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Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Oct 16, 2006 14:21:01 GMT -5
Behind the bar there's a back alley where the spoiled food and bad alcohol is spoiled. Like most Western or pre-sewer-and-centralized-sanitation towns, even with some of the anachronistic technology the town is randomly distributed with fecal matter, trash of various kinds, etc. (The notable exception is the core near the church, which tends to be unbelievably floral and clean). Derrick sloughs through the filth. A man on the other side of the building says, "Noxious, hmm?"
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Post by Black Fox on Oct 17, 2006 12:24:23 GMT -5
Sinclair 'Quite so, hey you have any idea as to what that light in the sky was?' he tips his hat to the man trying to block out the smell
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Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Oct 18, 2006 1:56:09 GMT -5
"I may.", he smiles puckishly. "My name's Quinn Tesla."
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Post by Black Fox on Oct 18, 2006 18:41:59 GMT -5
'Alastair Sinclair, is my name. Im a jack of all trades'
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Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Oct 19, 2006 1:21:41 GMT -5
"I'm an artificer and scientician. I see you didn't rush for the money."
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Post by Black Fox on Oct 20, 2006 16:12:28 GMT -5
"I could have, but why do it, id rather not fight amongst others to get money, shows greed." Sinclair looks intrigued by this character.
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Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Oct 20, 2006 19:56:57 GMT -5
The man laughs. "I'm sure you could have. Most of the time, capitalism has so entered into the false consciousness that one has to combat it with more capital... Fight fire with fire, so to speak."
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Post by Black Fox on Oct 20, 2006 22:05:53 GMT -5
"Intriuging, now i personally would do with out, but i have to make a living in a world like this so money is only a necesity to me, not something I prefer to keep, i like living as a free spirit and wandering where i please...most might assume from my proffesion that i think of money highly. But adventure, for me, is where the rewards are."
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Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Oct 21, 2006 5:07:04 GMT -5
"Glad to hear it. Now, I must bid you adios, but if you would like to meet some likeminded people, take this flyer." He delicately and tactfully but forcefully pushes a piece of paper at Sinclair.
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Post by Mace Parshath on Oct 21, 2006 19:43:55 GMT -5
Michael "Corky" Chapman rode in through the (presumed) safest route towards the church on his brown and white horse, Ginger Snap. Once he's there, he'll look around for the nearest stables and drop his horse off there for the night. He kept his hat and ascot on, his face covered except for his eyes. His hands were covered as well, and only one of his .38 caliber pistols were left in the open.
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Post by Black Fox on Oct 24, 2006 20:28:19 GMT -5
Sinclair with a flick of his wrist grabs it and turns it over to read.
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Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Oct 29, 2006 4:40:13 GMT -5
The relatively gentrified people close to the center of town stare at the obvious Gung Fu Boy, a rare sight in these parts, with no small amount of confusion and curiousity. The rich are by necessity cautious, so they are clearly a little afraid as well. Somewhat rude comments are bandied. Corky finds a chapel manned by a massive portly man with a black moustache that forms an upside down U or hurdle shape, donning a green apron. The fat on his body rumbles as he almost bellows, "A dime a day."
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The pamphlet is an advertisement for a pretty standard Red group, though this one seems to be distinct from others due to several scientific references trying to demonstrate the superiority of a non-business-oriented social organization. The meeting is at 11:00 tonight, 30 minutes after the proposed curfew Sinclair reads is being discussed, clearly an implicit snubbing of the nose at the municipal authorities.
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Post by Black Fox on Oct 29, 2006 19:03:59 GMT -5
"Hmm, sounds like quite the get together, ill have to make sure ill be there" Sinclair says to himself Sinclair continues through the back alleys and makes his way to the sherrifs station thinking of the meeting tonight and what may exactly be there for him...
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Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Nov 1, 2006 21:13:55 GMT -5
The streets for some time are clear with a residual expanding ring around the epicenter of the electrical disturbance. People are putting away the nickels they acquired and laughing. He is now finally in front of the Sheriff's Office. The deputy is inside, eating a piece of brown sugar pie.
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Post by Black Fox on Nov 3, 2006 20:24:13 GMT -5
"Afternoon Deputy, im here to give my side of the brawl" Sinclair says tipping his hat to the officer. He walks over to his desk and if there is a chair he will sit, if not he will place his hands on the desk after removing his hat and await a response.
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Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Nov 5, 2006 18:14:58 GMT -5
The man nods. "This is a formali-tee, since Fox is so well known... Wow, Mae's pies are just amazing. Wonder why she keeps bring them by."
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Post by Mace Parshath on Nov 5, 2006 21:49:27 GMT -5
Corky, his face veiled, smiles underneath it and pays the man. "I'll come back and pay the rest if I decide to stay longer. Are there any small jobs available around here?"
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Post by Black Fox on Nov 11, 2006 23:33:06 GMT -5
"Well, i may have to guess shes got some sentiments towards you deputy" Sinclair says He scans the room, hoping he wont have to be on the other side of the bars.
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Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Nov 29, 2006 7:27:25 GMT -5
The stable owner, in lieu of a verbal response, simply shakes his head. He takes Corky's horse out back and stables the steed.
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The deputy looks up and says, "Aww, shucks, you really think so?"
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Post by Black Fox on Nov 29, 2006 12:18:50 GMT -5
"I would guess as much, seeing as your the only one she is cookin for"
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Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Dec 2, 2006 6:30:29 GMT -5
The deputy thinks for a moment. "Well, I wouldn't QUITE say that, stranger..."
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Post by Mace Parshath on Dec 2, 2006 15:10:06 GMT -5
Corky shrugs and asks, "Where's the nearest bar?"
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Post by Black Fox on Dec 5, 2006 22:33:27 GMT -5
"Well why not, and also what did you want me to do exactly about Fox?"
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Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Dec 7, 2006 19:09:01 GMT -5
The stable owner simply points. It's not clear whether or not he is mute or simply loathe to speak, but he points a little bit further away from the church (it appears spirits and liquors may be banned within the first few streets around the church), down the direction Corky came and to a side street. It seems that he points to a central market square.
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"Well, she cooks her for her famil-eh, friends... But I must admit, she does smile awful pretty when she comes by for me..." He takes out a red handkerchief and dabs away crumbs at his face as he stands up, spurs striking the hardwood floor. "Ah, about Fox I just needed ya to tell me the full events so I can get a witness account for the judge. Hopefully we won't need to call ya as a witness."
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Post by Black Fox on Dec 7, 2006 19:19:38 GMT -5
Sinclair goes through what happened, with him readying to leave, and Fox tripping him, Sinclair asking what that was for and then following actions
"Well, of course she cooks for her Family and friends, but you my good sir, you would be might special to her, i think she enjoys your presence. Maybe shes looking for a nice strong deputy of the law for protection, or even to ask her fer marriage. Well whatever the case is it looks like she has some feelings for you."
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Post by Mace Parshath on Dec 8, 2006 19:38:10 GMT -5
"Thank ya, see ya tomorrow then." Corky goes in the direction of the central market square, where he makes it a habit to check that his ascot was tight around his jaw, concealing his face and keeping the shade on his bright teal eyes.
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Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Dec 12, 2006 5:09:51 GMT -5
"Why, I don't think I could do something as forward as asking her hand in marriage! And her paw doesn't seem to like me very much..."
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Post by Black Fox on Dec 12, 2006 12:22:10 GMT -5
"Well i never meant marriage! hah hah. I was jes givin' you my 2 cents on the whole thing, all i was saying was that she seems to have some feelings for you."
Sinclair glances around at his surroundings.
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Post by Frederic Bourgault-Christie on Dec 24, 2006 14:43:30 GMT -5
The suspicion increases as Corky seems committed to looking mysterious and keeping his features hidden. The market is bustling with the well-to-do of the town, what the Reds would call the bourgeoisie.
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"Well, what would ya say I should do?", the sheriff asks. It seems the whole notion of courtship escapes him.
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Post by Black Fox on Dec 24, 2006 18:17:31 GMT -5
"Hmmm, well i say you should tell her that she makes great pie, and then maybe take her some flowers" Sinclair says with a smile, he notices that others speak with an accent, but he never has.
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