Announcements: Cutting Costs (2024) » January 2024 Copyfraud Attack » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Member Shoutout Thread » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newcomers » RPG Chat — the official app » Frequently Asked Questions » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Adapa Adapa's for adapa » To the Rich Men North of Richmond » Shake Senora » Good Morning RPG! » Ramblings of a Madman: American History Unkempt » Site Revitalization » Map Making Resources » Lost Poetry » Wishes » Ring of Invisibility » Seeking Roleplayer for Rumple/Mr. Gold from Once Upon a Time » Some political parody for these trying times » What dinosaur are you? » So, I have an Etsy » Train Poetry I » Joker » D&D Alignment Chart: How To Get A Theorem Named After You » Dungeon23 : Creative Challenge » Returning User - Is it dead? » Twelve Days of Christmas »

Players Wanted: Serious Anime Crossover Roleplay (semi-literate) » Looking for a long term partner! » JoJo or Mha roleplay » Seeking long-term rp partners for MxM » [MxF] Ruining Beauty / Beauty x Bastard » Minecraft Rp Help Wanted » CALL FOR WITNESSES: The Public v Zosimos » Social Immortal: A Vampire Only Soiree [The Multiverse] » XENOMORPH EDM TOUR Feat. Synthe Gridd: Get Your Tickets! » Aishna: Tower of Desire » Looking for fellow RPGers/Characters » looking for a RP partner (ABO/BL) » Looking for a long term roleplay partner » Explore the World of Boruto with Our Roleplaying Group on FB » More Jedi, Sith, and Imperials needed! » Role-player's Wanted » OSR Armchair Warrior looking for Kin » Friday the 13th Fun, Anyone? » Writers Wanted! » Long term partner to play an older male wanted »

Plains of Red Dust

Plains of Red Dust

0 INK

A wild west roleplay, full of action, and adventure. Who all knows what else? It goes where the players lead it!

1,514 readers have visited Plains of Red Dust since Vio-Lance created it.

Introduction

The year is 1879. The expansion to the west has begun quite some time ago, and is in full bloom. The Gold Rush is over, and people have started to settle in the Western States. However, most view these often barren plains as lawlessness at it's finest, where bandits can roam from town to town, taking what they want. Dangerous Native Americans also claim the West as theirs; the Apaches in particular.

The roleplay starts in a town called Jakal Flats. It has about 100 people living around it. Cattle hearders usually stop here to rest since it's in the middle of two larger towns that exchange cattle. Bandits and thieves usually tend to stay away from the town directly, because of the strong law enforcement presense, but stay in the areas around it, so they can steal goods before they get into the town, or after they leave it.

There is no real storyline to the roleplay. It starts in Jakal Flats...and depending on the characters that are present, and what happens in the roleplay, is where we'll go. We'll go with the flow. If you want the Roleplay to take a specific turn, then start pushing the story that way. Players have the influince to change what happens! If you want to be a bandit that is here to show up the Sherriff of Jakal Flats, then raise some hell. An apache hunter whom kidnaps one of the main characters? Go for it. There are few limits in the roleplay as long as it is resonable.


Character Skelleton- Not that this is a Skelleton. Feel free to "Flesh them Out" however you want!
(Not in any particular order)

Character's Full Name:

Nicknames or Titles:

Age: (No characters under 10 please)

Race: (Indian, white, black...)

Description: (Be sure to include height and weight, not just appearance!)

Picture: (Not nessicary)

Personality:

Occupation:

Hobbies/Skills/Professions:

Goals:

Equipment: (This would include mounts, maybe even a hideout. Also, if you're a bandit or a gang leader or such, please list how many members are in your gang.)

Weapons:

Short Character Background:
----------
Rules:
1. Please no Godmodding/Metagaming- Do not hit, kill or control other player's characters. NPC's, depending on whom they are, are acceptable.
2. Only 2 characters per Roleplayer, please.
3. Only relevant weaponry and equipment, please.
4. Keep characters relevant to the roleplay. No catgirls, elves or vampires. Humans only please.
5. Players are allowed to be any kind of person given that it is within reason. Bandit, thug, Sheriff, and all others.
6. Please keep activity up. I've been trying to be leniant on my roleplays with this, but I find that becoming soft doesn't keep people around.
- If you have not posted in 3 days, I will PM you letting you know so.
- If you continue to put off posting, you will be given another warning, saying you have one day to post before your character is controlled, killed, or otherwise removed from the roleplay.
- If you ignore my PM and do not respond at all within those two days, your character is allowed to be controlled, killed or otherwise removed from the roleplay.
- If you are going to be gone for more that 5 days, let me know. I will excuse you from my PM's, but your character after 5 days, will be controlled by another player of your choice or of volunteering.
7. If you have any questions, or problems, feel free to PM me, and I will get back to you, post-haste.

Toggle Rules

The GM of this roleplay hasn't created any rules! You can do whatever you like!

The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 5 authors

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Leeanne sighed as she strolled through town. Jakal Flats had never been one for too much action, and even when there was something going on, her father usually had stopped it dead in it's tracks.... She sat down on the stoop of a saloon, and looked around. The yellowish-red dust danced in the road, between the length of buildings that made up the small town, and the sun beat down on everything in sight. Her face was shaded by her hat, but it didn't make the heat any more unbearable. It was always hot in the summers of Arizona.

A pair of men walked out of the saloon, one holding the other up, probably due to being drunk. She eyed the guns on their hips. The Colt handguns were older models, and had a blackened steel finish. It made her realize how nice hers were, especially being handmade. She then thought of how lucky she was to be able to carry them around with her! But she looked back out to the shifting sands of the town, and looked out.... It would happen someday. She'd just have to wait on it. The day where she might be able to leave. She didn't want to be a wrangler or anything like that in particular, just one of the ones the wranglers hired for protection. But that was a fat chance. After all, who in their right mind would hire a teenager like her over one of the more rough and tumble guys that hung around their little town?

She pulled one of the revolvers she had out of the holster slowly, showing others that might've been watching that she didn't intend to use it. Making sure that the hammer wasn't pulled back, she began to twirl the handgun, the silvered steel finish gleaming in the sun. She spun it backwards, forwards, then backwards again. Stopping the gun, she even tossed it up in the air, and catching it at just the right time to be able to continued the display. She smiled to herself. She could amuse herself for a few minutes with her gun tricks, before finally becoming bored again, and reholstering the weapon.

She looked back over the town again. Perhaps today was just another day where nothing in particular interst was going to happen, she though as she pushed herself to a stand...

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Wonderful, I thought. I was already a little late getting back. I wouldn't have been surprised if my brother was looking for me. It wasn't like I was on my own. But those people Aunt Lenora liked selling her cattle to so much held me up. How was it my fault I lost one or two because of those bandits? Did they expect me to fight them off? Me, who can't shoot a gun to save my own life? Right. I led Eli around by his lead; I thought he might have been a little tired because I had been on his back all day. Well...at least they had given me the pay for the cattle I did bring to them; it wasn't a complete waste.

But, as it was, I was walking through Jakal Flats. There was no way I'd make it back home before it got dark; I would have to leave in the morning. I gave a little sigh, and glanced at the outskirts of the town. I would have to wait here the night. But I was normally a little earlier...and never actually had to stay in the town. So now I had to figure out where I was supposed to stay. A little flash caught my attention, and I looked up to see a girl holstering her gun. After a quick glance around, and a moment of debate, I gave a little sigh and walked up. "I'm sorry to bother you...but do you know where I might stay the night?" I hadn't really wanted to ask anyone, but that was all I had left to do.

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Lee looked towards the woman that now approached her. She had a horse following her, and she looked a tad weary. She asked for a place to rest. "Well, about six or seven houses down, there's an inn. You can stay there for the night, won't cost you much." She said. "You've got money, don't'cha?" Leeanne asked the woman with her eyebrow raised. She could've sworn she'd seen the girl somewhere before....

She leaned out from under the shade of the building's roof she was under, and pointed directly at the building in question. She then offered a kind smile. "Carlton might have rooms left, but I'm makin' no promises..." She said. Truthfully, the inn was nearly full all the time. With all the traffic they got coming through, it wasn't surprising. "Go and see if he's got rooms open...and.... And if not, I guess my father wouldn't mind having a guest over. Can't let you sleep out in the cold, no." She said, still bearing her smile.

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

I gave a little smile. "Actually, the money I have on me now I"m supposed to return to my aunt. Normally I can just pass through, and normally do have money, but I was running a little late this time; bandits, you know." I shook my head. Tht was the first time I had been bothered by them, really. I thought I saw a little hint of recognition on her face. Maybe she stayed here, and had seen me passing through before. I glanced down at the building she pointed out. "Maybe I should start hiding my money on these trips, then, huh?" I asked, somewhat embarrassed. And my aunt had said something doing that, too...I should have listened. Stubborn me. Didn't think I would be bothered. "I don't really want to bother you too much..."

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by dig17
Frank was trying to figure out how much he owed Mr. Davis. Numbers hadn't ever been his strong suit; it was like he was completely incapable of adding or subtracting. He would have asked Mr. Davis how much he held in his hand, but he didn't trust people with what little money he's able to spend any more than he trusted a gun without a firing pin. He grunted to himself in impatience as he sorted out the cash in his hand.

"Sorry, Jim, what was it?"

"$12.20, Sarge."

"$12.20...."

Frank looked down. At first he was slightly confused from hearing a 12 and then a 20, but he thankfully remembered the cents portion of it. He looked down at a ten dollar bill and a five dollar bill, reconfirming in his head that 15 was larger than 12. 10, 11, 12....14 or 13, the teens, and then 15. He slapped the two bills down on the table and nodded his head in confirmation.

"15."

"Alright, gimme a second to get your change."

As Davis bent over, struggling to get into his brand new register, Frank observed familiar scars on his arms. It brought him back to Petersburg; the trenches, the rain, the mud, the wet powder, moldy bread, the bayonets and blood.....good times.

"You remember Big P, Davis?"

"Yeah, what about it?" the register rung out as he hit it on the top.

"Just thinking about how we all went for a swim in one of those craters after taking Stedman. Boy howdy, we were like little boys that just got out of school. We couldn't wait to get in those craters filled with rainwater."

Davis laid Frank's change out on the counter and closed the register with a smack, then reaching into his back pocket.

"Yeah, fishing those bodies out wasn't the best fun, but as soon as we did, we had some good times."

Frank cracked open his soda bottle as Davis opened an old, dented Scotch flask.

"I gave you back 30 cents, soda pop is on the house, Sarge. Frontier Brigade."

They clinked the bottles together.

"Frontier Brigade."

They took a drink and Frank picked up his pack, filled with his newly bought goods, and began walking toward the door.

"See ya in a week, Jim."

"Cheers, Frank; don't croak, old timer."

Frank waved off the inside joke as he stepped out. He was blinded by the sun as he did, and tripped over the first step down and collapsed over his misplaced balance. His items went spilling all over the street of Jakal Flats, and he cried out as he landed on his ass.

"Son of a bitch!"

He tried picking himself up as he heard Davis cackling inside the store.

"Yeah, just remember I saved your ass at the Crater, Davis!"

He brushed the dust off his trousers and felt his back ache as he began reaching down to repack the goods, angrily grunting as he began slowly bending over.

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Leeanne shook her head at the other woman. "No, it's alright. You'd not be much trouble. My father puts up with me all the time, after all." She said, with a mischevious smirk. "And trust me. It seems we've been gettin' more and more of the bandits, and they're just inchin' closer and closer to Jakal Flats. But I'm not too worried. If they get a little anxious to cause some trouble, my father'll put 'em in their place real quick." She would state. "But hiding your money isn't such a bad idea outside of town."

Lee looked the girl up and down again...something about her. Perhaps.... "You've been around here before.... havent you? I mean.... I could almost swear that I've seen you before! Would you mind if I asked you your name?"

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

I smiled back. "That would be great. And you might have seen me before, though I only pass through so often. My name is Crystal; I'm usually the one that ends up moving the cattle for sale," she answered. So she did thinkg she recognzed me. Probably had only seen me passing though here every now and then. ...Though I didn't ever recall seeing her before. Maybe I was just focusing on the cattle a bit much; though that was probably a good thing. keep them from running off. "I think I need to find a place to hide my money first, before I actually can."

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

"Can't say I know any good places, Crystal. You can call me Lee, by the way...." Leeanne began to start off, when across the street, a elderly looking fellow came stumbling out of the establishment. He took a few steps, before tumbling off the steps, and dropping all of his things. She had seen the older man before....she knew him. He was around the place for a while, but she hadn't seen much of him of late. His name was Frank, and he was a vet for the Civil War. Many a time had he shared his stories with her. War was terrible, but at least he shared only the not so terrible parts; the ones filled with good times and acts of heroism.

"Well, it's nice aquaintin' you, Crystal! Like I said, check with Carlton down at the inn...and if he's filled up for the night, you can come over to my place to stay. I'll make sure mother and paw have a little extra cooked for tonight, just in case!" She said, standing, and giving a little bow. "Take care of yourself in the meantime!" She said, before stepping off the stoop, walking across the street, and stopping a few feet from her veteran friend.

"Need a hand there, Sarge?" She said, adressing the man by his rank. She knew he was called that by near all of his friends. She began to collect together his things for him, handing each to him with a smile. " How's your back been, old-timer? You holdin' out alright?" She asked with a smirk, knowing perfectly well that he'd be damned to let something as mediocre as his back from getting around.

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Go over to her place? ...Which...was where? She hadn't said. I shrugged, though, and started down to the place she had pointed out. I glanced back, seeing her help someone else out. From the looks of things, she knew him. ...Well, I'd probably be able to find her out later if I asked about her by name. I glanced around, though that probably wasn't necessary here. There never seemed to be bandits here, but the habit I had developed wandering around outside this town wouldn't quit. I had to make sure. I tied Eli, my horse, nearby and patted him before walking in and asking about a room. Of course; full. I didn't want to go and bother Lee again so soon, so I just walked around the town a little, leading Eli.

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by dig17
Frank was barely paying attention when someone came over and started helping him. It was a girl, he judged by the sound of their voice,

"Oh," He looked over at the person, recognizing Bob Bretter's girl, Lee. In that moment, Frank observed that Bob was a fat man; the stature must have slipped his mind all these years. "howdy, Lee. I appreciate your help; just like your daddy, y'know that? Why, I tell ya," Frank was packing the items he had collected closest to him inside his pack tightly. "Your daddy's a good man. I remember he saved my ass down in New Mexico during the war." He then observed his dropping of his syllables, notably in 'Mexicuh'. "I ever tell ya about that?" He didn't wait for a response.

"We was down near this town called Glorieta Pass, and there were about 1000 Rebs down in there trying to hold it. Now, your daddy stood behind me in the battle line, he always fired his rifle right over my shoulder, and we're moving out to flank these Rebels, and they've got guys all perched up on the walls of this canyon. Now, they're mainly trying to pick off our artillery men, because they're putting a beating on the main Confederate lines, so we come in to try and get them down or away or something, and these sons of bitches get lost or something, and we wind up right on top of them. So, they're coming at us with their big Texas knives, and we don't have time to fix our bayonets on our rifles, so we get caught by surprise. I'm fighting this big ol' Indian man, and I swear, I thought I was gonna die right the on that ridge, and in comes Bretter, clonking this man right across the jaw with his shovel. He goes flying off of me, and your daddy chases this guy around with this rusty old shovel for about a minute before they're all either dead or gone."

Lee had collected the rest of his things, and he presented his pack to her, holding it open wide. He grunted in a sudden embarrassment.

"Sorry, Lee, you've probably heard that story before. Your dad worked hard in the war, and I remember him for it. Sorry if I bore you sometimes; old timers like myself can't help but live in the past. The war was a big part in our lives. And Goddammit, if he wasn't the best shot in the whole Frontier Brigade; we don't forget things like that."

He smiled at her, looking with tired eyes into her youthful ones.

"I do appreciate the help, either way, little lady; helping out this old fart must run in the family."

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Leeanne smiled, as she continued to help the man. He began on a tale about him and her father back during the Civil. She could only grin, and picture his story in his head. She knew her father was a great shot. But he never spoke of the Civil like Frank did. He kept his mind on he job, she supposed. She could simply imagine him chasing some of the bandits out of town with a rusty shovel. He finished with an appology.

"Aww, no problem, Frank. And even if I heard that story one-hundred times over, it wouldn't get old. I know you know I love your war stories, since my father don't tell 'em. That reminds me, I'll have to chase him down so you two can sit down for a while, perhaps have a nice drink with one-another." She said with a smirk, fitting the last object into his bag.

She giggled at the old fart comment. "Maybe. But I think that it's a little more than that, friend. Can't let a buddy go without help." She said, reaching around him and patting his shoulder with a grin. "But perhaps it's just 'cause I like you, Frank. You'd help my paw in a heartbeat, so I guess I'm just returnin' the favor."

She walked down the street in the direction he was headed. "So! You get any shootin' done lately? Any new guns? Anything new at all?" She asked curiously, looking over to him.

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by dig17
Frank closed up the pack and slung it over his shoulder. She was a nice girl; she looked kinda like her dad when he had hair.

"Nothing really; I've been kept Well, anything I want gun-wise has to be special-ordered by Jim, since he's the only feller in town who has a permit to sell 'em. But, just between you and me," He leaned towards her, very secretive. "I've put some money into some experimental British revolvers. They're break-top, like the Schofield, but you don't have to pull the hammer back with your thumb every time you want to fire; it does it by itself when you pull the trigger. There's also some guys working on a shotgun that's tube-fed, like repeater rifles. The future of the gun market is looking good, my dear."

He took a deep breath and tugged upward on his own gun belt, readjusting its position on his hip.

"And, of course, they're making cartridge conversions for the old blackpowders we used in the war. Even my old LeMats use brass now, even the shotgun barrel, but to be fair, my buddy in the Second Colorado made it for me. Sergeant James is somewhere in Denver now, pulling wagons last time I saw him."

He scratched his beard and rubbed his face somewhat violently before he continued.

"Anyway, nothing new on my farm for the most part. You still carrying around them Peacemakers?"

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

"Suuure do, Frank!" She said with a grin. She drew one from the dark leather holster, flipped it around to grasp it by the barrel, and held it out to him. "They're real nice. Someone back East made 'em, and sent them to Father. He didn't nonewhat like 'em, so he gave 'em down to me. Though I'm pretty sure it was just that I kept pestering him for some of my own. My oldest sibling said he got his first at ten!" She said, smirking. She would let him examine the gun to his heart's content. She then responded to his prattle about guns.

"Brittish six-shooters? Yeah, I heard 'bout those. That what's his name....Webster, Webing...something like that. If he can make it work, he'll have to make two extra for me. Though I'd rather have a side-cylinder, a top loader ain't bad." She scratched her chin. "A...lever shotgun? Shoot! That sound like a nasty witch right there! It's a pain to break those double barrels down!" She continued.

"But, anyhow.... Glad nothin's troublin' ya, Frank. It's good to have you around, and I know my Dad likes someone to chat with on his "days off". Nice to have you and a couple of other vets around town!"

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Remember, your ma wouldn't want you to die like this....

Hungarian half-bred hooves thundered across the plains in a desparate flight of survival. The rubble, dirt, and vegetation parted from the powerful steed like a splitting wave. The rider atop the mount turned behind him to gaze upon the great clouds of dust that lay in the aftermath of the horse's stampede, only to curse alout when the forms of a dozen or so mounted men appeared like demons from the clouds, their guns reflecting visciously in the bright sun.

His chasers were all garbed in the standard confederate infantry apparrel, strange for 1879. The civil war had been over for about fourteen years so why were these men adorned in such outfits?

Coast had been patrolling the New Mexico territories in the aftermath of the Civil War, bands upon bands of former Confederate soldiers were still sore 'bout the defeat by the Union. They weren't happy to accept expansionist claims, and sure as hell weren't happy to see their way of life drastically change. So the more violent bands went across the land, terrorizing those either returning home from Union lines or harassing those who were either accepting of change, or accepting of the abolition of slavery.

During the war, Coast had served in a gang known as the "Dam". Initially their agenda consisted of only preventing the war from reaching the New Mexico Territories, so they would engage both Union & Confederate ranks, supply lines, diplomatics, ect. Obviously they would fail in their agenda, as some skirmishes did eventually break out between the two opposing armies. Still however the Dam were feared, and they kept thousands upon thousands of sons from going to war to lose their lives.

The time of the dam was long gone however, for at the end of the war the surviving members went their separate ways to start a new life in their changing world. However Coast had grown up to be a man with the Dam, and hunting was all that he knew. So he wandered the land, dealing justice to those sore Confederates in any ways could. While violence was never his initial means of doing so, most of his encounteres eventually unded up in bloodshed.

Such was the case with these dozen men now chasing after him. Coast had found a meeting of former confederate soldiers trying to rally themselves to "take their lands back from the Yanks". When verbal democracy had failed, he decided to end thier little meeting with a more effective means...

TNT.

So they were pissed, and had tailed him for about 10 miles in the open wilderness. They were riding hard, firing with thier pistols and rifles. It was through sheer skill that Coast was able to maneuver his mount to dodge the incoming fire. Still however he could hear their bullets fly by him, and could even see explosions of dust arise from the ground where some shells landed.

"Come on Whiskey!" he yelled as he snapped on the reigns. The horse neighed boisterously and went even faster, giving Coast enough space to wrap both sets of fingers around the beautiful ebony handles of a pair of Remington .44 revolvers resting eagerly in their holsters. His pursuers fanned out at the sight of his guns now drawn. Both hands went back and forth like pistons as he let the fire fly! Three loud explosions sounded, the first two shots missing their marks but the third bullet visciously entered the abdomen of a pursuer who had inched a little ahead of the rest. He tumbled off his mount, rolling violently on the ground as his horse fled in terror.

The others continued their chase, Coast only had one more chance to fire before his horse made a sharp turn, missing a large cactus which nearly threw Coast from off his mount. "God Damnit!" He yelled as one of his revolvers was sacrificed so that his hand could desperately hold onto the reign. He quickly holstered the other and came thundered across the summit of a hill, his eyes widening at the sight before him.

There was a town! And it didn't seem to be that much farther away! Coast snapped on the reigns once more, kicking the sides to make Whiskey fly like he never has before. His pursuers continued to fire, but Coast had managed to make it to the city.

However they still continued their pursuit!

Suprisingly, Coast felt a surge of heat from his right arm, a bullet had shot a chunk of flesh from his tricep which made him howl in pain. It hurt like hell and jumping from his mount to come to a rolling stop didn't help the matter any. His duster revealed the wound to not be too deep, however his blood still stained the ground that he landed on. Coast desperately searched for a place to take cover, and quickly ran behind a nearby blacksmithing station. He prayed that his horse kept on going, he'd be mad as hell if they brought whiskey down...

The eleven men entered the town. Their rifles, shotguns, and pistols at the ready as they threw out their challenges to their quarry. "C'mon out boy!" One of them shouted. "You hidin ain't gonna make it any less hotter for ya in hell boy!".

Coast peered around the corner of the building, training his gun on the man who called him out. His revolver fired true, the echo of the explosion prologuing the man falling down to his knees, a large bullet hole erupting from his clavicle.

"Kill that sumbitch!" He cried as his men opened fire.

The firefight in Jackal Flats had begun.

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

I looked up sharply, tightening my grip on Eli's reigns. Gunshots...here? There hand't been anything like that any other time I had passed through. I saw a horse running by, riderless, and tied Eli nearby, tugging once to make sure they were secure. Curiously, I walked the direction the horse had come from, and ducked back behind the corner of a building. I shouldn't get involved, I told myself. But for something like this to happen...it didn't happen every day. So I went around the other side of the building, and peeked around another corner. I could see a group of people, and that they were shooting at something. I had never been fond of weapons like that; made too much noise, and everyone would kow you were shooting something or someone. I tried to see what it was they were shooting at. I heard one yelling about killing someone, and took a step back; or tried to, anyway. I wanted to know what was happening, but I couldn't just up and ask them. They all had guns! I watched, curious as to what exactly they were up to, and why they were trying to kill whoever it was they were trying to kill.

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by dig17
Frank stopped in his tracks, his mind going somewhere else as he heard distant pops and thuds. They were familiar; very familiar indeed. He eventually heard horse hooves trampling in behind him and Lee at a rapid pace. He looked back and saw a series of riders, and if it hadn't have been for the guns in their hands, he would have assumed it was some stupid kids racing. He grabbed ahold of Lee and took them both to the ground hard as the riders passed them, continuing to fire as they charged down the street. Frank watched carefully before picking himself and Lee up, grabbing ahold of her other Peacemaker before she could draw it. He looked her dead in the eye as the men, in Confederate uniforms, called out someone hiding behind Old Man Ebert's blacksmith shop.

"Lee, you listen to me REAL good: I'mma keep these pistols because you've got a half a mind to use them. You go back inside your daddy's store and stay there until it's safe; I'll give you back your guns when it's safe for you to use them. Don't come out for anything, not even for me."

With that, he whirled around and tucked the Peacemakers in his gunbelt, taking off his greatcoat from the war and carefully took a knee beside the horse trough. He retrieved his Evans repeating rifle and a bandolier of .44 rounds from the horse's side saddle and slung each over both shoulders. He made sure his LeMats and Remington 1875 were on hand as he heard another shot, and saw a man drop in the Confederate group. Frank got up immediately and walked slowly toward the group of men firing, doing a brass check in the Evans as he approached.

"Howdy, fellas, what's happen-"

Frank was immediately fired upon by two men with Colt 1851 revolvers, probably with Mason-Richards cartridge conversions. He quickly brought the Evans under his arm and fired, worked the action as he strafed right, fired again with the stock in his arm, and forced a man spinning violently to the left as Frank fell buckled under his old legs and took a knee in an awkward position, nailing another man in the lower gut. Frank ejected the spent round and rolled quickly behind Steven Bowler's candy store as he took more fire.

"Come on, now fellas, let's talk this thing through!"

"Stay out of this, peasant, or we'll kill you too!" One of them was yelling from around the corner. Afterwards, Frank's aging ears, though battered from explosions and general unnecessary noise, could make out orders for a flanking maneuver around the blacksmithy before the fire resumed and the sounds of spurs began trampling in motion.

Frank quickly began walking around the other side of the candy store, the Evans in his hands. He saw the first man come around without checking his corners, and Frank blasted away until the man stopped standing. He felt the all-too-familiar stovepipe jam as the man, wearing Sergeant chevies, ate dirt, and in need of immediate firepower, Frank slung the rifle over his shoulder and drew out the Peacemakers, the closest weapons to him, in the nick of time as a second man, wearing a cavalry hat, fired twice with either an untrained eye or a poorly-made weapon past Frank. Frank's thumbs were perfectly in tune with his index fingers as the second man took .45s all over his torso in a wide grouping and slumped up against the wall of the blacksmithy, blood trailing after his body. Frank saw a third man emerging and as he began firing to meet the man, he hid behind the cover of the wall and began firing blindly at Frank, who ducked low under the shots. Frank shot the man's exposed foot out from under him which forced him to land right out in the open, to which Frank shot him in the side of his head. Tossing the Peacemakers down, he drew out his Remington 1875, and as he passed the alley between the blacksmithy and the candy store, he fanned the hammer fast, keeping the bandits down without firing a single shot in return until he was not in sight.

Frank found himself coming up on their target, a man wearing a long brown duster and attempting to extract the shells from a Remington .44 with panicked, shaky hands. Frank, a demeanor on his face that could almost be read as bored, slumped down next to the man and took the Evans rifle off his shoulder.

"Don't bother, kemosabe, it'll take forever; just use this guy instead. It's an Evans repeating rifle, chambered in .44, and take this bandolier, too."

Frank worked the action, undid the brass jam, and uncaringly shoved the rifle in the man's hands before he threw the bandolier around his neck. The man quickly leveled his own Remington at Frank in reflex to his sudden presence in the middle of a firefight.

"Oh, don't point that damn thing at me. It's empty and I'm not one of those Goddamn scumbags. You've got 25 shots left, I figure, so fire away."

Frank reached into his gunbelt and retrieved his last loaded weapons, the famous LeMats, and forced the hammers back quickly. He then noticed the man was wounded, but didn't say anything; nobody said anything at Petersburg.

"Look, guy, I'm a farmer, I don't have time for this bullshit. I was in the war, so I know what I'm doing. Just do what I say and we can make it out of this with our heads on."

Frank pointed to Mr. Brown's livery across the street.

"See that livery? Dash in there, there's gonna be a counter that's got tools packed away underneath it. Jump over the counter on the other side and you'll have some good cover between you and these people that want you dead. Keep them occupied here, I'm gonna finish off the guys that're trying to wrap around the left side of the building here, and then I'll come to your aid and give whoever's left a little howdy doody from the rear. You just keep your head on and we'll be okay; that gun's a straight shooter and it works just like a lever rifle. Rear-fed tube magazine, so-"

Another man came from around the corner that Frank did, and Frank met him with the report of the shotgun barrel of one of the LeMats.

"Rear-fed tube, so put the rounds into the back like you would the front on a Winchester lever rifle. This sound like a plan, kemosabe, or do you wanna do something different?"

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Lieutenant Alfred Krieger sat calmly atop his bay gelding, Lanze, as he led his command towards the town of Jakal Flats. Behind him he could hear the sounds of horse hooves, the creak of wagon wheels, and the occasional cough or whinny from one of the men or horses. This wasn't Alfred's first choice of assignments, heck it was even in his top ten, but he had his orders and he always followed orders. Besides, there was always the possibility of repelling on indian raid, or fighting local outlaws and bandits, or something else of that nature. It was a perfectly honorable thing to protect these townsfolk and the people who lived in the surrounding areas. And at least he would be staying in one place as opposed to riding up and down the country side.

Something pulled Alfred from his thoughts. Putting his hand up to signal the men to halt, he carefully surveyed his surroundings. As the men came stopped he could now clearing here what had pulled him out of his revery. Gun shots. He hadn't heard them do to the sounds of travel and his own distractedness. And they seemed to be coming from the direction of their destination.

"Form up! Hancock and McCullen, stay with the wagon." Alfred barked out the orders, turning slightly in his saddle to watch his his men formed up in a line abreast to his right, two falling back to stay with the wagon. "Gun crew will follow. Company, forward at a trot!" Shouting the last part, Alfred turned and kicked Lanze forward, his men following his example. He could see them maintain there position and closing the gap between him and them. They quickly reached the crest of a hill, where Alfred order another halt.

Below them was the town of Jakal Flats. It was a small town, ussually not worth bothering with. Alfred and his men were there to deal with any threats to the settlers in the immediate vicinity. It appeared that they just in time. "Company, weapons ready!" Alfred watched his men pull out their pistols. Alfred couldn't resist the desire to draw his saber, the fine steel flashing in the sunlight. "Gatling will follow us down and deploy at the end of the main street. Fire only if absolutely nessecary. Company, forward at the walk."

Alfred led his men down the hill. There was a gunfight going on in the middle of the small town. "Company, forward at the trot!" He cried out as they were about half way down the hill. The majority of the gun men seemed to be attacking only a few men, and the rest of the townsfolk seemed to have fled. The gunmen were dressed in all grey, like they were Confederates or something. They were only a few hundred yard from the town now and the bandits seemed to have not noticed them.

"COMPANY, CHARGE!" Alfred shouted, bringing his arm down and pointing at the enemy with this saber. His men let out a roar as they spurred their horses forward! The sound of shouting men and the thunder of horse hooves brought the bandits to the attention of this new threat, but it was to late. Pistols fired as his men poured into town. There was no way these men, who were indeed dressed in Confederat uniforms, could stand against this charge. They almost immediately broke apart, running for their lives in every direction.

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

What was this new group charging down? They looked like they were trying to stop these ones already in the fight. I glanced around, and wondered if I might be able to find out what was going on, besides the fact that they were hunting someone. Or seemed to be, anyway. I couldn't find anything that I could do without hurting myself. I moved around, finding my way around to another building, to get a closer look. I watched, curious as to what exactly was going on. I tried to move myself closer, but didn't want to leave Eli on his own for too long; didn't want someone taking him. Still, I moved as close as I possobly could, trying to get a better view. It was a little hard to see, though. I pouted, still trying to make out the situation.

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

The number of these bastards who had chased him into town had been drastically reduced. Their fire was no longer concentrated on his position and the sound of gunshots from a position parallel to his own had indicated that someone else had joined in against these bastards. Coast peered over the side of the building and caught sight of one of them trying to reload his shotgun. He stretched out his arm, trained his gun on the man and let the fire fly. The man dropped to the ground, grasping at his throat as blood burst forth from the wound. Coast was going to shoot at the next man, but he heard that all to familiar empty *click* that he hated to hear during a firefight.

Wounded and with his arm hurting like hell he tried desperately to reload his gun, just knowing that man was going to try and take advantage of the situation...

That's when he thought he heard Sadhat, one of the members of his former gang talking to him. Sadhat had been the eldest of the gang, damn near 50 and had seen the most combat outta all of them. A deserter of the Civil War Sadhat had traveled to the frontier and after joining up with the gang became one of the most determined to keep the war from reaching the New Mexico territories. He had watched as boys got splintered and split apart by cannon and rifle fire, as families were torn apart while sons fought fathers and brothers killed each other. As senseless as the gang's goal was, Sadhat was a firm believer in keeping more from going off to war and died in that quest. Ironically, Sadhat had died while helping Coast escape being pinned down by Confederate rifle fire when the gang had intercepted a company of soldiers setting up an ambush for a band of Mojave Indians that had assisted the group. Out of all the members of the Gang Coast had respected Sadhat the most....

But when he snapped back to reality, it wasn't Sadhat saving him again but yet a stranger, armed quite well. He couldn't help but point the rifle that had somehow been placed in his hands at the man, hell he was scared and figured himself to be a goner. He was almost in a trance when the man had spoke to him. This guy was a soldier and knew how to fight. The instructions that he gave Coast sounded smart, and the bandolier that he put 'round his neck gave him a surge of confidence that was well needed. He didn't even pause as the stranger dropped the man that Coast knew was going to flank him earlier, and dashed towards the livery that the he had pointed out.

Bullets flew past Coast in his dash, he was able to get off a shot before he made it within the store but it had missed. Just as the stranger had told him he vaulted over the counter, landing hard on the arm that was still bleeding. He cursed aloud, giving away his new position to some attackers. "Damnit...." was all he said.

They ran towards the livery, but the rifle that the stranger had given him was a beauty! Her shots rang out loud in the store but the two targets that Coast had made dropped to the ground in silence. One had a bigger hole where his eye socket had once been and the other's heart now had a bullet keeping the beat from continuing.

Coast kept his fire up, ducking as the wood around him splintered by the bullets that crashed into them. He wiped the sweat from his brow, steadying himself to pop up again and return fire when he heard the sound of a charge accompanied by the screams of the confederates fleeing the scene.

They took off in all directions, the few that were left scattering into the surrounding wilderness. Coast ran from the store and tried to pursue but they had made it to their horses and were flying as fast as they could. He trained the rifle in his hand on the back of one of the riders that were trying to flee. However his hands were shaky and his shot rang out, missing his intended mark.

The bullet however did shatter the man's ankle, causing him to topple from his horse. He crashed to the ground hard, screaming in agony while holding the bloodied limb with both hands swearing to the heavens. The others that Coast could see were too far gone now, so he sighed and walked towards the man who had been taken down. He reached down to his left leg and removed a long hunting knife from it's sheath. When he arrived to where the man had landed he crouched down and viciously grabbed the man by his hair, raising his head up while pressing the knife hard against the man's neck.

"There's more of ya'll bastards ain't there" Coast said as he gave the man's hair a sharper tug. The man was steadily defiant, spitting at Coast before speaking out.

"Ya goddamn right there are boy, and the fellas that made it out are gonna get the rust of us to send you, and everyone else in this town to hell!"

Coast had dodged the wad of spit that had flown at him and slammed the mans face hard into the dirt, breaking the man's nose as he gave out another scream of pain. "Ya'll ain't even confeds are ya'll? You sure 'as 'ell don't fight like'em..."

The man simply kept telling Coast to go to hell over and over again. With a sigh of irritation, Coast slit the man's neck. Slowly he rose back up to his feet to turn back towards the town. He wanted to find his horse and get the hell out of dodge. Coast knew there was some truth to the man's words. While they hadn't been confederate soldiers, they would be back and in much greater number. It had happened too many times before. More than likely this was just a very large group of people who posed as confederates to spread whatever message they wanted. Still, they were dangerous and not the sort of crowd Coast wanted to piss off.

He wanted nothing to do with them at this point...

But as he continued to walk his vision began to fade in and out. He stumbled a little and remembered that he had lost a good amount of blood from the wound but still tried his best to walk, talking out loud to spur himself forward.

"Gotta...get...the hell...outta"

He fell down to his knees, both arms feebly trying to hold himself up from falling on his face but it failed. As the world became dark the last thing he remembered thinking was: Momma wouldn't want me to die like this...

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Lee heard the sounds of gunshots in the distance. It was a sound she had quite familiarized herself with.... But here in Jakal Flats, a gunfight? It must've been someone trying to steel Jackson's inventory again. Tough old shit would hunt you down to the ends of the earth for picking something up and not paying for it.... But no, more and more shots poured on, and she began to panic.

The young girl nodded as Frank said he'd hold onto her SAA's, and told her to hide. She wasn't going to argue...since he did have her guns...and she WOULD've used them... But seeing how she was unarmed, she couldn't do anything. She ran up the stairs and into the building, taking hiding like a dog in a storm. She raced inside, and up the stairs. The two story house had a window in every direction, and she could most likely aid her friends with the rifle that her father....

She met her father at the top of the stairs. He was in his black leather duster, the silvered sherriff star pinned to it. He had the rifle in his hands, and both of his colt revolvers on his hips. She smiled at him, and he returned a nod, before they passed. There goes that plan. She thought. She ran to each window, checking what she could see from each. Compared to the single story abodes and shops around her, she could see quite well....

Finally, she saw the firefight. Watching as Frank, and the other fellow....and she could see other shots supporting them, presumedly her father. They were slowly leveling the men that were causing the problem. But then she heard the thundering of horse hooves.... She poked her head out the window, and looked around, seeing it. What looked like a platoon of soldiers was coming to their aid?! What in the world...? They even had a military Gatling! They charged into the others, and they began to flee, demoralized. She gave a little whooping cheer. She threw one leg out of the window, and slowly put the other out. She let herself drop onto a few empty crates that she had kept stacked outside every window... just for if she wanted to sneak out at night.

She ran back towards the sourec of the firefight, grinning like a mad dog. Once she came upon the group she began to laugh. "Hahahaa! That was great, you guys! Great!" Was about the only thing she could utter.

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

I didn't even try to come out until I saw Lee again. I came out, looking around. Plenty had died...but they kinda deserved it, hunting down one man in such a large group, really. I glanced around. I could have sworn I saw one go down only injured...where did he go? There he was; unconscious. I looked around before mocing to try to help him up, but he was out. I glanced around again, wondering if anyone was really noticing. It looked like everyone who had been shooting was either dead, or gone...at least, those who had looked like they were hunting someone. Which, I guessed, was this man. I didn't recognize his face as one that was usually in this town...or one of those shooters. "Hey; I think this was who they were after," I said, more hoping to get the attention of someone who could help than anything else.

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

As they stormed into town, Alfred managed to slash the arm of one of the attackers. He stumbled, but kept on running. Most of his men were dismounting, quickly holstering pistols and pulling out carbines. While one of the repeating rifles would have been nice, the new breech-loading Springfields were excellent guns, and his men could average about ten shots per minute. As the bandits fled, Alfred started barking out orders again, his German accent becoming slightly more pronounced during the heat of battle. "Hold men, hold! Lewis and Carter, go back to the wagon and tell the men to move up to town! Also tell the Gatling Gun to hold position!" Two men saluted, remounted, and headed back to where they had left the supply wagon with Hancock and McCullen. "The rest of you split up into pairs! Scout the terrain and see if you can get any prisoners! Make sure not to go to far and report back immediately if you find anything." There were more salutes and the rest of the men remounted, three pairs going off in three different directions.

As his men left to accomplish their assignments, a young woman ran out from between two of the buildings, absolutely estatic, laughing like a mad man. "Hahahaa! That was great, you guys! Great!"

"Thank you miss." Alfred said politely, tipping his hat to her and dsimounting. He walked over to the body of one of the dead men and wiped the blade of his saber on his coat. Sheathing the sword, he turned back to the lady. "It seems like we arrived just in the nick of time. Lieutenant Alfred Krieger of the 7th Cavalry. My men and I have been assigned to establish an outpost at this town." As Alfred was speaking another women's voice called out.

"Hey; I think this was who they were after." Alfred turned to see a women, this one maybe just a year or two younger than himself, by a man laying on the ground. Alfred quickly walked over an knelt down by the man. His arm was wounded. It didn't seem to be a deep wound, but the man had obviously lost a fair amount of blood.

"Is their a doctor in this town?" Alfred called out, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and tying it around the man's arm. Hopefully he hadn't lost too much blood. As long as he hadn't, he should be able to recover just fine, but it would still be best for a doctor to look at him.

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

I glanced up at the man that had walked up, and watched him tying up the other man's arm with a handkerchief. I glanced around, wondering the same. I had only poassed through a few times...but on my aunt's farm I pretty much ended up taking care of my brother. Always getting into trouble...I shook that thought off, and scanned over him once for any other obvious injuries. I didn't see anything too bad other than the one wound on his arm. I glanced around again. "We might want to move him at least...don't want him to accidentally get run over..." I suggested, looking back at the inconscious man. I glanced up quickly at the other man to see if he had been listening, then back to the unconscious one. "I think that's what makes the most sense right now," I added.

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by dig17
The mysterious man leaped out without giving him an answer. Poor boy must've been spooked, he figured; so caught up in the moment that one forgets even the most basic of things. Frank shook his head disparagingly as he heard a mad fusilade kick up on the street, his old ears catching thick swooshes as the bullets passed by. He was busy inspecting his LeMats at the time of the cavalry charge, ensuring the shotgun nocks were not in gear and that he had full loads on both barrels. As soon as he saw the military men tromp by, however, his mind cleared, and he casually began walking out into the street, one LeMat tucked away in its holster and the other one's action open. Frank removed the empty brass 16-gauge shotgun cartridge from the barrel and dropped it in his pants pocket, dropping in a fresh one with no mind being paid to the maneuvers of the mounted men in blue. Frank closed up the action and began walking back toward the candy shop.

As he holstered his other LeMat, he wondered if he had done any damage to Lee's Peacemakers when he threw them down. They were nice weapons, and he didn't want to be responsible for breaking something that wasn't his. As he approached the corner, his eyes quickly spotted the two areas where the pistols were. The sun reflected off of their nickel finishes, and as he picked the first one up, he inspected the side it landed on for scratches or any unseating of the cylinder. It did indeed lose its pristine condition, a slight blemish blushing out from where it slammed into the side of the candy shop. He approached the other one, opening the shell gate and thumbing the hammer to half-cock and began ejecting the shells from the cylinder. He closed the gate, tucked it away, picked up the other one, and noticed a gigantic scratch on the side where it landed on a rock. He sighed heavily before repeating the process of removing the shells, and tucked the second one away right next to the first.

As he walked back out toward the street, the first thing he noticed was the bodies. There were plenty of them; Jakal Flats had seen its first real action in years. This was a damn kid's novel compared to Petersburg. Plenty of the townsfolk had come out to celebrate the victory, shaking hands with and personally thanking the cavalrymen who deployed at the end of the action. Frank didn't give a damn who got the glory for it, but these frontier guardsmen, they didn't know jack shit about combat. Frank's contempt was plastered across his face as he retrieved his Remington revolver and slowly began ejecting the shells from it, too. Once it was empty, he tucked it behind him and pulled his coat back over his shoulders, Tornado having stayed completely calm the entire time. As he packed away what he needed to pack away, he patted Tornado gently and whispered in his ear.

"Yeah, you and me, boy. We know it's no damn accomplishment, don't we? Hell, a child with a stick coulda run them bandits out the way them guys did. I'll betcha a round of beers that this is the first time they seen some real stuff. I'll betcha another round they never been shot at in their whole lives. But it's alright, bud; they can have some time for themselves. We had ours and we don't need no more, eh?"

Tornado whinnied. Frank grinned wide and patted him a few more times before walking back toward the way he came, hoping to spot Lee. Eventually, he did; he approached her and patted her gently on the back before he took her Peacemakers from his belt.

"Well, girl, I've got good news and bad news: good news is that these pistols have seen real combat and killed real men. Bad news is that they show it," He revealed the damage on her pistols. "These is straight-shooters, little lady. You keep practicing and you'll be just fine."

He tucked them away in her holsters the way he had taken them, and looked back at her.

"I've gotta go see a man about my rifle." He began to walk away, but then he turned back quickly and got close to her ear, whispering to her just as he did to Tornado. "Don't feed these cavalrymen's egos too much; they're already full of shit, they don't need anything on top of it."

He turned back around and began walking toward where he last saw the mysterious victim, the man who had been shot at in the firstplace. He was being tended to by a girl named Crystal, supervised by the possible ringleader of the cavalry. He had chevrons on his shoulders that indicated he was a lieutenant of some sort, but it wasn't clear what. A Gatling gun had deployed at the end of the street, and he could tell the men hadn't skimped on their drill. He stepped between the lieutenant and the mysterious man, grabbing ahold of his Evans rifle.

"'scuse me, pard," Frank then reached onto the man and pulled the bandolier off his body, either dead or sleeping, and threw both items over his own torso. He stood back up and looked at the lieutenant, unimpressed eyes scanning his general appearance; he was just a kid. Damn kids didn't know nothing. Suddenly, habit took over, and Frank retrieved an empty .45 shell from his pocket and put it in his mouth, chewing on it without thought of judgment. "You the honcho here, sport?"

Setting

0 Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Lee nodded at the calvalrymen, to let them know that manners weren't needed around them. But she began to look around. A few men were scattered out, mostly theirs. But we were missing a fellow too. She looked among the corpses, and saw him not there.... But she looked farther out, to see Crystal kneeling beside him. Hopefully he wasn't among the dead. She moved towards them, but she was intercepted by Frank and his horse, Tornado. Beautiful steed, probably served that man for some good ones.

He told her both the "Good" and "Bad" news. "Aw, shoot Frank. They were nice too. But hey, nothin' stays pristine forever, ain't that right? And at least they don't git any more reliable, huh?" She smirked, and he tucked her guns away in their place. He then told her what he thought of these men, causing her to laugh perhaps too loud. "I'll give it a shot, Frank." She gave him a hug before he rode off towards the fellow that had come into the town being attacked by these men. She looked around; people were starting to come out of their abodes and check out the damage. She started her own towards the gathering crowd.

She moved up beside Crystal and the rest of the group, and knelt down beside the man. She was no doctor, but she could tell he had been shot and where. Someone around her asked if there was a Doctor in town, and she nodded (she had seen him a few times.) "Yeah. Witt Tyler. He's actually just 'round the corner there!" She said, pointing around two or three homes, to a corner building, two story. "He'll probably be out to check wounded in a minute...he's probalby still hunkered down in his shop with his peppergun aimed at the door!" She said, almost jokingly. "I'll go an' git him anyway." She said, leaving everyone focused on the wounded man.

Lee spun on the heels of her boots, and started in the direction of the doctor's shop...but stopped in her tracks. One of the men that had come into town was getting up...and running away! He was holding his chest or gut, or somewhere on his upper body, she couldn't tell, and as lumbering away at a mild jog. "Oh shoot!" Lee exclaimed quietly. The man had his revolver in his hand, looking back at the crowd. He now knew that Lee had saw him. He moved to pull the hammer back with his other hand, pulling the gun up to his chest... But Lee was faster. Much faster. Her hand raced to her right hand Colt, and whipped it out of it's holster, pulling the hammer back out of sheer instinct. She extended her arm, and looked down the irons of her pistol, which she lined up with the man's shins. She held her breath, and steadied her shot. She knew she would hit her mark.... She pulled the trigger.

Chik.

Lee looked down at her faithful handgun, in almost awe. She pulled the hammer back again, and pulled the trigger again, this time just aiming at the man in general. Chik. Chik.. The sound of the hammer slamming against the gun was the only thing that sounded every time. She flipped her revolver open, seeing the problem.... No ammunition! She looked back at Frank. He must've not reloaded the weapons! Her head whipped back around to see the man still at his mild, stumbling jog, not 10-12 yards away. "F-Frank! Somebody! Git him!" She called out, pointing to the man. "He's gettin' away!" She said. She started to run after him, only to stop after a few steps. She knew if she stepped in direct line of fire, they couldn't hit him.

View All »Arcs

Arcs are bundles of posts that you can organize on your own. They're useful for telling a story that might span long periods of time or space.

There are no arcs in this roleplay.

View All » Create New » Quests

There are no quests in this roleplay.

Add Group » View All » 0 Factions to align with

Here's the current leaderboard.

There are no groups in this roleplay!

Events

Soon™.

Game Master Controls

Welcome home, Promethean. Here, you can manage your universe.

Arcs

Arcs are bundles of posts from any location, allowing you to easily capture sub-plots which might be spread out across multiple locations.

Add Quest » Quests

You can create Quests with various rewards, encouraging your players to engage with specific plot lines.

Add Setting » 1 Settings for your players to play in

Settings are the backdrop for the characters in your universe, giving meaning and context to their existence. By creating a number of well-written locations, you can organize your universe into areas and regions.

Navigation

While not required, locations can be organized onto a map. More information soon!

Add Group » 0 Factions to align with

There are no groups in this roleplay!

Collectibles

By creating Collectibles, you can reward your players with unique items that accentuate their character sheets.


Once an Item has been created, it can be spawned in the IC using /spawn Item Name (case-sensitive, as usual) — this can be followed with /take Item Name to retrieve the item into the current character's inventory.

Mobs

Give your Universe life by adding a Mob, which are auto-replenishing NPCs your players can interact with. Useful for some quick hack-and-slash fun!

Mobs can be automated spawns, like rats and bats, or full-on NPCs complete with conversation menus. Use them to enhance your player experience!

Current Mobs

No mobs have been created yet.

Spawns

Locations where Mobs and Items might appear.

Events

You can schedule events for your players to create notifications and schedule times for everyone to plan around.

Permissions

Add and remove other people from your Universe.

Orphanage

By marking a character as abandoned, you can offer them to your players as pre-made character sheets.

Character Portrait: Coast
0 sightings Coast played by ParadigmIX
Former member of an Anti-Civil War gang known as the "Dam". Now a wandering drifter doing his best to erase the dark of America's past. One remaining confederate at a time.
Character Portrait: Lieutenant Alfred Krieger
0 sightings Lieutenant Alfred Krieger played by PanzerJedi
US Cavalry man commanding a squad recently assigned to Jakal Flats

The Forge

Use your INK to craft new artifacts in Plains of Red Dust. Once created, Items cannot be changed, but they can be bought and sold in the marketplace.

Notable Items

No items have been created yet!

The Market

Buy, sell, and even craft your own items in this universe.

Market Data

Market conditions are unknown. Use caution when trading.

Quick Buy (Items Most Recently Listed for Sale)

Open Stores

View All » Add Character » 9 Characters to follow in this universe

Character Portrait: Leeanna Bretter
Character Portrait: Frank Gregory
Character Portrait: William "Bill" Anderson

Newest

Character Portrait: William "Bill" Anderson
William "Bill" Anderson

A lazy, sarcastic drunk with a violent past.

Character Portrait: Frank Gregory
Frank Gregory

Aging Civil War vet with a heart of gold

Character Portrait: Leeanna Bretter
Leeanna Bretter

A gun-loving cowgirl whom is fed up with her dull life. She wants something to happen in the dull town of Jakal Flats

Trending

Character Portrait: William "Bill" Anderson
William "Bill" Anderson

A lazy, sarcastic drunk with a violent past.

Character Portrait: Leeanna Bretter
Leeanna Bretter

A gun-loving cowgirl whom is fed up with her dull life. She wants something to happen in the dull town of Jakal Flats

Character Portrait: Frank Gregory
Frank Gregory

Aging Civil War vet with a heart of gold

Most Followed

Character Portrait: William "Bill" Anderson
William "Bill" Anderson

A lazy, sarcastic drunk with a violent past.

Character Portrait: Frank Gregory
Frank Gregory

Aging Civil War vet with a heart of gold

Character Portrait: Leeanna Bretter
Leeanna Bretter

A gun-loving cowgirl whom is fed up with her dull life. She wants something to happen in the dull town of Jakal Flats


Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » Plains of Red Dust: Out of Character

Discussions

  • Topics
    Replies
    Views
    Last post

Most recent OOC posts in Plains of Red Dust

Re: [OOC] Plains of Red Dust

wow...the fourth...that's when i'm leaving...

Re: [OOC] Plains of Red Dust

Sorry I haven't been keeping up with everybody... but I've got bad news. I'm going camping, and staying 'till the fourth of july. And it's going to be a while before I can check in again.... So if everyone wants to keep going, my character is controlable to anyone.... Or if you want to drop, I guess that'd be fine too.... But I wish you stay, and I wish I get to see you when I get back!

Re: [OOC] Plains of Red Dust

I'll create a character, this looks fun

Re: [OOC] Plains of Red Dust

I'll post later, halfway done

Re: [OOC] Plains of Red Dust

sorry i didn't post yesterday...was grounded from computer...but i has computer back now!

Re: [OOC] Plains of Red Dust

Don't know if this is rude or not, but I also posted a character up. Hopefully that's not going to be too much of a problem... :D

Re: [OOC] Plains of Red Dust

I do quite love everyone's character, AND everyone's activity. I've sent message to SamG, and he has not replied to me since. So...I'm not excactly sure what to do, since his character hasn't exactly been introduced into the roleplay yet....

Re: [OOC] Plains of Red Dust

I'm making a post people, don't post before me please (of course it's almost midnight here so I've prolly got nothing to worry about)

Re: [OOC] Plains of Red Dust

I'm currently in the process of making a character, a US Cavalryman being stationed in Jakal Flats. I hope to have him up later this evening if at all possible. I thought I'd let you know, and hope this character will work in this RP.

Re: [OOC] Plains of Red Dust

Hrm, I posted an application for the character "Coast" and while i do think I was approved, I am unable to post within the rp. Every time I click on reply to this roleplay it takes me to the character submission sheet :(

Re: [OOC] Plains of Red Dust

Hey there!
I made a character for this RP but it said on the introduction page that it requires approval...
I wasn't really sure who was supposed to be giving the approval, so I just decided to post on here to let someone know.

Hope I didn't mess something up. ;) And I hope my character fits okay.

Re: [OOC] Plains of Red Dust

alright...let me work on it...i might have an idea...eh...this might take a bit...okay, got it done...i think...

Re: [OOC] Plains of Red Dust

Just throw one out there, Crys. I'm sure you can make it work for ya. My character is a female gunslinger, though she's a tad young.

Re: [OOC] Plains of Red Dust

something i would make a character for...if i knew what kind of charatcer to make :P fact is, i'm only good at playing girls...and i don't know where one would fit in here...

[OOC] Plains of Red Dust

This is the auto-generated OOC topic for the roleplay "Plains of Red Dust"

You may edit this first post as you see fit.