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Horror Red Sands

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Ramza, Jun 22, 2015.

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  1. Ramza

    Ramza Administrator Emeritus star 9 VIP - Former Mod/RSA VIP

    Jul 13, 2008
    GM Note: Planned Friday update has been preempted by some (not recurring) department obligations, so this is the roughly 24-48 hour warning.

    Edit: Bah, fouled up the scheduling and forgot about grading. Tuesday for sure.
    Tim Battershell likes this.
  2. Ramza

    Ramza Administrator Emeritus star 9 VIP - Former Mod/RSA VIP

    Jul 13, 2008
    The man who wasn’t there had company that was. He wore a wide-brimmed hat, boots with heels to make even the most ostentatious dresser question their efficacy, and between the two he favored a serape. Save for the boots, the entire ensemble was a garish shade of bright red, though this coloring meant little in these days of bloody sunlight.​
    The man who wasn’t there was never a fan of such gaudy dress, nor indeed of the company that favored it, but sometimes needs outweighed wants. This was one such time.​
    Stroking again the headless cow carcass he was making a meal of, the command was given. The company nodded, and took up a position behind a large rock. The serape fluttered, and a gun was withdrawn. An unassuming pistol. The casual observer would question the use of such a weapon, given the apparent target.​
    The casual observer did not know what the man who wasn’t there knew.​
    A cruel smile drew across nonexistent lips.​

    Much to the likely surprise of Sister Tornada, the crowd considered her words for a moment. Then a reply from the Sheriff: “Reckon the first thing we ought to do is put out that damn blaze before it burns the whole town down. We’ll have another meeting in an hour - this time,” he glared at his ineffective counterpart, who was still in a daze from the initial pronouncement, “inside the town hall.”​
    The crowd, as if a spell was broken, murmured as if a collective entity, and then proceeded to address the blaze. It was perhaps not the proactive solution the sister was hoping for, but it was at least progress of a sort considering the pandemonium of earlier.​
    Then - no bang, but a whizzing noise that she, as a devotee of her religion (such as it was), would know anywhere. A dull thud. A smoking hole in the ground, not three feet from where she was standing. The crowd didn’t even perceive the event, but it was unmistakable to someone as trained as her.​
    A gunshot.​
    Stranger still - from above. And strangest yet, that miss had been on purpose.​
    But the second? Well…​

    Rem’s shot connected with the precision he had undoubtably counted on. A spray of blood, just barely perceptible in the red light of the midday sun, shot out of an ankle. A trip, a second trip, and down the fleeing figure went, blade flying forward and away as he hit the dirt road with a thud. Somehow the gunshot had gone unnoticed, but chalk that up to strange circumstances. In any case if Caroline or Irving still sought to make a move, now was the time. Otherwise, there was no doubt that Rem would have to capitalize on this opportunity if any mysteries were going to be resolved.​
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  3. Tim Battershell

    Tim Battershell Jedi Master star 5

    Sep 3, 2012
    IC: "Rem"
    Boarding House, Santa Zita

    Damn it! I didn't intend to actually hit the beggar, just to make him jump and put him off his stride, but I've obviously winged him. How badly, I'll have to go and see. Good news, though is that he dropped something when he stumbled. Looks like a bladed weapon of some kind. Considering what's happened, that should be of rather more interest to the people in the street than I am. Hopefully!

    There also seems to be some sort of sanity returning to the mob after the nun's unexpected intervention. A male voice, used to exercising authority from the sound of it, calling out; "Reckon the first thing we ought to do is put out that damn blaze before it burns the whole town down. We’ll have another meeting in an hour - this time.... Inside the town hall!"

    First things first, though; of which getting decently attired is the most important. Good job I don't have a Gentleman's Personal Gentleman with me - too noticeable - but it does mean that I can just throw on what's handy in the clothing line without worrying about getting a lecture, punctuated with disapproving sniffs, on the need for sartorial perfection at all times! Anyway, in this weird light, who's really going to notice if the colours don't quite go together?

    I end up dressed in a lightweight linen and cotton ensemble with a hip-length jacket. However, considering how some of the locals are dressed, I don't bother with waistcoat, collar, collar-studs or cufflinks. The Beaumont Adams is clipped via its holster's own belthook at my left side - butt forward. I like that arrangement, it means I can get to the gun with either hand and it's reasonably out of sight. Just in case, I mount the bayonet on the, reloaded, Martini Henry - it's wonderful how twenty inches of cold steel can make people think twice before doing something rash. Ammunition for the pistol into my left-side jacket pocket - a pity the gun only holds five shots, but each of them's a stopper - ditto for the rifle in my right-side pocket, and to hell with pulling the jacket out of what shape it has! Ex-army boots on my feet - the hobnails studding the bottom of the soles can come as a nasty surprise if raked down somebody's leg - and no, I don't play Cricket! A wide-brimmed 'Planter's' hat on my head, and I think I'm ready.

    One of the reasons I chose this particular Boarding House is that the rooms overlooking the 'street' can be entered or left via a sort of balcony running the full width of the frontage, as well as from inside the building. Stairways each end lead into handy alleyways; just the ticket for unobserved comings and goings. The downside is that those rooms have to be paid for in advance. Still, that doesn't bother me.

    At the bottom of the stairway I keep moving down the alley, then along behind the buildings until I think I've covered the right amount of distance and out along another alley almost to the 'street'. I have to make a conscious effort to avoid carrying the rifle at 'the trail' or at 'high port', eventually settling for carrying it in the crook of my left elbow, supported by my left hand curled around the buttplate.

    I switch the rifle over to rest its butt on my right hip, pointing straight up, with my right hand well above the action and no finger anywhere near the trigger, before easing into position to view the 'street'. For additional safety, I call out; "Hello there, I'm friendly! May I come into view and approach without getting shot for my trouble?". I hope my English accent will go some way to establishing my bona fides.

    TAG: Ramza, BartSimpson-SithLord, Ktala, JediMasterAnne,
  4. Ktala

    Ktala Force Ghost star 6

    Sep 7, 2002
    Sister Tornada (Elsie)
    Grabbing their attention, Santa Zita

    Well Hallelujah, the idjits finally spoke out. At least the Sheriff did, finally. The man spoke with a slow drawl, but at least it was something useful.

    “Reckon the first thing we ought to do is put out that damn blaze before it burns the whole town down. We’ll have another meeting in an hour - this time,” he glared at the mayor, who was still in a loss for words, “inside the town hall.” Elsie gave a nod of approval, and relaxed, as the crowd began to work on taking caer of the blaze. At least one person has some common sense left to them. She turned away, looking towards the directin where the person she had seen earlier run off towards, when she heard a whizzing noise. Before she could even react, she A dull thud. A smoking hole in the ground, not three feet from where she was standing.

    A gunshot.

    She slowly lowered her gun, relaxing. if someone was trying to gain her attention, they had most certainly done it. It seemed that no one else noticed the smoking hole in the ground. Not surprising, actually, the crowd was busy dealing with the fire. But the angle of the shot. THAT, was very strange. It was from above. A rooftop? OF course, the fact that the shot had but placed there, was most certainly on purpose. So, perhaps they were not trying to kill her? At least she hoped so. She quickly hid her rifle as she took a few steps forward, trying to see what possible areas could such a shot come from. If someone was indeed trying to gain her attention, she should certainly make an effort to find out who.

    TAG: Any who care...
    JediMasterAnne, BartSimpson-SithLord, Penguinator, Tim Battershell, Ramza
    Tim Battershell likes this.
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