The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Light =&gt; Light: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Dark Deception on 23-11-2010, 07:34:16</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dark Deception</strong> on <strong>23-11-2010, 07:34:16</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: impact;" class="bbc_font">The Desert</span></span><br><em>On the trail of the elusive Joanne and her cats</em><br><br><br>The Gunslinger had managed to hijack an old four by four that used to have only rust to complain about but was now littered with numerous bullet holes digging into its chassis and having popped out its back, tail lights. The weather had been so hot that dust and sweat caked his face brown, and thin, hot streams of sweat ran down his neck muscles to bead upon the built curves of his pectorals. He didn’t remove his duster for it was just that that kept him from getting sun burn. Now, to introduce the rest of the unfortunate clowns that had decided to come with him.<br><br>Besides Marilyn, it was the priest and that gambling girl whose names he hadn’t bothered to learn. Apyrl was nothing but a delirious gold-digger. The Gunslinger hadn’t forgotten her crazed religious belief that The Drifter was better than him. The thought made him lick his dry lips before he then turned his head out the window to spit onto the sand. He swore his saliva had evaporated just before it touched the earth. Regardless, he put Apryl in the truck bed with that crazy preacher. They were lucky that he wasn’t entirely heartless for he had given them a large, blanket to keep shade under, and they were all he was willing to stow back there.<br><br>Up front, Zieg kept a keg of water and some drinking mugs, a few bottles of whiskey, wrapped bread, meat, and cheese. The bartender was long dead to complain about stolen goods, which made The Gunslinger feel more obliged to take what he needed. “Jesus Christ,” the Gunslinger muttered before dragging the back of his fist across his muddy brows. He had walked the desert countless times, and he thought he’d be use to the temperature, but the heat always seemed to change whether being not so bad or intense. It wouldn’t last long for in a few hours the sun would set and he hoped by then they’d find a nice roadhouse to stay in.<br><br>The Gunslinger’s dark eyes darted up into the review mirror so that he could curiously peer into the truck bed. He couldn’t help but wonder if the sun had baked the two of them back there or were they still hanging on. Reluctantly, Zieg called, “You two still alive back there?”
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kaizen</strong> on <strong>23-11-2010, 22:32:57</strong>
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				(Mason makes his way to 'Last Chance' to meet a Wildcat guide)<br><br>Vultures chased the old rusted flatbed delivery truck as it sped through the desert on bald tires.&nbsp; “Damn rats wid wings..” Mason mumbled under his breath as he pressed the gas pedal a little harder with is good foot trying to escape the carrion.&nbsp; They reminded him of death and gave him the heebie-jeebies.<br><br>He was headed to ‘Last Chance’ a small settlement, the last of what could be called civilization before the great desert spread for hundreds if not thousands of miles.&nbsp; Mason didn’t really know how big it was, didn’t care too much either.&nbsp; But he was headed to Last Chance to meet a Wildcat.&nbsp; That was the rendezvous.&nbsp; Since they kept their base a secret, if Mason wanted to get to the warehouse and trade, he would have to wait.&nbsp; Every few days a Wildcat would make its way into Last Chance to take any clientele to the warehouse.<br><br>After seven hours of driving, Mason’s eyes began to get heavy.&nbsp; Seven hours of the same scenery wasn’t very entertaining and he had lost the radio station five hours ago.&nbsp; Nothing but the hum of the truck’s motor to keep him company.&nbsp; His head grew heavy, he jolted awake a few times but it was only a matter of minutes before he dozed off again.&nbsp; When the truck hit a tortoise disguised as a rock, Mason jolted awake and quickly checked the rear-view.&nbsp; “Mwa-har-har eat dat ya damned vultures!” he shouted out the window at the still circling black birds.<br><br>Shaking some sleep out of his head Mason reached under his shirt behind his back and lifted one of the plates that covered his vertebrae.&nbsp; He pulled a cord out and plugged it into the truck’s cigarette lighter.&nbsp; The electrical current flowed down the wire and into Mason.&nbsp; “Whoa! Yeah! Dat’s whut I’m talkin’ bout!” He said as the juice gave him a jumpstart and woke him up.&nbsp; He revved the motor for a little more juice and extra thrill.<br><br>After another hour, Last Chance finally appeared on the horizon.&nbsp; Mason knew it would be another half hour before he would get there, but at least he found it this time.&nbsp; Other times, he had fallen asleep and drove off course.&nbsp; It had taken him anywhere from a few hours to a full day to get back on track.<br><br>After getting into town, Mason parked his truck and double checked that anything of value was either locked away or on his person.&nbsp; Satisfied that everything was in order, he made his way to the saloon.&nbsp; He wouldn’t be drinking anything except water until after he had finished his business with the Wildcats.&nbsp; There’d be plenty of time for celebrating later.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zaer Darkwail</strong> on <strong>26-11-2010, 16:12:38</strong>
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				Jacob had challenged gunslinger into duel of skill with firearms, test was simple; he throws five gold coins and intention is hit each coin, aim the shot center as possible with the coins and top of that catch the coins into your mug which you swing to catch them. Jacob had practiced hard for many months said trick. Then Apryl had decided to make things interesting in suggesting if Gunslinger looses, he looses his golden guns. If Jacob losses he will serve Gunslinger in single task as minimum but Gunslinger decides when Jacob's debt has been paid! Jacob had foolishly agreed on terms.<br><br>Jacob had threw first five gold coins, he got hit on all of the with varied results. One was dead center, two others heavily slide ways, two others mere scrapes. But he got all coins on his mug tough altough one nearly fell to ground. Then Gunslinger had tried.....he hit all coins to dead center and got them into his mug into pile atop each other! Jacob had soundly lost! Jacob had fummed and even unleashed full barrel of his guns on near by barrel to shoot it into pieces but he then had agreed accompany him until he decides release him after single task. Now he was boiling under poor excuse of a blanket behind shaking car besides the very girl which had doomed him to his present debt! because of burning sun he had taken off his jacket, his shirt but he refused take off his cross despite it felt burning against his flesh in this heat! He wore still his pants and shoes. Altough covered in sweat he had not said not single word of complaint nor showing the heat on his body bothering him. His eyes at moment focused drill holes through the blanket as the girl besides him also undressed and to avoid sinful thoughts entering his mind he avoids look at her now.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nazora</strong> on <strong>02-12-2010, 02:49:40</strong>
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				"Alive and thirsty," Apryl said, passing Zeig her empty canteen through the back window.<br><br>It was a really small canteen, as she hadn't sold the expensive alcohol in the large canteen yet. She couldn't drink it, but she wasn't about to dump it before they came to a nice dry town where she could sell it cheaply. Apryl was sitting cross legged on her red trench coat with her back back cradled in her lap, near the back so she could be close to the driver, or as she now called him in her head, the guy with all the water. She was using the trench coat as a mat since the white blanket and her sunscreen protected her skin. The objective right now was keeping as cool as possible, so she was in her hiking shorts and the brown tank top shirt with a net top. The straps and ribbons she wore hung limply as her feet remained in-cased in hot and heavy steel toes that felt like they were made of lead. One thing she liked about being a smaller framed person without to much weight was the ability to keep cooler than the bigger guys in the stifling heat. A bit of sweat dripped down her brow and onto the backpack though, even with the movement of the vehicle creating a breeze and the shade of the blanket it was still like a sauna back there.<br><br>She had to give this Zeig guy credit. He had beat the preacher in a wager that she had also won some money on, gathered supplies, and found a vehicle in short order, all after her mentor had simply disappeared on her very discreetly like. It would have been less uncomfortable if this preacher man hadn't decided to come along though. She would have been able to lie down and take a nap in the truck bed if it wasn't for him, really. He seemed so awful focused at not looking her that she wondered if he she had the plague or really bad body odor. Apryl was about self conscious about her smell, she liked to be as clean as possible at all times and had taken a bath yesterday morning. So there was no way she could smell that freaking bad!<br><br>"I can't believe, I find the one person in the world I can really admire and they just ditch me as soon as I make my confession," she complained, "I've never seen anyone shoot like that before....."<br><br>She sighed, perhaps she'd have been nothing but a big burden anyway. And yet here she was, tagging along with these losers when she had enough assets to gamble away, including two golden guns. Heh, heh, the memory made her smile. While that fake was cowering on the floor half passed out in fear long after the danger was past she had lifted the other gun. It was nice to have a matching set, and they'd be much easier to get bullets for too, that was until she pawned them for a big wad of cash! There was only one gun that was dear to her heart, her grumpy old red revolver, and that's the way it would stay. The red gun hadn't left her side holster, while the gold guns were emptied of rounds and kept in her pack.<br><br>She turned back to glance with an annoyed expression.<br><br>"Can I have some more water please?" she asked again, "And are we soon there yet?"<br><br>Wherever it was the hell they were going, she hoped they got there soon, because she felt she'd soon have to pee.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shihong</strong> on <strong>09-12-2010, 15:14:47</strong>
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				Dry and lonely.&nbsp; That's what it was, that sandy stretch of sunburnt road in the middle of nowhere with nothing but sand dunes and vultures for company.&nbsp; If it had had a mind to, it would have surely shuddered and cried beneath the weight of many long, slow centuries of boredom and sameness.&nbsp; As it was the winds seemed to sigh from the tedium of mere existence, kicking up small whirlwinds that spat dust impotently into the air before settling down again in quiet mourning.&nbsp; For the first time in ages the road had some real company, but its company was in no condition to hold a proper conversation.<br><br>A horde of vultures, oily buzzards with scabby faces and unwholesome eyes, all clustered around a big 'ole lump of rusty metal half-submerged in a pit of sand.&nbsp; They squawked with irritation like a rabble of street hoodlums, all bluster but no brains, pecking at the thing like some over-sized tin can they were <em>certain</em> had delectable morsels inside to eat.&nbsp; But on closer inspection it wasn't just a pile of scrap.&nbsp; Oh no, this was something far more interesting, and far more dangerous.<br><br>It was a complex machine, a heavily armored behemoth whose massive metal hide bore the wear and tear of centuries, and in that it shared a common bond with the very road it sat beside.&nbsp; Four burly arms extended from the sides, connected by fleshy black joints and pistons and the like, ending in three-fingered manipulators.&nbsp; Half-buried as they were it seemed they were currently useless, and the way the nearby pavement cracked it was clear that the hulking robot had tried to struggle its way to freedom.&nbsp; All manner of guns and ornamentation were strapped to the outer hull, from machine pistols and rifles to crosses and tinsel.&nbsp; It was like some mobile gun store and religious shrine all in one, only the <em>mobile</em> part didn't seem to hold very true at the moment.<br><br>The thing emitted a low hum, half-heartedly shifting its great weight around in an attempt to convince the vultures to move on to easier prey.&nbsp; It was just one of those days.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dark Deception</strong> on <strong>09-12-2010, 23:12:56</strong>
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				The Gunslinger had his shoulders relaxed back into the seat and his head against the head rest. Hot and sweaty as before-mentioned, he felt his eyelids sink as they hovered dangerously at the horizon of his dark eyes. Apyrl’s voice sounded almost louder than it normally was when she dropped her canteen through the back window. Zieg’s brows furrowed deeply as he watched it plop onto the seat and stare at him with its gaping mouth as though he had some sort of obligation to do as she asked. <br><br>“I ain’t your water boy,” he grumbled. He then brought his eyes back to the road to see in the distance a strange formation that had numerous vultures congregating around it. Squinting his eyes through a rolling sheet of salt and sweat, The Gunslinger muttered, “What the?”<br><br><strong>Can I have some water please? And are we soon there yet?</strong><br><br>That had interrupted the Gunslinger’s thoughts as he whirled around to bark through the window, “I don’t have to get you shit, ya money-grubbin’ cuss! You worship Marilyn, thinkin’ she better than me. I taught that bitch how ta’ shoot, and if ya didn’t have shit for brains, you’dah known that I am <em>The</em> Best in the West. I ain’t gotta prove shit to you or that religious skirt back there with ya. You both can fry for all I care!”<br><br>Zieg turned back around grumbling and glanced down to the canteen as he then contradicted his protests by reaching down to feel around the floor for the water bottles. As he did so, a string of curses and loathing left his lips as his fingers felt the hot glass of a whiskey bottle, and then the plastic of a water bottle. Once he had it between his fingers, he pulled it up and peered down into the bag to notice his calendar was in there, and one of the days had been circled in red ink. The day wasn’t circled to mark the commencement of menstruation, but when it had been officially three weeks since he’s last had sex.<br><br>The Gunslinger grinned lecherously as he thought of Joanne. He had made sure to keep up with his calendar, and he’d have to circle the next day in the cycle some time. Glancing back to the road, just before the truck was an immense hunk of what the fuck? Zieg’s eyes widened in shock and his face paled upon realizing they had crossed the desert faster than he thought they would. He had forgotten the damn thing was even there!<br><br>“Shit!” the gunslinger cried. He jerked the wheel to the right, but was unable to swerve past the girth of the machine. The left side of the truck smashed into the statue and sent the vehicle leaping and spinning. Zieg’s teeth were clinched in panic as he braced himself against the truck’s speedy rotation until it finally jerked to a halt, leaving behind spirals of cloud. The truck didn’t suffer too much damage. The left headlight was smashed and the corner of the truck was smashed in like a can.<br><br>Thankful to be alive and slightly embarrassed, The Gunslinger sighed in relief and remained within his seat for a moment to allow his throbbing heart to settle. <em>Jesus Christ</em> he thought, and then popped open the door to reluctantly step out into the oven heat to inspect the front of the truck, and also curious to see what in the world he had hit. The sun was bearing down in its unforgiving glare and Zieg reached up to tilt his hat in the direction of the sun’s beams to give shade to his face. The truck hadn’t suffered too much damage. The left side was dented in as though it had gotten punched by an iron fist. The left headlight was busted, and the wheels seemed to be all right. After an ignorant glance at the damage with no real experience in mechanics, Zieg then turned to face the hulking object that was obscured by the dust screen. Hopefully a statue was all it was.<br><br><hr><br><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: impact;" class="bbc_font">Last Chance</span></span><br><br>Last Chance hadn’t been as lively as Dead Horse. There weren’t any guest appearances of a gunslinger or Best in the West, in fact, the late hours had drawn in a light crowd. In the back, the captain was sitting with his arms crossed upon the table surrounded by some cat agents that were donning grey, military coats that went down to the floor. The cats all wore hats tall and Russian in appearance to obscure their pointy ears and to avert any unwanted attention that may have looked their way. Amongst the four figures about the table was a young woman clad in the tight, black leather of a motorcycle suit. She was very thin with no hips and small breasts. Her face was tan like all the other desert walkers, her lips darkened with auburn lip stick and a small mole lingered just above the right corner of her lip. Her smooth, black hair was bound up into a high pony tail with spiraling ringlets cascading down the back of her head to stop just above the nape of her neck. Despite her body that most of the saloon rats had deemed unappetizing, the mysterious woman’s face was quite mysterious and alluring.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zaer Darkwail</strong> on <strong>12-12-2010, 15:04:50</strong>
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				Jacob was ignoring Gunslinger words, calmly meditating in heat when sudden jerk of the vechile made Jacob turn and roll on atop Apryl and hit his sides against burning hot metal! Jacob releases loud growl of pain when he rolls off her and holds his burned rib and shouts; "What in heaven's sake your doing devilspawn! Did you think brand our flesh with burning steel for your wicked amusement with that driving?!" Jacob rises up to his knees and he then sees the odd junk of metal in middle of road which their car had barely able to dodge. Jacob with grimaces comes to under burning haze of the sun topless to take closer look of the pile of metal. Upon seeing the vultures he goes fetch one his guns, in case if vultures decided go hostile to them. Would not be first time a swarm of vultures would had attacked people, when they are hungry.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nazora</strong> on <strong>12-12-2010, 22:19:34</strong>
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				Luckily she had been sitting crossed legged with her bag in her lap taking a drink of water. It would be hard to roll over top of her, that was until her coat slid and and sent down on her back with her canteen in her teeth. All the water poured down her throat her throat too fast for her to drink and face got soaked. But since the bag ll between her legs was now over her waist Jacob would probably be feeling more canvas and poking solid objects. Not that didn't hurt. She did her best to help push him off and into the unforgiving sun baked steel of the old pick-up. <br><br>Thanks to her coat, not one inch of her flesh was burnt in any way. Though it felt like Jacob had smashed the end of her bag into her womb. Thank God it wasn't her bladder, she really needed to find a rest room. Men had it so easy in this respect when out in the wild. It was just one more reason to hate them. She put her bag to the side and ran her trench coat through her arms, then she put on the broad brimmed hat with the veil and some white cotton gloves that ran up past her wrist. The sun was truley the worst possible enemy in the deserts of Eastwood. She looked a bit mysterious so well covered.<br><br>"I think that big old hunk of scrap metal is a good place to make a rest stop, seeing as we're here anyway," she said.<br><br>She jumped out of the back of the truck with her pack on her bag, she wasn't going to risk anyone making off with her loot. The metal robot seemed to stuck in a pit of soft sand and she would have loved to investigate further, but while soft sand made bad ground for heavy vehicles, it was a great litter box. She went behind the machine on the edge of the soft sand and squatted down, leaning in forward like she was examining it. Since she was draped in her coat and her hat covered most of her face, it would be hard to see her relieved expression. Geez, Jacob had really pressed her pack down into her abdomen when she landed on it, she wondered what he hit because the pain was getting worse. Then the expression on her face changed from relief to terror as her eyes widened.<br><br>"Oh shit......" 
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shihong</strong> on <strong>13-12-2010, 07:29:57</strong>
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				The truck, heavy and fast thought it was, hadn't left so much as a single mark on the metal behemoth's outer shell.&nbsp; Every inch of it was pitted with old wounds, a veritable tapestry of war etched into steel and ceramics with charred paints and explosives.&nbsp; If one were of the proper inclination and had the time, one could probably trace each and every one back to a time long before Gunslingers roamed the world alongside felines and reptiles, back when Man ruled over the world without equals, back when the world was green and full of life.&nbsp; But few were, and to dwell on it only sapped the soul.&nbsp; It was a nice dream, but dreams didn't account for much in the present.<br><br>Apryl didn't even get enough time to try writing her name in the sand before the buried machine--for machine it was--let off a sound like a foghorn getting strangled by an obese car salesman.<br><br><span style="font-family: IMPACT;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 36pt;" class="bbc_size">BLATT!</span></span><br><br>The whole ground rumbled as the thing struggled to heave its massive arms up out of the sand, no doubt thoroughly drenching Apryl in grit as each titan appendage reached desperately for the solid surface of the tarmac.&nbsp; The truck <em>had</em> managed to do something, and that was nudge it closer to stable ground.&nbsp; It just wasn't quite enough, and after a few seconds of scrabbling uselessly in the effort to heave its bulk out of the sinkhole it stopped, momentarily defeated.&nbsp; The machine whined like an old dog speaking through a faulty radio transmission.&nbsp; Just one of those days.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kaizen</strong> on <strong>13-12-2010, 21:23:19</strong>
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				<strong>The Blacksmith</strong> buying his way to the wildcat warehouse (and waiting for everyone else to arrive)<br><br>Clank thud clank thud, the sounds of Mason’s metal foot and boot made across the wooden plank floor of the saloon was the only sound heard.&nbsp; What few that were in the bar offered only a brief glance at Mason before returning to their own business.&nbsp; When the wildcats were around, the folks kept to themselves.&nbsp; Any eye contact was more than enough invitation for a wildcat to harass someone or worse.&nbsp; <br><br>Clank thud clank thud, the floorboards creaked under the weight of Mason’s metal chasis as he approached the wildcat’s table.&nbsp; A wildcat began to purr adding to the tension, Mason knew that it wasn’t always a good thing when the cat began to purr.&nbsp; Slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.&nbsp; He thumbed a few bills out and laid it on the table.&nbsp; The price for admission and safe passage to the warehouse, Mason hated paying the toll but it was the only way to get the good stuff.&nbsp; He was done with picking through junkyards for scrap.&nbsp; If he wanted quality, he knew where to go and he had to pay for it, dearly.<br><br>On edge, Mason gave the wildcats his best emotionless stone stare.&nbsp; Their eyes freaked him out the most, yellow with those vertical slits... He didn’t trust the damned abominations, freaks of nature is what he thought of them at best.&nbsp; The woman at the table was an odd sight, but he didn’t question her, it wasn’t any of his business.&nbsp; He just wanted to get his shit from the warehouse and get out.&nbsp; A wildcat scooped up the money, counted it and then handed it to the captain.&nbsp; Once he got the captain’s nod, Mason excused himself to the bar. Clank thud clank thud.<br><br>“Hey, whar’s Rosie?” he asked the barkeep.&nbsp; Rosie was a whore, plain and simple.&nbsp; Almost as ugly as Mason himself, he supposed that’s why he liked her.&nbsp; It was a shame what those damn cat’s had done to her, and added with the harsh desert environment, the desert flower that was Rosie, had wilted and lost it’s beauty, but she was still as spicy as she ever was.<br><br>“Ain’t here” was all the bartender said about the matter, “what ya drinkin?”<br><br>“Water, an some 50 weight if ya got it.” Mason said.<br><br>He knew the routine, the wildcats didn’t move until after dark.&nbsp; They kept the warehouse a secret and for good reason too.&nbsp; Every time he visited the place, he was blindfolded and hogtied.&nbsp; Not that he couldn’t break out of the restraints easily, but if he was going to the warehouse, he had to play by the cat’s rules.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dark Deception</strong> on <strong>15-12-2010, 05:21:16</strong>
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				The Gunslinger arched the right corner of his lip as he then uttered a, “Psh,” to the priest’s scolding. It was more like a lashing with the way he spoke. His words weren’t even good enough to be <em>High Speech</em>. The dust settled and Zieg squinted his eyes through the drops of sweat that threatened to drip from his brows into his eyes. The hunk of metal the truck had collided with was actually some strange contraption half-buried in the desert waste.<br><br>Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand again, he watched Apryl ignorantly amble over to the machine to pop a squat. <strong> I think that big old hunk of scrap metal is a good place to make a rest stop, seeing as we're here anyway</strong>.<br><br>“I suppose so,” The Gunslinger replied softly. He was still studying the clanker. The way the dust had collected on it: its scars, dents, scratches, and smudges. It looked like a device of war from the old ages. If there had been any place she should have taken a shit or piss—he didn’t know and didn’t care—it should have been behind the truck than some old, piece of scrap. It gave him an awkward feeling that he couldn’t put a finger on, but it made him feel cautious.<br><br>Suddenly, as soon as Apryl disappeared behind the machine, it bellowed into the silence of the desert and The Gunslinger’s hand acted on its own. His hand seemed to have had disappeared from its descent to his left holster, and then its ascent with his Wilson revolver. The Gunslinger returned a loud <em>kapow</em> with his gun that sent a normal round, sparking with a resonating <em>pew</em> off the rounded cranium of the machine. Zieg was silent as his eyes were locked in the focused state most Gunslinger’s fell into. It was a trance of accuracy as every sense heightened to heed the rapid orders of the brain. His eyes were wide and tense, and his jaw was clinched tightly together behind his lips.<br><br>The whines and whirrs of the machine trying to free itself was what brought The Gunslinger out of his fixed state. Zieg’s stern expression softened as his cheeks and jaw loosened up, and he blinked his eyes in surprise to see that the machine had not retaliated. He watched it trying to pull its massive arms from the dirt, and then softly blushed, feeling embarrassed to have been startled so much by the its blare.<br><br>“Well, what do you know? It’s stuck,” Zieg obviously noted. He smiled sheepishly as he returned his gun into its holster. Brushing his embarrassment aside, he approached the awkward bot, and then glanced down at its arms. “Aw…stuck?” he asked it as though it actually understood him. The Gunslinger then grinned deviously and grasped his chin in thought. “This thing is quite the antique. I’m sure it’ll be worth at least ten grand.” It would make up for the money Joanne had stolen back. “It looks like it still works too, whatever it used to do.” He kicked at its left arm twice before lowering his boot back to the golden turf. “Telling by the damage it’s taken over the years, this thing may have been used for war.” He then puckered his lips and frowned—a strange and childish expression—as his thoughts became more of a puzzle. “But what is this piece of shit doing here? It couldn’t be that the sands had worn away at the earth long enough to uncover it?” If that had been the truth, then that was amazing. It was like finding unburied treasure.<br><br><hr><br><span style="font-family: Impact;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Last Chance</span></span><br><br>The Captain pocketed the cash though kept a slit eye on the cyborg as he thumped over to the bar. The mysterious woman cast her curious, brown eyes to the captain as she questioned, “He work for you?”<br><br>The Captain took up his warm mug of milk in his leather-clad hand, and answered, “Jus feedr.” He then brought it to his fuzzy maw to guzzle it down like a cold, glass of beer. The woman continued to watch The Captain. Her elbows had rested on the table and she had interlaced her fingers to provide a resting place for her chin. Though the felines around her could be just as ferocious as lions if provoked, she couldn’t help but think that their mannerisms were absolutely adorable. The way they drank milk and purred was cuter than the belching and farting of her last clients. Several times, she had to suppress the urge to scratch beneath the chin of the man next to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched his tail poke out from beneath his military coat to whip about like a black cane. It put a soft smile on her plump lips.<br><br>“So, how long do you plan to stay gentlemen? If this female gunslinger is after you, then wouldn’t staying here give her the time she needs to track you down?” the woman asked.<br><br>The Captain lowered his empty mug as his pink tongue licked at the milk moustache on his black muzzle. “I R not worrid ‘bout dat bish. No wan can fwind teh Wild Kat Hideout, an it ur job two taek care ov anywan dat dare fowo us. U R an assassin R U not?”<br><br>The woman smiled playfully as she finally gave into her urges and reached out to press her manicured nails beneath the chin of the Cat next to her. She scratched softly with her nails, watching as The Captain’s henchman irresistibly began purring loudly. His long, pointy ears folded back against his head and he raised his chin, stretching out his neck as his claws tore through the tips of his leather gloves to drag along the tabletop. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be, sug’,” she cooed.<br><br>The Captain arched a feline-like brow at the henchman, and from the barely open slits in his eyes, he noticed the captain’s displeasure. It made the henchman’s tail stiffen in fright. It wasn’t like he could help it! Snagging the assassin’s wrist, he removed her hand from his chin and turned his head to flash his jagged rows of teeth at her. A threatening hiss left the Cat’s throat that had enough hot breath behind it to blow back her spiraled bangs.<br><br>“Sorry babe, I couldn’t resist,” the assassin apologized. “Give a girl a break.”<br><br>The henchman released her, and the captain slid back in his chair and stood. “I bleev we shud leef nao. Gud dai, Iris,” The Captain bade. His three associates then rose after him to follow him outside to the jeep.<br><br>Iris, as she was called, watched the men leave and returned to unenthusiastically resting her chin in her hands. She sighed softly, “What to do now?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shihong</strong> on <strong>15-12-2010, 06:03:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The more the Gunslinger went on about <em>scrap metal</em> and <em>pieces of shit</em>, the more he looked down at the massive machine with those faux-concerned eyes that couldn't quite conceal the greed that the mention of ten grand was liable to bring on, the more he <em>kicked</em> or <em>poked</em> at it, the stiller it seemed to become.&nbsp; At last it made not a single sound, and for a moment they were all likely to think its old engine had finally shut down for good.<br><br><span style="font-size: 36pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: impact;" class="bbc_font">THRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!</span></span><br><br>It was like a peal of mountainous thunder, a rolling wave of noise and vibration that made the nearby road crack open like a picked scab and the sand explode up into the sky like a grenade had gone off just beneath their feet.&nbsp; The robot planted his mighty arms in what remained of the road and <em>heaved</em> with every last ton of its titanic strength until the metal plating shrieked from the effort, and in one last earth-shattering sound it rolled up out of the sinkhole and lumbered onto its feet.<br><br>If the thing had looked big in the ground, it was nothing compared to how it looked now that it was standing on equal footing with the rest of them.&nbsp; The thing was just about as big as the truck they'd rode in on, strapped with more guns and religious paraphernalia than a militarized church, and quaking with the same sort of fury as a man who just got slapped in the face by a child.&nbsp; But instead of leveling a single weapon their way, two smaller arms detached from the main bulk and dusted the sand off a smaller device hooked up to the frontward casing: a weathered old typewriter that looked about as beat up as its owner.<br><br>It typed rapidly, far quicker than most mortal hands could muster, until the scroll dinged.&nbsp; It snatched the sheet of sturdy paper, then turned it around so the rest of them could read it.<br><br><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"I am not property, least of all yours.&nbsp; Neither am I excrement."</span><br><br>The machine crumbled the paper and threw it impudently at the Gunslinger's head, then went back to typing furiously.&nbsp; The second message was far more blunt.<br><br><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"I do not like you."</span><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nazora</strong> on <strong>16-12-2010, 09:37:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It moved, and there wasn't much of a damn thing she could do about it. It tossed a wave of sand at her that almost knocked her over. Her nose, her teeth, her eyes, and her pony tail all got some. Luckily her coat offered protection for the rest of her body. But she could feel it seeping down her neck into her coat. A bullet would probably just ricochet right off it so she didn't bother trying to draw her gun in the middle of a piss. But she heard Zieg's shot at it.<br><br>"What the hell are you doing over there!" Apryl screamed, "Are you trying to kill me!"<br><br>She really didn't want to move until it was done and the movement didn't seem to be in response or coming after her. So she finished, as fast as she could, but she finished and pulled her shorts panties up faster than she ever did in her life. Then she grabbed her pack and backed away from it what seemed like a good distance, maybe about three meters. Plus, her feet were away from the sand sink and on firmer ground. Her breath was ragged and her face was red. Nothing was worse than being shot at and having sand thrown in your face when you were trying to take a piss. In all the commotion, she had forgotten about the little cramps in her abdomen, until she felt another one. Not much that could done for it though, any chance to do anything discreetly had really just flown out the window. Although she did have time to turn around for a minute and pull something from a coat pocket, the items were covered with sand. She threw them on them ground, now she was really pissed. But she couldn't even say why!<br><br>"ARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" she screamed, ruffling her hair and almost losing her hat, "You bastards I ought to kill every last one of you!"<br><br>She walked toward Zieg, pulling the brim of her hat down to keep her face out of the sun.<br><br>"Are you an imbecile, how do you propose to drag that thing anywhere," she said, "What the hell if it starts moving again? And what was the point of shooting it, is a freaking bullet your solution for everything!"<br><br>She was walking back to the bed of the truck grumbling something under her breath when the mechanical thing made a very loud noise and shook the earth with its break for freedom. Eyes wide with a mix of fear and amazement, she did a one hundred and eighty degree turn to face the machine. Instinct told her to start looking for a potential weak spot in that things armor; it also told her they were fucked if that thing was about to get serious. There just weren't enough places to take cover! Luckily, it pulled out a type writer instead of a gun, because at this point Apryl had a very itchy trigger finger.<br><br>"I suppose it told you," Apryl giggled.<br><br>This thing was, if anything else, very funny. From the looks of it, it might have been Catholic. At least it was talking, sort of, instead of shooting. Feeling courageous, she walked right up to it and flicked the metal with her finger to see if it was hollow inside.<br><br>"Well now, I suppose we aren't too fond of you either," she said with a crooked grin.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zaer Darkwail</strong> on <strong>16-12-2010, 17:48:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob had watched in wonder when the machine started move but gunslinger was faster than him fire shot at it and see bullet had no effect on it! It detained from Jacob wasting bullets and instead keep the gun close at hand but not pulled out yet. When the machine writes the texts Jacob laughs on latest one and says; "That if anything tells me there is soul sleeping inside that machine. <em>'Do not be misled: 'Bad company corrupts good character.'</em> Corinthians." Jacob eyes the religious scriptures and he starts study them up closer, not go too close or touch the machine, but coming closer to look them more carefully to try make them out and he then asks from machine; "What's your name? Are you following ways of Jesus?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shihong</strong> on <strong>16-12-2010, 18:25:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The great machine seemed to stare between the Gunslinger and Apryl for a moment--at least as much as something without eyes could stare--as though it were trying to decide which of the two was more bothersome.&nbsp; The former had shot at him and decried it as nothing more than trash, and the latter had nearly relieved herself onto its metal exterior, to say nothing of the way she kept prodding at it like some sideshow curiosity.&nbsp; The thing seemed rather glad at the sight of Jacob, all of its frustrated rumblings smoothing out into something resembling the melodic tones of a xylophone.<br><br><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">""The name of the LORD is a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are safe.&nbsp; Proverbs 18:10" </span> the next message said, and rather than crumpling the sheet up he handed it to the far more courteous man.&nbsp; <span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"I am Kithless, for I am alone.&nbsp; But I am also a haven for those most in need of one.&nbsp; I follow only what sounds True and Just to me--others grant unto me symbols of their Faith, and I shall be that symbol to them when called upon."</span><br><br>Kithless steadied himself, shaking another small layer of dust from his body as he stood tall and proud over the three travelers and pointed to the hole from whence he had risen.&nbsp; Only now would they notice the pulped, chitinous remains of what had once been an Antlion.&nbsp; The fiendish thing must have been at least five feet long, and what remained of its mandibles easily dwarfed a man's arm.<br><br><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"I was wandering, as I am wont to do, and foolishly stumbled into the trap of one who was expecting softer prey."</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dark Deception</strong> on <strong>06-01-2011, 20:38:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>What the hell are you doing over there! Are you trying to kill me!</strong><br><br>Zieg growled and snapped, "It was a mistake. I ain't miss so I wouldn't had killed ya! You shouldn't be pissin' on somethin' still alive anyhow!"<br><br>He scowled as Apryl threw a tantrum and muttered, "I think you need to calm down," before she then screamed in his face. Damn women; and this was why they sometimes got on his nerves. "If I can't take the whole thing, then I'll take a piece of it! I'm sure one of them arms can fit in the truck. Hell, I rather take a piece of this thing than havin’ you two numbskulls with me any day!" He glared at her as she stormed over to the truck and then turned back around to glower at the machine.<br><br>The machine roared and The Gunslinger jumped like a startled cat. He backed away from the bot, his eyes glancing frantically to the sheets of dirt that shook to the vibrations that were bombarding the earth. The ground then exploded as the robot's arms launched into the sky before coming down like hammers. Zieg continued to hop backwards, using his arm to shield his face from the flying chunks of dirt clots and sand stone. With another explosion that was milder than the first, the automaton hefted its body out of the earth as it rose like a titan to dwarf the three bystanders.<br>"Holy shit!" Zieg exclaimed. "It's loose!" He continued to back up, expecting the machine to turn its Gatling gun on him, but instead saw its tiny hands begin typing away on a typewriter. The Gunslinger watched obliviously the scroll that rose out of the small machine, and how the robot ripped it free to show him what it wrote. Zieg squint his eyes to read it since he was at a distance and the dust clouds were still churning. He then blinked in startle when the piece of paper was lobbed at his forehead. The consecutive report reading: <em>I do not like you</em>.<br><br>The Gunslinger wrinkled his nose at the machine and his face flushed in anger. "I ain't care if you don't like me. Yer a piece of shit! Well now, you can walk, <em>whoop-di-doo</em>. You need to come with us, so I can see where I can sell ya." He then heard the preacher preaching to it. He whirled on the man and his hand swung with every intention to meet with his cheek. "Have you lost yer damn mind? Seriously; are you on the Devil Grass and ain't tellin' me? It's just a bot!" Zieg roared as he pointed back at the machine.<br><br>The Gunslinger then turned around to hear the thing purring like a kitten at the sound of the priest's voice. He watched him print off series after series of pages. "Kithless? What the hell kind of name is that?" Zieg queried. He looked to the ant lion hole and walked closer to inspect the smashed bug. As he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling thankful that the bot had been there instead, he looked back at Kithless with a much softer face though he was still scowling. <br><br>"...I guess we were lucky to find you then instead of that," he confessed. "An ant lion would have killed us all if its pinchers got a hold of the truck."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nazora</strong> on <strong>09-01-2011, 04:28:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				So he would actually leave her in the desert with that lecherous priest, after all she had done for him he would actually consider that of all things. It mad her so angry she wanted to shoot all the tires on the truck, and then it made her want to cry, but she got over that rather quickly and simply kept it all to herself.<br><br>After the preacher started and it responded favorably she was more confused than ever but also in awe. The big war machine was a fellow believer, but it was also an inanimate object. She had been taught that inanimate objects had no souls. Something was wrong here, it was also mysterious. How could something robotic have a soul, especially since robots were crafted by humanity. <br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Have you lost yer damn mind? Seriously; are you on the Devil Grass and ain't tellin' me? It's just a bot!"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div> <br><br>That snapped her out of her contemplation, after all, Zeig was still intent on selling the poor thing. She looked at him angrily, he was just so heartless.<br><br>"You can't sell this machine shit fer brains," she said, "Because it's mine, I was the first one to touch it so I lay claim to it! And I ain't selling it, I'm keeping it! Mine!"<br><br>She then turned to Kithless and stretched her arms for as much of a hug she could possibly give it. This thing was a gold mine, she could use it as a body guard, a landscaper, maybe hire it out to do heavy labor, a taxi, hell, the business potential was unlimited. She'd never have to lift a finger again and could become a true lady of leisure and gamble whenever she wanted while her loving bot did the work. Suddenly she was drooling and looking up with Kithless, her big eyes looking like throbbing hearts for a moment.<br><br>"I..... love you....." she said. <br><br>She was way too lost in her fantasy to think of anything else at the moment.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zaer Darkwail</strong> on <strong>27-01-2011, 22:42:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob saw Guslinger slap coming, he quickly dodged it and heard his accusations and he replied; "Machine would have no purpose know teachings of the lord nor acknowlegde itself as follower. So there where is free mind there rests also soul, soul does not need skin, bone, blood or flesh to exchist. Only what matter is can you think and feel. I presume Kithless can feel as it does not like you and machines which are mere tools do not have opinion of their owners."<br><br>Jacob returned to Kithless, looking rather disturped see Apryl hug it with dreamy look in her eyes......<br><br><em>What she is dreamign about? Hopefully not sinful thougths.</em><br><br>Jacob then replied to Kithless; "So what you said you sound like a crusader of LORD. Travel the wastes and help those of need and doing god's good work and your decorated in gratitude of those whom you have served."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dark Deception</strong> on <strong>18-02-2011, 09:59:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The robot had gone silent and still. Zieg continued to stand there with his hand wiping the salt and sweat that was collecting on the back of his neck and running from his sideburns until the mech’s lack of response dawned on him. Kithless had become unresponsive. The Gunslinger’s left brow slowly rose as his cough-drop eyes cautiously rolled over the machine. Silence; lack of movement; no other form of response; yep, the golem was gone. Zieg dropped his hand and leapt toward the machine. He swung his left foot up and thrust it outwards to slam into the mechanical shin of the bot. For a transhuman or ascended human, the kick was stronger than that of the average man, and although Kithless weighed a ton to make such a strike seem ineffective, the sand cracked beneath the robot’s feet. The grains began to flow like water back into the ant lion hole until a shelf about the hole broke and Kithless went sinking like a ship back into the pit.<br><br>Zieg had practically wiped his hands clean and did away with his confession. “It’s too damn hot to be wastin’ time out here,” he grumbled in aggravation. He marched back over to the truck with every intention to abandon The Gambler and The Priest if they wished to stand about the ant lion hole and mourn the shortage of the metal Christian. “’Thing was always a piece of shit.”<br><br>Wrenching open the truck door, Zieg slipped back into the seat and the shade of the truck roof. He wasn’t sure how many hours it would take for them to find some form of civilization, but he thought the Cats had to make a pit stop somewhere. If there was anyone suffering in this heat, it was a furry animal.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nazora</strong> on <strong>26-02-2011, 19:44:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Apryl sighed as the bot just suddenly became inactive. She blinked a few time and lost interest before anyone else. She grabbed her bag with one hand and readjusted her hat with the other while heading back towards the truck. All her dreams of increased profit margins for use at the casinos of Eastwood shattered in her mind. That plus the fact she could feel herself approaching her own time of the month made her doubly miserable. She was opening the passenger side door when Seig decided to be stupid and kick the robot , causing the ground to collapse and sending it sliding back into the ant lion pit. By the time he was done fooling around she had all the supplies on the passenger seat cleared to the bed of the truck and was sitting shotgun with her bag in her lap. There wasn't much flesh to see, despite the heat that big coat was draped over her body like an awning. She didn't bother to take the hat off either. In fact, there wasn't an inch of her skin directly exposed to the sun. It was hard for a working girl to keep the skin quality of a noble, but she was determined to do so. The fact that she burned to a crisp rather quickly helped her keep true to her regiment. As Zeig got in the truck she took a few more sips of his water and smiled at him.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“’Thing was always a piece of shit.”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>"I reckon you're right about that now," she said, "Thanks for the water partner. I'm riding shotgun for awhile if you don't mind. Try anything funny and I'll pull them eyes out of your sockets."<br><br>Apryl turned back to the priest.<br><br>"Are ya'll right back there? Ya look kind of hot, why don't ya lay down a spell. plenty of room for it."<br><br>They didn't know it but she was rather enjoying her company despite everything. As she waited for him to turn the key she felt a cramp well up in her lower abdomen. Sitting in the back and jostling all over the place would not bode well for her. Apryl just had to hope the gunslinger didn't complain about it, but even if he did, she had no intentions of going anywhere. She had no intentions of leaving the water alone either. This was a vital time for her, she needed to stay hydrated.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Gunslinger: Episode Two: Nine Lives Too Many</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Zaer Darkwail</strong> on <strong>27-02-2011, 02:02:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob wondered while for lack of response, until he realizes Kithless had turned offline. He frowned when Gunslinger just kicked it back down to the dust pit and when he fell he said; "Sorry ancient one, I hope you get up again continue your journeys." When Gunslinger moved to the truck and heard Apryl's words, he had engraced short sentence from his own bible to Kithless. Add his own addition to the Kithless numerous marks. He takes simple carving knife off and leaps to back of the car, now plenty space to lay down under the tent cover he relaxes and tries reduce heat syndrome kicking in to his body.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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