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#Post#: 336279--------------------------------------------------
Tombstone, AZ 1882
By: Bethany Daniels Date: April 15, 2013, 9:57 pm
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Six months have passed since the gun fight between the Cowboys
and the Earps in Tombstone. With Morgan Earp and Doc Holliday
dead, the Cowboys disbanded, and Wyatt and Virgil moving away,
Tombstone is ripe for the taking. Countless outlaws begin to
move in with hopes of claiming the town for their own. The local
authorities are having difficulties keeping the peace and
keeping the citizens safe.
Lawlessness is running rampant and law enforcement is spread
thin. It is your choice to decide which path you take. Will you
choose the lawlessness of being an outlaw, or will you take up
the badge of the law? How will you live your life in the
territories of the American West?
#Post#: 336544--------------------------------------------------
Re: Tombstone, AZ 1882
By: Bethany Daniels Date: April 16, 2013, 7:40 pm
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The entire day had been long and arduous, minor tasks having
taken much more effort than planned. Bethany should not have had
to shoot two men when robbing the train, but they had been so
ornery. She did, though, have to keep her identity a secret, and
the two men had seen her face. The secrecy of her criminal acts
was her highest priority, and murder was what it took to keep
that secret.
When she committed heists, she did not target women, children,
or the working class; but chose to steal from those who had far
more money than they needed, though she certainly was not from a
Robin Hood figure. She did not steal from the rich and give to
the poor, but simply kept it for herself and her family, well
future family.
Now, as she set her room within the Grande Hotel, combing her
hair impulsively, she griped about the day’s events; but that
would not destroy her evening. She had plans to head to one of
the local saloons within Tombstone, and gamble a bit of her
money away. Bethany was quite interested in poker, and winning
the money of many of the miners and local bankers. They were
always hypnotized by her beauty, which helped play into her
hand.
“Ma’am, how is the dress you ordered?” The female orderly asked,
vying to act shyly.
“It is perfect, dear. Thank you for helping me into it.” She was
always kind to the help.
Bethany had grown up in a small town in Alabama where her family
worked as paid servants. She had been horribly mistreated the
father of the family she served; but the eldest daughter, who
was nearest Beth’s age, had grown to be one of her greatest
friends. But her father wanted to use Bethany as a ‘mistress’,
nearly forced himself onto her.
Emma had known about what her father was trying to do to Beth,
and hated it. She had given Beth one of her father’s Colt
revolvers in order to defend herself. The man had come to her
one night, at her mother’s house, in a drunken state and nearly
had his way with her. Bethany had shot him when he almost
achieved his goal, and watched him die at her feet.
She had been on the run ever since, with Emma as a companion.
But Emma died two years after they had left Alabama, from
tuberculosis and left Bethany by herself. She had spent some
time in Tucson, struggling to survive. One day, she had come
across a pair of pistols, beautiful and powerful, and used them
to commit her first crime.
Bethany had been living that way for three years now, and had
relocated to Tombstone. This town was wonderful, because no one
knew of her past from Alabama or Tucson. She was at peace her,
well almost, and could come and go as she pleased.
“Hello boys.” She announced when she entered the saloon, her
brilliant blue eyes moving over the crowd of men.
#Post#: 336584--------------------------------------------------
Re: Tombstone, AZ 1882
By: MrMaru Date: April 16, 2013, 8:54 pm
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It had been a long time since someone had come to Tombstone.. So
long, it seemed almost a mythical place; a legendary place which
only existed in fantasies. Well, so most would think. Sitting at
the bar, watching as a woman came in, was a man in black;
adorned entirely in black. He was a legend, round these parts,
and now he'd placed his sights upon this latest girl; she seemed
right for the picking.
Having decided within but a moment of seeing the girl, that he
would have her, the mysterious man slammed his right hand
against the counter-top; waiting for the barkeep to rush over as
he knew the varmint would. "You know what I want." The man's
voice echoed to the barkeep as he rushed to get the man's
whiskey.
Having gotten his whiskey, the man in black made his way to the
woman; his gruff unshaven appearance being the only human aspect
he presented. So, he made his way to the woman and offered her
part of the bottle. "'Ere y'go, I reckon y'need this more th'n I
do, lass." Of course, he looked at the group of rat-scallions
she attempted to speak to, then spoke to her again. "'Reckon
these boys'll mess y'up, but good, 'ya go on tryina' talk t' 'em
again."
#Post#: 336819--------------------------------------------------
Re: Tombstone, AZ 1882
By: Bethany Daniels Date: April 17, 2013, 2:28 pm
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The men had all turned to stare at Bethany, as they always did.
She was the only woman in this town that ventured out alone, and
entered the saloons to gamble. Also, unbeknownst to her, she was
said to be one of the most beautiful women in this podunk town.
She honestly didn't care either way, none of the local men
tickled her fancy.
The stark blue gaze of hers turned toward the only man to offer
a drink without underlying tones of sexual misconduct, a man
dressed drearily in black. Bethany had watched him marching
towards her from the bar, and her mild interest had kept her
rooted in place. She rarely spoke to anyone here, except at the
poker table, because she felt many of these people were
undereducated.
When she opened her mouth to speak, she paused. Beth was
flabbergasted by the manner in which the black-clad man spoke.
She had an accent herself, a sweet southern drawl, but you could
understand what she was saying. With this man, though, she only
deciphered half of what he had said. And she certainly did not
want to be rude; she had manners, even as a criminal.
"I do not drink, I am sorry." She finally said, pushing the
outstretched bottle away. "But I did not understand most of what
you said, sir. You must be a foreigner."
Bethany chose not to drink for many reasons, but the largest was
due to the fact she acted like a heathen when drunk. She would
shoot wildly into the air, kiss any man she saw, and once had
ran around completely devoid of clothing. She would never allow
herself to do such things again, especially with the secret she
had to keep hidden.
With a polite curtsey to the man, she sauntered toward the poker
table and took a seat. The metal of her pistol but into her
thigh, but it was a comfortable feeling. She did not go anywhere
without at least one of her pistols. While the cards were being
dealt to her, she looked over her shoulder and smiled politely
at the man. She mouthed 'Thank You' to him for the kindness he
had shown, though she barely understood him.
#Post#: 337048--------------------------------------------------
Re: Tombstone, AZ 1882
By: Forgotten Date: April 17, 2013, 6:40 pm
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Gold and lead, the only things that seemed to get anyone,
anywhere in these parts. Unnfortunately for the young Irishman,
he only had the latter of the pair, lead. He was a mercenary, a
gun for hire to the highest bidder, and he considered himself a
damn good one. Afterall, he was still alive, and he had a pair
of Smith & Wesson Schofield Model 3, carrying them in two cross
draw holsters, that he could easily remove them from. He had
picked them up off of a sheriff and his deputy that Aron had
killed in texas, and now used them without the slightest
restraint.Now after a month of running he reached the one place
that was truly safe for an outlaw, like him.
Tombstone.
The dirt streets were practically stained red, by the amount of
blood that had been spilt here. Not even the famous Wyatt Earp,
and his brothers had made it through this town unscathed, and
that had been before it became hell. Now it was practicaly a
battlefield, a rare day going by, when no gunshots were heard.
Now he was here, and ready to expand his already growing name.
Aron Mackey was ready for a fight, and he knew he wouldn't have
to wait long for one in this dying beast.
After tyying his horse outside, he stepped into the saloon.
Squinting at the sudden darkness, as he strood to the bar, his
spurs ringing, as his boots thudded against the wood floors.
#Post#: 340831--------------------------------------------------
Re: Tombstone, AZ 1882
By: MrMaru Date: May 5, 2013, 8:47 pm
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His eyes, fixed upon the woman who spoke to him, barely moved
when the wannabe tough-guy walked in and made his way to the bar
like a typical worthless drunk; if that man would've attempted
to interrupt, he would've found himself lying prostrate with a
bullet planted firmly betwixt his eyes. Any of these yellow
bellied varmints would suffer the same fate; death.
"Th't's a'right, miss. Reckon a desert rose such as y'self'a
find 'ers'lf a man th't'll take real good care 'f her."
He spoke in somewhat broken English, but raised his right hand
and grasped the toothpick in his teeth and took them away;
speaking again. "Sorry, lass. What I said was that I reckon a
desert rose such as you would find a fella who'll take real good
care of her. If I stepped on y'toes, A dame like you shouldn't
fall for just any varmint what makes his way into a place."
Upon completing what he said, the man dropped the toothpick and
offered gruff smile to his otherwise stoic gaze. He did,
however, keep the cloak drawn over his body; concealing the
rifle and dual colt revolvers he had strapped underneath. Making
his way to the woman again, he spoke again. "Mind if'n I join
ya, lass?"
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