Dolly Cash

Name:

Dolly ‘May’ Cash-Campbell

Aliases:

Darlene ‘Noelle’ Lanchester

Age:

24 (November 16, 1844)

Gender:

Cis Woman (She/Her)

Orientation:

Bisexual (Fem Preference)

Relationship Status:

Single

Occupation:

Rancher / Bounty Hunter

Personality (Short Ver.):

Stubborn, ambitious, courageous, responsible, dependable, blunt, humorous, cruel

Personality (Long Ver.):

Dolly may look like a sweet girl, but she definitely doesn’t have a sweet attitude. She’s irritable and blunt, and while she might be nice if she likes you, if you're a stranger or you piss her off in some way, she’d likely take to spitting in your face before she’d utter a nice word to you. She isn’t friendly and doesn’t take kindly to having unwanted company, pushing away people who try to reach out to her and keeping her distance from crowds. Besides that the woman is just plain stubborn and doesn’t take to people telling her what to do. She’s a person of her own ways and sticks to them closely, not normally branching off for anyone. If she does though, consider yourself lucky she’d even acknowledge what you ask of her.

She might me harsh and a bit brash, but she still has a bit of a softer side to her. She’s courageous and quite dependable, sticking to her promises and delivering on them the best she can. When she says she’ll get a job well done, she tends to mean it to the fullest. Danger is no problem to her either, with her dog, horse, and gun by her side she dives right into reckless situations without a second thought.

Dolly loves a good joke and though her humor can tend to focus on cruel things, she can lighten up a lot if the mood sets her right. She’s protective of her friends, family, and companions, throwing herself into harm's way to help those that are close to her.

Likes:

Horseback Riding, Texas Chilli

Dislikes:

Tea

Appearance (Short Ver.):

Tall, athletic build, standing at 5’7, 136 lbs, with light blue eyes. She has pale, freckled skin, although she works out in the sun most of her days. She tends to wear many layers of clothes to protect her skin from the harshness of ranch work and the sun. Dolly has bright ginger hair that is tied back in a bun with two braids looping it. When pulled out of a bun, her hair is long and tightly curled. She can almost always be seen wearing a pink flower hair jewel, which keeps her curls pinned back. She has two big, noticeable scars, one on her shoulder and one on her forehead, both caused by a broken bottle. They are both always covered by either her clothes or her hair. Dolly has the soft appearance of any other city woman, but all the rough interior of a cowgirl.

Appearance (Long Ver.):

Dolly has lived her whole life rough and tough, though you wouldn't think that from just looking at her. Her skin is pale, her face is clean, and her clothes are never ripped. For a woman who spends so much time on the trails she loves her frilly skirts, puffy blouses, and makeup.

Her curly red hair is always brushed, neat, and tidy. The woman carries hair pomade in her bag at all times and spends at least a few minutes almost every morning slicking her hair back into a bun, with two braids looping it. Every day she wears a particular pink flower pin in the back of her bun, nestled in tightly and practically stuck to her hair from all the pomade she uses, which is likely the cause of why she hasn’t lost it yet.

Her makeup is a similar story. She’s become quite quick at her routine, so hardly five minutes might be spent on her makeup, but she's always got powder, blush, eyeliner, and lipstick on, even if she knows she's going to get wet or filthy.

Her normal bounty hunting outfit is made up of a well-kept black blouse, light-weight skirt, and overcoat. Though it’s hard to keep clothes clean when you're on the trail, every morning after she wears it she makes sure to groom and stitch it up so it looks at least decent. Other than this outfit, she always carries around a pair of dark work pants for the dirtiest work she does and another pair of white pants that she puts on under most of her skirts in case her skirt gets in the way.

Her pale, freckled skin has been protected for most of her life, despite her time ranching. Her mother had always had her stack on layers of clothes to avoid burning and getting too beaten up, which is why she does not have many scars at all. One big scar she does have is on her left shoulder, a slash mark in the shape of a broken bottle, though it is not visible under her normal clothing. She has one other very noticeable scar on her forehead, also from a bottle, though it's always covered by her hair. It's clear she takes good care of herself and enjoys doing it too, regardless of the conditions she tends to find herself in.

Dolly is a tall woman for her time, standing at 5’7 with a lean, athletic build from her years of ranching, though most wouldn’t guess this from the graceful silhouette her dresses give her. The lady has deepset eyes that are a frosty light blue and freckles trailing the bridge of her nose and cheeks, as well as all over her shoulders and the rest of her body. She has a straight nose and heart shaped lips, with a slightly more prominent lower lip.

Accent:

Scottish

Voice Claim:

TBA

Backstory:

Born and raised on a ranch alongside two siblings, a few miles from one of the biggest cities on their side of the country. She lived her whole childhood on this ranch, learning how to milk cows and wrangle steeds, regardless of the fact it was not typical for a woman to do the job she had during her time period. Her parents saw that she was determined, and taught her all they could about ranching, hunting, and keeping a home together.

Dolly was not raised very rich, but when she reached the age of 16 her parents started investing in getting her finer things, right before marrying her off to a city man at the age of 18. Dolly was not thrilled about this in the slightest and was heavily resentful towards her parents and the man she was made to marry. John Laine was never good to her and knew immediately that Dolly wasn’t the woman he was hoping for, but he tried keeping her around anyway. She enjoyed the riches he gave her, but not his company, and refused to do anything for him.

Eventually he brought in a mistress to “make up” for what Dolly wouldn’t do around the house, but he would have never guessed that Dolly and his mistress would get along a lot better than he had hoped for. Around this time Dolly’s younger brother would die in the Civil War far away from his family, and she grieved heavily, the pain weighing down on her. Hardly a few months after this, John would do something unspeakable to hurt Dolly.

Now she travels around, moving from spot to spot around the familiar state she was raised in, hunting bounties to afford food, supplies, and hotels.

Relationships:

Gwynn - Her loyal companion, a hefty Border Collie and Newfoundland mix. Her fur is White, cream, and black, and her eyes are a pale blue in color.

Risk - Her horse. He's a blue roan Missouri Fox Trotter stallion. Risk is a mellow horse, having a calm attitude, though he also tends to charge head on into danger, which is how he earned his name.

Other:

Gwynn's TH

Brandy Clinton

Name:

Brandy “Colter” Clinton (Might Change)

Aliases:

Clint Snow

Age:

16

Gender:

Cis Male (He/Him)

Orientation:

Gay

Relationship Status:

Single

Occupation:

N'A

Personality (Short Ver.):

Lively, charming, compassionate, casual, determined, proud, crafty, irresponsible, messy

Personality (Long Ver.):

Likes:

Dislikes:

Appearance (Short Ver.):

Appearance (Long Ver.):

Accent:

Voice Claim:

Backstory:

Relationships:

Other:

~Everett Hunter~

~Alias~
Reed Wilder

~Age~
39 y/o

~Gender~
Male

~Sexuality~
Heterosexual

~Appearance~
Standing at 5’9, Reed is just slightly taller than average but not enough to stand out all too much. He has a large frame, muscle built up from years of hard work. His skin is rough and aged, sunkissed and always covered in a healthy layer of dust and dirt from long days on the trails.

His thick brown hair is slicked back messily, loose strands of hair always falling out of formation. His face is covered in a stubble, and thick eyebrows frame his face. He doesn't do much grooming, always being on the move, rarely having time to clean up properly.

Reed’s eyes are deep set, hazel green in color and surrounded by smile lines. The man has a friendly smile, although it rarely shows, his lips pressed tight to keep his face unapproachable.

On the side of Reed’s neck, three dark scars trail, a permanent cut in his right ear, and three dark gashes trailing down his neck and ending where his shoulder begins. There's other scars on the man’s body, but that is the most obvious one.

As for clothing, Reed dresses dark, wearing worn jeans under a pair of black leather chaps, dark colored cotton shirts and on colder days, a black scout jacket, lined with sheepskin on the inside. Around his neck is always a red bandana, tied to cover his neck, and when needed, pulled up to cover his face. On his head, he carries a black gambler hat, a silver chain surrounding the brim, and his boots have a similar style, black and simple, with silver details.

~Personality~
Reed has always been a free spirit, impossible to chain down in a single place. He’s always on the move, never staying long enough to make any real connections yet seeming to know people everywhere he goes.

He’s a man of few words, yet always polite. Despite the rough exterior saying otherwise, he’s a good-hearted person deep down, always lending a helping hand to those in need when possible. He is selfish though, because when push comes to shove, he has always chosen himself first.

The man has a darker sense of humor for sure, meaning he’s definitely not everyone's cup of tea. His humor is cruel and his way of speaking is short and direct, but you can give him one thing and that is the fact that he doesn't sugar coat things, he tells it as it is, like it or not.

Reed pays no mind to what others think of him, he's always chosen his own path in life, with little to no regard for other peoples thoughts and opinions, he cares about himself and takes care of himself first, always has.

~Strengths~

Physical strength ~ Years on the trails and a life of hard work has made sure that the man is strong, pair that with someone who also can handle himself in a fight, and you have Reed.

Wood carving ~ To fill his free time and lonely moments, Reed has taught himself wood carving, often carving small sculptures.

Hunting ~ Due to necessity, Reed had to learn to track and hunt prey in order to survive and it took time before he even got decent at it but now he's gotten very talented at it.

~Weaknesses~

Settling down ~ Throughout the years he’s attempted to settle down a few times, getting steady jobs and a place to stay but his heart always calls for the trails. He loves a life of adrenaline and no responsibilities, always running from one place to another. He’s greedy really, and that is the biggest problem, it’s not enough for him to have a stable and well paying job, he always wants more, more money, more excitement, and more freedom, more of everything.

Loner ~ With the life he lives, it’s not optimal to do it alone but Reed has never been much of a team player. He’s joined paths with other outlaws and gangs throughout the years, but always slipping away after a while, he wants to do things his own way and the only way that is possible, is to do it alone.

Bad hearing ~ Years of being around gun fire and other kinds of explosions, has left the man with a bad hearing, his ears ringing near constantly, making it a bit hard for him to hear, especially in loud settings, or when trying to hear lower sounds.

~Affiliations~

Magdalene Clinton ~ Ex-girlfriend/Mother of his child
Status ~ Deceased

Brandy Clinton ~ Son
Status ~ Alive

Bach ~ Mount
A stocky grey Quarter horse with grey dapples on his back and hind end, black legs and a mix of black and grey for his mane and tail. The stallion is always ready for work and has a good head, a calm temper and is steady on his feet.

~Other~
I was procrastinating and therefore, I started making him a playlist: Reed

Deceased, return to sender

Those four words had been etched into the mind of the man, he had read them over and over, not taking his eyes off the letter since he had left the post office behind. The whole way back to camp, he had just been staring quietly at the letter, letting his horse take the lead.

It wasn't true.

It simply couldn't be true.

Magdalaine couldn't be dead, she had been fine, at least that's what she had said in her last letter. She had always been healthy so how she could be dead was beyond him. He had insisted it was a mistake, but the man at the postal office had assured him it wasn't.

Everett Hunter, going by, and more commonly know as, Reed Wilder was an older man, he was starting to get up there in age at least. His entire life had been spent on the roads, traveling from place to place, taking what he wanted and running from those who tried to stop him.

There had only been one constant in his life since the age of 23 and that was Magdalene and Brandy. The woman he had almost loved, and their son. No matter where he had been in the country, he had always made sure to stay in contact with Maggie, or at the very least send her some money every now and then. She had been the one to step up, the one who stayed when Reed only wanted to run.

They could have had a good life, had his love for her been stronger than his love for freedom. Reed had always been a greedy person, but he had tried to chain himself when Maggie had told him she was pregnant.

The two had met during a time where Reed was staying low, he had taken a job as a ranch hand while hiding from the law. Maggie had been the daughter of the neighbor, her parents never having approved of their relationship, deeming him not good enough for their daughter.

When Maggie had revealed she was pregnant, the two had ran, Reed having had money saved away getting them a place, a small and simple one but the one they would call home. He had tried, he really had tried to stay. Life was good, as good as it could be for a young couple running from their past, Maggie from judging parents, and Reed from the law.

Had he stayed put, things could have worked out, during the pregnancy and the first 2 years of their sons life, he had done everything to stay, but the more time that passed, the more restless he grew, staying in line had gotten harder and harder, having regular jobs didn't pay enough, not enough for a good life, and not enough to satisfy his own greed.

It had been easy to slip back into old patterns, disappearing a week or two before returning with money a man of his status should never be able to acquire. Maggie had know, his past was something he had never kept secret, but for a long time she seemed to turn a blind eye to it, telling him to just never bring the trouble with him to the house.

It went on like that for some time, the periods away growing longer and longer, his stays at the house growing shorter and further apart. It wasn't that he didn't want to see their son grow up, but more so that he felt the only way he could contribute anything, was with money, money he couldn't make sitting at the house.

Things had been good that way, at least in Reed’s eyes, until that one summer evening. He had returned home, Magdalene on the porch with her arms crossed, she had been the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, no matter how angry she had been, he had only seen beauty on her face. The house had been turned upside down in his absence, bounty hunters having came knocking, looking for Reed.

That was the last time he had ever been allowed to step foot in that house, Maggie had sent him away, and with good reason, to protect their son. Reed had tried getting her to move, not wanting to risk that someone else would come knocking but she had refused. The woman had been far from those delicate and soft women you so often saw in the cities, she was stubborn and tough and when she had made up her mind, there was nothing he could say or do, she had wanted to stay in the house they had called home together, and he was not about to convince her otherwise, he would never have been able to.

What he feared now, was that that decision was the reason for her death.

While playing memories from the past, Reed had at some point reached his small camp, and as if moving on auto pilot, had begun packing up. He had to get to the house, that was the only thing that mattered now.

As he swung back into the saddle of his stallion, Bach, he was sure he had left some things behind, his eyes sweeping over the camp site, but not really taking anything in. It wasn't important, what was important was getting to his son, his and Maggie's son.

He already feared the worst, that someone had come looking for him, or information on him, and that’s why Maggie was no longer with them, but what he didn't know, was if Brandy had met the same fate, if he had, then lord help the person responsible.

If the boy was alive though, it was even more of a race against the clock. He knew Maggie had raised a good kid, she was the most wonderful parent one could have asked for, taking on the role of both mother and father when Reed had left, there was no doubt in his mind that the boy could handle himself, but legally, the boy was an orphan now, and he was not about to let some nuns come and try to take his son to the orphanage, or risk anything worse.

Bach’s hooves beat rhythmically against the ground, Reed stearing to grey without thinking. No matter how far away he traveled, he would always know the way back to that little house. It was time for him to do what he should have done 16 years ago, it was time to finally leave his past behind him and become the father he should have been years ago, even though it might be too late now.

~

It had been nearly two days since he had gone to the post office to send that letter, only to be served with his last sent one and those dreaded four words. He had been far out this time, two days was record time really, but it came at a price, Bach’s steps beginning to feel heavy as they approached the house, Reed himself feeling how his body begged for sleep, only having recieved 2 hours in the night. The most important thing on his mind had been getting here, that had been the one thing pushing him.

Upon reaching the house, he slid off the stallion’s back and for the first time since he started this journey, he felt on edge, a lump in his throat as he approached the door, the question he had refused to acknowledge playing on repeat in his head, What do you do if he’s not there?

Removing his hat from on top of his head and holding it against his chest, Reed lifted his other hand and knocked on the wooden door, “Brandy?” He called out, listening for any movement, “It’s me, Everett, your father,” he added after a brief pause. The words felt foreign on his tongue, he rarely used his legal name anymore, and calling himself a father, he felt as if he had given that right away the day Maggie had told him to leave, but he didn't know what else he could say, he was the boy’s father, wether anyone wanted to claim otherwise or not.

The man stood quietly outside the door, listening for another moment, waiting for a sound, anything. The lump in his throat grew, panic creeping in that his worst fear was true, that Brandy was gone too.

Reed glanced back at his horse, watching Bach peacefully nibble at some strands of grass. Oh to be a horse, the biggest worry in life being when and what they’d get to eat next.

He didn't want to go in. He truly didn't. The moment he pushed that door open, whatever might have had happened in there would become reality. If he turned around now and left, he could forget about it, he could force himself to forget, he wanted to, oh how he desperately wanted to, it's what he had done all life, leave when things got to complicated.

He couldn't bring himself to turn his back to that house once more though, not when he knew that his son might be in there, he had to face this, he just had to. If it was as he feared, this was all his fault, his mess.

With a heavy sigh and a hand on the revolver on his hip, Reed tried the door handle, not locked. That was already a bad sign.

The older man pushed the door open and took a step inside, muddy foot prints stained the floor, leading further inside.

“Brandy..?” He called out again as he moved forward, stepping past a door that laid flat on the ground, into the kitchen where reality truly hit him, his hands fell to his side as he stood taking in the state of the place, blood and dinner smearing the surfaces of the kitchen, their kitchen, the place they had cooked dinner together countless times, where Maggie had danced and laughed with him.

He had loved her, and that had been the reason for her demise. He had no doubt in his mind that this had happened because of him. Men were animals, to kill a woman like Maggie just to find him was nothing but animalistic.

Hearing a sob, the man was pulled out of his mind, hand instinctively going back to his hip, fingers curling around the cold metal of his revolver as he began to move further into the house.

He needed to leave, in case Magdalene’s murder came back, but not without finding son, making sure he was safe. This was his fault, he had left the boy without a father for majority of his life, and now his mother was gone.

He stepped out of the kitchen, his eyes locking onto the frame of the boy. It had been years since he had last seen him, and even when he couldn't see his face, there was no doubt in his mind, it was him, Maggie’s boy.

Relief washed over him to see that he had made it, and uncharacteristically enough, he dropped his guard, any thoughts of hurrying out of here, he just closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around the boy. Reed, the man that never hugged anyone just held his son, relieved to not have lost him too.

“I'm sorry son, I'm sorry…” he mumbled, rubbing Brandy’s arm with unusual gentleness. “It’s gonna be alright now.”

He didn't know how much Brandy had seen of what had happen, hell he didn't even know if he recognized him, if his words had any meaning, but he was so happy to see him alive and breathing. In that moment, that was all that mattered now.

Reed held the boy tightly back, rubbing his back gently and listening to him, just silently waiting for the boy to settle down slightly.

“I’m sorry I wasn't here…” he mumbled, his voice gruff in an attempt to hide his actual emotions, but he had failed them, he hadn't been able to keep Maggie safe, the only thing he could do now was protect their son.

“We're leaving,” he declared after a moment, “It ain't safe to stay here. We’ll find a new place, far away from all this trouble, it's gonna be okay, I’m not leaving ya again,” he said, and he meant it, there was no way he would ever let Brandy out of his sight.

He had thought that by leaving them, they would be safe, that no one would bother them, but oh how wrong he had been.

The man waited before gently pulling back to properly look at his son, a saddened smile on his lips, “You’ve gotten big,” he said, ruffling the boy’s hair affectionately.

Now wasn't the time for him to think about all his past mistakes. They couldn't afford for him to dwell on past mistakes now, he couldn't change the past but he could give his son a future.

“We gotta get moving, you never know if they’ll come back… Pack the essentials, anything else we can get new once we’ve settled, yeah?” He smiled gently, it was hard to try and act calm and reassuring after having seen the aftermath of what had happened in the kitchen.

“Ya still got that horse of yours? I’ll go out and get em ready while you grab your things,” the man said. He wanted out of here, sooner rather than later. He had seen blood and acts of violence plenty of times, he wasn't usually fazed by it, but the knowledge that the dried blood in the kitchen belonged to Maggie, it made him sick, he didn't want to stay in this house longer than necessary, and he also didn't want that his son should have to stay here much longer. He could only imagine what the boy had gone through and the only way for him to move on would be away from here.