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NekoLen
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#1
Old 05-02-2014, 12:18 AM

Shot Me Down

An rp by Tachigami and NekoLen

The flat landscape of the desert stretched on for what felt like forever. Men got lost out here, went mad, died of thirst. It was a still, quiet place and Joey liked it. For the longest time he had a partner, a boy just a decade younger than himself. Someone to talk to, laugh with, plot with... Spend lonely and cold nights with. But that boy was dead, shot down by law men only a few months ago. Now Joey was alone once again.

He sighed and adjusted his wide-brimmed hat, pulling the scarf up around his mouth to prevent himself from breathing in too much sand. His trusty horse, Night, whinnied slightly, slowing its walk into a nervous trot. Joey stroked the horse's sweat-soaked neck, casting a wary eye over the many bleached white bones of both beast and humans they passed. Lost souls that were taken by the harshness of the outback.

He pulled Night around, starting towards where he knew a small native tribe had settled. They had water and he had things to trade with them. He was on good terms with most of the tribes around the area, which was quite an achievement for a white man. He ushered Night along, encouraging him to pick up his speed. The horse was tired, and so was Joey. They had chased a wagon train, trying to hijack one of the wagons to steal any valuables. But they had failed and Joey blamed his depression. He just kept thinking about him, his pretty boy.

"It's OK, Night. We are nearly there. I'll let you graze and drink all the water ya want, old boy." He had no one but his horse and his thoughts. He had to get used to it.

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#2
Old 05-02-2014, 12:38 AM

Every day for the past week Andrew had been called a liar and a fool. He'd been crammed into a little dirt-floor cell and given barely any food or water. At various intervals, he would be pulled out and bent over a bale of hay, whipped and slapped around as pale men demanded to know just how he had stolen a gorgeous white horse. But it was his horse, a lovely, snow-white mare he had called White Tide. He had ridden her into town last week near evening, had tied her outside a small building and had taken his meager amount of money to buy her some grain and himself a bit of food and a place to sleep. A day after getting to town, however, he had been forced into handcuffs and taken before a man in red, his ugly, weathered mug glaring down a crooked nose as dark eyes evaluated Andrew. And then he had said it. "That's the Indian bastard that's taken my horse. Have him taken in and interrogated until he admits his crime."

He was shaking, pacing and wringing his long, slender hands. He'd heard deputies whispering about him and it had put a lump in his throat. They kept casting sly glances his way, mentioning how good he looked for a little red-skinned boy. Nervous hands reached up to his hair and ran his fingers through it. It was tangled and out of its usual braid, and his clothing was rumpled and dirty, bloody in the back.

Someone appeared from the left and Andrew gasped, stumbling back and into the wall and immediately regretting it, as the closing wounds on his back screamed their protests. He swallowed the urge to vomit as the sheriff crossed his arms through the bars of the cell and rested his forehead against it. "Trial's today." He growled, his sweeping gaze evaluating every inch of Andrew. "Gonna tell us your real name, boy?"

He sighed shakily, wrapping his arms around his chest. "It... is... my name..." He stammered. "I s-swear."

"Shut up." The man waved his hand. "Guess you'll take that to your grave too, eh?" He laughed cruelly, standing upright. "Gonna be at noon."

When he was left alone, Andrew slid down the rough wall and cried when his wounds opened up again. Few actually knew how long they had left in the world...

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#3
Old 05-02-2014, 01:04 AM

It had been a few hours before Joey arrived in a small town. It had appeared out of nowhere, as towns did in the west, and its sudden appearance had confused him. He was sure the small native tribe was around here somewhere, but it had been a long time since he had been this far west. Maybe they had already been massacred, their land taken and their women befouled. The thought made him sick. He was ashamed of his own race.

He stopped Night outside a saloon, tying the horse up near a water trough. The horse looked so tired, and gratefully drunk from the trough. Joey felt bad that the pastures were no longer here. How long had it been? He glanced up at the saloon's name, seeing that the town was named Dritfwood. He adjusted his hat again and made sure his buckle was sitting right before entering the dark bar.

Inside many drunks sat, playing poker and chewing on tobacco. They looked up when he walked in and stared in awe, as if they knew who he was. He gave them a look and they quickly returned to their games. He walked slowly up to the bar, sitting on a stool and waiting for the bartender to turn towards him.

"What can I do for ya, stranger?" the man asked him, cleaning a glass with the dirty apron he wore. Joey screwed his nose up, but didn't comment.

"Whisky," he muttered, digging into his pockets and slamming two silver coins onto the table. The barman nodded and grabbed a dusty bottle, placing it by Joey as he took the money. "Barkeep, what happened here? Last time I was by, there was a tribe of natives here, not a town for white folk."

The bartender smiled slightly. "Our town mayor took care of them, he did. Killed a few of 'em and the rest ran away into the desert." Joey scowled, but asked no more questions. He opened the bottle and took a swig, enjoying the familiar taste of alcohol as it washed down his throat. As he drunk, he couldn't help but overhear a conversation between two men that were sitting nearby. One seemed to be excited about something, while the other was way too drunk to form proper sentences.

"Caught him red-handed, and I mean the pun of course," the excited young one said with a chuckle. "Bloody thieving natives. Seems to think he has a white man name."

"Spaks piddy gud anglelisf fur a red-skuned fulla," the drunk slurred, picking up a chipped mug and sloshing the dark liquid over his front.

"I suppose so, but that won't stop a hanging. We haven't had a good one for a long time. I can't wait for tomorrow," the excited man said, lifting up his glass of red liquid and sipping it carefully.

Joey looked over to where they sat. "Excuse me young fella, what were you saying about a native?" he asked, getting the men's attention.

"Oh, we caught a red-skin who had stolen the mayor's horse. He's in the gaol right now awaiting trail. But don't you worry, sir, I am the prosecutor in this here town, and I will make sure it's a hanging we'll see tomorrow."

"We ull lek dem hangyings," the drunk cheered, raising his mug and taking a big drink from it. Joey showed his disgust, standing up suddenly.

"Sir, don't forget your whiskey," the barkeep called after him as he made his way out of the saloon. Joey looked back at the prosecutor and drunk.

"He can have it. I found it too... Weak." He left the dingy place and looked about the town, sighting the gaol just down the dusty street. It was next door to the sheriff's office, which sat just beside what seemed like a town hall. Joey brought the scarf up around his face and pulled his hat down, walking towards the place. Outside the town hall, a beautiful white mare was tied. She was whinnying, as though crying about something. The horse was beautiful, and from how her mane was braided and how obvious it was she hadn't been shoed or wore no saddle, he could tell it was the horse of a native. The one that had been caught and accused of a crime he didn't commit. The thought sickened Joey.

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#4
Old 05-02-2014, 01:25 AM

Outside he could hear people moving about. The window was high and he couldn't quite peer out, but when he managed to haul himself up enough, his dark eyes wouldn't pick up much. They couldn't see well under the harsh sunlight, it was hard to make anything specific out. He didn't bother trying anymore, his arms were weak and his mouth dry. He was dehydrated, and his stomach felt as if it were trying to eat itself. In the past week he had been given a small cup of water a day, and a piece of bread and small strip of dried meat. He didn't like the meat---it was too spicy, like it was smoked for too long and salted far too much. But food was food, and he wasn't passing it up, no matter how little time he had left. In his mind's eye Andrew could see the gallows and the noose. It was in the center of town, he'd passed it coming in. Shuddering at the thought, he managed to stand up without becoming dizzy and collapsed on the little cot in the corner of the cell frontward, wriggling out of his bloody shirt to give his wounds some time to breathe. Blood oozed down his back, and he shook.

There were times it was quiet enough that he could hear a vague, frantic whinnying, and his eyes stung painfully. That was his girl, his White Tide, possibly about to be given to a man that had never owned her. Of course the people of this town didn't care. They wanted him to have what he wanted and they wanted to see a public execution. He wasn't even twenty yet and accused of the very thing he hated---theft. Why had he come into town in the first place? He knew there were beautiful forests to the west, the north, even the south. He would have gone south but White Tide had been so hungry, and so tired. The dense scrub brush out here just didn't hold the right nutrients.

He let out a high, shuddering sigh and closed his eyes to fight back tears as the cell door opened and closed. He knew it wasn't time, he still had a day. When the hand fell on his shoulder, Andrew knew not to fight back.

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#5
Old 05-02-2014, 01:39 AM

Joey glanced towards the sheriff's office, seeing many wanted posters pinned to the wall outside it. Of course he was up there, under the banner of "dead or alive". He wondered how many people would recognise him for who he really was. He crept up to the gaol, looking through the windows until he saw the native boy they had been talking about. His breath was taken away from him momentarily as he saw the young man's face. He looked so much like his pretty boy... His Jake. But that couldn't be possible, Jake was dead...

He stood back up straight and walked back to where Night was tied up. Untying him, he led the horse towards a barn. The man that owned the barn sold many horse supplies and Joey was glad to find some feed for him. He paid the man a few gold coins without any word, leading Night just out of town and letting the horse eat from the bag. He laid back, staring up at the sky and waiting for the sun to sink low enough. In his mind he plotted their escape. He would bust into the gaol, kill the guard and take the keys. He would then get the native boy out of the cell and they would make a run for it to the white horse. If worse came to worse, Joey would have to use his guns.

He pulled them out now, making sure he had enough bullets and that they were clean and working fine. He had killed many men with these guns, and wouldn't hesitate to kill more.

Night time came quickly as it did in the desert. Joey left Night to wander slightly just out of town, knowing his horse was trustworthy enough to come running when he whistled. He walked back into the town, his hat over his face once again as he made his way back to the gaol. Once there, he stepped inside the surprisingly unlocked door and found the guard sleeping at the front counter. Grinning, Joey took out his hunting knife and cut the man's throat from ear to ear so he would never wake up again.

Finding the keys nearby, he took them and continued deeper into the gaol, ignoring the other cellmates as he walked down the stairs and came to where the native boy was curled up on the bed. Was he sobbing? His back was turned to the door and Joey could see blood. He had been beaten and possibly whipped for his supposed crime. It made Joey mad. He rattled the keys to get the boy's attention. "Be quiet, I'm getting you out of here." His voice was low, but strict enough to make even the most scared person obey what he was saying. "Once I open the gate, I want you to go upstairs and around the building. Do not go near the sheriff's office. From behind the building, I want you to keep walking up the hill until you see a black stallion. You must wait there. Be quiet. Don't make a noise. If you are seen, they are likely to shoot you."

He tried different keys, finally finding the right one. He slowly opened the door to the cell. "I'll get your horse."

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#6
Old 05-02-2014, 02:05 AM

He hurt all over. He was pained, agonizingly so, and every movement was difficult. His muscles locked up when he moved and when he felt that overwhelming urge to cry, he had to bite the sack that made up his pillow so the shaking didn't cause too much more movement. Nightfall came with few more people trying to take their turn with him, but it was still a few too many. When his cell darkened and lanterns were lit between every cell wall, Andrew managed to raise his head and force his body to move. He curled up against a wall and turned his back to the cell door, hoping to drag out every minute he still had alive. He hadn't grown up with his birth family, hadn't learned of his ancestors, his gods, did he even have gods? Or did he have the one God the white people did? The ones his adoptive parents had? He sighed shakily, glancing up as a commotion reached his ears. Footfalls. Then a rattling of the door. He gasped, spinning around and immediately regretting such a movement as another bolt of pain made him cry out. But he didn't look like a man of the law.

He slapped a hand over his mouth to shut himself up---he was whimpering without realizing it. Andrew nodded curtly every few moments, committing the stranger's words to memory. Was he saving him? He looked familiar. A face on a wanted poster. A gunman, wanted dead or alive. Wasn't he feared by so many others? Andrew wasn't going to question this man. He didn't want to be killed like the others he'd no doubt killed. When the door was opened he didn't bother retrieving his shirt. He slipped out of the cell and crept backward, flinching when someone from a nearby cell yelled wordlessly at him.

He didn't bother saying anything---his throat was scratchy and dry. He turned and sprinted down the hall, hitting the opposite wall as he lost his balance and became dizzy. Avoid the sheriff's office... He did, turning away from that door and heading the other way, passing a water spigot and glancing around. No one was near. He collapsed in front of it and pumped the handle, cupping his hands under the falling water and swallowing as much as he could in just several moments' time. He had to get out. He had to get out and run... where? Up that hill where a black horse was? He sighed, looking for the staircase and finding it. He felt exhausted, tired. When he made it up, Andrew peered around a doorway and gasped when he saw a man with his throat slashed. The doing of this man that had helped him? He shuddered hard, closing his eyes as he passed and finding his way outside. It was cool. He could feel a breeze. Finally. And to his left was the hill in the distance.

For some reason he trusted the man to get his horse. He couldn't bear leaving White Tide. Nonetheless, he kept glancing over his shoulder, rubbing his bare shoulders as he walked.

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#7
Old 05-02-2014, 02:21 AM

Joey waited for a little while before emerging from the gaol, dropping the keys on the body of the dead guard. No alarms were raised and no shots were fired, meaning the boy had gotten out of the town unharmed. Joey hummed to himself as he left the building, glancing towards the town hall. Of course the horse had been moved, and Joey guessed she had been taken to the barn.

Keeping a hand on his gun, he crept up the road towards the barn. No one seemed to be around as he approached the big building, and he heard many horses neighing and whinnying behind the wood as he approached the large doors. He was so close to sneaking inside when a dog barked nearby. He started and looked to his side. He hadn't seen the large hound tied to its kennel to guard the barn. Cursing, he shot it and pulled open the door, hearing the farmer yelling at him and dodging the bullets of the rifle the man was firing.

Inside the barn, many horses were tied up. Some were workhorses, others were waiting to be sold to those that needed transport. Joey rushed along the stalls, finally finding the white horse tied up at the back of the barn. He untied her, wondering how on Earth he was supposed to get her out as he heard some more yelling. The sheriff, of course. He was asking for Joey to come on out with his hands up. Sounded as though they thought he was the native boy, trying to steal more horses. Joey frowned and slowly approached the door, his hands in the air as the men shone lights in his face.

"What in the Hell...? He ain't no Injun," the farmer said, aiming his rifle at Joey's face as the sheriff slowly approached him.

"Now boy, what are you doing sneaking into this fella's barn in the middle of the night? You shot his dog too, that just ain't right. I'm afraid you are going..." the sheriff trailed off, the light of his lantern finally illuminating Joey's features. "Holy shit you're...!" Joey pulled out his gun and fired before the sheriff had time to finish his sentence. The man hit the ground as the farmer swore and started shooting at Joey. Thinking quickly, Joey dived behind a thick bundle of hay. He waited for the man to stop firing before jumping out and shooting him right in between the eyes.

Before more people could come running, Joey grabbed the white horse and jumped on her back. He urged her out of town, towards where he knew Night and the native boy would be waiting. He jumped off her once he got there, hearing the sounds of men yelling as the town was awoken. "Here's your horse. We have no time, get on her and follow me." He ran for Night, jumping on him and nudging the horse's sides. Night rose up on two feet, before going back down and racing off into the night at full speed. Joey glanced back, hoping that the native was following him.

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#8
Old 05-02-2014, 02:36 AM

He had been holed up for so long---almost nine days. He had been given so little food and water that now, after drinking so much more than he'd been allowed the past eight days, he felt ill. The climb up the hill was a hard one on his sleep, food, water-deprived body, his stomach muscles contracting dangerously, and as he collapsed onto his knees beside a dark horse who he was almost expecting to have glowing red eyes, Andrew doubled over and emptied his stomach of the water he'd swallowed just a few minutes ago. He shuddered, crawling around the disgusting puddle and grabbing a handful of green grass. It was just a bit in the scattered, arid land, but he crammed it into his mouth to get the sour taste out, chewing and spitting it to the ground when it grew dry.

The horse was regarding him carefully, as if sizing him up. Andrew knew he was thin and willowy, short too, with delicate features reminiscent of a woman. It was why the men holding him had liked him. Liked him enough to use him, just not to help him, or even believe that he wasn't a horse thief. Besides, what harm was it to act out one's awful thoughts and violent tendencies on someone that couldn't fight back, and justify their abuses as deserving every raised hand, pistol butt to the head, horsewhip to the back? If the horse so wanted, he could raise a hoof and crush Andrew with very little effort.

Hoofbeats fell on his ears, and Andrew whipped his head around, making his way to his bare feet and stumbling against the solid black horse. There was his outlaw savior, and his White Tide. Beautiful white skin and almost silvery mane he brushed every day, sometimes multiple times a day because she seemed to enjoy it so much. He didn't hesitate---Andrew stepped forward, hugging White Tide's slender neck and using her mane to haul himself up onto her back. She didn't have a saddle, a lead, bit, or even a towel. Andrew didn't need any of that. He directed her with a hand on either side of the neck, a gentle kick to the flank when she needed to go faster. This time his kick was a little harder, but it was only to convince her to break into a full gallop to follow the stranger on the black one. Every fall of his behind on her back, however, had him crying out, his eyes streaming, but fear for his life pushing him to keep pace with this man and his horse.

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#9
Old 05-02-2014, 02:46 AM

It was nearly dawn when Joey slowed Night down to a gentle walk, looking behind him to see the native in bad shape. He grimaced, directing them towards a small oasis he usually stopped at when he came through this way. He jumped off Night, letting the stallion go drink from the spring and lay on the grass, and approached the white horse and her rider. He gently slowed her down, helping the boy down from her back and directing her towards the water and grass. He was sure she wouldn't run away, as it was nearly impossible for him to even get her to go drink. She seemed so concerned about her rider.

Joey helped the native walk to a patch of soft grass, letting him lie down as he went to Night to bring out some medical supplies he kept in one of the saddle bags. He returned to the boy's side, trying not to look him in the eye. He looked so much like Jake... "Here, I need to get those wounds cleaned up else you'll get a fever or worse." Using the water from the spring, he carefully cleaned the angry wounds that still bled slightly on the beautiful almost red skin of the boy. "My name's Joel. But you can call me Joey. What should I call you?" He pulled out some bottles of alcohol, which would burn the cuts and kill any bad bugs inside the wounds.

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#10
Old 05-02-2014, 02:57 AM

He wasn't sure when, exactly, he started to fall asleep despite the cool air and his immense pain. His heart was beating fast but his eyelids were starting to droop and he was going forward from time to time. When White shook her head a bit now and then it would shock him upright again. By the time the gray light of dawn was beginning to emerge, Andrew was panting hard from his injuries, his starvation, his desperation to drink a bit more water to replenish what he'd brought back up. He was so tired and just sitting upright was becoming a challenge he was afraid he'd lose. When they came to a stop, though, he was glad for the help down. The ground felt strange, too solid under him, stranger still when it came up to meet him and for a moment he thought his legs had given out, until the hand left his arm and White Tide came to his side. She had never gotten out of her tendency to lie down, which fully grown horses tended to do when they were ill or injured, and she did just that on the side not taken up by the man that had saved him for some strange reason.

When the man touched his open wounds Andrew tensed and bit back a cry, which seemed to send White into an angry whinny, making her snap at the man. Andrew raised his hand, running it over White's chest and cooed soft, meaningless words at her. "Shh, it's okay. It's okay..." He lowered his head, brushing back his frizzy hair and turning to look at the man. Joey. "M... My name... Andrew. I know... I-it's... strange. For a... a native to have a... your kind of name." he tried to laugh, but it came out in a strangled manner. "Why...? Why... did you...?" He gave up, falling silent and closing his eyes. Just a minute, and he would be asleep. Possibly in a coma.

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#11
Old 05-02-2014, 03:10 AM

The horse seemed protective over Andrew, and it made Joey smile. He hated how Andrew spoke, as though he didn't deserve the name that had been given to him. Sure it was a strange name for a native to have, but it didn't mean he wasn't allowed it. Joey cleaned the wounds and dressed them, looking at how weak Andrew seemed. "You have to have something to eat and drink before you sleep."

Not a lot, it would upset his stomach and cause him to be ill. Joey found a shallow bowl and scooped some of the spring water into it. "Carefully, not too fast..." He helped Andrew sip on the water before returning to the saddle bags and pulling out some jerky. He chewed it for the boy, helping him swallow the small amounts easier. By the time he had finished, it seemed as though there was no keeping sleep from Andrew.

"I'll look after you. Have some rest, you've no doubt had a tough week." He nodded to the boy and glanced at the white horse. She had refused to go eat the grass or drink from the spring, so she could be by her master's side. He had often marvelled at how the Indian's were so in tune with nature and animals. He smiled and went back to the spring, filling the bowl all the way up and carefully approaching the horse.

"Here ya go girl, you did very good. He should be OK when he wakes up. You need to drink something too," he offered the bowl to the horse, who sniffed it delicately before drinking from it. Joey smiled, gently patting her head. "You are such a pretty horse... Suits such a pretty boy..." He trailed off, staring off across the horizon, watching the sun rise. He laid back and tilted his hat, falling into a light sleep. If any danger approached, Night would warn him and he'd be up and ready to fight or flee.

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#12
Old 05-02-2014, 03:20 AM

When he was forced to stay awake, Andrew moaned in protest. He wanted to sleep, for once in eight days, well, and felt he could now that he wasn't forced into an airless little cell and at the mercy of at least six other sadistic people. But he was grateful for the water, despite the little amounts he had to take at a time since his stomach had shrunk over his time in imprisonment. What he was desperate for, however, was some kind of food that came from the ground, or a tree. A fruit or grain or vegetable. He felt at this point he'd cut his long hair off for just one carrot. He did his best to move to a more comfortable position, which was difficult because of the bandaged, stinging wounds on his back, but after a while he managed to curl into a half-ball alongside White Tide and immediately fall into a deep, black sleep.

White settled carefully on the grass, and from time to time sniffed Andrew. Now and then she licked his bare shoulder, nuzzled his neck, and he barely moved. As hours elapsed, she snorted and grew restless, nosing Andrew as if to make sure he would respond, and when he did, she stood and wandered to the spring, studying the black horse and keeping her distance as she stepped into the water and buried half her face in it, blowing bubbles as she did.

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#13
Old 05-02-2014, 03:26 AM

Joey must have slept for quite a while before he woke with a start, from a gunshot heard in his dreams. He stood up quickly and glanced around, calming when he realised where they were. Night was grazing peacefully nearby and the white horse seemed to be taking a dip to cool herself off. He glanced down at Andrew, quickly checking his forehead. Sighing in relief that no fever had kicked in, he strolled over to where Night grazed and stroked his mane in thought for awhile.

He went over to where they had laid to sleep, under a big green tree. Underneath the tree he found a few wild berries growing. He knew that they weren't poisonous ones and picked a few to chew on. The fruity sweetness made his tongue tingle and he smiled lightly as he heard Andrew stirring nearby. He went over to the young man, crouching and stroking his face. "You feelin' a bit better, Andrew?" he asked as the dark eyes of the native opened and looked up at him, slightly confused. "Want some more water and food? I found some berries if you think your tummy is settle enough."

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#14
Old 05-02-2014, 03:38 AM

His dreams were absolutely dark, black and undulating, like inky storm clouds. From time to time he felt White Tide's presence, and saw her in his dreams, but she was taken away by the black horse. Only now it had red eyes. Sometimes he struggled, but other times he felt oddly at peace. As if she were finding love he never would. Then came the unending urge to cry, but not of pain or horror or torment in any way. It was an overwhelming feeling of happiness. He sighed, and opened his eyes to a strange feeling. A touch on his face. Startling, he wrenched back and groaned through gritted teeth as pain shot through his previously numb body.

"Don't... Don't talk to me like that... I'm..." He sat upright, slightly lopsided to keep his full weight off his backside. "B-but... Thanks... I could use it..." He nodded, looking around for the promised berries. Something that wasn't dried meat, something that grew on a tree, or bush, or vine. Instead he was immediately greeted by White Tide, who splashed out of the water and dropped her head to bump against him. "Hi..." His voice was light. "Hi, little girl." He ran his hand over her nose in gentle strokes.

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#15
Old 05-02-2014, 03:44 AM

Joey scowled slightly, wondering what Andrew meant by what he had said. He was talking like he always did. He was never educated in a school or with a tutor, so he never bothered trying to sound smarter than he was. He got up and found some ripe berries, passing them over to Andrew as the young man talked to his horse. "Are ya feeling better though?" he asked, chewing on another berry and sitting on an old twisted root that came from the ground. "Heck, you looked like you were on Death's doorstep when we came here."

He sighed and ran a hand through his own black hair, undoing the band that held it up and letting his generous length of hair fall across his back like a sheet. "I got some supplies if you need them. Stuff for your hair and all that guff. Do you need a bag?" He assumed that Andrew would want to leave him as soon as possible. He was a wanted criminal after all, and such a cute, beautiful man like Andrew wouldn't want anything to do with him.

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#16
Old 05-02-2014, 03:56 AM

He studied the berries in his hand, nodding in reply. "I still feel like it..." He admitted, chewing the handful of berries and loving the mix of sweet and tart and the juice that was offered. The deserts were large, dry, seemingly endless expanses of death by the words of most white people he heard talking, but one only had to look in the right places to find life. An oasis in the world of parched, deadly, sun-baked land. He shifted a little, getting his legs under him and forming them into a circle to support him.

"Um..." He stared a bit, raising a hand to his own hair. That was a rare sight to see---a white man with such long, well-kept hair. Most cut it short, or had it to their shoulders at the longest. It seemed like they didn't care to even remotely resemble the people they were running off their land and putting onto predetermined plots. "I guess..." He supposed Joey wouldn't want to keep him around. Even a criminal had standards, and Joey wasn't all bad, but no doubt he wouldn't have any patience for Andrew. He was fast and strong, but not the kind of person someone like Joey would want clinging to him. He put his hands up, running them through his hair and growling as he worked through the knots. He did have to wash it, then put it back into its braid. With his back opened up with slashes, he'd have a hard time doing what he usually did. Andrew caught his breath, shifting his legs to stand, and using White Tide to support him until the world stopped spinning.

"Um... Ah... What are..." He paused, looking down at his bare feet. What had happened to his shoes...? "What are you going to do now...?" As if he didn't know, or couldn't assume. He just wanted to get rid of the silence

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#17
Old 05-02-2014, 04:03 AM

"I go where I like," Joey said, watching Andrew struggle to his feet. He wasn't in travelling condition yet, and there was no way Joey would let him leave the oasis until his wounds were closed and nearly healed. "And I like it here, so I was thinking you'd join me for awhile. At least until you get your strength back. Maybe I can help you back to your tribe." Though for some reason, Joey doubted this one had a tribe to go back to. He must have been alone for awhile. Just like himself.

"We can get more supplies at Darkwater. It ain't too far from here and the sheriff actually likes me. They try their best to live in harmony with the local natives, so you won't face any..." He couldn't think of a word to describe what he was thinking and stumbled slightly. "Er... Hate from 'em. They are good folk, the people of Darkwater, and it is the only place I refuse to do any harm in." It must have been strange to hear that an outlaw like him had morals.

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#18
Old 05-02-2014, 04:11 AM

Andrew's head snapped up and he managed a smile he hoped wasn't twisted in pain. "That... sounds nice." He said quietly, stepping forward on sore feet and getting onto his knees, feeling a muscle pull in his backside, and growling, he put a hand back to massage it calm. They had been so rough... "But... I don't have a tribe... I never grew up with any natives... I was found abandoned... At a river." He dipped his hands in the cool water, washing the dirt off his arms, torso and face, then pulling a small comb out of his pocket.

"That town... I've seen it." Andrew was dampening the comb and working his hair from the ends upward. "I never visited... I don't think they'll... like the fact that I'm a horse thief. The people... they'll know I got out. They'll..." His hand stopped working and they fell into his lap. "I... I'll never be able to go back to a town... They'll have spread the word..." He knew they'd be using Morse code to quickly contact other towns, even cities, perhaps. After all, he 'stole' from a wealthy landowner. 'Stole' a prize horse. White Tide was behind him, grazing on some green grass near the water's edge.

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#19
Old 05-03-2014, 01:46 AM

"Hey, kid. If they accept a murderous vermin like me, a petty 'horse thief' wouldn't even be looked at. Besides, we need the supplies." He didn't want to leave the injured and weak young man behind, just in case some unsavoury types found their oasis. "Also, we'll be going past the town on the way to the Tuf-shum-tia." He hoped that the tribe still existed, as they would be helpful in finding out where Andrew belonged.

He ran a small comb through his hair, as he did when deep in thought. It was such a nice feeling, having someone else to talk to. It had been so long... A memory flashed across his vision, making him sigh and shake his head. Those eyes... First showing pain, regret... relief... And then staring past him as the lights died out. He tied his hair up carefully, finding his hat and placing it on his head. "You'll need a hat. Shoes as well. A new shirt. Luckily I got a small fortune on me right now. Gonna cost me a bit."

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#20
Old 05-03-2014, 02:05 AM

Tuf-shum-tia. He wished he knew what that meant. Andrew felt like a failure to his bloodline because he had no idea of any of their languages, had been raised by a white family. They'd been well educated but had no knowledge of their languages either. He looked down, staring into the water as he ground his teeth and forced his comb through his hair. It was painful, he'd never let his hair go so terribly. Perhaps it was that native blood that kept him from cutting it at all. Maybe he was just making assumptions.

When it was finally smooth and damp against his back, Andrew slid his comb into his pocket and stood up, shaking out his right arm and twisting his hair over his shoulder. "Um, I don't need a hat... I can handle the sun... Actually I don't really like..." He bit his lips and fell silent, looking up at Joey and twisting his hair more. "I can..." He felt around and dropped his hand in resignation. "Oh... They took my... everything." He didn't even have the leather tie to put his hair back---it had snapped when he was forced into that prison. And now he had to rely on this near stranger to spend money on him. He felt utterly useless. Almost numbly, he went to White Tide and started petting her mane, receiving a light nuzzle in return.

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#21
Old 05-03-2014, 02:13 AM

Joey felt a rare emotion stirring in his heart. Sympathy. This young man had been roughed up bad he had nothing left to his name. Except his horse, who seemed to be more of a guardian than a simple animal. "We'll wait until it doesn't pain you to walk before going into town, though," he said, watching Andrew closely. "I have some food and this spring always seems to have fresh water. If we gotta stay longer, I can do some huntin'."

He took out one of his black guns and observed it, opening the chamber to count his bullets. He hated wasting them on animals, but if it was needed, he would shoot down a bird or two, or a rabbit. "So what were you doing? Before this? Wandering around the desert?"

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#22
Old 05-03-2014, 02:27 AM

Andrew's hands obsessively twisted his hair over his shoulder. "B... okay..." He could walk. It pained him, but he could pretend otherwise. He just had to bite his tongue and shut up and no one would be any the wiser. He looked away and up at the sky, squinting and covering his eyes. As the sun grew higher in the sky the world would take on a more white-wash appearance, making it hard for him to see. "I come here... a lot." He indicated the oasis. It was a beautiful place, and quiet, for the most part. He could always rely on it to have water for him when he came by.

When he looked back at Joey his breath caught in his throat. He stumbled back, moving to the water and sitting down. He hated guns. Hated how they looked. Hated their cold, soulless metal. Hated how easy it was to kill. Gunshots put him on edge. "Um... Yes... I just... I wander around. I don't really have a home, so Tide and I just... we move from town to town. I do little jobs to get some money, and I try to spend it on clothes and food." He rearranged his legs to sit a bit more comfortably. "Why do you call yourself... Um, well... where do you come from...?"

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#23
Old 05-03-2014, 02:39 AM

Joey noticed Andrew's reaction to his gun. He frowned slightly, remembering how Jake had reacted the first time he had seen a gun. Andrew was so similar to his pretty boy, in more than just looks. Jake had refused to hold a gun, to even learn how to shoot one. It had caused his death. He put it back into its holster, tilting his head slightly at the question.

"From a little village that don't exist any more. My pa was a banker and my ma was a simple housewife. I left when I was about 15, just couldn't take staying in the place, know? Came back a few years later to check on the folks and the whole town was deserted. Ain't nothing there but ghosts." He looked down from where he sat, reaching over to the bush and taking another berry. "No idea what happened to everyone. I came to Darkwater with questions and everyone said that a tribe of natives went through and killed everyone. I just think they ran outta water and went somewhere else." He really didn't care for his parents, they had been mean and God-fearing people, who tried to make a good Christian boy out of their son.

"I come here quite a lot too, especially when going to Darkwater or the Tuf-shum-tia. Is a shame we never met before, and I know we haven't because I'd remember a horse like the one you got yourself."

Last edited by NekoLen; 05-03-2014 at 02:43 AM..

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#24
Old 05-03-2014, 02:50 AM

Andrew looked down, crawling onto a stone that breached the water and slipping onto his backside, wincing and repositioning himself as he let his feet hang in the water and let it cool his hot skin. "My... parents, I guess you could call them... They were farmers. They lived far out of the nearest town, and... I guess they knew I'd grow up to be... not much. I mean, you can tell I'm cut out more for running and climbing and... not much else." He looked down at himself, strong hands and arms, powerful legs, a chest larger than average. It was all made for running, jumping, climbing. He couldn't take a punch, he was too... delicate, his father would say.

"I'm glad you like her." Andrew cast a fond glance at the white horse. "I found her when she was young. Still just a foal. Well... I mean I guess you could say she found me. I woke up one day and found her lying next to me. She's not that old, yet..." He watched her move, shining like a sleek, thin spirit under the sun. He could see her well despite the rest of the world being so washed out, like an old photograph. He winced and rubbed his eyes. "I don't think you'll want me with you." He sighed. "There's too much wrong with me."

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#25
Old 05-03-2014, 02:59 AM

"Eh, I don't see anything wrong with you," Joey waved the accusation away casually. "If ya want to tag along, I won't complain. But you do know who and what I am? I kill people, steal from them. I am a Godless, lawless SOB. If that's something you don't mind hanging around with, well I won't stop you." He looked over at the white horse and then towards where Night was resting in the shade.

"Night there was given to me by the Tuf-shum-tia. He can look a bit intimidating, but is a great long distance runner, and that's what I needed in a horse. I've had him for quite sometime." The giant stallion that had made many train robberies and getaways possible was more than just a means to get from place to place. He was a friend. "My... late partner used to be afraid of him. He had his own horse, a lot smaller and stockier than Night. Damn thing broke its leg just before... Well, we had to kill it and he was forced to ride Night with me." He smiled at the memory of sharing his horse, at how Jake had clung to him for dear life as they ran across the hard ground, his blue eyes showing so much fear.

 


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