{Young Guns: Wild West RP} -Remade and Renovated- {OPEN}

[Stuck in Limbo]

Bonnie "the Drifter" Burrows

Bonnie ruffles her shaggy brunette hair which still has straw stuck in it as she looks at the male who had just spoken to her. He was one to talk, seeing he was drinking himself. And what did he say about women drinking? "Sexist son of a bitch..." She mumbles before finishing her glass and asking for another, just to get it. As she drinks her fresh glass she huffs at his comment about men. "I can look after myself, mister." She says, her words a little slurred "Also, what is the matter with some... excitment?" She asks after a couple of moments, more interested in her scotch than the man next to her. She has a look around and was satisfied to see no wanted posters of herself. She turns her attention back onto her drink.

[Jackkdaw]

"If I'm goin' down, I'm goin' down in a blaze of glory."

J i m   C a n t o n

The woman's reply brought a quick smirk to Jim's face and he rose his mug back up to his lips to take another quick sip of whiskey. "Alright, alright. Don't say I didn't warn 'ya." He responded as he set his mug down on the countertop. At the stranger's second reply, he turned his head towards her again and lowered a brow. "Ain't nothin' wrong with excitement, miss- 'pendin' on what it is you find excitement in, that is." He added, a hint of amusement laced in his gravely voice. He paused to quickly gulp down the remainder of the liquid in his mug, and with that, he flicked a coin at the barkeep, tipped his Stetson at the woman, and turned as if preparing to leave.


Short. Again. Sorreh.]]

[Stuck in Limbo]

[Jackkdaw]

"If I'm goin' down, I'm goin' down in a blaze of glory."

J i m   C a n t o n

Jim didn't bother to look back at the alcoholic woman at the bar, and instead slipped through the swinging double doors that creaked when they were pushed open. Boots clumping on the wooden floorboards of the saloon's front porch, he ignored the cackling of a couple drunken men nearby and trotted down the couple front steps and back onto the dirt ground. His palomino stallion lazily raised his head to greet the man, blowing a soft snort through his nostrils. "How 'bout we find us a place to stay for the night, then we'll get down to business in the mornin'." Jim murmured to the equine as he patted his neck and untied the reins from the hitching post. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the woman he'd conversed with mounting a horse outside the saloon and wobbling a bit in the saddle. The sight only made him blow out a rough snicker and roll his eyes. Woman's gonna drink herself right into the ground. He thought to himself while he slid his left boot into Seir's stirrup then swung his other leg over and heaved himself into the saddle.

The giddy stallion let out a nicker and tossed his head as Jim light tugged the reins to turn him around. Still, there was something- off about that woman from the saloon, he noted mentally, eyeing her as she rode for the town's exit. The nearby sound of numerous clopping hooves- the sound the woman seemed to be heading to- didn't really interest him, though. Clicking his tongue, he squeezed Seir's sides with his boots, urging the stud into a lazy walk down the town's main central street. It seemed the activity had died down a bit, but it didn't take long to find a tiny inn and a stable to keep the horse. Jim paid the stableboy and handed him Seir's reins. "You take good care of 'im, now." He muttered to the younger man, almost threateningly. The stableboy nervously nodded at the easily intimidating man and quickly led Jim's horse into the stable. After settling the payment at the inn, Jim was led to a tiny little room, fit with only a cot and a wooden chest. It was suitable for a one-night accommodation, and provided a great view of the main street below. Kicking off his dirty boots, he reclined with a relaxed sigh on the uncomfortable bed. As uncomfortable as it was, it sure beat sleeping on the ground.

[Chunky_Squirrel]

Jimmeh?!? Am I accepted or not? :/
The application is in the front page! ^.^ ))

[Jackkdaw]

[[Holy crep, Tiny, I'm so sorry! Yes yes yes you're accepted!
 Sorry, it's been a hectic week without access to ma computer and whatnot, so I didn't go read through all five pages of posts. My apologies, again!

[sparticles]

Analyse Tobin

"This isn't something I love to do, this is something I live to do."

The fairly large group set off across the sandy terrain, their horses galloping at an even pace as each rider bounced around in the saddle - wind through their hair and the west in their heart. The large pack of dogs bounding off ahead, already aware of their days work of helping capture a few brumbys. A trail of dust clouds had formed behind the group as the heavy hooves of horses hit the ground - causing it to almost some what shake. The Silver-Spurs Rach coming out of distance as they passed by the small town of Ridgewood - despite being a small town it held a fair amout of stores, houses and people.

As they passed the small town Analyse glared to her left seeing a few people turning heads, a few children had already hurried over and watched the mustang-wranglers pass with interest filling their faces. A smile grew across the womans face revealing her pearly whites, dipping her head she pulled around her arm and tilted her hat with a dip to her head - whenever they passed the town children always seemed interested, like they looked up to them or something. That caused happiness to fill the cowgirl to think others actually appreciated what they done - but she knew some would be against their choices.

After passing the town it only took 15 to 20 minutes to arrive at the large fields and mountains where the horses ran free, but Analyse didn't just capture them for her good. The amount of brumbys running loose had rapidly increased from the constant repeoduction from the mares and stallions - the herds increased and the land was beginning to be destroyed from the hooves and the constant grazing. This mustang wrangling had started off with her of course owning the larges ranch around the west. She made a pack with the Natives to capture any injured, old, young or lone mustangs from the wild - and she agreed to do so. Ever since doing this the numbers had decreased and the land is picking itself up - the money she makes goes half on the ranch and the horses and the rest onto keeping the lands safe along with giving some to the natives.

Analyse pulled on Stantons reins which caused the stud to slow down his pace - the group getting the signal and quickly slowing down. A light, quiet whistle blew past the womans lips which encouraged the dogs to halt and retrieve back to the beings on horse back. "Alright folks, we'll keep up with our regula' routine snaggin' any old, young, injured or lone brumbys. Split up, we'll each take our dogs and obviously meet at the main lan'. Got it?" she questioned "Yeah, sure doo!" nodding her head they set off.

For a few seconds Anna stood still, her weight spread equally across the wester saddle as she examined the surroundings. Her team were already gone from sight and searching for the broncos with their companions - Analyse always took a fairly large pack of dogs to help out it seemed to make things easier. Running her tongue across her dry lips she glanced at the ground hoof prints lead around a small canyon and up to the hills if she predicted right they would be there - afterall these tracks weren't fresh.

Nodding hear head Analyse clicked her tongue and kicked at the stallions side causing him to rear up - kicking out his front legs then slamming them to the ground and instantly shooting off. Whislting the dogs followed. Lightly the 3e-year old bounced up and down in the saddle once again, her hair blowing back with the light breeze as the steed charged forward - her muscles relaxed and her eyes fixed onto where they were going, she was confident in the four-man pack following behind her close enough but enough to stay out of reach of being kicked. Leaning forward in the saddle a little she lifted her hand and tipped her hat down. Now entering the canyon she hurried through.

[Liepi]

Im on my phone.))

Sky entered back to the ranch, the stallion she had bought had stayed with her the whole time. She pulled the reins lightly, making the mare slow to a walk as she neared the barn, knowing that was where her father would be since it was milking time. She jumped off of Kala's back and hitched her to the hitching post outside the barn before going back and untying the stallion from her saddle. She led him into the barn and smiled at her father. "Here's your surprise." She said brightly, revealing the stallion to him. He merely glanced up then looked back to his work solemnly. She could tell he was happy but something was nagging athim. Sky led the stallion to an empty stall and filled up his water before feeding him. She then walked back over to her father, satisfied that he was done with his task and grabbed him by the arm. "What are you doin'?" He grumbled as she drug him to the house. She opened up the door to the house and pulled him in then closed it. "What is wrong with you?" She demanded. "I'm not a kid anymore. I deserve to know." She said, staring him in the eyes. Her father looked at her solemnly before speaking again. "You of all people know I'm doing my best right now. I'm actually making more than you think. I've just been havin' ta give half of it to bandits. I never wouldnhave done it if they hadn't threatened your life." He said. Sky's eyes widened as she stared at her father and listened to his story. It seemed it went on and on. "I don't have wait they're asking and they're comin' today." He said. Right after he spoken she could hear the sound of many hooves pounding the earth. She ran upstairs and grabbed her gun, strapping it to her right hip and making sure her knife was in her belt then ran back down before following her father out.

The leader of the small posse of sorts was a well built man, and he actually looked pretty young, much like the others. He could see him looking around then stared her father dead in the eye. "Where's the money?" He said. His voice sounded gruff and threatening. "I don't have it." He said straight. "You already know that.." He added, staring at him once more. "And you know the penalty for not paying." He growled, one of his posse members pointed their revolver at her. "Death to the girl." He smirked. "Please don't do this. I'll pay I promise. You'll have it by tomorrow, honest." He pleaded. She cursed under her breath. Before the posse leader responded, Sky drew her revolver and pointed at the man who had a revolver pointed at her. She noticed the leader look over at her. "She has fire in her eyes." He laughed. "I'll agree but it better be here if ya want her alive." He said threateningly. "Leave her. Lets go." He muttered to his posse and the imediately galloped back out of te ranch. Sky turned to her father. "You need to tell me about these things. I could've helped you." She grumbled, disappearing back into the house, leaving her father on the porch.

Terrible. Just terrible. x.x But that actually happened another RP of mine in a dif game. xD))

[Vask]

Nathan sighed after the dress lady had left after giving him a polite thank you. He ran a hand through his hair and sat back down in the stool. Hopefully that one girl would pop in again. He somewhat enjoyed her company. Bennett sniffed and trotted up his arm, sitting on his shoulder. Nathan flicked his eyes up at Bennett then back down at his sketch. The gun design seemed so easy, but had not yet been accomplished by anyone. It would be a great sell if he got it to work. Nathan drew it very nicely, almost 3D looking. With a small smile, he realized he was done. Various parts and insides were drawn on the sketch paper. He stood, strolling into the back room. Nathan grabbed a bunch of tools and parts, walking back out. Sitting back down, he idly played with the parts to give himself ideas on how he would go about making a first model of the gun. While silently thinking to himself, Bennett ran amongst the various parts and tools on Nathan's desk. He heard horse hooves patter outside, and mumbles of men. Two large bulky men sauntered into the store. One had a mustache, and one with a beard, but both dirty looking. One of them had a liquor bottle in his hand, the other already smelling of it.

Nathan flicked his eyes up, but didn't move from his spot. He then looked back down, uninterested. The two went up to his desk. The one with the mustache slammed his hand against the counter. "I recon we have little orphan boy here." He said fiercely, spitting a spot of chewing tobacco on the floor. Nathan didn't pay any attention, and went on with his work. The mustached bandit growled, "I was talking to you, dirt." With that, the man swung his hand across Nathan's face. Nathan gasped, and flew to the side, hitting the wall. The bandits chuckled, boots thudding as they walked over to him. Nathan shook his head, brain rattled. Before he could even stand up, one of the bandits, the one with the beard, picked him up by his shirt collar. Smiling, the bandit drew his fist back and punched him square in the face. Nathan fell into the floor again, his right eye throbbing. The bandits chuckled loud, high giving each other. Nathan silently got himself up. The bearded bandit turned around right when Nathan whipped out his blade. Before the bandit could respond, Nathan slipped around him, stabbing him in the stomach. The bandit hollered loud, falling into the wall and sliding down. He got out his small silver pistil, pointing it at the one who was standing up. The bandit looked startled. "Now kid..." Nathan's eyes were fire, and he looked as if he were ready to kill anyone who dare touch him. "Don't ever call me Orphan Boy."  With this, Nathan lowered his aim and shot the bandits foot. He yelled even louder than the other, grabbing for his foot. "Get. Out." Nathan growled. The man with the bulleted foot helped his other friend up and they both hobbled out of the shop.

[Jackkdaw]

"If I'm goin' down, I'm goin' down in a blaze of glory."

J i m   C a n t o n

After he had taken his boots off, Jim took a moment to stretch before rising back to his feet and sliding the room's only window open facing the street and the shops on the other side. He'd always enjoyed the breeze, and this small room was pretty stuffy, anyway. The man cracked his knuckles and casually reclined calmy back on his rented cot in the town's small inn, the front rim of his Stetson pulled down over his eyes, and his hands behind his head as he relaxed. Just as he began to get comfortable to get at least a little bit of shut-eye, there was a loud commotion echoing from a small shop that was across the street from his inn, quickly making him swing his legs over the side of the bed and stuff his feet back into his boots- mostly out of instinct. Instantly, the idea of trouble brewing snapped across his quick mind as he pulled his coat onto his torso. As always, he double checked his sides with a quick pat to ensure his two pistols were in place, and before long he had shouldered himself out of his room's door.

Adjusting his belt, Jim quickly trampled down the two porch steps of Ridgewood's inn and onto the street. He kept his gait slow and calm to not bring any attention to himself or to the possible scene he was about to walk into. Reaching into his pocket, he casually pulled out a slim cigar, lighting the tip with a piece of flint he always kept for the purpose of campfires. Blowing a subtle puff of smoke from his lips, he clenched the cigar between his teeth as he approached the small shop. When he was a mere few feet away, he slowed his pace, rather in surprise, as he observed two burly men stumble out of the front doors as if they were in pain. This observation only furthered his natural suspicion something had gone down. Out of instinct, he kept one hand loosely placed over the pistol strapped to his right hip. With his free hand, he shoved the front door open, stopping inside and raising a brow at the young man who was picking himself up off the floor- a gnarly black eye painted on his face. "What happened here, boy?" Jim murmured gruffly, shifting his weight to one foot casually.