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Fantasy Magic In the West {1x1 w/ Gray Sage}

Koraki

Your friendly neighborhood Eldritch Being
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★★★
The year is 1866, the height of the Wild West. There are few laws, and many people
looking to forge their own path. Most humans live in blissful ignorance, unaware of the
magic that courses like blood in the veins of the earth. The magical society wants to keep
it that way. But when a small number of bad rich men catch wind of a powerful magical
artifact, the magic and the mundane cross paths in the form of a bounty hunter and a
shadow mage. Can these two unlikely allies find the powerful artifact, or will it fall into

greedy, power-hungry hands?

Cast:
Maria ‘Sings to Fire’ Gloriana Mendoza De la Castillo, played by Gray Sage
Name: Maria ‘Sings to Fire’ Gloriana Mendoza De la Castillo
Age: 25
Height: 5’7
Occupation: Bounty Hunter, gunslinger, smuggler, retired cowgirl
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History: Maria was born to a Sioux mother and a Mexican father. Though she grew up in the mountains of Montana with her Sioux tribe, when she was 11, her father reclaimed her and her mother and took them to his estate in Mexico. Her father, Bernardo, came from old money, had a established family name, and made a fortune driving cattle.

Throughout her teenage years, with her father was complicated. She both loved and hated him, because he gave her an outstanding education, including English language, swordplay and self defense, mathematics, healing remedies, reading and writing, to the most important of all, tracking and cattle rearing.

Her mother made many attempts to escape her husband and bring Maria with her, but after they failed, her mother decided to leave Maria behind, and was never seen again. This filled Maria with a bitterness that she carried into adulthood. But she proved to be a natural at cattle driving, and went on many trips from the south to the north with her father, other cowboys, and 2,000 cows.

Bernardo suffered a heart attack on one of their drives, leaving everything to Maria. But, she detested the villa, and the tedious nature of running an estate. Isadora was the woman who practically raised her after Maria's mother left, and the only person Maria considers family. Maria put Isadora in charge of keeping up the house and employing the staff while she often went on cattle drives, always becoming the undisputed leader of whatever group she was a part of.

As the years went on, the nature of her work changed. She grew bored with cattle, and when the opportunity arose to change course, she took it, tracking down her first outlaw, Bungalow Joe, and making quite the name for herself.

Many of the jobs she did ended not in capture, but in killing. She became known as Bloody Mary, as her legend quickly grew with the number of finds she made, and her fortune grew considerably as she traveled all over the west, from San Diego, to Salt Lake City, to El Paso. She rarely returned to the villa, but sent them much of her earnings. She ventured into a few illegal passtimes, smuggling runaway slaves, stolen firearms, or anti-American propaganda, but she had no loyalties.

Silas Myers, played by Koraki
 
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Maria flipped her wet hair up so it slapped against her back. She brought a handful of the water to rub down her face, taking the sweat and dirt from her brow with it. The freshness of the little stream gave her new life after traveling in the desert for so long. She wiped her arms again, cleaning under her fingernails and letting the current take the dust of her travels with it.

Frida neighed beside her, as if rolling her eyes at Maria’s dramatic washing habits.

“Oh shut up.” Maria splashed some water at the horse. “We should make it to the city today, and we have to make a good impression. Hopefully no one around here has heard about our last screw up.” The horse blinked at her. “Ok, my screw up.” She wondered what she would do if they decided not to hire her. She couldn’t afford to lose a case. Not with the way her last few cases had gone. Maybe she was losing her touch?

She threw her bandana down into the water to wash it, the running water paining her joints as she scrubbed the fabric. Despite the hot morning, she wanted to bathe and wash her clothes before she got into town where it would cost something to get clean. She was running low on funds, maybe another couple of weeks worth of traveling left in her pocket, and with her losing streak she didn’t want to risk gambling. Of course… she did know how to pickpocket…

She slapped the handkerchief in the water again at the thought. She didn’t like that she entertained thoughts like that, but she wasn’t about to be desperate. She shivered after awhile, hanging her wet clothes on the branch of a barren looking tree, hoping the breeze would dry them before noon. She reached into her pack, grabbing a small comb and a bruised apple for breakfast. She brushed through her wet, tangled hair pulling it into two long braids, draped over her shoulders. Whenever she wore her hair like this she felt it brought out the Indian in her features.

Maria munched on her apple while Frida sought out whatever grass she could find, as the landscape was slowly morphing from rough and tumble to greener terrain. She anxiously pondered the results of this meeting. How would this so-called Mister Avery receive her? She shifted uncomfortably in the dirt. Still, from what she could remember of the city, it played fast and loose in corruption, so whatever this important Baron wanted her to find, she wondered if it would bring her morals into question. But whatever it was, it was sure to bring a handsome reward.

The morning dragged on and the sun grew warmer. By her account, they would reach the city by the evening. Her efforts to clean would probably have a coat of dust on them by then, but at least it wasn’t a week’s worth. Once her trousers, tunic, socks, bandana, and undergarments were dried, she pulled out her chewstick and pine needles to clean her teeth, a habit strictly observed by her tribe that she had never forgotten. She even took the time to clean her rifle and percussion revolver. Refilling her canteens with water from the brook, she laced Frida with her pack and supplies. Finally, topping her head with her hat, strapping her rifle to her back and revolver at her hip, she turned to Frida.

“Are you ready for this?” She asked. The horse stayed silent, looking at Maria with her shiny black eyes. “Yeah, me either.” Maria mounted the mare and gently kicked her spurs to set her on course. They took off in a spry gallop, riding east, straight for the smoggy outline of Sante Fe.
 
Silas hated the heat.

The sun beat down on the desert landscape. Everything was bright and burning - from the clear blue sky to the red and orange mountains that dotted the horizon. Dust swirled around him and his horse as he trotted down the dirt road. Sweat dripped down his neck and Silas grit his teeth. He hated the heat.

Normally he wouldn't even be travelling during the day, especially around noon, when the shadows shrunk away and the light was everywhere. It made him nervous to have to rely on nothing but his physical abilities and his weapons. Silas was a man of magic, after all. He reveled in the feel of it coursing through his fingertips whenever he cast a spell or manipulated the shadows. It was like using your legs to walk - if you didn't stretch 'em out every once in a while you started to ache.

Silas cursed angrily as a sweat drop rolled down into his eye. He scrubbed at it impatiently. Beneath him, Shade snorted, as if sensing his frustration. Silas gave him a reassuring pat. "I'm alright, boy," he grumbled. "Though I'll be glad to get into town sooner than later." He just wanted a cool, shady place and a nice drink. But he knew business had to be tended to first.

It'd been weeks since this whole catastrophe was set into motion. He could still remember that windy Thursday night, leaving his temporary camp by a sheltered cave to do some hunting. When he returned, his belongings had been strewn about, papers fluttering in the air. He'd lost some valuable documents that night - research notes he and his father had written. But that was nothing compared to real loss: the priceless, powerful artifact that had been stolen from its safe place in an iron chest.

It wasn't only the fact that it had been his father's. This necklace, with a sapphire pendant cradled by a silver dragon, was more than a paltry ornament. His father had used it to store magical energy. With it, any magically inclined person could enhance their own abilities to a remarkable degree. Silas and his father had never really known what would happen if it was tapped into by a mundane human.

This theft is what led Silas on a chase through multiple counties and even states. He'd chased down leads, no matter how shaky, and had interrogated every outlaw he'd come across. His shadow wraiths had picked up a few trails, but nothing conclusive. Until last week, when he'd run into an old, cranky man who mentioned some outlaws bragging about selling a necklace to a "Mr. Avery". Mr. Avery, it seemed, was in Santa Fe, a small town in a valley. This was the first solid lead Silas had, and he wasn't about to let it go to waste.

---

The saloon was busy by the time Silas rode up. He hitched Shade, giving the horse an affectionate pat before adjusting his black hat and making his way inside. He went straight to the bartender, placing down a coin for a drink. The bartender obliged, giving Silas a polite nod as he slid the shot glass over. Silas caught his eye and leaned in close. "I'm looking for a man named Mr. Avery," he said, keeping his tone as nonchalant as possible. "You seen him around here?"

The bartender gave him an odd look, before tilting his head toward the back of the room. "He's over there now."

"Thank you." Silas tossed back the shot, and stood, ignoring the bartender's low plea for no trouble.

Mr. Avery was sitting at a table by himself, a portly man with a worn hat and a shifty expression. Silas made his way over and was about to open his mouth when he saw that a woman with dark hair in twin braids had already gotten there first.
 
The early evening was doing little to abate the heat of the day, nor the lack of wind from the buildings, but the saloon wasn’t far, according to Maria’s memory. She had only been to Santa Fe once before on a drive, but she remembered its layout surprisingly well. Now, she watched the strangers' faces as she passed by, swaggering on her way to the meeting place, some with pleasant nods, some with prejudiced contempt, most with general indifference.

The Coral Saloon sat nestled between two buildings, not much to recommend it but the six horses that were tied up by the post. It was busy, and busy meant popular. Popular meant crowded, and she had expected this to be something of a clandestine meeting. But perhaps that was Mister Avery’s point. Maria had never been particularly adept at hiding in plain sight.

“I hope this won’t take long.” Maria stroked Frida’s nose after tying her up, and turned to go into the bar. Mister Avery had sent a telegram to her last known location in El Paso. It was widely known that she took up residence there. Not many people knew of her true home in Mexico, but she preferred it that way. Besides, the innkeeper in El Paso would be indebted to her for the rest of his life, and it was as central a location as any to find new work.

The telegram had said Mister Avery would wait every day for a week at the Coral Saloon, to give her a grace period for traveling north. He would be wearing a hat with a feather in it, and wanted only to discuss the job with her in person. It was all a rather odd way of going about business, but then, she was not as accustomed to contract hires as she was wanted posters from local sheriffs.

When she walked through the swinging doors, only a few heads turned to look her way, and she scanned the place for exits, potential threats, and her liaison. And there he was, sitting in the corner, his hat graced with an eroded feather. He wore fine attire, and he was in the middle of a large meal, which signified wealth, but he still had a greasy and coarse look about him.

“Mister Avery?” She said as she approached, cocking her hat to him. He looked up from his steak. “I am Maria de La Castillo.”

“You’re early, Mizz Castillo!” He said with a smile full of meat. “I gave you a week to show up, and you choose the first day!”

“My travels were fortunate.”

“Please, please, sit down.” He pointed with his knife to the chair across the table, his thick southern hospitality showing through.
Maria pulled out the chair just as the table next to them was occupied too. The gentleman mounted his boots onto a chair and sat back in a reclined position, using his black hat to fan himself while he closed his eyes. Maria noted he would be in an ideal position to overhear their conversation, if he cared to listen, but the noise of the saloon was enough that it would be a struggle for him.

“So you’re the one they call Bloody Mary?” Mister Avery chuckled.

Maria folded her hands on the table, looking less than amused. “That is what a newspaper in Denver dubbed me, after I killed the Juarez Brothers. If the bounty is dead or alive, I tend to favor the dead.”

Mister Avery slapped the table in laughter. “Well aren’t you a rare parrot?” He took a sip from his beer. “Your reputation for getting your man precedes you. Which is why I think you’re right for the job. Yes, I think you’ll do me just fine.” They stared at each other for a moment, while Maria waited for him to continue, allowing the silence to grow awkward and slightly more serious.

“Well let’s get down to business then.” Mister Avery shoved his plate aside and wiped his mouth with the napkin hanging from his neck.

“I had a business deal go south a few weeks ago. There was a very rare necklace that was supposed to be sold to me when my contacts never showed. Now either they ran off with the necklace themselves, highly unlikely as I was offering ten times what they would have seen at market value, or they were intercepted, and people who I would consider my enemies now have possession of my property.”

“Who?” Maria said without moving.

“My guess? Fellow named Ray Buckley. I’m sure you have no doubt guessed that my business practices are less than…. Ideal. Well, Mister Buckley and I have been at war for a long time. Territory disputes, fighting for trade routes, undercutting one another sales and destroying merchandise. We are one another’s competition, after all.”

Maria’s eyes fell to the side, as she tried to guess exactly what type of contraband this mobster dealt in. “But this goes beyond that. He is meddling in affairs he knows nothing about. I want this necklace back, and I want it now.” Avery’s fingertip punched the wooden table while it sounded like he was trying to strangle the word.

“What is the item in question?” Maria asked nonplussed.
“It is a very old artifact, from the medieval period, possibly even reaching back to King Arthur himself. It’s a silver chain, linked to a dragon clutching a sapphire.”

“Seems like a lot of trouble to go to for a piece of finery.” Maria tilted her head.

Avery gave a mirthless chuckle. “It’s much more than finery, miss. It holds more significance than you could ever dream of. And I believe history should be protected and preserved, and this particular item is like having Egypt’s great pyramids in the palm of my hand. To anyone else, it’s a lump of silver and an old gem stone. Any local jeweler could cut something similar. But, to me?” Mister Avery gave a meaningful look and let his urgency sink in. He leaned down to reach the bag at his side. Rummaging through it, he pulled out a tin filled with bank notes, and casually pushed a fifty dollar bill across the table.

“That’s to get you started. If you return the necklace to me by the end of the month, it will be in my power to give you $60,000.” Maria’s eyes widened, but at least her mouth didn’t drop.

“Return it by the end of next month, and it’ll be $50,000. By the end of the year, $20,000. And it will continue to drop the longer you take. I’m not a patient man, Miss Castillo. And I don’t like other people taking my things.” He gave a cruel smirk. “Do you accept?”

“I accept.” She hoped she didn’t sound too eager. If she could actually complete this mission and get that sixty-thousand, she could retire. She could retire with ease. Isadora and the rest of the Villas would be provided for. She could do whatever she pleased. After she figured out what pleased her.

“I thought you might.” Avery fished around in his bag again, pulling out a slip of paper. “My address and information, for when you need it.” He pulled the draw string shut, getting ready to leave. “The names of my contacts are on there as well. Though I suspect they’re dead. I doubt you’ll get any valuable information from an unmarked grave.” Avery stood and slung the bag over his shoulder.

Maria looked at the note where the names Alec Moore and Nathaniel Gill were scribbled out. “Now there’s nothing for me but to wish you luck. And that I eagerly await your success.” Mister Avery tipped his shabby hat at Maria before making his way towards the swinging doors.

Maria wasted no time, and snatched up the contact card and the $50 note he left. She went directly to Frida and saddled up, taking off down the dusty road toward the west of the city.

Out of habit, she looked behind her, only to see black hat leaving the saloon. Suspicion stirred in her mind, but she ignored it for now, thinking how unlikely it would be that this stranger was following her.

She continued to ride down the streets, hoping her memory would serve her once again as to the city’s layout. She came to some shabbier looking buildings, pouring out lively music and warm light as the sun sank lower in the west.

Again she tied up Frida, and entered into a saloon with a much less reputable appearance than the Coral. But she expected nothing less from the city’s pleasure district.

This bar was somehow livelier than the last, reeking of alcohol and smoke, scantily clad courtesans were hard at work, laughing and teasing with their clientele. Maria looked over the scene and found a group of women sitting suggestively, waiting for any interested parties. Well, Maria was interested and approached them, coin in hand.

“Which of you has information about an Alec Moore or a Nathaniel Gill?” Maria watched their faces to see if any of them perked up with recognition.

“Who wants to know?” A blonde asked, looking her up and down.

“Alec’s wife. I don’t care if he was here, I just want to know where he’s got off to. He hasn’t been home in a few days.” Maria lied effortlessly.

“Sorry Señora!” Another girl tsked, “We ain’t never heard of such a one.”

Maria held up a coin, probably worth twice what they’d make in a night. “Are you sure?” Maria's eyebrow lifted. Their expressions changed to hungry, and a third girl piped up first.

“I think I may recognize one of those names, now that you mention it.” She giggled, rushing towards Maria. She leaned in close enough that Maria could smell the powder in her hair. “I believe Nathaniel came around every so often.” She whispered sensually into Maria’s ear. “Last I saw him he said he was on his way to San Francisco.” She leaned back with a flirtatious smile.

When Maria’s expression did not change from its usual grim countenance, the girl gave up.
“Nathaniel was a regular in here. I didn’t see him often, but he did stop in the other week. Tuesday. He told me he had a job in San Fran, working for some big shot who ‘paid in something better than money’, whatever that means.” She rolled her eyes.

“Did he give a name?” Maria continued.

She shook her head. “Just told me goodbye. I got the impression he didn’t have any intention of coming back.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” Maria challenged.

“Only if you ask me to.” The young lady teased. Maria’s eyes grew dark with impatience. “Go and ask his mother” the girl dropped the act “she lives above the Hawker Bank.” she pointed east with indignance.

Maria nodded and held up the coin, which the girl plucked out of her hand before turning back to her perch.

Maria turned to leave, thinking how difficult it would be to narrow down Nathaniel’s location in a city as big as San Francisco. He was almost a week ahead of her and could be anywhere. She wondered if there were any other leads to sniff out in Sante Fe, like the whereabouts of Alec Moore. It was still crowded as she headed for the door, and out of habit, she scanned the crowd. There, with a girl in green on his lap and a smirk on his lips, sat the black hat which she had spotted next to Avery not an hour earlier.

He no doubt hoped he would blend in with the crowd, but that was the thing about hiding in plain sight. You’re still in plain sight.

She walked through the swinging doors, moving to the space between the door and the nearest window. The rifle slung around her back and moved it into position. He was smart, and waited a few minutes to follow, seemingly giving her enough of a headstart to not suspect she had a tail. But eventually, he emerged and she cocked the trigger loudly so he knew the barrel was pointed directly at his head.

“I don’t know what you think your business is with me, corazoncito. But it ends here. I think you need to go back to the lady in green and enjoy her smiles. You’re wasting your time with me.”

The man turned slowly to face her as she leaned against the saloon wall. There was a long moment of silence between them while they sized one another up, before finally, he broke the silence and spoke.
 
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Silas had heard it all. This...Mr. Avery, talking of things he had no business sticking his little mundane nose into. Talking of the artifact's importance as if it meant anything beyond satisfying his greed and lust for power. Silas had balked at the sum the man was willing to pay little miss bounty hunter. $60,000 reward? That was insane! And, Silas admitted grudgingly, quite unfortunate. If Avery had that kind of money to throw around, then he had easy access to help. Help that Silas didn't have.

Bloody Mary. The name rang some bells in his head. He'd heard talk of a female bounty hunter who tended to bring in more corpses than criminals. Of course, there were a small number of women who turned to bounty hunting. None, however, had the reputation that she did. If this was, in fact, the same Bloody Mary he'd heard of.

Silas knew immediately that this was a lead he couldn't let go. As much as he wanted to steer clear of bounty hunters (they tended to be too nosy for their own good), he knew that this woman had information that he needed. So he trailed her, at a distance of course. Waiting for her to leave the saloon before heading out himself, as if he just happened to finish nearly the same time she did.

He kept Shade hitched in front of the building. "Stay low, boy," he murmured to the horse. It was better if he continued on foot. Less noticeable, and besides, he'd soon be shadowstepping more than walking. The day was turning into true evening. The shadows were lengthening. He felt it in his bones, his magic strengthening as the sunlight waned. It brought a confidence to his demeanor, a sort of quiet assurance that people tended to be wary of.

He kept his distance, his eyes trained on the dark-haired woman ahead of him. She made her way toward the city's...less-wholesome parts. Silas pressed his lips together in displeasure. He hated cities like this, where the desperation of humanity was thinly masked by entertainment. Some magical individuals thrived in environments like this, leeching off the less wealthy. He didn't like it. He especially didn't like the look of the bar that Bloody Mary went into.

His momma would've been snatching him by the ear if she had caught him entering such an establishment. Working girls shamelessly flirting and flaunting themselves in front of seedy clients. Drunkards and gamblers laughing and jeering as they wasted their incomes away. Silas bit back his grimace, deciding that it was best if he blended in plain sight.

He played nice, flirting with a woman in a green dress. He kept his touches polite, much to the woman's chagrin. She seemed to expect something more of him than simply sitting in his lap. She noticed his gaze as he tracked Bloody Mary through the room. "If you got somethin' else you want, why bother with me?" She glared, but there was a sultry lilt to her voice that denoted more teasing than actual frustration. "Ain't I enough for ya?"

Silas glanced at her, affecting a cool and confident air as he smirked. "Oh, you are plenty, darlin'," He drawled, making sure to tighten his hold around her waist, as if to emphasize his point. The woman said something else, but her words were lost on him. He stiffened as he saw Bloody Mary's eyes passing over him. Had she spotted him? Did she catch on to the fact that he'd been following her?

When she left, Silas sensed that it was now or never. He needed to catch her before she slipped away. She was his only real lead in this whole mess, and he wasn't about to let her go. He disengaged himself from the woman, who let out several choice words in protest. Her anger lessened a little when he pressed some bills into her hand. Business was business, after all, and at least he hadn't been a demanding client.

Silas slipped out of the bar, into the now dusky outdoors. He took in a deep breath, thanking the stars that the heat had faded somewhat. He walked toward the street, passing the corner of the saloon. He heard the telltale sound of a rifle being cocked. The noise sent a chill down his spine, but he maintained calm and slowly turned, finally coming face to face with Bloody Mary herself.

She looked grim, totally in control and confident that she had the upper hand. Really, she would have. If he'd been a mundane, her bullets would put an end to him. As it was, however, the shadows of the little alley were plentiful, and he felt his magic curl within his chest, ready at a heartbeat's notice. He lifted his hands in a gesture of peace. "I wouldn't consider tracking my only lead to be a waste of time, ma'am," he said quietly. "Especially since that amulet is mine to begin with." Probably wasn't the best practice to lead with such a heavy reveal, but Silas was more desperate than he'd like to admit.
 

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