Ride or Die

[DeletedUser]

(Wanted to start a new west-themed RP, set in the late 1800-early 1900. (1870-1920ish) Hope to have some others join in! Regular RP rules apply. If you don't know them, go read them before you join. Thanks!)

Name: Jess Tracey
Sex: Female
Age: 25
Horse(s): Jigger, Dobbin, Pistol
Occupation: Wrangler, Bar D Ranch; rumored ruffian.
Description: Jess Tracey stands about five-foot-three, weighing 110 pounds, with dirty blonde hair and an attitude that's ten-times larger than herself. She wears 2 matching .41 caliber 1877 Colt revolver's (the 'Thunderers') at her hips, and an 1873 Winchester rifle across her back. She is a dead-shot with each, and anyone who doubts it will end up six-feet-under in very short order. Currently she is leader of a small gang of riders, but it is unknown if they have caused any trouble. Rumors fly that the group of 5, lead by Jess Tracey, have been robbing trains and small banks, but if they have, they managed to hide all traces, as well as all securing good alibis. There is also rumor that the gang is always looking for new members... Jess Tracey and her group are most often seen in Marsten, a small settlement in Dervin County.

Horse(s) Description:
Jigger: Red Dun Blanketed Appaloosa Stallion
Dobbin: Blue Roan Tobiano Stallion
Pistol: Golden Buckskin Stallion

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Jess Tracey checked Dobbin's girth one last time before mounting the large stallion and gathering the reins in a petite hand, the other resting on the butt of her Winchester, which was currently in it's saddle sheath, instead of it's regular position across her back. Her striking green eyes stood out against her suntanned skin and dirty blonde hair as they checked over her small group of 4, who would be riding with her out of Marsten in the early morning fog. Her matching ivory-handled Colt's rode easily at her hips, as if she were born to wear them, her reputation being such that they all knew she could and would use them without a moment's hesitation. There was no chance in hell of surviving a shot from her if she decided to pull them from their holsters. After settling in the dancing stallion's saddle, she buttoned her black duster against the chill, pulling her black stetson down to hide her eyes.

"Let's go... the train is due in an hour." She calls out, turning her horse and nudging him into an easy trot. The men scramble behind her, mounting their various horses in a flurry of dusters and a jangle of spurs, soon catching up and disappearing with her into the fog.

 

[DeletedUser26409]

Name: Black Cliff
Sex: Male
Age: 42
Horse: Wind
Occupation: Hunter/Trapper

Black Cliff stands at six-feet-one weighing 190 pounds. He has walked the prairies for more than 20 years, living of hunting which is his passion. He carries a steel tomahawk (which were made by the white men for the Indians in earlier times), a knife (handle is crafted to look like a birds head), Colt 1873 Artillery Model (the Peacemaker, calber: .45 Long Colt(LC)) on his belt and wields Spencer repeating rifle (caliber: .56 rimfire) as his primary weapon. He is one of the lakota Sioux and none of their calmness, dignity and love for the truth have gone missing on him. Black Cliff is and expert in surviving in the wild: he is an excellent shot and a master tracker and ambusher. He participated in the battle of Little Bighorn. He carries the scalps he has won on his belt along with his pipe like all native Americans. He rides his horse on a saddle without stirrups, typical to the Indians.

Horse Description:
Wind: White (with black spots) Mustang Stallion

Black Cliff had made good progress that day. If he would ride for a few more hours today he would reach the village of the white men tomorrow. There he would trade the castor pelts he had got from traps during the winter for dollars. If the prices would be good enough he would get another revolver. He was getting tired. He felt the handle of the Peacemaker against his stomach. He felt the warmth of the mustang between his legs. He felt the prairie winds caress his face. Had it been dark he would not have noticed the tracks. He stopped Wind and dismounted. There were tracks of five horses, heading to the path of the iron horse. Black Cliff followed.

 

[DeletedUser]

Jess had the uneasy feeling of one who knows that there is something on their heels. She fell back a ways from the group, often checking the back-trails for sign of pursuit. She wouldn't put it beyond the Marshall to send men to track her, hoping to catch them in some unlawful act. One of her riders fell back as he noticed her uneasiness.

"What is it Jess? You gettin' that feelin' again?" He brought his bay to her roan's side, reaching for his rifle as he scans the trees.

She nods. "Somethin's followin'... I got that itch like last time the Marshall sent that flea-bitten, no good Maury after us..." She tilts her head. "But somethin' feels different 'bout this one... I just don't know what it is yet..." She frowns again. "Stay in the back and keep your eyes and ears open. We're gettin' close to the train and I'm not gonna to risk an ambush." She spurs her stallion forward to join the rest of the group, not even waiting for a nod from the bay's rider.

"Keep your eyes and ears open... somethin's tailin' us.." She informs the others. "We got two hours to reach the tracks, but if we can get there sooner, all the better. Keep movin'..."

 

[DeletedUser26409]

Black Cliff had followed the tracks for an hour. He had a keen eye and as he rode down a small hill he saw someone stalking him in the bushes farther away. Black Cliff continued as if he had not seen him. When just out of rifles firing range he stopped, dismounted and put his rifle on his back.

"Come out, white man. Black Cliff comes in peace." As the white man cautiously emerged from the bushes the Indian recognized Adams, a white man who rode with Prairie Fox. As the white man approached, he recognized Black Cliff. "Hey, Sap, what coincidence seein' you here."

"Black Cliff is happy to see his white brother Adams. They shall smoke calumet." Black Cliff filled the pipe, lit it and took seven breaths: for the sky, for the earth and for all four winds, then offered the pipe to Adams who also completed the ritual. "Black Cliff wonders if Adams does not ride with Prairie Fox any more." "What? Oh, with Jess? Sure I do." "Black wonders if his white sister is on the warpath." "Umm... Why don't ya come with me and just talk to Jess. But we gotta hurry if we don't wanna miss all the action." "Black Cliff will come."

The men mounted their horses and dashed through the prairie.

 

[DeletedUser25825]

Name: Dakota Jenkins
Sex: Female
Age: 26
Horse: Penelope
Occupation: Prospector

Dakota stands at five feet four inches and weighs 120 pounds. Her dark almond-shaped eyes, dark complexion, and glossy black hair, which she keeps tied in two braids, betray her Native American lineage. She wears a pair of dusty denims, belt, a cotton long sleeved shirt, rugged boots, red shawl tied round her neck, a ragged brown Brim Gus hat, and a leather duster-style coat. For protection she carries a Bowie knife sheathed on her belt, a Henry Arms Co. double barrel shotgun, which she's altered by cutting the butt and much of the barrels off so it resembles more a pistol size, holstered on her left hip, and a Winchester 1866 carried on Penelope.

Horse Description:
Penelope: Gray Jenny (female donkey) with black mane and tail. Penelope carries all the other stuff Dakota needs for her trade of prospecting; blanket, lantern and fuel oil, matches, canteens, shovels, pans, foodstuffs, pick, matches, and other assorted gear. To pretty Penelope up and make her feel like the lady she is, Dakota has altered an old straw hat with a fine looking white bow to fit atop Penelope's head.

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Dakota led Penelope along the train tracks leading away from Marsten, while whistling a tune she'd heard in some honky-tonk several towns back. She paused in her whistling to comment, "You know Penelope... if you and I don't strike it soon... we might just find ourselves down on our luck." She took a deep cleansing breath and shaded her eyes as she looked toward the sun cresting over the nearby mountains. She stopped the donkey and patted her front haunch.

"Where do you think we should head in?" She nodded toward the mountains as her donkey blatantly ignored her and began nibbling on vegetation sprouting from underside the ties of the tracks. She nodded after a few moments, "Yeah... I think a mile or two down further." She looked along the ridge further west from where they stood. "You think we can make it by noon?" She pulled a tin pocket watch from her pocket, popped it open and read the time. "Near time for the train to pass by I'd wager", she commented to Penelope as she closed and wound her watch, before tucking it back into her pocket.

"Ah well... come on Penelope. Daylight ain't going to be cold today." She tugged on Penelope's halter and led the stubborn animal along the tracks once again.

 

[DeletedUser]

Name: Jack Kandler
Sex: Male
Age: 28
Horse: Spade
Occupation: Bounty Hunter

Five feet and eleven inches tall, weighing in at 180 pounds, Jack is a tough, resilient man who knows how to survive weeks in the desert without stopping for supplies. His bristly black hair curls out from under his slouch hat, which he wears with one side of the rim up, Australian style. He keeps himself well-armed, with a Bowie knife, a nine-inch hunting knife, a serrated knife meant for intimidation, a .45 Schofield revolver, a .45 Colt Bluntline revolver, a Gewehr 71 rifle with a sword bayonet and a Winchester 12 gauge. Aside from his personal arsenal, he actually packs relatively lightly, which Spade appreciates. In combat, he prefers to rely on tactics over sharpshooting, and he knows how to take a man down easily. That doesn't mean he's a bad shot, though.

Horse Description: Spade is a large black stallion, very much as tenacious as his rider, who carries everything Jack needs for those long rides through the steppes, which isn't much compared to most other folks.
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Jack and Spade rode off through the searing heat of Dervin County, cantering along through the bushes and dust. Before long, the shape of a town appeared on the horizon, and Jack knew he was headed in the right direction. True enough, he came to Dervin County for business, and for a bounty hunter, there was no shortage of it there, or so he heard. "What say we check this joint?", he asked Spade. Spade's English wasn't exactly fluent, so he offered no response. "I'll take that as a yes", Jack said, riding off towards the town.

 

[DeletedUser]

Jess lead her band up a small rise as the morning sun made it's appearance on the horizon, coloring the sky. She pulls her stallion to a halt, looking down across the prairie and the train track cutting a deep scar through the grass. A small smile peeks out from under her stetson as she spots the plume of smoke from the morning train, chugging at a stately pace across the open land.

"We made good timin'... there's the beauty now. All the way from Fort Trustam, carryin' a payload of the finest gold from the Black Mountains." The others gathered about her with excited smiles, horses dancing. "Stick to the normal plan lads, and things'll go exactly like clockwork." She grins and pulls a dark kerchief across the lower half of her face, hiding all but her emerald eyes, shadowed by the hat. "You know where the meetin' spot is. Don't be late, or it'll be a bullet in your chest."

The other's followed suit, pulling kerchiefs about their faces and lifting collars to hide as much as they could from prying eyes. None seemed to hold a shred of doubt about what she said, nodding agreement. They had seen what happened to deserters and those that chose to double-cross Jess Tracey. They had buried all of them in shallow graves, or left them for the coyotes and other varmits to pick dry.

It was a calm air in which the riders milled about, as if they had done this enough to have not a moment of doubt or hesitation. Guns were checked and spun and re-holstered; horse necks patted; hats pulled low over eyes that couldn't help but gleam excitedly about the idea of more green to pad there pockets. And through it all, the train and it's cargo pulled ever closer.

 

[DeletedUser26409]

Black Cliff knew he was approaching Prairie Fox and the rest of her men. "Just a little more," he whispered softly into the horses ear. It seemed that the mustang understood and went even faster. Black Cliff stopped on a small hill from which the path of the iron horse was visible. Prairie Fox was not on a warpath. She was hunting the iron horse. Black Cliff would join her. But he had to hurry. The dust from under the iron horses hooves was already visible in the distance.

Wind took off like an arrow and Black Cliff lead him towards Prairie Fox.

 

[DeletedUser]

Jess was about to signal her 'posse', but notes a dust-cloud growing closer to their position, easily spotted from her vantage point. She looks closer, recognizing the flash of white and black that was Wind, and smiles. Black Cliff. Perhaps he would join her today.

She looks back to the train. She had a few minutes before it would become to late to get down to it. Her stallion dances a bit, but she settles him with her legs and a small hand on his mane. She would wait for Black Cliff.

 

[DeletedUser25825]

Dakota tugged Penelope further away from the tracks they were following as the train sounded its steam whistle as it was approaching her. She stood still and waved at the smiling engineer as the train rumbled past. She watched it continue on down the tracks before she started whistling the tune she'd been whistling earlier and began walking again.

 

[DeletedUser26409]

Black Cliff stopped next to Prairie Fox.

"Black Cliff is glad to see his white sister Jess. But they will smoke calumet later. First they hunt the iron horse." Black Cliff cocked his revolver and checked his tomahawk and knife.

 

[DeletedUser]

Jess smiles as Black Cliff came to her side, raising a hand in greeting. "Good to see you again my friend! You will join us?" She nods at his response.

She then signals her posse down the hill towards the train, which was exactly where she wanted it to be. The job was executed smoothly, as always. One rider held up the conductor, which ground the train to a halt as Jess, Black Cliff, and the others mounted the train and headed to the boxcar containing the gold. They wouldn't harm the passengers, it was against Jess' rules to steal from their persons. Two men just held the group at gunpoint, with various threats against telling anyone about the deed.

After securing the gold in various pouches and bags, Jess and her men reclaimed their horses and headed out. They had a hideout in the mountains that served as a perfect place to regroup and hide the money until the heat blew over.

Jess couldn't help but notice Dakota and Penelope wandering along the tracks, so she kicked her stallion to a lope, keeping her kerchief up as she neared the woman. "Howdy stranger... you're far from town..."

 

[DeletedUser25825]

Dakota studied the woman approaching her, and her eyes shifted toward the group of men riding with her. She looked back at the woman and lifted her hand to shade the sun shining over the woman's shoulder, while squinting one eye. "Yes ma'am. The town backaways ain't mine to be from though." She looked down pointedly at the woman's holstered gun, before raising her eyes once more to her face as her riders reined in around the woman.

"Um, it ain't going to be a problem for me for not being from no town right? I'm just a simple gal trying to eke a living outta them there hard mountains that away." She lifted her brown hand and pointed at the mountains spanning the horizon. She looked at the riders as she patted Penelope's neck muttering, "It'll be ok Penelope my dear. They wanna take our stuff? Why, we just find us more stuff then. Yes ma'am."

She shifted in the dust slightly as she looked at the group, and then back at the woman who first addressed her. "Um, you look like you might need a place to rest a bit. I've got a shack up that away. A place I stop before I head off for my stream. It's yours for as long as you want it. Iffen you want it."

 

[DeletedUser26409]

Black cliff inconspicuously examined Dakota. Her appearance betrayed that she was at least part Indian although her clothing resembled that of a white man's. Black Cliff dismounted Wind and filled his pipe. He wished to show his good intentions.

"Black Cliff's sister offers her wigwam. Will she smoke calumet with Black Cliff?"

 

[DeletedUser25825]

Dakota looked toward Black Cliff and smiled easily enough. She switched to Arapaho and greeted him, waiting to see if he spoke her dialect. He was wearing garb, she believed, of the Sioux, if she was remembering her grandmother's stories. If he was Sioux, she'd be ok mostly, they were at least friendly toward each other.

She looked at the calumet, then back at Black Cliff with some confusion masking her features. She tilted her head slightly as she switched back to English, noting most whites didn't like true language being used as she asked, "My grandmother told me to smoke of the calumet was to seal deals. I didn't know I was being offered something. Mind you, it's been too long since I spoke with my grandmother of such things, and my mind is a little lost." She pursed her lips and looked up at the climbing sun. "It's the sun I think" she tapped her clenched fist against the side of her head a few times.

 

[DeletedUser26409]

Black Cliff answered in (somewhat clumsy) Arapaho dialect and also switched back to English.

"Black Cliff's sister should not look so confused. She offers Black Cliff and his companions her wigwam. Black Cliff in turn offers his friendship. Will she smoke calumet?"

 

[DeletedUser]

Jess chuckles lightly. "I mean ya no harm sister. I would not rob ya." She lowers her kerchief, letting the woman see her face. "None of my men here would dare lay a hand on ya either, on my honor." She looks at them pointedly.

"Thank ya also for yer kind invitation... I might have'ta take ya up on that there offer." She knew it would probably be better than their own hideout, which was secure in it's own way, and had been for years; But maybe the change would be good, keeping low-life bounty hunters and that infuriating Marshall Bates off their tails.

She observes the greeting between Black Cliff and the woman, her hand absently caressing the butt of her pistol. She occasionally turned to gaze at the hills surrounding them, watching for tell-tale signs of a rider. It would do them no good to be caught standing around.

The train had resumed it's steady trek towards the next town, where stories of their exploits were bound to sprout quickly. She cuts off the conversation. "Looky here lady... what's yer name?" She nods at the answer. "We need ya to lead us to that there cabin ya offered... and right quick. If ya do, there won't be no trouble... just lead us there, let us stay fer a couple'a days, and then we'll be on our way 'fore ya know it."

 

[DeletedUser25825]

Dakota smiled easily at Black Cliff and nodded about to respond as Jess addressed her. She tipped her hat while daying, "Name of Dakota ma'am." She listened and nodded again before replying, "Yes ma'am. I can surely do that." She looked back at Black Hills. "I guess we can smoke some once we get to the cabin." She led Penelope across the tracks and off towards the nearby mountain.

She moved at the snail's pace only walking could be at, but the mountains weren't far off. It wasn't too long before they'd entered the foot hills and were no longer in sight of the tracks, nor in the open as they had been. As they walked, Dakota did not say anything to the riders, but had alot to say to Penelope. Mostly her conversation revolved continually around finding her strike at long last, and how the easy life was going to be their tomorrow.

She stopped and looked around, seemingly getting her bearings and pointed to a trail that was otherwise hidden until looking directly at it. "We need to be going that way, but I advise against riding it. Better to lead your mounts at this point." She patted Penelope's neck as she explained, "Now you behave Penelope. You KNOW this is the only way. I know you hate it, but there'll be a carrot in it for you." So saying, she led the group along a surprisingly trecherous goat trail it looked like.

They eventually got to her shack. Her calling it a shack, was very fitting. It was a building, it had four walls, a plank door, and a tin roof. She led Penelope into a small pen made of lopsided fence posts and rails. She patted Penelope's head, scratching her behind her ears, as she dug a carrot out of the pack she wore and feeding it to her. Dakota thanked her for the work, grabbed a day pack off the bundle on Penelope's back and flung it over her shoulder as she asked them inside.

Inside, there was a straw matress on the floor, a rough table and stool, and a small stove off the the corner, and nothing else. She looked around and shrugged. "This is it. Home sweet home."