Realistic or Modern Ghost Riders: a Wild West Adventure RP

[Dalamus Ulom]

(Use the above links to go to OOC and CC)


It has been two years since the American Civil War ended. Two years since America was split between north and south, when brother fought brother, and thousands died. Now, outlaws, settlers, innocents, monsters, and more are all heading west, into the Great Plains and farther, even as far as the coast of the Pacific ocean. However, it isn't peacful. Robbings, murders, lynchings, and more happen everyday, and now the United States wants to put its boot down, and end this chaos. In their stead, a U.S. Marshall by the name of Conrad Norisson has been sent to find and hunt down a single man, and has been told to use any means nescessary to protect the country.  Now, he's looking for conscripts...


(RP HAS BEEN STARTED! Ya-HOOO!)


@Jeda Teq @Maxilgal @Jack in the Box @NemoTheSurvivor

 

[Dalamus Ulom]

In the town of El Paso, a man slowly rode in from the southside, slowly looking all around. Two big irons on his hips, and a hat on his head, and the faintest glint of shining metal on his chest. The whisper from each lip said that he was an outlaw, loose and running, and he was here to do some business with the big irons on his hips. Getting off his horse at the post office, he walked up to the wanted board, pulled out a paper, hammer, and a single nail. After a few taps and a few moments, he would step away, and the paper read:

[SIZE= 18px]Help Wanted[/SIZE]
​

[SIZE= 18px]To Track Dangerous Criminal[/SIZE]
​

[SIZE= 18px]Abbadon Sinclair[/SIZE]
​

 
​

[SIZE= 18px]Reward: $1,000 and an official pardon for any crimes committed within the United States of America and its Territories[/SIZE]
​

 

[Dalamus Ulom]

@Jeda Teq @Maxilgal @Jack in the Box @NemoTheSurvivor

 

[Jeda Teq]

"'Dey say the job of a hang man brings justice." Romaine sat outside the pub by a window. As he counted his bullets, he was served a strong drink in an obviously diry glass through the window. "I say's it ain't justice if a man's only crime is be'n black." He holstered his gun and put the remainder of his bullets in his belt. He waved his hand at the drink, denying it. It was almost noon. The town folk were gathered around the gallows eager to watch a man hang for his crimes. "I dun plan on stick'n 'round here much longer." 


A man hammering nail into the wanted board caught Romaine's attention. "Dis may be mah reason fuh leave'n." He rose from his seat and walked towards the board. On his way there he took a toothpick from a matchbox and put it in his mouth. Standing beside the man who had just posted Romaine read it. The Young Misses taught him this much between their fooling around sessions.


"Dat's a might fine bounty there, Sir. Ya think that pardon can come with Forty acres and a Mule." he laughed, "That was a joke. I gots no need fo' all dat land. Ma' name's Romaine," he reached his hand out for a shake, "Ya got any leads on dis Abbadon fella? I hear he's a real bad apple."


@Dalamus Ulom

 

[Maxilgal]

[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Maureen’s hand slammed down on the table, causing her ‘cousin’ Jem to jump.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“I am not, giving you control of that ranch. My daddy built it up with his bare hands, protected it from fire and all kinds of storm, and the second we get some good wheat harvests you wanna come in and take it?” She sat back down, giving an annoyed ‘hmmph’ as she did so. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“Hahaha. My dear...I know we have had our...differences,” her Uncle smacked. His long, bony hands pushed forward a paper to her. She took it gingerly and began reading. “But my dear, you can’t handle that ranch. A...lady,” he smirked at the word, almost laughing at her, “like yourself can’t manage all of that…Your father realized that and signed it over to me.”[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“My father...my father is sick! He can’t make good decisions on his own.”[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“Your daddy signed it over, with his mind straight. He’s gone and left me the farm, and the stables. I’m your guardian, and you’re goin’ to sit down and finally be a lady!” Maureen felt like she was swirling into a black hole.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“Get out of my house. My daddy’s body isn’t even cold yet.”[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“Hmmph. G’day, Ms. Kane.”[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]“Mr. Gleeson. Jem…” She watched as they left her house, stomping out. When the door closed once again, she sat down, a wash of reddish-brown hair falling over her hands. The bells began to ring. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]One.[/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px] What was she going to do?[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Two. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Her father was dead...she’s all alone.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Three. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Maureen stood from the table and put on her coat. She needed some fresh air to think. She turned from the house and began walking down the dusty street.[/SIZE]

 

[Dalamus Ulom]

"'Dey say the job of a hang man brings justice." Romaine sat outside the pub by a window. As he counted his bullets, he was served a strong drink in an obviously diry glass through the window. "I say's it ain't justice if a man's only crime is be'n black." He holstered his gun and put the remainder of his bullets in his belt. He waved his hand at the drink, denying it. It was almost noon. The town folk were gathered around the gallows eager to watch a man hang for his crimes. "I dun plan on stick'n 'round here much longer." 


A man hammering nail into the wanted board caught Romaine's attention. "Dis may be mah reason fuh leave'n." He rose from his seat and walked towards the board. On his way there he took a toothpick from a matchbox and put it in his mouth. Standing beside the man who had just posted Romaine read it. The Young Misses taught him this much between their fooling around sessions.


"Dat's a might fine bounty there, Sir. Ya think that pardon can come with Forty acres and a Mule." he laughed, "That was a joke. I gots no need fo' all dat land. Ma' name's Romaine," he reached his hand out for a shake, "Ya got any leads on dis Abbadon fella? I hear he's a real bad apple."


@Dalamus Ulom

Drew as he set his poker cards down. "Straight," he said, his smile in his voice.


"How in the hell?" one of the other players asked, towing his pair on the table.


As Drew pulled the coins and bills towards him, another said, "I suggest you take the bandana off if you want to keep playing, mister."


"You knew the risk playing poker against a guy when you couldn't see his face," Drew said. He glanced up as a man entered the saloon. The badge pinned on his chest meant trouble. "Though I think I'm done playing cards." A murmur started up outside, attracting several of the bounty hunters in the saloon. After they came back in, shaking their heads, Drew decided to investigate. "Yep, I'm out." He stood, tipped his hat, and walked outside.


Several people gathered around a piece of paper nailed to the saloon's wall. Judging from the sounds, the bounty was a big one, though nobody seemed keen on taking it. Once Drew caught a glimpse of the bounty, he understood why. Abbadon Sinclair. No wonder there's no takers. As Drew stole more glances at the paper, he saw the reward. A grand plus a full pardon? How bad do they want Abbadon? And how bad do I want the reward? After a moment's hesitation, Drew walked back into the saloon to find the lawman.

The lawman would turn to the black man, and reveal the metal glint on his chest, prooving him to be a U.S. Marshall. He would shake the black mans hand, and say, "Mighty fine to meet you, Romaine. The name's Norrison. Conrad Norrison." Norrison would treat the negro with a bit more respect then most people would normally. "Only one lead, really, and that's that he's heading this way. And saying he's a bad apple is putting it lightly. The man's stark raving mad. He's already got over 40 notches on his pistol, and is planning on adding more. And if you decide to back out of this, I certainly wouldn't put it past you." he said, still standing outside.


@Jeda Teq @NemoTheSurvivor

 

[Jeda Teq]

"Pleasure is main, Norrison." Crossed his arms as he listened to Conrad speak. The way the law man spoke of situation made this bounty seem a bit odd. "Body count dun' make a man. A bullet square'n da eye'll make'em dead jus like you'n me." He put his right on on his cartridge belt with his thumb behind it. Shifting his weight, Romaine looked at the entrance of the city where the law man had came from. "Know'n he's headed 'bout dis way gives me da drop on'em. 'Sides, a fella like him prolly pay no nevamind to a boy a'color. I ain't back'n down. Tho, one thing concerns me."He looked back to the bount board then placed his left index finger on the posted paper, "I dun know what da bastard looks like."


The clock struck twelve and the bell in the church began to ring. The Preacher at the gallows said a prayer. On the twelth gong of the bell the Hangman pulled the lever. The platform below the blackman's feet gave way and the town folk watched the 'criminal' hang for his 'crimes'. Romaine's face twisted at the sight, "Maybe di town'll actually hang a man who deserves it next time."


@Dalamus Ulom