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Miles

"I want it all, and no one better get in my way"

0 · 196 views · located in Pandorum

a character in “Gravemakers n' Gunslingers”, as played by Deusonos

Description

Miles may not look like much, but he is a force to be reckoned with. He stands at 6'2 and has an average yet muscular build. As a stark contrast from the brutes of the wasteland, Miles looks suave and smooth, with a clean shaven face and a look that suggests he bathes regularly. His hair is jet black, and his eyes are an icy blue. His face is long and his stare is cold enough to intimidate almost any foe. He is quite handy with a gun, but he usually has a couple of goons with him just in case. More often than not, he will be seen smoking a cigarette.

Personality

Miles is a pampered character, having been spoiled most of his life. This has made him quite arrogant, but his dealings with the outside world has made him streetsmart and charismatic. Clever and resourceful, Miles often has ideas on what to do in a situation and won't hesitate for a second to act upon his hunches. He can be condescending, and even quite a jerk at times, but he still knows how to talk to people and knows how to get on their good side. In fact, he can be quite manipulative and won't hesitate to use words to get what he wants, and he wants a lot. Of all the traits that define Miles, it's his greed and lust for power. The success of his family isn't enough for him. He wants all of the money and pleasure he can get his hands on, and he will stop at nothing to get it. His arrogance and greed may get him in trouble, but he can be quick to find a way out of almost any situation.

Equipment

Miles doesn't shy away from expensive clothes. He usually wears a black tuxedo and pants with white stripes and a black fedora. His shoes are black, but can acquire shades of brown from all of the dust. For weapons, he usually carries around a revolver and a pocket knife.

History

When Miles was born, his parents didn't own much besides a small trading caravan and a little bit of cash. At that time, he was far too naive to even care about his parent's misfortune. However, by the time he reached adolescence, his parents were well on their way to becoming a successful trading company. In his spare time, he would often learn how to use a gun from one of the employees and learned streetsmarts by talking people during stops at the towns. He saw many things on the roads, some of which he probably doesn't want to be reminded of, but all of it has helped him to better equip himself for surviving the wasteland. It wasn't long before his parents' company became one of the most successful in the wasteland, which often led to him getting whatever he wanted. This was when his greed and lust for power began to develop, and when it did, it never stopped.

Eventually, life began to become boring for Miles, despite the fact that he was among some of the most fortunate in the wasteland, and began to become more involved in the family business. He then became a merchant and made it easier for him to persuade and barter. Life became more interesting when he started to meet new people, even if some of them were washed up old drunks. As he went form person to person, town to town, he began to realize that there was an entire world out there, just waiting for someone to reap the benefits.

It wasn't long before Miles grew older, and his parents grew weary. Now that he is the new leader of his family's trading company, he may now have a way to gain the power that he so lustfully desires.

So begins...

Miles's Story

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They had been traveling for a few hours, and Miles was getting sick of it. During the entire trip he sat in the back of the shaded cart and smoked. He looked towards the front and said "Hey! When the hell are we gonna get to Roram?" "It's about half an hour away, boss", The driver replied. Miles' looked out into the wasteland behind him and sighed. "I'm getting sick of this shit. For years I've been going from town to town, just hoping that it would pay off, but look at where I am now. It's always the same, old, shit. Go from town to town, sell some stuff, then move on. I guess a trading company isn't exactly what I wanted, but I suppose it's better than starving in the streets. Fuck it, just get us to Roram soon."

"Yes, boss!" the driver replied.

Miles looked back out into the wasteland, perplexed. He felt that he had been doing everything right. All he had to do was gain the trust of the people, make a few connections, and he was set. Perhaps I've been too naive about things, he thought. Every town he went to, he thought that things might be different, but it's been the same shit for years. Nothing new. Nothing interesting. He flicked his cigarette onto the road, tucked his fedora over his eyes, and slept the rest of the way.

"We've made it Roram, boss!" the driver announced. Miles awoke from his nap and looked on the road to see some shanty small-town and sighed. They pulled into town and began to set up shop.

"You keep setting up shop, I'm going to explore a bit"

"If you don't mind me asking, boss, why?"

Miles smirked "Perhaps things will be different this time"

Miles explored the town for a bit. As he was walking around, he found what he was looking for. A good, old, saloon where his dry throat can be satisfied. He walked towards the door, when a young girl walked left the saloon. He got out of her way, and proceeded to enter. If there was anything about this town that said shithole, it was this saloon. The place was dank, and the characters were even danker. It felt kind of strange for him to walk into such a place without his bodyguards, but he had no worries. He went up to the counter, flatly saying "Give me some whiskey." The bartender nodded and got him his drink. He couldn't have but one shot before some drunk delinquent approached him.

"Who's are ye? Ye ain't from around 'ere, bud"

Miles downed his whiskey before replying, "I'm a simple trader, nothing more"

The drunk replied, "I dun't like yer type. Ye think ye can just flounce around, showin' off yer fancy suits and yer money. I thinks it's about time someone showed ye yer place"

"Oh, really? And who's gonna be the one to do it?"

"I'll show ye who's-" BANG! The drunk fell straight to the ground, with Miles' revolver still smoking. The roaring of talk and laughter had suddenly came to a screeching halt. Everyone stared at Miles in shock. No one even saw him draw his gun! He calmly placed the revolver back into its holder and asked the bartender for another drink. He nervously nodded, getting Miles another drink. After a few more rounds, he left the saloon. Hmm, I still wonder if anything interesting will happen, he thought.

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After Miles left the saloon, he returned to find that the rest of the caravan had shown up, and his bodyguards were there waiting for him. The one Miles rode on had already set up shop. Miles gave some sort of signal to the shopkeeper, and the shopkeeper nodded. Miles then turned to his bodyguards, which were three in all. He looked at one, Roger, and nodded. Roger was the one that Miles trusted the most, and the only one he considered a friend. Roger approached him, saying,

"Sorry we're late, boss, we got caught in a sandstorm and-"

Miles put his hand up, interrupting him. "Don't sweat it, you got here, right on schedule, and that's all I care about."

Roger let out a grin. "In that case, why don't we get down to the small talk? Did you find anything of interest in this old pit stain of a town?"

Miles shrugged, "Eh, I didn't find much. Just some rundown saloon that smelled like shit with drinks that tasted like piss." He paused for a moment, remembering what he saw, "Now that I think about, though, I did see a man in a suit there. He seemed like the kinda guy we should get to know, eh?"

Roger smiled, as if he knew exactly what Miles was planning. "Yeah, good idea, boss."

With that, Miles called for the other two bodyguards, and they left for the saloon. To Miles' disappointment, the man in the suit had already left, so Miles came up with the next best thing to do. He walked up to the counter, with everyone completely silent as he passed them. He lit a smoke, then rested his hands on the counter. He motioned for the bartender. "Howdy, pops, did you see a man in a suit here, earlier?"

The bartender blinked with surprise. "Besides you, no."

Miles caught the bartender's surprise from the question, so he pushed forward. "Really? Surely you would notice someone like that in a saloon like this. Even I saw him. Are you honestly telling me that you didn't see a single person other than me who was wearing a suit?"

The bartender started to get nervous, but tried to hide it. However, it was starting to become apparent that he was a terrible liar. "I-I assure you, I did not see anyone like that enter or exit this bar!"

Miles shifted from his relaxed position to standing up. He easily overshadowed the bartender, who was becoming more and more nervous. Miles gave him a cold stare, saying, "I can see your fear, and you have every right to be afraid. I'm not the kind of person you should be keeping secrets from. I suggest you tell me where he is before I get one of my boys here to turn that little tongue of yours inside out."

The bartender had become so scared at this point that he looked like he was going to piss himself. He mustered the courage to talk. "Uh, y-yes, the man y-your looking f-f-for. H-he's at the r-ruins on the o-outskirts of t-town. Y-you'll k-know when you g-get there."

Once the bartender told him the information, Miles went from his cold stare to giving him a cocky grin. "That was almost too easy."

He turned around to walk away, but not before remarking, "I'll be sure to give you a tip next time I swing around. See ya, pops"

After exiting the saloon, Miles looked towards the ruins. They seemed ominous, even foreboding. Roger looked to Miles. "This could be a trap, you know. Did you give the signal?"

"Don't worry, I have all of that taken care of."

"I was just making sure. I didn't want to see a repeat of last time when you forgot to give the signal." Miles and Roger stared at each other, shuddered, and kept walking.

It was nearly dusk when they reached the ruins, and everything seemed quiet. Miles and the bodyguards marched on through the old ruins of steel and concrete until they reached some sort of city square. They surveyed their surroundings carefully, but there were no signs of traps to be found. It honestly felt like the city has been abandoned, untouched by mankind for eons. But Miles knew better, he kept surveying the area when a sniper bullet landed right in front of his foot. He looked up at the building to find that they have been completely surrounded by bandits. Miles and the bodyguards raised their hands, while Miles was looking around the area. He looked ahead to find that the man they were looking for had stepped out of one of the buildings. He looked at them with a menacing stare, while Miles was giving a stern look in return.

The man looked at them with a haughty smile and greeted them. "Hello, welcome to my humble abode. I am Roarek, and what might your names be?"

"The name's Miles," he looked around, "and you sure don't treat your guests too kindly."

"Yes, well, as you may know, I am a busy man, and I cant have anyone interrupting my work. So, why have you entered my domain?"

"I was hoping we could make some, you know, negotiations."

Roarek had begun to fill up with laughter. "Ha! What makes you think you're in a position to be making negotiations?"

At that moment, Miles crossed his fingers together, and at least thirty suits had come out of hiding, each with AK47s. Miles smirked, looking back at Roarek. "I think I have plenty of room to make negotiations. So, do you want to end this peacefully, or do you want it to get ugly?"

Roarek was astonished and even a bit angry, but he accepted defeat nonetheless. He ordered his bandits to lower their weapons, and invited Miles into the main building. After climbing a few stairs, they made it to Roarek's office. When Miles saw his office, it didn't seem like much. Although, it was the best refurbished ruins could look like. It had old wallpaper, worn paintings, and the smell of death. Roarek invited Miles and his bodyguards to sit down. Although the chairs were plastic, they were still relatively comfortable.

Roarek got comfortable in his seat, then began. "So then, before we begin, I'd like to ask, how'd you find me?"

"It was almost too easy. I just had to give that little bartender a bit of encouragement, and he told right where you were."

Roarek leaned back in his chair, shrugging in a nonchalant manner. "I suppose I shouldn't trust information to someone like him. Ah well, I can probably find a way to send his ass to jail. Anyways, I suppose we shouldn't linger on such petty topics. What is it you'd like to negotiate?"

"I'm glad we're getting down to business, now. When I saw you, I knew you would be the kind of person I could get along with. I think that if we both team up we would both benefit. What do you say?"

Roarek squinted his eyes, seeming skeptical about the offer. "What makes you think I can trust you? For all I know, you could be screwing me over."

"You should know that I am a man of business. Every offer I've made has had everyone leaving happy. Also, you saw what power I have. Can you honestly say that power like that wouldn't be beneficial to you?"

"Yes, but you could also turn that power against me. How do I know I can trust you?"

"I assure you, it's not a part of my morals to backstab a person like that. It's true that I do this for the good of my company, but I also have you're best interests at heart. I am the owner of a respectable trading company. It has one of the most respectable and trustworthy reputations you will ever find. If you were to team up with my company, you would be able to gain more money than you can possibly dream of. What's mine is yours and yours is mine. What do you say?"

Roarek seemed intrigued by the offer. It seemed too good to be true, but if he rejected this offer, it could also be disastrous for him. All he needed was some proof that he could trust him. "Very well, I'll accept your offer. However, there's just one thing I need you to do, to be sure that you're trustworthy."

"And what might that be?"

"You see, I've been having a bit of a thief problem. She's quite incompetent and owes me a good sum of money. She says she doesn't have it, but I know better. If you, say, convince her to pay me back soon, I may consider your offer. I don't care how you do it, just make sure that she gets me that money."

"Alright, and who is this thief?"

"Her name is Starlette. She's got blonde hair, looks like a total whore, shouldn't be too hard to miss. She can be a bit tough to negotiate with, so feel free to use force if you have to. You do that, and you got a deal."

Miles and Roarek stood up and shook hands. Miles waved goodbye, then headed back to town.

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It was 10 P.M. when Miles reached town, and he was exhausted. At first, he considered sleeping in the caravans, but he figured that it would be more more comfortable if he slept at the hotel/saloon. The town was quiet as he drifted through the street. The only sound he could hear were from faraway alleys and the saloon. Besides that, nothing. The only thing he could see was a cloaked figure heading for the saloon door. Once the figure entered the saloon, Miles seemed to be walking at a more relaxed pace. So much so that it took him about thirty seconds longer than normal to reach to door. Once he got to the door, the hooded figure came running out the door only to be caught by miles. Miles looked down at the figure, who seemed to be considerably shorter than him.

"Excuse me," Miles said, "but have you seen a pretty, young thief with blonde hair?"

The figure jumped at the question and answered almost immediately. "No, of course not!"

"Very well, carry on." Miles let go of the figure, who ran off into one of the alleyways. The voice was noticeably masculine, putting Miles' suspicion to rest. However, he felt that he did have another lead. He entered the saloon and walked up to the bartender.

Miles smiled at the bartender in a seemingly innocent manner. "Hiya, pops! I was hoping me and my boys could rent a room. How's that sound?"

The bartender had just noticed that Miles and his gang had just walked in. His face got bale and his hands grew shaky. He was afraid of going through another interrogation. "I'm sorry, sir, but we're booked!"

Miles lit a smoke and and smirked in amusement at the bartender. "I know that you only want to keep up your reputation for the hotel, but I wasn't born yesterday. I know that this town doesn't get a whole lot of visitors to fill your rooms. Just give me a room for four, and I'll the fee, plus the tip I promised you. Sound like a deal?"

"All right, there's a room for four at the end of the second story hallway for 200 caps."

Miles drew out of his pocket and grabbed 300 caps. 200 for the room and 100 as the tip. Many of the people in the saloon looked towards the clinging of the caps. Many seemed astonished that a man could attain such wealth. Miles called for is bodyguards and headed up to the hotel room. When they got to their room, sure enough, it had four beds. Although, there was only enough room to have the beds in pairs on opposite sides of the room, with a nightstand between each pair. The room had one lamp on each nightstand, and a cracked window that had a view of the ruins. Miles looked outside, seeing a faint light near the ruins. He wondered what was going on up there when he heard a knock on the door. He answered it to find one of his spies waiting for him. The spy looked around, then whispered something in Miles' ear. Miles nodded, then shut the door. He announced to his bodyguards, "Boys, I think we may have found our girl!"

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Miles smiled with a satisfying glee after hearing his latest gossip from the spy. His prey was sitting on the other side of town, and, as far as he knew, he had the element of surprise. This should be a piece of cake, he thought with confidence. Miles rounded up his men and headed for the outside. The night was as black as his uncle's heart, and a heavy fog was beginning to roll in. Even the elements are on my side. This will almost be too easy. The fog rolled in, curling around their bodies, until it finally settled. Miles and the bodyguards made their way across the dusty street into one of the alleyways. It was cramped, real cramped. Miles and the others made their way between the walls of wood and metal until they made their way to a makeshift gate. Miles knocked on the door, and a small hunk of scrap slid across. A pair of eyes looked through, which seemed to be surprised by Miles' presence.

The eyes began to peer, as if examining Miles. Suddenly the eyes got wide and shut the slab. The person on the other side cleared his voice. "Sorry, sir, but you're not welcome."

Miles blinked of surprise at the question. He figured there was something going on in there, some kind of plan. Miles knocked on the door again, and, one again the hole in the door was open. Before the person on the other side could say anything, Miles pulled out his revolver and aimed it right through the hole. His eyes grew cold and his voice stern. "Open. The fucking. Door." The person on the other side finally began unlocking the door. Miles could hear at least three clinks, until the door finally opened. Miles grinned, then proceeded to enter. When Miles entered, all he saw were some vendors with makeshift market stalls. There wasn't much hear, yet it seemed like a whole other world, cramped inside the alleyway. As he walked through the alley, many of the people in the alley gave him a stern look of hatred, yet Miles didn't know why. These people haven't even known about him before... or have they? Regardless, Miles kept walking until he reached what seemed like the hotel. Miles opened the door and walked right in.

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'Okay, okay. So, someone is looking for you. It's okay, you've been in situations like these before.' She paced the wood floor, with each step the floor bent and creaked in a way that hinted at it's age and threatened it possibly snapping. In the midst of her pacing she reached in between the mattress and the frame and pulled out a sling rucksack. Throwing it on the bed she grabbed her box of food and began to wrap individual pieces of food in wax paper. She grabbed a canteen from inside the bag and filled it up with water from the sink. It was the same old procedure. There had been a couple of times before where she had gotten in more trouble than she should have, and she would have to disappear for a while. Sometimes she would have to lie in wait and take care of the situation herself. She knew the people she had pissed off were very influential and that they would have numerous people out for her, so it wasn't safe to just hang around. Literally anyone on the street could have it out for her.

She pulled out her gun and checked the barrel, fully loaded. With a click she shoved it back in place and holstered it on her side. Call it cliche, but Star had hidden slots in her boots for her blades, just in case she ever needed them. She didn't like using them, it felt too personal. She didn't like being that close to a person when she fatally wounded them. And it never worked quick enough. Unlike many, she never reveled in the idea of killing another, instead she'd rather push it out of her mind, she tried to forget the faces of different people she had killed.

As she was packing three loud bangs sounded down the hallway walls. This was a signal that was only known by people who needed to care about it. It meant a stranger was in, and if you had any reason to run, you should probably do it now. She hastily packed whatever food she could fit without making the bag too heavy and left everything else. The hallways were narrow and there were a few other shady characters pulling on clothing and making their way down the stairs. Star shuffled down the hallway allowing the other people to rush in front of her. She remembered Trip saying something about the man looking for a blonde, so she stopped to try and hide all of her hair underneath her hat. Her jacket was slung over her shoulder and her bag was strapped across her chest. There was only one staircase that lead to the main dining and bar area, she could hear loud chatter downstairs and knew that something was up. She could hear hurried whispers coming from the different rooms and shuffling of feet. It was impossible to leave any other way so she headed into the bar area. She kept to the edges of the room and tried to keep out of the light. She could see a rich looking man in the middle of a few other people. She immediately recognized him as the rich kid from her photos. Was this guy looking for her? She couldn't chance finding that out.

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The instant Miles entered the hotel, he knew that something was amiss, things didn't seem right. Everything looked normal, too normal. A man was quietly reading the newspaper, a young couple was holding hands and talking, and the bartender was cleaning a glass while smiling at his guests. Normally, a saloon would have ruffians screaming and hollering, but not this place. Miles slowly advanced inside the hotel, keeping an eye out for his surroundings. His target could be anywhere, and he would be ready for her. He didn't see any signs of a blonde woman, yet he still stayed in the same spot, looking. However, his concentration was broken by the bartender, who seemed to be greeting him. Miles did not budge, though. He stared at the bartender, wondering what he was up to. Suddenly, it hit him. This was a distraction! By the time Miles started looking around again, he caught a glimpse of someone leaving the hotel. Miles could not believe he had been tricked like this, but he wouldn't let this deter him. He called for the bodyguards and ran outside.

Once Miles made it outside, he saw that a girl was running down one of the alleyways. He knew it! The bitch got away right under his nose! He ran to pursue her, but he was pulled back by a large, brutish man wielding a cleaver. The man brought down his cleaver as is it were some kind of hammer of judgment, punishing Miles for his sins. Miles narrowly escaped the bloodied cleaver before drawing his revolver. He had jumped a good distance from the man, giving him time to make some shots. He shot the man once in his wrist and another one in his leg. That should keep him from chasing me, Miles thought. He turned around to see that the girl had reached the end of the alleyway before turning a corner. Miles became red with frustration. Even if she was clever, Miles would not allow himself to be outsmarted by her. Miles asked for two of his bodyguards to patrol the area to try and corner her, while he and Roger would pursue her down the original alleyway. The dark fog had only continued to get thicker since they entered the hotel. It made it hard to see, but Miles felt that this could also be used to his advantage. My vision may be muddied, but so is hers. Also, I have her outnumbered. She's as good as mine.

The setting changes from Roram to Pandorum

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#, as written by Guest
Ryder looked, noticed the guy in the suit walk out and into the open air. He didn't like the guy's air: he seemed like a man on a mission; a bad one. He looked like a killer, cold-blooded and heartless, the kind Ryder had become a bounty hunter to stop. His feet hit the floor, and goddammit he felt woozy. A little too much Death Whiskey would do that to a man. Still, he retained his composure just so much to walk straight. He headed out the door and tailed the guy, making it seem like he was simply trailing about in a drunken stupor. The Suit headed down an alleyway, towards the Derelict Market, an area Ryder knew all too well: He'd gunned down his fair share of bandits in that area. The people knew him there, so he had to be careful.

The Suit seemed to be in a disagrement with the doorman, who refused the guy entry. A revolver was flipped from the the Suit's jacket, and Ryder dipped for his guns, holding his hands over his own revolvers. There was a tense moment of silence. "Open. The fucking. Door," the Suit said at last. And it did. The Suit and his guys walked inside. Ryder trailed close behind. The doorman was about to close and lock the entryway again, but Ryder was fast behind, slipping into the opening. "What the hell-" was all the doorman could say before he was kicked into unconsciousness by the heel of Ryder's boot. He may be drunk, but the bounty hunter could still execute a mean spin kick to the temple. He closed the door, locked it, and headed through the Derelict Market.

He followed the Suit into what appeared to be a hotel. He stayed behind the guy, a shadow in red, moving swiftly and quietly. He waited outside the door, leaning against it as if he were casually enjoying the foggy night atmosphere. He wished he had a cigar but, alas, such luxuries alluded him. He dipped his head in, watching as the Suit looked around he place. He seemed annerved; good. Meant he was focused on other things than the bounty hunter. This was a great opportunity: he reached for his guns, about to bring this guy into custody.....

Suddely, the Suit and his guys were rushing for the outside. 'Shit!' Ryder thought. He sprung sideways, ducking behind a bundle of barrels just beside the hotel's front porch. The Suit turned, again sprinting down another alleyway, pursuing a blonde girl who went in the same direction. Ryder crept out and shifted behind them. There was a brief struggle as a rather large man wielding a bloody cleaver took a few monstrous swings at the Suit. The giant wound up getting shot, but he'd live. He fainted from the pain, something Ryder raised a quizzical eyebrow at. 'No tme. He's the primary.' He drifted downward, toward the gang of killers. The Suit, clearly the guy in charge, ordered two of his men to scout out and corner the girl. He and another man kept down the original path. Ryer would follow, steadily and quietly, using the thickening fog to his advantage. He unholstered both of his guns, bided his time as he crept behind the two mobsters, waiting for events to unfold, looking for an excuse to put a bullet in evil's fadora'd little head.

The setting changes from Pandorum to Roram

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Miles and Roger quickly followed the girl through the winding alleyways. He managed to follow behind close enough that her silhouette was in view, but she was managing to lose them. Miles and Roger quickened their pace, and they thought they would have her until she just vanished. They didn't expect that. How could she just escape without a trace like that? Miles didn't get it. That is--not until he could hear the sound of footsteps scurrying to the roof. She was planning to make her getaway, so Miles had to act quick. They found a rusted ladder to the roof, which they hurriedly climbed.

Much to Miles' surprise, the roofs were just as confusing to navigate as the alleyways. At least, with the fog in the way. Once again, Miles relied on her footsteps, but he could no longer hear them. He though he had lost her until he could hear some gunshots. Shit! She has a gun? Damn it! I gotta be careful around her. Miles followed the sound of the gunshots, stepping over a few drug dealers and ruffians along the way. The more Miles ran across the roofs, the more it felt like a bad acid trip. He felt like the fog was closing in around him, he could hear voices and screaming everywhere. He felt like he was going to lose it, but Roger snapped him out of it. "Come on, boss, we're not done here yet." Miles shook his head and cleared his thoughts, though his head still was still swimming. He had still managed to trace her until she suddenly stopped. Now was his chance! He ran up to grab her until he saw her jump. Miles was about to follow her until he heard a loud thud. Miles cringed, "Ouch! That had to hurt!" Miles figured the building she tried jumping to was farther than she anticipated, so Miles just had to jump a little farther. He backed up a little, then ran as fast as he could. He jumped into the air, thinking he could land on the roof. However, he underestimated the distance, and ended up crashing through a window. He crashed into the room of a couple in bed, who he politely nodded to before exiting the room and heading down the stairs. The couple had calmed down slightly when Roger followed suit. By this point, the husband had fainted, but Roger also nodded politely, even if he had scared them out of their wits. Miles and Roger hurried down the stairway and into the streets. As they were chasing her, the fog began to dissipate. It soon became clear that the other two bodyguards were up ahead. Miles smirked, thinking that he had won. Still, Miles still felt that there was something else. It was slight, but Miles could hear a footsteps that weren't his or Roger's. Regardless of who else was here, Miles was not planning for his efforts to be wasted. He called out for Starlette, "Come on, princess, I'm not gonna hurt you. I only want to talk."

The setting changes from Roram to Pandorum

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Miles stood in the fog, waiting for Star's next move. In the silence, he finally heard a reply. "Oh, yeah. You just want to talk." He could hear a laugh from her. "Yeah, right, buddy. I've met you're type, last thing you wanna do is talk." She was definitely persistent, but so was Miles. Even if she didn't trust him at first, Miles was going to find a way. He had made it too far for his plans to fail, now. He could hear an alluring voice in the fog, and the sound of someone walking. Suddenly, BANG! Miles could hear the thud as his henchman fell to the ground. Damn it, this girl's got some nerve. If she keeps killing my bodyguards, I'll just have to deal with her, myself. The fact that she killed one of Miles' henchmen had pissed him off, but he kept his composure. The noise from the bang faded away, and it became unnervingly silent. Miles was standing in the fog, waiting for a move.

After a short pause, Star spoke again. "Listen, I ain't got a problem with you. And as far as I know, you don't have no personal problem with me. So why don't we stop this here, before anyone else gets hurt? I'll go my way, you can continue on yours."

Miles knew what she was up to. She was using this an an opportunity to escape, but Miles wasn't going to let her go that easily. Out of nowhere, Roger stepped forward with a gleam in his eye. He called out into the fading fog. "Please, listen to my boss. He made negotiations with your boss, Roarek, but he won't hold his end of the deal until you pay back the money you owe. We don't want to hurt you, we only ask that you cooperate with us."

Roger stepped back, and Miles, once again, had the floor. "Come on, princess, you heard the man. You owe your boss some money, and we need you to pay him back before we can settle our deal. If you need the money, we can help you with that. Just come with us, and we'll have everything settled."

By this point, the fog had nearly subsided. Against his better judgment, Miles pulled out a lighter and lit a smoke. He was clearly done fighting, but whether or not Star was, well, that was a risk he was willing to take. As for Roger, he stared into the clearing mist with an inquisitive look. A lot was on his mind at this point. He was trying to anticipate Star's next move, of course, but there were also other things on his mind. He wondered about Roarek, about the deal they made with him, and if they should be doing this. Of all of the things on his mind, he wondered if they could really trust Roarek. He seemed reluctant to trust them, but why haven't they done the same? Roger cleared his thoughts, thinking that now was not the time to be pondering. The mist was nearly gone, but he still kept an eye out for Star.

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Star was caught in between wanting to laugh and wanting to punch someone in the face. "Roarek, is not my boss." She spoke through clenched teeth. Ah, so the answer to her questions was out there, the bastard Roarek was after her, eh? She knew about him, had done a couple of jobs for him, and like Gerdie, he laid claim to certain percentages to whatever payouts she got. She was tired of having to pay him for jobs that he had no business in, so she stopped paying. He had sent little reminders every once in a while, each one more violent than the previous, but now he sent this guy, she was almost insulted that a beating wasn't promised.

"Roarek, is a pain in my ass, and I owe him nothing." She noticed that the fog was beginning to lift. Even if she did stay here, she would be seen easily soon enough, so she stepped slowly out into the street. She saw the brief flicker of a lighter and then the soft glow of the end of a cigarette. She slowly began walking toward the light with her gun resting against her shoulder, her thumb casually caressing the hammer. "How'd the likes of you get involved with the likes of Roarek?" She stopped with enough distance between them that she could make out their silhouette's, but not their features. "With your fancy dress and all, I'd assume you have enough money... plus Roarek is only an act. He may look fancy, but I can assure you the man is a broke as any one of us. Gamblin' problem and all." She snickered and brushed back some of her hair that had flown around her face since it fell out of her hat.

She briefly surveyed the situation. Two men stood directly in front of her, she assumed the other guy was probably right hand man, or something. She could see shadows moving in her peripheral, but there was no promise it was more henchmen, even though she had seen them in the saloon. She expected them to be flanking her, blocking her way down the street, so even if she did run, without knowing where they were, she was an open target. She felt slightly annoyed that this situation was happening, she owed Roarek a bullet in the knee. But she knew better than to go with this guy. On the streets, she had a chance, but if he were to bring her to Roarek's, he had enough man and fire power, she'd never make it. He also had cruel tendencies that Star had never experienced personally, but had seen. She didn't want to be in that place.

"There's no way he's getting what's mine, so whether that means we settle this like civilized people, or the other way around, I'm getting out of here." Her thumb pulled back on the hammer but she didn't lift it into place, not yet.

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#, as written by Guest
Ryder could only try his best to follow behind, watching events unfold as they did. The Suit (a man who'd only been called "Boss" thus far) was still chasing the girl, the pursuit eventually leading to the rooftops. Ryder watched from around the corner as the Suit clambered up the ladder hurriedly, his pursuit as hot as hellfire, and his eyes hard steel. Ryder's eyes were fixed on an amazing spectacle: the girl had lept from the building up above him all the way over to the building to his left.....well, she made it to the wall at least. He watched as she gracefully shimmied down a pipe, afterward she had to compose herself, and soon she was running again, hiding on the stoop of a building.

Ryder watched as the Suit made the same jump, except he crashed through a window. He had to stifle a laugh, and shied away from the scene, after the girl this time. He watched her intently, as a sand jackal watched a helpless traveler. Ryder could barely make out her face in the mist.....

One of the Suit's henchmen followed up close behind, and much activity occured at once. A gunshot, a lot of speech Ryder couldn't coherently keep up with, and a lot of tension. Slowly but surely, the mist dissipated and made things clearer. The Suit had caught up to the girl, and they were talking. The guy standing next to the Boss opened up his fat mouth with finality, clearly giving the girl an ultimatum: "Come on, princess, you heard the man. You owe your boss some money, and we need you to pay him back before we can settle our deal. If you need the money, we can help you with that. Just come with us, and we'll have everything settled."

The girl spoke this time. "There's no way he's getting what's mine, so whether that means we settle this like civilized people, or the other way around, I'm getting out of here." She then preceded to aim her gun.

The mist was whisked away just enough now. Ryder could see faces. He looked to the girl, and his eyes widened like a crack in thick ice. "Sunnavabitch!" he grumbled, "Star!" He had to act now, before this place turned into a graveyard. That little bitch was in over her head. Ryder had to reload his guns, distributing two bullets to his left gun, and a single bullet to his right. After this maneuver, he whipped around the corner, guns trained on Star and the Suit simultaneously. "Nobody's doin' a goddamn thing! An' if you all wanna live, you'll stay real still!" Of course, these words probably didn't come out as coherent to them as they did to him, but a drunk bounty hunter with two guns was probably message enough.

Ryder sighed a hefty breath, his eyes trained on the girl. "What. The. Hell. Have you done this time, sweetheart?" he asked intensely.

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Miles was certainly intrigued by this recent turn of events. Not only did Star inform him that Roarek is a lying bastard, but there was also a drunk ready to blow some heads off. Miles smirked, amused at the way things turned out. He blew out some of his cigarette smoke before finally interjecting. "People, people, let's not get to blowing each others' brains out just yet. Based on what the sweetheart just said, we got a lying, cheating bastard who's begging for a bullet between the eyes." After this turn of events, Miles was becoming less focused about the situation at hand and more focused on planning how he should crush Roarek's brains for sending him off on this wild goose chase. Miles looked at the drunken bounty hunter. He felt that he was being followed, but this guy? Miles was surprised that a guy in his state managed to keep up.

Miles leered at him while keeping a cocky grin. "Howdy, cowboy. Fancy meeting someone like you around here. I see you got some beef with your girl over here, so I think I'll let you two settle your disputes. As for me, I got a lying schmuck that needs a good bullet in the brains."

While all of this was going on, Roger was thinking about the situation. After hearing what Star said, he began putting the pieces together. A poor man gets a rich man to do his dirty work, expecting him to come back with the money. He doesn't trust us, but expects us to trust him. A poor man, disguised as a rich man, making deals with rich men. Has bandits ready to shoot. Wants the power of rich mens' companies... It hit him. Roger ran up to Miles. "Boss, boss! I figured it out. He plans on ambushing us, with Starlette in our possession. He's been plotting this all along. He wants us to make the deal, only to double-cross us in the end. Boss, I think we should plan this out first, before we go after him."

Miles stopped in his tracks, and looked back at Roger. "Really? And what drew you to this conclusion?"

"Just think about it, why would a poor man disguise himself as a rich man and end up accepting deals with them? Not only that, but he wants us to do his dirty work for him. You heard how he got involved with Starlette, and you also heard about how he turned the tables on her. Not only that, but you saw him planning something when you looked out your window at the hotel. I'm certain that the man is setting us up. I'm telling you, we should be ready before we go up there."

Miles nodded at the statement. "I think you're right, Roger. Perhaps we should plan this..." He looked around at Star and Ryder. "You two are free to join me if you want. Either way, I'm gonna kill that bastard for tricking me like this." Miles called for his henchmen, then proceeded to walk down the alley, smoking his cigarette.

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Star stood dumfounded for a few minutes, in a flurry of events Ryder had made his presence known and a gun was now pointed at her, and the rich guy was having a dialogue between him and his right-hand man. Her gaze slowly made it's way over to Ryder where he stood, guns still lifted into the air, one pointed her way. Her eyebrows furrowed and her hand rested on her hip. "Why don't you watch where you put that thing." She was irritated now, all this drama for nothing. "I ain't done nothing wrong, why does it always have to be me whose done something wrong?!" She was half listening to the other two carry on their conversation. It seemed like Roarek had pissed off a few others, which may be looking good for her cause. She knew she could never take him on herself, but if she had a brute force who wanted him out as well, well that was a cause she could get behind.

She looked back to Ryder who was, obviously drunk. She knew he had a inclination for drink, but she also knew that didn't mean he couldn't take her out quickly with a gun. "Listen, you're drunk. Put that thing down before you shoot the wrong person." She took a few steps his way. "No need for someone to be dead, who don't need to be dead."

"...Either way, I'm gonna kill that's bastard..." Star's head whipped around when she heard that statement.

"Now wait just a minute! If you think you'll be making your way anywhere near Roarek without me or my money, you're sadly mistake. You'll first have to go through his gang, and they wont let you anywhere near him without a statement of death. No, you need something or someone that's gonna get you to him, and someone who knows the ins and outs of his compound and his crew." She could see him now, and the surrounding area. There were, indeed, several of his other men hiding around the area, a couple of them on the roofs. "You've got a good number here, but numbers wont mean anything once you get on his turf, he doesn't play nice with others. A bit of a cheater if I were to call him anything."

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Miles cocked an eyebrow at Star's statement. A man that could outdo Miles? He found it hard to believe at first, but, if Roarek is what Star says he is, Miles was in a rut. Perhaps this girl could be an asset. If she wants Roarek dead as much as I do now, this could be quite beneficial. A person who knows her way around Roarek would be useful, and some extra help would be good, too. Considering how agile this girl was, she would certainly be of use. "Alright, I got ya. Just tell me your plan, then we can get this show on the road."

Before Star could even reply, Ryder shot the cowbell above her head. "My apologies, darlin', premature misfire." Miles looked at Ryder, and Ryder stared back. "I'm not going anywhere until someone gives me answers. Why you chasin' the girl, Mr..." Ryder abruptly stopped his sentence, staring at Miles even more. He stared at him long and hard, until he announced, "Holy shit on a shingle! Miles, you tricky bastard!" He aimed his gun at Miles, and Miles grew cold.

He turned to face Ryder, with an expression in his eyes that made it seem like he wanted his soul. "You've got a lot of nerve, pointing that thing at me. Why don't you put that little toy of yours away before you hurt someone with it?" Miles snapped his fingers, and all of the henchmen from the neighboring rooftops were all aiming at Ryder. "You see, you're not going to hurt me at all. If you so much as twitch that trigger finger of yours, I'll have all of my men shoot you where you stand. So, what'll it be, cowboy? We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

Miles sucked in a considerable amount of smoke from his cigarette, then blew it all out. He threw the cigarette to the ground, then crushed it with his shoe. "You can go on about your petty grudges all night if you want to. As for me, I'm heading back to town." He called for his men, then began walking. He looked back at Star, "If you wanna help kill Roarek, come with me, and tell me your plan on the way."

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Star watched the interaction between the men and stood by silently. She was rather used to this sort of showdown and each man had to prove who had the bigger guns and equipment. Typical man stuff, she could only assume. They apparently knew each other in some way, but who didn't really know something about everyone these days? If you wanted to survive, you had to learn things about everyone, or at least know how to pretend like you do. If you didn't learn to know everyone, you wouldn't get far, survival relied on connections. She knew Ryder had his skills, but under the influence as much as he was, he wouldn't stand a chance in this situation. She lightly padded over to him putting a hand on the arm that held his gun.

"Ryder, how about we put away the gun for now?" She tried to sound small and sweet applying light pressure onto the arm. "You do this now, you're gonna get yourself in a body bag quicker than your knees would meet the ground."

Star turned as the man called Miles spoke to her and began to walk away. She narrowed her eyes in his direction. "And just where you plan on heading? Somewhere your guy don't have eyes on you, right? Not to say he doesn't see this already." She nudged Ryder's elbowed for him to follow. "You gonna stay here, go on your way, or come with?"

She followed Miles on his way but fell behind him a little bit. She didn't trust the man, they both wanted the same thing but that didn't mean he wouldn't turn on her in a second. "If you think you can get to Roarek with money and flash, you got another thing coming." She holstered her gun for the moment but her fingers were itching for any moment she may need to draw quickly. "The man's a slimeball, but he ain't dumb. He's gotten this far for a reason."

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Miles laughed in amusement at Star's comments. "You underestimate me, princess. The thing is, I'm not dumb, either. I don't plan on running in guns a' blazin', which is why I've been thinking of a plan. But first, I'll need someone to go in and find out his plan. After that, I can decide on what to do afterwards. Even if he plans on double-crossing me, I'll bet that he still trusts us. So, once we find out his plan, we can find a way to get close to him and kill him quietly. And, in case that his cronies do find out and we end up exchanging bullets, I'll have my men set up there when we go to kill our man. However, this is all I have down initially. Once we know what his plans are, I'll figure out the rest. You know the place better than I do, so I'll probably need you to sneak up there and find out the plans for me. You get the plans, and we'll have his head before he can blink."

He looked back and noticed that Star was a bit of a distance behind him. He grinned amusingly, "There's no need to be shy, princess. I don't bite. At least, not too bad, haha!"

Roger was close by Star. He looked at her and smiled warmly. "Please forgive my boss, he can be a bit of an ass, sometimes." He seemed to briefly chuckle at his own statement. Even though Roger and Miles were friends, they were notably different. While Miles was greedy and arrogant, Roger was a more tender type. Even if his undying loyalty to Miles has made him do some things he's not proud of, he doesn't regret working for him. "Oh, forgive me," he held his hand out, "my name's Roger, pleased to meet you."

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Star stared incredulously after Miles and shook her head. If there was one thing that ground her gears it was being patronized. "Listen here buddy, for your idea here to work, we're gonna have to learn to work together. And that means you better learn real quick how to play nice with others, or you can find another way into his whole business." She could feel the pink rising to her cheeks as she glared at him. She was interrupted by Roger's speech and blinked at his offered hand.

Grasping it and shaking it curtly she tipped her hat back against her head and crossed her arms. "Ass, is an understatement." She grunted through clenched teeth. "And I ain't shy!" She half shouted towards Miles. "Last thing from it, I just don't like associating with the pompous types." A soft growl sounded in the back of her throat and she turned to look at Roger. "How can you work for a guy like him? He's the type that has too much money, and knows it." She looked him up and down and at the posse around them. "Certainly seems to like to show it off." She looked back at Roger and looked him up and down briefly. "You owe him, or something? I can't imagine you two being the best of friends. You don't strike me as a type like him."

She noticed that the streets were eerily quiet, probably because of the happenings earlier. The tendency was for town to shut in and not bother with anything until the next day, so they would have to find lodging pretty quickly. "Listen, if we go back to the inn I was at before, I have friends there who will let us know what's going on, some guys over there have an in with Roarek, too. So why don't you and your men just come that way." She pointed down an alley near them. "You won't be the most popular, but the way things are going, I'm guessing we're not going to be relying on your charm to get us the information we need. Leave that part to me, you wont get what you need with the impression and reputation you've already made for yourself."

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#, as written by Seraph
The sound of heavy boots treading the path before Star, Roger and Miles himself. The more they walked forwards, the closer it came to them. The silhouette of an old two-pronged hat that folded out along the sides. The clank of the two heavy revolvers at his side became strikingly clear. By the way his feet fell, this man was no drunkard, no simpleton. After all the gunfire--he obviously was either not scared, insane, or knew what was going on. Perhaps it was all three. But the outline of a six foot two man dressed in simple worn denim garments; the rustle of his old duster ruffling in the wind also became apparent. The man's gruff appearance would give most the assumption "bounty hunter" from the light weight of his attire and general overall look--that was until one looked at the tarnished badge on his head that screamed "official".

The two highly detailed revolvers at either hip meant that this man wasn't just some dumb shit ready to get himself shot up. His demeanor would hold an intimidating factor to it. It told anyone that if they underestimated him, undermined him, would pay most dearly for it. Marshal held, betwixt his gloved fingers a cigar. Pre-lit one would find an aroma of cedar, barnyard, and a subtle fruit taste that reminds one of cognac--if they had ever had the chance. The cigar was firm to the touch and the wrapper had only a few small veins. The construction was equally impressive. As Marshal lit up the cigar in-front of them to find a full-flavored smoke with earth, subtle spice, and plenty of cedar. The draw was firm and the solid gray ash was sturdy.

"I hear you been causing a lot of trouble, Miss Starlett. I'll get back to you on my watch I know you stole from me. My acquaintance is with the gentleman beside you there, the one in the suit." Marshal took another, nonchalant drag off his cigar. Surprisingly, he wasn't coming on conceited or condescending with his body posture or even his southern vernacular. "We got rules in this town gentleman. One of those rules: No killing a man cold blood and no bullying. People come and they go to places like this to escape that infernal desolate hellhole outside them gates. The minute your foot touches the city limits--you are in my territory." He placed emphasis on the word 'my'. "I don't own the folks around here, but if we start bringing the world that's out there in here, once we got no rules--we got a problem. I'm supposed to protect and serve, I can't protect and serve the dead. Now I don't care about two-bit thieves and who's cheated who. I'll leave that up to the gentlemen or women to decide. But if the shit hits the fan and there's gotta be a death. There's one plain ole easy as pie rule: You. Don't. Do. It. In. Town--are we clear? I don't care if the drunkard spat on your mommas necklace, you club him and move on. Next time someone mentions a guy in a suit shot a man dead--I'll be around. " He tipped his hat. "Glad I could have a minute of your time." He then glanced at Starlet with an accommodating grin. "Miss, would really appreciate that watch."

Marshal carried on casually sauntering past the trio, gratifyingly smoking his cigar.

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Miles trudged along, ignoring the little speech that Star had given him. He did ignore it, but didn't quite let it off is mind. However, what was really on his mind was Roarek. Yes, that lying scumbag that Miles had made a deal with just hours earlier. Part of him wanted to go up to his little hiding spot and unload all of the lead he could carry, but he knew better than that. The man was powerful, Miles already knew that. Perhaps a bit too powerful? For all he knew, there could be spied everywhere. Miles kept a close eye on his surroundings. The clouds had parted from the full moon, and a halo of moonlight descended upon the town. Miles lit another cigarette while keeping track of the footsteps, windows, just about anywhere a potential spy could be lurking.

Meanwhile, Roger was following close behind, carrying on his conversation with Star. "Ass is an understatement," Star said to him earlier. Roger could tell that she didn't like him very much, and he didn't blame her. First time he met Miles, he pretty much hated the guy. A man with a lot of money and pride can rub people the wrong way. Roger had noticed that Star briefly studied him before asking him the big question. "How can you work for a guy like him?..." Suddenly, a wave of information had come flowing back to him. He was reminded of the day, the day that he and Miles met. She proceeded, "You owe him or something? I can't imagine the two of you being the best of friends. You don't strike me as a type like him."

"You're right," Roger said, "we are nothing alike. To tell you the truth, I hated Miles when we first met. He rubbed me the same impression he did you. A haughty, selfish man who likes to flaunt his money around. With that in mind, I wonder why he even brought us under his wing. See, before Miles found me and the rest of the the bodyguards you're seeing, we were just a tribe of wandering nomads. We dressed and lived in a way that made the mutant tribes to the east seem like high class. We lived miserable lives, going about each day just to find sustenance so that we can see the sun another day. Then, he came along. He brought us all in, giving us food, clothes, shelter, basically everything that we needed in exchange for our loyalty. This is why he and us henchmen seem to have a mutual understanding. Even though you could find more experienced henchmen for hire at New Antetum, Miles took an interest in us. As I got to know him more, he seemed to show a softer side. Really, it seemed like what he really wanted was companionship. Guns for hire can be pretty handy, but they only want money. They don't usually show the same loyalty or mutual understanding that we do. I think Miles took us in because he wanted soldiers that he could trust, soldiers that weren't just in it for the money. For me, he can be a good person when he wants to, but he doesn't usually show it."

Up ahead, Miles walked in silence. As they were walking, Star spoke him. She gave him directions to the hotel they were at before, and Miles nodded. "I got your memo," he said. They took a few more steps before Miles spoke to her again. He spoke in a more pensive tone than he had before. "Okay, I guess I should probably say this now. I know that we haven't been getting along. Hell, we may end up hating each other by the time this is over. The thing is, though, we're after a guy we both want dead, and we both need each other's help to do it. That's why we should just treat this like business if it keeps going on like this. After we're done, we can both go our separate ways, how's that sound?"

Suddenly, Miles was distracted by his talk with Star. He could hear the thud of heavy leather boots walking towards them. Thud. Thud. Thud. They could hear the footsteps get closer until they were standing before a man with an old, worn duster. Miles took one look at his badge and knew what this man wanted. He could see in his eyes that this man had a strict sense of justice, and the will to carry it out without fail. He stared at the man with a cold stare as he was laying down the law. After the man had finished, Miles responded with an emotionless response. "Don't you worry, marshal. No one in this town will be harmed." The marshal casually strolled past the group, but not before mentioning something to star about a pocket watch. The group continued onwards, with Miles letting Star lead them to the hotel.