed a living body and a dead one in the main lounge. She kicked the door in, stronger than what seemed possible in her petite frame. She caught a quick glimpse of her fractured reflection in a mirror. You couldn’t sneak up on a Vampire, but she hoped Tamassa wouldn’t expect such a raucous from Clover, or maybe she did? Who knew what the Madame expected.
‘Now, look at you Geoffrey. Your mama know where you spend your nights? You know your daddy done died in the quake and now she’s gotta worry about her only boy’s whereabouts?’ Clover said, before addressing Tamassa.
‘Now I ain’t here to take you on, probably kill me before I knew I was dead. All I’m here to do is talk... You and the Sheriff been getting awful close lately, and I ain’t one to stand in the way of the man’s happiness, but I warn you, you hurt Sheriff Conrad, I’ll kill you dead. Don’t know how I’d do such a thing, you best believe it’s a promise. I’ll find a way, even if I have to come back from the dead to do it’ Clover said, her voice taking on a dangerous tone, likely one Tamassa had never heard in the girl before. She spun her revolver around in her hand, showing off. The charms that hung from a chain attached to the butt of her revolver made a whistling noise, disappointed at being drawn twice and not fired. With all the confidence in the world, Clover turned and left, once again, careful to not turn her back completely. She avoided Pattillia’s gaze, not sure if it would be her friend looking back at her or a monster filled with a new murderous rage.
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Madame Tamassa
Wannabe
Owner of the Best little Whorehouse in Texas.. errr.. I mean Deepdwellers Gulch.
Posts: 31
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Post by Madame Tamassa on Jan 12, 2017 6:07:43 GMT -5
*The poor farmhand had already drunk the special drink the Madame had prepared him and was lounging naked on the bed with a dreamy smile on his face when Clover kicked the door in. Tamassa turned, slender hand on cocked hip as she met Clover’s gaze with an arched brow. ~You got a death wish, little one?!~ she snarled, stepping closer to the dark haired beauty.
‘Now, look at you Geoffrey. Your mama know where you spend your nights? You know your daddy done died in the quake and now she’s gotta worry about her only boy’s whereabouts?’ Clover said, before addressing Tamassa. Geoffrey nodded and waved at the ceiling before mumbling ~… can you smell cookies?..~ Tamassa nodded and whispered ~ .. yes.. all kinds of cookies.. ~ before she turned her attention back to what Clover was saying.
‘Now I ain’t here to take you on, probably kill me before I knew I was dead. All I’m here to do is talk... You and the Sheriff been getting awful close lately, and I ain’t one to stand in the way of the man’s happiness,’ her words caused Tamassa to blink in surprise, but she chose to say nothing as Clover continued her rant. ‘ but I warn you, you hurt Sheriff Conrad, I’ll kill you dead. Don’t know how I’d do such a thing, you best believe it’s a promise. I’ll find a way, even if I have to come back from the dead to do it’ Clover said, her voice taking on a dangerous tone, one Tamassa had never heard in the girl before. She spun her revolver around in her hand, showing off. With all the confidence in the world, Clover turned and left, once again, careful to not turn her back completely. Madame Tamassa watched her go, wondering why Patti hadn’t seized the opportunity downstairs to take this poor, clueless girl and have her way with her. She knew it had been a while since Patti had fed and figured it was just a matter of time before she lost all sense and reason and went to town on Clover. Clover was clearly closer to the Sheriff than Tamassa had realised and this new piece of information did little to quell the green eyed monster of jealousy that was already taking up permanent residency in Tamassa’s twisted heart. Making a mental note not to drink too much in case she need to share her meal with Patti, Tamassa bent over poor Geoffrey and bestowed a dazzling smile upon the hapless fool, her fangs catching the light of a nearby candle. ~Just relax baby… let me do all the work..~ her dark hair fell in silken waves all around her as Geoffrey succumbed to her will, his sweet blood soon flowing from the two small holes in his neck into Tamassa’s hungry mouth. Time came to a stop. Thoughts of money, whores and death faded away as she sunk into the euphoric wave that washed over her……
~Shit!~ Tamassa growled as she leant back and wiped her mouth. The farm boy’s blood was starting to clot as the blood flow slowed and Tamassa sat back on her haunches with her hands on her thighs as she realised the boy was dying.
~Fuck..~ she muttered, her dark eyes flickering all over the body of the previously virile, healthy young man. Looking at him closely, Tamassa doubted the boy was any older than 18. His blood had been permeated with the taste of youth and it had been far too easy to enjoy as she had fed, her mind drifting off to think about the Sheriff and his current occupancy at Cat Wilson’s place. After their last encounter, Tamassa had been intrigued if not annoyed to realise that she was beginning to have feelings for the new Sheriff. There had been a spark of electricity the second her eyes met his during their first encounter. She had been making her way to the door, a dead body draped over one shoulder as the new Sheriff arrived to introduce himself. He had been all bright eyed and bushy tailed, a young man keen to make a difference in this previously lawless town. She had been wild eyed and stressed out, trying to get the body out before the other patrons had noticed. Yet still, there was a definite connection between them as their eyes met over the back of the poor miner who had had the distinct misfortune of pissing off Lysette. The Sheriff had been surprisingly understanding of her plight and after an intense exchange, they had come to an understanding. He had established 4 simple rules to ensure that business in Deepdweller’s Gulch would continue. 1 – No killing. 2- Paying customers only. 3- Less than 10 vampires in town at any given time. 4 – Must petition to sire and new vampires must be willing to be sired.
The last rule was more of a sign of a respect, as she had found out when she had sired Patti during the mine collapse. He just wanted to be informed if any new vampire was sired on his watch. With a slight grimace Tamassa reached out to grab ahold of Geoffrey’s wrist. She could feel his pulse, slow and weak before she dropped his arm with a sigh. Considering the boy hadn’t actually paid, Tamassa feared that she was in danger of breaking 2 of Conrad’s rules. Growling in frustration, she pushed herself up off the bed, kicking open the door and stalking back out into the hallway. The window at the top of the stairs drew her attention once more as she approached, and she looked down upon the Main Street as she walked to the top of the stairs, her eyes trained on the General Store. There was still no sign of the Sheriff, but as she watched, Tamassa saw a small light flicker at the back of Miss Wilson’s place, right about where the bedroom should be.
~Looks like something has indeed come up Sheriff..~ she growled, her feet practically stomping across the floorboards and down the stairs. Stopping halfway down the staircase, she glared over to Patti’s corner. Barely registering that she was still indeed interrupting something, Tamassa paused for the briefest of seconds before shrugging and yelling out to Patti. Clover was hovering nearby and Tamassa could see that Patti was soon going to be overcome by bloodlust. ~Oi! She can wait! Upstairs. Now. I need you.~ Turning on her heel, she marched back up the stairs and disappeared back into the main room. The boy was still where she had left him, his skin taking on a pale sheen that resembled her own appearance. Marching over to the boy, she picked up his cold arm again, this time searching in vain to find a pulse. By the time Patti arrived, poor Geoffrey’s soul had departed his body. If the Sheriff was in the room, he would see Geoffrey’s ghost hovering by the basin, trying to make sense of the scene he was now looking upon. Tamassa saw none of this however, her gaze focused on the body as her mind raced. When Patti finally walked through the door, she would find Tamassa pacing around the room. Her dark eyes would flash as they landed on Patti and Tamassa would growl ~So… looks like we got some trash to take out..~
In the General Store, Cat Wilson was riding the final waves of her torment. Deep wracking sobs still caused the occasional shuddering gulp of despair at Conrad’s feet. The torment on her face, the agony in her heart, was too much for him to bear. Conrad was at once powerless and despairing, and terribly angry. None of this showed on his face, though, as he knelt beside her once more, and he gently stroked her hair while she expelled her grief and misery.
When she started to calm, Conrad placed an arm beneath her head, and another behind her knees. With strong yet gentle arms holding her safely, he lifted the distraught Cat Wilson from the floor and carried her to her bedroom. Carefully he deposited her onto her mattress, and offered her a handkerchief from his pocket. She accepted it gratefully, silently watching him from behind wide, haunted eyes as he found the stool, and sat beside her without a word, laying a soothing hand upon her shoulder. He settled himself, content to remain a comforting companion until the storm that raged within her had past. Although she never acknowledged him, Cat was painfully aware of the Sherfiff’s presence, secretly welcoming the rare company. She knew she was in no fit state to be seen by anyone, let alone the Sheriff of her town and she felt her cheeks burst into flame as she lay on her bed, reaching down to draw up her quilt.
~Thank you for seeing me home Sherif..~ she said in a soft tone. ~I do apologise for my state…~ she trailed off as she plumped up her pillow and started bedding down for the night, her tears drying on her rosy cheeks. Her eyes drifted to the sketch she had tacked beside her bed. Tomas’s dark gaze bore into hers, surprisingly real and intense despite being formed from nothing more than charcoal and paper. ~Have you ever been in love?~ she asked, her emerald eyes searching Conrad’s for the longest of moments before fluttering closed. ~It hurts..~ she whispered, yawning and covering her mouth with a slender hand which then floated back down to rest upon her chest. Her eyes flickered open and she gasped as she saw Tomas looking down at her, but as eyes grew accustomed to the soft candlelight that had so angered Madame Tamassa a few minutes before, she realised it was just the Sheriff. He seemed such a good man. A kind man. Overcome with embarrassment again, she offered him a rare smile. ~Goodnight Sheriff… thank you again.. and please..~ her eyelids drooped close and her words were barely a whisper. ~ … forgive me..~ It was unclear as to whose forgiveness she sought, but Cat was soon snoring softly and lost to the realm of tormented dreams.
Elsewhere..
Her hair was barely dry, tumbling down her shoulders in loose, glossy dark waves as Caelyn left the bathroom, untying the sash of her nightgown as she made her way over to the pile of clothes she had discarded earlier. She was just rifling through the garments when a noise caught her ear. The Sherif had stopped knocking and hollering a few minutes ago, allowing her the time to dry her hair but now as she stood half naked and dripping on her bedroom floor, Caelyn could clearly hear a sound that made her blood boil. Although the sound itself was unidentifiable at this point, its location was not. Someone was in her shop! Wrapping the black satin robe back around herself, she knotted the sash at the waist and strode purposefully towards the shops entrance. Pushing her way through the beaded curtain, she stood for a moment behind the counter, allowing her eyes to grow accustomed to the semi darkness, the silvery moonlight providing the only light in the otherwise dark store.
Caelyn watched in fascination as another colour revealed itself to her. A strange indigo hued wisp of smoke was making its way up and down the ailses. Caelyn had a strong sense of youth – mischief and curiosity radiating from the spirit she could see was now standing still. The smoke moved up onto the counter, and she stepped back into the shadows so that it would not notice her. It seemed intent on reaching something above the counter.
Although he appeared to Caelyn as an indigo mist, she watched as Steven climbed up on the counter and stretched his ghostly little body to its full length. He gently took large sphere in his hands, and gasped with delight as he lifted the orb from its cradle. He stared in wonder, gasping once more as the sphere lifted itself from his hands to hang suspended in the air before him. It began to spin slowly, and pinpricks of light shown forth like a thousand stars cast upon the walls, ceiling and floor. Caelyn was watching this all in silent shadows when she heard a voice penetrate the silence of the shop.
"Steven! Move away from there!" Samuel rushed into the room, grabbing Steven by the shoulders and dragging him back a few steps. "You can't do that!" Caelyn saw a strong yellow smoke enter the shop and head straight for the purple puff.
"Aww, c'mon Sammy!" objected Steven, struggling in his brother's grasp. "I only touched it a little!"
"That's what I'm talking about, knuckle head!" Samuel scowled"You shouldn't be able to touch it! These lights shouldn't touch us! We're ghosts, for crying out loud!"
Steven beamed a smile. "Isn't it wonderful?"
A sound from the back of the shop made both boys freeze as Caelyn stepped out from her hiding place. ~Well now…. “Sammy”,~ she drawled, fixing her glare on the two swirling puffs of smoke. ~If you know the rules of ghosts, then surely you know the rules of this place? No ghouls allowed..~ She reached out and the orb flew quickly to her outstretched hand where it glowed a deep, pulsating purple, the same colour as the ghost who had been identified already as Steven. ~Interesting..~ she murmured before allowing the orb to return to its previous resting place. The younger spirit seemed to grow smaller as the older energy took dominance, clearly protecting his younger brother. ~We aint breaking any rules!~ the voice rang out around the store. ~My brother was curious.. I came to get him. Noting got broken. We’re leaving now..~ He grabbed hold of Steven and tried to drag him towards the door. ~Why are you two here anyway?~ she asked, making her way out from behind the counter. She felt the purple energy, the one known as Steven, attach himself to her as she made her way through the shop towards the door. ~I take it you’re residents of the Gulch?~ The purple energy churned with excitement as Steven nodded. ~We’re with the Sherif.~ Caelyn stifled a snort ~Figures. ~ She growled. Reaching the front door, she pulled it open, glaring at the little silver bell as it rang its glee at having disturbed her again. Prepared to give the Sherif a piece of her mind for disturbing her after business hours, Caelyn was surprised and more than a little pissed, to find the front stoop of the store was empty. She stepped across the threshold, Steven by her side as she looked up and down the street.
~So where’s this Sherif then?~ She asked as she sensed Samuel float up behind her. The yellow smoke floated onto the stoop and then started drifting up the street towards the General Store. As Caelyn watched it go, she caught the sight of the Sherif in the distance, leaving the store and stepping out onto the street. The purple energy beside her giggled with delight, and she could see him skipping down the stairs in glee towards the man in black. From her position on the porch, she could watch as the Sherif approached and she liked what she saw. For a brief moment, she wished she had bothered to take the time to dress as she suddenly felt incredibly exposed in the thin robe she wore. Bristling, she reminded herself that she had a right to some down time, away from the job, regardless of how attractive some aspects of this particular job might be. As all the old frustration bubbled back up to the surface, she tossed her dark curls over one shoulder as he approached her. Steven danced back up the stairs to stand beside her as Samuel watched from the Saloon’s veranda. Casting her violet eyes over the Sheriff, her eyes widened as she took in the sight of him. Under his handsome human exterior, Caelyn caught a glimpse of what lurked inside. ~Hmmmm…~ she purred, studying him closely now. ~Evening… Sheriff is it? Surprising really… why a town would elect someone like you as their sheriff.. or should I say, something like you….~ She drifted off as she felt the indigo mist beside her sag with sadness. ~I take it these two are with you then?~ she asked the Sheriff, stepping back to lean against her door. As she did so, she noticed the sigils and portents she had painted on the door jab glow silvery purple in the moonlight. She realised that although the Sherif posed a threat to her, he would not be able to enter the store as his ghost friends had. Filing away this useful piece of information, she turned her full attention towards the Sheriff.
~Listen.. you can save yourself the speech. I know how this works.. been down this road a million times. This is your town… blah blah blah. You don’t like my kind around here… blah blah blah and I assure you I don’t like my kind being here either. I promise you, I will be getting my ass outta here as soon as I am physically able to do so.~ She took a deep breath and looked out upon the sleeping town. ~Problem is? You got some deep shit coming your way Sheriff. Some deep, evil.. truly fucked up shit. It’s coming, sooner than you think and I want to be out of here when it hits. Just like you though, I got a job to do. Someone in this town needs something I have in my store. That’s all I know so it’s pointless asking me any questions about it. I don’t know who or what, otherwise I would be out of here already. ~ She paused and looked back at the man who was standing on her stoop.
~If you give a shit about this town, I can help the people out while I’m here though. There is a lot of evil already in this town. I can make a tonic for your townspeople that will protect them from this evil, for a while at least. ~ She shrugged. ~Up to you. What I will tell you though? This isn’t my only rodeo.. I have a life ya know? So I have STRICT business hours, alright? In future, if that door is closed and that little sign..~ she pointed to where it stood in her window ~ says CLOSED like it does now? Then I’m CLOSED. As in GONE. So don’t disturb me after work again.. ~ her violet eyes turned darker, almost the colour of the sky above as she arched a brow at him. ~We understand each other?~
Realising she hadn’t bothered to introduce herself, the witch shrugged and stepped closer to the Sheriff, a perfectly manicured hand stretched out before her. ~Name is Caelyn Darkmoon by the way..~ she waited a moment to see if he would react at the mention of her last name. ~And you are?~*
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Post by Pattilia Longfellow on Jan 12, 2017 13:39:27 GMT -5
Frustration replaced Patti's attempt at patience the moment Clover started yakking away again, and the dark glare she'd been sporting all night soon returned. So much for playing it cool. She didn't even flinch or look at the gun pointed at her stomach, but the scowl deepened with every passing second Clover kept running her mouth, until all Patti could hear was the blood pumping through those pretty veins.
Her head slowly turned as Clover walked up the stairs, and it wasn't until the other woman darted for Tamassa's lounge that Patti realized too late what she was up to. The redhead had never been much for running or athletics before, but with this new life of hers, she was a red and black blur from her seat to the top of the stairs, just outside the periphery of the other patrons staring at the gunslinger. Clover was fast, sure, and maybe even unnaturally so, but Patti knew she was fast, too, if perhaps less coordinated. She hadn't been a vampire for long, after all.
Heeding Clover's warning shouted to Freddy, Patti stayed back on the balcony, hands tense, fingers clenching over and over at her sides as she seethed in annoyance. What good was an enforcer that didn't enforce? Still, Patti had first-hand experience with the effects of silver on a vampire, and there was a genuine risk in calling Clover's bluff. If only she knew more...
She continued to berate herself, imagining Lysette's howling laughter at her ineptitude, and grew bitter and angrier with every passing second, even as Clover began to withdraw. Whatever threats she'd made to Tamassa were lost to Patti's ears, and dark red lips curled back in a snarl as the woman confidently strolled by. Keeping her distance, Patti followed Clover down the stairs, hands at the ready by her hips. The bloodlust hadn't reached its peak yet, but it was close, and she still had enough wits about her to keep her fangs in check while there were other people in the bar watching.
Walking back by her corner near the bottom of the stairs, she was keen to keep marching Clover out of the establishment. At least if the spitfire left, Patti could find a way to calm herself and not destroy the saloon that had already been knocked down once.
- ~Oi! She can wait! Upstairs. Now. I need you.~
Her sire's voice froze Patti in place, head snapping in Tamassa's direction and expression sagging almost immediately into confusion. Without hesitation, Patti nodded, "Yes, Madame." Casting one more evil glare to Clover, she turned on her heel and followed Tamassa up the stairs.
Standing in the doorway of the lounge, Patti's face sank when she saw the pale, dead boy on the bed. Her jaw clicked as she opened her mouth to ask an obvious question, but she thought better of it immediately. Still, her face betrayed her disappointment in her sire. She let out a long sigh instead, and moved inside the room to close the door. The latch was busted, and she took a moment to register the broken door frame before squinting at the damage. Maybe it was a good thing she hadn't tried to take on Clover.
Turning back to Tamassa, Patti chewed her bottom lip. "Whatchoo wan' me t'do, Madame?" she asked expectantly. She was trying to figure out how she could shoot or stab the body, make it look like self-defense. Patti knew Tamassa kept a few hidden blades around the room for just such an event -- it was easier to explain a stabbing than claw and bite marks. Hopefully Tamassa was better at cover stories than she was, too, because Patti was at a loss.
Swallowing her disappointment, Pattilia moved to the bedside and began folding the covers over the naked young man and rolling him up. One way or another, the body had to be moved as quickly as possible, and the broken door wasn't much good anymore for keeping a secret. At least the hidden passage in the back of the room should keep prying eyes off the impromptu turndown service.
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Post by Blood and Roses on Jan 12, 2017 22:33:58 GMT -5
Conrad held his peace as Cat Wilson expressed her gratitude for his assistance. She'd have been worse off if he hadn't come to assist her, but she didn't need to know that. He only shook his head, a warm smile on his lips, as she fretted for her appearance. Far as drunks went, he'd seen far worse.
Then she caught him off guard when her green eyes locked with his own icy blues and asked, "Have you ever been in love?"
Conrad's mind raced back through all of the women he'd known. He knew women, sure enough; he knew attraction, and passion, and heartache. He knew secret smiles and shared breaths and overwhelming desire. But love?
"No ma'am," he said softly, his face downcast, "I don't believe I ever have."
Cat's expression said that she thought as much, and as her eyes fluttered closed, she whispered, "It hurts..."
Conrad only nodded. He could see as much.
Cat smiled for Conrad, murmuring her gratitude once more. He sat listening as her voice trailed off and her breaths came deep and regular. He rose then, and cast a last lingering look upon the sleeping woman. Conrad made his way through the darkened General Store, and locked the door behind him as he stepped out into the night.
Leaning against the wall just outside the door, Walter looked up from beneath his hat. "Took ya long enough," the eldest Conrad brother rumbled. "Didja kiss her goodnight, too?"
Conrad glared sideways at him, but the look held no conviction. "You know I didn't," he sighed at last. "I just got her safely to bed. What would she have done if I hadn't been there to help?"
Walter shrugged. "Woke up on the floor, like the rest of us."
"Trouble headed this way." Virgil, seated on the step, pointed up the street. Conrad could see Samuel speeding their way, fast as his ghostly legs would carry him.
"Samuel!" shouted the sheriff. "Where's Stevie?"
"Alister!" Samuel's Voice held an edge of panic. He skidded to a halt. "Alister!" Samuel doubled over, panting, breathless. "Stevie.. The chemist... She--"
"Knock that off, boy!" thundered Walter. "Quit playin' the fool!"
Samuel looked confused. "Spirits don't breathe," Virgil supplied helpfully.
Shamefaced, Samuel stood up straight with no sign of panting. He stared at his shoes. "Stevie is at the Chemist shop. The chemist, she..."
"Boy, were you spying at that woman?" Walter sounded furious.
"Walter, give the kid a chance!" Conrad scowled at the grumpy ghost. "Go ahead, Samuel," he encouraged.
"See, there was this ball, but it weren't like a ball, and Stevie picked it up." Conrad's frown made Samuel's voice pitchy. "I tried to stop him, I did! He was already messing with it when I got there, see, and I says--"
"Samuel, how in blazes would Stevie--"
"It happened that way, I swear! And that weren't the queerest part! Alister, she... She saw us."
Walter guffawed. Virgil cocked his head, a quizzical expression on his face.
"She did! Look!"
Conrad looked down the street, to the Chemist. There, on the porch, was a woman with hair as black as his own, standing on the front porch. Steven stood hand-in-hand with her, chattering to her excitedly. The woman nodded, distracted, staring back Conrad's direction.
"Well, I'll be damned," Walter said quietly. Virgil was on his feet.
"Sam, I'm sorry for doubting you," Conrad said to his brother as he stepped into the street. "Thank you for being patient with us. I'll try to listen next time."
"That'll be the day," grumped Samuel as he sped over to perch on the saloon veranda.
Steven clapped his hands and skipped down the stairs, hurrying to greet his brothers. "Alister! The most amazing thing happened at the Chemist! There was this ball, but it had lights inside, and it floated on its own! No strings or nothing! And the lady is kinda nice, too! Come see!"
With that, Steven hurried back to the Chemist shop.
Conrad followed, at a more measured pace. He could see that the woman, the Chemist, was sizing him up as he approached. He, in turn, looked her over with an appreciative eye. Pale skin, dark hair, and a pleasing figure barely covered in a thin robe. She positively vibrated with mystical energy that made the hairs on his neck stand on end. Conrad swallowed a sudden lump in his throat.
Conrad steeled his nerve, and set his jaw. His stride was confident, his manner bold. He strode to the Chemist shop, standing tall before the woman while Steven stared up at her adoringly.
"Evenin', ma'am," Conrad greeted the woman. Despite his efforts, his voice caught just the tiniest bit.
"Evening… Sheriff, is it?" she returned, eyes narrow.
Conrad flicked a finger against the silver star pinned to his chest. "Badge says so."
"Surprising, really," the woman continued in a conversational tone, "why a town would elect someone like you as their sheriff. Or should I say," one eyebrow arched delicately, "something like you?"
Conrad's spine tingled. He could feel her power, and it seemed she could sense his, too. He chose to let the insult pass.
Steven looked crestfallen at the tense exchange. He opened his mouth to defend his brother, but the woman spoke first.
"I take it these two are with you then?" she gestured to Steven and Samuel."
"All my life," Conrad answered, "or nearly so." The woman stepped back and leaned against her door, examining something on the door jam. The pose only highlighted her figure, which Conrad gallantly attempted to ignore. She was entrancing, this woman, and he found it difficult to look away.
"Miss, the boys didn't mean no harm. They were just--"
"Listen," she interrupted, turning her attention back to Conrad, "you can save yourself the speech. I know how this works.. been down this road a million times. This is your town… blah blah blah. You don’t like my kind around here… blah blah blah and I assure you I don’t like my kind being here either. I promise you, I will be getting my ass outta here as soon as I am physically able to do so."
She took a deep breath and looked out upon the sleeping town. "Problem is? You got some deep shit coming your way, Sheriff. Some deep, evil.. truly fucked up shit. It’s coming, sooner than you think and I want to be out of here when it hits. Just like you though, I got a job to do. Someone in this town needs something I have in my store. That’s all I know so it’s pointless asking me any questions about it. I don’t know who or what, otherwise I would be out of here already." She paused and looked back at the man who was standing on her stoop.
In spite of himself, and the woman's rapid-fire speech, a slow smile crept onto his lips, concealed in the dark. Her speech left little doubt in his mind what caliber of creature he was facing. He'd met a sorceress or two in his time.
"If you give a shit about this town, I can help the people out while I’m here though. There is a lot of evil already in this town. I can make a tonic for your townspeople that will protect them from this evil, for a while at least." She shrugged. "Up to you."
An interesting offer, one that Conrad planned to investigate further.
"What I will tell you though? This isn’t my only rodeo.. I have a life ya know? So I have STRICT business hours, alright? In the future, if that door is closed and that little sign--" she pointed to where it stood in her window, "--says CLOSED like it does now? Then I’m CLOSED. As in GONE. So don’t disturb me after work again." Her violet eyes turned darker, almost the colour of the sky above as she arched a brow at him. "We understand each other?"
"Well, ma'am, I believe I understand you just fine." Conrad's voice turned hard. "But I fear you don't understand me at all." He cocked his head to the side. "It seems to me that you aren't interested in learning, either. Your type rarely is."
"So I'll spare you the speech. Welcome to our town, blah blah blah. If you need anything, blah blah blah. Straight to the point: I'm glad you're here. I think we might be able to help each other."
"But don't you worry, I'll discuss that with you another time. During business hours." He touched a finger to his brow, smiling once more, and stepped down off the porch of the Chemist shop. "Sorry for the trouble, ma'am. Have a good night."
As the sheriff turned to leave, the woman suddenly stepped forward, a perfectly manicured hand thrust out in front. "Name is Caelyn Darkmoon by the way."
Conrad hesitated only a moment, but his mind raced back many years to a small cloister in a shady, verdant valley. There, in the library, had hung a great scroll, on which a tree of sorts was drawn. His instructor had explained that the scroll held the names of the Great Houses. Each house had many branches that held the names of lesser Houses, that were either spawned from, or sworn to, their parent house. He had studied and memorized each of the Great Houses, and as many of the minor houses as he could.
The name Darkmoon was there; one of the greatest, most powerful, most elite of the Great Houses. This woman, barely clothed and standing in the dusty street of a nowhere town, this Caelyn Darkmoon, was magic royalty.
Panic rose in the sheriff's chest, setting his heart to pounding. Conrad, like a damn fool, had insulted her. He took solace in the fact that she hadn't roasted him on the spot, or ground him to paste, or turned him inside out.
Conrad took the proffered hand. "And you are?" Caelyn asked.
Conrad made a small bow. "My name is Alister Conrad. Exorcist, demon hunter, and Sheriff of Deepdweller's Gulch." He smiled once more, taking in Caelyn's appearance again. "It's an honor to meet you."
He turned to leave her in peace, but stopped a moment and said over his shoulder, "Until tomorrow, ma'am." He cast one final look at Caelyn, feeling the waves of power that rolled off of her like an ocean tide. He set off down the street, shaking his head in wonder.
He had nearly reached his office when the cry of two voices split the night.
"Alister!"
Conrad swore under his breath. James and Silas burst out of the Saloon, pelting straight to him. "What is it, fellas?" he asked, voice low.
"Trouble in the Saloon." Silas reported. "Might want to take a look."
Conrad heaved a sigh. This night just kept getting better.
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Madame Tamassa
Wannabe
Owner of the Best little Whorehouse in Texas.. errr.. I mean Deepdwellers Gulch.
Posts: 31
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Post by Madame Tamassa on Jan 13, 2017 5:45:07 GMT -5
*High above the sleeping town , a pale moon shone like high noon as Caelyn got her first good look at the Sheriff of Deepdweller’s Gulch. First impressions were everything and this was definitely an important first meeting. She was acutely aware of the magical energy crackling around the pair as they came together on the stoop, though she doubted he could feel it. It had been a long time since she had been allowed to interact with anyone of her “station” as part of her probation so she was naturally curious by this man. She did notice his unease around her, something she was used to. Most men were intimidated by her without knowing who or what she really was. She could tell that Conrad sensed her power and it thrilled her to her inner core as she detected a similar power within him, laying dormant, ready to rise. Hey violet eyes swirled as she studied him while he spoke.
"Well, ma'am, I believe I understand you just fine." Conrad's voice turned hard. "But I fear you don't understand me at all." He cocked his head to the side. "It seems to me that you aren't interested in learning, either. Your type rarely is."
She blinked. ~My type? ~ She placed a hand on her hip as she took a step towards him. ~And what exactly is my ‘type’ ?~ Wisely, he chose to ignore her. "So I'll spare you the speech. Welcome to our town, blah blah blah. If you need anything, blah blah blah. Straight to the point: I'm glad you're here. I think we might be able to help each other." She arched a brow, but said nothing. Clouds raced across the sky and as she looked up, she noticed the sky was tinged with a hint of red.
"But don't you worry, I'll discuss that with you another time. During business hours." He touched a finger to his brow, smiling once more, and stepped down off the porch of the Chemist shop. "Sorry for the trouble, ma'am. Have a good night."
As the sheriff turned to leave, Caelyn suddenly stepped forward, a perfectly manicured hand thrust out in front. "Name is Caelyn Darkmoon by the way."
She nodded and allowed her smile to be tinged with a smirk of satisfaction as she noted his recognition of her name. He knew who she was – at least he knew who her family were and what they could do. It always saved so much time when people knew who she was. They immediately knew it was in their best interest to have her on their good side.
Conrad took the proffered hand. "And you are?" Caelyn asked.
Conrad made a small bow. "My name is Alister Conrad. Exorcist, demon hunter, and Sheriff of Deepdweller's Gulch." He smiled once more, taking in Caelyn's appearance again. "It's an honor to meet you." She nodded, and offered a mock curtsey in return for his bow. ~The honour is mine Mr Conrad. I look forward to seeing you again… in business hours.~
He turned to leave her in peace, but stopped a moment and said over his shoulder, "Until tomorrow, ma'am." He cast one final look at Caelyn, feeling the waves of power that rolled off of her like an ocean tide. He set off down the street, shaking his head in wonder. Caelyn stayed on the stoop, her arms crossed in front of her as she stared up at that strange sky. Movement on the street caught her attention and she looked down in time to see the Sheriff change his intended path.
As she watched the Sheriff walk away, headed in the direction of the jail, Caelyn saw a large red stretch of mist moving quickly down the street towards the Sheriff. He was beaten by a quick, green energy that seemed to be racing his brother in glee. She heard them yelling out that there was trouble in the Saloon. The sheriff seemed intent on going to the Saloon just as the source of his sudden attention stumbled onto the dirty road in front of her. Unable to help herself, Caelyn leaned over the railing and called out ~ Interesting town you got here Sheriff!~ as Steven settled down beside her. Looking down at the sweet, purple mist she saw that he was rubbing up between her ankles like a cat. ~Hey..~ she called down, standing up and opening the door. The orb that he had chosen earlier, rose once more and made its way back to Caelyn’s hand as she stood outside. It glowed a deep purple and seemed to pulsate as it grew near the precious spirit child. ~I believe this belongs to you. ~ She smiled, before leaning back on the railing of the veranda to watch the show begin. ~Look’s like that brother of yours is in for an interesting night..~
(Ten minutes earlier..) *Standing in the doorway of the lounge, Patti's face sank when she saw the pale, dead boy on the bed. Her jaw clicked as she opened her mouth to ask an obvious question, but she thought better of it immediately. Still, her face betrayed her disappointment in her sire. Tamassa met Patti’s glare as she walked into the main lounge and saw the poor, dead boy that used to be Geoffrey. ~Don’t look at me like that Pat..~ she growled. ~It aint my fault..~ She shrugged and walked back over so that she was standing beside the bed, poking the body with her finger. ~I got distracted… fucking Conrad’s fault!~
Turning back to Tamassa, Patti chewed her bottom lip. "Whatchoo wan' me t'do, Madame?" she asked expectantly.
~Help me get him out of here, obviously!~ she snapped, instantly regretting it. She knew that Patti was her only ally and in a situation such as this, she needed all the friends she could get. Grimacing, she murmured ~..sorry..~ under her breath. It wasn’t much of an apology for normal people but considering the fact that Madame Tamassa never apologised for anything, Patti should appreciate it for the rare token that it was. Swallowing her disappointment, Pattilia moved to the bedside and began folding the covers over the naked young man and rolling him up.
There’s only a few patrons down stairs.. ~Tamassa spoke rapidly, thinking out loud. ~ I can distract them while you carry him downstairs. I’ll meet you at the front door and we will take him right out the front. Nobody is out in the street this time of night.. we should be fine. ~ Without waiting for a response, Tamassa hurried to the busted door and held it open to allow Patti to move through, with wrapped up corpse over her shoulder. Bustling down the hall to the top of the staircarse, she floated down the top three before stopping and moving over to the left to allow Patti to pass. Many moons ago Tamassa had worked with a Siren. She had learnt a lot from the strange woman who was able to lull me to sleep with a simple song and after she had fed on the woman after a particularly violent argument, Tamassa had found that she had recovered a small flicker of this handy ability. Although she needed more practice to hold a note for more than a few minutes, tonight it was all the time she needed and as she opened her mouth to emit the first, perfect note Tamassa waved Patti forward and down the stairs. As she sang, Tamassa watched as one by the one, the few patrons of the saloon started drifting off, their heads lolling on the necks as she stepped down one more step and then another. By the time she was running out of breath, Patti had reached the front door and Tamassa cut the last note off abrubtly, ignoring Freddy who was waking up and asking what was going on. ~Just doing some laundry…~ she called back to Freddy, reaching up to grab ahold of the body, easing it off Patii’s shoulders. Taking Geoffrey’s feet while Patti held on under his arms, Tamassa muttered through gritted teeth. ~There’s a huge hole up near the back of the mine entrance.. just opened up after the quake. I think we should just throw him in there.. nobody will find..~ she trailed off as she looked up and met the icy stare of Sheriff Conrad who was making his way towards her. ~Oh you have got to be shitting me!~ she spat, dropping poor Geoffrey’s feet so that if Patti dropped her end, he would fall to the dusty road. Meeting Conrad's gaze, she shrugged. ~ Reminds me of how we first met..~ her attention drifted across the road to the witch who was wearing nothing but a robe and hollering out to the Conrad like they were new best friends. Glancing over at Patti, Tamassa looked at her with a WTF look on her face as the clouds above began to churn and thunder rolled in the distance.
Sorry was rushed at the end.. hope it makes sense.. if not Ill edit it tomorrow x
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Post by Clover Stardust on Jan 13, 2017 14:27:53 GMT -5
Clover stomped down the stairs, her handed rested protectively on the butt of one of her pistols. She heard Tamassa call out to Patti and sighed sadly. She was under no illusion that Patti and Clover were the very best of friends. But they were friends none the less and she couldn't help but feel like she just lost one. All her friends had died in the quake, Pattillia included.
'Slavery don't look good on you Patti' she said quietly. Clover winked at Freddy taking a bottle of whisky from behind the counter she took a deep swig. 'The Madame said I could have a drink was on her'. She said meaning to leave the Saloon. The whisky warmed her inside pleasantly. She stopped on the balcony enjoying the crisp nighttime air. The Sheriff was talking to Caelyn across the road. Clover suddenly felt very alone, he was probably the closest thing she had to a father, her own father had died whilst she was 'away'. Clover reached into her pocket and took out the small bottle Caelyn had gifted her. She turned for away for a second to look at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar, still fractured, the antlers still magnificent and glowing. She felt a pang of guilt for running out on Caelyn and insulting her. She uncorked the bottle, this time she was careful. She took a drop of the tonic. There wasn't much left. She breathed deeply into the magic, felt it worked through her body like the whisky she'd just drank. Blinking slowly, almost drunk. She could see that the Sheriff and Caelyn weren't alone after all.
'Virgil?' She asked quietly. 'I've seen you in my dreams'. He was awfully handsome, she thought to herself, for a blue ghost at least. Clover was talking to herself more than Virgil, she wondered if he'd notice her. She could feel the pulse on The Sight, in her head she was developing a headache now and her vision blurred. There were two other spirits moving towards her, or the Saloon at least. She'd never seen so many surrounding the Sheriff before. He crossed the road towards her, at the same time as Tamassa and Patti moved past her, carrying something.
'Is that Geoffrey!?' She asked.
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Post by diandramoon on Jan 14, 2017 6:41:04 GMT -5
DressedBlond curls bounced, cascading down from where she had piled them on the top of her head after her bath. The wagon was parked, waiting for her to find a place to deposit its goods, the horses watering themselves at a trough. Town would probably be better than the cave she had been keeping them in, but stupid idiot males had decided to do something stupid, and it had required her cavernous home to become bloody, and soon filled with the scent of bloating man-meat. Besides, the recent earthquake had made cavern living a little more hazardous to her health than she liked. Goodbye hideout. Her time as a bandit was done, for now. She didn’t feel like starting a new gang, and if she were honest, she’d grown bored with the life of an outlaw. It happened. She’d been an outlaw in Australia for a while, but then had grown bored there, as well. Whore-Lady-Wife-Something new-bandit-boredom-over-and-over. It was a vicious cycle the blue-eyed woman would be stuck in for who knew how long? She walked along the busy street, dust blowing up from the packed earth road. It was one of the few things she missed about civilized society…Paved roads, and a lack of need to beat the dirt from one’s clothing on a regular basis. Still, one was afforded more anonymity, and privacy when one came so far from the places that were once called home. She listened from a distance as people awed over a strange shop. From what she could gather, the shop had only recently appeared. She found that an odd way of saying things. The parasol in her hand was twirled as she her burdened hips cocked, leaning against a post as she looked with a passively curious gaze to what everyone seemed so enamored with. Still, she grew bored listening as the little people hurried on, as if something would jump out of the shop, and grab them to swallow them whole if they lingered too long. There was a noise behind her that caused her to draw her pistol, and jam it right between the male’s legs who came up behind her. “ Un monsieur annonce sa présence." She cocked the gun to make sure he understood. “ Ils ne se faufileront pas sur une dame comme un cochon. " It was such a simple thing, falling back to her native tongue. " Sorry, ma’am. Thought you were one of the working girls." " Even so, you do no’ come upon a lady wizout announcing yourself. Eet could be ‘azardous to your ‘ealt." Years of travel had caused her accent to be burdened with many dialects, and inflections. She rarely cared anymore. " Shoo!" She un-cocked the gun, and slipped it back into the holster at her hip. At least the interaction had taught her something important. This place boasted a whorehouse, at least. She’d have to look into that. She turned, and watched the man stumble into a building. Must have been the place for the working girls he had mistaken her for. She snapped the fan open, and continued to lean against the post, glancing up, and down the street as she decided what she might do next. Translations: "A gentleman announces his presence.” "They do not sneak up on a lady like a pig."
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Post by Plot Puppets on Jan 15, 2017 9:45:25 GMT -5
The stars shown down from the cold night sky like the watchful eyes of a thousand predatory beasts. The moon was nearing fullness, and showed brilliant white, unperturbed by the wisps of cloud scudding across the sky. The mountains were jagged silhouettes in the starry night, but their natural perfection was marred by the ugly outline of the massive, jagged tower thrusting like a barbed lance into the night's blue belly.
A lone figure stood staring into the night, the tower's black silhouette splitting the moon like a cat's eye. A long scarf waved in the breeze, beneath a flat topped hat pulled low above a skull's rictus grin. The short jacket brushed the tops of its revolvers, custom handles with snarling demonic faces on their butts. The figure stamped it's foot, and a spur jingled in the still air. It stamped once more, and the ground shook. The earth split beneath it's heel, sending a crack shooting along the ground. The crack split wide, black smoke and green flames belching forth from its depth.
Out of the smoke and flames leapt a beast of bones and decaying viscera. It vaulted high into the air, landing on nimble feet to circle and prowl with feline grace. Red light shone from the eye sockets of a heavy, long-toothed skull. The body was heavy, bear-like, with a long barbed tail. Bits and strips of rotting flesh clung to its skeletal frame, dropping bits that sizzled and smoked as they hit the ground and staining the earth black.
The beast circled round the creature that summoned it, emitting a sound that resembled purring laughter. The summoner put one skeletal hand on the beast's neck and leapt upon its back in a single motion. The beast roared as it reared up on hind legs, massive claws rending the night air, then leapt into a graceful lope that belied its awkward frame. Each step left smoking paw prints on the ground, and the air was filed with the scent of burning flesh as they passed.
As the beast and its rider traveled, death came in their passing. Brush and cacti turned black and began to rot. Sleeping animals died in their dens and warrens, while nocturnal fauna perished where they stood. Silence and stench were their wake.
For miles, the pair rode through the desert night, before finally reaching the foot of a steep redstone peak. The skeletal beast scaled the stone as easily as it had run along the desert sand. The strange rider spurred it on, heels drawing sparks as they scraped over bony ribs. They ascended with speed, and quickly reached a rocky ledge near the apex, where the rider stopped it's mount with a tug on its thick spine.
Far in the distance far below, the town of Deepdweller's Gulch lay nestled in its rocky cradle, dark but for a few lanterns and candles. The rider turned its gaze back the way it had come, to the tower that did not yet exist in the same world as the sleeping town below. One skeletal hand reached up into the night, framed by the looming moon, and clenched a bony fist. The rider and mount howled and writhed, and the great beast leaped from its perch, charging down the side of the red mountain. Each step brought change to the pair, sticky strands of flesh and ropy viscera forming and wrapping around their skeletal bodies. They contorted and warped as bone was covered by muscle and sinew, then wrapped in flesh.
As the pair reached the bottom, the beast was wrapped in thick muscle and covered in short white hair, with mane and tale as bright as freshly fallen snow. Steel shod hooves replaced bony claws and rang as they pounded over red stone, the fanged skull now long and equine. It neighed and snorted smoke from its nostrils, black eyes rolling.
The rider was also transformed. The skeletal frame was covered by thick muscle and smooth, tanned skin. Blonde curls peeked from beneath its hat, above brilliant green eyes that sparkled in the moonlight. A thin, straight nose hung above full lips that bracketed a smiling mouth full of straight white teeth. A thin growth of blonde stubble covered a strong chin and square jaw.
The rider now threw his head back and released a cry into the night, "Yee-haw!" and spurred his stallion toward the town.
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Post by Pattilia Longfellow on Jan 15, 2017 16:32:06 GMT -5
- ~Help me get him out of here, obviously!~ snapped Tamassa, instantly regretting it. Grimacing, she murmured, ~..sorry..~
Pattilia flinched at Tamassa's anger. Of all the people in the Gulch, the saloon's madame was the only one she truly feared anymore, and even then it was only born out of a heaping dose of respect. She had to do a small double-take, though, to make sure she heard that apology right. Of all the things for her sire to say... That's when she knew the Madame was in a real state.
She finished wrapping the young man's body in bedding and hoisted the bundle easily over her shoulder. She didn't really need Tamassa's help, but when she heard the plan, Patti's jaw dropped open once again.
"Take him out da frownt? Are you outta yer...?" Pattilia trailed off as Tamassa abruptly held open the door, silencing any further protests. Patti blinked in shock as she moved through, brows pinched in worry, but she figured the madame must have some semblance of a plan. Still, the situation with Clover hadn't actually been diffused, more likely just delayed, and she wasn't sure if the gunslinger woman was still around. Patti had a bad feeling about this, regardless of Tamassa's assurances.
Carrying the wrapped body into the hall, Patti looked over the railing to see that several of the patrons had already left. The poker game was well over since the mood in the saloon had shifted so abruptly. Patti was sure she might get an earful from the madame later about ruining the atmosphere and driving away clients, but unless Tamassa had a plan, hauling a dead body through the main bar area was only going to make it worse...
The woman with red dreadlocks was surprised to learn Tamassa had an impressive hidden talent. Descending the stairs very carefully, Patti watched every man slowly slump and nod off one by one. She wasn't entirely sure why the singing didn't affect her, but she assumed it was because she was now supernatural... And that explanation was starting to fit the puzzle of why Clover hadn't fallen under her influence.
Patti gave Freddy a winning smile over her shoulder as she and Tamassa headed through the main doors, shifting the body's weight around as she gripped the bundle at one end. Not that she needed the help, carrying the young man's corpse hadn't been difficult. As her sire started going on about a hole in the mine, though, Patti was beginning to believe Tamassa's didn't really have all the answers, and the thud of Geoffrey's dead feet on the street only compounded that belief.
Green eyes slowly slid shut and her brow tweaked as Patti felt her anger starting to return. She wasn't going to drop the body at first, ready to take it back over her shoulder and try to keep up the ruse, but Tamassa at least knew that it wasn't going to work on the Sheriff, and that was probably for the best.
That voice cut the last thread of Patti's sanity, and the bundled body thumped on the ground. A fiery glare narrowed in on Clover as Patti started stalking towards the petite woman, teeth gnashing.
"Shut up, Clover! Just shut da fuck up! Stop runnin' yer god-damned mouth fer once, y'fuckin' blabber-mouthy bitch! You can't ever keep yer fuckin' trap shut fer even a few fuckin minutes - always gotta be dah cen'ah of attenshun, cuttin' off any conversashun, fuckin' in'rruptin' everythin' like yer dah got-damned Queen of dah Gulch! I tried bein' yer friend, but bein' yer friend means never gettin' a word in edgewise an' just listenin' tah yah chatter on 'bout any ol' stupid-ass thang that pops in yer head! People ain't yer friends, we're yer fuckin' audience, an' you can' fuckin' get enough of it." Heedless of the threat of silver-bullet pistols or any supernatural gifts Clover might posses, Patti's arm came up, pointing furiously. "Y'know what? Fuck you, Clover! Just, Fuck You."
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Post by Blood and Roses on Jan 15, 2017 18:12:54 GMT -5
***The following is a transcript from an RP chat***
Conrad's lips set in a grim frown as he stalked down the street. He halted 20 yards from the Madame and her enforcer. White hot spark flickered in the depths of his eyes, but his voice was cool as night breeze. "Tamassa." He glanced from the Madame to the sheet-wrapped corpse. "There something you wanna tell me?"
Tamassa grimaced inwardly as the sound of her name on his lips caused an involuntary reaction deep within her. Tossing her dark hair over one shoulder, she cast one last glance at Patti before squaring off against the Sheriff. She shrugged as his eyes rested on the sheet-wrapped bundle now lying on the dusty street between them. Tamassa moved her head and glared pointedly at Caelyn who was lounging on the stoop of her shop wearing nothing but a robe. Deciding the best defense was a good offense, Tamassa put one hand on her hip as the other pointed at Caelyn. ~Is there something YOU want to tell ME?! ~ she hissed, dark eyes flashing
Conrad's eyebrow raised a fraction of an inch, but no other sign of his confusion showed on his stone-hard face.
"Hoo-hoo! Lookit that!" Silas jeered. "The Madame is sweet on ya, Alister!" James cracked. The two ghosts fell against each other laughing.
"If you have any questions about my business as sheriff," Conrad grated, "we can discuss them in my office. But right now," he gestured toward the wrapped bundle, "we're talking about YOUR business."
*She arched a brow as his tone betrayed his irritation at her half assed attempt to steer the conversation somewhere less dangerous for herself. Still, she persisted. ~oh so you're telling me that you cavorting around town and visiting women at all hours is strictly your business as Sheriff?!~ she ran a shaking hand through her dark mane, trying to calm herself down. She half hoped that while she distracted Conrad, Patti would disappear into the night with poor Geoffrey in tow so that Tamassa could deny there ever was a body. But although Patti took her cue to drift away, she merely moved a few feet away to talk to Clover on the porch of the Saloon. Tamassa risked a glance at Conrad before shrugging and examining her nails. ~Of course I don't give a flying fuck what or who you do.. just.. ~ her voice dropped. ~ You ditched me.. said you were too busy to talk but I see you found the time to "talk" to Cat Wilson and that slut over there in the robe..~*
"A woman scorned," spoke Walter. "Tread lightly, boy."
"My business as sheriff doesn't end at sundown, Madame." Conrad's eyes narrowed. "Nor does my territory end at the front door of any business or home in Deepdweller's Gulch."
As Conrad opened his jacket, the silver badge on his breast shined in the moonlight. He drew fourth a cigar and clenched it in his teeth.
"When I came to you, I did so in what precious little spare time I have. For personal reasons. But you fed drinks to Cat Wilson until she fell down drunk. I did my duty as sheriff in seeing get home safe. I cleaned up your mess. Again. "
"Smooth," droned Virgil.
Unable to stop herself, she reeled when he called her Madame. Here she was in a right state over this pig of a man and he couldn't even use her name. She arched a brow when he spoke of getting Cat drunk. ~I didn't get the stupid bitch loaded. Freddy is the bar tender and he was just giving a patron what she ordered. Not my problem she can't handle her liquor. I'm sure you just loved playing the white knight and seeing the poor damsel home safely.. even tucked her up in bed safe and sound I bet. Such a hero! ~ she stepped over the sheet covered corpse, moving closer to him and further away from where Patti and Clover were in heated discussion. When she spoke again, she seemed to have lost some of her puff. ~Don't forget I've cleaned up your mess before. So don't stand there and act all high and mighty just cause I got a dead man at my feet. Its your fault anyways!~ Her mouth snapped shut before she said anything else to further incriminate herself*
"I did what good men do." The match flared and the cigar burned. "You did what monsters do." A meaningful glance at the corpse. "So you can blame me if you like, but feelings ain't facts. And the facts is," smoke poured from his mouth and nose, "you broke a rule."
"This town is dying, Tamassa." Conrad's voice almost softened. "Ain't many folks left around here. They notice when one of em dies." His head dipped, and his voice turned hard once more. "Who is that?"
She flinched visibly when he referred to as a Monster and she knew in that moment that her tortuous feelings for this man were completely one sided. Inwardly cursing herself for falling for a man who thought of her as nothing more than a monster, Tamassa seemed to sag as all the fight went out of her. Determined not to let him know how much he had hurt her, she shrugged and glanced back at the sheet now stained a deep red from the dust on the road on which it lay when he asked who it was. ~Some kid.. Geoffrey something. Your friend Clover knew him. ~ Dark eyes searched the night sky above for anything to focus on apart from Conrad's handsome face. ~I was gonna get rid of the body before anyone noticed..~she shrugged, unable to shake off the hurt. ~But since I'm just a fucking monster and you seem so keen to clean up my messes, why don't you clean up this one then, hmm??~ she continued stepping forward until she was right beside him and then kept walking right past him. Calling out over her shoulder in Patti's general direction, Tamassa cast a cool glance at the Sherrif as she passed. ~I'm going for a walk if anyone's interested! Like good monsters do! ~* ~Dont worry Pat.. the good Sheriff here is going to take care of poor old Geoffrey!~*
Conrad ground his teeth, and the sparks in his eyes flared, casting their own light.
"Now ya done it." Walter shook his head, and leaned against the saloon wall.
"Sorry, but we ain't done yet." Conrad pulled the jacket back behind the butt of his revolver. "You can't just drop a body in the street and walk away. Any minute now, people are gonna see this. A corpse, wrapped in your sheets. And you, out for a stroll. What do you think my job is, then?"
"Stay level, Alister," James said quietly.
"I couldn't never draw on you, Tamassa," he said, " But if the folks around here don't think I'll kill you, they'll do it themselves."
"You already got your freebie for today. Clean up your own mess."
He turned his back. "Guess this is my own fault, for trusting you." His voice cracked, just a hair. "Thinking that maybe... Maybe you were..." Conrad shook his head.
Facing away from him, she blinked back hot, angry tears. Screaming at herself inside her tormented mind for even caring what he thought of her, she reached up to quickly wipe away the tears he couldn't see. She turned back in time to see him flash his gun and threaten the wrath of the town if she didn't take care of her own mess. ~Fine! ~ she hissed, turning around and stalking back to the body. Ignoring Patti's offer to help, Tamassa stooped and picked up poor Geoffrey, throwing the sheet covered corpse over her shoulder just as the Sherrif turned his back on her. His words cut her to the core and she stood in silence for a moment, her mouth hanging open before she snapped it shut so quickly it hurt her jaw. When she spoke, it was barely a whisper but his words evoked her emotions. ~Fuck you..~ she turned on her heel and stalked away from him and the saloon, poor Geoffrey bouncing like a sack over her shoulder.*
Conrad turned as Patti raised her voice to rail at Clover, and cast a quick glance between them. Normally, he would intervene and meditate such a dispute. But this crowd was bound to draw attention, and he had dirty work to do.
The lantern shone from its post on the wagon. Conrad clicked his tongue and slowed the horse as he pulled alongside Tamassa. The wagon bounced once, then rolled smoothly along, matching her pace. "May I offer the lady and her companion a ride?" the sheriff's asked politely."This is a long stretch of road, and mighty dark."
She was so consumed by her inner rage that she failed to notice the horses and wagon coming up behind her until the wagon was right beside her. Blinking in surprise, her eyes narrowed as she realised it was the Sherrif at the reigns. She baulked, laughing bitterly as he offered the "lady" a ride. Shifting the dead weight of Geoffrey onto her other shoulder, she straightened her back as she continued to stalk towards the mine. ~Sorry.. aint no ladies around here Sherif! Just us monsters..~ The sheet began to slide on her shoulder and she hoisted it up again, eying the back of the empty wagon. The idea of dumping her burden was too tempting given the shitty night she was having. With a sigh she dumped poor Geoffrey into the back of the wagon without a word and continued walking alongside the wagon. ~oh don't worry about me Sherrif.. the only scary thing out in the dark tonight is me.~ Her feet were beginning to ache but she was loathe to accept his offer of a ride and continued walking beside him, ignoring the faint limp she was developing thanks to a stone in her left boot *
"Tamassa," his voice was strained, "I never called you a monster. Did I?" The lantern swayed as the wagon rolled over a hole. "You did do as monsters do. I never even considered you capable of this," Conrad said, gazing back at the corpse. The sheet had fallen away from Geoffrey's youthful face. "Until tonight."
"So, if I was wrong, and you are a monster," the first trace of hurt crept into his voice, "then I'm sorry for burdening you with my trust. But if you're not..." He cleared his throat, "then I'm sorry if you mistook me. But please. Ride with me a piece."
His words rang with truth and she found herself trying to think back to their previous exchange as she limped beside the wagon. True.. he hadn't exactly called her a monster.. just referred to her actions. Sighing, she rubbed her temple and mumbled ~fine~ as she jumped up and settled beside him on the seat. Tiredness washed over her and she marvelled at how exhausting her interactions with Conrad had been tonight. She followed his gaze and looked back at poor Geoffrey. ~I know you won't believe it.. but it was an accident.~ her eyes focused on the millions of stars above their heads as the wagon rattled down the dirt road out of town. ~I was following the rules... your rules. He consented and I was just feeding... and I got distracted...~*
"And I got busy," Conrad said with a tired sigh. "Something's happening, here, Tamassa. With the Gulch." His voice was almost a whisper. "With me."
"I can't explain it yet," he said. "But it's big. And it isn't good. And I intend to find out what it is."
"And for your information," the sheriff smiled slightly, "the woman in the robe can help me with that. And she might be the only one who can help me with the Gulch. And you," he said, nudging her gently, "May be the only one who can help me with me."
*She watched him in silence from the corner of her eye, nodding as he told her something was happening in the Gulch..and with him. ~Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?~ she asked ~Before you got "busy"?~ She bristled again as he told her the witch in the robe might be the only one to help him with the Gulch but she thawed when he nudged her gently, trying to ignore the way she felt when his body touched hers. Clearing her throat, she turned her head and looked out over the surrounding mountains, lost in thought. They rode in a comfortable silence before she spoke. ~I.. lost my shit back there.. I.. I was wrong.~ she turned and her eyes met his. When she spoke next, her words were a tumble. ~its just... you drive me crazy!! I thought.. after our last meeting that. . I don't know.. we had a connection? I.. don't normally do the whole "feeling" thing.. but thats what you do... you make me feel..~ She straightened her back as her hand reached out to squeeze his thigh before leaving her hand to rest on his leg. ~ I don't know how I can help. .. but I will. Just know... this is all new to me. I'll try not to fuck up again but I can't guarantee I won't.~*
Conrad sat in silence as Tamassa made her confession. Each word was a needle, stinging his heart with their torment. He couldn't deny the spark that passed between them when they met, a forbidden attraction that was both intoxicating and deadly.
He felt a cold stirring in his breast. Dark, erotic images poured into his mind, foreign thoughts not his own, and a massive, alien consciousness slithered against his own. The demon within him was responding to his thoughts of Tamassa, and whispered vile taboos that made his flesh crawl.
He tried to banish the thoughts, but Tamassa's hand on his thigh only intensified the struggle. Carnal urges prompted the first stirrings of physical response. Conrad's face flushed, and he was glad that the orange glow of the lantern would disguise it.
Desperate for a distraction, he pointed up the dark road. "Look," he said. "It's just up ahead."
"So let me get this straight," said Geoffrey, vexed. The ghost of the farm boy was seated on his corpse's chest. "I'm dead, because the head tart at the saloon got all worked up over the sheriff?" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the man driving the wagon.
The six Conrad brothers, seated on the wagon to either side, all nodded. "Yep, sounds like," Samuel chimed.
"So, if ol' Silver Star had just taken a minute to straighten her out good 'n proper, I'd still be breathing?" Geoffrey was incredulous.
"Probably," droned Virgil.
"What the Hell, man!?" Geoffrey turned to shout at Conrad. "Why didn't ya just give it to her!?"
"That ain't his way," rumbled Walter.
"God knows why," muttered Silas. "Look at her."
"An' it takes 'im more 'n a minute," chuckled James.
"God knows why!" repeated Silas.
"Never took you more'n a minute," Walter said with a grin.
The laughter of the Conrad brothers echoed across the moonlit desert night.
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Post by Clover Stardust on Jan 16, 2017 1:00:08 GMT -5
*Rushed! Hope it's cool!*
Clover didn’t have to ask, not really, she knew who was wrapped in the sheet. Her heart gave a pang or regret. Geoffrey was alive when she kicked her way in. Geoffrey’s poor mamma was all that was left of the family after the quake, she was a good woman, and she wouldn’t survive the news. Clover could see it in her mind’s eye. The Sheriff sat down, she would wail and curse and spit on the ground, formulate a plan while allowing the Sheriff to console her. She’d wait till he was gone, take a cart up the mountains and hang herself good and proper.
Clover shook her head, coming back to reality, just when Patti was squaring off against her. She folded her arms. Her fingertips tingled, ready to reach her revolvers if she had to, was she quick enough? Probably not. After listening to her ‘friends’ tirade, she was almost ready to find out.
‘Your right Patti, I talk too much. My mamma said so, my daddy said so, even Uncle James said so, and he only visited once a year’. She said, her heart was beating too fast in her chest. She wasn’t sure if she should hug her shoot her right in her stupid face.
‘I learnt real quick to keep my trap shut after my mamma sent me away when my daddy died I made the mistake of talking too much my Daddy, he told me things, things about my Mama and uncle James…You know what they did to me in that hospital? I don’t reckon you care much. I ain't spoke to another soul for four years in that place, not a single person’.
Clover tried to keep an eye on Tamassa and the Sheriff at the same time, she knew the Sheriff could take care of himself, more likely than not he’d make sure Clover stayed safe. But it wasn’t long before Tamassa left and the Sheriff went chasing after her along with his brothers.
Clover sat down hard on the deck outside the Saloon. She sighed sadly. She was alone.
‘I’m sorry if I wasn’t a good friend to you Patti, I know I talk too much, I was just so happy to live in a town where I wasn’t the strangest thing, you ever spent time with bank robbers? Most of em’ are awful stupid’. Clover gave Caelyn a weak wave from across the road.
‘I live in a cave Patti, you think I couldn’t easily mosey on down to the next town and live comfortable like, I ain't stupid. If you want me to leave, if it’ll make your life easier I’ll do it or if you still want to fight to the death, I’ll do that too’.
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Post by Pattilia Longfellow on Jan 16, 2017 9:54:36 GMT -5
It was hard to keep a raging tempest roaring when there weren't any sails to fill, and Clover had dropped hard enough to the deck she may as well have sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Patti wanted a fight, she wanted the catharsis of cutting loose and ripping through flesh, rending tissue from bone and then snapping bones from their joints to toss them in a neat pile. But she wanted to fight against something, not rip into a limp, crumpled heap of a woman. She wanted anyone to give her the satisfaction of a bloody, knock-down, drag-out brawl, to pound a physical manifestation of all her problems into a pulp. Every muscle in her body cried out, begging to be used to destroy the next living thing that dared challenge her.
But, the fight had gone out of Clover, and Patti could only snarl at the mess she'd created on the saloon's porch - not even laid a hand on her, and Clover was worthless. Patti's heart didn't beat, but her chest still heaved with huge, sucking breaths. Her pointing finger turned to a fist, her arm raising higher as the bloodlust crept down her spine, but there wasn't any point. Barely, Clover's words slowly registered in Patti's brain, floating on the edge of her mind. Fury had given her tunnel vision, but with the last bits of fight fading from Clover's reply, Patti couldn't keep it up any longer, and the fist dropped to her side, still clenched, but shaking.
It was now, as her senses returned, Patti was acutely aware of her surroundings. Tamassa and the Sheriff had disappeared at some point, the chemist was standing across the street in her robe, a stranger watched from the shadows, and numerous faces were peering through the saloon windows. Green eyes slid over all of them, one by one, and if it were possible, heat would have risen to her cheeks and she felt she might burst into flames.
Shoulders hunching, Patti cursed under her breath as she took a step back, "Fuck." Giving the broken chatterbox another once-over, she grimaced and nearly spat as she announced to the public at large, "Whatever. I'm goin' fer a walk."
Hands stuffed into her pants pockets, the heel of her boot grit through the dirt on the porch as she turned around and marched into the street, going the opposite direction as Tamassa and the Sheriff. She cast another glance to Caelyn, but continued on, brushing past the woman hiding behind a fan as her spurs jingled into the moonlit night.
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Post by Blood and Roses on Jan 16, 2017 18:33:12 GMT -5
***The following is a transcript from an RP chat***
*She sat on tender hooks, waiting for his response after she poured out her heart to him. Would he rebuke her words? Would he declare his own feelings for her? No, he was going to tell her they were nearly at their destination. No acknowledgement of her words at all. She looked at him incredulously for a moment before muttering ~great~ under her breath. Clearly Conrad wasn't one for big speeches about feelings and such which was fine, since either was Tamassa. She had merely tried to explain why she had acted so crazily, revealing her feelings for him in the process. Sighing, she ran a hand through her dark mane, removing her hand from his thigh. ~If you head towards the west of the entrance of the mine there's a huge chasm opened up. I was thinking of throwing the body down there... ~she glanced back at the sheet wrapped corpse. ~maybe... we could say he's off exploring the world and becoming a man. Might be easier for a mother to accept?~*
Conrad guided the wagon as directed, bouncing and swaying through the ruts and furrows on the path to the mine. He didn't see the hole, but turned the horse west and slowed to a walk.
He wanted to speak, but words failed him. How could he explain the impending evil trapped within him? How could he articulate the terrible darkness, the alien desires that burned into him until he was unsure where he ended and the beast began? The confidence he'd had before had fled, and taken with it his words.
The nearer they came to the mine, the more the presence in his mind expanded. It stretched and flexed, pushing against its boundaries. It was mighty, and its voice slithered into his mind:
Set me free.
Conrad bit his lip hard, desperate for something to focus on. Tamassa thankfully raised the subject of Geoffrey again.
"Might work. Maybe tell her he's gone to join the army." Conrad clenched his fists until his nails dug bloody crescents into his palms, until the demon finally withdrew.
He pulled the wagon to a halt and hopped down off the driver's seat. Offering a hand to Tamassa, he said, "Best leave the wagon here. Wouldn't do for the horse to turn an ankle." He helped Tamassa down from the seat, and together they moved the body out of the back of the wagon.
The corpse's skull struck heavily against a large wagon wheel. "Easy with the merchandise!" exclaimed Geoffrey.
"What for?" asked Walter. "You won't be using it."
Geoffrey's jaw worked silently a moment before he managed to blurt out, "How bout respect for the dead!?"
"Where you suppose that'll getcha?" The gruff shade returned. "
"If you didn't like that," Virgil added, "you're really gonna hate what comes next."
The sheriff and the madame carried the farm boy's body to the spot Tamassa had promised. Sure enough, a great gaping maw had opened in the earth, yawning down into darkness for God knew how far.
The pounding ache in Conrad's skull receded, and the dire, alien consciousness fell silent. He sighed in relief, grateful that his mind was his own again, but even then he could feel the demon lurking just beyond the borders. Watching. Waiting.
They dropped the body onto the dirt beside the chasm, and Conrad performed a benediction. The sheriff clutched a hand to his revolver as he recited the prayers, automatic motions and words memorized from long years as a man of faith. The recitation of the prayers was comfortable, like an old glove that retained its shape, and he allowed his mind to fall into that familiar pattern of words and gestures. The faith was gone, but the memory remained.
"You're lucky," Samuel whispered to Geoffrey. "He's severing the ties that bind you to your body. You can leave, now."
His ritual performed and his duty to the boy complete, Conrad unceremoniously shoved the corpse with his foot, and Geoffrey's corpse rolled into the dark pit. It slammed hard against the side, then vanished beyond the lantern's light.
From far below the earth, a low rumble issued up from the hole, a bass growl so deep it was felt more than heard. The rumble was echoed in the depths of Conrad's soul, and for half a moment, the sheriff was frozen, the blood in his veins turned to ice. The demon roared, and its presence filled his mind, crushing his consciousness beneath its massive weight. His thoughts were swept away in a torrent of rage and triumph.
Conrad fell to one knee, clutching both hands to his head as though he was trying to keep it from splitting open. He snarled like a beast, shaking violently, and then--
--the spell passed. Slowly, his hands lowered, and Conrad stood tall once more. He paused a moment, getting his bearings, then turned to face his companion.
"Tamassa," he spoke her name, and his icy blue eyes met hers. He stepped closer, closer, his body mere inches from hers.
*Accepting the offered hand, Tamassa climbed doen from the wagon. Her own hand seemed to be on fire when he let it go and moved to grab Geoffrey’s body and she took a minute to examine her hand before joining him. How did he have such an effect on her?! She followed as Conrad walked over to the chasm she had indicated and watched as he dropped the body onto the dirt beside it. She was just about to use her boot to kick the corpse into the deep hole when Conrad started performing some ritual. Intrigued, she watched as he delivered Geoffrey his last rites. It was a solemn moment before Conrad himself kicked the body so that it rolled into the dark pit. ~That was beautiful.. ~she said to Conrad. Almost instantly, a loud rumble could be heard and felt under their feet. She reached out to Conrad in an attempt to steady them both when Conrad fell to one knee, clutching both hands to his head. The agony was etched all over his handsome face as Tamassa watched him as he started to snarl and shake uncontrollably. ~Are you... alright?!~ her voice was a shaking whisper as she stepped closer to him, desperate to help but unsure how. Just then, whatever had overcome him seemed to abate as he lowered his hands and stood tall once more. She watched with wide eyes as he seemed to take a minute to get his bearings before turning to her. His icy blue eyes caused the breath she had just taken to catch in her throat and she felt as if all of time and space had come to a complete stop when he said her name. ~What WAS that?! ~ she asked, taking his hand in hers. ~Is something... wrong.. with you??! Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?~ she sensed that he was struggling to say what clearly needed to be said. Squeezing his hand tightly in hers, she whispered. ~You can tell me... you can tell me anything m'love..~*
His eyes bespoke longing, of an ache that intensified with each passing heartbeat. His hand tightened on hers, his skin was feverish, aflame. "What I need," he whispered, his voice husky. Conrad suddenly pulled Tamassa's hand behind him, tight against his back, bringing her close. His other hand circled Tamassa's waist and pressed her body tight against his. His grip was powerful, his body burned with the heat of his passion.
"Huh. Never seen that move before," commented Silas.
"Shut it," snapped James, eyes glued.
"What I need," Conrad whispered, "is you." He kissed her then, his eager mouth hungry for the taste of hers. His kiss was fire, threatening to set the night ablaze. His hands were greed, demanding more with each touch. His body was a prison of wanton desire, seeking to capture Tamassa with its needful promise of forbidden delights.
((To be continued later))
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