Lucile Mason | 27 | Female | Ex-Member of Red’s Gang |

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Having left her enveloped letter on the dresser, Lucile had decided to dress herself, even though she had been planning to not change clothes, to keep busy for at least a while longer. She now wore a tidy red button-up shirt, long dark brown pants, and boots that matched similar to a vest she normally wore overtop her shirt, but at the moment she left it neatly in her bag, not wanting to get it too dirty. A pistol in her holster and a rifle around her back. Finishing the last of what she wanted to do, Lucile picked back up her bag and found a comfortable place between two books to put her letter, rummaging through it a moment longer and pulling out a small key. The key that would open the lock she’d placed on her door the night before to keep those unwanted out. Setting her satchel back down on the bed next to her coat, she picked up her hat and placed it on top of her head.

Lucile took a second to look herself over in the mirror again, before sighing. This was it huh? To be shot or not to be shot? That was the question. Still holding her key in her hand, she turned and looked around the room before carefully stepping her way over to the cracked wooden door. Planting herself in front of it, she reached out for the rusty lock she’d put there the night before, turning the key inside and waiting for the quiet click of the lock undoing. Once she’d had it off, she stuffed the lock and key into her back pocket and looked back to the doorknob. For a moment she hesitated, before slowly turning it and opening the door. Cautiously peering out into the still dark hallway, at first she thought that nobody else might be awake yet, till she heard something around the corner and her head immediately whipped around to find the source. One of the young boys from yesterday was a few feet down the hall, making his way towards the end. That Del boy. The one with my watch.

For a second Lucile’s eyes narrowed, before softening again. He's just a boy, don’t get cocky. The woman reassured herself a moment before taking in a deep breath and slowly moving from the room, closing the door behind her and following after Del silently. She needed the watch back from him, wanted the watch back from him. Obviously, she wasn't going to take it from him by force, hitting a child wasn’t something she liked doing. But if she could convince him to give it back, maybe even trade something for it, anything. It really shouldn’t have been as important as it felt, after everything that happened, and yet she still yearned to keep it as close as possible.

Her eyes narrowed again as she moved through the hallway, swiftly and stilly like a phantom. She hardly tried to hide herself, instead moving right down the middle of the hallway and only stopping to find cover when the boy stopped. Though she wanted the watch back as soon as possible she was curious to see what he was trying to find, or who he was trying to find. It was likely the women they’d been with before, wherever they were in the house, though she couldn’t be sure. For all Lucile knew they’d all stayed in the same room, since she hadn’t stuck around long enough to find out. When he’d reached the last door, Lucile froze in place and stayed quiet, watching. Something had to be in there that he didn’t like though, because half a step in he suddenly froze as well and started frantically whispering something.

Lucile moved forward a bit, just close enough to hear what the boy was saying. Someone uninvited is here... Moving into a corner she tried to find herself a spot where she could see into the room from a distance when her eye caught the sight of a floral-patterned pink and red dress and blond hair. The passed-out woman from before…

Lucile smirked, peeking around the corner again, just enough that only half her face and the tip of her hat were visible. Slowly she pulled her revolver from its holster, hearing the familiar click of a loaded pistol and then pointing it upwards, just past the boy and at the woman. She was stunning, indeed, but Lucile didn’t condone pulling a gun on a child, or whatever seemed to be happening in there. Those who were sleeping she didn’t care as much about, but for the young boys' safety, she would try and protect them as well. Who the woman in the floral dress was, or why she was here, was none of Lucile’s concern at the very moment. If things went by smoothly she’d figure it out later, but right now, half hidden behind a corner with her gun drawn and loaded, Lucile waited to see the outcome of this situation, and whether or not she’d have to fully intervene.

Aiden | 18 | Male | Member

Everything was on fire and Aiden was standing at the center of it all.

Like the other kids in the soon-to-be-burning building, Aiden did not have a last name. He had joined the orphanage about five years ago, when he was six, and the only reason he had a first name to begin with was that he had a name on the tag of his coat. Some of the other kids did not come with any name at all, causing them to whisper with jealousy and envy— gnashing and gnawing their teeth with gossip— as he passed them in the halls or sat on the other side of the cafeteria.

Spite turned to anger when Aiden revealed he did not even remember anything about having parents or if Aiden was even really his name.

“I cannot believe him! He’s such a lunkhead!”

Aiden looked up from his near empty plate of food to the table across the room from him. Sarah, the red-head with pigtails, her army of dolls, and freckles, lead the conversation and Aiden could instantly tell it was about him as both Joshua and Peter glanced back at him and snickered.

“I woulda never forgotten my momma and dadda if I had one. I’d be a goldang just to have one!”

“Of course Aiden doesn’t remember. That’s Aiden for ya.”

“You know what? I bet he’s probably just lyin’. Knowing that pinhead, his parents probably didn’t love him!”

“You’re probably right! No one ever would give a damn about—”

“Joshua, Sarah, and Peter, do not use words like that in a house of God.”

“Sorry Sister Florence…”

Sister Florence never gave a fuck about what any of the other boys or girls said about Aiden because she too thought they were true as event in the way she wielded her ruler around him. Aiden used his left hand too much and that alone was enough for Sister Florence to hate him. Her stepping in that day to stop their conversation was only a result of the swearing, but he could feel her eyes on them as if asking— begging— for Joshua, Sarah, and Peter to continue to berate Aiden.

Aiden’s eyes fell down onto his lap as his hands tightened on his pants and his lip trembled. Maybe if he squeezed his eyes tight enough, he could just disappear entirely. Aiden instantly tested this idea as he choked back a sob. His thoughts rang out with the word ‘disappear’ over and over and over again. Disappear, disappear, disappear. The chanting grew louder as he heard Frank, Rosa, Bertha, and Issac’s chanting along with him. They all wanted him to disappear too. Disappear, disappear, disappear. Nothing happened.

Aiden felt a hand on his shoulder and his head snapped up.

“Don’t worry ‘bout them, Aiden,” Julie whispered as she smiled with a big toothy grin, her front tooth missing but not her kindness. “They are just annoying windbags. They’ll leave ya alone soon enough.”

They would not.

“They will learn to love you the same way I do!”

They would not.

“One of these days, things will get better, and we will teach them all a lesson!”

That had been far from the last time something like this had happened and things did not get any better.

“Why—” Henry struck Aiden in the stomach with his foot— “do you—” and again— “get to be happy??” Henry slammed his foot down on the boy’s ribs, causing a small whimper and cough to escape him. “You had the family that none of us did and you don’t even remember them!” Aiden could see Henry’s eyes and fists were red with tears and blood respectively. Curling into a tighter ball, Aiden hugged his ribs and shut his eyes tightly. “It’s not fair!”

“I-I’m so— I’m sorry that—”

“Shut up, shut up!!” Henry slammed his heel into Aiden’s stomach, forcing what little the boy had in his stomach to rise up his throat and spill out his mouth. Aiden could not move his head let alone his broken body and had to remain unmoving from the greenish-yellow and chunky liquid that he vomited. Henry removed his foot from the boy’s stomach as he recoiled in disgust. Suddenly, distant giggles from the two female spectators erupted.

“Ewww, he is sooo gross, Sarah! He’s just laying in it!”

“Gee, you’d think he was a pig!”

“Oh my God, you’re right! He’s just like a little piggy!” Sarah approached with a giggle, giving a little dainty kick to the boy’s face that was not nearly as hard as Henry’s abuse. “Come on, say it! Say you’re a little piggy!”

Aiden opened his mouth, but blood spilled out. Everything was going fuzzy, even the pain feeling distant. As his vision finally started to grow black and his eyes felt heavy, Aiden felt his head being pulled up by the hair on his head. The pain was sharp enough that Aiden could not possibly pass out under these conditions. His eyes would not focus on who was ahead of him and he could only whine weakly.

“Say it.”

It was not Sarah’s voice; it was Nike’s. His body burned with shame as he started to shake. Nike was kind but honest. She had been there from the moment Aiden joined the gang when he turned twelve. She had supported him through everything. She had no ulterior motives, no desire to cause unnecessary harm, but an aura that left anyone incapable of disobeying her. Aiden tried to though, he tried to say no, to disobey her and he was punished harshly for it. Aiden’s head was shoved harshly back down into his own puke.

“If you can’t admit what the fuck you are, maybe you don’t even deserve to breathe.”

Aiden’s eyes were finally fully working now upon the threat of death, his arms weakly flailing about as he tried to push himself up, but Nike’s arm was too strong and the floor was too slick with his own blood and vomit. The heels of his hands slipped the moment he tried to push himself up, scraping against the sharp wood and already feeling a shard of wood lodging itself in his left thumb. His lungs burned for air and he felt himself grow lightheaded. The moment he thought it was over— that he was about to die— his hair was yanked upwards again, allowing him to gasp for air.

“Say it, piggy.”

“I’m… I-I’m a little piggy…”

“And what do piggy’s say?”

“Oink.”

“Again.”

“Oi-Oink, oink.”

Sarah’s and that other girl’s— Olivia, was it?— shrill laughter filled his ears. Even Henry seemed amused.

“Oh my God, look at how pathetic! He really said it!”

“It’s what a shithead like him should be saying.”

“Henry, don’t say that while we’re in church!”

Aiden could not help but give a weak chuckle (more like a sigh of amusement) at the irony of Olive’s words. Beating Aiden was fine but God forbid they swear?

“The hell’s so funny, piggy??” Henry barked, delivering a kick to his spine. This instantly shut Aiden up. “I wanna know whatever kicker was that you were smirking about, you—”

“Shoot, that crazy freak’s coming this way!” It sounded like Joshua’s voice, but had he really just been watching the whole time? Aiden would not have been surprised. Hell, he would not have been surprised if everyone, from Benny who just turned four to Clarissa who was going on sixteen, were there to watch him suffer.

“Come on! We gotta bounce!” Ollia hissed, tugging on Sarah’s arm.

Aiden could distantly hear several pairs of feet scrambling away and out of the room, but Aiden could not care less. Julie began calling him, but she felt so distant. Even her nudging and shaking him did not feel real in the slightest.

Aiden could not keep his eyes open any longer.

Then he heard an eruption of screams.

It was as if all the pain instantly was numbed as he was brought to another memory, one where he was resting in the bed of the nursery wing in the church as the building’s walls were engulfed in flame. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest as he scrambled to his feet and stumbled to the door. The smoke stole the air from his lungs, causing him to cough in order to try and rid himself of the burning feeling in his chest. With the door just out of reach, Aiden could not help but let out a broken whimper as his toe stubbed on a loose floorboard and he tumbled to the ground. Looking back at his legs, he realized that they were bandaged and bruised, barely able to help support his own weight from some previous injury that he did not remember. Aiden had no real choice though. Standing on his now shaking legs, Aiden reached out for the door and—

Crash!

From above, a massive support beam fell just inches from him, sending up sparks and a wave of heat that caused Aiden to stumble back.

“No… please no…,” Aiden prayed, but it was all too real. A beam had blocked off his only reachable exit, bending the door just enough that it splintered and gave him a window to the other side of it.

Through the hole, he witnessed Henry half-carrying a weak child while Peter and Sarah scrambled out of the building behind him, sobbing and gagging on the thick, black air. Sister Florence followed, taking the rear of the three of them as she seemed to be motioning for other children to follow. A look of desperation and distress on her face was uncanny compared to her calm, collected self who almost never showed off any emotions whatsoever. The fire from the beam was growing higher and hotter, making sweat drip down his neck, but he reached through the hole in the door and tried to wave for her attention, not caring how much it burned to be close to the flaming beam.

“S-Sister! I’m in here! Please, please the door— It won’t— I can’t—”

“Aiden?” Aiden pulled his hand away and out of the hole as soon as she acknowledged him. A smile of hope appeared on his expression until he was able to peer through the hole and see hers. “You! You must have caused this!!” She scrambled for something in her pocket as Aiden had turned pale.

“I didn’t— Sister please! I didn’t do nothin’! I—”

“Liar!” She thrust her holy cross out of her pocket and brandished it like a sword as she walked towards him. “You’re the spawn of Satan! I should have known when you came to the orphanage because of the devilish burns on your body!”

“Wh-What? But I— Sister Florence, I— Please, I would never do it…!” Aiden’s words broke off into coughs and sobs as he fell to his knees, unable to support himself as the nun continued to scream at him.

“Return from the Hell from whence you came, Lucifer! No son of Satan will be allowed to walk this Earth any longer after what you did!”

“I didn’t do it…! Pl-Please, listen never did a damn—”

“You did everything Aiden,” Jacob hissed.

Whipping around for the source of the sound, Aiden audibly gasped as he saw the mangled corpses of his fallen friends crawling towards him, Jacob’s with a bullet lodged in his head.

“You caused this.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no!”

Blood gushed from Jacob’s eyes as splinters dug under his fingernails from the force of which he was crawling towards Aiden, scraping his body against the sharp floor.

“You could have fixed this.”

“J-Just stop already!”

More beams fell from above, crushing the others and causing Bertha’s eyeball to partially roll toward Aiden and Issac’s brain matter to splatter on his legs. Even though a beam also fell on Jacob, it only crushed his waist and legs, allowing him to detach part of his body at the cost of losing his blood and intestines on the floor and under the beam.

“This—” Jacob grabbed only the shaking legs of Aiden and pulled himself closer— “is all—” Jacob crawled across Aiden even as the boy pressed into the smoldering beam in a weak and painful attempt to get away— “your—” Jacob dug his nails into Aiden’s face as he stared at him with scorn and hatred— “fault!”

Aiden woke up quickly and barely had enough time to grapple onto a pillow and stuff it into his chest before he burst into loud and ugly sobs. Beating his fist into the pillow, he had to bite into it from screaming out in guilt, anger, and sadness.

“Slicker” | 21 | Male | Member

Three words.

Not a chuckle at his joke, not a response to his words, just a goodbye— no, not even that!

He just said to ‘stay safe.’

Stay safe? Maybe Slicker was being bitter, but part of him did not want to be safe just to get William to say something— anything— else. Slicker was being selfish. He knew this fully. Demanding attention like a baby in a crib, a whore in a brothel, or a whining mutt was all selfish behavior from someone who slept with his best friend— maybe even his only friend if the others were dead. William was right; Slicker was a damn dog, not even human, looking for scraps, but overall, an unloved mutt that probably deserved to be taught its place.

In spite of this, Slicker still found himself being greedy, wanting William to turn back around, to say something, but most of all to deny the truth. The truth that this was all happening because of Slicker’s poor decisions. Not just the poor decisions from last night, but from making such a flawed plan that took the lives of his friends, Frank, Rosa, Issac, and probably everyone else, the choice of robbing that bank and not just sticking to their smaller heists as usual, and of joining the gang to begin with and cursing them with his misfortune. It was egotistical to be asking for easy, comforting lies and he knew it. Slicker had decided to recast his entire life in a lie as it was more comforting and it was easier, but the truth made him out to be the villain did it not? Maybe that was why Slicker was so desperate for William’s lies or his acknowledgement.

Slicker watched the back of William’s head for a moment longer before a sour huff, more like a disappointed sigh, left his lips.

Standing, Slicker heard the bed give a creaky groan from the release of pressure. Bending down, Slicker fumbled his way into his pants with one hand while grabbing his gun holster with the other. With his holster between his teeth, he did up his fly. His belt clinked softly together as he cinched it, and Slicker pat his pockets down till he was sure he had his cigarettes in one pocket, checking over at William briefly in hopes the man would open his mouth. His eyebrows twitched with slight annoyance, his old habit of eyebrow twitching making an appearance as always, as he fashioned his holster on and messily tucked in his shirt before grabbing his vest and slinging that on as well. Slipping on his boots, Slicker checked over his shoulder one last time though much more briefly as he made his way to the exit.

Grabbing the cold metal handle, Slicker was taken aback by the bright light of the hallway with a much more sun and candle-lit appearance. Slicker was just going to push through the light, but with his hangover and sudden wave of guilt, it made it hard to leave the doorway.

“For… For what it’s worth,” Slicker mumbled, a soft chuckle in his tone, “I don’t think I can stay safe. I have just too big ova’ mouth for that!” Slicker paused, a smirk on his lips even knowing William would not be able to see it. “I’ll still try, of course, but I ain’t makin’ ya any promises like that, pretty boy.”

~~~

Slicker’s posture was noticeably worse even from yesterday. His shoulders were slouched a bit further forward last night than the usual confident position he took on but today he looked two inches shorter. His stride was slower and his right leg would occasionally drag behind, causing him to stumble and trip over himself. Having drunk that much last night was not helping his situation, as it felt like walking was both a chore and a blinding nightmare. With the sounds of people only growing louder, he could tell that his headache would only increase.

As soon as he finished the somewhat treacherous journey down the stairs, nearly tumbling to his doom because of his lousy feet and only surviving because he caught the handrail, Slicker’s eyes scanned the tavern, only a few people scattered about, passed out on bar stools, chatting with waitresses, or sitting calmly, waiting for Slicker. Upon locking eyes with Roxie and Ollie, he instantly felt like they probably hated him. Of course, neither had any clue of what he and William did, he hoped, but getting near blackout drunk on their first meeting was far from the proper introduction to Jacob’s gang. Slicker’s be skinned alive if Jacob were here now. And if he were alive…

“Alright, Ima apologize right now,” Slicker mused as he sat down at their table, practically collapsing into the chair as he leaned his head as far back as it would go to stare at the ceiling and anything but the two of them. “Coulda drank a little less and been a little more chatty with—” Slicker gave a slight hand-wavy motion in Roxie and Ollie’s general direction— “ya uppity newcomers, buuut you gotta get used to the excessive drinking at our camp. If you can handle us drinking at our worst, the rest will be a cinch.” Slicker chuckled before swinging his head forward. With how little control he felt over his own body and how heavy his head felt, he was surprised it did not roll right off his neck. After picking his head up and supporting it by leaning his cheek on his fist and his elbow on the table, Slicker gave them a crooked smile with sympathetic eyes. “Again though, sorry ya had to see us at our worst, but at least your expectations can only go up from here right?” Slicker turned his head towards his hand with a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose, his smile fading. “William’s outta commission— yesterday really took it outta him— but I can get to work if ya have another family member ya need me helping with.” Slicker managed to pick himself back up and look up from his hands at Ollie with a smile. “You said your brother— cousin? Something or other— needed help hunting? Well, if I’m gettin’ paid, I’ll do it.”

| Ollie Bright | 31 | Male| Ex-Member of Red’s Gang |

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Ollie had troubles sleeping over the past two weeks, but nothing felt as bad as this did. Aching bones, blistered arms, but worst of all, Slicker and William. The physical wounds might have hurt but he sure as hell didn’t appreciate whatever those two had been doing half the night. The man had already been half sleep-deprived, but this really was the cherry on top.

How long would it be before he finally got to rest peacefully again, without having to toss and turn because his arms hurt or because the assholes in the next room were being extremely noisy? However long it’d be he didn’t know, but by Christmas he hoped there’d at least be something good made of this. Maybe two months was too short of a time limit, but he surely wasn’t going to let them stay in any shit hole. If there wasn’t any improvement, he’d give up. Move away. Leave this damned place behind.

If that was even possible. Leave? Already tried. Twice. He’d probably never leave. Never leave PurePoint, nor Harmony’s Bank, nor DeadDrop mountain. He’d be here till he grew to dust, or got shot. If Ollie’s death was anything, he knew it’d be something stupid, though fitting.

One rough trip down the stairs later, he and Roxie had been sitting and eating for whoever knows how long. He’d been slow, taking his time, waiting patiently for the two dunces above to get up. A hard-boiled egg and sausage mix was about all they could get with what the saloon had, but it wasn’t too bad. It was edible at least, and at the moment that was good enough for him. Roxie seemed a lot more excitable then he thought she was going to be after drinking that much whiskey. She wasn’t sick at all, which at this point didn’t surprise him. Sometimes she seemed to drink that shit like water. But he knew the real reason she seemed so happy. Sarah. Ashley had mentioned her the other day, coming to the saloon to help restock. Sarah was nice; Just shy, and maybe a little strange. But at the moment he wasn’t too worried about that.

He was more concerned about the two upstairs, what they were going to do when they got down here, if they ever got down here. He had there jobs in mind, and though he knew they’d have no trouble with Vincent, Avery wasn’t exactly the brightest bit of sunshine. More like a gloomy raincloud waiting to put a damper on somebody’s day. But it turns out he wouldn’t have to worry about that, because Slicker came stumbling down the stairs.

Ollie’s immediate reaction wasn’t too special. He didn’t move at all, just sat there quietly and stared, his expression still dreary. Roxie on the other hand smiled and gave him a little wave. Gwynn and Sadie were near their feet, laying somewhat under the table, though when Slicker approached Gwynn was quick to get up, sitting down next to Ollie and watching him from just above the table.

Roxie and Ollie both listened to what he had to say, before they took their turn. “My brother.” Ollie sighed quietly, “yes yes, Vincent needs somebody to help him. When your ready to leave I’ll take you to see him about it. My brother is nice. Everyone likes him and he likes everyone, so don’t worry what he thinks about you… And about William, I do not care what he does. As long as he isn’t getting into any trouble.”

“Roxie will be in the saloon most of the day, probably, helping restock with— well, her friend.” he glanced over at her, and Roxie grinned. “So if he needs anything shes here. And to bring back your apology from earlier, I don’t care. Simply, I don’t care. I don’t drink, I don’t fool around. I sit, I read, I write, I do cartography. That is all I do and I do not care what you do, as long as you can back yourself up, like I can myself. I am always at my worst. I am an asshole. Remeber that and I think we’ll get along just fine. Also—” he paused, his eyes gaining a least bit of life, “I don’t like loud noise. Remember that too. Do what you like, when I’m not in the room next to you, please and thank you.”

He let out another sigh before his head fell to his arms. He didn’t sound angry or disgusted, just tired, humiliated. Roxie now turned to Slicker, still grinning slyly. “Don’t worry about him, while what he says is mostly true hes really not that bad. Or at least, I can deal with him. Oo, but I’m curious what hes been talking about with that last one, care to explain?~”

“Slicker” | 21 | Male | Member

Ollie and Roxie, looking so happy to see him, were kind enough to keep their voices down as his mind seemed to create a sound equivalent to a crack of thunder with each word. Mumbling a bit under his breath about how ‘damn bright’ the room was as Ollie responded, Slicker could not help but glance under and across the table to the two dogs.

The two sat contently by their owner, one with their tongue lolled out of their mouth and the other staring absentmindedly at Slicker. They were adorable to say the least. The two dogs, which Slicker recognized were girls with a quick glance, could not be more dissimilar unless one were red and the other were blue. The one with her tongue sticking out had pointy, attentive ears and a face that begged for attention and play while the other was solely focused on her owner yet looked like every aspect of her, from her face to her skin and fur was drooping like dripping wax. For some reason, Slicker felt all the more reason to hold and love the hound for just how tired she seemed. Then again, despite their appearances, both seemed to share a cold, cruel heart for not so much as inching over in Slicker’s direction for allowing him to pet them. Maybe this was just due to their extreme loyalty, but Slicker’s clear logic was undercut by the idea that maybe… just maybe… it was because even dogs knew how shitty he was.

Then he realized he had not been listening in the slightest to what Ollie had been saying.

“Okay so… For work,” Slicker mumbled with a confused nod, “I am just gonna follow you and pray you get me there.” Slicker smiled as if that would make it better. It did not, but it was an effort.

Ollie then continued, stating how Slicker would have to put up with how much of an asshole Ollie was and all this nonsense. Slicker was glad he seemed laid back at least. And reading… Ollie must have had a lot of books if he mentioned just how much he liked to read. Maybe one of these nights he could steal a book from him…

At the mention of the complaint about the sound, however, Slicker knew exactly what he meant. He was not an idiot and William was not exactly quiet. Still… it was odd how lax about the situation Ollie seemed. It almost seemed like he would not mind if Slicker had spent the night with William.

But Slicker would not take any chances. Not again.

Feigning ignorance, Slicker tilted his head slightly and raised an eyebrow. He looked to the upper corner of the room as he seemed to think things over until Roxie pried. As Roxie asked her questions, Slicker’s eyes widened with foe realization before bursting into laughter. Slicker was always good at pretending wasn’t he?

“Oh my God, this is too good!” Slicker threw his head back and was laughing so hard that his head felt like a lightning storm. Partly this was due to his original lie needing to be reworked in order to fit this new information he was given as well as the fact that seemingly only poor Ollie heard. “Oh my, I am so sorry that was not meant for you Ollie!” Slicker had a huge smile on his face as he turned and looked at Roxie. “Normally, I would tease this lad for being about as tight as a nun, but this is my fault for wanting to pull a joke on you. Let me explain.” Slicker sat more comfortable in his chair as he draped his arm on the back of it. With his other hand, Slicker took off his hat and placed it on the table.

“In my gang, we have a bunch of rowdy guys who all are pretty good at wooin’ the ladies. Problem is, we spend a lot of time around younger battleaxes who would lob our heads off if we dared flirt with ‘em. So, to have a bit of fun and keep up our skills, we like to mess around with each other to keep ourselves on our toes in case we come across a real looker or knockout—” Slicker turned to Ollie with a smirk— “like that pretty girl who served us last night. Your sister, right? Guess looks really do run in the family then, ey?~” Slicker could not help but chuckle at his own joke before waving the man off before he had a chance to speak. “Anyway, back to ma point, when Roxie over here was picking on us for goofing off, I made a great plan. Stupid plan, now as I look back on it, but it was goddamn brilliant in my lushed mind! I told William when we got up to our room that we should pull an old joke on Roxie to really get her gears grinding by making the most ridiculous and scandalous sounds we could think of. Honestly, I was surprised you never came over to stop us, but now it makes all the more sense!” Slicker snickered as he shook his head before glancing back to Ollie with seemingly genuine pity in his eyes. “Damn, now I am just sad that you put up with all of it and said nothing till now. What? Did ya seriously think we were shaggin’ or somethin’? Awww poor Ollie must have had a long night then!~” Slicker was barely restraining even more laughter as that pity was replaced with malice. Finally collecting himself, Slicker sighed and shook his head. “Alright then, I’ve picked on you enough. I think it’s ‘bout time I start work, huh?”

Alice An Taylor | 27 | Female | Civilian

Her heart felt like it was being squeezed at inopportune times by the devil, so much so that the uneven beats made her hands shake. Alice finally managed to pull the gun out of the woman’s holster and stumbled back away from her instantly. Alice backed away from her like a dog about to lash out, yet the beast did not seem to stir. Finally, she managed to find her breath, staring down at the pistol in slight horror. She did not know what to do with it. Why the fuck would she? She had never held a gun before this very moment and the very fact that the gun was not a mirage made everything all the more terrifying.

Its cold metal was surprisingly heavy in Alice’s hand. Was it supposed to be this heavy?

Creaaaak!

Alice’s head snapped in the direction of the footstep on the wooden boards and raised the pistol in an instant. Then there was a boy. He could not have been more than sixteen at most. He began to speak with a nervous voice. Alice, even in her panic, knew to lower the pistol in her hand so she was, at the very least, not aiming for the boy’s head. Maybe she was just becoming a lunatic or maybe she was hit too hard on the head, but the boy before her seemed to be… defending her kidnappers?

“I beg your pardon, but excuse me?” Alice hissed, her voice as dangerous as a rattlesnake’s. Venom laced her words as she stalked closer. “I was not planning on shooting them, thank you very much, but maybe it is a good idea not to let them have a gun while they brought me to… to—” Alice waved her hands about as she looked for the words just as much as she looked for their location— “fuck knows where!”

Alice caught herself starting to raise her voice and her whole body went still as she glanced at the sleeping bodies. After holding her breath momentarily, she assumed her safety briefly as neither of the women seemed to move. Slowly she turned back to the boy, debating the next course of action. Looking him over, there was no way that this boy was not captured by these women too. She could not help but swear under her breath as she turned away and covered her mouth in deep contemplation. She hated kids, but she would hate herself more if she did not help him.

“Don’t care how gooda people they are, we are bookin’ it while they’re still out like a light, you catch on?” Alice whispered to the boy as she grabbed his wrist. “Now let’s get out of here.”

As she dragged the boy out of the room, only to come face-to-face with yet another challenge: a man leaning against the doorframe who looked to have been watching them and another boy, who looked the same age as the boy she was holding, clenching a stick of dynamite. Alice was frozen in terror as her eyes flashed between them both.

“Hello boys… mighty fine weather we are having?” Best case scenario, she would have to use her silver tongue to get out of this damn place in the middle of nowhere. Worst case— she gripped the heavy metal in her hand— well worst case would not be so pretty.

Delaney O’Conner | 15 y/o | Male | Newcomer

As the woman moved closer to him, Del slowly started backing up, eyes searching for anything that could be used as a weapon. She didn't seem like a threat, not a big one at least, but she had a gun in her hands and most people didn't take too kindly to being kidnapped so he had every right to be worried, especially after yesterday’s events.

“Don’t care how gooda people they are, we are bookin’ it while they’re still out like a light, you catch on?”

“We..?” Delaney questioned quietly, his mind filling with questions about what was going on inside the head of this blonde. However, before he could find the words to further question the woman, she was grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him out of the room.

Del opened his mouth to shout for Esther and Vera, hoping the two women would wake up but there proved to be no need for that as the strange woman didn't get far with him, in fact they barely left the room before she came to a halt.

The black-haired boy peaked out from behind her, to his relief seeing Aiden and the man from yesterday, Sam was it? Eh, that didn't matter, all that mattered was that the woman was focused on them and not him.

He casted a glance back into the room they'd come from and then back at Aiden, debating on what would be best, waking Esther and Vera or getting over to Aiden?

After a moment's consideration, Del twisted his arm out of the woman's grip and made a quick dash over to Aiden. It wasn't his first time getting grabbed like that, usually it wasn't because someone was trying to “save” him though, rather it was for getting caught pickpocketing, or something of a similar fashion.

He figured that while the woman looked like she had no idea how to use the gun she held, she might try to if she felt too threatened and backed into a corner, and two teenage boys and one man probably seemed threatening enough for the confused woman, no need to add Esther and Vera into the mix. The Sam guy had shown himself more than a little skilled the day before so now he just had to hope that they could trust him.

“Lady’s a loony,” Del half whispered to Aiden, leaning a little closer to the older boy, “Thought Es and Vera had kidnapped me too,” he continued.

His gaze shifted from the woman to Sam briefly before looking back at the woman and mumbling to Aiden, “Think they hit 'er too hard over the head.”

Lucile Mason | 27 | Female | Ex-Member of Red’s Gang |

-

Lucile had been watching, waiting to see if she’d have to step in. She’d been looming in the shadows, pateintly and quietly. Nothing seemed to be occurring yet though, and from her slim view of the room she could tell the woman was hesitating quiet a bit. She wouldn’t shoot a kid. Lucile leaned her head back in a sigh, about to put away her revolver when she heard a creak from behind, and in a quick flash she whipped around, gun pointed towards the noise. A boy. Yes, it was one of the boys, and he seemed to be holding… a stick of dynamite.

Lucile’s first reaction to seeing the boy creeping up behind her holding dynamite was one of shock, but within only a few seconds she completely relaxed. He wouldn’t use it, couldn’t use it if he didn’t want to blow them all to high hell.

“The woman.” Lucile mouthed to him, “shes awake.” was all she whispered before she turned back around, now seeing the woman had the boy in a grasp, dragging him out of the room. Though Lucile knew already how this was going to play out. She leaned against the doorframe, a wide smirk on her lips as the woman came to a halt in front of her and Aiden.

“Hello boys… mighty fine weather we are having?”

“Surely madam.” she nodded, her smirk disappearing and her tone indifferent, “mighty fine indeed. Now, to the point,” she brushed a hand through her dark hair as she spoke, suddenly smiling strangely warmly, “I have a little bit of a soft spot for pretty ladies, but its too early for a stand off. This isn’t really necessary, now is it? Well, maybe. But we can figure that out soon. We shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves.” she looked quickly over her shoulder at Aiden and his stick of dynamite, “Now, I implore you.” her eyes darted to Del as the boy broke from the woman’s grasp and ran to Aiden’s side. At least hes out of the way. “You alright boy? Good.” she answered the question herself before Del could even get a chance to reply, before turning back to the woman. “I implore you,” she repeated to the woman, “that we could be just a little more distingushed about this, maybe we could talk about it over some wine and biscuits. So what I’m trying to say, is drop the gun.”

Lucile had dropped her own revolver right at the lady's feet, and though it might look like a stupid idea to the boys behind her, whether stupid or not Lucile knew herself as fully capable of taking this woman down, with or without a gun. Though her voice had stayed nonchalant, in all honesty, if these people made her anything, it was pissed. No matter how calm she seemed on the outside, her inner thoughts trailed far. Who was she supposed to kill? She didn’t know what was going on, or who any of these people were. All she knew was that something was definitely off here, but this woman seemed to be caught up in something she wasn’t a part of. If Lucile could give any comfort, any at all, she could at least try and hint she’d help if need be. “Come on, it ain’t that hard to let go.”

Alice An Taylor | 27 | Female | Civilian

Alice was officially going to murder that boy.

“You… absolutely brat…,” she spat.

This… This little sewer rat who would be tossed into the railroad business if his bastard parents had been a fraction more civilized enough to realize the sheer stupidity of living in the West of beastial lands. The situation before her only cemented her hatred of the West further. Oh to be back in New England again and away from these hooligans!

Alice looked like a raging bull, seeing only red as her face was as bright as her vision. Her hair was messy from sleep and her posture— while still as posed as ever— conveyed her disoriented nature from her wound. Her eyes had quickly dashed between the boys before she huffed angrily, steam pouring from her ears like a kettle as her heels dug into the wood as if to stop herself from charging. Considering that she had a gun in her hand too, this anger was not ideal.

“So yer with ‘em— ‘em—” Alice motioned vaguely to the room behind her with the women still somehow sleeping inside as her posh accent had slipped only briefly— “with them damn battle axes who brought me here?”

“Lady’s a loony,” the boy— who she was trying to help before only to realize he was with those freaks— murmured to his friend who could not have been barely any older than himself.

Excuse me?

“Thought Es and Vera kidnapped me too.”

“Yeah, she’s for sure got some nuts loose up there…,” the other boy replied in a hushed whisper that was still audible, holding a stick of dynamite as a threat if she dared move. “Ya think she’s just like this or…?”

“Think they hit ‘er too hard over the head.”

“Ah, yep. Explains a lot. Woulda been way worse if she’d been one of them runaway idiots from those institutions.”

“You are both in the soup if you keep yammering like windbags!” Alice cut in with a snarl. “When I am done with the two of you, you’ll be the ones needing care in one of them Institutions for Idiots!”

This was when the man finally spoke up, drawing Alice’s attention to him. He was easy on the eyes and had a smooth, more feminine voice. He was not dressed as any particular gentleman but spoke in a calming enough manner that Alice strangely felt at ease in spite of the whole situation. Listening to the man’s proposition, it was certainly tempting to drop the gun and let her hand stop shaking from just holding the heavy metal but—

“I will lower it, but I am not dropping it,” Alice said definitively with a stubborn huff, already making her mind clear on the matter. Alice looked passed the man briefly and glared at the older of the two boys. “Especially when one of them gots a damn dynamite stick.” Alice looked back to the man. “A little hard to trust having ‘good wine and biscuits’ over a stick of dynamite and a pair of smelly schmucks…” The older boy scoffed, supposedly putting away the stick and lighter away in his bag but he still seemed to hold onto both but just a bit more discreetly now.

“Ya just have a sensitive nose, lady,” the boy grumbled under his breath. “Things are a lot less la-di-dah in the real world.”

Alice glared at him and opened her mouth before stopping and turning to the older man, expecting him to scold the bold so she did not have to be the only one teaching manners around her.