The Green Family: First Encounter
Other Notable Scenes: Zieg's mentor's first and only appearance, the mirage round introduced, and Bubba Green's first death.

The door was kicked open, revealing a woman with her leg raised. Her massive boot slammed upon the floorboards as she marched further inside. She swung her fists as though she meant business and cocked her hip to the right, resting her manicured nails upon it. Behind her scrambled in a shorter man with wild eyes. His long fingers constantly fondled each other like he were rubbing his hands beneath a faucet. A wild grin was spread across his face as he snapped his head left and right, looking for the whereabouts of him. The last man that thudded in was wide and plump. The floorboards groaned under his huge feet. The suspenders he wore had a broken strap and the other was just hanging on. His eyes were a glowing white, tiny, and dense like the first impression he delivered. His thick lips pulled and sucked at an icey, chocolate bar that dribbled sticky syrup all over his shirt.

Swinging her hips in the other direction, the freckled-face belle scowled and wrinkled her nose.

"A~ll right! Nobody is goin' tah move until they tell me, if they seen this fellar we're looking!" she screamed.

The Gunslinger remained sprawled on his back across the floor, listening to the announcement curiously.

"We're looking for a tall, ugly, red-headed fellar with nice guns. If someone tells us, then we won't have tah git' nasty."

The shorter man cackled shrilly and clapped his hands.

"Git nasteh! Git nasteh! Yeeehooo!" he screamed.

The Gunslinger clapped a hand over his face.

I ain't ugly, he thought in vain.

The belle was known as Iris Green, and her face flushed red when she received nothing but silence.

"Nothin' eh?" she queried.

Wiping her palms upon her once vibrant pink gown, she crossed her thin arms at her stomach and ordered to her brothers, Eddie and Big Bubba Green, "I guess they ain't talkin' boys. Take care of this place."

Eddie Green immediately darted for the fire like a blur. The little guy was inhumanly quick and began digging burning logs free like a dog in a hole, flinging kindle onto tables, chairs, and the floor until the fire was all put out. Iris then raised her brows. They knitted at the top of her head when she noticed a certain member of her trio had yet to act.

The pig-tailed queen turned her head over her shoulder to see Big Bubba green lapping his tongue about a popsicle. His face was sticky with chocolate and though the bar had dissolved he was engrossed with the flavor remaining on the stick.

With her elbow, she jabbed him in his pot belly and snapped, "Damn you Bubba. Git yer big ass over dere and break somethin'!"

Upon getting elbowed in the gut, the startled brother dropped his popscicle stick. His tongue buzzed outside his mouth, spraying spittle all over the place, and after five seconds, the message was finally delivered. His mouth opened wide and he bellowed a barbaric roar. Swinging his meaty arms, he barrelled through tables and chairs, and belly-flopped upon the bar, smashing it under his gait.

The Gunslinger was upon his back, his legs were arched and the balls of his feet were sliding him along the floor as he still kept his cover.

How did they find me here? he pondered.

He swerved into the kitchen, passing through the swinging door as he removed his guns from his holsters. He popped open the cylinders, inspecting the rounds nestled within them, and snapped them closed. He always began with normal rounds. Rolling over onto his hands and knees, he crawled behind the island counter and put his back to it as he thought about, sparing the bar the damage from his pursuers.

Ugh...I know they got someone workin' for them, he mused.

The mysterious slinger-for-hire hadn't showed his face yet, but he knew he was there somewhere.

Iris continued to watch her brothers terrorize the place. Eddie was dissecting the couch with his fingers and teeth, rapidly clawing at the material and tossing chips of foam into the air, and Bubba stabbed his sausage fingers into the glass liquor cabinet, ripping free the doors and tossing them to the floor. His hands then swatted around at the bottles, shattering them and spilling alcohol behind the ruins of what was once a bar. There soon was nothing else to break. Everything that was downstairs was in shambles and still there was no Gunslinger or a glimmer of his precious guns.

"Okay, stop! Search the upstairs and the bathrooms!" she ordered next.

They would bring down the bar, looking for him.

The Gunslinger winced from all the noise. He could only imagine the damage. Plaster from the ceiling, then pelted down on his hat. His dark eyes darted to the chips that tumbled about him. She sent Big Boy upstairs he thought with dread. That was all they'd need for him to put holes in the roof. The brother was ADHD.

Who knew what was upstairs? Why didn't they think I'd left? he thought strategically.

If they were still certain that he was in the building, then he was certain the hired gun was outside. Rising, the Gunslinger crept over to the back door and rested his shoulder upon the wall. He turned his head slightly, peering out the glass window to see a silhouette of a man, waiting there patiently like the whole time he could see where he was. He hesitated to leave the kitchen.

Flailing his arms about, Bubba Green burst into one of the bedrooms, still screaming until his glowing eyes dilated at the sight of a queen-sized bed. Why, that was a bed big enough for Bubba. Unlike the tiny hammock he slept in that was flattened beneath him.

"Bouncey! Bouncey!" he exclaimed and dribbled his feet in an excited dance much like a child.

The large man lunged at the bed, the springs sank and the iron frame bent to the floor. He blinked his eyes when the floor depressed, breaking to drop the giant in the middle of the bar. He landed like a demolition ball, causing the walls to quake and ceiling lamps to tumble.

Iris's eyes were bright with surprise when she saw her brother, flailing about on his back, trapped in a flora-designed quilt.

"You idjit," she snapped. "You gon' jumped on the bed again, didn't ye?"

She then stomped over to him to help him out of the blanket.

Meanwhile, a few ladies and gents fled from the bathrooms holding their pants and trailing tissue paper from their asses. Eddie bolted out on his hands and feet, galloping like an ape. He smelt of shit, his clothes were dusted with porcelain, and his nails and soles were brown.

Iris scrunched her nose up, and exclaimed, "Peu! Eddie, you stink!"

Bubba flailed like he were making a snow angel and cheered between obnoxious laughter, "Eddie smell like poopie! Ahahahaha!"

Eddie absent-mindedly laughed along with his brother in his shrill chatter.

The Gunslinger was making a disturbed face as he overheard the chaotic gaggle in the other room. He shook his head, his adrenaline having reached its peak. Drawing his guns, he kicked the door open and stormed outside. He leaned into his sprint, his boots propelled him as though he weighed not a thing. His hat clung to his hairline, threatening to lift off his head, and his heavy, long-coat raised some inches from the back of his legs. As the clouds moved from the moon and bathed the night in silver, the gunslinger was startled as his bloody oculars captured the familiar contors of the gunman. The stipple that porcupined his face, his stern black eyes, and thin lips. It took only a second for him to realize he hesitated, but by then it was too late.

The hired gun fired from his revolver a round that pulled at the Gunslinger's body. His body became burden to move from the muscles in his face to the slightest twitch of his finger. To his horror, he recognized it to be a slow round. The bullet moved just as slow as he did, leaving the barrel like a snail to float towards him, and there was nothing he could do. The Gunslinger watched his fingers making their slow pull on the triggers of his revolvers. The cylinders turned sluggishly, and by then the hired gun had fired four rounds from his twins. Two into his pectorals and two into his abdomen. The Gunslinger couldn't even make a face of anguish, still caught in the time freeze.

The freeze after twenty seconds subsided, and the final round—the first that had left the barrel collided with his chest. The gunslinger's legs collapsed beneath him as his body simmered. His soles slid as the inertia of his run still carried him forward, and he rolled across the ground to stop in a heap before the hired gun's feet. Was he going to die? He was panting quickly, feeling his warm blood oozing from the holes in his body. The hired gun kicked the Gunslinger over with the toe of his boot and stared down into his moist face.

"You've become arrogant boy," the hired gun said gruffly. His voice was grizzly as he then crouched and pressed the cold barrel of his revolver against his forehead. "Don't become over-confident..."

The hired gun's words faded on a whisper as the Gunslinger then blinked his eyes. The pain was suddenly gone, and the man was no longer there. Quickly, he sat up and looked around. His fingers felt about his vest and chest. There was a bruise where a round had hit him on his sternum, and what a round it was.

"The mirage..." he whispered in disbelief.

Not even he carried that round. Sitting up, he breathed and wiped his sleeve across his face. He had become over-confident with his round choice. Lowering his arm, he gazed at the bar. There was still a matter he had to deal with.

The Green family had overheard the gunshots outside and raced out the front, searching all over for the gun fight.

"He must of found him!" Iris yelled.

They ran around back to find the Gunslinger standing there with his index fingers curled and twirling his revolvers upon their trigger guards. Iris was taken back to see their target still alive.

"Wh-where did the otha' guy go?" she demanded.

Eddie was chuckling quietly, a volume he only used when he was nervous, while Bubba's long tongue stirred within his nostrils, collecting sweet and sticky boogers.

"Let's just say...your gunman ditched you," the gunslinger explained. "I heard you wanted my guns...let's see you try and take'em."

Iris paled a bit, and then reached down to grasp a wad of her dress. She yanked the material up to reveal a toned thigh, fuzzy with hair that was far from feminine and strapped to her inner thigh was a pistol. She removed the pistol and yanked back the slide. Eddie yanked from the back of his pants a SMG, and Bubba..., well, he was still digging at those boogies.

The Gunslinger's lip arched in disgust when he saw the man-hair coating Iris's leg. It made him wonder if Iris Green was actually an Ivan Green in drag though her face looked nothing like a man's. The thought still made him feel sick along with the dirty thought of ever banging her in her spider web of a vagina. When the family drew their guns, he broke into a sprint. His right hand tucked his pistol away as his left remained drawn. Iris began firing as soon as The Gunslinger started moving, and Jackie responded ecstactically with his SMG, bouncing and screaming obscenities. The Gunslinger countered, firing three bullets that exploded on contact with Iris's rounds, and the scattered fire of the hyperactive one. He just needed to clear himself a hole. His right hand tucked into his inner coat pocket to draw out a single round that he didn't insert into his revolver. He waved it at Bubba.

"Want some candy, fella'?" he questioned, and rolled behind a tree to dodge the next volley of rounds that tore at the bark.

Bubba's eyes dilated and his mouth opened wide. He nodded his head and clapped his hands happily. Squeezing the round between his thumb and index finger, his thumb eventually flicked the round in the big boy's direction, and Bubba Green gulped it down. Iris only noticed the glitter of something fly into her brother's mouth, and knew it wasn't good.

"Bubba!" she screamed.

Eddie was still wildly shooting at the tree the Gunslinger was hiding behind. There was a groan in Bubba's stomach. His hands went to grasp it as it began to swell in his hands. His last suspender strap popped free as a button flew into the air. He swelled like a balloon, frightening Iris as she stepped back in fear and accidently bumped into Jackie who was stirred from his high. They both gawked at Bubba until his body trembled, no longer able to swell any bigger, and with a loud bang, he blew up. Fire and smoke mushroomed into the air and the aftershock through the rest of the Green's off their feet.

The Gunslinger peeked from behind his cover at the two, knowing full well that wasn't the end of Bubba for Bubba Green was an enigma. The black and scorched behemoth fell from the sky to land like a weight next to his siblings. A dark smog dispersed from his clothes, and the Gunslinger was certain that was the end of that...for now.

The Gunslinger meets The Drifter
Other Notable Events: Lady Magnificent's cameo appearance.
Date: 9/4/2009

Opening the doors of the bar was the strange woman known as no other but The Drifter. Upon seeing someone with a familiar make of hat, a grin spread along her lips. With that soft jingle of spurs while her boots thudded along the floor boards, Drifter placed her finger in a gun gesture to the back of his head.

"Bang yer dead!"

She was dressed a bit more casually today than normal though with a half-shirt tied off just beneath her bust, cut off shorts that made a man stare, and those same old worn leather boots. The only other piece of clothing on her was the belt that held her holsters around her hips.

The Gunslinger eyes widened briefly when he felt the poke of a finger against the back of his skull. Strutting up to his right was...The Drifter? His eyes dipped up and down her form in greeting, and then down again to stare at her bare legs and flat, exposed tummy.

"What is this? You tryna' show off or somin'?"

He then leaned upon his forearms on the bar counter, gazing at the drink selection aimlessly.

"That's different than what you wore yesterday."

He wouldn't be able to stop smiling today.

A smirk played around her lips.

"Wella Ah didn't have anythang else that was clean affer ridin' around today on Wind so... had to go with this if that's wut yer talkin' 'bout stranger."

She brought down her finger and then walked around to the back of the bar, now having the habit of serving herself instead of waiting for someone else to do it for her. The woman didn't mind too much anyway. Aiming for a beer today instead of the good stuff, Drifter bent over slightly while opening the fridge to reach for that cold dark bottle, dripping with condensation.

"Ya wanna beer too? Best to say so now 'fore I on'y get one m'self."

The Drifter righted herself again and used her teeth to pop off the cap of the beer before taking a long drink.

The Gunslinger laced his fingers together and rested his chin upon them. His maroon eyes then watched the belle bend over, watching her shorts tighten against the curves of her bum, and then tip her head back, lips puckered upon the bottle and throat pumping away. She knew how to make a beer look good or maybe it wasn't a thirst he was feeling.

"I think I'm gonna need a shot of liquor after what happened last night, but don't worry; I'll pay for your drink and mine."

He drew from his inner coat pocket a fan of dollars that looked about over 10 G. He fanned a small breeze at her with them.

Looking at him out of the corner of her honey colored eyes as he spoke to her, she took the bottle from her lips leaving it half empty now. Her brow then arched at the motioning of the money that he was making.

"What's that all fer? Ya thank Ah cain't pay fer my own drank?"

She grinned and then laughed that melodic little song that Drifter had.

"What kinna drank ya be wantin' while Ah'm back here?"

The southern woman set down her beer on the wooden counter with that soft thud of glass against wood before grabbing down a tumbler above her head from the shelf there.

The Gunslinger tucked his fan of dollars away—all but for one that he slipped into The Drifter's cleavage. Slapping both of his palms upon the bar top, the gunslinger swung his legs over and crouched low behind it.

"I'm gonna need a scotch," he told her.

His knees thumped upon the floor and then he sprawled out prone across his belly with his hands over his head.

The bar door then was roughly kicked open. Dark, knee-high stilettos stabbed into the floor like daggers as Lady Magnificent stormed in. Her eyes were tiny, like laser-sights, and in her hands weren't her usual red and black pistols. There were red and black SMGs with her curvaceous signature, running along the make in silver.

"Where is he?" she roared.

She was wearing a skirt today with a white, feathery trim. A deep, V-neck top hugged her magnificent, exposing her brown sugar skin down to the end of her ribs.

"Tell me now!"

Her trigger happy index fingers squeezed upon the triggers of the SMGs as she sprayed the bar with lead.

She set the glass on the bar counter with her fingers still wrapped around it while he tucked a bill into her cleavage. A frown touched her lips before she was going to chastise him for such an action, though still playful. The suddenness of his movements though would confuse her until a woman strode into the bar making all sort of demands.

"Ah damn..."

Nervousness suddenly pounded through her veins. Her body seemed to have reacted on instinct at the gun firing, more quick than any normal human would have been able to do. Ducking down behind the bar with the Gunslinger, she fell down onto all fours while crawling towards the end of it in order to prepare herself to run when Drifter got the chance.

"Gotta be comin' in here an' shootin' stuff... Juss 'cause you gotta gun don' mean ya have to use it..."

The Drifter grimaced and waited for it all to blow over... hopefully.

The Gunslinger peered up from being face down as Lady Mag continued her deadly venting. He squinted through the glass that was raining down upon his head from the alcohol, and he reached his left hand out for her ankle with the intention of dragging the coward back.

"You have to talk to her!" he exclaimed above the firing. "You a woman. I'm sure you kin calm her down or somethin'!"

She fell down onto her belly at her ankle being tugged on, and her body was drug backwards towards him though she caught the edge of the bar to stop herself. Turning to look over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed at him while yelling back to the Gunslinger.

"Ah ain't talkin' to no woman commin' in here and shootin' stuff! Ah don't wanna die you bloomin' idiot!"

She was not going to get caught up in what seemed to be some love affair to her.

The Gunslinger continued yanking on her ankle, trying to keep her from pulling away.

"We ain't in love! And she ain't that kind of slinger. It's just..." He grinned weakly and avoided the truth a bit, "It's all jus' a misunderstandin'. I swear she ain't gonna shoot ya, but jus' don't tell her I'm here!"

The tugging on her ankle proved stronger than her grip on the bar counter and she was pulled even more close to him though her hands still tried to find something to grab onto.

"Look misser... Ah ain't gonna get all mixed up with a woman ya slept with and left. That ain't none o'my business. Lemme go so Ah can go hide good."

The Drifter tried to yank her leg out of his grip so that she could run to safety.

The Gunslinger blinked in surprise when she figured it out.

"How the hell..." he then bit back on his words, and cleared his throat. "No, you are wrong. She's just sore over a duel we had last night."

He then wrapped both his arms around her leg and pleaded pathetically, "Oh please, please, please...jus' talk to her. I don't wanna die either!"

He nuzzled his cheek in her calf.

Lady Magnificent's rounds were exhausted in seconds as he glanced about the still bar. All that moved were the shards of glass that dripped like water from behind the counter. She shoved her uzis into her bottom holsters and pulled from her top, her breasts bouncing as room was made for them, two pistols.

"Come on out of there! I know someone's back there. If you don't come out, I'll come over there and fill you full of holes!"

He was just as scared as she was at the attacker, it was amusing even in this most dire situation. One part of her was telling her to run while the part of her to help out this man was pulling her to stay. He won.

"Alright misser, but if Ah die, Ah am comin' back to haunt yer ass you can count on that."

The Drifter slid her leg out of his grasp only to push against the floor enabling her to stand. The woman could have only done that just because of the fact that the bullets had stopped. Leaning her forearm on the bar counter, Drifter put a grin on her face as if she had not a care in the world.

"Sorry 'bout that miss... Ah uh... juss needed to check on the stores o' whiskey behind the counter. What canna Ah get you?"

Behind the bar, she stepped on the Gunslinger's hand for making her do this.

The Gunslinger smiled happily, his cheek mysteriously having moved to her bottom that he began to nuzzle affectionately. When she freed her leg from his grasp, he scowled nervously, watching her stand when the fire had calmed.

You kin do it, you yellow wench, he thought.

Her heel then came down upon his hand as though she had reprimanded his thoughts somehow. His teeth clinched tightly, his other hand slapping over his mouth to muffle any groans he might let escape.

Lady Mag's eyes darted dangerously to the woman who rose. Her muscles twitched for her guns to automatically react to the target, but she made no such action. His thin brows furrowed as she asked with a low and challenging voice, "Who are you girl?"

Her smooth lips then curled into a gentle yet grim smile. She extended her left arm, and aimed the pistol upon her that from across the room it may have been fixed on the base of her throat, and to purposely intimidate the girl more, a red laser sight stretched across the room as a red dot appeared on her flesh.

Standing up straight and removing her foot from the man's hand beneath the bar after being sure that he got the point of her displeasure, The Drifter arched a brow coolly at the woman while she ask her question.

"Wella..." Then remembering the bill stuck in her exposed cleavage, she pointed to it with a smirk, "Ah be the bartender 'round here. Juss started anna Ah gots some good customers already."

The Drifter was trying to fight her need to run at the sight of the guns pointed directly at her, but kept her needs and wants under completely control. She would end this with her silver tongue. Placing her hands on the bar counter, she gave it a slap with one of her hands.

"Weren't you yellin' about lookin' fer someone? Ah can tell ya if there here or not... Ah got a good memory o'faces an' names."

The Drifter tried her best to not look at the dot that was on her chest, which had been noticed after her pointing to her cleavage and the bill.

Lady Mag stared at the girl as though searching her face for lies, but all she saw was a brave and intimidated girl. She assumed that she might have been lying about being a bartender since she was dressed like a hooker, and had a dollar poking from her tits. Sighing softly, she lowered her guns and tucked them back into her bust holsters.

"Get me some whiskey," she said softly and almost sadly.

Her eyes were cast to the floor beneath long lashes as she sashayed toward the bar and lowered her apple-bottom onto a stool. Her elbows rested upon the counter and her hands cupped the side's of her face.

"Men are dogs," she said sullenly.

The gunslinger's eyes were wide with worry when he heard how close Lady was. He could even smell her vanilla perfume. He slowly began to twist around behind the bar and began inch-worming away from the bar as though he might have been secretly fleeing.

A wave of relief swept over the woman though it was entirely unnoticed. She took in a long and slow breath before winking at the woman.

"Commin' right up... miss." The Drifter pulled down a tumbler that had survive the initial attack and set it on the bar before grabbing a half broken bottle of whiskey, then poured the amber liquid into the half-glass. At the next comment the lady made, the Drifter's eyebrow rose again.

"Wella... if yer lookin' fer a man don'tcha thank it best to be goin' out an' findin' him? Ah know that if Ah had a man, Ah'd be chasin' affer him if Ah were angry at 'em... " She was trying to make it seem like an assumption by referring indirectly to her entrance into the bar. "Ain't no man should make a woman angry. Ain't the smartest thang to do."

The Drifter's eyes darted behind the bar and spotted the Gunslinger trying to make an exit. Golden eyes narrowed slightly and she walked over to him only to stomp on his fingers again.

"Damn roaches... once ya got 'em ya cain't get rid o'em."

The southern belle then flashed a grin at the other woman then walked to her, placing the drink before the desperate lady.

A tear came to the gunslinger's eye as he bore his teeth in pain. His hand curled into a fist beneath her foot, he could only imagine what damage she was doing to his slinging hands, and he needed his hands. His eyes darted over his shoulder to gaze at the belle with disdain. Lady Mag sniffed as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She kept them held back as she grasped the tumbler and gulped the whiskey down.

Her lips parted as she gasped softly through them, and then replied, "The man I'm looking for is here. I know he is because he was here yesterday and no one in town says they seen him leave. He stole 20 G from me."

After having a nice drink, she drew her pistol from her left breast holster and held the gun out to The Drifter's breasts, giving them a condescending poke with the muzzle.

"But I suppose a little whore like yourself wouldn't have seen or bedded him. I'm sure all men carry 1,000 dollars in their bra, hm?"

She glared at the girl, knowing full well she was lying as she rose from her stool and continued to put pressure on the timid girl.

"Enough lying you small titted slut, where are you hiding him?" she accused boldly.

The gunslinger had made it to the end of the counter with his back pressed against it, making it seem as though he may have disappeared and bailed on The Drifter.

Fear against swept through the woman's body and nerves as the other lady pressed the gun to her breast. This was not good at all, she had been called out. Time to try and settle this for good or at least try.

"Wella... no they don't carry these big bills 'round here too much. But you'd be surprised at the lecherous business men that come in here tryin' to pick up an honest workin' gal."

The Drifter then smirked with arrogance and nodded. "Alright alright Ah tell ya the truth. He was in here but Ah ain't tryin' to hide him. That man juss ran out the back door 'fore you came in here and paid me to say nuthin' to anyone that came in here with guns lookin' fer a man. Juss doin' what I was paid to do miss. Ah ain't meant no offense, but Ah ain't about to get shot for it either!"

The Drifter took the bill from her cleavage trying not to touch the gun at all, each gesture smooth, slow and unthreatening to not force her to react violently.

"Here's yer money back... an' Ah bet if you go out the door then 'round back ya can catch with his pants down."

The woman set the bill down on the counter and slid it over to Lady.

Lady Mag smiled sweetly.

"Good girl," she praised.

She reached out and picked up the bill, stuffing it into her bra, which she apparently used for almost everything.

"I'm not so easy to fool though, so we'll go see if he's back there together, won't we? I've already seen him with his pants down, there isn't a thing worth remembering."

Her face hardened as she pressed the pistol harder against her bosom.

"If you try and run, I'll shoot you before you even take two steps."

The Gunslinger's brows were twitching irritably as he continued to hide at the end of the counter.

'Nothin' worth remembrin'? he thought angrily.

He was going to pay for this... she was going to litter his body with her own bullets and it took a lot to anger the Drifter. She let out a long sigh and nodded her head in submission.

"Alright... Ah'll go wit' you Ah guess... "

Though the Drifter had no intention of doing it at all. With fast reflexes uncommon to humans, Drifter made a grab for the wrist that was holding the gun to her chest while side stepping out of the way to her right, pushing Lady's wrist away from her with her left hand in the opposite direction. During this entire move, Drifter was also bringing up her right hand in a fist to aim a punch at the lady's nose. The Drifter had no clue at the fighting ability of Lady but, it was better than stepping into something worse then she was already in.

Lady's eyes enlarged upon witnessing the swift movements of The Drifter. Her hostage's reactions had surprised her greatly. Her hands, however, reacted in the way they were conditioned to do from all her previous fights with other slingers. As her pistol was averted, she stepped back, and eased her head back, stepping out of reach of the girl's fist. Lady's eyes were calm and seemed to have entered a whole new mindset. Her [Lady's] evasive action purposefully made her breasts leap again, her other pistol flying from its holster for her free hand to snatch out of the air. She would have both of her pistols aimed at the girl defensively by the next turn.

At the aiming of the guns again, it was time to hide. Ducking back beneath the counter, the Drifter crouched low and pulled her own guns from her holsters which dangle at her hips.

Of course the bastard ran... should have been me running.

With both guns raised to either side of her head, the southern woman was trying for the best possible plan of escape. She trotted along behind the bar counter keeping her head below the line of the wooden top while making her way to the side of it so that the Drifter could run down the hall to the back door. This difficult move made the tops of her naked thighs ache with that searing burn of stressed muscle but luckily the adrenaline pounding through her veins dampened the slight pain. It was fight or flight... and she chose flight.

The gunslinger had been watching the brief showdown from the glassy squares of what was left of the liquor cabinet. His brows rose in surprise when he studied how The Drifter had reacted to Lady.

She's a gunslinger? he thought in disbelief.

That coward was a gunslinger? On obvious rookie apparently, but he didn't think Lady knew that. His attention had wondered as he mused more about the woman. By the time The Drifter had fled to the end of the counter, if she were observant, she would see the gunslinger huddled up and zoned out thoughtfully. Lady watched the girl flee and strutted along the bar counter, following her as she scrambled.

Passing a glance around the corner of the bar before she made her attempt for the back door, the Drifter spotted the Gunslinger which made her brow and her eyes narrow in slight anger.

"Hey stupid. You gonna do summin' yer lady friend is gonna shoot me, ya idiot."

Her honey-brown eyes were watching the around the corner now for the legs of that other woman while still speaking to him.

"Ya got me into this mess now yer ass is gonna get me outta it."

The Drifter would have slapped him out of his thoughts but her hands were busy holding the colt's that were always with her. Legs and feet shifted slightly, ready at a moment's notice to make a run for it.

The gunslinger blinked when he noticed The Drifter was next to him all of a sudden. His eyes were shrunk in fear to see her next to him and his mouth fell open slightly.

"You led her to me?" he exclaimed, and then peered over his right shoulder to catch a glimpse of the female slinger's crown.

Immediately, he lunged from the counter, swinging his arms as rapidly as he could. He bumped and spun around tables and pushed off walls as he headed for the back way out—the kitchen.

Lady blinked when she saw the all-too-familiar gunslinger dart like a mouse from a hole. The Drifter no longer became a concern to her. She had found who she was looking for as she pointed her guns at his back.

"You bastard!" she screamed.

His wild movements were not only clumbsy but hard to lock onto that she hesitated to fire until he disappeared into the kitchen. Sucking her teeth angrily, she bolted after him in her heels.

"How dare you rob from me!"

Zieg having heard her scream shouted back over her shoulder, "Muh services aren't free!"

He then smacked into the back door and winced. The wooden door and screen door collapsed as he staggered onto the grass and yanked his revolvers from his holsters.

Damn that girl [The Drifter], he thought.

A frown touched her lips as the man ran off though her eyebrows then rose as the woman was no longer after her but him. The Drifter still was not done with him though. Standing up with revolvers now hanging loosely at her sides, she made her way casually behind the two running people. There was no way that the Drifter was going to miss him being shot. Not after what he put her through.

The gunslinger turned on the ball of his right foot, thrusting out his right revolver to counter a bullet that was intended for his back. The rounds met with an explosive collision, flashing like lightning and resonating like thunder into the sky.

"Service?" Lady shrieked. "You call that service? You made the move on me, you egotistical bastard!"

Dancing backwards, the gunslinger sneered.

"Like I would openly screw you. Who knows how many dogs ya slept with?" he countered.

Lady rapidly moved her left gun down, left, and then right. A round left the barrel, bee-lining in a similar motion as she fired from her other pistol a straight round for his face. The gunslinger countered the curve shot an inch before the barrel of his gun. It had nearly been a gun jam, but he didn't let that deter him. He then brought exploded the straight round with his other gun. Lady bore her teeth angrily. She hesitated to make a come back for it was true that she had slept with a lot of men in her time. It then came to her as she arched a merciless brow.

"A lot of the dogs I slept with had balls. Last night, I didn't feel a thing."

She then yawned and covered her mouth with her hand in mockery.

The gunslinger then scowled as he yelled, "You got to be kiddin' me!"

His brows then rose as though he had just realized something. "Oh wait, I forgot. You got quite the bat cave. Not to mention all that sea grass I had to cut through."

He then turned his head to the side and gave a mocking yawn back. Lady Magnificent blushed and searched around for who may be witnessing this Gunslinger roasting.

She knew he was beginning to lie but still, she was self-conscience about her beauty. "You lie!"

The simple woman was now leaning against the door frame of the back door while listening in on the words that were being exchanged between them. So he had lied to her and it WAS a lover's quarrel after all... how amusing. The gun shots went unnoticed almost by Drifter as she was not the one being shot at which gave her a bit more confidence to stay and watch the going ons. The Drifter couldn't help but to laugh at some of the phrases passed between them. Even though it seemed that Drifter was just casually hanging around, her muscles were all tensed to run back through the kitchen if needed. All it took was for her to be called out by that woman. For now though... her golden eyes just observed almost silently aside from her chuckles vibrating between her lips. Perhaps she wouldn't have to deal with him now... he was getting a good share of mischief from the other lady.

The gunslinger happened to notice The Drifter in the doorway to the kitchen and he turned the other cheek as he informed, "What the skank says isn't true."

Lady glared back at The Drifter and then looked back at the gunslinger, "Why are you talking to her? Were you hoping to screw her too?"

She then turned to The Drifter, pointing her gun accusingly at the gunslinger. "Do you know how many women he's been with? He's probably the biggest man whore in all Tikita. Don't fall for him, he'll just bed you and run like the commitment-fearing coward he is!" The gunslinger's brows knitted tightly.

"If yer tryna' say that I might have the clap? Then yous got an applause," he jeered.

Lady fired three more rounds at him.

"And your come backs are horrible!" she yelled.

The gunslinger countered them, growing tired of this argument. He had never dueled this way before, and it was driving him nuts.

There was a dull hum in the distance that quietted the gunslingers as their eyes rose to the sky. What started off as a small speck grew into a metallic, black bird: a helicopter that hovered above Gambit's bar. The gunslingers squinted through the whipping wind, grass, and leaves, watching as the helicopter hatch was drawn open. Stepping out onto the leg of the steel bird was a sight that put a mask of dread on the gunslingers' faces.

"Yahahahahahaha!" his laughter poured into the sky.

They could hardly hear him through the noisy din of the propellers, but as they watched his lips move rapidly and his arrogant jabbing motions with his finger, they knew Renagade Randy was about to do what he did best. Quickly, the gunslingers began emptying their dials. Rounds tumbled into their palms and they quickly replaced them with a strange type. Once the weapons were loaded and cocked, they aimed their pistols upon the helicopter and relentlessly unleashed a volley of rounds.

When the rounds met with the helicopter, they detonated, sending the bird spiraling in a ribbons of fire and smoke into the forest where it detonated.

"I don't know how that son of bitch lives..." the gunslinger growled.

Lady Mag crossed her arms and embraced herself.

"He never knew how to stop talking..." she muttered to herself.

The gunslinger's brows rose in horror.

"Don't tell me you...Renegade Randy?" he asked.

Lady Mag screamed, "Like hell!"

"You fucked Renegade Randy!"

"Stop saying that you bastard!"

The air was filled again with more gun shots.

Her brow arched up high at the inquiry of him wanting to sleep with herself, then snorted with laughter. As if he had the chance. There was no man that could get to her heart and then only way to get into her pants was through her heart. The Drifter was no common saloon prostitute. Then the sound of something strange in the air caught her attention and drew up it upwards causing Drifter to blink a few times at the whipping wind around her.

"These people be not right in the head Ah tells you. Not right in the head at all..."

She holstered one of her revolvers, then flipped open the six-shot-barrel of her other while looking upon the rounds that were in there.

"What the hell? Ah ain't shot nones anna Ah on'y got five rounds? That don't make no sense... "

Pulling the pistol closer to her face with squinting and observing eyes, she tilted the gun back and forth to see if the missing round was in there though there was no possibility of it hiding. She shrugged and started to walk off in no particular direction.

The Drifter is a Gunslinger!
Other Notable Events: Gun and Drifter's first kiss, random battle scene with a tentacle monster, and other random characters from the chat were involved.
Date: 9/5/2009

Today was a good day for the Drifter. She had for once woken up in a decent mood, and she was going to flaunt it. Entering the bar was a most beautiful and tempting woman wearing a most revealing burlesque outfit. It made women jealous and men cry. Marilyn was going to be the ultimate walking tease. The heeled boots on her feet, lightly thumped against the floor boards as she journeyed across the room, only to walk around the bar counter for a good drink. Today was a drinking day...

Grabbing down a tumbler then reaching for a nice bottle of whiskey that had not yet been opened, the Drifter poured herself a generous amount. She shot a look over her shoulder at Callaway and winked at the poor soul.

"Well howdy there, stranger."

Lifting the glass to her lips, the Drifter took a long veteran drink before slamming it down on the counter.

"Now that's what Ah am talkin' 'bout. Ain't nuthin' like good ol' whiskey to wake someone up. How are you doin' sugar?"

She leaned slightly over the bar counter and laughed that familiar melodic song.

The Gunslinger then gave up on the thought. He felt he was being too accusing.

"Nothing, don't worry about it."

He saw the woman behind the counter and assumed she was the waitress.

"Pardon, I'm gonna need a refill."

He waved his empty glass at her, and then dropped it when his ears took in her voice. The gunslinger's mouth fell open as he studied the woman closely.

"...No..." he said in disbelief and then erupted into laughter.

A grin spread along her lips before answering the other woman.

"Well Ah juss be fine. Fine and dand--"

She stopped at the very fact that a familiar face broke into her conversation. One of those fine lines of hair upon her forehead rose up and she placed a hand on her hip.

"Ah ain't no waitress, you should now better Mister Trouble Maker."

The Drifter then gave him a grin with a wink as well. It was always good to see men react to her dressing up.

The Gunslinger rested a hand on his chest as he leaned over trembling with mirth.

"Nothing," he said, calming his riot. "I thought she was someone-"

Mister Trouble Maker...

"What the hell!" he roared.

He then looked angrily, rising from his seat and gesturing at her get-up with his hands.

"What is this? You tryna' look like a lady now?" he asked The Drifter.

She walked from behind the bar counter and almost got up in his face with hands on her hips. Those eyes of her narrowed while peering straight into his own.

"You gotta problem with the way that Ah be dressin'? Ah can be juss as lady lookin' as Ah want!"

She had stamped her foot on the last word to get her point across.

The Gunslinger raised his chin at her as though he were the bigger man.

"You can't do that! People are tyna' eat and talk in here, and here yer struttin' around like some saloon queen. This is a public place!" he argued weakly.

He looked away from her, scowling at the far wall, so he didn't have to look at her.

The Drifter snorted with laughter and crossed her arms just beneath her bust.

"Ah see it now... yer juss offended 'cause ya finally realise that Ah be juss as good lookin' as the rest of them women in here."

She decided to toy with him a bit more to let him realize it even more. While he was looking away from her, the Drifter stood on her tip toes to whisper seductively in The Gunslinger's ear.

"You thank Ah'm purdy."

The Gunslinger tilted his ear away from her lips, and then looked to Callaway.

"It's because she's dressed like a skank!" he exclaimed.

The word skank muting the room. He then saw the Paper Knight trying to talk to Alidiana. He slapped his hand upon the bar top in front of her and flashed the male a grin.

"I'm sorry, are you lost?" He then growled without shouting over his shoulder to The Drifter, "I don't care what you wear. You ain' purdy."

The Drifter smirked at the Gunsligner.

"Yer right, Ah ain't purdy... Ah am damn sexy in this here outfit."

And with that comment, she walked back to her drink to refill it and guzzle down that sweet amber liquid. After setting the glass back down, she licked her lips knowing that the Gunslinger would most likely be looking at her. Oh how devious Marilyn could be when she wanted to be.

The Drifter smiled beautifully at Callaway and gave her another wink.

"Well thank ya miss. You be purdy yerself. Not that the man over there," she pointed accusingly at the Gunslinger, "would know when a purdy lady was around him."

She went into a fit of giggles before pouring herself yet another drink from the whiskey bottle.

The Gunslinger waved his hand in refusal.

"I already had a bit of alcohol. If I have anymore, I might be a new man."

He turned to The Drifter. "I know what a pretty woman is. Lady Magnificent is a pretty woman, and I don't know if she was the reason for your sudden sex change, but she didn't have to try so hard."

He crossed his arms and declared, "She was just damn gorgeous."

The Drifter almost spit out her drink at his comment back to her. She set down the tumbler on the bar counter before turning to face him again.

"If Ah remember correctly... you were nuzzlin' up on my ass yesterday. Why would ya be smoochin' up on someone's ass if ya thank they be more man than nuthin'?"

The Drifter bent down lightly, and adjusted her stocking, and took her sweet time in doing it as well.

The Gunslinger turned the other cheek and replied simply, "I have no idea what yer talkin' about, but what I can say is that your sex change ain't workin'. You just don't got it, and if you thought you could ever be a lady, then you got false dreams."

After saying that, he returned to the stool before his sandwich and glared at the spot where his Long Island used to be.

Damn wench made me drop my tea, he thought irritably, recalling the startle she had given him.

The Drifter was now a tad angry at him for saying that she could never be a lady. Well, she was definitely change his mind about that and make him squirm. A grin spread along her lips and she walked towards him a bit coyly, before standing at his side. The Drifter curled her fingers around his chin giving him not much a choice but to look at her.

The woman spoke softly to him, "Ya really thank that Ah can't be a lady?"

There was a strange gleam in her eyes. Something possibly very mischievous.

The Gunslinger heard the click of heels, and then soft fingers beneath his chin. His head was then yanked in The Drifter's direction, his eyes widening briefly as he stared up at her.

Scowling, he jerked his chin from her hands and growled, "No, you can't. Go prance around some dog he kin stand to look at you."

He picked up the other half of his sandwich, and bit into it. If she wasn't such a lousy gunslinger, he would have shot at her.

The Drifter spread that grin across her lips again, she didn't care that food was in his mouth. Let him choke for all that the Drifter cared. Grabbing at his face with both hands, The Drifter kissed him harshly on the mouth and quickly.

"Too bad then fer you... was thankin' you could help me with this virginity problem that Ah seem to be havin'."

Turning around abruptly, she jutted out her hip with her attitude, and sauntered back over to her whiskey.

The Gunslinger was too busy holding the food in his mouth to even appreciate the kiss. His eyes narrowed at her, watching her saunter back to her whiskey. Swallowing his food, he raised a single finger.

"Never kiss a man while he's eating," he informed. "But I'm sure you'll learn soon enough. Yer the worst whore ever."

He then expected there to be a drink for him.

Slapping his hand upon the counter angrily, he ordered, "Gonna to need another Long Island."

The bartender procured one for him that he accepted gratefully.

"Thank ya."

The Drifter stopped before she could return back to her drink. The woman turned around with her hands on her hips and sucked on her teeth.

"A whore huh?"

The Drifter strode back over to him, and raised her leg only to push against his bar stool with those powerful thighs, hoping to toss him onto the floor. She then picked up his drink and downed it easily before taking up his sandwich as well and took a nice bite out of it.

"'Least ya got good taste in food, stranger."

This was just too amusing for her. The Drifter felt invincible.

The Gunslinger felt the jarring of his stool and posted his hand out upon the opposite seat. As he craned himself back upwards, he was surprised to see she had took a drink from his liquor and a bite from his sandwich.

"Alright, you gone too far," he growled.

He set down his glass and made a motion to grab her leg, but then he drew back his hands. He didn't even want to touch her. He felt so...weak all of a sudden. That there was nothing he could do.

"I ain't stayin' for this," he grumbled and stormed off for the door.

Oh no. He was not going to get away that easily. She chased after him in those boot heels, and when she was close enough The Drifter jumped onto his back with arms and legs wrapped around him.

"Juss admit that ya thank Am' purdy! All ya got ta say is that the Drifter is purdy!"

She just wanted to hear the words come out of his mouth.

The Gunslinger stumbled forward when he felt someone suddenly latch onto his back. He felt her heels pressing into his groin muscles and arms wrapping about his.

"What the hell!" he exclaimed and staggered about.

He could feel her breasts upon his back and as he grasped at her firm, thighs, and then her tight bottom. Every time he felt his fingers land on areas of her body, they felt burned. Emotionally burned as they then retracted. He stumbled into the door and wildly searched for the doorknob. Upon finding it, he got it open and stumbled outside, spinning around with her still clinging to him and looking crazy.

"Get off me!"

The Drifter was dragged outside before she could respond to the man that had called her gorgeous. Her arms and legs just tightened around him even more as the Gunslinger was trying to get loose of her.

"Not until ya say that Ah am purdy! Ah ain't lettin' go you bum!"

The woman was just not going to relent until she got what she wanted. Poor Gunslinger.

The Drifter was pulled off of the Gunslinger after feeling strange appendages wrap around her body. With a gasp, she started to be drug across the ground.

"Shit!"

Her hands desperately tried to grab onto anything that was within arms reach, and that happened to be Gunslinger's ankle.

"Neva!" he roared, and suddenly felt The Drifter off his back.

He peered over his shoulder, his eyes widening upon seeing her wrapped in dark tentacles that were dragging her back towards the bar. When she latched onto his ankle, he kept that foot planted firmly on the ground. His hands acting conditionedly, grasping the stocks of his revolvers an yanking them from their holsters. The dial was popped open, old rounds tumbling into the palm of his hand to replaced by bright ones. Slapping the dial closed, he cocked his right revolver and took aim, firing light rounds at the tentacles coiled about the girl.

The Drifter grasped even more tightly onto his ankle while the tentacles tried to pry her fingers loose from his boot.

"Git this THANG OFF O'ME!"

Her eyes closed at the sudden brightness around her, before she was yanked completely from Gunslinger's boot. The woman was drug a good distance across the bar yard, only to have herself catch a support pole for dear life.

"Ah ain't wanna die!"

This was going to be another bad day... and it was all the Gunslinger's fault... or so she told herself.

The Gunslinger eyes were similar to that of Lady's. They were stern and focused, and his face almost seemed empty of any other emotion that wasn't determination. The Gunslinger threw back his shoulder, his body turning sideways as he ran along side the appendage toward The Drifter. He grit his teeth and lunged at her, offering his body that she could take hold of once again as he lie prone across his stomach, firing light round after round into the bar at the creature.

The Drifter released the pole only to be drug a few more inches, and she grasped onto the Gunslinger in desperation. She was trying her best to kick off the tentacles that were wrapped around her legs to no avail. And then she let out a quiet gasp as something entered into her side that was quite sharp. It was followed by a screamed of pain, causing the Drifter to release her hold on Gunslinger. Silently in the back of her head, she had wished that she wore her usual dress and had at least her revolvers on her.

There was a reason why the gunslinger had been using his right revolver instead of his left. That reason was revealed when the creature finally left the cover of the bar and charge out the doorway. His light rounds were exhausted and ready for another reload, and his gun couldn't have picked a better time. When the creature lunged at him with elongating claws, he fired his left revolver and the world seemed to slow down as the bullet sluggishly left the muzzle. The Gunslinger rolled out from under the creature, out of harm's way, as he took this time to reload his right revolver with the last eight light rounds he had. Snapping the cylinder closed, he stood over The Drifter, the tail of his long coat, shadowing her body above her waist as he retook his new position, aiming his guns at the creature's side. After twenty seconds, the slow round darted off, like a normal round and the world sped up once more. For someone who had been exposed to the effects of the slow round, it looked as though their opponent had teleported to a different position.

The Drifter clung to his ankles with a hand on each boot with her tight grasp. It was good that so many years of trail riding with cattle had given her a good amount of strength.

"Why's it always got ta be me?"

All she could do was to hope that he could get rid of this strange creature attacking her as well as him not falling.

"Ya git me outta this an' ya ain't gotta say that Ah am purdy. Ah promise!"

If the Drifter was a weaker woman, she would be crying at this point.

The Gunslinger raised forearm protectively over his face as the SAMA sleeve would absorb the damage from the swipe, however, the power behind the swat made him lose his balance, and his feet shifted within The Drifter's grip until his legs faltered beneath him. He thrust down his left arm that he had used to block the swipe, the butt of his palm catching the ground to halt all his weight from dropping onto the woman's side. Instead, he sat on her his legs spread before her face and crotch a foot away. He fired three light rounds from his right revolver. One round for the creature's clawed hand, the second was a curve shot to arch over the creature's claws to its waist, and the third was a straight shot for a point between its eyes.

The Drifter blinked as suddenly she had quite the view of the Gunslinger which made her frown.

"Ya ain't gotta be throwin' it at me! Ah ain't foolin' 'round! Git this thang off o'me!"

The woman refused to let go of him lest she be drug off for the perverts desires. Why did she always attract crazy men? Blush was on her cheek as well... even in this predicament, it was quite embarrassing to have a man sit on her like this. Even in the darkest of times, there was humor to be found.

The Gunslinger head snapped to the right as he felt the creature's hardened fist meet with his face. As he tipped to the right, his right revolver fixed itself at the creature's sternum since it had risked getting so close.

The Drifter saw the punch that was given to Gunslinger and it made her eyes go wide with fright.

"Shit."

She had to think fast... "Aright Aright! Ah go wit' you but ya cain't hurt 'em! Ah even go nice an' quiet like mister!"

Her mouth always go the better of her... it was probably not the best of decisions to make.

The Gunslinger collapsed upon his side, since he had been headed for the outcome from getting punched so hard. His left foot swung upwards, the toe of his boot aimed to connect with the tentacle the creature unleashed for his throat. It was to cripple the limb. His foot then slammed down next to The Drifter's hip. His left leg was arched over her and his guns positioned between his legs and upon the creature's face. He frowned deeply before spitting some blood.

"You ain't goin' no where," he told The Drifter gruffly.

His eyes stared sharply at the creature. That was all he needed to say to her. She was such a coward, and always losing hope. The worst thing was that she was a gunslinger with that attitude.

The Drifter still had her hands clinging to the Gunslinger's body and it was a very difficult task to get her fingers pried loose. She felt hands grabbing at her and kicked at the man while trying to hold against the pull on her body.

"Ah ain't goin' nowhere! Lemme go dammit!"

The Gunslinger's words had given her a bit more confidence but she was still pretty much useless in this situation. All the Drifter could think about was the lack of guns in her hands, and the feeling of her body trying to be ripped in half by the opposing forces.

The Gunslinger 's grip increased upon his guns when he felt them get slapped. His arms swung to the side but he was able to snap them back toward the creature. He could feel The Drifter still desperately clinging to him and he thought, So she isn't such a coward after all. When his brows furrowed deeply, adrenaline surging into his hands to unleash more rounds upon the creature, they soon loosened when he saw the creature disappear. For ten seconds, he remained in that serious position, allowing his adrenaline to dissipate and nerves to settle. With a long sigh, he collapsed back upon the ground with his legs still comfortably arched. His arms were limp above his head, clutching the revolvers still and his jaw donned a dark bruise.

The Drifter felt the strange hands of that other man release her causing her to look up a bit to see what had happened. He was gone. With a sigh similar to the Gunslinger's she collapsed onto the ground.

"Ah need a drank... "

Her hand then went to the small wound in her side and the Drifter could feel a small amount of warm wetness on the top of her clothing.

"Great... thank Ah bled a lil' bit. Damn thang an' his weird arm-thangs."

It wasn't a vital wound and it would heal nicely on its own in time, not that it made her feel better about the hole in her burlesque top.

The Gunslinger glared at the sky as he suddenly spoke, "You are the worst gunslinger I have eva' seen."

The Drifter shook her head at his comment.

"Ah ain't no gunslinger. All Ah am is a wanderer... they ain't call me Drifter fer no reason. Ah only have guns to protect myself on the open."

She raised up her hands and pressed the heel of both palms against her eyes. She really needed a good shot of whiskey.

"I hate to break it to you, but the way you saved yer ass back when you fought Lady ain't anything a normal human can do. You are a gunslinger, and until you realize that, yer going to foreva' be a crappy one."

The Drifter slammed her hands down onto the ground beside her before sitting up to turn and look at him with a bit of pain in her side.

"Look mister... Ah ain't no gunslinger person yer talkin' 'bout. Ah ain't no silly bandit person."

It was easy to tell that she had no clue as to what he was talking about.

The Gunslinger without bothering to argue with her about it. He felt the only way he could prove it to her was to fight her. Just as she sat up, he too, sat up. He tucked his revolvers back into his holsters and swung his right hand toward the right side of her cheek.

The Drifter pulled back from the punch easily before it could even get close to her pretty face.

"What the hell are ya tryin' to do!"

The reaction time was too quick for any normal human to have. This fact she really didn't see as being different from anyone else. The Drifter just thought most people were lazy when she wasn't. In retaliation of the punch, she reared back her own clenched fist to aim it at his jaw.

The Gunslinger brought his right hand to the fist aimed for his jaw, he pushed it to the side so it would pass over his left shoulder. He then was going to take a risk with her. His left hand snagged the stock of his revolver and raised the muzzle to aim directly into her face. Without hesitation he squeezed the trigger, to discharge a round that could go straight through her skull and kill her.

The Drifter felt her punch being reverted back over his shoulder which caused a frown and look of concentration on her features. It was almost as if she could feel him reaching for his gun with her heightened senses. With that same odd reaction time, The Drifter used her left hand to swat at his own left hand, forcing it to her right. The gunshot made a ringing sensation in her ears but not a flinch did The Drifter make. All she did after that was to just glare into his eyes with her own not even saying a word.

The Gunslinger made no action after that. He froze with his gun, having been diverted over her shoulder. He remained frozen in that position until she'd wake up from her concentrated condition to realize her surroundings.

The Drifter blinked and then stood up from the ground.

"Don''t know what yer shootin' at me fer affer tryin' ta save me. That juss ain't right stranger... ain't right at all. Dodgin' bullets ain't a nice past time fer me. Ah ain't 'bout to get no scars on my body."

She placed her hands on her hips and stared down at him as if expecting something. Perhaps an apology or at least an explanation.

The Gunslinger flipped his revolver and tucked it back into its holster. He then stood and turned his back on her, heading back for the bar to get himself a drink.

"Humans can't dodge bullets," he said simply.

She was such a child. To him at least any way. She even cock-blocked his earlier moment with Aliana. He was about ready to take the beauty to bed.

The Drifter snorted in arrogant laughter while following after him with her hands still on her hips.

"What are you talkin' 'bout! Ah juss be as normal as the rest of them feller an' been doin' it my whole life."

She then mumbled something that was mocking his statement.

Humans can't dodge bullets.

The Drifter passed him by to returned to her whiskey, pouring herself a good portion.

The Gunslinger returned to his watered-down Long Island. He wasn't going to talk to her about it because if she thought that was normal for her to dodge his strikes and his gun, she was dense.

"Yer 'bout as smart as a sack of taters. Yellah and blonder than a chicken's rear-end. I neva' miss you sex-changed tramp," he jeered.

The Drifter watched him out of the corner of her eyes while tilting her head back to down the liquor quickly. Slamming it back down onto the counter, she took those few steps to him and poked him harshly in the shoulder.

"An' you are 'bout as good lookin' as a horses ass! There ain't no bullet that can get to me. Ah don't care who ya are or what skill ya got. You ain't the ferst to try an' shoot at me."

She was growing angrier by the second, which was uncommon in her.

"An' as fer the man wear! You try to make a livin' out on the road as a woman wit' yer virginity still intact! Better to look like a man than to get raided an' raped by road bandits an' them baddie trigger happy gunslingers!"

By the end of her argument against him, the Drifter was practically yelling in his ear.

The Gunslinger growled not liking how she was prodding him so harshly.

"It's becuz yer a gunslinger!" he roared at her. "Yer a gunslinger! That's the only reason to explain how you survived this long. No other woman can survive a desert of bandits and gunslingers and still be a alive and a virgin."

He then slapped her hand away. "And yer the only drag queen here!"

The Drifter passed a glance over to the man that had just appeared beside her but she was too busy confronting the arrogant man in front of her.

"Ah ain't no damn gunslinger. Ah don't know why you keep sayin' that to me. Yer one o'them headcases ain't you?"

She stepped slightly to her right and took hold of his duster with both hands.

"AN' STOP CALLIN' ME SOME TRAMP! THAT AIN'T NO WAY TO TREAT A LADY!"

The Gunslinger rose from the stool when he felt her dare lay hands on him and swatted her hands free of his duster. His face was now inches from her's his eyes shrunk with anger and lips parted as he slightly bore his teeth at her like a dog.

"You ain't no lady," he told her harshly. "And I agree now..."

He nodded his head slowly.

"You ain't no gunslinger. Yer just a sex confused fool and coward. Where ever you come from, you should just go back."

The Drifter past a glance over to the other man and shook her head, "Ah ain't need no help from no one right now."

Her attention then was caught again by the Gunslinger, now close to her body. Her chest heaved in her anger and she just clenched her fists at her sides. It took her only a second to send her hand flying across his face in a slap.

"Ah ain't got nowhere to go to."

Something about that statement hurt her, even if they were her own words. She back up from him and muttered an apology before walking back to her drink.

The Gunslinger head turned to the side, his teeth clinching briefly when he felt the sting from the bruise that was already on his face.

When The Drifter walked away from him, he exclaimed at her back, pointing to the bruise on his face, "Yeah, yer responsible for this one too."

He didn't care much about the man who didn't know how to mind his own damn business. He grasped up his liquor and just headed for the door. He needed to drink in peace.

The Drifter was angry... far more angry than she had ever been. Reaching over to the man next to her (NPC), she grabbed his gun before he could even respond.

"You shouldn't turn yer back onna woman scorned."

With pupils retracting until they were almost unseen, the Drifter took precise aim right past his ear. It would be enough for him to feel the wind of the bullet but do no harm against him. A warning shot perhaps.

The Gunslinger didn't even react to the shot that screamed past his ear. If she had the balls to shoot him, then she would have done it. He pulled open the door and stepped outside, kicking it closed behind him.

"Moron," he muttered.

He then drank from his drink.

The Drifter stalked over to the door and ripped it open.

"That's right! Runaway you coward!"

She waved the gun in her hands up in the air as if she were going to do something with it.

"Ya couldn't get a bullet inta me if ya tried!"

Stick 'Em Up!

The doors of the bar opened with the silhouette of what looked to be a man but upon a second glance, one would noticed the predominant female features. She took a few steps into the bar with her hands twitching just a few mere inches from her revolver holsters dangling from her hips. The face beneath her large brimmed hat tilted up ever so slightly, revealing a grin while the woman quickly drew out her twin revolvers. Aiming at no one in particular, The Drifter shouted out with a bit of arrogance, "Alright then ya'll. Time ta put up yer hands 'cause Ah'm gonna take ya fer all tha' ya got! Stick 'em up!" The grin seemed to never disappear as if the Drifter were not serious at all with her demands.

The sounds of her stirrups could be heard jangling as the woman walked further into the bar with her guns still raised just below the level of her shoulders. She didn't stop until the Drifter was just a few feet away from the man who had drawn the black revolver. "Ain't ya got some decency. Ya wouldn't shoot a lady now wuddya?" She chucked and holstered her guns again then flipped up the brim of her hat. "It's better ta get a gal a drank don'tcha thank?" It was apparent that the woman was not here to cause trouble. She just needed a little time to relax after being on the dusty road of life, which was clinging heavily to her worn leather gear.

The blatant disregard for the offer of company didn't seem to phase the woman at all. She just gave him a simple shrug, then with her right hand planted on the bar counter, the Drifter vaulted over the bar top with her duster flapping behind her. Her boots made an obvious thud against the floor panels at her landing, while dust rolled off of her in waves. She even patted down on her duster and vest which sent ever more to float around in the air around her. "Well fine than, Ah juss be gettin' my own damn drank if ya ain't got no bus'ness with talkin' an' such. Now where is tha' whiskeh." The Drifter took the few steps toward the shelves, moving bottles around clinking them against each other. But then she stopped at hearing something from the other man that was close to her and turned with an arched brow while tilting her head up to see him better under the brim of her hat. "Ya say summin' there? Ya know it's rude ta say summin' and not speak up."

Sucking on her teeth, the woman took off her hat and placed it on the counter in front of her then crossed her arms beneath her bust. "Ah ain't no tomboy. Ah be a right fine lady an' if ya can't see tha' Ah be sayin' tha' ya a damn fool." She flicked her thumb beneath her nose while her attention was caught by the other man. "Well ya would be dirty too if ya been spendin' most of yer days on horse back juss ridin' ta nowhere fella. It ain't like Ah can juss stop an' get nekked ta bath anywhere tha' I please." She turned around again after that statement while listening in to their conversation discreetly, still looking for that bottle of whiskey.

And there is was... the perfect bottle of whiskey. Oh what a beautiful sight it was to the drifting woman. She could have cried if she was more feminine. Turning around quickly she set the clear glass which held that alluring amber liquid inside of it on the counter, then reached for two tumblers. After her gloved fingers wrapped around the heavy cylindrical structures, she flipped them up in the air only to catch and slam them down next to the bottle. "Alirgh' less get ta drinkin'." She chuckled a nice little melodic laugh, and poured a gratuitous amount of the harsh liquor into the tumblers. Since the first man that Drifter had spoken to was not interested in talking, she would try the other. "Here ya go. Drank up. I ain't gonna waste my good ol' american dollars fer nuthin'." She slid one of the glasses towards the Gunslinger aiming to get his attention off of business and to give her company.

Bending down slightly, she rested her forearm across the bar top with the drink in her other hand twirling it around absently. "What ya ain't got the belly ta take down tha drank? Shame. I thought ya be a bigger man than tha'. Wuss thankin' about challengin' ya ta a drankin' contest but if ya can't take a woman beatin' ya... " The woman grinned at him, while standing up fully once more to sip from her glass. It was then that she heard the loud thump of his forehead against the counter... "Well damn... I ain't gonna get now competition now."

The Drifter and Grifter

The doors of the bar opened to reveal only a silhouetted person against the coming morning. Hands were held out slightly with itchy fingers just an inch from her guns. She drew them quickly and shot off a few rounds... or rather she pretended to as her colts were not loaded at all. "Bang yer dead!" That simple statement gave away that she was female and had quite the humor possibly. With a grin beneath the red bandanna covering half of her face, the Drifter twirled her guns in her fingers and then slid them back into the holsters at her hips. With each step that the woman took her spurs jangled happily while her boots thudded against the floor. The woman reached the bar counter, but instead of sitting down she went straight for the whiskey.

The Drifter pulled down the red cloth that was covering the lower portion of her face and ran her fingers along the myriad of bottles on the shelves. There had to be a good one somewhere. "Aha! I gotcha ya little rascal." She snatched up a nice bottle of the amber liquid and grabbed a tumbler near her, throwing it up to spin in the air before catching it again. The Drifter set the whiskey and the glass down on the counter only to plant her hand down squarely on the top. Then with a slight bend in her knees, the Drifter lifted and launched herself over the bar top with her duster fluttering behind her. It only took her a moment after that to find the stool in front of her and poured herself a good amount of the drink.

The Drifter lifted up the glass to her lips while flipping up the brim of her stetson to get a better look at those present. She wanted some conversation and at least one person would be good enough. With a small shrug of one shoulder, The Drifter took a sip of the harsh drink then spun around in her chair, "Whheewweeee! That some good whiskey right there. I ain't had none better fer a long time now. MmMm." At the sound of boots up above her head though, Drifter put down her drink then lifted her head with a hand on top of her stetson. "Them be fightin' steppin's Ah tells ya." Her honey colored-brown eyes then darted about the room to find this person with the arrogant step. The woman spotted him and arched a brow with a skeptical look... well more of a 'If there gonna be a fightin's Ah'm gonna get the hell outta here righ' quick an' fast.'

The Drifter broke out into a grin at the greeting that he offered to her which caused her to relax by slumping down into her chair and to throw an arm over the back of it. "Mo'nin'. Don'tcha thank it be juss a bit early to be drankin'?" It would be odd to hear this coming from her as she too was drinking.

The Drifter reached over to grab her drink and then slumped against the seat again, resting the tumbler on her thigh. "Never a bad time to be drankin' fer me. If Ah chud Ah'd be drankin' in my sleep if ya know what Ah mean." She took a sip of the whiskey then set it back down on her thigh with a sastified exhaled of air. "So what brings you aroun' these parts, stranger?" While asking him this question, the woman lifted her up legs to prop them up on the bar top with her ankles crossed.

The Drifter thought upon his words for a moment while leaning her head back to look up at the ceiling. She shifted her foot slightly with the sound of a soft jingle from her spurs. "Wella... Ah juss be passin' through Ah thank. Never stayed in one spot fer too long. Ah guess you could say that Ah juss go wher'ever Wind takes me. Ayup."

The Drifter reached down her to belt and shifted it in a very unlady-like manner. "Ayup. Ya got that righ'. They ain't be callin' me Drifter fer no reason where I be from. Ah on'y juss got here a few hours ago on my horse, Wind. Got the dust an' dert offa me though. Ain't nuthin' like a good bath affer a long drive." She lifted the glass resting on her thigh and took a long drink before replacing it back to its previous location.

The Drifter brought her gaze down from the ceiling at the sound of him sitting down next to her. She reached up with the hand that had been dangling over the back side of her chair and removed her stetson to sit in her lap as well. "Austin, Texas! Wella... at least that is where Ah was born, I gess. Nuthin' but rollin' hills 'round there but it ain't stay the same way if ya juss travel a few good hunner miles in any dirr'ction." She paused and gave him a side glance. "So where ya from, person wit' no name?" She laughed slightly at her little joke and hint towards asking for his name.

The Drifter lifted her glass in the light brown leather gloved fingers, and tilted it towards him. "Name's Drifter... I ain't be tellin' others what my real name be... ain't no point. Juss be movin' along eventually. Grifter an' Drifter from the same state... ain't that juss funny." She chuckled softly again low in her throat before taking another swig, then setting the empty glass down on the counter. The woman then placed her hands behind her head and closed her eyes as if she didn't have a care in the world at that time.

The Drifter arched a brow while still keeping her eyes closed. From a distance it would almost seem that she was asleep but in fact she was quite alert. One never knew when danger was afoot and Drifter needed to be able to run or hide at a moments notice. "What you got like... some people affer you or summin'? Or are you juss like... lost in the wind like me?" She chuckled a bit for adding more to her words. "An' juss like I always say: Don't interfere wit' something that ain't botherin' you none. So if life ain't botherin' you none, then juss leave it the way it be."

The Drifter hummed in thought for a bit while pondering on his words. "Ah ain't met no bounty hunners. Juss them fools who call themselves sheriff when they no better than the rest o' them baddies in black hats." She shifted the arms behind her head slightly before continuing. "Ah ain't nuthin' but simple cattle gurl, roaming wher'ever the livestock goes."

The Drifter seemed to have completely dozed off as her breathing had regulated in a soft snore. It had been a long day for the woman and she had barely time for any rest as Drifter was all too willing to get to know the folk around here. Perhaps it was a good thing that her horse Wind was in the stable for the evening and not tied up to a pole or the mare would be quick angry with her rider. The country woman drifted off into comfortable dreams and seemed like her comfort physically was not that great, but Drifter could sleep anywhere if it called for it.

With a considerably louder snore then the ones that were coming from her all night long, the woman snorted then stirred in her seat only to peer up at the ceiling. A wave a panic hit her at not remembering falling asleep which caused her to slam her chair down onto all fours. It was then that realization hit her and the crick in her neck. "Ah be fallin' asleep at a bar...? Where dat nice fellar man go?" Rubbing her eyes with the soft leather gloves that adorned her hands, Drifter wiped away the sleep and blinked before looking around.

As bullet started to cascade down on the bar top, Drifter grabbed her hat with one hand and quickly stepped away from the counter. "Ah ain't never seen nuthin' like that... must be spooks 'round here or summin'..." her honey brown eyes darted around the room with fear in those orbs. She didn't like spooks.

At the sight of the girl drawing a gun, Drifter immediately dodge beneath a table not caring that hitting the floor from her height was going to hurt just a tad. She rather have that hurt than to get shot by a woman scorned. "Damn it to hell... an' Ah juss woke up not a few minutes ago..." She tucked her head into her hands with her stetson pulled low over her hair and waited until she needed either run or everything passed over.

Shifting her weight on her knees slightly, the woman was still waiting for everything to pass over. It was not like she could really tell from her view point either. "This is what Ah git fer sleepin' in a damn bar... Here goes nuthin'." Gathering all the strength and courage she had, which wasn't much at all, the Drifter peaked over the top of the table to watch those who seemed to be having a stand off. She would only forget about those people at the giant walking in. Jumping up with her hand on top of her stetson and wide eyes, Drifter shouted out. "Hot damn that be a big feller!"

She was startled in the least when he nodded at her, causing her to jumped back with the sound of her spurs jangling lightly. The woman was just a skiddish person especially when there was someone considerably taller than her... by far. "If he were green Ah'd say he be that green jolly man person..." The comment was more to herself than to anyone else. Drifter bent down slightly and swiped the dust off of her knees before righting herself to take another look around. "At least he ain't causin' no troubles... "

Taking off her hat and slowly approached the big guy with her boots thudding on the floor and the spurs still jingling lightly, she arched a brow at him. "Wella... why you so big anyhow? You ain't like stupid or summin' are ya? Ah here that strange folk like you ain't got the right brains in 'em." She was staring at his mid section at first, but then Drifter tilted up her head to look him in the face. It didn't help with the crick in her neck from falling asleep at the bar counter.

She took a quick step back as he leaned towards her to get a better look she gathered and placed her hand on top of her stetson again. "Who be this Anubis person ya be talkin' about. Ah ain't never heard o' 'em. An' Ah ain't tainy! Ah be pretty tall fer a gal." Drifter dropped her hand from her hat and placed both on her hips while still looking up at him curiously.

Blinking after he bent down closer to her, which caused a massive wave of cowardice to wash over her, Drifter put on hand to her chin and curled her fingers around it. "So that there face thang be named Anubis? Ah ain't gettin' why you be namin' somethin' like that. But whutever floats down yer creek Ah gess." The woman took the hand from her chin and scratched at the back of her neck. "An' Ah don't see how a mask be keepin' away snakes. Alls you needs is a good pair o' boots like these." She lifted up a foot slightly and pointed down at them.

At the word drink, she considerably perked up. "You bet yer bottom fallin' on a cactus that Ah be likin' a drank. Whiskey all the way fer me!" She grinned with a laugh up at him and motioned towards the bar with a little jump. "Ya ever have whiskey big feller? Mighty fine good stuff there. Ain't nuthin' else like it." The Drifter was slowly walking towards the bar counter while speaking, and with that noticeable jingle of her spurs.

He motioned towards a bottle of clear liquid that she recognized all too easily making the Drifter shake her head. "That ain't be no whiskey. That there is uh... that mexican drank taquilla or summin'." Sitting down in the stool she had slept in, Drifter reached for the bottle of whiskey that had been left there with still a good amount of alcohol in it. "Now this here... this here i whiskey." Drifter poured herself a tumbler only to guzzle it down quickly to pour another after it.

The doors of the bar opened widely while a woman walked through with a bit of arrogance in her step. This evening she was dressed quite differently then previously seen before, without her usual trail gear. A red collared button-up shirt clung to her bust and only reached down just before it, tied in a knot. Hugging her hips was a pair of denim cut off pants that rose up high on her waist but just as high on her thighs. The woman's spurs jangled slightly with each step she took towards the bar counter when a small smirk played around her lips.

Turning around at a slightly familiar voice, the drifting woman noticed it was the man from early this morning. "Well howdy there. Be good to see ya again." She laughed and leaned against the counter with her elbows propped upon it behind her. As a brink crashed into the window, the woman spun and then vaulted over the bar counter to hide. She never did like loud noises or any type of violence.

The Drifter popped up from behind the bar with a grin on her face. "Well Ah knew that, Griff. Ah wuss juss ah... well... gettin' to the dranks... " She cleared her throat then turned towards the shelves to grab a nice bottle of that beloved alcohol, whiskey. This she slammed down infront of Grifter then reached up above her head to the overhead shelves to grab down two tumblers for them. "Sorry 'bout fallin' asleep on ya earlier... di'n't know that Ah was so tired. But that's what Ah geet fer not restin' before playin'." Her laugh was melodic, though interrupted by the slamming of two glasses in front of Grifter.

The Drifter poured a gracious amount of the liquor inside the glasses then slid Grifter's over towards him. Grabbing up her own drink, the Drifter walked around the bar counter to take a seat near him. "Ayup... Ah was quite righ' tired Ah thank. Well... there ain't no thankin' about it." She shook her head with a smile before noticing the Desperado out of the corner of her eye. This caused her to lean in towards Grifter to whisper at him, though it was hardly a whisper. "See that man there? Ah juss asked him to join me inna drank yesterevenin' an he said no. Can you believe it?"

The Drifter nodded and leaned back to sit once more straight in her seat, though the woman hardly ever sat up completely straight. "Ayup... strange man that. Ah dunno who wouldn't wanna juss have a drank, Ah mean it ain't like Ah am tryin' to jump on the ferst man that Ah see." She paused with a chuckled and sipped from her drink. "Ah juss ain't the settlin' down type an' Ah don't get all lovey dovey with them fellers around no wheres." She passed a humorous glance at Grifter. "It don't keep 'em from tryin' though still. Silly men. Always tryin' to get somethin' they can't have."

The Drifter faked a pout at him trying to look as disappointed as possible yet still a bit playful. It was a tough expression to pull of, but the woman had it down to a point. "My my now... if Ah di'n't know no better Ah would say that you juss tried to flert with me." She couldn't hold the expression for too long, and her lips spread out into an inevitable grin flashing those pearly whites at him. Raising up her legs up, she settled her ankles onto the bar counter then crossed them over while taking a good drink from the amber filled glass.

The Drifter sighed with a hand to her forehead and shook her head with blonde strands of her hair dancing around her shoulders. "Well Ah gess that you could say that Ah am used to it. Been startin' a few bar fights myself 'cause of the way Ah look." She abruptly took her gaze off of him with blush on her cheeks to sip at the drink in her hand again. Drifter didn't like being the center of attention... especially when it was men fighting for her company. Violence was just unneeded.

The Drifter had her attention grabbed by a man shuffling into the bar and sitting down near her with what appeared to be blood trailing from him somewhere. "Shoot! That man be bleedin' er sumthin'!" Bringing those long sun-kissed legs down off of the bar top, Drifter stood up quickly and rushed to him, only to place a hand on his shoulder. "Hey misser... you ok? Do you need some sort o' help or summin'?" She leaned over the counter slightly to try and get a good look at his face while her expression was quite worried.

The Drifter knelt down fast after not being able to respond fast enough to his tumbling... or so it seemed. She had something about her the woman was hiding from everyone. "Damn Ah thank summin' is wrong with his head. Griff can ya go get somethin' ta patch him up with?" Leaning over the man, she gently patted him on the cheek to see if he was responsive. "Hey Misser... ya gotta keep yer eyes open. Can ya do that fer me?" Her voice was gentle and comforting, yet her eyes were worried while roaming over his body for injuries.

The Drifter noticed the wound immediately and reacted upon instinct by untying the small shirt that cover her bust leaving only her bra in place now. It was a matter of emergency and she knew that others would understand her actions. "Shit this ain't no good. Ah cain't even tell if it's a bullet wound... bleedin' a bit much to be one I s'pose. This might hurt a bit stranger..." She took the shirt and pressed it harshly against the wound with all her weight down on it. She hoped there was nothing wrong with him internally.

The Drifter shifted slightly above the man while still trying to speak to him. "Ok sugar... we gonna try to get you all fixed right on up. Ah ain't no doctor though but Ah know some stuff... GRIFF AH NEED THAT STUFF! HE GOT A BIG ONE IN HIS RIBS!" She placed her hand on the elf's forehead, trying to make sure that he was still conscious.

The Drifter nodded at Grifter and steadied herself on her knees. "Alright... one three then Ah be pullin' away the shirt... One. Tew. Tree." And with that the blood stained shirt was taken away to allow whatever medical services that Grifter had to offer. All she could do no was to offer the man sweet words and comfort. "Oh shit Grif, that ain't no bullet wound... he got shanked by some sort o' blade." Drifter quickly pressed her shirt to him again with the same pressure. "What do we do now?"

The Drifter closed her eyes at the blood splattering on her face, she didn't seem to mind it as her thoughts were on saving this man. "Ah can't take the pressure offa him. Ya got to go get the whiskey... Ah can stich 'em together... Ah know how to sew... " If that had come up in a normal conversation, Drifter would have blushed.

The Drifter cursed under her breath again, and grabbed the vodka with her free hand and pulled off the topper with her teeth. She took the shirt off of him and then poured a generous amount of the alcohol into and over the wound before pressing her blood soaked shirt back onto the wound. Rummaging about in the aid box, she grabbed a needle. Drifter just didn't have enough hands even though Grifter was standing next to her. There was just not enough time for communication now. Using her knee to press the cloth against his would, Drifter threaded the needle with the medical thread and took the shirt off of him again. With precise movements of her fingers, the woman began to stitch him up until it was completely pulled together again. She poured more vodka over the wound to sanitize it again then doused her shirt in the alcohol again before pressing it back against him. "Grif ya need to check fer more wounds."

The Drifter leaned over even more over the man to hold him down with one forearm across his upper chest gently to stop most of the thrashing and still using her other hand to keep pressure applied to the wound. She was trying her best to keep him alive. "C'mon now. Ya ain't go nowheres. Keep it tagether stranger."

The Drifter was reaching for the shirt when the man started to scream out some sort of language that she did not understand. As Grifter took the job of keeping the pressure applied to the wound, Drifter scooted around and lifted the man's head into her lap softly while running her hands down his face. "Hey misser... you cain't be shoutin' like that. Save yer energy."

The Drifter looked up at Grifter with her hands still petting at the sides of the elf's face gently. "He don't sound too good... " Concern was riddled across her pretty little face while looking back down at Tejas.

The Drifter blinked as the man started to speak in english, now able to understand him. A sigh seemed to escape from her lips, but she flinched as more blood was spattered onto her face and neck by the man's coughing. Without trying to move the elf's head too much in her lap, Drifter reached for a gauze pad and wiped at the blood that was on Tejas's face. "Al'ight you gonna be ok now... Ah think you gonna make it through this." She completely refrained from making a comment on his lost daughter. It was not the time for such a comment.

The Drifter shifted slightly and slapped the man's cheek softly. "Hey misser! You cain't be fallin' asleep yet! Ya got to stay away!" She was starting to panic now...

The Drifter nodded while still running her hands gently along his face to keep him from losing consciousness. "There ya go... juss keep tellin' yerself that. Ev'rythang in gonna be alright... Ah promise ya." Never before had the woman felt so useless before.

The Drifter looked up at Grifter and shook her head. "Ah usually got my cattle brands on me, but they are too far in the stable with Wind in there... ya gotta get some iron and heat it up fast or summin'. Ah dunno what else to do... " She was just a simple human... or so she thought, but even with what she truly was there were no magical properties about her that could help the man.

The Drifter sighed while taking in the bloody sight of her very exposed chest now which was just now dawning on her. She put a smile on her face and leaned in towards the man while Grifter was busy preparing the iron poker. "Hey misser... where ya from? Ah ain't seen none like you 'fore now. Yer kinna strange but inna a good way if that makes sense..." Drifter was just trying to make conversation to keep his mind busy and thinking.

The Drifter nodded at the elf-man and pressed her lips together while removing her hands from his face. She would do as he said but something came to her mind, he could bit straight through his tongue and bleed to death. Reaching down to her waist, the woman unbuckled her belt and slid it out from the belt loops of her shorts. Drifter still did not say a word, yet waited for Grifter.

The Drifter grimaced at the site of the poker and coaxed the elf's mouth open only to shove her belt in between his teeth just before it was applied to his skin. Her eyes closed shut tight in preparation for the screaming that was sure to come soon.

The Drifter opened a single eye at the horrid smell of burning flesh filled their immediate area, and saw that the man had gone slack. Quickly she removed the belt from his mouth and ran a hand back through her hair, leaving blood streaks against the sunshine blonde. 'I need a drink...' It was a simple thought but if one had just gone through all of that themselves, they would be saying the same thing.

The Drifter took in a long breath only to let it back out quickly and looked at Grifter. "Wella he seems to be ok fer now... maybe we can put 'em in a room or summin'. Best that he rests fer now." Looking down at the man, she noticed that his eyes were open and she gave him a smile. There was hope for him yet.

The Drifter shifted around as the man was sitting himself up and she grabbed beneath his arms to help him to do so. Using her thighs as leverage, Drifter started to lift the man up pulling as much of his weight up with her as she could, which was considerable. Once they were standing, she moved forward and to his right slightly while throwing one of his arms around her shoulders. It wasn't too hard to do as the man practically towered over her. "Alright then less get you to a room... er... Ah suppose that you can use mine or Grifter's for the night. Ah got no problems sleeping outside or anythang." Supporting the man, Drifter looked over to Grifter for more advice on what to do next.

The Drifter shook her head at both Grifter and the man she was holding up. "No ya got to rest fer now. There ain't no reason fer you to be runnin' around an' whatnot. Ah dunno who you be runnin' from but we can hide ya good if need be." She looked at the rag that was being offered to her and sighed. She needed to bath... and soon. The blood on her was making her feel a bit icky.

The Drifter felt a shiver run down her spine at the piercing gaze this man seemed to have even with just one eye. "No Ah cain't say that Ah have... Ah dunno even what that is..." The woman paused for a moment before catching the shirt with her free hand and tucking it into her shorts slightly. With a sigh she nodded. "Alright misser... Ah'll help ya get to wher'ever it is that you need to get to. Ah got a horse that can take you there an' she come straight back to me when yer done. So no worries 'bout that part." Drifter was reluctant to look the man in the eye again, but she managed it.
The Drifter chuckled and shook her head again. "Ya ain't gotta be payin' me or nuthin'. Ah juss can't sit by and watch a man die. That ain't the christian thang to do... can ya walk or do ya need help gettin' to yer horse and mountin' 'em?"

The Drifter nodded and tossed him a look by craning her head up with a smile. "Alright then... off we go to get you up on yer horse." Looking back at Grifter, she spoke to him as well. "Ah'll be right back. Gonna go help this man 'ere get up on his steed." Gripping her arms around him tighter, Drifter started to walk slowly to make sure that he would be able to keep his feet.

The Drifter guided him towards the door of the bar, and once meeting it she kicked it open with a foot before stepping outside with the elf-man. Oh what a day this had been, it was a good thing that Drifter didn't get too far into the drink. It seemed that God was on her side today. Spotting a rather attractive creature, Drifter nodded to it. "That yer horse right there?"

The Drifter chuckled again while moving towards the horse... "Ah ain't scared of no horse... raised a mustang myself. Nasty critters when ya ferst get 'em." She paused for another moment. "You got some strange werds there... stranger." After reaching Xas, she kept out a wary eye for a turning neck towards her.

The Drifter placed her hands on one of his hips supporting him so that he did not fall. "Easy there friend... don' be so fast next time... lemme give ya a little push." She throws a bit of strength behind the push but not too much where it would send him flying over the side. It was painful to fall off a horse... she would know.

The Drifter smiled at him while the opal was being placed in her hand and she listened to his words. "Like Ah said... you ain't gotta be thankin' me fer nuthin'. Juss be thankin' those ya worship fer sendin' ya here with me an' Griff back there." She clutched the small object to her chest gently and nodded at him. "But ya best be ridin' safe ya hear? Don't be pushin' too hard to get away from whatever it is that ya be runnin' from."

The Drifter rose up her free hand and waved the man off as his horse took him away from her. She shook her head and turned on her heel to return to the bar once more. "Well... that was right interestin'. Done a good deed today... done a good deed." Drifter looked at the opal in her hand while her other opened to door to allow her entrance. She didn't know how it was going to do what he said, but the woman was going to take his word for it. Instead of making for the bar counter, Drifter headed up to her room to clean herself and change into new clothes.

The Drifter returned downstairs with the familiar sound of her spurs jingling lightly against each of her steps. All the blood seemed to come off of her, even from her blonde hair. She had to discard her clothing though, causing her to wear something more normal. Her white button up shirt which reaches just above her wide leather belt and always has the first few good buttons undone. Her vest lays over it which plunges down in a V to her mid section. Denim jeans cling close to her hips, with a small boot flare after her knees. Her worn leather boots are always on her feet. No hat. No gloves. No duster. No weapons.

The Drifter waved back with a tired hand and called out to him. "Wella... Ah was gonna stay an' have 'nuther drank... but Ah be gettin' a bit tired now... gonna head up to bed fer the night Ah thank. See ya 'round Griff." She turned and put her hand on the railing before looking back over her shoulder, "An' good job wit' helpin' that man wit' me." With a chuckle, Drifter headed back up to her room to tuck in for the evening.

Renegade Randy: First Confrontation

He was standing outside the bar with his hands at his sides, his face empty of worry as he stared across the ten paces at another gunslinger, looking to claim his prized possessions. The weather had been kind to them today, casting the sky in gray as they stood across the road separating the square clusters of cars. The slinger was just finishing a cigar, drawing what he could from the spade before curling his lips and flicking it to the asphalt. His lips then unzipped starting from the right corner of his mouth to his left as he exhaled audibly.

“So…you’re the notorious gunslinger, eh? Best in the West,” he mocked the emphasis on his title.

Zieg’s lips cocked into a long smirk as he replied simply, “Enchantée.”

The gunslinger wrinkled his nose snidely and slapped his foot upon the cigar butt, crushing it.

“Well, let’s get this over with. Might I present my pistol before we begin?” He didn’t give Zieg much of a chance to respond. His mouth opened and he raised an index finger to speak when the gunslinger blurted, “It’s the Deux 56!”

He jerked his right hand from behind his back, yanking free some enormous, quadrilateral contraption with flashy lights and other do-dads. It was about six inches in width and eight inches in length, and it bore two triggers for barrel one, which looked wide enough to lob an orange, and barrel two, small enough to fire grapes. It was black and slick, and the gunslinger was enthralled in explaining its constitution.

The gunslinger popped open this and slapped closed that, his lips sputtering spittle better than what Zieg assumed the man could fire that thing. His maroon eyes rose to the sky, and his pinky slipped into his ear, digging around at the wax that he dragged free with his fingernail. He glanced down at the substance, it seemed a bit dark rather than healthy as he rolled it into a ball with his thumb and flicked it aimlessly.

He’s makin’ my ears bleed, Zieg perceived irritably. What the hell is he talkin’ ‘bout? I should have finished my cereal. ‘Was damn good, now it’s going to be soggy.

Zieg’s eyes narrowed and he sighed softly. Worst. Duel. Ever.

Lady Magnificent: First Encounter
Other Notable Scenes: Renegade Randy's cameo appearance.

The gunslinger was sitting tied up and cross-legged in the middle of the parking lot. Thick wire was binding his arms against his sides as the Green family and their hired gun Lady Magnificent stood some yards away. His eyes were closed, and he was chewing his bottom lip out of hunger and habit. He had been caught, and out of his own stupidity too. The vixen had been disguised as a saloon waitress and Gambit’s bar wasn’t even a saloon: fail one. She had the most magnificent pair of female jugs he’d ever seen, which were a trademark of the gun-wielding beauty: fail two. Lady Magnificent crossed her arms beneath her fairly concealed bust. The first three buttons on her plaid top were undone and the frilly lingerie that clutched them was hinted upon her sun-kissed skin. She was a brown-skinned beauty, she was. Hair the color of cinnamon rested on her shoulders. Her sleeves were rolled up and buttoned at her biceps, and her two black and red revolvers were pointed to her east and west.

Her right hip was jutted out slightly—not as much as Iris Green’s—as she leaned all her weight upon her left foot. The bandits were trying to conclude their business.

“Well, there he is,” said Lady, obviously.

She graced the bandits with a careless smile as she waited for them to go collect the gunslinger. The Green Family was in a huddle, whispering ecstatically amongst each other. Iris glanced back over her shoulder at Lady, wrinkling her freckled nose.

“Yeah, but you ain’t get his guns. He still got his guns,” Iris said.

Lady gazed across the parking lot at the man sitting patiently and without a care. “He’s tied up. He can’t reach his guns.”

She then noticed that the wires had only bound him to his wrists and that his hands were more than capable of reaching down to grab his revolvers. She blushed with embarrassment and smiled with amusement, “Oh my; that is a problem.”

The Greens broke from their huddle, and Iris stood before Lady with her hands on her hips.

“Yahahahaha,” the shady man’s laughter resonated throughout the parking lot. “What is this I see here? You finaleh been caught, eh? Mistah, Best…in the West.”

He stopped by the Green Family, throwing back his head in his annoying and boisterous mirth. The Green family and Lady Magnificent stared at the character with raised brows.

“Renegade Randy, what are you doin’ ‘ere?” Iris questioned in shock.

Lady Magnificent cocked a brow. “Oh, so you know him? I thought you said you didn’t have a hired gun already.”

The Green Family simultaneously began waving their hands in surrender.

“N-no, w-we don’t,” Iris whimpered. She then looked to Randy. “We thoughts you were dun fer?”

Renegade sounded another laugh that made Lady bite her bottom lip angrily.

“No! I survived. Want to know why?” he asked.

“NO!” the gunslinger roared across the parking lot, but it was too late.

Renegade Randy unbuttoned his vest and pulled up his white undershirt to reveal the strange vest underneath. “This is my new osmium-steel vest also known as OZ, which I think is way better than SAMA! It…”

The gunslinger’s eyes rolled back into his head as Randy continued to boast about his gear. He was the lousiest gunslinger only because he never knew when to shut up.

Someone put a bullet through my head, the gunslinger mentally begged.

Even Lady Magnificent’s fine brows were twitching as she absorbed all the useless information the old-slinger was spouting.

Can a Human Dodge Bullets?
Other Notable Events: Enter mysterious characters Grifter and Rio, The Drifter learns she's not so normal after all, and Lady Magnificent teaches The Drifter how to be...the wrong kind of lady.
Date: 9/5/2009

The Drifter stalked back across the room trying to holster then gun at her hip, but it only clattered to the floor of the bar. She stopped for a moment then continued on walking without picking up the gun. That man just knew how to make her angrier than a dire wolf who just lost his jackrabbit. Only when the crowd parted away from the woman did she see a familiar face lying on the ground.

"What in damnation? Griff? Griff!"

The Drifter trotted over to him with the sound of her boots hurrying on the floorboards until she knelt down over him in that most revealing outfit.

The Drifter was starting to think that she would never have a normal day in this place and the calling of the open road was beginning to become more and more tempting to her. She grabbed his leg just below the wound and turned it slightly.

"Ah cain't see what's wrong wit' 'em."

Her eyes then flicked up to his face to see the blood there, and quickly the Drifter reached into her cleavage to whip out that same handkerchief she always seemed to have. Pressing it to the wound on his forehead, she took his hand and placed it over it.

"Ya gotta hold it there."

The Drifter then stood up and grabbed the nearest knife, then bent back down to take a handful of his pants into her finger with one hand, then with the other to start cutting away at the fabric.

"Ah ain't no strange person... humans can dodge bullets... he was wrong... all wrong... "

The Drifter didn't even wince at the touch on her shoulder but continued to saw at the clothing until there was a large enough hole for her to see that it was a bullet wound underneath. She tried her hardest to not listen to his words, it wasn't the first time that she heard a man mumbling while in shock. The Drifter shook her head and pressed the cloth back to his forehead then stood up again to retrieve the first aid kit from behind the counter.

"Ya thank he is talkin' 'bout something else? Ah mean... he says gunslinger differently than Ah do..."

Kneeling down once more on the floor next to Grifter with first aid kit in hand she opened it and took out the bottle label 'alcohol'. This Drifter poured over the wound while holding down his leg with her other hand.

"Ah mean... he kept callin' me one... but Ah ain't one... juss summin' ain't addin' up."

With expert hands, and after setting down the bottle, the southern belle started to wrap up the wound before tending to his other.

The Drifter tugged the dressing tightly and tightened it to where pressure would be kept yet still allow for decent blood flow to the rest of his limb. A brow arched at finally hearing his words, and she looked over at him.

"Ah ain't Em, Griff. Ya gotta get a'hold of yerself."

Grabbing a gauze from the kit and the bottle of alcohol, she dipped the sterilizing liquid onto it graciously. After scooting up towards his head a bit, the Drifter removed her red handy from the head wound and pressed the white cloth to his brow to clean off the blood. It wasn't as bad as it had first looked which was a good thing to her.

"Humans can dodge bullets... Ah ain't strange... "

Marilyn just could not get the words of the Gunslinger out of her head.

The Drifter shook her head while still dabbing at his head wound with the small white cloth.

"Ya ain't gotta worry 'bout whatcha said. Yer juss not in yer right mind. Fixed yer wounds though...gave me a right scare seeing ya on the floor bleedin' an' all."

She took off the cloth after he was mostly cleaned up and reached in the aid kit for a large bandaid only to place it on his head. It was a bit comical to see but she held her laughter.

The Drifter sighed and nodded.

"O'ny if you answer me a question..."

And she asked him without waiting for his reply.

"Can humans dodge bullets? Ah was told summin' earlier an' Ah really need ta know the answer to that..."

She bit down on her lower lip while hoping that he would give her a good answer.

The Drifter frowned and looked down at him still.

"But Ah've been shot at more times than Ah can count, an' neva been hit once... Ah could even show ya... you gotta gun?"

She was dead serious in this question. She had not a doubt in the world that she could dodge his bullet.

The Drifter shook her head and looked around. The gun that she had dropped earlier was still there and she went to retrieve it. The Drifter needed him to see how she dodged bullets in order to decided if it was normal or not. Returning back to him, she stood there with the stock held out towards him.

"Ya gotta do it. Ah need this answered good."

She leaned down ever so slightly.

"Ya gotta trust me on this one."

The Drifter knelt down again, though this time about a good foot away from him.

"Look ya ain't gonna hurt me. Ah said that ya hadta trust me on this one... Ah need to know if Ah am normal. Ah really do... an' then Ah will tell ya all that ya said."

There was almost desperation in her eyes now. The words of the Gunslinger were killing her at this point.

The Drifter nodded at him and shifted into a more comfortable position, now placing all of her weight on her calves while they were perched beneath her. With a finger she pointed directly at her forehead.

"Righ' there. That stranger Ah see all the time did it... and Ah got away from it. An' Ah can do it again."

The Drifter flicked her eyes to the end of the barrel then back to his own which were now closed.

"Ah be ready whenever you are... juss make sure that Ah don't know when itsa commin'."

It was clearly visible that she was not nervous in the least and completely confident with her unnatural ability.

The Drifter didn't blink a single eye. To him it would have seemed all too unreal; her movements. It was as if time itself slowed down for the Drifter as her reaction time kicked into full gear. She could hear the creaking of his bones moving to pull on the trigger, then the sound of the hammer striking against the lead, and the grating sound of the bullet traveling down the barrel towards her forehead. Her arm shot out and swatted away the gun so that the bullet flew right past her ear at a more than safe distance. It was all over in less than the blink of an eye. The Drifter just merely stared at him, waiting for his judgement.

The Drifter sighed and nodded her head.

"Well ya got some creaking finger joints... gettin' old ain'tcha?"

It was an attempt at a joke but the humor just didn't come through for her.

"Ah need a drank... and you were talkin' 'bout some Em gal an' 'bout some people not lettin' her go to somehwere's Ah gess."

She lifted herself up off the floor and turned her back to him, only to take up her tumbler of almost forgotten whiskey.

The Drifter simply nodded her head before turning down the alcohol then slamming the drink on the counter.

"Yep... Ah be right sure that ya did. You should try shootin' me again but with my back turned... sumthin' juss don't feel right ya know?"

The Gunslinger had definitely corrupted her thoughts with that simple statement. Humans don't dodge bullets. Out of all those times that her posse had been chased and raided, The Drifter was the only one that would never get shot nor miss a single man with her own returned fire. Just too strange... Gunslinger...

The Drifter nodded, "Aright Ah won't ask ya to do it again."

She seemed to go into her thoughts completely. The woman would not ask him about his past, it only lead questions into her past and that was something she did not talk about at all. There was no big secret or anything, the Drifter just didn't like to dwell on what had come to pass. Reaching over for the gun, she looked down the barrel.

"Summin' wrong with this gun too... the bullet is draggin' too much in the barrel. It don't sound right affer bein' struck. Prolly needs cleanin' or summin'."

The pupils of her eyes retracted into almost non-existence as she stared down the small tunnel.

"Sure does..." Setting it back down on the bar top, she noticed Rio and smirked a bit half heartedly. "We ain't the only ones that seemed to have a bad day... "

The Drifter jabbed a thumb to the new comer that was not too far away from her and Grifter.

The Drifter turned her eyes from Rio only to look at Grifter.

"What for?"

She really had no clue as to what he was thanking her for. It could have been a number of things. Then a though came over her and the Drifter looked back at Rio.

"Hey Mister... ya wanna shoot somethin'!"

She was still not satisfied. More than likely the woman was going to get as many people as possible to research that single comment from the Gunslinger. It could be a bad thing and it could be a good thing. It was already giving her more confidence which was the best thing so far.

The Drifter looked back over her shoulder at Grifter and spoke to him.

"Ah ain't one to ask 'bout personal stuff an' it seemed to shake ya up a bit."

Turning her gaze back to the other man Rio, the southern belle shook her lovely mane of strawberry blonde hair.

"Ah ain't gonna shoot atcha if that's what ya mean. Juss need to get my question answered good is all. Shoot anytime ya like."

Waving a hand toward Rio, the poured herself a good amount of whiskey before downing it easily not minding the burn at all. The Drifter didn't earn the title "Iron Belly" for no reason.

The Drifter shifted in her seat and tried to straighten out the frills of the small skirt she was wearing... well it could hardly be called a skirt at all.

"Wella you see here mister... Ah need a question answered an' Ah figgered that Ah need ta ask more people."

She thought a moment trying to find the best way to put it. Bluntly of course.

"See... there is this other mister an' he says that humans can't dodge bullets but Ah be sayin' they can 'cause Ah've been doin' it all my life on the trail an' such."

She pointed towards Grifter.

"He shot at me an' Ah didn't get hurt but he says that it was anticipated..."

The Drifter shook her head and placed her palms on the counter while staring straight ahead of her with determination in her eyes.

"Ah hafta figger this out. Ah hafta find out what he meant by gunslinger 'cause Ah am damn sure that he wasn't sayin' it the same way that Ah was."

She turned to Rio, "Yes mister. Ah want ya to shoot me, an' ya don't have to be too far none at all. Ah will even pay ya ta do it."

Bringing up her tumbler to her lips again, The Drifter took a long sip of the harsh amber before setting it back on the bar top.

The Drifter blinked at the request for her name. She even looked over her shoulder at Grifter for a fleeting second. Nodding, the woman lifted herself from her seat as well, then walked to Rio gently wrapping her hand around the back of his neck to whisper in his ear so no one else would be able to hear.

"Marilyn."

The Drifter then pulled away from him with blush on her cheeks.

"Juss don't be tellin' no one. They only know me as the Drifter 'round here an' Ah'd like it to stay that way."

It was a fair price for what she was asking him to do.

The Drifter nodded again with her eyes fixed on the floor. She hadn't spoken her name to anyone in years. It was odd that such a simple thing would cause so much embarrassment to her. The woman only hide her name because of the fact that she was a woman out with a bunch of men on the dusty trails with raiders and nasty gunslingers. It was only common sense to try and hide the fact that she was a female.

"Aright. Juss aim where ya please when ya want. An if ya hit ya owe me a drank stranger."

Walking back to her seat, Drifter sat back down and poured another shot for herself and tilted her head back to drown her tongue with that lovely alcoholic beverage that was her only love in this life. Whiskey.

The Drifter gasped slightly at the burn of that beautiful drink and then chuckled.

"Ya know Griff... The Drifter ain't the only name Ah got. They also call me The Southern Belle an' Iron Belly. Ain't no man alive that can drank me under the table. The Southern Belle... wella Ah haven't quite figgered that one out yet... strange folk be callin' me thangs Ah don't understand, but it sticks to ya."

The woman seemed not at all discomforted by the fact that her new companion would shoot at her at anytime. She was not preparing herself either, not even an eye glanced at the weapon on the bar counter nor was she purposely avoiding it.

"Yeah... there be some headcases 'round here. Ah seem to find all o' 'em. What's yer name anyhow sugar?"

The question was obviously pointed at Rio.

The Drifter chuckled, "Rio like the river down in Texas, ya know.. the Rio Grande? Been across it a few times myself. Back in the good ol' days Ah gess."

She frowned a bit and responded to Grifter's comment.

"That ah man that Ah said that Ah ain't normal, said that Ah looked like a tramp..."

The Drifter broke out into laughter as a memory came to her.

"Ah jumped on him and said that he had to say that Ah was purdy 'fore Ah let him go. Then that strange creature thang came affer me. Had some weird arms thangs like them jellyfish on the beach."

The woman waggled her arms out in front of her a bit comically to simulate that she meant tentacles. Dropping her arms on the counter again, she added more words.

"Thank he was gonna steal me the pervert."

The southern woman sure did know how to ramble on.

The Drifter again her instincts as that strange race of transhuman kicked into full gear along with her blood of being a gunslinger by birth. Time slowed down for her only once more as the reaction time that was far beyond a normal person kicked into high speed. The slide of a gun against wood was what had set it off in the first place. She didn't even need to look at him. It was all followed by the sound of his skin against the stock, the creak of his jointed finger pulling the trigger, the hammer striking the pin, the pin striking the primer, and the small explosion being caused inside the barrel before it rotated and slid towards her ribcage. The Drifter pushed against the bar counter, causing her to slide just out of the path of the lead piece while also pushing Grifter with her right hand backwards, hopefully out of the path as well. It was all over in less than the blink of an eye, and her movement would have proved unreal like she had teleported the chair and herself just a few inches away.

Arching one of those fine lines of hair upon her brow, The Drifter looked at Rio waiting for his judgement just like she had done to Grifter.

The Drifter sighed and scooted her chair back up the bar counter then rested her hands on it. It was almost hopeless. She still had not gotten the responses that she wanted. Why was it that she wanted someone to say that it was not human in the first place? Leaning forward, The Drifter simply pressed her forehead against the smooth wood while losing herself in that simple statement. Humans can't dodge bullets.

The Drifter sat up after a while and looked around. Grifter seemed to be in some pain, but there was nothing that she could do about it and Rio was off across the room staring at his rum bottle.

"You fellers need a drank. Ah know that Ah need one... well... Rio's got one an' he don't look too good either."

Laughter sprung from her lips in that melodic way but it died at Grifter's questions.

"Ah juss need to know what he was talkin' about is all... juss want to know..."

She motioned for Rio to join them again.

The Drifter passed a glance over to Rio with a curious expression on her face.

"Whatcha mean by that? Name not good 'nuff fer ya?"

She laughed for a bit before commenting more.

"Ya know Ah usually shot a man affer he learns my real name. But yer lucky today. Ah ain't even got my revolvers on me."

She motioned to just below her ribcage on her right side.

"Plus been bleedin' once today already from that nasty critter man that tried ta take me."

A displeased expression followed her words and she turned back to her whiskey to take another long drink.

There was muffled commotion outside the bar before the door was shoved open and storming inside was the gunslinger, eyes closed and brows furrowed peevishly as a woman clicked behind him in knee-high stilettos shouting obscentities at his back.

"You idiot! Do you have any idea how much money you've cost me?" Lady Magnificent screamed.

The gunslinger opened his eyes halfway nonchalantly as he shrugged and replied, "Shouldn't have shot at me."

Upon reaching the bar counter, he took a seat and ordered a bottle of whiskey. The bartender was prompt to set one down as Lady stood to his right, shaking her tarnished pistol at him.

"This is coming out of your ass!" she threatened.

Took a swig from his whiskey bottle and said, "Hope you like it hot."

Slamming her pistol down in front of him, she growled and went behind the bar to get herself something hard.

The Drifter blushed again at the comment of her name. It was still embarrassing to know that someone around here knew her real name. It couldn't hurt anything as she was not a wanted person but still... it was strange.

"Wella... you didn't tell me if that seemed normal or not ya know? Human? Whatchya thank of the way that Ah dodged that bullet?"

Her attention was then caught at the scene of the Gunslinger and Lady Mag. A grimace played over her lips, then a curious gleam in her eyes that signaled mischief. Leaning against the bar counter with an elbow, The Drifter smiled beautifully at Rio.

"If ya give me that answer Ah juss might give ya a nice reward."

Winking at him, she tried her hardest to not pay attention to Gunslinger.

The Gunslinger couldn't help but overhear The Drifter's southern babble.

"A nice reward? Would that be earplugs or a bullet to the head?" he muttered under his breath and gulped more of his whiskey.

He couldn't believe that she still denied being a gunslinger.

"Idiot..."

The Drifter turned her head from him while puckering her lips in thought and thrumming her fingers on the bar top.

"So yer sayin' that most likely that ain't a normal human thang... interestin'..."

Her eyes then flicked over to the Gunslinger and her brow furrowed deeply while standing up causing her stool to tumble backwards.

"Ah got a better reward fer him!"

Quickly the Drifter brought down her gaze to Rio and grabbed his face to place a kiss on his lips, not giving him much of a choice to deny the gesture.

The Gunslinger eyes were downcast upon the bar top carelessly.

"You kiss lika' fish," he jeered, having experienced that already.

He raised his head, his eyes on Lady as she searched the bottle for something special. It had to be special because she had been quiet and back there for quite the while.

The Drifter grinned down at Rio and patted him on the shoulder.

"Wella if it were laced with whatever that is then Ah'm sure that Ah'd b dead by now huh? Ya cain't say that ya didn't enjoy it at least 'cause Ah don't kiss like a fish."

Narrowed eyes flicked over to Gunslinger while she placed a hand on her hip arrogantly.

"Ah bet he'd want anuther one too."

With her free hand, the Drifter casually poured some of her whiskey into an empty glass and slid it in front of Rio as if to bribe him into another kiss silently.

"Oh my gosh!"

The exclamation made the gunslinger's brows raise curiously until a martini was set before him. It was pink with a green lime sitting on the edge.

"Isn't it so cute?" Lady squealed.

The gunslinger rolled his eyes. His dark eyes rolled over to The Drifter.

"Maybe he likes seafood."

Picking up her martini by the stem, Lady Mag scowled at the gunslinger and scolded, "What are you picking on that girl for? So she needs some help. Don't be such an ass!"

The gunslinger rose from the stool, taking his whiskey with him.

"It's gettin' too fishy in here," he said, referring to both females this time and headed for the door.

Lady Mag glared at the man's back from behind her glass.

"That better not have been to me."

She watched him leave without giving her a response.

"Bastard," she growled.

The Drifter stared daggers into Gunslinger's back while he walked away.

"Ah hate that man so much an' it takes alot fer me ta hate someone."

Passing a glance to make, she made a gesture towards the door with her free hand while the other was still perched on her hip.

"Ah don't see how you can be 'round him so much. He ain't nuthin' but a but a... "

The Drifter couldn't even give him a term that seemed worthy. With a sigh, she looked down at Rio again with apology in her eyes.

"Sorry 'bout that kiss thang. Ah didn't mean to be so brash but that man... he just gets on my nerve an' Ah don't even know his name. He is the reason that Ah had ya shoot me in the ferst place."

Bending over to right her stool again, Drifter sat back down between the two gentlemen in her presence.

Lady Mag smiled at The Drifter, hearing how fussy she was getting.

"He isn't that bad. I don't hang around scum, dear. If you think he's the worst thing on earth, then you have a long life ahead of you to find out," she told her.

Smiling softly, she watched the girl sit down and quickly clicked over to the table with the two men. She invited herself to take a seat at the table, pulling up a chair and plopping down with a proud smile.

The Drifter sighed and shook her head.

"Ah ain't nowhere near in love with that man. He brings more trouble than he's worth."

Her eyes then roamed over Rio as if taking him in completely for the first time.

"An' you ain't so bad lookin', so don't know what yer sayin' that all for."

She gave a little shrug as if completely confident in that statement then raised the whiskey to her lips that Grifter had set before her. After taking a small drink, and placing it back down Drifter looked over at him with a smile.

"Thanks Griff. Always knowin' what a gal wants."

Her attention was then finally set on Lady Mag.

"Well he be goin' around sayin' stuff like Ah ain't human and sayin' that Ah am some sorta gunslinger. Ah ain't no baddie raider like them folks... so don't know what cat got into his pants."

Rolling her eyes, Drifter took another drink, though this one to drain the rest of the amber fluid.

Lady Mag brushed a dark strand of hair behind her ear before setting her brown eyes on the girl.

"Gunslingers are transhumans, dear, which are no different when it comes to personality to normal humans. There are good and evil gunslingers just as there are good and evil people. No human can dodge the bullet from a gunslinger. If a gunslinger refuses to believe that they are a gunslinger, then that gunslinger is a dead gunslinger. There are some hunters out there, hunting for the thrill of being The Best in the West."

The Drifter leaned up in her seat with her legs wide open totally forgetting the fact that she wasn't wearing jeans at the moment.

"Transhumans? What you tryin' ta say that Mr. Grumpy Goatee man is one o' the gunslinger people?"

She reached a hand idly over to Rio and patted him on the cheek softly to reassure him that it was ok, and she enjoyed the kiss even though the circumstances were strange.

"Does he really thank that Ah am one o'these people too? Ah mean... Ah dunno... juss seems strange is all."

Her eyes moved from one object to the next and in no particular order. The Drifter had just drifted off into thoughts trying to put all the pieces together.

Lady Mag had noticed the woman's failure in female etiquette and frowned her fine-lined brows.

"If there is one thing you don't know, it's how to be a proper lady."

She reached her hand under the table to snag The Drifter by the thigh and grasp it tightly, her manicured nails pinching at her skin.

"Close them or keep your door wide open for all the wieners in here."

The Drifter jumped at the sudden pinch and frowned at Mag.

"Now whatcha go an' do that fer! Ah am a lady!"

Though that statement was far from the truth. Being on the trail for several years with nothing but men around her gave Drifter a more than tomboyish attitude and mannerisms. She closed her legs abruptly while muttering curse beneath her breath.

Lady Mag gave a lovely smile to the man.

"And you should get an education."

She then fanned her hand dismissively at The Drifter's whining.

"If you were a lady, you would know how to get what you want whenever you want. Do you know that I'm the only gunslinger that could ever catch your friend The Gunslinger? How, is a magnificent secret."

The Drifter leaned in closer to Mag with a fine brow arched up high onto her forehead.

"Whatcha mean? Ah ain't that greedy but there are times that Ah wished fer summin' an' couldn't get it."

She was interested in the least. The Drifter crossed her arms on the table idly while her bust rested on the top as well not caring that she was dangerously close to falling out of the revealing top. With an unsure glance at the two men around her, she tried to speak beneath her breath to Lady Mag.

"Ok so Ah ain't the best lady 'round here... Ah mean Ah clean up good, but Ah juss cain't seem ta act like 'em proper like, ya know?"

Blush rose up on her cheeks at confessing this. Oh how Gunslinger would have loved this moment just to make fun of her with one of his smartass comments.

Lady Mag leaned forward with a sympathetic smile. Her breasts rested on top of her crossed forearms, the hint of the frilly, pink, lingerie bordering her sun-kissed orbs.

"I understand, dear. If you want, I can show you my secret," she offered with a wink.

The Drifter nodded and leaned even more over the table.

"Sure thang sugar... "

She was definitely interested now in what the other lady has to say. But something made her shift in her chair a bit unsure... gunslinger? Drifter would ask more about it later.

Lady Mag pushed her chair back and stood. She took her empty martini, plucking the lime from the edge to suck on it lightly between her dark cherry lips. She walked over to the counter, setting down the glass and ordered a whiskey from the tender. Once she got the bottle, she carried it by the neck, her hips swaying as each daggered heel knocked upon the wooden floors.

"Come with me dear. I will show you the powers of a woman."

She headed for the door.

The Drifter watched the woman stand up and walked away, taking note of her every move and storing it for later use. She had to make sure that she herself walked that way next time.

"Aright..."

Drifter stood herself and leaned down to place a kiss on Rio's cheek.

"Be back soon or ya can follow Ah thank. Dunno exactly what's goin' on but yer more than welcome ta join."

Giving him a pat on the shoulder softly, the southern belle made her way after Lady Mag.

The Gunslinger was drinking on the porch when he had all and drank the rest of his whiskey. The gunslinger sighed and slowly rose off the steps. He faced the bar door and stared at it for a moment, thinking about the two annoying girls that resided in there. Tilting his head left and then right, he cracked his neck as though he were taking a necessary precaution; and just when he took a step forward, the door opened to reveal Lady Mag to his mild surprise. She walked straight toward him, holding the full bottle of liquor out to him that he absentmindedly took. Still holding the bottle, she walked him some ways back away from the bar before turning to face it. She watched The Drifter and her new friend came outside and smiled.

"Oh I see you brought a volunteer as well," Lady Mag said.

The gunslinger just blinked, feeling completely lost to what was going on. All he knew that if she was bringing him a whiskey, she needed to let go so he could drink it.

The Drifter walked through the door only to see that Lady Mag was now with the Gunslinger which caused her brow to arched up high again. Only when Mag said volunteer did that brow go higher as if it could.

"Whatcha mean volunteer?"

She passed a glance back to Rio then back to Mag and Gunslinger. This was becoming quite awkward but for what reason she didn't know exactly. All the Drifter did know that she was supposed to be watching Mag closely and learning.

Lady Mag rolled her eyes at Rio when he asked who she was. It wasn't time for Q&A. Setting her eyes on The Drifter, since she was her primary concern, she waved her hand over The Gunslinger like a Wheel of Fortune girl.

"This is a man. They like to think they are the brightest creatures on earth, but often times they're just plain dumb. There has always been a lady behind every great man and that is what I will teach you today."

The gunslinger moaned once she revealed what she was doing.

"Spare me. Is this that side-effect you got from fuckin' Randy?" he asked rudely.

Lady Mag grinned brightly, her brows furrowing a bit as she managed to suppress the urge to slap the man.

"Ahem," the noise allowed her to reset her thoughts. "A lady has four secret weapons..."

She thrust her chest out, resting her hands upon her hips. The gunslingers eyes immediately dropped to the woman's bosoms.

"First is your breast. Notice how mine already got the man's attention. Depending on their size, the attention span of a man's will vary."

She eyed The Drifter's pair over her shoulder and smirked.

"Your's will do nicely."

The Drifter immediately caught herself looking at Lady Mag's breasts then shifted over to Gunslinger to see that he was doing the same thing.

"Aright..." She cleared her throat and looked down at her own and poked them with a finger. "But they ain't as big as yers... "

Her eyes trailed up to Rio.

"Whatcha thank? They nice right? Ah mean attractive an' all."

Drifter did the same gesture that Mag had and took in a large breath while poking out her lovely tanned breasts towards Rio, waiting for a response like Lady Mag had gotten. If not, Drifter would have felt quite inadequate.

Lady Mag smiled, having watched The Drifter mimic the first part of her lesson.

"Now, second is your butt."

The gunslinger female released her grip on the whiskey and bent over until her hands could have touched the grass. They instead grasped her ankles, her dark hair hanging from her head like a curtain. In order for her to continue giving her lesson, she snapped her head back. Her mane tossed in feathery layers behind her head to tumble like silk between her shoulder blades. Her shorts were tight against her apple-bottom and the more her round humps tightened, the denim defined their curves. Her bottom and camel toe were inches from the gunslinger's crotch as he continued to stare, eying the black straps of the thong that embraced her hips.

"Your butt can be just as effective as your breasts in the case that a female gunslinger is an A."

The Drifter grinned at Rio after getting a good response from him then turned back to Mag to see that she had all but folded over like wallet in front of Gunslinger.

"My behind?" She glanced over her shoulder while jutting her rump out so that she could see it, as if trying to examine the firm flesh back there. "Ah see..."

Feeling the need to copy Mag once again, Drifter turned slightly leaving her backside facing Rio. She wasn't too comfortable with this gesture, but the Drifter bent over a good bit though not as much as Lady had. It left little to Rio's imagination though with what she was wearing. The frilly underskirt wasn't enough to hide everything, and most of her posterior end was left for eyes to stare at and gawk. Perhaps it was the fact that the ruffle skirt rode up in between her cheeks as if it were nothing more than lingerie.

"How's that? Lookin' good too?"

The questions to him were innocent, it was for educational purposes only and potential future uses.

Lady Mag then righted herself.

"Lesson 3 and 4 I usually like to pair together. They are your touch and your voice. You can use either or to get your message across," she instructed simply.

She placed her left hand flat against the gunslinger's chest, her fingertips pressing firmly against his pectoral. She then raised her chin until her lips just barely grazed his ear and moaned softly into his ear. The gunslinger was now looking just as nervous as Rio. His brows were turned upwards in worry.

Lady Mag turned from the gunslinger and explained modestly, "Of course that wasn't all that great, but it was the basics for someone like you. Your voice could use some work deary. You want to be able to get your message across clearly. A fifth and unmentioned weapon is a trick a man has never seen before. You don't have to do this."

She rested her hand over the gunslinger's hand that had a firm grip about the whiskey. She brought the head of the whiskey to her breasts, inserting it between her cleavage. With a twist, the bottle opened, and she popped her chest, her breasts flinging the cap to rebound off the gunslinger's chin.

His eyes widened in surprise, staring at the open bottle, and then her breasts in disbelief.

"What the hell."

Lady Mag smiled brightly. She looked at The Drifter and concluded, "Now to combine half of what we learned."

She turned to the gunslinger her lips slightly parted so he could here the soft sighs of her breath. Her head was bowed and her breasts pressed against his chest as she stepped closer. Her left leg arched and rose up along his thigh, the denim of her shorts tigtening upon her rear. She dragged her fingertips down his chest and even further to his crotch where she gave the fly of his pants a flick. The gunslinger closed his eyes and frowned deeply. He stepped back away from Lady Mag and started walking toward the bar.

He mumbled almost shamefully, "I need to...use the bathroom."

He walked past Rio and The Drifter with a mad lumping having formed at his pants.

The Drifter stood up straight again and passed another glance at Rio while turning to him.

"You aright sugar? You look a lil' uncomfortable..."

She was unsure of his state of mind, as she was after all a virgin. Eyes darted back to Mag as she spoke. Touch and Voice? Sure she could do that the Drifter thought silently to herself. It was the last trick that got to her though. Drifter wasn't sure if she could do that one just yet but she would try aside from the bottle ability. Walking over to Rio, Drifter placed her hand on his chest softly while pressing her body against his just barely in a graze before leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"Ah am so sorry 'bout this..."

Keeping in mind that Mag said that her voice needed work, Drifter used more touch to even it all out by leaning back from Rio while feathering her cheek along his until her temple rested against his jaw. While the blush was deepening even more on her cheeks, Drifter rose up her leg on his hip then grabbed his hand to place it on that muscular flesh.

The Gunslinger returned having forgot about his whiskey. He handed it off to Lady before turning to walk the walk of shame back into the bar, and up the stairs to a room where he could be alone for awhile. He slammed the door and the lock mechanisms were heard tumbling into place. Lady Mag was smiling proudly though she wasn't too pleased with The Drifter's display. She had done good, but her male subject had reacted like she was used to getting men to react.

"You did well, dear. Your male friend is sexually awkward, but then again, you're not exactly me darling."

She confessed a small portion of arrogance before shrugging.

"I never thought alcohol hindered a man's capability to get-it-up but that's all you need to know for now. You have a very nice body, and as a female gunslinger, remember you carry more than just your guns."

She winked.

The Drifter Coaxing him to squeeze his fingers, she gave a soft sound of pleading while biting down on her lip more seductively than the Drifter knew. It was out of embarrassment more than anything. Remaining in this position, she waited for his response again. The Drifter nodded while removing her thigh from his hip with the soft thud of her boot against the ground.

"Yeah... fun I s'pose but more embarrassin' than anythin' else."

She wrapped her arms around him tightly with an embrace as if trying to apologize to him again though with just a friendly gesture. The Drifter could hear Mag's words, which made her sigh softly against Rio's neck.

"Yeah... Ah will try ta get better Ah gess... ain't exactly an expert bein' virgin an' all."

A little proud smirk graced her lips at this feat. It wasn't everyday someone clung to their innocence being how old she was. Lady Mag's lesson then clicked into place. So sex was a weapon or at least the promise of it.

Releasing Rio, the Drifter turned to Mag, "So uh... Ah have ta ask you a question or two..."

If Drifter could have blushed more, it was in this moment.

Lady Mag rolled her eyes at the man trying to justify his sexual dysfunction.

"I suppose we all have something to protect," she said condescendingly. "If the outdoors feel like a laboratory, then I'm even more concerned for you."

She then added. "Not really."

She clapped her hands when The Drifter revealed that she was a virgin.

"Oh my. There is much for you to learn, dear. But don't worry, I can teach you how to be The Best in the West," she emphasized in a naughty manner.

The Drifter blinked and looked down at the floor. She had gotten what her next questions were going to be.

"Well yeah Ah do wanna learn an' all but... cain't juss give it away ya know? Gotta be like... special or summin'. Ah dunno... is it really all that it's worked up ta be?"

She reached up a hand and scratched at the back of her head.

"Ah mean... should Ah wait fer someone special or juss give it away like nuthin'. Ah juss don't know too much 'bout 'side from the stories Ah've been told by the boys at camp down."

She was nervous which caused her to ramble.

Lady Mag crossed her arms and smiled softly. She decided to be honest.

"You should always give it to the one you love..." she then added cynically. "And then when he cheats on you for another pair of breasts, you're free to do what you want!"

The Drifter grimaced a bit and dropped her hand from her hair.

"Wella... that's juss the problem... ain't no man been able ta tie me down or nuthin' but if that's what you say."

She sighed and blew a few strands of her bangs out of her face while shrugging almost hopelessly.

"Well, if you wait too long, you'll be a saggy-breasted hag before you know it. You might as well enjoy life young, dear," she reasoned.

The Drifter shook her head.

"Cain't juss make myself love someone... but Ah gess that Ah can try to find someone... Ah dunno... this whole thang juss gets to me Ah guess."

She crossed her arms beneath her chest while a thought came to her.

"An' Ah ain't no bad kisser either... damn bum."

At least Rio had seemed to enjoy it slightly. Wait... was she a bad kisser? Panic seemed to cross over her features, eyes going wide. The Drifter wouldn't really know. She hadn't kissed to many people before intimately.

"You get better and better at kissing the more you do it. I wouldn't worry about commitment right now in your life dear. I'm sure you have more important events in your life to worry about. I mean, look at me? I'm no longer a virgin, I'm educated, single, and I enjoy every experience I get. What you need to decide, is if you're a gunslinger or not."

The Drifter frowned at that word again. Gunslinger.

"Well... from what you've told me, and that man that causes more trouble than anything else... an' the whole bullet thang... Ah juss can't seem to keep makin' up reasons that Ah ain't... but Ah don't know anythin' 'bout or nuthin'"

Lady Mag smiled softly.

"Though I don't like to say this, but if there's anyone you should learn how to gunsling from it's that bastard upstairs," she confessed.

She didn't learn from him, but she kind of wished she did when she was young or at least had his mentor.

The Drifter groaned and rolled her eyes.

"But he is so rude! Ah doubt that he would teach me how ta be a good gunslinger."

She was now brooding on how to get him to do so. Would she have to use the tactics that Mag just taught her? Oh god, Drifter hoped not.

Lady Mag shrugged.

"Sorry dear. I have no advice for you when it comes to him. He might give you a hard time, but I'm sure he'll teach you eventually. I don't think he's too heartless."

The Drifter ran her hands down her top while sucking on her teeth.

"Well... Ah will juss hafta make him want to Ah gess... if ya don't mind that is?"

She arched a brow and looked up to Mag still unsure if those two were lovers or not. They sure acted like it sometimes.

Lady Mag's brows rose high upon her head at the girl's reassuring query. She blinked twice, and then she erupted into laughter.

"Me and that brute? Are you serious?"

She wiped a tear from her eye and stroked her fingers back through her hair.

"I just fucked him. We aren't together at all you crazy girl."

The Drifter blushed in what was inevitable embarrassment tonight and nodded.

"Wella... sorry 'bout that. Juss didn't know is all. Didn't want to be no homewrecker or nuthin' while usin' them 'skills' ya juss taught me. Ya think they will werk on 'em?"

She arched a brow at Mag.

Lady Mag smiled sheepishly at The Drifter when she asked her that.

"Uhm...you two don't seem to get along at all. I mean, he and I don't get along but you two together seem just as bad. I wouldn't try it if I were you, especially since you're a virgin. You don't put much honesty into it."

The Drifter rubbed at her eyes as it all became quite hopeless.

"Aright... well Ah will thank o' somethin'. Juss gotta use my head an' all."

Sighing again, she made a motioning gesture towards Mag.

"Thanks fer everythang tonight though. Yer a good person 'side from what a ferst thought o'ya."

She gave a small chuckle at the remembrance.

Lady Mag smiled and waved at her.

"You're not so much of an airhead either," she replied. "Well, I got some things to do. Ciao."

She headed off into the parking lot.