NationStates Jolt Archive

The sun, a glow of red orange, set into the horizon and the breeze lifted the dirt into the air. In the distant desert, a lone wolf cries out startling a few birds to fly off into the red stained sky.

Crystal Serale walked into town, leading her white horse along the way. It seemed to her the town had just gone home to bed. Not a lot was seen around the roads leading into the town. The town was pretty large for being in the middle of the desert. It offered a variety of services to the citizens. She could hear the twang of a high-pitched voice coming from a local bar and she walked towards it. She tied her horse, Silver; next to a few other horses and walked through the swinging wood doors.

Crystal walked into the bar and people just pretended to ignore her. She saw the gazes and continued on her way to the bar counter. She understood why they did that. Her attire could intimidate the locals.

Crystal stood about five feet seven inches, but with the heels on her boots she stood about five feet ten inches. Her clothes showed her very curvy body. She wore very short black leather shorts with a leather belt resting below her hips that carried two handheld guns and one case, which had a wide based knife in it. Her top was also black leather and was cut to reveal her toned arms and much of her bosom. Around her neck and resting between her breasts was a silver crystal. She also carried a soft black leather bag, which had her necessities in it and among other things. Her hair a wild mess, both from the ride and the desert wind, fell around her upper body. Her hair was the blackest of black. Her face called attention because despite all the time she was in the sun her complexion was still a pale creamy white and her eyes were the unique colour of silver that sometimes in the sun appeared to contain different colors of blue, red, purple, and orange.

Her face now was blank and she sat down on the barstool. The bartender asked her what she wanted and she ordered a blood Mary. Now, she would wait.

OOC: Crystal is a bounty hunter, more about that will come later, so I am looking for others and possible people to hunt. This is kind of like the show Cowboy Bebop, if anyone knows of that show.

OOC: On average, how many of these things do you start in a week?

EDIT for postage...

I don't usually go for this japanime stuff, but there's a lack of decent RP's in the forums these days, so what the hell...

IC:

A tall, muscular man parked a dune buggy out front of the bar...

He looked to be in his early thirties, with light brown hair cut into a longer military style. His estimated height was around 6'2", his weight somewhere around 270 lbs. He was dressed in a set of black-ish fatigues, with a pair of black Magnum-brand combat boots. A pair of titanium/aluminum alloy nunchaku where attatched to his lower back. A .40 caliber Glock handgun rode on his belt, in a sidearm holster, opposite a Gerber Survival/Explorer knife made from 440 stainless steel. A sub-compact Glock of the same caliber rode with a Smith & Wesson folding SWAT knife in a bootlace holster on his right boot.

He entered the bar, pulling the dusty tactical goggles from his face to let them hang from his neck. Fingerless tactical gloves the same color as his boots covered his hands. The mysterious dune buggy-rider seats himself at the bar, ordering a bottle of Guiness...

*taggage*

OOC: I'll send you a TM

#TAG# for watching, may decide to enter, if this isnt closed.

ooc: cowboy bebop..... :lol: you said the magic words tagg


the description of the town and region sounds very much like trigun

He had come to this dirtball of a city nearly a month ago, after being forced to flee Jiggady. Once a proud and high ranking agent of the Jiggady Defense Agency, Noah Flint now spent his days at the bottom of a bottle. He sat at the bar, hunched over the drink that he cupped in his hands and ignored the usual crowd of people that he had come to know in his time here. Long blond hair dangled around his shoulders, providing an effective barrier to shield his face from those that weren't right in front of him. He grumbled slightly as he shifted in his seat and slowly brought the glass to his mouth and took a long swallow of the cheap liquor.

Noah had fled to here with a substantial amount of money but quickly squandered it on housing and alcohol; and he now took up residence in any ally that he could find. A bit of room was allowed to him at the bar as the next closest patrons sat at least three seats away on either side of him. Those regulars had found out early that Noah wouldnt tollerate being bothered, all it had taken was the brandishing of his pair of shiny 45mm's and the other patrons backed off.

Some had learned that lesson the hard way. During his second week at the town he had taken up his usual seat at the bar only to have another man sit down next to him and gruffly insist that he move. Noah smiled at the man and continued to drink until placing the empty cup back down on the bar. He straightened the edges of his vest coat and in a flash had a knife drawn out of his sleave and at the mans nether regions. The larger man went white and slowly backed away into the crowd of people, and was never seen back at the bar.

In the month that he had been here he moonlighted as a hunter (bounty) as a way to make some easy money so that he could continue with his drinking. Noah had found that the skills he learned while working with the JDA had come in handy. He quickly learned the streets of the town and could get around without being seen with ease. The equipment that he had made off with had also aided in this venture, but this dirt town hadnt coughed up any top notch bounties yet. And Noah pined away waiting for an opportunity to make a bigger score.

Noah now sat in his usual seat with the usual glass of rum in front of him. He stared into the golden brown liquid, mesmorized by its brilliance and finding something to laugh at the fact that it always seemed to be half empty. The doors to the bar creeked open and Noah turned his head just enough to see who walked in.

Hmmm...A newcomer. I hope your time here is better spent than mine. Noah thought to himself as he brought the glass back up to his mouth in a silent toast.


ooc: a brief look into Noah Flint, more will deffiently come out about him, his past, his personality...and what special gear he has with him.

A tall, muscular man parked a dune buggy out front of the bar...

He looked to be in his early thirties, with light brown hair cut into a longer military style. His estimated height was around 6'2", his weight somewhere around 270 lbs. He was dressed in a set of black-ish fatigues, with a pair of black Magnum-brand combat boots. A pair of titanium/aluminum alloy nunchaku where attatched to his lower back. A .40 caliber Glock handgun rode on his belt, in a sidearm holster, opposite a Gerber Survival/Explorer knife made from 440 stainless steel. A sub-compact Glock of the same caliber rode with a Smith & Wesson folding SWAT knife in a bootlace holster on his right boot.

He entered the bar, pulling the dusty tactical goggles from his face to let them hang from his neck. Fingerless tactical gloves the same color as his boots covered his hands. The mysterious dune buggy-rider seats himself at the bar, ordering a bottle of Guiness...

OOC: Just in case ya'll missed his entrance & description.

Sierra stood outside the bar, leaning casually against the wall beside the door. To the regulars, she was a familiar sight. She had been hanging around this town for a few weeks now, taking opportunities as they arose. Some of the locals called her a demon, though she'd hear none of it. These sun-crazed desert yokels would say anything. She was just different...special. Though her appearance, and the mysterious deaths that began around the time she arrived, did little to change their minds.

She had short, light-brown hair which she wore spiked to cover the slightly pointed tips of her ears. Her eyes shifted between gray and green, depending on the light and her mood. She was young, early twenties perhaps. A long, slightly form-fitting black coat hid her frame, and didn't seem to bother her in the day's heat. Lastly, she wore an old pair of combat boots. Personally, she didn't care much for the style, but they proved valuable in the desert.

Raising a canteen to her lips, she took a drink and watched the people around her. The bar was her favorite place to pass the day. Undoubtedly, she would end the night with a job or a meal. Either suit her just fine. However there were a few who entered here that made her uneasy. A woman who smelled of fear and death, and a man with equally unsettling subleties. Sierra had taken chances before, and this was no exception. Things would either work out in her favor, or they wouldn't. Simple as that. For now she would wait, and see what fate had to offer.

It was late at night when Cas Jenkins rode into town. He was relevied to see the old posters with his face on had been covered up with newer posters that had other mens faces on. He tied his horse up in the stables to feed, and paid the boy to wash him down. Cas stood no taller than most men, perhaps 5'8" in his stocking soles, he wore about a months worth of straw coloured stubble on his chin, and a mismatched brace of pistols on his hip.
He ordered some food from the bar, and a bottle of bourbon for the trail.
"No" he had told the barman, "No, I won't be staying overnight"
"That's funny" had said the barman "It's mighty late allready."
"That's ok" Cas had replied "I wanna make the best time for Silver Springs I can, and I think I can make an hour or two yet before I have to camp down."
"Takes all sorts" had said that barman.
"That is does" Cas had agreed.
Cas looked around the saloon uneasily, because saloons wern't safe for me like him. But it was late, and he needed food, and only the saloon was open.
He looked around, and a tear came to his eyes as he saw a whore that looked just like sally. That was how it had all happened, all this over a silly little whore called sally. He could still remember the smell on the strangers breath as he stood there facing him, telling him to leave her alone.
"My business." The stranger had said.
"Maybe you didn't quite hear me." Cas had replied. "I said - Leave. Her. Alone."
"Make me." The stranger had said.
And they had stood there, staring at each other. Cas and the stranger with his arm around Sally.
They stood there, staring into each others eyes. Daring each other to make the first move.
The stranger went for his gun. The stranger was drunk, Cas was sober.
The stranger hit the ground with his gun still holstered. That was murder.

Infact, it was a saloon like this that had caused his last spot of bother. Someone had reconised him. Someone and their two friends had followed Cas Jenkins into the desert. Someone and their two friends had never gone home again. That was three more murders.

Cas whiped a tear from his eye, and finished his slop. Then he got up, strode out of the saloon and rode into the desert.

Four murders, all over some silly little whore. It made a fair old price to anyone who felt like collecting.

Kiva watched the newcomers from his dark corner of the bar. Bounty hunters, he hated bounty hunters. He considered them to be beneath him. You hired bounty hunters when you wanted an animal caught, you called him when someone need to die. Still, the one in the heels wasn't bad looking, even to an assassin.

He was of average height and build for a human, but that's where similarities to normal people ended. He had jet black eyes, neck length platinum hair, and wore a black, ankle length trench coat(Vash style) with silver trim. Just visible on the left side of his waist was the handle of a 12" wakazashi(short japanese sword). Hidden in the folds of the coat above the wakazashi was the handle of a 28" katana. On his right side he wore 6 small knives. The top button of his coat had been replaced by a small silver pin, a falcon with a sword in its beak.

OOC: Trying out a new character, not really sure what'll happen. Just a short description, more later, especially about the pin.

Hmm...Lots of new faces, and some familiar Noah found himself turning around to look at the door many times as unfamiliar sounding boots were constantly walking through the rickety doors. He rubbed his bare right arm, where the vest didnt cover, and stared at the fox tattoo on his right bicept. His abnormally bulkier left arm was sleaved from the unusual looking garment that was a sleevless vest on one arm and full sleeve on the other. The usual patrons at the bar had always noticed that he didnt flex his left arm that much, but they knew to keep their whispering thoughts to themselves.

The wind kicked up outside and the doors brushed open again, a mini sandstorm of dirt floating in. It kicked around the bar but none of the patrons seemed to care at all; and it settled on the floor. Just another layer of filth.

Slowly he shuffled to his feet and turned around to look over the open area of the bar where other patrons gathered around tables. Keeping his head low he made his way over to one of the walls, scuffing his boots on the hardwood floor to hear the metalic jingle of the spurs, and stopped at the dusty box on the wall. Noah kept his eyes constantly moving as he shuffled over, looking at every individual in the bar through the long hair over his face, taking in the important details of the newcomers. With his right arm he brushed the hair back over his head and tied it back with some string, letting everyone look at his sullen face.

Noah reached into his pocket, felt around, and pulled out some jingling coins. Slowly he placed them into the little box and pressed several of the buttons until he was content with the ones that he punched in and shuffled back to his seat at the bar.

As he seated himself back down Noah resumed his usual posture as the song began playing over the speakers. A lone sad guitar strummed along in a labouring pace hitting low and high notes, working the emotion. The pace picked up as another and another guitar joined in until the the trio had turned the song into a face paced action song that made his fingers involuntarily tap along on the wooden bar. The excitment of the song made his body start swaying with the ups and downs of the notes and he had to keep from drawing his pistols from the insides of his vest and from his hips in all his excitment. And just as suddenly as it picked up, the song ended the beats of a lone drum pounding away like a heartbeat; and Noah relaxed and calmed his body.

It was a gunfighters song, and everytime he heard it he got the itch for the old days with the Agency; and every time he tracked a bounty head the song played over the headphones that he would wear.

Noah raised his finger slightly and the bartender poured more rum into the dirt glass in front of him. Half empty as usual He thought to himself. Noah went over in his mind the images of the new faces that he saw on his way to the jukebox, many new faces and many dangerous ones.

Dangerously beautiful and deadly looking. And just plain deadly looking Noah thought back to the images of the several women and men that he gilmpsed. It didnt take a trained agent to see that some of these others were also hunters, and Noah smiled slightly with the thoughts that maybe something would finally come up.

Cas Jenkins glanced over his shoulder as he rode out of town, but it didn't look like anyone was following him. Yet. Maybe noone had reconised him. Maybe people had, but just didn't care.
He rode out into the desert for about an hour and a half, leaving the route to Silver Springs clear over the horizon. If anyone was going to try and head him off there, they were going to be out of luck.
He lit a small fire with some of the low laying scrub, just enough to keep himself warm and then pulled a blanket and the bourbon out of a saddlebag.
He looked at the horses deep, dark, sorrowfull eyes. Poor thing, it had been through allmost as much as he had. He rubbed it's nose, then took a swig of bourbon and settled down by the fire.
Cas Jenkins had been sleeping alone for what felt like a lifetime to him now. In reality it was only a little over a month. He desperately wanted to go into a town, any town, drink and dance. Maybe play the banjo. He used to be a good banjo player. But that was a long time ago now, before he was a wanted man.
The bourbon fueled Cas's wandering thoughts for quite some time, before he finally drifted off to a fitfull sleep beside the fire.

Hmm...seems pretty quiet...

Deciding to take her chances, Sierra moved from her position against the wall for the first time in hours. Quietly, she stepped into the bar, pausing to quickly glance over the patrons with a steely gaze. Her leather boots creaked softly as she made her way to the bar with a graceful gait. Sinking onto a barstool, she waited to catch the tender's attention.

"Rum," she prompted softly, as he came to take her order.

This town was getting dull. Too many familiar faces in here, and perhaps too many strangers. Though she was still something of a mystery around these parts, there were a few too many people who knew her name, even if they did just live on the outskirts. Crowds made her uneasy, yet she'd trained herself to deal with it for situations such as this.

She picked up the drink as soon as it was set before her and took a sip while silently analyzing some of the strangers. A few of them met her gaze, though she wasn't bothered enough to drop hers. Perhaps she'd follow the one who had left earlier. He looked vaguely familiar somehow. Perhaps she'd seen his picture around, or run into him in another town. Who knew? At least the diversion would be more entertaining than hanging around here much longer.

The dusty pilot finished his Guiness, waving for the barkeep to pass him another...

OOC: Sorry that I haven't posted in awhile. The computer has been slow and stupid, or maybe it is the user...heeeheee. Well, anyway here we go...

IC: Crystal glanced about, another boring dirty town. Another dirty job that needed to be done. Her mission this time was a girl called Sierra. It had been awhile since she hunted woman and well it felt great when she got the chance. Woman could be monsters just like men. She remembered her last hunt for a woman. Took more time and strategy, obviously you couldn't win most women over with a hot body. This took a lot more than her looks it took her brains and braun.

She didn't know much of the girl and she didn't care; if she did it would just make things harder. She was here to do a job and get it done with, not to research it. The woman was beautiful in her own way, she drew attention, but in a way a child does. An innocence and that could be deadly. She knew the girl knew she was a hunter. Most monsters do and well woman have that little instinct. It was Sierra's eyes that drew people in and never let go. Crystal had those eyes too.

Crystal had nochalantly glanced around the bar noticing all the people that were dressed similar to her, well, in the means of carring weapons. I didn't know this town was that tough, she thought to herself.

She ordered a whiskey water and just waited.

OOC: Hey, let's get some interaction between the characters. There are very good descriptions of them, now lets find out who they really are. Not all of your characters are "shy" like my gal. Besides she is a bounty hunter and the people in the bar know, so, someone come to her. Or go to another character. Just a suggestion....

OOC:
I'm having the 'there are at least three bounty hunters' and I wrote a character with 'target' written all over him problem. And the bounty hunters didn't seem to notice. Maybe I walked him out of the bar too soon. Doh.

IC:
Sally watched Cas Jenkins ride into the desert, and she also whiped a tear from her eye. He wasn't a bad sort, a little over zealous maybe, but there wern't anything wrong with that. He certainly didn't deserve what happened to him. Mind you, nor had the other man who had been shot dead at her feet. An ugly mess, however you looked at it.
The night air started to get cold through the thin fabric of her dress, and she turned and walked back inside, her working smile back on her face. She picked a chair near the nearest man who looked like he had money to spare.
"This seat taken, sugar?"
She sat herself down, and began playing with her curly hair.
"So, why the long face? You look like a man who could use some chearing up, sugar."

Kiva finished his whiskey and walked over to the bar. He stopped behind the one with the boots and leather shorts. "Crystal?"

Noah leaned up in his seat and straightened his back, it was time to stop with the poor boy act and try and get some buisness done. His gaze shifted over the others at the bar, wondering what may transpire out of all this. He watched as the dust wridden man shook himself a bit and got another beer, dirt flying up until resting upon the floor. Noah shifted a bit, the stranger was sitting a little close for comfort for Noah, but the man was dangerous looking and he knew better than to mess with someone who was dangerous unless it was necessary. And in this situation it was not necessary, Noah merely lifted his glass to the other man and broke his rule of the proximity with which he let others sit near him.

The two women at the bar were deffienty sights to behold, something rare for this town; and Noah didnt bother to hide that he was checking them out. Waving the bartender over Noah leaned up to his ear for a brief exchange.

Butch nodded his head and walked off to fulfill the request, another drink for each of the people at the bar. ooc: the main characters that are sitting there right now. Noah knew what he was doing, the quickest way to get into someones circle was to get them a drink. And it was his way of breaking the ice. His thoughts then went back to the gentlemen who had left in a hurry, something about him seemed familiar; like he had seen the man in another bar in another town like this. Noah tried to think on the matter but could come up with nothing, maybe these other hunters know something.

ooc: Im guessing that Sally is sitting down next to Noah, if not than disregard the following and I will just edit it out later.

Her voice was like record player, scratching at first but smooth and rythmic once it got going. Noah turned his head and made sure to look irritated as the girl took up a seat next to him.

"You ever wonder why the others give me so much room at the bar. They know that I dont like people all of a sudden sitting down next to me, unless they are invited." Noah remained hard lined as he looked her up and down. Sure she may have looked good and sure he might initially have reservations about making threats towards a woman; but his training had removed that aspect of chivalry. A woman could be just as dangerous, and most likely more dangerous, than a man; and if you didnt know her than the safest way to stay alive was to treat her like anyone else. Though he did refrain from making a show of it that he was armed.

"Ive been sitting alone for a long time and I havent had anything to smile about for a long time."

A tap on the shoulder pulled Sierra from her silent musings. She tensed reflexively, her eyes flashing a hard gray as she turned around. The bartender didn't seem to notice this display of defensive aggression, and simply smiled while setting another full glass in front of her. She relaxed as quickly as she'd tensed, and regarded the tender with slight confusion.

"No-no, I don't need a refill," she tried to interject, but he waved it off.

"It's from him," he explained, jerking a thumb towards the man a few seats down from her.

Mildly surprized, she waited to catch his eye and thank him. She flashed her friendliest smile, careful to keep the ever-so-slightly pointed tips of her corner teeth concealed. She hated them. They scared too many people off, but oh could they be useful.

Perhaps this was the break she'd been waiting for. Time would tell. For now, she'd wait and see if he wanted to talk.

A slam of an ice-cold glass was set down in front of her. Crystal did not jump at the sound, but merely looked up at the bartender, who pointed in the direction of a male. Crystal just glanced at the man and went back to her drink.

"Crystal?" Came a gruff voice from behind her.

She did not turn around, "Who wants to know?" She took a sip of her drink and then decided to turn to see who would know her in this town. A smile flickered across her face, "Why, Kiva, it has been awhile."

Crystal did not hide the fact she was looking at him. "I see you have not changed one bit. How is your business going? I am on a business trip as we speak." Crystal tapped on the barstool that was open next to her and she called over the bartender. She grabbed a near by paper and scrawled on it ~my repayment is company~ and handed it to the bartender to give to the man who bought her a drink. She would spice up this dull night at least. She also ordered whiskey water for Kiva and set it in front of him. She lowered her voice to a hush and asked, "What are you hunting?"

"Something dangerous", Kiva replied as he took the stool and the drink. "Got the job from some guy back in Shaum. Called himself Scott Jones." Kiva sipped at the whiskey. "He paid $1,000,000 upfront and said if I followed his clues and brought him the head of whoever they led to he'd throw in another $9,000,000."

"From what I gather, he's playing a little game, trying to use me as a pawn.".............."I don't like games."

"What business are you up to, bounty hunter?"

OOC: looks cool, if theres no room, just ingore me...just send me into the dark cold void of nationstates.... :cry:

IC: Jake Wilder entered the bar. Jake was about six foot, 170 lbs, and had a face looked like someone upstairs had a very sick sense of humor. It wasn't natural, no, it had been caused by an accident a few years ago when Jake went up against the Royal Guard of Mikatopia. He had been a free merc then, one of the best in Mikatopia. One night he was hired by a group of terrorists to bomb the Royal Guard headquarters. Needless to say Jake failed. He had been tortured immensly, he still woke up screaming some nights. The Guard eventually gave him an ultamatium: Join them or die by being forced to eat hot coals. So now Jake was a member of the Guard, currently on assignment.

Jake moved up to the bar and sat thier for awhile, looking at the people. He enjoyed people-watching immensly. Before his accident, Jake had partied long and hard, in fact, he was pretty sure he impregnated a few girls at those parties. Back then he just left the girls and moved on, not really giving a sh!t. Not anymore, plus now, because of the tortures, he was scarred so psychologicly that he could never give himself to a woman.

Ahh..life was a bitch when you thought about it....

OOC: I am very sorry but I am not familiar with "Cowboy Bebop". Is this modern or what......

ooc: Bebop is more future, taking place around 2070 I believe. With spaceships and time spent on mars, venus and the moons of jupiter. But Im not sure how she was doing this rp, it seems more modern.

ic: Noah looked up slightly to catch the reactions of those he had gotten a drink for. The pilot was still working on his last Guiness and didnt recieve his next one yet but the two women got theirs. The one reacted just as he had imagined from his analysis of her when he walked the bar, calm and collected. The drink was placed in front of her and she had gone about her buisness with only a casual glance back at him, as if that was what she was expecting.

The other had been a bit of a surprise to him, she had appeared to be much like the other woman; a calm and collected professional. Noah had no doubt that this was the truth and that she was only caught up in her thoughts which was the reason for her tense reaction; yet something was different and he made a note of it. She looked as if she were ready to take the bartenders hand after he tapped her on the shoulder and Noah thought of what could make her so tense. There is deffienetly more going on here than a simple collection of hunters with nothing to do. Noah returned the smile and went back to his own glass of rum, he would talk with her later no need to rush things.

Noah turned back to the woman who had sat down next to him, wondering what her reaction would be to his gruff manner with her. He sat in silence, playing his little agent game of hardballing a new contact. Butch (I named the bartender if no one minds) walked slowly back, cleaning out a glass in his usual lazy fashion. He placed a napkin down at the bar and Noah figured there was a drink coming to him however, Butch walked away still cleaning his glass. Casually Noah reached out with his right hand and took the small object, slidding it closer to him. He remained looking at the girl next to him as if he was interested in what she had to say and stole a glance down at the napkin.

A slight smile escaped from his mouth and he neatly folded the napkin up and placed it in his pocket. Just something that he would have expected from her, nothing fancy or indirect; just simple and straightforward. He put that away in his mind and would wait to talk with her later as well.

"What business are you up to, bounty hunter?"

She cocked her head slightly and laughed, “Is it that noticeable?” Not really wanting an answer because the answer was obvious. She took a sip of her drink and watched one drop roll down the glass and settle on the wood top of the counter. She turned back towards Kiva.

“Well, seeming I am a bounty hunter I am up to hunting.” She hated stupid questions and who ever came up with the line ~there are no stupid questions~ was obviously stupid themselves. She grumbled. She glanced at him and saw a flicker of hurt in his eyes and then he went blank again. Oh, she realized it was just an innocent question and nothing more.

“Hey, it has been a long day for me and you know what the heat does to a person.” She wouldn’t apologize, but she knew he would understand that was a close as she got to it. “I am up in this land for a bounty worth $50,000 if I get that person dead and $10,000,000 if I bring the person back alive. Guess my client would like to have a little fun. I plan to finish the job within a few days. Other hunters might be searching for the person also, but so far all others have failed. So, Kiva, have any suggestions for a minion,” she smiles, “like me?”

Kiva just smile. "Coincidences are always dangerous. And $10,000,000 is a big coincidence"

Crystal frowned, why would she and assassin be after the person? "True. But we are not sure that it is the same person." Man I hope it is not the same person, she smiled, I would hate to take away his money.

"Well, what's your strategy?"

"Watch, learn, strike."

The pilot tugged the pair of goggles up over his eyes... A bar was never a good place for a wanted man to rest. He was a hitman, the guy you sent after someone you wanted dead. He'd performed a contract hit on some old rich guy a few hundred miles back, he'd been hired by the guy's son. He'd snuck into the mansion, slipped the nomex string of his nunchaku around his target's neck, then twisted. The old bastard died in under a minute. For good measure, he rummaged through the drawers in the dead man's office, locating an old Walther semi-automatic. After taping an empty two-liter bottle around the end of the gun, he fired a shot into the dead man's head. He then tossed the makeshift silencer into the garbage, then flung the handgun away from the corpse, making it look like a suicide.

He'd left, entering a bar at the edge of town where he'd been told he'd recieve payment. Instead, he found another hitman, some punk kid who thought he had what it took to kill for a living. He didn't. As soon as Dekker, the first contract killer, leveled his Glock, the kid simply took off, leaving the keys to his dune buggy behind. Dekker found the buggy, then took off into the desert, winding up here as the gas in the buggy's tank ran dry. He was sure there'd be others after him, the son didn't like loose ends...

OOC: Merc. Soldiers, do you ever come up with different characters? Hasn't Dekker been in like a billion stories? I do like familarity though, at least I will know your characters qualities...unless they have changed...

IC: "Watch, learn, strike."

Crystal laugh did not echo in the bar, but was muffled by the noise in the busy bar, it sounded more like soft giggles. "Everyone uses that technique...is that all you have?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "There must be another method that you use, simple is just boring. And I do like it complicated...it is just more fun."

She paused, trying to remember a hazy dream...or was it? "When was the last time we were together by coincedence?"

Sierra was bored. She'd sat quietly and observed the bar's patrons long enough to determine the situation to be slightly on the red end of neutral. But only slightly. Syphis was looking for her, no doubt. More likely he had hired someone to do it for him. None here seemed to take exceptional notice of her, however - a promising sign. Time to socialize, and find her mark.

In her mind, Sierra replayed the vision she had a few days ago. She saw a face aged by the sun, with a cowboy's hat and brown hair. He was her last target here, the last asset Syphis found in this town. As soon as she found and killed him, she could move on.

That bastard...trying to replace me so quickly... It was moments to herself like this, that lent themselves to hateful reminscing.

Her eyes hardened with deadly resolve as her target entered the bar quite by chance. He was mildly attractive, in a rugged way, and she made no effort to hide her approval. The man, predictible as them all, took quick notice, and swaggered up to her.

"This seat taken?"

She smiled coyly and shook her head no, silently suggesting that he sit. Their conversation meandered over several topics, drinking all the while. He did not seem to notice that she only finished one glass. If she played coy, and kept up the game, he would invite her back to his place before long. Which is exactly what she wanted.

OOC: If I am too late let me know, I will edit out the post.

IC: Gaulle Brinder always made an imposing entrance, this time was no different. One first noticed the huge arms and forearms, body-builders were envious. Then your eyes drifted to the huge beer gut, a pendulous mass of fat overhanging his belt. Once you got past that you noticed the almost spindly legs sticking out seeminly too small to hold up the rest of the body.

Gaulle was a master swordsmith, he had studied under two different Living National Treasures. He had studied and mastered the 400 year old art of creating Heritage quality Katanas. His swords were prized possessions of the elusive Spider Ninjas among others. He only made 5 or 6 per year, the most he ever made was 8. They were very expensive.

The last Living National Treasures master that he studied under told him the true secret of making the ultimate sword was to do the final tempering by slicing into a peasant's stomach with a red hot sword. The old master told Gaulle that this was no longer an option.

Gaulle moved to the mountains not far from the little village to set up his smithy. He took the advice of his master to heart. When the latest sword he was making was ready, he would enter the city miles away. There he would kidnap a bum or prostitute, bring them to the mountain hideaway and do the final tempering.

When word of this got out into the Ninja world his swords took on a mystical significance, greatly increasing their value. Within days after Gaulle finished a sword a Ninja would show up to purchase it. Gaulle never contacted anyone.

Gaulle only made one mistake in capturing his victims. Three months ago there was some sort of police lock-down of the seedy part of the city and Gaulle was not able to find his usual nameless quarry. In a hurry he grabbed a maid leaving a large walled in compound. The maid turned out to be the wife of the powerful shipping magnate Aristotle Zapapous leaving for a costume ball. The security cameras recorded the kidnapping but the face of Gaulle was hidden by a Ninja type mask. The police made a cursory search but were hampered by the continuing food riots in the center city.

Aristotle, fed up with no results posted an eight million dollar reward for the capture of the kidnapper. He was under no illusion that his wife was still alive, thus the reward did not say wanted dead or alive. It just said Wanted Dead.

OOC:You could always be Sierra's target.

IC:"Oh, I have other, better strategies, but, then again, those are my strategies."

Kiva looked up at the next question. "Last time? Ten years ago, right after the July City Uprising. When I left the special forces and the military for good."

"Why I was only 14 then. That was some time ago. I remember it like yesterday though and I remember you..." Crystal stopped and blushed and then glared at herself for showing any emotion. "I remember that was when I got into bounty hunting because of the man who killed my father, who I am still looking for."

Crystal sighed. Another part of her had shattered the day her father was murdered. It seemed life would just chip away her very soul and every being. Crystal never knew why he left the military and she had only meet him that one day, a day as a child she had wished was forever, well, besides her father dieing.

"Why did you leave the ops, anyway?" She smiled. "Not being the most important drive you crazy?"

ooc: sorry about inactivity...will post tomorrow when I can find out what direction Noah is going to take in this and move in from being an outsider.

Noah really didnt know what to do, he had made several in's but each of them was currently in conversation with others. He sat at the bar and downed the glass of rum, and in his mind drummed up the social skills that had been beaten into him at the Agency training camp.

Slowly he got to his feet, another song that he played came on appropriatly and Noah smiled; he loved these gunfighter songs. Doing so he wondered how to get into their conversations, guitars beat in the background and his fingers twitched wildly.

Hmm, maybe an audition is in order for them. Sorry Jake, I've been sitting here all night thinking about you. I know that we are friends and that the $7,000 bounty is barely enough to cover my bar tabs but you must be sacraficed. You are weak I am strong that is the way the world works, if you cant keep up with me than you must be dealt with. I am your shepard, I kept you safe for several months from other hunters, but it is time for you to be slaughtered so that I may live well this winter.

His spurred boots clicked across the hardwood floor as Noah swayed up to the table where his target sat. The lanky stable hand sat with a buddy of his tossing back whisky and yelling loudly. "Hahaha, I told you about that stinkin whore I bagged in El Texxo. Stupid bitch laughed so I cut her. Hahaha."

Talk about stupid Noah thought. He stopped ten feet away from the table and began to talk.

"Sorry Jake, I've been sitting here all night thinking about you. I know that we are friends and that the $7,000 bounty is barely enough to cover my bar tabs but you must be sacraficed. You are weak I am strong that is the way the world works, if you cant keep up with me than you must be dealt with. I am your shepard, I kept you safe for several months from other hunters, but it is time for you to be slaughtered so that I may live well this winter" Noah repeated the speech that he had just recited in his head, he loved that dramatic oratory crap. The pistols under his arms and at his hips had not been concealed all night so it was no surprise to many of the patrons as Noahs hands twitched at their sides.

He smiled as he saw his 'friends' eyes go wide with shock, Jake set down the shot glass and put his hand on his leg; where Noah knew there was a Magnum. The two stared at each other as the song carried on, guitars jazzing along in wild hypnotic beats, and when the time was right he drew.

Noah had the guns out before Jake could swallow the liquor still in his mouth. The pair of 45's shot out from his hips and blazed away in tune with the song. The first ten bullets found Jake's drinking buddy who at the time was pushing away from the table to draw his guns. He was tipped over his seat before he could rest his hand on the but of the gun and bleed out on the floor. Noah turned quickly towards Jake and laced out with the remaining bullets in the clips. They traced a line up his body, from the groin up the torso, up the neck untill the last one embeded itself in his forehead.

The shell casings had dropped to the ground in a perfect harmony of clinking, that was followed by two loud thuds as Noah dropped the guns and raised his other two in a show off spinning fashion. Jake slumped over the table, the whisky still in his mouth dripped out along with blood.

"This man had a bounty on his head and I am collecting." Noah said aloud first to clear up anything the other people at the bar might have been thinking. He then turned towards the people he beleived were other hunters and spoke to them. "That is my audition, I have skills and have been in the game some time. Though I grow tired of this town and I think a partnership between hunters may be beneficial to us all. Catch some bigger game, and sure the money is split up between more hands the risk is also split up between more hands."

TaG: will enter when time more appropriate. Hi everyone I know :wink:

Crystal looked back at the noisy show behind her and rolled her eyes and yawned. Sometimes people would do anything for attention. This man was asking for a partner, how odd for a bounty hunter to want a partner when there is money involved. She shrugged her shoulders, would it even pay to partner with someone. She paused her thoughts and looked over at Kiva, shook her head and continued. Yeah, the money would be more, but you would have to split it and deal with them. She liked to be alone.

She looked down at her drink and the small puddle of water around the edge of the bottom of the glass.

Alone.

Sierra finished her second glass of rum with the slightest smirk. Apparantly her previous assesment of this man was correct. He was somewhat of an exhibitionist. First buying her a drink, and now with the public slaughter. He wasn't afraid of attention...how amusing.

But this business about hunters...was he actually addressing her as part of this group? She was a hunter, true enough, but certainly not the sort he implied. Perhaps this card could turn out to be a good hand, and a better opportunity. While she hated the attention drawn by killing in public for any reason, she might be able to use him. She smiled darkly, and gave him a nod of approval.

Her gaze flickered to the rather imposing man who had entered earlier. The mere fact that he was able to walk, let alone support himself on those matchstick legs, seemed to defy the laws of physics. Watching him, her usual intuition failed her. There was something strange about him, and she could not bring any of the usual readings. Perhaps he would have something to do with Syphis in the future afterall. Any asset of Syphis was as good as dead. She'd have to keep an eye on this one.

But first things first. She smiled suggestively and traced her fingers over her victem's hand, and he predictably whispered the suggestion she'd been waiting for. Setting down her drink, she followed him out of the bar and down the street. He wouldn't see the morning. Dawn would find him a bloody mess behind a building somewhere. The varied slashmarks would look like he'd been attacked by some lone coyote, and would neatly shift the focus away from murder.

Crystal noticed that Sierra and her company left. She leaned into Kiva and said. "Lean closer and whisper something into my ear that it may look like we are leaving together. Please, I need to follow that girl and I don't want to make it obvious."

Her head and ear were still close to Kiva's head and she awaited him.

OOC: I don't connect well with characters I make up on the spot, they tend to be mostly 2D, which makes for a boring read. I also have to come up with some sort of backstory, personality, etc. Dekker's past & other miscellaneous stuff is on file in Dregruk's character database thread thingie. It streamlines the process for other players when you know who you're dealing with right off the bat.

Hey, I did add the nunchaku for that whole asian-cartoon-thing flare.

IC:

[i]Dekker finished the beer, then left the bar. The buggy was out of gas, the tank was drier than an eighty-nine year-old whore. He had two options: Walk, or find some other dumb f**ker who wanted the hefty bounty on his head & deal with them in the nessecary fashion.

A commotion sounded outside of the bar, a struggle between a man & a lizard-creature. The brawl was fierce, a vicious melee with no clear indication of who had the upper hand. The fight quickly turned in the lizard-man's favor when a knife was introduced, 440-grade stainless steel glimmering in the moonlight. The knife was one of several on the creature's person, this particular weapon was an oak-handled buck knife, around ten inches long.

The blade quickly found the jugular vein of the wielder's opponent, blood flowed like water into the dusty street. The lizard-man rose, licking the warm blood from his knife with a pale, forked tongue. He entered the bar, sheathing the blade somewhere on his person. To most, he looked like a black-garbed human, except for the four-foot tail that followed him where ever he went. An old-looking revolver hung at his belt, which held a few other assorted types of knives, from mini-Pentagon to K-BAR... It was obvious that this guy loved to cut...

A wanted poster on the so-called 'bounty board' on the other side of the bar contained his picture, scarred eye & all. With scaly, clawed hands he tapped on the bar. He never spoke a word...

The poster read:

WANTED:
JEKEL AKA 'THE QUIET BUTCHER' SLIPSTREAM
DEAD OR ALIVE

Slipstream slowly sipped his drink, a poorly-made whisky from some asscrack of a redneck town not even large enough to make it onto a map.
Jekel seemed keenly aware of the number of hunters in the room... Oddly, it didn't seem to bother him...

OOC:Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I've been having trouble getting onto the forums.

IC:Kiva leaned in closer. "So that's your bounty, interesting." "I wonder?"

(OOC: Apologies as well...I keep getting called in for extra shifts.)

She gave the lizard and his apparant enemy a wary glance as they passed. Not long after she and her quarry rounded the corner, they heard the fighting. She clung to her victem's arm affectionately, playing the game.

"Care to ride?" he offered as they approached a beautiful tobiano paint gelding.

"I'd rather walk."

Smiling, he took his horse by the reins and led him.

"Where are we going?" she questioned, knowing full well.

"It's not far. You'll like it. I promise."

With a free hand, he traced her jawline lightly. She smiled, nuzzling against his touch, but those cold eyes never warmed to his suggestion. As they walked, her steel gaze flickered from left to right, constantly evaluating the situation. There were still too many people on the street. She would have to wait.

Her opportunity arose not two blocks later. He steered them onto a whisper of a street. There was no one around. Growling ferally, she grabbed him by the neck and pushed him onto a road that was little more than a crack between two buildings. The horse whickered at the sudden pull, but otherwise remained silent. The man gasped and grabbed at her hand, staring at her with wide-eyed confusion.

"For Syphis."

Those two words were her only explanation. Drawing her hand back to strike, she revealed nails sharp and strong enough to be claws. Viciously, she raked them across his chest, face, arms, anything that presented an opportunity. He choked on the shock, unable to scream. Before he could get his wits about them, she tore through his throat. He died without much of a struggle, that look of shock now chisled into his face. Smelling blood, the horse whinnied and screamed, trying to rear up but the man had not released the reins. Sierra grabbed the reins from his blood-streaked and still warm hand. Moving quickly, she swung herself up on the horse's back, and urged the young gelding into a hand gallop. She'd have to clean herself up in the desert before coming back. And there was still that other prospect to worry about.

At the edge of town, she looked back. There were people on the street, but none of them seemed in a mad rush to deal with the dead man, or to come after her.

Dekker left the bar, tossing the keys at the dune-buggy as he passed it. He'd hoof it the rest of the way, since there wheren't too many horses to steal around here...

Gaulle Brinder stepped up to the bar and ordered "The Usual". The bartender pulled out a pitcher sized mug and filled it with ale. Gaulle downed half of it in three gulps. He let out a loud burp and surveyed the room. Bounty hunters and bounty he thought what an odd combination here tonight.

Gaulle nodded to the bartender and the bartender rolled a keg of ale out to Gaulle's side of the bar. With one massive arm he grabbed the keg and propped it onto his shoulder. He moved to the door walking unsteadily on his spindly legs. Later observers would comment that he looked like a wading bird, lifting one leg, carefully placing it down, then repeating with the other leg. He put the keg in his wagon and returned to the bar to finish his drink.

In the shadows lurked a neophyte ninja, there was almost always one around Gaulle, making sure he lived long enough to make them a sword. Gaulle was oblivious to this and most everything else as well. Gaulle was pretty sure he had a bounty on his head, but had no idea how large it was. Most of the bar girls disappeared when he arrived on the scene. He was not a kind man, and the smell that lingered around him was putrid. If he ever changed his clothes it was because they rotted off his body.

The katana hung on his belt however was exquisite. With those arms there was no doubt he could cleave through bones. He again looked around the dirty bar looking for the bar girls and then finished his drink. He never took the stubby cigar out of his mouth and slimy tobacco juice was dripping off his chin.

He turned to the bartender and exclaimed "Well I have to get back and hide the bodies." The bartender thought it was a joke, Gaulle meant it.

OCC: If its to late for me character to enter I will just edit it out.

As Mario Edwards slowly walks around the dusty old town he notices a small bar with lots of commotion buzz around it. He decides that it will be best to search this place first. He slowly enter the bar and heads towards the bartender. Being 6 feet flat and hooded to where noone could see his eyes or hair.
Interesting coup we have here. Bounty hunters and bounty, quite the irony. I wonder any of these are here for my head or the head of my pupil he thought silently.
"White wine bartender."
As the bartender brings him his drink, he does something that catches many eyes, pays with solid gold coins.
Latez

ooc: dont mean to clutter this up with ooc posts, but must appologize for my own lack of activity... working combined with the bar...and crappy computer has led to my inactivity... hopefully will get back involved tomorrow.

ooc: dont mean to clutter this up with ooc posts, but must appologize for my own lack of activity... working combined with the bar...and crappy computer has led to my inactivity... hopefully will get back involved tomorrow.

ooc:I'm goin to florida for a month and i'm not sure about access to a computer. I'll try to post as much as i can, but if i haven't posted a reply within five days then i'll leave it up to Amanda decide who will take over control of Kiva. Sorry about the inconvenience.

OOC: Jiggady I agree with you. I have two jobs and the bar life steals a lot of my spare time. Sorry, about my slow response cause it is my story. As for Shaum, I suppose I could, but I do not like to do that because I do not know what your character is thinking and how they would react in a given situation.

A smile crossed Crystal's face. It was time. She looked at Kiva and said, "We must continue this some other time. Duty calls." She laid some money on the bar top and walked out to her white horse. The horse whined a bit and she patted his head. She let her bounty have some time to ride off. She thought this woman was smart, but to ride off into the desert come on.

Crystal took off in a flash, leaving only dust to follow. Shortly there after she stopped and pulled both guns. She pointed them at Sierra and said, "Dead or alive? I guess that can be your choice."

It wasn't hard to miss the clatter of hooves or the cloud of dust as another rider approached her. But even at night, the desert offered little to no cover. It wasn't worth the effort anyhow. Deciding to save the horse's strength, she eased him down to a lope, and down to a walk as the rider made no effort to chose a path that didn't involve her. Seems she had misjudged her opportunity.

Sierra had expected a hitman of sorts, but was genuinly surprized when this other woman pulled two pistols on her. This was the woman from the bar..no wonder she got a strange vibe back there. To come out here by oneself was both foolish and impulsive - dangerous traits they apparantly shared.

"I really have no idea what you're talking about," she returned cooly.

She held the reins loosely in her left hand, both wrists draped over the saddle horn in an easy posture.

Crystal remained still on her horse. She expected this reaction from the other woman. She had watched how she was at the bar and figured the woman was used to being hunted. She held her arms straight and her gaze didn't falter.

"Well, I got an assignment that says I get 10,000 if I bring you back to my client alive. I figure that is much better than if I kill you." She paused. The corner of her lips turned slightly up and she said, "But I have no problem killing you right now. You know eye for an eye, or maybe I should scratch you too, talk about a bitch fight."

Both of her fingers on the trigger did not move, but remained stationary for the time being.

(OOC: Oh look, the forum's working!)

Worth more alive than dead...of course. Did you really expect it any differently?

"An eye for an eye..." she grinned darkly, watching the hunter from the corner of her eye. "Now what have I done to deserve retribution from you?"

The horse beneath her shifted, twisting his ears as if interested in the conversation.

"You don't really expect me to come along quietly, like an obediant dog, do you? I'd hope you are more wise than that."

Her gaze flickered to the barrels of the guns, almost daring. She was beginning to wish she'd paid the woman a bit more attention earlier. And another eye for another eye, till everyone is blind.