Jacob Lutz

ACTIVE-MOVED

Posts
146
Last visited
August 25, 2022
Player
Javia

About Jacob Lutz

Father to Be

Custom Fields

Playby
Jacob Lofland
Goes By
Jacob
Birth Date
09/17/1858
Height
5'11" and counting
Hair Color
Brown
Eye Color
Blue

Role

Supporting Character
Playby

Jacob Lofland
Full Name

Jacob Lukas Lutz
Goes By

Jacob
Profession

Farm Hand
Position

Homesteader
Birth Date

09/17/1858
Status

Single
Height

5'11" and counting
Hair Color

Brown
Eye Color

Blue
Physical Description

Lanky teen, his granny says that he just keeps "eatin an a-growin, growin an a-eatin"
Character Traits

Quiet but not shy, more of a doer than a talker or a thinker. His sisters taught him how to polka, his Granny taught him how to hunt and shoot, and the school of hard knocks taught him everything else, including how to stay on the top side of a horse. Raised out on the prairie, finds town a little clamorous and discombobulating - but worth it to see all the pretty girls, there.
Employment

Wanted to ride with a herd up from Cheyenne this year, but forced to go and stay at his Granny's place as her regular hand up and died of the miseries.
Expertise

The expected Hunting, Fishing, Riding, Shooting, but also can cook, sew and dance if the situation demands it, but not all at once. Oh, and plowing. Can that boy plow! And plant, and harvest and winnow and make up hay bales and saw and nail and file and mend and make and feed the livestock and milk the cow and paint the barn and string barbed wire fences and, well, everything that Granny needs doing.
Residence(s)

Granny Miggins' homestead.
Kith & Kin

Two sisters, Leonora and Josephina, and a host of other kin from the vast Miggins progeny. His father, Ernest Lutz passed over to the other side in an incident where he fell through a trapdoor, his mother died of the diphtheria a long time past and he was mostly brought up by his Grandmother and sisters and uncles and aunts.
Timeline

Born Jacob Lukas Lutz, 17th September 1858 in Council Bluffs, Iowa to Ernst and Geraldine Lutz (nee Miggins)

Ernest was born Ernst Jakob Lütze in Karlsruhe, Germany in the late 1830s.

Topics I Participated In

The End of the Trail

Started by Scrappy Craddock · May 26, 2022

Rating: PG-14 Content: N/A ABANDONED THREAD - MOVE TO CORRECT FORUM AFTER MOVING TO NEW SITE. GOES IN ABANDONED THREADS FORUM.

Mature Content: Probably not, some bad language.
With: Jess Matthews
Location: The Long Branch Saloon, Dodge City, Kansas
When: Late August, 1876
Time of Day: Afternoon

"That's it, Jess, I'm gettin' tired of cowography! I'm gonna find a nice little girl, get a nice steady job and settle down someplace... nice!"

Clem Craddock, known to his friends as 'Scrappy' (more from the amount of fights he seemed to get into, than his ability to win them), could hardly be blamed: this had been the toughest cattle drive of his life: the Boss had been nearly as surly as the herd, and as likely to stampede at the slightest provocation. Rivers had been swollen beyond crossing (they'd lost one man that way) or creeks they relied upon to water the doggies were completely dried up. Rustlers, Indians, rival cowboys whose herds had mixed with theirs, touchy townsfolk, farmers with their confounded barbwire fences, outlaws: they'd had falling outs with all of them. And one particular ornery muley - well that hornless steer just about had it in for Scrappy - from the minute the Mexican 'Corporal ' had delivered the herd to them over the border to the time the Boss had paid them off in Dodge, about fifteen minutes ago.

Dodge City, Kansas - the latest and greatest cattle entrepot. Jess and Scrappy's crew had always delivered to Wichita before now, but the growth of farm lands around that railhead made the place unviable now. Dodge was the place to be, and the place to be in Dodge was the Long Branch Bar.

As Scrappy slammed down his cash on the bar and ordered two fingers of red-eye each for himself and his pard, he sighed somewhat wistfully. "Boy, just think of it, a feller like me that never had no family to speak of, settling down, and getting a nice family started, just like yours. You've sure painted a nice picture of family life for me, Jess: I can picture them now, just back from church: the dear old father, proudly beaming down on his happy brood: his noble upright sons, his pretty little daughter, and there in the background, the idol of them all, the sweet mother of the family, serving up their Sunday roast..."

"Hey, you!" a female voice broke Clem from his reverie.

"Jesus Christ, Wichita Lou?! What in the name of hell are you doing here?!!" he gaped.

"I go where the cowboys go" the brassy looking blonde replied. "Crappy Craddock isn't it?" she asked, and looked at Jess "Your friend's called Matthews isn't he?"

"Scrappy, actually and yes, this here's Jess Matthews." the short cowpoke replied, frowning quizzically at his partner while the woman disappeared someplace and came back. "They left this telegram here for you, couple weeks ago now." she said and handed it to Jess.

It was from an old Kalispell school friend of the taller man and read:

Jess, Yr Mother very ill. Outlook bad. Come soon if you can. Yrs Hector W.

"Good news?" asked Wichita Lou, adjusting her cleavage - maybe the feller had come into money! - while his friend looked on with a concerned look on his face.

Wichita Lou

@MD
The Ghastly Smile of the Dead

Started by Jacob Lutz · March 7, 2022

Mature Content: Yes. Not nice.
With: Jacob Lutz, Captain Barlow, Ke-Ni-Tay, MacIntosh
Location: Somewhere between Kalispell and Helena
When: Month 29th August, 1876
Time of Day: 3.20pm

Peloponnese was a good girl and always did what was asked of her. The piebald mare was never 'marish', even when she was in season, always obedient, and she had gotten him out of trouble too many times to count by her amazing equine bravery for, by his own admission, she was far more courageous than her rider. But this was the second time she had shied today.

"Where you going?! No!" The splodgy black and white four-year old had pulled short on the trail, backed up, nearly done a pirouette like a performing gee gee in a circus, or those fancy white dancing horses he'd read about in Vienna, and was now happily trotting off at a 90 degree angle across the prairie with her rider turning in the saddle trying to discern what on earth had spooked his normally steady mount.

"Hey, you don't fool me!" Jacob yelped, and turned her back onto the trail using spur, rein, and slapped croup. He was suddenly worried, though: Peloponnese wasn't just braver than him, he had come to realise, she was also a good deal wiser, and she wouldn't have baulked for nothing. Human will overcame horse-sense, and he pushed her forward, looking ahead: he could see nothing untoward, but he unfastened his rifle holster and drew out the Henry anyway. Peloponnese knew what that meant and he had to find a spare hand from somewhere to rub her withers and shush her whinnying. "I know, I know" he gently cooed as they moved forward, at a walking pace now.

Give the animal her due, she had detected the scent a good couple of miles and a long walk away and it was a good long time before he saw it: some sort of low flat wagon with an awful lot of crows and turkey vultures perched on top. Every now and again one or two would jump down to the ground, and there would be a flurry of feather and a couple of the birds would fly up and then settle back down to try and spot a vacant spot at the feast. Jacob felt a little dizzy all of a sudden and was aware of the blood hissing in his ears. "Steady, now, steady" he called softly to Peloponnese, but it was himself he was trying to calm not her.

He looked around. Nothing. No sound. Nowhere for anyone to hide. No. There was always somewhere for Indians to hide. He would have to trust to his and his horse's senses. He dismounted and led his horse forward, rifle held in his other hand. The crows scattered, but the turkey vultures were made of sturdier stuff and had to be actually shoed away from... from what? It took him a good few seconds to work out exactly what he was looking at.

They had been men, once. Long, white and skinny looking these corpses were: their faces and hands and arms sunburned though and bodies and faces already starting to swell in the heat. There were black patches of beard and body hair which intertwined with dark black-red areas of wounds: some almost random looking stab and gunshot holes others more deliberate, all of them attracting great shiny flies with their stench. Both men, soldiers by the look of the discarded pieces of clothing strewn about, had been carefully mutilated. He could only hope that this had been done after death. The breeze wafted a sickly sweet stench his way and it was then that he was violently sick.

He didn't want to look again, he wanted to run. He wanted to get on his horse and ride and forget he had ever come across the scene. But he couldn't: he looked again, deliberately noting what he saw in his mind. Each man carried a long vertical slash to his thigh -bone deep, the femurs peeping white in the afternoon sun. The genitals were missing, which made him wince on the dead men's behalf, an ugly blood-black patch remained: mute testimony to their emasculation in the afterlife. And the throats were sliced ear to ear, the starkly scalped heads lolling back producing enormous ghastly and grotesque smiles of death. The missing eyes of the men... he didn't know if that was a deliberate act or merely the handywork of the turkey vultures, but what he saw in the mouths of the dead men, and which made him vomit once more, was definitely the work of savage human hands.

He staggered to his horse's side and held on to her, steadying himself, breathing. He took a swig of water from his canteen, and eventually felt strong enough to clamber back into the saddle. He took one last look at the scene. It was almost familiar to him now. The carrion crows and vultures looked at him impatiently: he knew he would have to describe all of this to someone at the fort. The worst part... he couldn't go there straight away.

Because of what had happened this morning, because of the person who had made Peloponnese shy as they had set out on this misbegotten trip, he was going to have to go on further down the trail first... just to be sure.

[To Be Continued]
Yours Sincerely

Started by Hector Wigfall · November 17, 2021

Mature Content: No
With: Henry S. Guyer II & Hector Wigfall, +
Location: Marshal's Office
When: Mid July, 1876
Time of Day: Late Afternoon

The roly-poly message delivery boy, Roland, had knocked off for the day and Hector's shift was coming to a close, so he decided to deliver these last three messages himself. He'd take the two for the Marshal first and then drop by the diner at closing up time with the telegram for Clara Lutz: with any luck, his friend's wife might have some left-over pie going begging.

He strode jauntily along the sidewalk, whistling Nancy Dill with a bird-like trill, and entered Henry Guyer's office with a perfunctory knock and a wave of the telegrams. "Afternoon, Marshal. Couple o' Telegrams!" He whipped out a receipt book and pencil, handing over both that and the two distinctive folded pieces of paper, upon which the words that had crossed the country in electric dots and dashes had been decoded and spelled out in full by his own fair hand.

"Funny to think of Mr Pike and Mrs Blakesley all that way away in Portland, huh?" he wondered aloud, while the town's lawman signed for the telegrams.

His eyes flicked with interest to the Marshall: he didn't expect there would be much of a reaction to Speed Pike's humdrum missive of far away greeting. The other one, though, that was a different matter.

@Flip
A New Broom Sweeps Clean or The Littered House on the Prairie

Started by Jemima Wigfall · July 10, 2021

Rating: PG-14 Content: N/A Mature Content: No, but unpleasant scenes of domestic cleaning activities.
Author: Jemima Wigfall.
With: Clara Lutz; Miriam Kaufmann; Arabella Mudd.
Location: Shack on the Miggins Homestead.
When: Later June 1876 (after Clara and Jacob's wedding)
Time of Day: Around 11am.

How did she do it? How DID she do it?

As she pulled Bridget Monahan's little pony and trap up to the doorway of the Shack that Granny Miggins had pointed out to them, a good mile away from the main house and half hidden by bushes and trees, Jemima twisted around and looked at Miriam and Arabella lolling around in the rear of the small vehicle with their legs dangling over the back ("We've gotta sit in the back while you drive the pony cause Miriam gets sick otherwise"). All the cleaning equipment and the nice food they'd brought with them, and Jemima's gun, were piled up on the front seat next to her.

How did she do it?

One) Arabella had persuaded her own employers and Mr. Pettigrew that it was URGENT that they, all three, be given the day off so they could go and help out a young newly married girl who was 'on the point of nervous collapse' trying to turn a wreck of a shack into a family home.

Two) Arabella had persuaded that big soppy scardy-cat Miriam to leave the safe confines of Kalispell and risk the 'Injun Infested' journey to the Miggins place to help. "Don't worry, 'Mima'll protect us, and if there's too many Injuns to kill, she said she'll save the last three bullets for us so as we can blow our brains out: and don't worry you won't be brave enough, cause I don't mind blowin' yours out for ya, 'fore I do mine!"

Three) Arabella had persuaded Miriam's parents, whom, after one visit she now familiarly referred to as Papa and Mama, to allow her to go ('Such a pretty, clever girl our Miriam has now for a friend yet! And this crack-shot Jemima? Such a wonder!")

Four) Arabella had convinced Bridget to lend them her pony and trap despite wanting desperately to go along on the jaunt herself. "But Bridget, there ain't no room fer you, and 'sides, you bein' a cripple, you wouldn't be any help at all!" she had explained sensitively.

Five) Somehow Arabella had persuaded HER to waste a day helping out the woman who had stolen her man... sorta.

She was woken from her reverie by the sound of the mouthy Southerner banging on the shack's front door (only door actually) somewhat gingerly: it looked like it might splinter if she knocked too hard. "Clara? Clara? ... CLARA!!!"

She made up vocally for the quietness of the knocks.

@Wayfarer
Married, Yes.... So Now What?

Started by Clara Redmond Lutz · July 1, 2021

Mature Content: No
With: List characters and NPCs in the thread.
Location: Clara and Jacob Lutz
When: June 1876
Time of Day: Late night, early morning right after the wedding

The bed wasn't large but there had been enough room for the newly married couple to enjoy their first married night together. And they took full advantage of it too. It had been heaven, while it lasted, even though a part of her worried their wildness might actually pave the way later not to heaven but the hot place. She had enjoyed it all so much, well it probably couldn't be proper. Still, if anyone would have asked her if she had regrets or even better, would she have chosen differently if my some miracle the pair of them were back next to the lake that first time and just about to make love. No, she would not have changed a thing.

Now as they lay entwined in each other arms, cleaned up but still naked, it was just peaceful and she felt so contented. They didn't even talk for a bit, Jacob probably felt the same. However, tomorrow they would have to wake up to a completely different life than before. And there was so much to deal with and it had to start sometime with a good (and probably difficult) discussion . Ever the realist, Clara decided to begin now.

"Jacob, now what? I hate to bring this up but.............well, my father and brother will want their home back and we need to come up with living quarters for...well...tomorrow night. We have so much we need to do, plan....I think we should talk about it...now. Do you not agree?"
The Reception

Started by Clara Redmond Lutz · May 28, 2021

Rating: PG-14 Content: N/A Mature Content: No
With: Same cast as the wedding one.
Location: Redmond Farm
When: Same day as the wedding (June 1876)
Time of Day: Late afternoon

Well, she was a married woman, Clara let that sink in yet again even as she changed out of that lovely blue dress she had been married in, Emeline's gift to her, something she would always treasure too. But ever the practical one, she now changed into a more appropriate work dress because it was on her to feed the arriving guests as they pulled up to the Redmond property in buggies or riding horses. She was going to have to feed a good dozen folks and was a bit apprehensive at the responsibility too. Not that she didn't know how to cook, she had been doing that regularly since her mother died. No, she worried if she would have enough for all the guests.

In the oven was a ham, her father had bought it just the day before, he called it a 'large ham', it was a HUGE one but that was a good thing what with this many mouths to feed. Last night she had baked two full baskets of corn bread dodgers to provide the bread. While she did not dare ask Emeline for such (what with all the woman did for her) she hoped her employer might just bring a baked loaf or two of bread. Emeline was already providing the wedding cake and Clara was excited to see what she had done with it, Emeline was such a good baker.

As side dishes she had made a large batch of beans with molasses and flavored with some bacon tossed it too then some cooked carrots with honey, opened a jar of pickles, also a plate of pickled eggs she had gotten from the general store. Dessert would have to be the wedding cake, god, she hoped it was large enough to allow everyone a slice at least. She would make it a point to tell Jacob to cut the slices thin if necessary.

Last night she had brought out all the plates and dishware the family owned and washed them, ditto with the silverware. Another issue she could not fix was the fact their dining table in the farm was a small square thing, big enough of course for her father, Wyatt, and her but not going to seat this many guests. Her father came to the rescue by setting up two saw horses and placing a wide plank between them. Even using some barrels they just did not have enough chairs to seat everybody though. Some would have to stand or eat in shifts. Too late Clara realized it would have been smarter to have the dinner at the Lick Skillet! Live and learn.

Now suitably garbed (more for a work day than a party) the young brunette proceeded to the kitchen to do the last minute tasks which awaited her culinary event.

***

Wyatt had convinced his father to let him pound a few stakes into the ground and hopefully he could entice some of the guests to play some horseshoes. At least they could have a little fun at this boring affair.

***
Aurelian was not much of a drinker, well he had been as a young man but gave it up for assuming the reponsiblity of being a proper family man. But there had to be some sort of alcoholic beverage to do up toasts for the bridge and groom, to drink to their future so right after the wedding he had duly marched over to the saloon to try for a purchase of a bottle of some sort of wine. The bartender mentioned they had champagne in the back, the cost proved prohibitive though so Aurelian had to decline. That's when the man realized this was the wedding Arabella Mudd was attending, she had been given the day and evening off for it. As a goodwill gesture, he simply handed over a bottle of the champagne and said it was a wedding gift for the young couple. Aurelian gratefully accepted.

There would be coffee and tea provided too for the dinner, with fresh cream if anyone so desired.

Chased out of the kitchen by a harried Clara, Aurelian now stood outside to greet the attendees as they arrived. He had even resolved to tolerate Granny Miggins and hope for the very best.
With This Ring

Started by Hector Wigfall · May 18, 2021

Mature Content: No.
Author: Hector Wigfall.
With: Clara Redmond & Family, Jacob Lutz & Family and friends.
Location: The Church.
When: Early June 1876.
Time of Day: Five Past One in the Afternoon.

Hector Lupin Wigfall considered it all again for a moment. Some mere fifteen hours ago – fifteen – he had been sitting quite happily in the front parlour, reading The Telegrapher journal (good article on the Baudot code) and now he was standing here in church, of all the God damn places, in his best suit, acting as Best Man to a kid he’d hated at school and hadn’t actually seen much of since. The only time Lutz had entered his orbit was all those times he’d come round to see his horrible sister … whatever that was all about.

He shuddered.

No sign of the Bride’s party yet. Late! God damn rude he called it. Groom’s side of the church were here but looked like a pretty ropy lot, item: his own sister, looking a sight and still putting the finishing touches to Lutz. She’d been up all night taking in one of their father’s suits and when the husband-to-be had come round to the Wigfall place to get into it this morning, his gruesome twin had given the beanpole a shave and a haircut! Hector wouldn’t let that crazy fruitcake anywhere near HIS windpipe with a cut-throat razor.

Then there was the Groom himself, the lanky drip, probably looking the best he ever would in his life, thanks to Jemima’s ministrations. Granny Miggins, the dried up old Mummy, rubbing her finger like she been sticking it somewhere it shouldn’t oughta been stuck … and got it stuck. Then Lutz’s big sister, Leonora. She was actually a nice bit of real estate, but given to fainting fits, apparently. Mind you, having an attractive and unconscious female in his company might not be such a bad thing.

Then there was that ginger piece, Bridget something. Not bad but only one leg – ugh!

He pulled out his hunter and flipped the lid. ‘Bride’s prerogative’ and all that but what the Hell?! Father Thomas didn’t look concerned. Hector drifted over to him.

“So, Father, how long are we going to give it until we call it a day and head for the saloon?” he asked with an unsuitable air of levity.

@boshmi
An Official Visit

Started by Clara Redmond Lutz · March 21, 2021

Rating: PG-14 Content: N/A Mature Content: Only in words not actions
With: Clara, Jacob and Lorena Lutz, Granny Miggins
Location: Miggins Farm
When: Early June, 1876 (before Clara and Jacob's wedding)
Time of Day: Mid afternoon

When her father had suddenly informed her that if she wanted to see Jacob more often, he would agree but those times needed to be chaperoned. Clara was stunned and not happy about it, least at first. But then she thought she would at least be able to see and talk with Jacob more often. But the lack of privacy....well, lest she get too upset, she had to admit her father and Lenora Lutz had legitimate reasons to for this decision. Thing is it was too late! They had shut the barn door after all the horses were out of the barn! But she could hardly protest that to her father so she meekly agreed to the new conditions.

Now this afternoon, the girl was going to visit the Miggins place for the very first time. She was of course delighted to see Jacob, but this also meant she would be formally introduced to Jacob's older sister and far far scarier, none other than Granny Miggins who had a town wide reputation as .........anyhow might be charitable to just say 'formidable'.

Aurelian had driven her there in the family wagon but informed the girl he was not even going to get off the vehicle but instead ride off and pick her up four hours from now. He told her to tell the Lutzs and Miggins that he was really busy and needed to get to town. He confided in his daughter though that the real reason was he wanted nothing to do with Granny! Clara understood. Honestly she felt the same way but this was going to be unavoidable in her case. Hopefully Jacob would protect her.

Dressed in a clean sober colored brown dress with shoes cleaned and wearing a head covering as polite society expected, the girl then approached the front door of the place and knocked.
Here Endeth the Lesson

Started by Leonora Lutz · March 13, 2021

Mature Content: For the love of God. let us hope not!
Author: Leonora Lutz.
With: Redmonds, Lutz, any other Church-going folk.
Location: Kalispell Methodist (Community) Church. (open to all denominations)
When: Mid 1876
Time of Day: End of Sunday Morning Service.

It had been a long, long time since she had been in this situation.

Standing in a dour, serious Church service, absolutely dying to burst out laughing. She tried everything: biting her lip, digging her nails into the palms of her hands, thinking of the saddest most pitiable things that she could imagine. It was not helping. She could only hope that anybody spotting the tears rolling down her cheeks would suppose that they were caused by some sort of divine rapture, rather than the hilarious noise coming from the harmonium as they all sang number 528 on the board, “Nearer my God to Thee”. She somehow felt sure that the strange skinny teenage girl playing the battered, foot pumped, keyboard instrument was doing it on purpose, the one Jacob had described to her, in her sickbed as “The Reb”, making sure that in the interludes between the verses, she played a particular deep, faulty note on the thing that sounded for all the world like someone breaking wind. And not just a polite whispery one; a full bodied, underwear-destroying RASP!

By some miracle of the aforementioned deity, Lee got to the end of the hymn without shrieking with laughter at the funny sound. The amazing thing was nobody else seemed to notice it! Was it just her? Maybe she was irreligious. She’d certainly come close enough in the last year to making it to the Pearly Gates and finding out if the elevator ride was Up or Down. Now she felt so much better. She’d put on weight, as well. Too much weight, her Grandmother said! Her heart would always be weak, but what did they say? ‘Cracked pots last longest’ - so she might be around for a few years yet for all her 25 years.

Since last she’d been well enough to be in Church there were many new faces, many old ones gone. Two new ones she guessed at, as they all filed out of the church, shaking hands with Pastor Evans. She nudged Jacob as he took her arm in support.

“Is that her? The famous Clara?” she asked him, a twinkle in her eye. “And her Father, I suppose?”

“Uh-huh.” Nodded Jacob, at his most taciturn. But his neutral face changed to horror as she let go his arm and rushed forward to catch up to the tall, dark haired man with the neat Napoleon, walking out of church with his beautiful dark eyed daughter.

“Oh, is it Mister Redmond?” she asked precipitously “Mister Aurelian Redmond?” she specified, looking up at him with those enormously round blue eyes.

@Wayfarer
Clara Has a Caller

Started by Clara Redmond Lutz · February 11, 2021

Rating: PG-14 Content: N/A Next Day (Following Just the Two of Us thread - Early May 1876)
Morning

Clara was in such a good mood as she swept whatever little dirt she had found out the front door of their cabin. The weather was bright and sunny, warm, even warmer than usual but nothing wrong with that. Her father had departed a some time ago and reminded her he would probably not be home until evening as he and Mr. Coltrane were determined to make some real progress on those stubborn stumps. She did not envy him the hard work that took to pry the stumps with their deep root systems out of unyielding ground. She had a point of stressing he should take his time and not worry about the farm, she would take care of everything necessary. She had indeed already milked the cow and feed and watered the horses and chickens.
As for her little brother, Wyatt was off at school, the boy had made a new friend with some orphan lad at the dance and it seemed to have improved his mood about school then too. Not that Wyatt would ever be a diligent student, he just did not have the interest.

But anyhow, all that aside Clara was in such an upbeat mood because Jacob Lutz was coming to visit her in response to her invitation the day before. Yes, she realized that proper decorum stated a young lady should not have a young man in her company without an escort. But that was in civilization, back East, this was the frontier and things were different (or so she rationalized).

Perhaps one of the biggest reasons the girl was spending so much time sweeping by the front doorstep was because she was watching for HIS imminent arrival.