Dresses remind Dorothy of her time spent in a brothel. She prefers a simple shirt and man's trousers that she really does take some effort to keep clean, but inevitably it has a dirt mark or stain upon her outfit somewhere soon enough.
She doesn't sport much jewelry. Just a heavy belt buckle and a small copper pendant with two tiny emeralds embedded into it. This she usually keeps tucked beneath a scarf or under her shirt.
She wears a little too much eye makeup, darkening her brown eyes. Heavy rouge colors her freckled cheeks and pale complexion. Her lips she never paints. Even when they start to get a bit chapped in the winter, she dislikes having anything on them. Her blonde hair, well overdue for a trim, is often pulled into a pony tail or a braid that starts off neat but usually ends up falling loose beneath her brown and black hat that she wears like a shield, using it to hide her expression and emotions when her 'tough girl' persona starts to slip.
If she'll let you get close enough, she often smells of horses and whiskey with a small hint of mint
Around her hips she wears a pistol belt that contains her matching set of Smith & Wesson Schofield Revolvers.
Traits & Characteristics
Distrusting - People in general are not to be trusted. Overly friendly behavior is met with immediate suspicion.
Crude - often uses unladylike language.
Ashamed of her past - not the robberies... but the time spent as a Soiled Dove
World's oldest profession at Owen Donley's Brothel in Odessa, Texas
Outlaw in Robert Baker's gang of thieves, whose hideout was in New Mexico
Slight of hand - Picking pockets or stealing a bit of candy from the penny jars... she's gotten good at not being noticed.
Lying - she can look ya in the eye and twist the truth.
Horses - avg skill level. She was taught by Sparrow Hawk, so she tends to get on and off on the 'Indian' side.
Gunslinging - though she carries two Schofield revolvers and has gotten to be a fairly decent shot, Dorothy has never actually killed anybody, even if she'll let you believe otherwise.
Aliases / Nicknames
Dotty Jackson, Angel Baker
(1851-1869) Pittsburgh, PA
(1869-1872) Odessa, TX
(1872-1875) Little Blackwater, NM
Kith & Kin
Brother - James (1845 - 1869)
Sister - Emma (1847 - ? most likely alive, though Dorothy hasn't seen her in over 6 years.)
1851 - Born in Pittsburgh, PA as the youngest of 3 children. Her father mines coal. Her mother works as a seamstress.
1854 - Father dies during the Cholera outbreak and things declined from there when their mother had trouble coping both financially and emotionally, turning to alcohol way too often, leaving Dorothy's upbringing mostly to her two older siblings. With little guidance, the young girl found herself left to her own devices more often than not, which led to minor trouble and petty thievery.
1869 - Her older brother James, tired of the coal mines, decides to head west. Dorothy, barely 17 at the time, choose to go with him. The brother and sister spent the next six months traveling slowly west, both picking up odd jobs. When funds were low, they'd sometimes resort to less than scrupulous ways of making money. Which usually meant Dorothy offering her "services" for the night and then she and James robbing him of his valuables.
This caught up to them in Texas when they unknowingly intruded upon the territory of Owen Donley, who ran several established brothels in the area. When he caught wind of this, he sent several men to put a stop to it. Which meant a bullet for James. And Dorothy was immediately added to his collection of whores, where she spent the next 3 years. Until...
1872 - The notorious outlaw Robert Baker (a.k.a. "One-Eyed Bobby") and his crew stopped for a night of fun at Donley's brothel. Bobby took a shine to Dorothy and, despite a bit of protesting from Owen Donley, took her with him, where she became one of his crew.
Spring 1875 - The bandit crew robs a train in Texas, making off with a bank transfer.
Early summer 1875 - Bounty hunters catch up with the bandits in New Mexico. One Eyed Bobby is captured. The survivors scatter.
Robert Baker (a.k.a. One Eyed Bobby) - captured in New Mexico. Hung in Texas.
Sparrow Hawk - Navajo, Bobby's right hand man - shot and killed in New Mexico
Paul Smith (a.k.a Smitty) - status: unknown, wanted in Texas
David Goller (a.k.a Bones) - killed in New Mexico
Charles Goller - status: unknown, wanted in Texas
Freddy Linch (a.k.a. Flinch) - status: unknown, wanted in Texas
Dorothy Parsons (a.k.a Angel) - status: unknown, wanted in Texas
Dorothy is currently at a crossroads in life... with Bobby dead and the bandit gang scattered, she's scared enough to try walking the straight and narrow for awhile. But she could just as easily fall in with a different gang of low-life scum.
I enjoy using dice for anything combat related. It makes thing unpredictable and exciting, even if my characters end up injured.
It was a little strange being addressed as 'Anna' for the first time, but Dorothy went with it easily enough. "Good ta meet ya Doctor Boone..." she said, wiping a bit of stew off her lips with the back of her hand. She was surprised to see the doctor so soon, but glad enough that Case had decided to set her up with him even after their rocky start.
"I'm done..." she said, pushing away the now empty bowl that she'd downed in record time. "If ya don't mind too much, I'll walk up there with ya."
"Thanks for your help today," Dorothy said to Layton, managing to pause eating long enough to reply and gave him a grateful smile. Half of her stew was gone already, shoveled in more like a cowhand on the trail rather than a lady. Good table manners had never been drilled into her as a child and they'd only gotten worse living on the run with Bobby, Flinch and the rest of 'em.
"Don't worry none 'bout me," she said. "I'm sure I'll see you 'round, Mr. Harris."
He seemed the good sort, she thought. A real gentlemen, which was a rarity in her life. Maybe a rarity here in Whitefish too. But it seemed they wouldn't be working together much, if he was mainly expected to be at the ranch while she'd be at Case's beck and call doing who-knew-what.
She nodded to his parting warning about watching what she said around Case and his boys. "I'll try," she promised with a smile and shrug.
Well... he hadn't taken that at all the way she'd intended. Seemed offended almost, she thought. Strangely, she didn't get offended in return. Maybe it was because she'd been called much worse than a 'loose woman' before.
" 'course ... Mr. Steelgrave," she said, though her tone did not suggest she was apologetic for anything either.
Even though it was growing late in the day, it was indeed her breakfast and she started on the stew quickly when Case left, as if someone would take it off of her if she didn't eat it fast enough.
"He and his old man at odds on everything?" she asked to Harris in between bites. She'd liked Elias. Wasn't so sure about his son...
Dorothy wasn't quite sure what to make of Case's non-committal response about her (lack of) doctorin' skills. Maybe he wanted some time to think on it. That was fine. She didn't mind time to get settled before they put her to work.
She gave Case a sly smile when he asked about her pistols. It was almost disappointing that the test of skill hadn't happened, but she could give him a different demonstration. "Well," she began, letting the extra feminine tone come through that she knew men liked. It tended to put men off their guard and was a trick she'd learned early when she'd come west with James. That, combined with the pretty blue dress and the nicely combed blonde hair, a man might actually mistake her for just a sweet and naive young woman. "Won't claim I'm the best ever, Sugar, but I know how to use them and I'm better than most men would guess."
"Yeah," she answered eagerly. Worries of being hung could only push away the more immediate problems... like starving to death... for so long. "D'jeet yet?" she asked. Even after a few years out of Pennsylvania, the squashed together words still slipped out sometimes. But she didn't wait for an answer from Case before looking at the waitress. "Some kinda stew if ya got it? Not picky, long as it ain't too spicy..." she requested.
She looked slightly surprised at the mention of her working with the doc, though it pleased her at the same time. That was something actually respectable. And a far cry better than what she would have expected. "I ain't squeamish or nothing," she said, hoping to sell Case further on that idea. "Helped deliver a baby once too," she said, as if those two things alone somehow made her a qualified candidate for the job.
“So, I’ll trust you to come up with that name, one you like. Makes it easier to remember.”
"How about Anna, then?" She said, almost immediately. It had been the name of another girl, back at Donley's. One that Dorothy had started to consider a friend before she mixed herself up enough laudanum on Christmas day back in '71 that she didn't ever wake up again. An odd choice perhaps, but in some way she thought it might honor the girl that had helped her survive there.
"Anna Jackson... seems easy 'nuff to remember."
“The name sounds familiar. From my days in Texas.”
"I helped out him an' his boys," she said, circumventing the fact that she'd shared his bedroll as well, though that probably wasn't hard to guess. "Some cookin', some patchin' 'em up. Got pretty good with the horses too," she said. Then lowered her voice and leaned forward a bit to keep the next part from being overheard by any of the wait staff or other customers, "He robbed some Wells Fargo money in Texas and they got him not too long after in an ambush." She paused momentarily, her mouth tightening at the memory of the chaos that had been. Smitty had managed to get some of them the hell out of there, probably because the bounty hunters were only focused on Bobby and Sparrow.
"Didn't think the Pink would follow the rest 'a us this far. Guess they won't be happy til we're all hung."
"Dunno 'zactly what he knows," she said, brow furrowed in slight worry, and took the offered seat, slouching back a little, then sitting upright again. Acting ladylike required a conscious effort on her part. She didn't know what Case knew either. Maybe not quite as much as she'd thought if he was asking about her being a clerk. "Guess a new name wouldn't hurt 'til he's gone."
She met Case's eyes, trying to decide if he seemed like someone she was willing to trust her life to. Which, if she stayed here, was really what she'd be doing. At least by her way of thinking. And he couldn't help her with the warrant if he didn't have the whole story... well, most of it anyway.
"Ain't never had much of a real job 'fore," she said, seeing no need to mention the whorehouse. "You ever heard a Robert Baker? Some folks called him One-Eyed Bobby." While the name had gained some notoriety in Texas and New Mexico, she didn't know if anyone this far north would have heard of him.
Dorothy's eyes swept quickly over the marshal as they approached. The man was tall! He towered a full foot over her. And she thought he looked... rougher than his father. Not that that was a bad thing, of course. Bobby'd been about as rough as they came, after all.
She returned Case's smile with one of her own: any uneasiness she felt was carefully hidden away. She allowed him to take her hand as if she were a lady. It was rough, a bit calloused, various scratches adorned the skin and several of her cuticles were ripped ... nothing that wouldn't heal up in a few days or a week now that she wasn't lost in the wilderness. Her fingernails had been scrubbed clean in the bath earlier, but had needed to be cut very short to even them up again.
"Welcome to Whitefish, is there a first name to go with Jackson?"
"Thanks, Mr. Steelgrave. It's Dotty," she answered. Maybe he'd want her to change it to something more drastically different than her real name, but for now, she'd leave it there. It was hard enough getting used to 'Dotty'. It was not a nickname she'd ever gone by before the past few months.
"I'd still feel a bit better if it were Miss Jackson instead," she said. Despite Layton's claim that Case Steelgrave ran this town, and no doubt that he did based on what she'd seen and heard so far, she saw no reason to tempt the fates by letting everyone and their brother know exactly who she was. There was a ding Pinkerton on her tail after all. The less folks that knew, the less that could rat her out, intentionally or accidentally.
Or was it just that she didn't want the whole town to know she was a whore and a thief? Probably a bit of both.
When Layton offered her his arm, she hesitated only the briefest of moments before accepting and allowed him to escort her to the café, pushing down a small flutter of nerves. No doubt Case Steelgrave would have some questions of his own he'd want answered...
Sagas of the WIld West is a roleplaying game set in a fictionalized version of the town of Kalispell in Montana territory. Our stories begin in 1875 and are set against the backdrop of actual historical events.Sagas was inspired by the classic television and movie westerns. Our focus is on writing, storytelling and character development.
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