Jump to content

Announcements

  • Recently Browsing

    No registered users viewing this page.


  • Recently Used Characters

  • Posts

    • “Hotel’s over there!” she pointed in the general direction of the Belle-St. Regis before folding her arms and frowning .    "I know, I can read signs, child," Caroline smirked.   Child?! Hmph!   “You can read?” asked Arabella, sounding surprised. But the woman dodged the potgirl with all the skill of a Yale football player, and  had moved toward Mr Flandry at the bar.   Arabella gave a hard stare at all of the fellers staring at this up-town fancy girl, some of them looked like they’d about twist their own heads off, the way they were craning their necks around. Arabella waved her hands at them, teacher like, to indicate that they should get back to their drinks and cards, and followed after the interloper.   "Excuse me, mister but is the owner of this fine establishment present? I am eager to tell her the good news," she smiled confidently.   Ralph paused then replied, "She is upstairs. Good news you say, miss?"    "Oh indeed, I can't wait to meet her. Her search for an entertainer is over. I'm here! " Caroline announced.    Ralph had to break into a bit of a smile himself at this bubbly and bold young woman, "You don't say? And you would be....?"    "I am Caroline....Caroline Mundee, and if I wasn't so modest I would add 'simply the finest saloon singer west of the Mississippi.' And if you don't believe me, you will once you hear me sing."   There wasn’t much room between Caroline and the bar, but Arabella managed to somehow sidle into it and get between the hussy and poor innocent Ralph, who, not seeming to have much to do with women, in her opinion, might be taken in by this painted lady.   “Not today, thank you!” she announced brightly. “We already have an entertainer, and that’s called me!” she told Caroline, jerking a thumb at her flat chest. “Singin’, Dancin’, Piannerin’ Cartwheels and telling funny jokes. And also, I’m an orphan, so the management don’t have to pay me one red cent!” she explained. "You look kinda pricy!"   “But don’t give up.” she continued, in mock helpful tones “There’s a town called Whitefish, just down the road, I hear the saloon there is looking for some…” she looked the curvaceous bimbo up and down “… ‘ singers'.”   Then she turned and shook a warning head vigorously at Mr. Flandry, as if to say Don’t be tempted by the pleasures of the flesh my son, even if there is a good deal of it on show!   But he wasn’t even looking at Arabella, he was staring at the demi-monde, polishing the same glass, with a stupid silly grin on his bearded face the like of which she’d never seen before. Maybe this entertainer did hypnotism, too, she thought; that’d explain it.  
    • "No judgin' our stories," Addy commented, "we all got our different experiences, an' reckon livin' in a saloon was...eclectic...lots'a interestin' characters, I reckon, give ya a chance ta learn different ideas."  She shrugged, chuckling.  "Most folks just hunker down in their house, go ta th' same church with th' same people, see th' same folks in town, then when they step out, it's a surprise ta them."    So many people, in her experience, never ventured more than a few miles beyond their home, not sought out experiences or people outside of their small circle.  But even if Miz Caroline hadn't been much past her saloon, the people coming and going likely provided a good array of experiences.    "I'd not be able ta sleep with all th' noise, though," she added, "one thing listenin' ta horses munchin' an' stompin' now an' then, but shoutin' an' chairs movin' an' boots stompin'...that'd keep me awake all night!"   @Wayfarer
    • [Clara and Jacob, under the Moon]   "Roughing It? I will remember that if ever I should spot it someplace," Clara declared. Then at his mention of her employer she had an idea.    Jacob shrugged. “Well, we might have very different tastes, but I don’t think you know if you’ll like something unless you try it one time.” He was presumably talking about literature.   "Say, I will ask her if she would mind if you borrow a few of her books, that is if you interested. I am quite confident she would not refuse, she is most generous that way. Just make sure you are responsible enough to return them once you have finished them."   The rustic lad shook his head almost dolefully. “No need to worry there, I do hate to borrow anything.” He revealed. “Be it as small as a tack, it sort of weighs heavy on my soul until it’s returned to its rightful owner. It’s like old adage: ‘Never a lender nor borrower be’. I’ll never be a debtor if I can help it, that’s one good thing.” The very idea of being in debt seemed to revolt his very soul. “New books to read are the one exception, that’s the one forbidden fruit that I’m tempted enough to borrow.”   His early listing of activities sounded very much like some typical boy, Wyatt would approve of any of them. Well, until he got to the part about being enthralled by staring up into the stars.  And he expressed it quite elegantly too.   "Well said, Jacob," she sincerely complimented him.    He shook his head a little in surprise at the compliment. When you talked about something as beautiful as the night sky, or the majestic scenery of Northern Montana, or a girl like Clara Redmond, well, it was hard not to wax poetical.   "So, Jacob Lutz, a poet? You are quite the unique young fellow I must say. Although it does seem rather a waste of time and effort if you simply destroy them rather than share with a reader. Perhaps they are quite good, people might just enjoy them?"   He frowned a little at that idea. “I doubt that. And I certainly wouldn't enjoy anyone reading them. It’d be like …” he searched for a suitable embarrassing simile “… being stripped naked and paraded down Main Street!” He smiled at that. “No, I think the hogs enjoy them more than any potential reader of the things, anyway.”   "Well, we do not have hogs although Father has expressed an interest someday in purchasing a few. And no, I have never attempted to write poetry. I do not think I would be very good at it anyhow. Although...."she paused then continued, "I would someday like to read at least one of yours. Perhaps you might wrote a poem about me? I would be honored of course."   “What makes you think that I haven’t already?” he grinned sheepishly, before adding “I didn’t feed those ones to the hogs. I can assure you. Mind you, though, they’re pretty well hid!”   He quickly moved on from the subject, feeling a little exposed.   “And how about you, Clara?  I know that you like to read, too. But, well, if you had a whole day off of work, how would you spend it?” he asked by way of enquiry about her pastimes.   @Wayfarer
    • Caroline took in the place, noting the long bar with a not to be scoffed at selection of bottled liquors displayed on the shelves behind it then the dozen or so tables scattered about.  Ahh yes, and even more crucial at least regarding her future employment, there was a piano in the far corner and a small stage too. Perfect! She liked it already.   Now there were a few customers within. At one table two old men were playing cards, half drained beer glasses keeping them company as they studied their cards. Another man, a cowpoke, leaned up against the bar, conversing with a bearded bartender. Could that be Mr.....Mr...Flandry, yes she was pretty sure that was the name. As for the woman owner, no woman was currently in sight.   Not quite true, there was a girl now eying her, she had paused in scrubbing the floor. At least the business tried to keep their place cleaner than some joints she had been in.  The young missie did not look pleased for some reason.   “Hotel’s over there!” she pointed in the general direction of the Belle-St. Regis before folding her arms and frowning .   "I know, I can read signs, child," Caroline smirked.   She then turned to address the bartender who by then was aware of her presence as apparently were all the men in the place. She was used to be gawked it, didn't bother her none.   "Excuse me, mister but is the owner of this fine establishment present? I am eager to tell her the good news," she smiled confidently.     Ralph paused then replied, "She is upstairs. Good news you say, miss?"   "Oh indeed, I can't wait to meet her. Her search for an entertainer is over. I'm here! " Caroline announced.   Ralph had to break into a bit of a smile himself at this bubbly and bold young woman, "You don't say? And you would be....?"   "I am Caroline....Caroline Mundee, and if I wasn't so modest I would add 'simply the finest saloon singer west of the Mississippi.' And if you don't believe me, you will once you hear me sing."  
    • [Clara and Jacob, under the Moon]   The boy certainly seemed quite sincere and enthusiastic about books and reading. Clara was impressed. It also proved something. City folk sometimes seemed to think farm people were ignorant rustics and she never liked that attitude.   "Roughing It? I will remember that if ever I should spot it someplace," Clara declared. Then at his mention of her employer she had an idea.   "Say, I will ask her if she would mind if you borrow a few of her books, that is if you interested. I am quite confident she would not refuse, she is most generous that way. Just make sure you are responsible enough to return them once you have finished them."   Clara of course had been diligent and punctual about a quick turnaround when she borrowed volumes from the kindly woman.   She then inquired about the sort of things he did for what bits of leisure time he might have between farm work, fun activities as it were. Yes, even she had occasions where she indulged in a bit of fun. Life did not have to be all work.   His early listing of activities sounded very much like some typical boy, Wyatt would approve of any of them. Well, until he got to the part about being enthralled by staring up into the stars.  And he expressed it quite elegantly too.   "Well said, Jacob," she sincerely complimented him.   But then he added a revelation she would never have guessed. Poetry. He wrote poetry?! At first it sounded hard to believe but on second thought what with all his love of books and his suprisingly impressive way of speaking, it did make sense.   "So, Jacob Lutz, a poet? You are quite the unique young fellow I must say. Although it does seem rather a waste of time and effort if you simply destroy them rather than share with a reader. Perhaps they are quite good, people might just enjoy them?"   The reality was, in fact she had declared such to Miss Emeline when they discussed books and yes, poetry, that she personally did not like poetry. It seemed foolish and held no interest for her. Still, she was not about to admit that to Jacob. In this particular case just MAYBE, she might peruse his work and approve.  Now her own favorite pastime, though granted she seldom got to do it, now seemed much more mundane. She liked to swim in the small lake just off their farm property. Nothing was more refreshing after a stretch of hard labor on a hot summer day.   "Well, we do not have hogs although Father has expressed an interest someday in purchasing a few. And no, I have never attempted to write poetry. I do not think I would be very good at it anyhow. Although...."she paused then continued, "I would someday like to read at least one of yours. Perhaps you might wrote a poem about me? I would be honored of course."        
The Old Ranger

The Streets of Kalispell

Recommended Posts

Posted (edited)

 Mature Content: Yes, violence

With: Several Main characters and Marley Gang NPCs.
Location: The Bank, Various locations possible
When: Monday, April / 24th / 1876
Time of Day: Morning.

 

content-divider.png

 

For most in the town of Kalispell it was a pleasant spring morning, not a cloud in the sky. Wagons, buckboards and horses with riders traversed the main street, some stopping here and there along the way. Folks going and coming from the local shops and businesses on either side of the hard packed street, stopping now and again to chat about last evenings dance.
 

Horses standing three legged at the hitch rails, tail swishing back and forth to shoo the ever present flies that tormented them. A nice day, quiet for the most part, not counting the trace chains rattling, and the clip clop of the animals. The murmur of conversations barely audible unless one was a party to them.


Town Marshal, Speed Guyer sat at his desk with a cup of coffee, reading the latest edition of the Union. Bernie Clayton was sleeping it off in the cell block. Deputy Marshall Pronto Pike was on his way back from the Lickskillet Café where he’d had a late breakfast with his betrothed, Emeline Blakesley, which he regularly did on days he wasn’t washing dishes but working for the town.


Loitering outside the Stardust Saloon were four men who seemed to be talking and looking about the town. Pronto shook his head and strode across the street to the Municipal Building where the Marshal’s Office was located. There was something about the men at the Stardust that stayed with him. That they were in dusters was not unusual as it was spring round up, and men were looking to catch on with outfits conducting their spring round ups, he thought he would mention them to Speed, just the same.


The four riders were not riding the grub line, looking for work, hardly. They were members of the Marley gang and on this mornings agenda was the bank and it’s contents.


Bill Marley was across the street loitering at the bank, or so it appeared, he was actually casing the place. Seeing who was doing what, where the safe was, and how the teller was handling the cash that crossed his window. At the saloon stood his brother Dade, plus Cole Simpson, Arty Nelson, and Kid Carlisle, waiting for Bill to enter the bank, which was the signal. Two would momentarily cross the street and two would walk up the boardwalk.


At that moment, as Allie Jeffers came out of the bank, Bill touched the brim his hat to her and entered.

 

image.jpeg.4fbe2bc12d51a91fbfceadb27468b2e4.jpeg

      Bill                 Dade                      Nelson                       Simpson                    Kid Carlisle

TBC

 

.

Edited by Flip (see edit history)

Share this post


Link to post
Posted (edited)

Before Marley could get inside, Emeline Blakesly stepped toward the door and Bill naturally stepped back to allow her inside, just as his gang closed the gap between him and them, not the way he had planned it, but the way it turned out. So much for planning, at least that part of the heist. He looked to Kid Carlisle who took up a post near the doorway, casually scanning the street. He made sure that the horses were at the hitch rail closest to the bank, ans, after a glance toward the window he would ease over to the horses and untie them, holding them for the others.

 

It seemed as if everything was going according to plan, the woman and another man at the window were the only people inside other than the bank employees and staff. He had been reading a piece of paper and as he turned he made like he was putting it in his inside pocket, but in actuality, he was pulling his gun as were his compatriots.

 

“This is a hold up!” He bellowed. “Do what yer told when yer told, nobody get’s hurt!”

 

Dade, with a wide smile ,stepped to the window, pushing the woman out of the way while holding out a bag and saying, “Fill ‘er up, sonny.” But the shove was just enough on Emeline to jar John Olson who bolted out the open door before Cole or Arty could react, being on the wrong side of Bill.

 

John rushed into the street hollering at the top of his lungs, “THEY’RE ROBBING THE BANK BOYS!”

 

Carlisle drew his pistol as the nearest mount stepped side ways in his way, and John was able to shout his warning again. The Kid pushed the animal out of the way and snapped two shots taking Olsen in the chest, killing him, but the damage was done, this was not any part of any plan they had ever thought of, for in moments, the citizens and their law would be flooding the street and on them like bees on honey!

 

@Bongo Any and Everyone.

Edited by Flip (see edit history)

Share this post


Link to post

It was a pleasant day out, and Emeline was enjoying the short stroll from the Lickskillet to the bank.  After Barnabas had left and the breakfast rush had settled down, she had gathered the recent earnings and left Clara in charge as she headed to the bank to deposit the money. 

 

More and more, she was trying to give the young woman more responsibilities, and she was not disappointed.  Clara was smart, responsible, and a hard worker, and not only that, Emeline really liked the girl and enjoyed her company.

 

And now was a good time to make that deposit...it was between breakfast and lunch, so the cafe wasn't too busy, and Clara was more than capable of getting lunch started.  Hopefully, the bank wouldn't be too busy, and Emeline could get in a bit of shopping before she headed back.

 

She smiled and nodded to the gentleman standing out front, not really thinking anything of his presence there, then stepped inside, pleased to see that Mr. Olsen was the only other customer and the moment.

 

"Good morning."  He smile widened as she greeted the man then started an idle conversation, her focus only momentarily distracted as the door opened, but just as she started talking to Olsen again, the newcomer pulled a gun and started shouting...

 

Things happened so fast then...Olsen was shoved into her, setting her off balance so she had to grab the counter for support, and then there was shouting and shooting...

 

"No!"  As soon as it registered that Olsen had been shot, Emeline screamed, a combination of fear and indignation.  "You didn't have to do that!"  While she was inclined to go check on the man, her good sense stayed that, telling her that there was nothing to be gained and she was best off just staying where she was, mindful of the derringer in her pocket, and mindful that there was no chance to use it at the moment, and even if there was, the chance of any effective use was nil.

 

No, for now she would stay out of the way and use the derringer only for personal protection should the need arise.

 

It also occurred to her that Barnabas was likely never going to let her go to the bank again!

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post

Another work day, not that it really seemed like all that much actual labor - at least not to Clara. She enjoyed working in the cafe, far more engaging than the many chores she had at home. She had always loved baking more so than cooking though she was certainly capable in the latter too. Why only last year she had won the Blue Ribbon for the pie baking contest at the summer festival, not that she bragged about it but that blue ribbon hung above her bed.

 

Her employer (and far more really, almost like the mother she no longer had), Emeline informed her she was going to make the short jaunt over to the town bank to deposit some of the profits.  This was a fairly regular occurrence and the woman then left Clara in charge for the short time of her absence. Clara by now could handle it, she was capable of doing anything Emeline could do be it in the kitchen or serving customers or making change if needed.

 

Clara was scrubbing a pan when she heard a shot? No, another shot right after! Outside on the street too by the sound of it? Some drunken cowboy celebrating god only knew what? Wait, it was still morning though, drunk already? Ever the curious one, Clara slipped the pot back into the sink and headed thru the cafe toward the front door and windows. There was shouting going on too.

A customer had beat her to the door and had it open, he was gawking in the direction of the bank though Clara had yet to realize that specific fact.

Share this post


Link to post

Ralph was outside of the Star Dust saloon with a broom in his hands, sweeping the boardwalk outside the front doors. Not one of his favorite things to do, unnecessary in his opinion but Matilda insisted. He had long ago given up on arguing with that woman over anything. Just then there was a shout, he looked in the direction of the voice.

 

“THEY’RE ROBBING THE BANK BOYS!”

 

What the hell? His sweeping stopped as he saw a man out in the middle of the street just as there were two rapid fire shots and the fella toppled to the dirt. He also caught sight of the man who fired the shots, some jasper he never saw before holding a smoking pistol.

 

"Sonofabitch!" Ralph dropped the broom instantly and raced back inside. He had a shotgun behind the bar and a revolver too.

 

The saloon had money in that bank and he would be damned if he would just let some yahoos steal it!

  • Love 1

Share this post


Link to post

The swinging doors of the saloon banged open and a blur of calico flew in with the speed of a bullet. Arabella skidded at the end of the bar, sliding as she tried to stop and then crawling on hands and knees, basket still in the crook of her arms and bonnet on her head as she hid behind the bar. She must have seen Ralph as she’d run in because her voice started yelping away from her refuge, loud but clearly rattled.

 

“They’re robbin’ the bank  and they shot Mr. Olsen and Miss Em went in there and I left Bridget in the street and she was going in there and I don’t know if she’s all right and oh, please Jesus please let her be all right!” she managed to blurt out before she dissolved into tears and mixed the sobs and the sniffles with murmurs of “oh please, Jesus, please. Please, please, please…”

 

This wailing might have gone on forever, but the sight of Mr. Flandry, coming round the bar to get his shotgun roused her out of her funk, to the extent of her crawling over to him and grabbing hold of his leg with a sob of “Oh, please don’t go out there, Ralph! Oh please, please, please, I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you!”

 

She must have been in a state of pure terror to have called the imposing barman by his Christian name, she never dared do that, even in teasing.

 

Then something else took over her soul: guilt. Awful, searing guilt. It drowned the terror and she pulled herself fretfully and shakily to her feet and tried to push past the hirsute barman.

 

“I left her out there! I gotta go out and find her! I gotta go. I’ll never forgive myself if anything’s happened to her!” she cried, absently trying to adjust her bonnet ribbons with palsied fingers.

Edited by Javia (see edit history)

Share this post


Link to post

It was a pleasant day, warm with a light breeze, so Addy had the big sliding doors at the front of the barn open as she worked on mucking stalls.  She was shoveling in time to the tune she was humming, her thoughts drifting between what she needed to accomplish today, what she wanted to do today, and Jay.

 

Not that Jay was any of her concern, right?  Sure, they'd sneaked a kiss at the dance, and it had made her toes curl, and she had thought that it meant something more than just a kiss, but apparently not, since he had been making himself scarce since, and she wasn't even sure if he was still in town.

 

No matter, she had pretty much convinced herself that she didn't care, that the idea of having him in her future had been fun for the night, but certainly not at all practical.  After all, she was near a mother now, what with Weedy to look after, even though once she bought the house there would be plenty of...

 

“THEY’RE ROBBING THE BANK BOYS!”

 

The shout from just up the street was quickly followed by gunshots, leaving no question that there was trouble.  Without a second thought, Addy dropped her shovel and ran for the doors, grabbing her pistol as she went.  After hastily strapping on the weapon, she dragged the door shut -- no outlaw was going to 'borrow' any of her horses -- and a quick glance toward the bank showed a body in the street.

 

Swearing under her breath, Addy grabbed her coach gun then sprinted down the alley behind the courthouse, heading to the school.  There would be plenty of folks going to protect the bank and to go after the robbers, so she would get to the school and provide some protection, just in case things got wild and whoever was in the bank decided to try to take refuge in town.

 

 

 

Share this post


Link to post

“Damn it!” Bill Marley roared at the sound of the shots. “Quick, get the money and let’s get out of here!”

 

“You heard the man, sonny, fill it up. An whatever’s in the safe.” Dade Marley repeated to Luke.

 

“There’s no time for that, just get what we can and lets get out of here before the town decends on us!” Cole Simpson advised.

 

“Kid’s out there on his own with the horses, they get him them nag’s’ll bolt sure!” Arty chimed in, looking out the window. Kid Carlisle was standing spread legged one hand holding their mounts, the other his Colt as he looked in every direction, knowing the town was alerted and he was the prime target.

 

This was not about to be an easy escape, with the towns folk alerted to the robbery, they would be shooting first and asking questions later. No one had seen any sign of law when the filtered into tow, but that didn’t mean there was no Sheriff or Marshal.

“Take the woman hostage?” They won’t shoot her!" Arty added.

 

“Leave her be, we’d need more than her! Get the god-damned money and let’s get!” Bill cried. And it was true, the woman wouldn’t make any difference if they didn’t get moving, they be cut down when they mounted up, so she would be useless.

 

“Speed it up sonny, we ain’t got all day!” Dade threatened, cocking his gun.

 

@JulieS @Players

 

Share this post


Link to post

Speed leaned forward as if to say something to Pike when everything abruptly changed. The gunshots ripped through the mid-morning air. Over the sounds of the traffic, and then of horses and wagons being spirited away, as fast as they could. Two in rapid succession, so it was someone firing in earnest. Speed was up out of his chair with Pike already at the door, pulling it open.

 

The two lawmen were in the street at a dead run, heading up the street, guns drawn. Dodging traffic that was attempting to get away slowed their progress. People on the boardwalks were ducking into to businesses or running toward them. The shots could have come from the Stardust Saloon, or just about any place, including the bank. They could see the body then, and the man holding the horses with a pistol in his hand.

 

Their halting attempts to get up the street were frustrating, but understandable, as the citizens were trying to get out of the line of fire. The man that was down was not moving and that was a bad sign. Both men hoped that someone, anyone, would take up the challenge There had been no other shots fired, so whoever was in the bank had not been hurt, and on a Monday morning there could be any number of people doing business inside the bank.

 

TBC

image.jpeg

Edited by Flip (see edit history)

Share this post


Link to post

Quentin Cantrell strolled down the plank sidewalk after enjoying a breakfast at the hotel. He touched his hat a few times to women he passed. Quentin had come into town because he wanted to have a word with the marshal about the missing cattle from the ranch. Random disappearing cattle was a part of everyday life on a ranch, but the numbers that were missing were steady and well above what could be explained by sickness, predators, and so on.

 

Quentin slowed down in front of the newspaper office. He bent and picked up a copy from the table in front and dropped a coin into the box set aside for payment. Quentin leaned against a post and began perusing the front page when he heard the clattering bang of a door nearby. He looked up and saw a man running out of the bank and into the street. He paused in the street and yelled "THEY'RE ROBBING THE BANK, BOYS!" followed by a pair of shots that dropped him in the middle of the street. Quentin crouched reflexively at the shots and looked over at the man who had fired. He stood moving in a circle trying to keep control of several horses while one hand held the pistol that had killed the man in the street.

 

Quentin swept his hand down and swept his jacket aside, his thumb pushing the loop from the hammer of his Smith and Wesson. He drew and raised the shiny revolver, aiming at the wild eyed man amidst the horses as he cocked the hammer. He paused a moment as the mass of horses kept sweeping around until the man was exposed again and Quentin fired. The round punched into the gunman on his side, a puff of dust erupting from the vest he was wearing and a patch of red appeared on his right side. The man let out a sound of pain and fired a wild round in Quentin's direction, making him crouch deeper and move to the next post to spoil the robber's aim. Quentin cocked the revolver again and fired, hitting the man in the center of his torso so he staggered back a few steps, the robber collapsed to his knees in the street, one hand still holding the reins of the horses and his pistol still in hand amidst the chaos of the street. His eyes rolled up and he toppled forward to lay in the dirt near the body of the man he had killed, his arm still bobbing with the reins tangled in his fingers.

 

Open Tags

Share this post


Link to post

“Jesus Christ! They killed the Kid!” Arty shouted. “Some hombre across the street got off a shot an’ put him down! We gotta get outta here!”

 

“Shut up Arty! Lemme think.” Bill grumbled loudly.

 

“Think hell! There a back door to this cracker box? Not you sonny, you keep fillin’ that sack!” Dade retorted angrily.

 

Cole Simpson burst into the managers office, only yo find it empty, but the was a window on the back wall, and that would have to do. “Bill! There’s a window back here!”

 

Meanwhile, as Speed and Pike were struggle to get through traffic, a wagon, trying to make a tight corner slid ,and tipped, landing on it’s side right in front of the pair of lawmen.


The contents of it’s bed strewn out on the street, the errant driver pinned under the seat howling in pain.

 

There was nothing for either to do but try and get the man out by lifting the wagon enough to pull him free. A couple men stopped and lent a hand getting the wagon up and the driver out, once more the two started for the bank.

TBC

 

Share this post


Link to post

Quentin realized that the posts along the front of the newspaper office did not provide him enough cover and he caught a few incoherent yells coming from inside the bank. Quentin shot a glance down the street and saw the overturned wagon, idly wondering for a moment how it managed to turn over without him hearing it. Quentin moved down and stepped into the narrow alley, putting the corner of the newspaper office between himself and the bank in case any of the robber's comrades decided to take revenge. Quentin glanced down and broke open the Smith, tugging the two empties from the cylinder and replacing them before snapping the revolver closed.

 

Quentin glanced down at the wagon again and thought he had glimpsed the marshal among the men helping the wagon driver. Help still looked to be a few minutes away so Quentin cocked the revolver again and leveled it at the bank, watching for any movement at the front windows or the door in case any of the robbers decided to make a break for it.

 

Open Tags and TBC

Share this post


Link to post

Recess was the best part of school, of course, every kid knew that, and although Weedy liked it best, he was willing to admit that Miss Addy was right, that he should get an education so he had a 'dern good future'.  It helped that he and Wyatt had become good friends, so he had someone to suffer with him, and Wyatt was better at studies, so he helped Weedy along.

 

But it was recess now, and the boys were at the side of the schoolhouse, playing marbles, when a ruckus started in the middle of town, along with some shooting.  Glancing at Wyatt, Weedy jumped up and called, "C'mon, let's go see!"

 

Without waiting to see if the other boy followed, he darted past the school, toward the alley that paralleled Main Street.

 

@Wayfarer

Share this post


Link to post

Wyatt was just about to take his turn to shoot with his favorite blue marble, it was his lucky marble and he was confident it would not fail him.......suddenly there were one...two shots.....then commotion in town and before he could even say anything a few more shots. He snatched up his marble even as Weedy had a brilliant idea.

 

"C'mon, let's go see!"

 

For a second, Wyatt wondered if he should let their teacher know about this but Weedy wasn't waiting and took off. Well, if it was something exciting he wasn't going to miss out and let Weedy have all the fun. He raced after him.

 

Wyatt.jpg

Share this post


Link to post

As Ralph raced for his guns, there was Arabella - the girl had quite the knack of showing up whenever you definitely did not want her to at times.

 

“They’re robbin’ the bank  and they shot Mr. Olsen and Miss Em went in there and I left Bridget in the street and she was going in there and I don’t know if she’s all right and oh, please Jesus please let her be all right!” she managed to blurt out before she dissolved into tears and mixed the sobs and the sniffles with murmurs of “oh please, Jesus, please. Please, please, please…”

 

"I know they are and I'm gonna go see what I can do about it," Ralph announced rather calm about the whole thing too. The shotgun was always loaded as was the revolver he shoved into his beltline. Never knew when one might need them in the saloon.

He headed back toward the front door.

 

"Oh, please don’t go out there, Ralph! Oh please, please, please, I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you!”

 

"I'll be fine, child!" he snapped.

 

Suddenly the girl  shakily got  to her feet and tried to push past the hirsute barman.

 

“I left her out there! I gotta go out and find her! I gotta go. I’ll never forgive myself if anything’s happened to her!” she cried, absently trying to adjust her bonnet ribbons with palsied fingers.

 

Ralph really did not need this right now, dealing with Arabella when there was both a robbery and now a gunbattle going on. There were more shots. Glancing over the swinging doors, he saw a still body and also a second man down, dropped gun at his side. He had been apparently holding unhitched horses.

 

Arabella never made it past Ralph though as he lunged and grabbed her forcefully by one of her upper arms and pulled her straight to face him. The man was not one to show anger but when he did, the fury on that bearded visage was indeed intimidating.

 

"Dammit it all! You stay put! You'll just make things worse. Let people who know what they're doin' - DO IT !" he glared and his voice was as grim as his look.

 

With that he pushed her back deeper into the saloon and then moved on out. There was a watering trough for the horses only a few yards from the saloon boardwalk and he went and knelt down behind it to provide some cover and of course a harder target. Those bandits were going to have to get their horses. They might run out another back way but on foot they would have no chance against a pursuing posse. No, they needed their animals. So he felt he was in a good position to deny 'em that.  It was just a matter of waiting for one or more of them to come rushing out. He readied the shotgun and took a breath, it all came back to him those years in the war. Remain calm, shoot low and squeeze don't pull the trigger.

 

 

Share this post


Link to post

At first, Jonah was inclined to ignore the shooting and just continue with his shopping, after all, he was hardly a gunman, and he was certain that there were plenty of men in town who would be more than pleased to play the trigger-happy hero, and anything he had to contribute would be of little help.

 

But that choice was effectively taken from him when an old man who was peering out the window at all the excitement shouted, "That wagon tipped!  There's a man trapped there!  Doc!"

 

Doc what?  Jonah almost rolled his eyes.  Of course he would be expected to go help, he was, after all, a doctor.  And as much as he'd like to at least put off the inevitable until the shooting had stopped, he had too much at stake here, and folks were staring at him.

 

Taking a breath, Jonah abandoned the items he was about to buy and dashed out the door, staying crouched low, grateful, at least, that this time he wasn't the specific target of the shooting.  Staying low and close to buildings, he headed toward the spilled wagon, but before he even got there the hapless driver had been pulled free.  At least the wagon and debris provided some bit of cover.

 

As he darted into the street, Jonah's attention was distracted by a young woman who was standing in the middle of the street, either paralyzed, or oblivious to all the chaos going on around her.  If someone didn't...

 

And why was he 'someone'?  "Well, hell," he muttered, sprinting past the wagon and to the girl.  "Miss, we need to get out of the street..."  He really did want to get out of the way...quickly!

 

@Javia for Bridget

Share this post


Link to post

Charles had just the Lick Skillet after a late breakfast and was heading to the bank.  Earlier that morning he had met with Horace Simkin, who  was looking at making some repairs to his barn and a possible expansion.  Since he had recently acquired the bank, Horace was keen to show him around the barn and discuss his plans.

 

During the meeting they had also talked about the dance.  Simkin was mostly pleased with how it had gone on Saturday night and thought it was a great success.  Other than a couple of minor incidents, Simkin was glad that it had remained trouble-free.

 

The shout from the direction of the bank, alerted to him that there was trouble.  The bank was being robbed and there was nothing he could do about it.  He could already see the law and a couple of other people approaching the scene.  Gunshots started to ring out and then a wagon turned over.  Someone was shouting to the doc to go check the man under the wagon.  Things were happening very quickly and all he could do was watch.

 

He glanced over to the bank and hoped the two tellers that were on duty hadn't done anything foolish.  Luke Johnson would be there and from what he had seen so far, he was sensible.  There was no chance of him taking a chance and pulling out the revolver that was in the drawer on the counter where he was stationed.

 

As he continued to watch the events unfold, his mind wander to what the robbers would be getting.  Thankfully, he had just implemented a new security policy where only enough cash was kept in the cashier's drawers overnight to deal with any rush the morning might bring.  The rest of the bank's funds was in the vault which couldn't be opened until he arrived.  Luke knew where to find the combination if he was unable to make it in for some reason.  Later on, he  had planned to invest in a making the vault more secure but after today's events he would be doing it straight away.

Share this post


Link to post

[Dr. Danforth and Bridget Monahan]

 

Bridget felt it in the air even before it happened.

 

She had been walking to the bank with two cents that had been given to her. People did that now, since it got round about her unusual visits to the bank. Some people did it to make fun of her, others out of a misguided pity for, in truth, the young woman wanted for nothing in the material sense. Others yet gave her dribs and drabs of copper coinage because they figured it would make her happy, which it did. She had no self-pride, and took the meager proffering as readily as she had when she begged for a living.

 

She knew that her usual ‘teller’, the owner of the bank, the nice Mr Wentworth wasn’t there today, she felt that too. No matter. She was improving and now gave her pennies over freely to the others. Young Mr Johnston had taken her last measly deposit. But when Arabella had bumped into her with an excited “You goin’ to the bank, I’ll come with ya!” she had stayed her friend’s progress, raised her ginger tousled head and sort of sniffed the atmosphere, like she could already smell the acrid tang of cordite and burnt black powder.

 

Mr Olsen getting shot was a strangely beautiful sight to the girl: the whole thing was a sort of poem about life and death and the thin skein that separates the two. She had watched open mouthed and wide eyed, not in horror, but in awe, as the blood fountained magically out of his chest and the once vibrant human animal collapsed into a pile of meat, offal and bone. Arabella’s reaction was more prosaic and expected: she’d given an ear-splitting scream and run away as fast as her clumpy lace-up boots could carry her. Then again, she’d done exactly the same thing a few days ago when they had both seen an unusually large spider.

 

Then somebody shot someone else.

 

Then a wagon turned over.

 

All these exciting things on one day, it was like being back in Deadwood.

 

Then a man grabbed her and started to drag her away.

 

"Miss, we need to get out of the street..."  He really did want to get out of the way...quickly!

 

He seemed to mean well, so she went with him and when they were somewhere the man deemed to consider safe, she whispered to him “It’s a bank robb’ry.” She gave the Doctor a big smile and  craned her neck to try and see what would happen next.

 

@Bongo

Share this post


Link to post

Brigid & Jonah

 

“It’s a bank robb’ry.”

 

"Yes, yes it is."  Now that he had a chance to really look at the young woman, Jonah recognized her from the dance, realizing that she wasn't 'all there', although he had no idea what her specific problem was.  At least she was fearless, whether that was because she was bold, or was addled, he didn't know.

 

"Come, dear."  Gently, he took her by the elbow and started to steer her toward the boardwalk.  "We need to be out of the way."  His calm demeanor belied his racing heart, and it was little consolation to think that some of the Indian populations thought that addled people were blessed by the gods and couldn't be harmed, particularly in battle.  Of course, that was absurd, but he at least hoped that they could get to cover before the streets got really crazy!

 

@Javia

Share this post


Link to post

Kate was standing near the front door of the school house when the shots began to ring out.  Immediately she began to gather all of the children and usher them inside.  As she did she took a mental of which ones she had seen.  It didn't take long for her to notice that Weedy and Wyatt were missing.

 

Her first instinct was to go and search for the two boys but before she could young Becky Cole came up and flung her arms around her upper legs.  The girl was only six years and had started school back in the fall and Kate could see that she was frightened.  Bending down she smiled at Becky's upturned face, "Don't worry, we're all safe as long as we stay inside.  I'm sure Marshal Guyer is out there right now.  It won't be long."

 

Becky smiled a little, "Yes, ma'am.  I'm glad to know that the marshal is out there.  My pa says he's a good man."

 

"Yes, he's a good man and he'll stop whoever is out there making all of that noise."

 

She was about to ask one of the older students to come and take care of Becky, when the door open.  A mild look of surprise appeared on her face, "Addy!  I'm so glad you're here."

 

@Bongo

Share this post


Link to post

Emeline in the Bank

 

It was taking all her concentration to keep her breathing under control, but Emeline knew she had to keep her wits about her, especially when one of the men suggested they take her hostage.  The last thing she wanted was to be dragged along with these men, especially since she knew that Barnabas would be in the thick of things, and if she was too involved it might distract him, and he could get hurt.

 

Maybe, just maybe, he'd ridden out on patrol and wasn't actually in town, but as much as Emeline hoped that to be the truth, she knew that was wishful thinking.  Biting her lower lip, she scooted as tightly into a corner as she could, hoping the men would forget about her and praying for Barnabas' safety...for everyone's safety, even the idiots robbing the bank.

Share this post


Link to post

School

 

More shots rang out along Main Street, distinct even over the shouts and cries of people trying to get to cover, and Addy was even more determined to get to the school.  Trouble wasn't likely to get there, but there was never any telling what could happen, and besides, she would feel better knowing the children were looked after, and she as fairly certain that the teacher would feel the same.

 

Slowing her pace as she headed up the stairs, Addy took a breath and slung the shotgun casually over her arm -- likely everyone was riled up from all the fuss anyway, and there was no need to add to fear.  She gave a gentle knock, then opened the door.

 

"Addy!  I'm so glad you're here."

 

"Miss Katherine."  Smiling, she nodded to the woman and the children, pleased to see that the situation was well in hand, not that she expected less from the teacher, who had a good head on her shoulders.  "Thought I'd just come by an' stay fer a bit.  Everyone here all right?" 

 

Looking around and not seeing Weedy, she frowned, but maybe he was...somewhere...

 

@JulieS

Share this post


Link to post

Kate saw the frown on Addy's face and she knew what it meant, "I'm afraid both Weedy and Wyatt Redmond have gone off to see what all the fuss is about."

 

She paused, "I was about to go and look for them but now that you're here...well what I mean to say is that I will stay here with the other children and make sure they are safe.  If you remember, I know how to use a rifle if need be.  Besides, I've gotten some lessons on how to handle a gun from Mr. Thornton, so we'll be fine."

 

Even if Addy didn't acknowledge it openly, most of the town knew how she felt about Weedy.  "I don't think they've been gone that long so you should be able to find them before they get into any trouble."

 

@Bongo

Share this post


Link to post

Bridgit & Jonah

 

"Come, dear."  Gently, he took her by the elbow and started to steer her toward the boardwalk.  "We need to be out of the way."  His calm demeanor belied his racing heart, and it was little consolation to think that some of the Indian populations thought that addled people were blessed by the gods and couldn't be harmed, particularly in battle.  Of course, that was absurd, but he at least hoped that they could get to cover before the streets got really crazy!


Bridget took one last look at the exciting bank robbery as she was led away by the gentleman whom she only now turned to regard properly. At first glance, he reminded her of Mr. Crabbe, her guardian. Same sort of age same sort of build and, like Lorenzo, neatly turned out in a suit and cravat. But closer scrutiny revealed a very different character indeed. As a beggar, she had gained a sort of sixth sense about how a person was going to act toward her, based on…, well, she didn’t know how she came up with the feelings. She just knew that if she had been begging, this man would have gone to great pains, not just to throw her a few coppers, but to talk to her, ask her questions, maybe too many questions, and actually try to help her.

 

People observing his actions would be impressed, they would admire him doing all the right things.

 

A successful, admirable, happy man. Maybe.

 

He was close to her, as he guided her to the side of the street. Close enough for her to whisper in his ear.

 

“Where can… where can we go?” she asked.

 

Yes, when she had been begging, the men who wanted to talk to her, the ones who wanted to help her, to rescue her, to save her, they were always the lonely ones. The sad ones. Sure, some had wanted bad things, but most had wanted just to talk to someone, just to be with someone, someone they didn’t need to impress or keep up appearances with. Maybe this nice man wanted that.

 

@Bongo

 

Edited by Javia (see edit history)
  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post

Dade stood glaring at the window. Suddenly, he snatch the chair at the desk and threw it at the glass with instantly gave way with a loud crash. He grinned and went back out to the bank proper, snatching the bag from the teller who cowered from the man.

 

Before he could move , Cole Simpson shoved Dade hard, the man falling, the bag skittering across the floor, money going ever where as Cole bolted to the back room.

 

Seeing the window he hoisted himself up and out, hitting the ground hard and rolling to a stop. getting to his feet he pulled his pistol, looking about wildly, He saw what he believed to be his salvation, two boys! ''

 

"Don't you two move or by the Lord Harry I'll kill ya both!"  He snarled. And, at that moment, Dade Marley come out of the window and looked askance at Simpson and the boys, then took off running, disappearing behind a building, as Cole reached for the nearest  boy.

 

@Bongo@Wayfarer

 

 

Share this post


Link to post

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now

About Sagas

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.

Connect With Us On

discord_white

If you would like to join the Sagas' Discord server or are already a member, click the image to open the Discord web application.

Site Credits

Founders: Stormwolfe & Longshot

Sagas' Rating

sagas-rating

×
×
  • Create New...