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  1. Darth_Vaders_cousin Jedi Knight

    Member Since:
    Nov 12, 2004
    star 5
    IC: Father Russell
    Outside Alex Holiday's Residence

    Russell groaned to himself as the "Doctor" dismissed his claims that the young subject in question was a Vampire. Everyone dismissed his claims...they hadn't seen the things he had seen...they hadn't heard the Word of God tell him what he was preparing for. He didn't worry about it, he was the Sword of God, he would be judged and found righteous in the eyes of the Lord. He couldn't say as much for the residents of Deadwood. It'd taken all he had to not murder the lot of them, but now was not the time for the Lord's Vengeance. The Army of the Lord would need reformed sinners to fight on the front lines, and there was no other place one would find so many sinners to be reformed...especially ones proficient with a pistol.

    "Doctor, that child is an abomination, a tool of the Devil himself. Action must be--" He was cut short of a shrill scream from the home.

    ?Doc!! The Body?s gone!?

    ? What!!? The Doc screamed, running off the dirt road, bolting in his house and clinic, without shutting the door.

    The Preacher lowered his head and clutched the large wooden cross that hung from his neck. He murmured a silent prayer, not just for his own protection, but for the poor soul of the Child, he only hoped she would not be judged for her actions whist under the influence of Satan. Her soul was trapped on Earth in a decaying body, he would make it his personal mission to put her to rest.

    He didn't carry his pistol in Deadwood, it was safe back at the Church. It didn't seem right to him that a preacher should have to carry weapons, no matter how desperate the times were. Still his rifle was hidden in a blanket tied to his Saddle, and he wore his knife on his belt, these were dangerous times after all. He moved his hand from the cross to the hilt of his blade as he entered the house.

    "I told you Doctor!" He said in a calm but stern, booming voice as if he were giving a sermon on the Sin of worshiping false idols. "It is an wicked. An abomination of the Devil." he continued, following after the doctor. "The end is upon us, the dead walk, they hunt us in our sleep. Tools of Satan, come to collect us, make us pay for our transgressions!"

    He finally caught up to the Doctor, and in a low voice asked, "Have you atoned for your sins doctor?"

    MIB, Fitso
  2. HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist

    Member Since:
    Apr 13, 2001
    star 7
    IC: Tommy Lillard
    Canterbury Pub, Deadwood

    The freshly poured shot of whiskey was secured between thumb and forefinger as Tommy swirled its contents about, his eyes focused on the amber liquid while he considered the other man's offer. A thousand big ones wasn't an easy thing to part with, even if he had acquired it through less than admirable ways, but the goal was to ultimately come out of this with more than double what he was lugging around now. If everything went according to plan, Ghost Rock was gonna make him a rich man. A very rich man. Who needed one thousand bucks?

    Ignoring the other man's proffered hand, Tommy reached into his duster and produced the bundle of cash, flipping through the bills with his thumb and breathing in their scent one last time before tossing the whole thing down onto the tabletop. He finally tore his gaze away from the whiskey and glanced up from under the brim of his hat, motioning for the other man to take the bundle with a slight raise of his brow. But before Marinate could get his grubby hands on it, Tommy reached forward and slammed his palm down on top of it. "Now wait a sec, friend," he started in an icy tone, his gaze unwavering. "Before we go clappin' hands over this deal, I wanna make sure you ain't gonna leave me hangin' out there. Mining tools ain't cheap and if you're handing me a dud, well...I'm out a whole lotta money. That ain't good for business. I want some proof, not talk."

    Truth be told, the news of Marinate's friend being killed out there in the very mine that he was trying to sell him didn't sit quite right with him. More than likely, the death was probably due to an accident of some sort, but given the stories he heard, you could never be too sure. Tommy was far from the type who believed in curses or supernatural happenings, but the town sure had its rumblings. He knew that coming in, but hadn't thought it was this bad until he set foot on the dusty streets and actually felt the foreboding aura that seemed to cling to the townsfolk. Something was going on, no question about that. Whether it was ghosts or something else, well that was up for each person to decide on their own. As for Tommy, he liked to believe it was due to poor business brokers like the one sitting before him. No wonder the town was going dry.

    "So, whaddya say?" he leaned forward, bringing the shot glass to his lips and putting it back in one gulp. "You gonna show me the goods or not?"

    TAG: MiB
  3. Blood-and-Iron Jedi Youngling

    Member Since:
    Jan 20, 2009
    OOC: Sorry, guys, my computer's been hectic lately...try to get something up ASAP!
  4. TheManinBlack Jedi Padawan

    Member Since:
    Aug 1, 2007
    star 4
    OOC: I waited long enough, responses for those who posted will be up Thursday
  5. TheManinBlack Jedi Padawan

    Member Since:
    Aug 1, 2007
    star 4
    IC: Gerald Marinate
    Canterbury Pub, Deadwood

    Gerald sneered, then smiled grimly. He was paying him one thousand dollars and that was not something to blow off easily.

    ?Alright you got a deal, besides I think I had enough to drink. After all it be stupid not to see if your Ghost Rock, mine is a ?dead? vein or not.? Gerald laughing at his own lame pun haughtily.

    The giant of a man got up from the chair, rubbing off some of the dust and dirt from his hands, and wiped them on the table. Motioning Tommy with his finger, he opened the pub?s rusted doors and covered his eyes as the light shone on them, as if god himself was overhead.
    Marinate / Ling Mine, The Black Hills

    Tommy was a little slower then Gerald in walking up the steep, jagged rock filled hill. Then again Marinate had been here for over a year, and Lillard was new to this. Practice makes perfect indeed.
    It if it hadn?t been for him seeing the dried whisk of a body of Ling a week ago, he would have called the mine and the surrounding countryside beautiful. Lush green trees, the way their vines seemed to wrap around the surrounding rocks, that pocked out by the sides of the small stream just screamed to be appreciated. Not that it mattered to Gerald any more.

    ?Right there? Gerald said, pointing at cave near the mouth of the small stream.

    ?Come on.? He muttered silently walking towards it, his hand at his side, as if reaching for a pistol that wasn?t there. After a short while, in witch both of them had soaked their boats in the small body of water that seemed to emit from the entrances mouth. Not that either of them could see much, with most of the torches and lanterns in the cave put out. With their feet pounding in darkness, they were bound to misstep somewhere.

    It didn?t take long to find the Ghost Rock though. The small silver like lining, glowed somewhat. Guiding the two of them there, like a moth to flame. The small silver jagged patch of Ghost Rock, seemed to twist around the edge of the cave all the way into the corner where the small patches of Ghost Rock, turned into small piles. Lillard realized one thing, what little he saw in the dim light of the cave, would more than triple his investment.

    ?There?s much more along the other edges of course, but in this corner is where the corner the tunnel begins. Ling was finishing digging to a hollow cavern when he died. Marinate said approaching a man sized hole, that seemed to be surrounded with daggers and knives, from the uneven pointed edges made from the mining tools. The sides where also littered with small nuggets of Ghost Rock and Gold, and Tommy had no choice but to small.

    That little bit along was worth eight to sixteen thousand dollars. It might cost a lot getting a crew down, here?so he might what to do what they did and start work himself first, at least until he finished the framework they started.
    However from what he could see, the passage did lead the mine?s cavern underneath.

    ?Are you ready to go? Or do you want to see the entire floor of the Cave first, or some other tunnels we managed to half finish.? Gerald said with a nervous smile.

    TAG: HAN Solo

    IC: Abraham Milton
    Deadwood Sheriff?s Office

    ?What job?? Milton said with a smile, pulling out a small pipe, and stuffing it full of tobacco, his old hands showing amazing grace.

    ?I knew you heard of it, but recently the Union?s Western Line was shut down. Before that they had confiscated a ton of Ghost Rock, a few documents and a piece of research material; from a competitor of ours from an illegal mine and research faultily. Before you go losing any sleep it was from Hellstrome. ? Milton said with laugh.

    Though it started as a joke among railroad barons, that Hellstrome name was more than appropriate given his behavior from his stranglehold on them when it came to supplying Ghost Rock powered engines, it had spread to the general populace whom agreed on nearly all accounts. The man had liter
  6. TheManinBlack Jedi Padawan

    Member Since:
    Aug 1, 2007
    star 4
    IC: Albert Swearengen
    Gem Theater

    ?So here is Beauregard, the source of all my woes.? Al replied flatly, with a charming smile on his face, taking a stained silver pitcher, and pouring it into the closest thing to a clean mug in the Saloon, nay the entire city. With one fluid motion, Swearengen pushed the drink to the general, while taking a shot of whiskey.

    Al leaned forward on his chair, his hands folded up, elbows touching the edge of the table. Al even for something this important didn?t have time to put on a charming smile and sit through a game of bull with P.T. Beauregard. He had to make sure he the new shipments of liquor came in, and that they came to him first. He had to make sure his gambling operations where in swing. He had to make sure no one was pulling a fast one him, because there was always someone ready to pull the carpet from underneath you.


    Wiping himself off, Al faced the oak table the two of them sat on, but kept his eyes on the general. Al knew his eyes where hard, he wasn?t arrogant or anything, it was a simple fact. He obviously wasn?t going to be able to scare the general, he didn?t even plan to. He just wanted the message he was going to give him come across well. He didn?t need any misunderstandings.

    ? I feel for you General, to get stationed here you must of ticked off someone. But since your stuck here, let me on a few things. These are the Black Hills. That means your men are going to start deserting soon, thinking if their smart they could prospect on an unmarked spot and flee to the North if they make it big. Luckily, I help you take of this problem. I?ll sit down with the Hardware dealers, not Star and Bullock they might be Yankees like me but they?ll do it out of the goodness of their hearts, and tell them not to deal Mining supplies to your men. I don?t take you for stupid man, so I suspect you already know who I am, and what I mean to the people of this town.? Al said quietly but sharply. That meant of course anyone who didn?t obey him would have their house and business burn down overnight.

    For a minor infraction, of course.

    ?Also my men are in every bar and business in town, so they?ll be no under the table deals with current miners in town. Because if there are any, I?ll tell witch soldiers are going for the camping trip, and I?ll make an example of the miners. If you need anything else besides just call, I am the eyes and the ears of the town after.? Al continued, pouring another shot of whiskey for himself.

    ? I?ll I ask in return is that your men go to the Gem exclusively, if they get time off for a drink and such. You of course will have to pay for the seats they will take up for regular customers. Its only fair. ?

    ? In fact, I throw you in a bonus, if you care to join me General!? Al finished getting up from the table, pointing to his office.

    TAG: Imp

    OOC: Rest of updates up by tomorrow, sorry for the delay

  7. Ramza Administrator Emeritus

    Member Since:
    Jul 13, 2008
    star 7
    IC: The Man Called Caine
    Deadwood, Sheriff's Office

    "$2500, huh? That's quite the sum, Mr. Milton, quite the sum. Why do you want Hellstrome's research so badly, anyway?" Caine asked, scratching at his beard in thought. Regardless of the motives behind this man's offer, $1250 each was quite the offer, and the opportunity to turn Slane over to justice, even if it was rebel justice, was almost too good to pass up.

    Still, Caine had his reservations, and for good reason. This Milton fellow was rubbing him the wrong way, and that wasn't something the bounty hunter could just overlook. Nonetheless, he had a tried and true method for getting a glimpse at men's real characters.

    "Tell me, compadre, you fancy yourself a gambling man?" Caine asked suggestively, pulling out his trusty deck of cards and beginning to shuffle them. "Let me tell you what, we're going to play a few hands of five-card draw. My philosophy is 'know a man by how he bets,' if you get my picture. If I find you're on the up and up, Quint and I'll take the offer."

    He tossed Quint a sly glance. This was one of Caine's patented tests of character. The opponent, usually assuming he had to win, would do his damnedest to... well, win. Caine always won, of course, but judging by how the other man went about his end of the bargain, Caine could make a judgement.

    "If'n you don't mind me, deputy," he asked, almost jokingly, before knocking aside the thin, random assortment of claptrap on the man's desk, "Could you be so kind as to cut the deck and deal me an' Mr. Milton here in?"

    TAG: Rally, MIB/>
  8. TheManinBlack Jedi Padawan

    Member Since:
    Aug 1, 2007
    star 4
    IC: Doc Holiday
    Doc's Office/House

    Even as the Doc was spellbound by the lack of a body on his slab, he still heard the words the Father Russel muttered.

    "I might take you up on the whole confessional thing, Padre." He gasped out, rubbing his face frantically with his hands. None of this made sense. Who would steal a dead body? Why would they steal a dead body? And most importantly, how did they steal it when he left the room only two minutes ago?

    Grabbing a revolver off his desk, and going through, his narrow, off kilter drawers, a box of rifle ammo, Holiday swore underneath his breath.

    "Here, who ever did this couldn't have gotten far! Think you could use that Padre? I don't plan on hurtin' anyone but its best to be prepared for the worst!" Doc cried sharply, pointing to the Winchester rifle mounted in his living room, onto of a surprising high quality gold trimmed, redwood rack.

    TAG: Darth Vader's Cousin, Fisto Hero

    IC: Sol Star
    Bullock and Star Hardware/ General Store

    " You look ticked what the hell happened?" Star asked, with a charming clerks smile on his face. For the past year he had been the brains of the duo, while Seth Bullock had been the heart. Sol sometimes thought that was quite funny, after all he was the only reason Bullock didn't turn the Gem Theater into a living target range. Wasn't the heart of the group supposed to be the nice guy?

    But with Bullock gone, and his few waking moments devoted to trying to get a handle on the town, Star felt a bit lonely. Despite being an excellent negotiator, and if the polls in town where true, maybe he would be an excellent statesman as well, he had a hard time making friends. He didn't know this man whatso ever, but his eyes reminded him of Bullock's. Since he had nothing better to do today, it might as well be chat up with some travlers.

    As Star approached the counter, practically the only one in town that didn't lean to one side or the other, a look of dread spread across his face.

    A Preacher from the Church of Lost Angels had passed through the door, and that could only mean bad luck for Sol. Not only did these people smell, even worse then average Deadwood citizen. At least they showered once a week. These guys did about once a month, if they did even bathe. This once cloth, that had once been designed to look like the Knight Templar from days of old, white with a red cross in the middle, was now a mix of brown and black. A mix, Sol thought, gained from months of being dragged through the mud and standing out in the rain, to 'preach' for lack of a better word. Not even Father Russel matched their hellfire, partly because despite rumors of the contrary, he was sane. These fellows weren't even close.

    Being a Jew, he knew some people weren't going to take a liking to him, no matter what he did. He knew there where a lot of other groups in America, both South and North, where treated in a similar light if not worse. Rest assured, these people wouldn't treat you any different than anyone else. You where going to hell regardless of what you did, and who you where if you weren't a fellow member, and if even if you where...well that was no guarantee either. After owning a store without permission from Reverend Smithe was a good reason to be damned. Sniffing was probably a cardinal sin.

    Not that Smithe himself was that bad of a fellow. An egomaniac, yeah sure, but you had to give up to the guy. Before the Union and the Confederates stepped in he was the one who herded and rescued many from the Great Quake '68. Formed an entire search party, and started a refugee city, that was now the capital of California, the City of Lost Angels. He practically went broke feeding everyone, and sending boats to take as many people back to the States as possible. Some even said he pulled the old take a few fish and make them a lot trick. Of course now he made his fortunate back in Ghost Rock, but Sol knew better than to think ill of a man for having a sharp bussiness mind.

    The preacher smiled, revealing the seven remaining teeth.

  9. HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist

    Member Since:
    Apr 13, 2001
    star 7
    IC: Tommy Lillard
    Ling Mine, The Black Hills

    By the time they reached the crest of the hill and the mouth of the cave itself, Tommy's brow was drenched in sweat and he had opted to dispose of his duster about halfway up the steep incline to fight the heat. Apparently he had misjudged how hot the sun could get up here in the Black Hills and the extra layer of clothing had been murder. Luckily, a small stream fed from the opening of the cave and Tommy was able to splash some of the cool, crisp water up into his face as they sloshed through the shallow pool to the mine entrance.

    "That it, huh?" Tommy questioned with raised brow, ducking down and inspecting the rock formations around the opening to make sure this wasn't some elaborate trap. It looked authentic enough to his eyes, but one could never be sure in these days. "Remember, no funny business," he warned with a wag of his finger. "You know the stakes." To emphasize his point, he reached into his pocket and flicked a finger through the bundle of money, the sound of the bills hitting against the flesh of his thumb drawing a sadistic smile to his lips. It was sure gonna be hard to let go of these pretty ones.

    The two passed through the mouth and continued onward, stepping carefully through the darkened hallow of the cave, for each step could be a treacherous one without lanterns or torches to guide their path. But the stark darkness was soon overcome by an unearthly light shimmering faintly against the far wall as they approached another section of the cave. As they drew nearer, Tommy could make out distinct lines being traced within the rock itself, silver in appearance and no doubt, the source of the strange ethereal glow. He followed the lining with his eyes until it rounded a corner and seemed to deposit itself into a small pile at the base of the cave. "Ghost Rock," he mumbled in a barely inaudible whisper as his eyes widened out of excitement and greed.

    Now ignoring the other man's ramblings, Tommy stepped forward and knelt down before the small pile of treasure, taking up a single chunk into is hand and turning it over and over, examining every trench and crevice in its surface. It wasn't much by any stretch of the imagination, but it would sure put him over the top! All the riches he could ever hope to wish for were located right here in this tiny mine. Who needed to rob banks, trains and stage coaches when he had his own secret stash of millions right here under the dirt of the Black Hills?

    ?Are you ready to go? Or do you want to see the entire floor of the Cave first, or some other tunnels we managed to half finish," Marinate's voice suddenly burst into his thoughts and Tommy turned to look at him with a wry grin.

    "I think we're done here," Tommy said slowly, bringing the piece of rock up to eye level and turning it from side to side, the faint glow causing strange light patterns to dance across the Texan's face. Dead men and strange happenings be damned! He had himself a fortune! "This here will more than make up for this small piece of cash." Without taking his gaze away from the Ghost Rock, Tommy reached within his pocket for the bundle of money he was indicating and held it freely for the other man to take.

    "It's all yours, pard," he smiled, finally tearing his gaze away from the rock and stuffing it into the same pocket the money had been occupying moments before. "Pleasure doing business with ya."

    TAG: MiB
  10. Rally_Fan_84 Jedi Youngling

    Member Since:
    Jan 14, 2009
    star 3
    IC: Quentin Radamus
    *Quentin actually cracked half a grin when Caine tossed him a knowing glance after asking the badly dressed businessman to a game of cards, and snickered mirthlessly when he said*

    "If'n you don't mind me, deputy, could you be so kind as to cut the deck and deal me an' Mr. Milton here in?"

    *Quentin couldn't help himself. Besides, it was his own test, to test this mans conviction. It would be an indicator that he was either confident in his propsal or just some lackey*

    "Hope you have a spare arm and a leg to loose mister. Caine here once took all the winnings from three casinos in dodge before the rest refused to let him play, ran em out of business I hear."

    *He then turned to the deputy who was about to cut the cards. enjoying the moment of terror on his face when Quentin drew his Smith& Wesson pistol before giving it an obligatory spin and laying it on a desk opposite of the one that Caine and the businessman were situated out*

    "I will cut and deal. That pistol is a gesture of good faith, ensuring that nobody will have more holes than they already have. With that, I want you to go and find that fool that plays deputy around here, Bullock, and bring him here. I do not care if he is on his death bed or what else may affect him, bring him here so I can recite the constitutional mandates made by both the Union and Confederacy concerning bounty hunters and legal jurisdiction, then take this walking clump of manure out of here and collect.

    Now go, now."

    *Not giving the Deputy a chance to beat him to the punch, he sat down and ignored the cowardly man, instead cutting the deck several times and starting to deal to Caine the businessman and himself*

    "You know what Caine, this is kinda like the first time we tried to bring in Dave Rudabaugh from Iowa..."

    *He was interrupted in mid sentence by shooting and swearing. Getting up after all cards had been dealt, he glanced out of the window and frowned*

    "Hells bells! It never ends in these ugly burgs does it?!"

    *Although he sat back down, it looked as if Radamus had adjusted his coat slightly. What he had actually done was cock the hammer on the customized LeMat pistol that was in a special holster at the small of his back, something that Caine had seen him do before. It was a sure sign that he did not like what was going on outside and that those who were not caught up at the moment might soon be, and have to defend themselves by any means necessary.*

    Tag: Ramza, GM/>
  11. TheManinBlack Jedi Padawan

    Member Since:
    Aug 1, 2007
    star 4
    OOC: To correct any misunderstandings Witchdoctor, Only Chester and one other thug are carrying a rifle, the rest are just carring pistols. ~My Bad~
  12. SkywalkerShine Jedi Youngling

    Member Since:
    Aug 16, 2007
    star 3
    IC: Trisha James
    Gem Theater backstage, Deadwood

    "Trish, Al wants you in his office, its important."

    Albert needed her? What ever for? Trisha smiled when Will hurried out, embarrassed to be at the dressing room. The other girls laughed and giggled. The young woman shook her head and stood up. "Oh, hush up now. Ya know the poor fella needed to do something for Al." One of her friends, Lily, smiled. "Aw, we were just teasin', Trish. You know how we are."

    Trisha smiled. "Yeah, I know." She then looked at herself in the mirror. Walking out the backstage, Trisha turned back to her friends and smiled. "How I look?" The other girls smiled. "You look wonderful," Cherry, her other friend, said. Trisha smiled. Then she turned back, and walked off the stage.

    When she got into the main bar, every men started howling and making smooches at her. On the outside, she smiled and waved at them, blowing kisses. But in the inside... she felt disgusted. Why did she choose this job? Well, it was the only job she could find. What else could she do? Farm all her life? Certainly not.

    Trisha finally reached Al. She stood there in front of his desk and breathed calmly. "Do you need me, sir?"

    Tag: TheManinBlack
  13. Ramza Administrator Emeritus

    Member Since:
    Jul 13, 2008
    star 7
    IC: The Man Called Caine
    Sheriff's Office, Deadwood

    Like many of the signs Quint and Caine had developed over the year, it was second-nature for Caine to pick up what a cocked pistol meant. He rearranged two of his cards in silent reply. Nonetheless, right now he was gambling. The importance of maintaining a good poker face was tantamount at this time.

    He cooly surveyed the hand he was dealt, traded in three cards, and bid a dollar. "What do you say we go three hands?" he asked. It was of course a feint. Caine had a fantastic hand - four Aces, but if anything right now it seemed like he had nothing.

    "Your bet, in any case."

    TAG: Rally, MIB/>
  14. Imperial_Hammer Manager Emeritus: RPFs

    Member Since:
    Sep 25, 2004
    star 5
    IC: Gen. PT Beauregard
    Location: The Gem Theater

    The Confederate commander stroked his mustache thoughtfully as the man went down his spiel. High threat of desertion, plenty of people willing to sell mining supplies, etc. etc. And all he wanted in return was patronage. That his men would go to the Gem exclusively. Ugh, another profiteer. Why was he not surprised.

    The General leaned back into his chair, staring across the table with a small cocky smile.

    "You suhr o'er estmate yurself. Teh Confederacy has ways a' keepin' her men 'n line."

    This was true of course. Confederate commanders were no strangers to using the lash or worse. He had shot a few deserters on the battlefield before. He let the words sink in for a second before continuing.

    "How'evr, as I doun know how lawng we'll be stayin' 'ere, I agree ta yur of'r."

    He extended his uniformed hand across the table and exchanged a strong hand-shake with the man.

    Swearengen offered to throw in a drink right now to mark the occassion.

    "Now that souns mitey fine suhr." the General said, standing up from the table. "Afta' you."

    TAG: GM
  15. TheManinBlack Jedi Padawan

    Member Since:
    Aug 1, 2007
    star 4
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