Stand and Deliver (aka "A Fistful of Ukes") - A 'Wild West' Group RP, 18+

[ravenwyck]

The air smelled of cattle and coal. The bustle of people and animals blended with the noise of the train engine creating a background hum that meant life and prosperity in a frontier town. As Jebediah Jones waited for his horse to be unloaded, he took in his surroundings. The Lady's Lot was bigger each time he rolled through. Jeb spared a rueful smile for himself. This time he was more than just passing through. He supposed if he was going to be the sheriff of this town he'd better get used to calling it by its proper name.

 

Desert's Reach. The name was unfamiliar on Jeb's tongue, but not ill-fitting. It was once explained to him that the town had been founded just beyond the 'deserts reach,' and was so named. He wasn't sure if that story was true but it sounded nice and there was no questioning that its location was the town's biggest asset. While just a few hours ride to the south would lead you into the sparse and arid wilderness, to the north lay land suitable for cattle and pockets of fertile soil perfect for farming.

 

Dominating the landscape the mountains lay to the west, sheltering the town in their shadow. The railroad's path through those mountains had been the real birth of Deserts Reach. The silver they had discovered while blasting their way through hadn't hurt things either. What had started as the sleepiest of small towns had grown into a hub of cultures and people and trade.

 

While the cattle trade alone provided Deserts Reach with a steady source of income, the miners coming out of the mountains had brought wealth into the town. When you added the fact that the railroad passing through Deserts Reach was the only one to pass through the mountains for hundreds of miles, it was no mystery why the town continued to grow.

 

Hearing his name as he led his horse away from the train, Jeb hastily pulled himself from his thoughts. He'd only met Sheriff Murphy twice in person, but, even without the gleaming silver badge, Jeb would have recognised the man on sight. Benjamin Murphy was a man of average height, average build, and average looks. In his mid-forties, gray had just started to touch the temples of his brown hair. What set him apart was his charisma and his smile. His smile was a dazzling and infectious thing and he had a way of putting people at ease.

 

Jeb had left the marshals shortly after he and his partners, the McGee brothers, had been given paper pushing duties in the capitol. Theoretically, it had been a promotion. The brothers had certainly seen it that way and had settled into life in Washington easily. They were heroes after the battle of Fort Humpensterf, but even Jeb had been willing to admit that the battle should have never happened and that it probably wouldn't have without their groups interference. A hefty raise and a quiet job had been enough to calm his partner's over zealous behavior, but had left Jeb feeling restless. He was ill-suited for civilized life and he felt both useless and frustrated wading through bureaucratic bullshit for a living. It hadn't been an easy decision, but he'd left the marshals and the 'family' that had adopted him six years before. Jeb had tried his hand at independent bounty hunting for a few years. He'd always had a talent for it. And while he did well for himself in the endeavor, he'd missed the sense of belonging he'd had traveling with the McGees.

 

Ben had heard of Jeb's 'retirement' from the US Marshals and had contacted him about becoming a sheriff instead. Ben was a little young for retirement himself, despite having been at the job more than decade, but he'd explained that he'd taken on the job of being sheriff to a much smaller place than Deserts Reach had become. Ben was a good man, but a simple one, and the job of handling law enforcement for the town had just become too much for him. For Jeb it was the perfect opportunity. But he didn't plan on trying to do it on his own. He knew one of his first steps would be finding himself some deputies. In fact, Jeb hoped to convince Ben to stay on as a deputy himself. He knew the man loved both his job and Deserts Reach and Jeb could use both his experience with the town and his skill as a negotiator in the days ahead.

 

There was more to Deserts Reach than just travelers and miners, and the usual lot. Under Ben's careful guidance the town had fostered and maintained a friendly relationship with the 'local' indian tribe for many years. As a result, Deserts Reach enjoyed a level of peace and tolerance with the natives that was all too often unheard of. Jeb hoped to continue this tradition and having Ben still with him would go a long way towards that goal.

 

Jeb thought about the situation as he made small talk with the sheriff on their way to his lodgings. Ben had tried to give up his own place, stating that it had been set aside for the sheriff. The statement was true enough, but the house itself had been built shortly after Ben had taken the post and the man had lived there all these years. Jeb couldn't justify kicking the man out of his own home, no matter what the building might have originally been intended for. Besides, as he'd stated quite honestly, the house was wasted on him since he intended to take up residence at his favorite brothel, The Lady's Lot. He'd already arranged it with Aunty Ann, the house's madame.

 

Promising to catch up with the sheriff later, Jeb headed into the brothel. Aunty Ann, a buxom and sturdy woman, was fluttering her way down the stairs with a freshly powdered face and a dress much too fine for a weekday morning and a gaggle of giggling girls in tow just as Jeb reached the front tap room. With arms spread wide the impeccably dressed woman tossed herself into Jeb's arms with the enthusiasm of a woman twenty years younger. Catching her in a hug, Jeb lifted her easily, giving Ann a twirl through the air before kissing her soundly. His eyes scanned company of girls as he set her back down. Jeb saw a few faces he recalled from his previous visits, but not the one he sought. Aunty seemed to sense his disappointment as she put a hand on his shoulder and whispered softly.

 

"She's not here. I warned you she probably wouldn't be."

 

"It's going to be hard for her to continue to avoid me once I start living here. If that is her goal, as it seems must be true, you should tell me now, so I can find other lodgings. I'll not have her feel driven out by my presence. She's already endured more than any woman should have to." Years ago when passing through the area for the first time, he'd hunted down one of his sworn enemies here, a member of the McGillicuddy clan. They were widespread and vile lot and he'd taken on a blood feud against them when he'd accepted the McGees as his kin. In the process of that duty, he'd saved an indian girl, barely of breeding age, but already exceedingly beautiful, from the man's demented attentions. He'd brought her here, knowing no other place to take her, and it was his understanding that she'd made a home for herself in this place. Jeb asked about her each time he passed through, but each time he was told she was doing well, but was currently unavailable and continued to be until after he was gone.

 

Ann was silent a moment and Jeb got the feeling she was trying to decide how much or what exactly to say. As Jeb prepared for words to come, he was glad he hadn't even made it to his room yet, much less unpacked. After all, it had been one week, five years ago. The girl probably remembered him only vaguely anyway and even then only as an extension of the nightmare she had experienced. It was only his foolish dream to maintain a connection he'd surely imagined in the first place. The Desert Rose down the street wasn't such a bad a place. If it wasn't as nice as The Lady's Lot, it also wasn't as bad the brothel's that catered almost exclusively to the miners on the other side of town. And he'd stayed at worse. Regardless, it at least wouldn't come down to him having to make due with a normal inn. Jeb had done such a fine job of working himself up to the inevitable rejection, that he wasn't prepared for the words that actually came.

 

"Not everything back then was exactly the way you think it was," the Madame said carefully. "Well...its...she's just not the girl you think she is. And I think she is afraid you'll be disappointed when you figure out the truth. And THAT is more than I ever should have said." Aunty Ann led the way to his room as she continued to speak. "I'll say no more about it, except that you know you're always welcome here and your money is only sometimes good. The rules are the still the same. If you start effecting their productivity, I'll have to charge you for 'entertaining' my girls. And before you argue, I know they keep refusing your money, but I wont. Don't think a little 'slap and tickle' is enough to turn my head. I have a business to run." Her words were rough, but as Jeb copped a feel on her way out the door there was a girlish blush on her face. Stopping in the hall to turn back to him, Ann added. "I'll talk to Lala. You two have to have to get this straight eventually. But, I'll not have you skulking about trying to force a confrontation. Do you hear me? New sheriff or not, I'll have your hide. I swear it. Lunch is in a few hours, come on down if you’re hungry."

 

Jeb gave his confirmation where appropriate and eventually shut the door behind the woman's retreating figure. With some time to himself, Jeb sat on the bed to put some order to his thoughts. A telegram had already warned the town of his arrival time. There would be a 'meet and greet' this evening so that interested townsfolk and businessmen could meet him in an unofficial capacity. Mostly it was just an excuse for Desert's Reach to throw a party. And he expected a good portion of the town would show up. He planned to use the opportunity to get a feel for the key players in town. Jeb wondered if the local tribe would send representatives. If everyone in town knew he was coming, it safe to assume they would too. He was anxious to make a good impression on his new neighbors and he hoped the same was true of them as well.

 

Lying back on the bed as considered his first steps, Jeb decided to nap away his travel weariness before lunch. As he dozed off, he wondered again about the indians living nearby. Ann had made it clear that Lala was still in the area and yet he'd never once seen her in town. Perhaps she had been staying with them this entire time. It would certainly explain why he never saw her in town. Deserts Reach wasn't small, but it wasn't that big either. And if the normal course of his job happened to take him out to the village and if he just happened to see Lala while he was there, well he certainly couldn't be accused of 'skulking.' Jeb would try to be patient, but he’d waited five years already, just to say hello.

[SqueezeBabe]

He hummed quietly to himself as he scattered the grain around his feet. The soft clucking and scratching the only sounds in silence of the predawn morning. He thought, as he had countless times over the last five years, about how easily he had settled into his new life in Deserts Reach.

 

He occasionally missed his old life, his family and the rest of the tribe he grew up with. Lalawethika, the name he’d been given by his parents, meaning “he who makes noise”, had grown up least three weeks ride away from Deserts Reach. His tribe had been relatively isolated from the frontier towns, and moved often, and after being kidnapped, he had no idea where he would need to start to look for them, so he simply hadn’t, choosing instead to embrace his new life the Spirits had guided him to.

 

He paused for a moment as memories of his earlier life overtook him. His family was one of the larger ones, and he had many brothers and sisters, leaving him to fend for himself most of the time. It was a blessing, and a curse, that he’d been born with a womans face. His father and his brothers all had the strong rugged features of men, but he shared his looks with his mother and his sisters, the high delicate cheekbones, the full lips and long lashes… his sisters would dress him up in their old clothes and do his hair like theirs, usually to trick unsuspecting visitors, or just as a very bad joke. He truly didn’t mind, the dresses and tunics were made of soft leather, and his long black hair was like liquid. This hadn’t stopped him from hunting his with his brothers, and he was a capable warrior for his tribe, skilled at hunting and tracking. But he felt that something had been missing from his life, that perhaps maybe he was destined for much more than being overlooked by the rest of the tribe, and the only attention him receiving recognition for, was for the fact that he made a beautiful woman… to the point where the actual women of the tribe wouldn’t go near him, and the men avoided him.

 

It had all changed when he was kidnapped. Stolen from his teepee whilst the village was asleep, for reasons he never knew, and never found out about. Perhaps his “reputation” had reached the ears of the white settlers, or perhaps a neighbouring tribe was exacting revenge for the “trick” his village had played on them, he was unlikely to find out. The man who had kidnapped him had in turn been arrested by U.S Marshall and shipped back to Washington, but not before he’d shown the impressionable young man something unexpected. Even though Lalawethika had behaved like a woman, the truth was revealed the minute the man had removed his clothes. Rather than being angry and leaving him in the wilderness (he idly wondered in hindsight if that would have been more preferable) he’d slept with him anyway. Much to his surprise, the man had been gentle and he’d found that he’d enjoyed the activity immensely, truly living up to his namesake, his moans and cries reverberating in the wilderness, and he’d begun to look forward to the nightly coupling.

 

That had changed with the Marshall had shown up. Lalawethika was not bothered by the change in circumstances, already resigning himself to the Spirits will, but the man, Jebediah, had sat down with him and explained to him all the deeds that his captor had been responsible for. Lalawethika was horrified at the thought that he’d been sleeping with the man, and enjoying it no less. Even though his own English was limited, he’d understood every word the man had said. He’d spend the rest of the journey back to Deserts Reach in relative silence, mulling over his situation and seeking guidance from the Spirits as best he could. They were unsurprisingly silent and once again he figured he’d make the best of the situation that presented itself.

 

Jebediah and taken him to a large building, full of perfumes and frills, of ladies who wore too much paint on their faces. Aunty Ann, the lady that ran the establishment had immediately known that he was a man, but had taken him anyway, allowing him to continue the charade. He’d been put to work taking care of the odd jobs around the brothel, and soon that extended to servicing his own particular clientele. They were all bound by secrecy never to reveal his true gender on pain of being barred from Lady’s Lot for the rest of their lives and once again his cries and moans became cause of conversation, the other girls giggling behind their lacey fans as the sounds of his enjoyment filtered through the walls.

 

Here, he became known as “Lala”, his name being too difficult for the folk to pronounce. He dressed in the fine frilly dresses that the other girls wore, and made his face up like theirs, and Lady’s lot grew in reputation for having the best looking girls in the West. When he wasn’t “working” at the brothel, he was simply known as “Mojag”, a name meaning “never silent” - the closest he could come to his true name. Mojag wore the clothes of the frontier, the sturdy denim jeans, the dark leather boots, and soft cotton shirt, complete with the wide brimmed hat that cowboys were famous for. He continued to help Aunty Ann, the woman becoming like his second mother, despite earning as far as she was concerned, enough money to get him anywhere else he wanted to be.Deserts Reach had become his new home.

 

He collected the eggs from the chickens, and cleaned out their coop, moving onto the other animals in the small farm. Aunty Ann had saved a fortune in feeding her girls since he’d come along, as he seemed the only one who knew how to look after the animals properly, as well as butcher them when the time came. Before the faint fingers of light had spread across the landscape, he’d already loaded everything back into the simple cart, now with the addition of eggs and a few chicken carcasess, and milk from the cows. The pigs were getting fatter and soon enough there would be roast pork. The little farm was extremely efficient and no one dared to touch any of the animals that were housed there. An unfortunate chicken thief had suddenly found themselves unable to get a lady in the whole of the town, or in any the neighbouring ones, the pent of frustration hardly worth a few little chickens.

 

He slowly made his way back to the town, the horses gentle ‘clops’ breaking the silence. When Jebediah returned to the brothel, he’d always found an excuse not to be there. At first it was because he was shy and he had no idea how to deal with being the presence of the man who had rescued him and gone out of his way for him, then came the fear of disappointing the man when he found out that he was really a man and not the beautiful Indian maiden he thought he should’ve been. The years and labour had caused Lalawethika to grow taller and fill out, and as “Mojag” he looked every inch the Indian brave, but in the exquisite gowns and his face and hair all made up, he was still “Lala” the Indian Princess of Lady’s Lot.

 

He put the horse back in the stable, and unloaded the cart into the kitchen at the back of the brothel. According to Aunty Ann, today was the day that Jebediah would be coming to stay. He’d just been accepted as the new Sheriff of Deserts Reach. Running a hand through his black silky hair, he wondered just how much longer he could keep avoiding the man, and what would happen when he found out his little “secret”. Making his way back to the room where he slept, he wondered, for what seemed like the hundredth time what he should do.

[InkompleteWish]

The light clacking of his horses feet was almost relaxing under the desert heat. Well it wasn't a real desert but the few places to really rest under a shade or near water weren't as prominent like in other parts of this country. John was happy that he had a fitting hat to shield his face from the sun. He had been traveling for three days now and had yet to see another town that he could rest in. It had been a year now after his master died and the slave wasn't really sure what to do at this point. The foreigner enjoyed the silence that reigned over him during his ride. And he was sure that that he could enjoy a life as a 'cowboy'. John wasn't sure where that term came from but his limited understanding of the english language wasn't something he wanted to fret about. The slave was happy that his master took the time to teach him even the basic things about this language. Now that brought him back in time.

 

It had been a week since he had been stolen from his parents summer house, clad in chains and brought to a large ship. Even though he was only five at that time, he understood that nobody would be his ally here. If he screamed, someone would just punch him. Nobody would save him, so he accepted his fate and kept silent. The large ship he was practically 'stored' in, had others of his sort. Foreigners, all different and yet in the same boat (ahaha my jokes are lame). They had different skin colour than him and some even had different body shapes. A large male with a deep brown skin colour tried to tell him something, yet as a small kid he could not understand. His own tongue wasn't the best and when the other tried to speak to him in another language he felt even worse. Though he was a small kid, he could understand that the other pitied him, or at least tried to comfort him. Kidnapping and selling into slavery- ähem i mean recruiting as free workers, wasn't really common in germany, at least not officially. So there weren't much germany people reported missing, his own case long given up uppon. So basically John was the only german kid on board. Now he wasn't even able to count the pitying glances that were sent his way and he was sick of every of them.

 

It took probably a week or two (he couldn't keep track of time but it felt like forever) till they reached the land that would be his home for the years to come. On board of the ship it was a daily thing to work and to obey the higher ones. So John was trained in knowing when to do or not do anything. The harsh lashes were more than enough to make a small kid listen to someone. So he wasn't surprised or even asked when he was 'sold' to someone as a free worker. His new master was the highest bidding on him (which was a lot mind you since he is 'special') and was trying to get him. For whatever reason he didn't really know. Probably to keep up his appearence as the wealthiest mean at that time. The Wharton family was known for the riches the workers brought to light in the mines to the south. It was the first mine to be oppened and it brought riches to the Wharton name, thus making it the most famous at that time. But soon enough other mines were opened and though the Wharton family stood it's ground, it wasn't the richest anymore.

 

But back to the main course of his past. So John was 'adopted', as it was properly stated in some certificates, into the Wharton family. The truth was far away though. He might have been 'adopted' but he was treated as the slave he was ment to be. Even at his age of five it was expected for him to work on the large plantation the Wharton family owned. Of course it started with smaller things like collecting the fruits/crops but soon evolved into the harder work the older he got. Along the way his master couldn't stand that he wasn't able to hold a conversation for him or at least talk like 'yes' or 'no'. So he thought him the basics of understanding english and a few vocabulars too. Due to the fact that both possesed different tongues, it was harder to make John understand what his master wanted of him. But eventually he got it. Around the age where he was considered a 'teenager', meaning fourteen to fifteen, he.....engaged into other activities. His master wanted to establish a 'connection' so that John wouldn't thing about fleeing. He did grew into a rather strong young lad after all. It didn't really bother John, since he knew that resistence never worked. The brand on his lower back made it clear to everyone who saw it anyway. No matter how he tried to resist, in this land he would always be known as a slave, or free worker apparently, by the mark.

 

Someday, out of the blue, his master decided to do a journey in which John should accompany him as his little 'Watch dog' since his master always compared his name to a labrador. The slave soon understood that his master just wanted to try the lifestyle of a cowboy, a man helping people and arresting outlaws without a place to call home. Some....wandering Sameritian apparently. As much bullshit it was to John, it wasn't to his master so he didn't dare say anything. Though he could talk decent english now (since he tried to learn more over the years by listening) he was still a bit uneasy when talking to strangers. So like a good dog he was he followed his master and listened to his demands. Though the circumstances weren't really good, John was beginning to enjoy being with his master. During his teen years he noticed that it could have been much worse. At least he wasn't send to the mines. So he was grateful for the life he was living, even though he wished it wouldn't be as a slave. His masters intentions obviously weren't the best for him, but he did provide John with a life that wasn't as bad as other slaves.

 

A year ago his master was killed in a fight with an outlaw while trying to help people. John of course killed the outlaw and brought it's dead body to the sheriff of the town they decided to help. After that point, John was at a loose on what to do. He had not master now, meaning he was free as far as the term went. Though he didn't love his master, something akin to like had been growing inside him and it was devasting to see him die. Normally his master was to decide where to travel next but now he was gone and so the decision making. John continued traveling the land, but not really finding his new goal in life. A part of him wanted to return to his homeland and maybe meet his parents but a larger chunk of him just wanted to continue this life as a cowboy. It was thrilling at points but also soothing for his broken mind.

 

So for a year now he had continued to do his deeds along, without his masters guidiance and he was faced to make his own decisions. He helped other people again but didn't want to stay in a town for too long. If the others of the Wharton family found out about his masters dead, they will probably be seeking him to claim him as a slave yet again. And John didn't want to return to that life, not without his former master. At least he knew what to expect from him. From the cousin, Sir Walter Wharton he wasn't so sure. There were rumours that he was pretty harsh to his slaves. And no, John could say that he didn't want that. So he did not intend to return to the Wharton manor and continued this lifestyle till today.

 

He was ripped out of his reminiscence of the past and jerked his horse to a stop. Ahead was a large city and just now did he notice the large steel bars laying on the ground. A train rail and ahead was probably Deserst Reach. John had been searching for the town and even asked a small village about it. The train didn't only bring wares, it also brought information. And John needed the information. He wanted to find a few informations about the latest news, the blood feud and some infos about nearby towns he could travel too. He also hoped to find a few informations on a possible sailing towards his homeland. Clicking his tongue, he ordered his horse, Valentine, to continue their path towards the town. John already knew though, that he shouldn't stand here to long, a few nights at most. In larger citys were more nobleman and it proved to be danger to John. The Wharton family probably arranged a search for his body already. They wouldn't let go of such an interesting foreign slave after all.

[Impulse]

Ahanu gave a gentle exhale and brushed his dark hair out of his face as he walked along the road to Desert's Reach. He could have easily rode his horse out to the town, but he preferred to walk. It gave the young man time to think, and he himself was a daydreamer. He disliked diplomatic duties for many reasons. For one, it reminded him of the ways that he was told to serve his father due to his dual gender 'gift'. The blasted female spirit in him was giving him a hard time as of late. Secondarily, when he went to speak for his father, he always had to be careful about his words, and he could never fully speak his own mind. He was always forced to speak for the whole tribe. Thirdly, and funnily enough the most prominent reason, was that he had to wear moccasins. There was nothing that Ahanu hated more than being forced to wear shoes. Ever since he was little, he had rejected moccasins. He loved the feel of his callused skin against the soft, warm earth. In an odd way, it comforted him. He could never understand why though. With all of this, he couldn't help pouting slightly as he walked into Desert's Reach to speak with the new Sheriff.

 

He had mixed feelings about having a new Sheriff. Sheriff Murphy had generally been good to his people. Native Americans everywhere were facing oppression, but here his tribe had been happy for the most part. He knew that a lot of white men wouldn't give him or his father the time of day. They generally found his two-spirit ways to be discomforting. Unfortunately, Ahanu was the only one who was able to speak well enough English to meet with the Sheriff of the nearby town whenever his father couldn't make the trip. One of his most valued warriors had fallen ill, and he had to be there to attend what could be the warrior's last moments. This weighed heavily on Ahanu's heart, but he knew that it was his place to meet with this new Sheriff. He simply hoped that this 'Jed' figure would not be offended by the Chief not coming to meet him in person. That happened a lot when Ahanu was sent to give word to other people, and it frustrated the young male to no end.

 

His slender yet callused fingers brushed his dark hair behind his ears as he walked to the sheriff's office, poking his head in only to find it empty. It would appear to him that Ben and Jed had left elsewhere. He rolled his eyes lightly, squinting in the sun as he looked around the town. He then began to pad off and do what he disliked the most. Talking to people he didn't know. Really, the job of a diplomat could not have been more unfitting for the socially awkward, mixed gender, Native American. He questioned a few people around the town if they had seen the Sheriff, new or old, and after a while he was finally pointed to the brothel. That thought also made his stomach turn. He knew that there was supposed to be a meet and greet soon that he could attend to question him so he decided to sit outside and wait for that.

 

Being early he decided to wander around a little and kill some time. After all, it would take a bit for the meet and greet that was to take place later on on the evening. As he walked down the road, looking for a familiar face that he could perhaps speak with, he felt himself drifting off into a day dream. It was memories of his mother, which immediately brought his spirits down slightly. He knew that thinking of his mother should be a positive thing, but ever since her death he had only become sick while remembering her soft and gentle touch. If white men had such a problem with feminine traits, he couldn't understand why they got so upset over people insulting their mothers. He didn't know if their majority had full appreciation of the female gender. He snorted as he looked at the brothel.

No. Definitely not.

 

He then blinked a few times as he looked and saw John walking down the road into town. The only thing that caught Ahanu's eye more than a familiar face was an unfamiliar one. He cocked his head to the side in a rather cute manner before looking John over. He saw the way his body was toned, the kind of muscle that came from hard physical labor. He observed the horse as well. The horse looked well taken care of, at least. He generally liked those that treated their animals well. He internally debated approaching the new figure, though he didn't know if it was his place to welcome someone to a town that he didn't even live in. The male caught his attention though. After all, he was quite attractive...

 

Ahanu felt a blush flood to his cheeks at his thoughts before he shook them out, walking toward John and blinking a few times. His large, dark brown eyes looked up at John. The dark color of his eyes had a slightly red tint to them when the sun glared in them, as they were doing now. Looking at Ahanu, his gender was entirely undefinable. He was toned enough to have more of a labor-filled build, but his figure and clothing was all feminine styled. His long dark hair wasn't styled at all, as it hung straight down over his shoulders, laying over his chest. It was certainly longer than the average male's. However, his eyes had a more square and angular shape to them. Then there was the long, dark eyelashes. This man was made of contradictions. He was certainly puzzling to look at head on.

 

"Hello...my name is Ahanu. I live from the tribe near this place. What brings you to Desert's Reach?" He questioned softly, his accent making some of the words hard to understand. He also spoke a little slower than most. If Ahanu spoke too fast, his words were often lost in his accent. His voice did not bring any clues as to what this person's actual gender's was. For a male, his voice was very soft and gentle, but for a woman's it was slightly deep. However, it wasn't a forced high pitch. It was just naturally smooth and higher. Ahanu knew as he spoke with the man that his feminine spirit was going to be more prominent.

 

He looked at John, looking at him more now that he was up close to him. He was trying to examine as much as he could about the stranger, but he was a bit mysterious to Ahanu. There was not much he could read in the stranger's eyes, so he couldn't help being curious about conversing with him. All he could hope was that the stranger was friendly. He was certain that if he could strike a conversation with the man, perhaps he could kill enough time between that moment and the meet and greet to talk politics with the new Sheriff. He groaned inwardly at the thought, and turned his focus back to the person at hand.

[ravenwyck]

Jeb awoke from his short nap feeling refreshed but gritty. Experimentally, he sniffed himself. At least he'd been on the train and not in the saddle. He was accustomed to the dirt and dust of the trail, but he'd been trained to understand that women had no appreciation for such things and just pampered enough to have developed an appreciation for hot baths himself.

 

He was just considering whether he had time to for the water to heat when he heard a knock at the door. In the hall was stood a slender brunette, she'd been beautiful once. But the years were already beginning to take their toll on the woman's face. She'd been Lady's Lot before Jeb had ever visited that first time. Her name was Kate and while she was merely pretty now, she had a bold, flirtatious nature that was incredibly attractive. Jeb smiled wide, just for her, before noticing the two boys carrying a large copper wash tub between them.

 

"Long time no see, Jeb." Kate's smile was an inviting and dazzling thing when you ignored the one missing tooth on the bottom row. A drunken customer had knocked it one night years ago. The customer had lost more and Kate seemed to take it all in stride. "Aunty said you'd be wanting your bath. Water's ready now. The boys will carry it up."

 

Jebediah moved away from the door, opening it wide for the two boys. A nostalgic moment washed over him and he wondered how many times he'd carried similar tubs up to similar rooms, himself. He shook the thoughts away and turned his attention to the woman now sitting on his bed. "You going to stay and watch?" Jeb questioned with a grin.

 

"Help actually." Kate's answering smile was suggestive and there was a sponge and a bar of soap already in her small hands. "Hopeless man like you, someone needs to scrub your back."

 

****

 

There was more water on the floor than left in the tub when Kate hurried out of the room half naked, giggling, and soaking wet. It had been a quick bath. Jeb regretted not having more time to spend on the endeavor but he still wanted to wander town a bit before the party. He was content enough with the fact that Kate's smile had been more genuine and less aggressive as she'd left.

 

As he strapped on his gun, Maria, and headed down the stairs, Jeb thought of Mamma Rose. Rose hadn't been his real mother, of course. TB had taken his real mother when he'd been only a boy. Mamma Rose had been the woman who'd saved him from starvation and death. And if she hadn't actually acted anything like his real mother, well she was a whore. His own mother, like his father, had been a deeply religious woman. And Rose was 'motherly' in her own way. She was after all older than his own mother and she had taught him many lessons. Most of them had been about how to treat a lady and how to act like a man. The lessons that hadn't made his face burn and his body ache with need had even been similar to what he remembered of his mother's beliefs.

 

Jeb shook off the latest wave of nostalgia as he stepped into the taproom. The Lady's Lot always reminded him of that first brothel, his first real home. He'd been in most of the brothels from the Appalachians to the Nevadas. Some were fancier than The Lot, some had more beautiful women, one had even had a boy who'd very nearly stolen his heart, but only a few gave him the same instant feeling of comfort he'd experienced in Rose's brothel, Desert Doves. The Lot was such a place and Desert's Reach was a fine town. Jeb had known that since his very first stay.

 

Ann spotted Jeb quickly and broke off her conversation to make her way over, reaching out to him. Jeb smiled, taking the offered hand. Bowing over it gracefully, he turned it over in his hand, placing a soft kiss in her palm. "Why Lady Ann, your hospitality is even greater than I remember. I continue to live in awe of your beauty and thoughtfulness." Jeb winked at the madame as he rose and was pleased to note the blush that stained her cheeks.

 

Ann's upturned palm caught Jeb's chin before he could finish rising and he grinned up at her as she admonished him with a stern voice but smiling eyes. "I've told you countless times to call me Aunty or just Ann. And you're only gushing about my hospitality because you've already had a go at one of my girls. Kate from the looks of her. At least you actually managed to do a bit of cleaning up while you were at it." Ann moved his head around as if examining his cleanliness. Jeb waited patiently. He was a grown man. But, if it made the 'Aunty' happy to occasionally treat him like some wayward child, he wouldn't deny her the pleasure. Releasing his chin, Ann rubbed her fingers together distastefully. "You're getting scruffy. You should see the barber before the party tonight."

 

Standing at his full height once more, Jeb placed his own hand on Ann's chin, tilting her head up to look him in the eyes. Speaking softly, Jeb leaned closer. "Why, my Lady. I'm hurt. Who's hands could I trust with such an intimate task but yours? You know how I hate barbers. Besides, some women think it makes me look rugged" He cooed in her ear.

 

"If I don't do it you'll just shave it yourself with one of those 'hundreds' of knives your hiding, wont you?" Ann muttered the thought as if shaving with a knife were blasphemy.

 

Jeb shrugged, "I'll probably just use the one strapped on my leg, but you've got the right idea." He rubbed the rough hair in question against the side of her cheek before kissing her ear. "But it'll be more fun for both of us if you do it."

 

Placing both hands on his chest, Ann finally pushed him away. She glared at him for a moment, but finally a smile broke across her face. "Fine, fine. You win. A shave it will be." She replied with a laugh.

 

Grabbing her in a tight hug, Jeb returned the smile. "After the welcome gig, then. I haven't time to devote to a 'proper' shave now." His tone insured her that the 'proper' part of his proper shaving really had nothing do with anything that might be considered proper at all. Ann was well beyond the age of servicing customers herself with any regularity, but she was still incredibly beautiful many ways and Jeb delighted in reminding her of the fact. "I'm going to wander a bit before heading down to the meeting hall. There's been a lot of building since the last time I was here and I want to refresh myself with the the terrain. My heart will yearn for you until I see you again, my dearest Ann."

 

It was as silly and overdone as his first line, but Jeb was rewarded with another of the rubenesque women's rare blushes before her tongue once more cut in. "Your body, now that I might believe. But your heart, I believe that yearns for something else entirely than the doves you spend most of your free time with. Now off you go. If you mean to be wandering, you better get to it. I'll be at the welcome party this evening. After all, I am a local businesswoman and your new landlady."

 

Jeb considered Ann's words as placed his hat on and headed out into the street. It was well known that Jeb courted women of 'substance' as easily and successfully as prostitutes. All women were a treasure, to be both pampered and protected no matter their station in life. But many believed that despite his habits, he was only waiting for the right 'respectable' girl to start a family with. Somehow, he didn't think that was what Ann had meant, at all. The thought almost made him shudder. The woman really was too sharp.

[SqueezeBabe]

He could hear the sounds of the township starting to wake up; dogs barking, horses nickering and the clang and thump of machinery. He lay on the bed for a few moments more, letting the sounds wash over him before he eased himself back up with a sigh. He couldn’t really lay about in bed like the girls did, even though he did do the same sort of “work” as they did, it was nowhere near as strenuous. His clients were picked and chosen with care, screened by Aunty Ann before he even saw them. Lala serviced those clients who had some rather particular tastes, all sworn to secrecy, the money they paid worked both ways. Mojag also worked; his clientele consisted of the widowed women, and spinsters of the town. He was more discrete than having an affair, and in aid of this, his room was the one closest to the back entrance of the brothel. All his clients were strictly by appointment only, often at least a week in advance, to avoid either schedules from clashing.

 

When he wasn’t servicing his clients, he was in the kitchen preparing the food for the girls and clients alike. Cooking was something that he’d always done, transferring his skills from an open fire to a kitchen took a little getting used to, but soon enough he was turning out food better than most of them had eaten previously. Fresh baked bread, griddled ham, and eggs for breakfast and of course a pot of the bitter black coffee that had become everyone’s favourite. In a normal hotel, bread would start baking before the sun came up, but here at Lady’s Lot, some of the girls didn’t even get out of bed until 10, so he didn’t have to start quite so early.

 

He moved silently through the building, his feet encased in soft leather moccasins. He’d traded with the local Indian tribe for them, preferring to wear them indoors, and occasionally when he felt the pull of the mountains, he’d “disappear” for a few days, leaving behind the western trappings, preferring to be dressed in the buckskin trousers. The clothes were as traditional as we was going to get, the patterns and cuts different from what he was used to, but they were still from his people, and reminded him of home.

 

Most of the baking and been done by the time the first of the girls had wandered into the kitchen. He smiled politely and plated her some food, setting it down on the table in front of her accompanied by a steaming cup of coffee. He was always polite with the “new” girls; only the ones that had been with Aunty Ann the longest knew that Mojag was really Lala, the newer girls just thought Mojag was the hired help, kept around because he was easy on the eye and didn’t talk back; he wasn’t “wild” like his cousins, he was a tame savage. From the very beginning, Aunty Ann had pulled him to the side and lectured him rather extensively that he wasn’t to use the girls himself; they had enough to worry about without pining over his hot ass (her words, not his).

 

Soon enough Aunty Ann came in too, fussing over the girls like a mother hen, even though he wasn’t very tall for a man, he was still taller than the diminutive woman. He bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek as he served her up her breakfast and was awarded with one of her winning smiles. She reached up and have his cheek a pat, “He’ll be here soon” she offered, “Have you decided what you’re going to do yet? You know you can’t keep running from him forever.” He bit his lip and looked away, giving her all the answer she needed. Of course he couldn’t keep running away, but what was the alternative? He wanted to thank the man for saving him at least, but somewhere along the way, something as simple as that, suddenly became very complicated.

 

X-----X-----X-----X-----X

 

He’d been cleaning up in the kitchen when Jebediah arrived. He felt his stomach clench into tight knots and his palms became damp. Looking down at himself, he realised that he wouldn’t have enough time to change into Lala to be there - it could take him up to an hour to prepare himself appropriately, longer than any of the girls, but of course he had a little more to deal with. Lala had clients later that evening, after the welcoming party; he would be too busy getting ready to actually attend it.

 

He made his way past the groups of giggling girls who were all clamouring to get a good look at the Sheriff who was going to be using the brothel like a hotel, and hidden by one of the balcony posts, he caught a glimpse of the man he’d been hiding from for the last five years.

 

The years hadn’t changed him very much, he didn’t look rugged or weather-beaten at all. He swallowed a few times, the knots in his stomach intensifying as Aunty Ann had thrown herself into the waiting arms. He turned away from the reunion and quickly made his way back to his own room. He knew exactly which room Jeb would be staying in, far enough away from the working girls that he wouldn’t interfere with their work, but then somehow he was also far away from his own room; he guessed for the same reason, it wouldn’t do for the ladies of the town to be caught indulging in their own vices by the new Sheriff. He was surprised to hear the sounds of conversation coming down the hallway; by some freak of acoustics and design, the words were as audible as if he were in the room with them. He could feel his cheeks colouring as she admonished the both of them, but true to her promise, she didn’t give his secret away.

 

He heard her footsteps come down the hall, pause at the front of his door, and then keep going. Did she know that her words had been heard? The thought of causing the woman who had taken him in as one of his own any sort of disappointment strengthened a newly found resolve to sort the situation out. He couldn't just walk in and announce himself, as well as not wanting to cause Aunty Ann any trouble, he didn't want to see the disappointment that Jebediah would surely feel when he found out that the fair Indian maiden he'd rescued wasn't a maiden at all. Either way, Lalawethika would have to sound the situation out before he made the appropriate action; to either reveal his true "self", or approach the Sheriff as Lala and thank him for his kindness and leave it at that, making sure to avoid any possible advances.

 

He'd heard Aunty Ann mention lunch, reminding him that he'd probably need to go back into the kitchen and start preparing. Lunch was the largest meal of the day, the girls usually too busy for a large and heavy meal in the evening, so ensured that there was enough left over from lunch that smaller portions could be quickly eaten should the girls get hungry later on. The midday meal was usually a stew with the left over breakfast bread, the leftovers kept in the large cast iron pot that retained its heat next to the fire. Between him and Aunty Ann, they made sure the girls were the healthiest they could be with plenty of vegetables and fruit when in season, his own work on the small farm supplementing the staples that came by train and wagon.

 

X-----X-----X-----X-----X

 

The lunch preparation had taken a good hour; working around the late girls who demanded breakfast, he'd managed to prepare a simple yet filling beef stew that was now simmering on the kitchen stove. It would be right to continue simmering until the girls were ready for their lunch, he'd even made a quick batch of fresh bread to go with it, knowing that the crunchy little loaves with their doughy centres would be the perfect accompaniment. He hadn't missed the boys taking firewood from the storeroom stack either; that meant that the boiler was being stoked for hot water and that meant a bath. It was technically too early for the girls, as well as being well fed, Aunty Ann insisted on appropriate hygiene, and that meant the luxury of a hot bath at least once a day. The girls all bathed together in the large spacious bathroom; he of course bathed alone, when he could he preferred the brisk mountain stream, but couldn't deny the luxury of a hot bath after a hard day.

 

On his way back from the kitchen, he spied Kate making a dash for it, giggling like a girl half her age. She saw him and changed her direction, giving him a kiss on the cheek that matched the twinkle in her eye. "That MAN!" she exclaimed with a wink, her cheeks still pink from her activities, "Men like him, make this job worth it..." she sniffed experimentally, "Is that lunch I can smell?" He grinned and nodded. Kate had been with Aunty Ann years before he arrived and she was one of the few who knew that he was also Lala; often helping him get ready for his clients. She was also somewhat sympathetic to his predicament, but often said that she wasn't the right sort of woman to help him out. "He's getting himself ready to go out, probably to reacquaint himself with the town and folks before the party later, if you want to see him, now is your chance." She rearranged the towel and gave his arm a consoling squeeze and then made her way back down the hallway and to her own rooms.

 

Lalawethika ducked inside his own room, changing out of the shirt he'd been cooking in and into a fresh clean one and slipping his feet into the well worn boots he used for the outdoors. He re-tied his hair into a low pony tail and made his way out the back door. He made a judgement on which direction Jebediah would likely be going and began walking ahead. He had his own errands to take care of for the time being, but that didn't mean he couldn't keep an eye on the Sheriff had he did so... and he couldn't be accused of following the man if he was already ahead of him...

[InkompleteWish]

*clip clop* Valentine's hoofed feet continued along the dried road. It soon turned into a stone road, worn down over the course of decays. Desert's reach was a beautiful town, between mountains, desert and small villages that is. It was far from the water, the ocean, so there weren't many humans living here. But those that did, knew nothing else. Not the sunset near the ocean or the lush vegetation and animals. The Wharton Manor, where John grew up in, was in one of the largest towns near the shores, called Desert Falls (since there was so much water). The slave could remember the longing he felt to explore the town and its surroundings, maybe even step into the cool ocean water. Yet he never was able to do so, he was only able to look at the swaying waves from his quarters. And then he went on this journey, it was such a shame. There were so many things that John wanted to see, to feel, yet he never really got the chance. He is a slave, even though his master died, the foreigner was still a 'family member' of the Whartons and thus he was still in thier grasps.

 

He huffed, shoving the depressind thoughts away. John regarded Desert's Reach carefully, it was the first bigger town he would be staying in. The need to book a hotel or something of the like was also rising up. Sleeping on the cold hard ground during the night wasn't really thrilling to say the least. //I should go to the barber either way, restock my food, gather information and maybe spent a few days here. Valentine is probably also tired from the long journey.// as if on cue, the dark brown tinted mustang neighed. John reached over and patted his companion. Now both of them were alone and somehow Valentine developed the habit to not leaving him alone. It wasn't really surprising since he had lost a member of his herd and the great mustang probably feared for it to happen again. Especially since Valentine and John basically grew up together. A small smile spread across John's face. There weren't always bad times in his time and he enjoyed every moment when he remembered something like this. Valentine would probably his first and his last horse. No, the mustang wasn't a pet or working animal, he was a friend and family member. Always staying with him, even in the darkest times. It was nice to think like that sometimes.

 

The didn't idle longer though, with a small "Go." John steered himself and his friend closer into the town. It didn't take long for stares to pop up. A stranger wasn't always welcomed in town, especially if he was clad like John. It was a habit, to keep the long cowboy hat as deep as possible to shield his face from the scorching sand and the bandana around the othe half of his face was to protect himself from the whirling sand. The dark trousers and the black cowl didn't help either. The only thing that wasn't black or dark was his undershirt, which was white in colour. Though his clothes were dark in colour, his slightly but still rather whitish skin (from his origin), his sandy coloured middle lengthed, spiked hair and his greenish brown eyes were making the situation better. John wasn't short or tall either, the usual avarage for a male of his age. His body was trained due to the labor he did in his life but he wasn't bulky. He was rather thin since he didn't eat much, though his master always scolded him for it, but he still had a 'normal' figure. Other than the bandana, hat and cowl, he was wearing a leather colour, dark brown in colour, yet it was most of the times hidden under the bandana. It was a present of his master, though it was obviously a joke John began to treasure it after his masters death. It was the only think that he kept after all. The collar and his memories.

 

The stares grew more in more, people even stopped to watch the newcomer for any signs of danger. John didn't intend to do anything but he needed to ask someone where the next tavern was and if all of them were afraid of him then his search would be much harder. Called it destiny or something but someone drew closer to him, seemingly not as frightened as the other town people. The slaves eyes tried to pinpoint the gender of the other human. It was hard to tell, but he was most definitly from indian origin. The slave same many indians and thus he was able to distinguish them from other people. And though it wasn't common, it wasn't weird either for their people to match both genders. The long hair all of them kept were making it even harder. "--Ahanu. I live from the tribe near this place. What brings you to Desert's Reach?" his eyes snapped away from the person and he once again focused on the matter at hand. He didn't hear the first part of the sentence but it wasn't important.....hopefully.

 

It wasn't easy for the foreigner to understand the others english. It had an accent and since John wasn't really good at speaking either, he settled usually with short sentences. "My name is John. I am searching for information." he replied to the other in a deeper, but easy on the ears, voice his real intentions not having been said yet. Basically, he was named John Wharton, since his papers stated that he was adopted into the family and thus receiving the surname. But it was much easier to just call himself John, it saved him the trouble of getting found easier. "I search for an inn, could you show me?" he asked the smaller one (since he was sitting on a horse). His english was spiked with a different accent then most and here and there were a few words missing or not correct but he was happy to at least be able to talk to someone on a normal basis.

 

It wouldn't do good if he continued walking around in his outfit like that. So John slid down from Valentine, tugged the bandana down and let his hat fall on his back (the hats with that sling thing there dont know what it's called). His slightly almond shaped eyes fell towards he other again. The indian was till a mit shorter than himself but not by much. The slave gripped Valentine's reins in his right hand, ordering his friend to not go around and explore the town. The mustang was fairely curious, it was a bit annoying sometimes.

[Wolfenone]

Honiahaka Little Wolf

 

He is a warrior, hunter, son of the Chief of the Tribe, handsome, tall, strong, all common knowledge, all too plain.

 

Within every man lies something deep inside, something that has to be kept hidden from those he calls family and loved ones. It doesn’t matter how well you bury this something, it will never be hidden from the owners mind. His darkness is that for the taste of male flesh, not the supple curvy softness of the women, the hard plains and valleys of a man is so much more seductive.

 

He keeps his desires hidden from his people.

 

His people aren’t as nomadic as some tribes are but their land is vast. Their common form of trade is horse breeding, not the fancy type that maidens ride or the rich show off. These horses are bred for long journeys, hard rides, and in combat. They look ugly with large foreheads, short broad bodies with muscle enough to carry two grown warriors. Yes they also have the fancy horses for the folk that want something pretty to ride, they take pride in all their stock however, and a stallion has never left their grounds. Only the mares are sold off, even on the fancy breeds.

 

His tribe did well, also the tough leather they get from the horses when they can no longer act as horses or are too sick to save, make clothes that they trade. Jewelry that the women weave and baskets and pottery also are traded with the local town of Desert Reach.

 

Speaking of Desert Reach, the messenger that arrived a few days ago had informed his father and the rest of the tribe of a new Sheriff that will be running the town. He had only been paying half attention trying to keep his pet, the gray wolf at his side, from outright mauling the poor man. It wasn’t strange that his father choose to send one of his younger brothers to go meet this man and try and keep a healthy working relationship. It had been agreed on and the terms set.

 

In the night is when the dark plays. He had seen this messenger before, so when Honiahaka entered the tent on the night before his brother was to leave for Desert Reach, it hadn’t been a surprise to the man. The pale skin of the messenger was such a contrast to his darker skin when he ran a hand over the other’s face, his thumb touching the simple lips. The messenger opened his mouth. Honiahaka smirked at the pale man before pushing him down to the furs.

 

Sitting on the furs, his body relaxing as he stroked the messenger’s hair, the pale man was asleep already. “No stamina,” Honiahaka teased him as the other nuzzled the Indian’s thigh. He wasn’t really one for cuddling after, so he moved the pale man’s head to the side. The messenger watched as Honiahaka dressed and left his tent.

 

One of his younger brothers left with the messenger ahead of him the next morning. The younger ones were always better at this diplomatic thing of talking to the pale skins and the trade that they could offer.

So after a weeks’ time when his father came to him and told him to go to Desert Reach to make sure everything was going smoothly, as well as take a few of the stock of horses. Because he wasn’t a Chief yet, he didn’t have a choice but to do as his father requested. Gathering his clothes for an extended stay, he didn’t like being sent to look after his little brother, the man was supposed to be an adult and an active member of the tribe. So he was already leaving in a bad mood.

 

He took three battle mares with him as he traveled to the Desert Reach. His journey kept him in a sour mood. His gray wolf traveled beside him as he wore his warriors pelt most of the ride. The wolf pelt was held on with the front paws over his chest, the hood he had down. He had long black hair like all his tribe, his was in a simple braid however, without the feathers and beads that some favor.

 

The town came into view a few days after he left. He rode to the start of the town before dis mounting and walking his and the other three horses into the town. His first order of business is to find an Inn and stable for his mares. He could see that the town as getting ready for some kind of celebration, he could see the pale skins preparing.

[ravenwyck]

Jebediah strolled through town with a lazy gait. The sun still stood high in the cloudless sky, bathing the citizens of Deserts Reach in its unforgiving heat. Jeb pulled his hat low over his eyes, ignoring the harsh rays. The shindig wouldn't get started until sunset, but there was plenty to be done until then. There were still arrangements to be made before he could call himself settled in and, as his Pa had taught him, “sooner started, was sooner finished.”

 

The telegraph office was Jeb’s first stop. There were a few people who needed to be informed of his safe arrival, but primarily, he needed to arrange to have some of his funds wired to Deserts Reach. Fortune had favored Jebediah more than he had ever deserved. The truth was he had enough money to keep himself in brothels and booze for the rest of his life without so much as a single day of work to help earn his keep. Brothels, booze, and a bit of gambling were excellent ways to pass your extra time, but it was no way to really live. Life should have more purpose than that.

 

Walking out of the office, Jebediah’s fingers twitched, his hand moving discretely to one of the many knives hidden in his duster as his gaze shifted, examining the scene around him carefully. He was cautious not to give away his sudden tension, quickly dispelling it from his body. After only a moment’s hesitation Jeb continued to stroll down the street. The tingle between his shoulders didn’t let up. He was sure someone was watching him. He couldn’t explain the instinct that occasionally alerted him to danger, but he never questioned it. In truth, the intensity of the attention focused on him was hard to miss, but it didn’t seem malignant in nature and he couldn’t see any trace of the presence he felt. It was natural enough for people to be curious about him and more than few recognized him enough to gawk a bit or greet him.

 

The next few errands were uneventful. Jeb stopped by the stable to check on Zephyr. He had liberated the horse from a bandit years ago and the two had been companions ever since. Zephyr was a beautiful black mustang with both speed and stamina, but he was capricious beast and Jeb was surprised and pleased to discover there hadn’t been any issues. The general store had been a similar success. The items they had would be sent to his room. The others could be expected to arrive in just a few weeks by train.

 

Despite finishing his order quickly, Jebediah lingered in the store. It was an excellent place to pick up gossip. And though gossip could rarely be trusted in itself, It did give a relatively accurate gauge of the mood of a town. Women filtered through the shop throughout the day, pausing to chat amongst themselves about the last news as they acquired the items needed for their homes. Jeb found himself quickly swallowed by their conversation. Many of the ladies he recognized, others fluttered and flushed as he introduced himself for the first time.

 

With charm and compliments and honest caring Jebediah slowly wheedled out their gossip, and secrets and five offers for dinner. Jeb had a knack for making each woman feel equally special without ever crossing the bounds of propriety designated by their position. It was a complicated dance and though the women never seemed jealous of each other, more than once, despite his care, he’d still managed to find himself talking down an angry husband.

While it was good to hear that, over all, the women in town were happy with their lives and it was interesting to learn that Anne had been employing a native to service female customers (He did wonder why he hadn’t heard about it from Anne herself, as apparently the man had been quite successful. Anne knew his own history, but she should know he wasn’t sensitive about it), primarily Jeb had been looking forward to the dinner invitations. He’d eaten at some of the finest restaurants in the country, but nothing beat a home cooked meal. Widows had always held their own place in Jeb’s heart. Life on the frontier was rarely easy and for a woman alone, and possibly trying to raise a family, it could be a rough lot. Having dinner with them was more than a free meal, it was a chance to help ease their stress.

 

It was just beginning to set when Jeb exited the shop with an armful of Mrs. Brooks’ items. She’d been widowed only two years and though she seemed to be fine financially, based on her purchases, there was a tension in her body and a tightness around her eyes the betrayed her strain despite her optimistic demeanor. At thirteen her son was a handful and she rarely knew where he spent most of his day. No one had bothered to build a school yet and Jeb wasn’t surprised. She and Jeb discussed the problem on the way to her home and by the time he bid her farewell at the door with a promise to return again for dinner, he’d also told her to have her son come down to the office in the morning and she’d put him to work running errands for him around town. The extra money wouldn’t hurt their family and keeping him busy and productive would keep the boy out of trouble and help teach him responsibility. As his boot scraped paint from the well worn picket fence surrounding the house, he had the boys first job already well in mind.

 

Humming as he walked Jebediah turned his direction and his attention toward the party that would start soon near the towns center and the next group of people he needed to assess. Women were easy and a pleasure, besides. Businessmen were not always easy, but generally they were simple. Profit ruled their world. Honest or dirty, that one principle remained true. Politicians and bureaucrats, on the other hand, were something else entirely. They were a twisted and mostly useless lot whose only purpose in life was to muddle up the affairs of decent folk. The only real mystery was the indian tribe. He’d spent some time with injuns in the past and even picked up a bit of Cherokee in his travels. But Jeb understood that the natives were a diverse and, often enough, violent lot and he was lucky to inherit such friendly relations. He was eager to reassure them in person that he intended to carry on the tradition his predecessor had established.

[SqueezeBabe]

He watched the new Sheriff walk out of the Telegraph office, taking note of the fingers that moved discreetly into his coat, as if he was just scratching an itch, but Lalawethika knew that it wasn't just an unconscious movement, that the man was fingering a weapon of some sort and he smiled, the new Sheriff had good instincts. Despite being kidnapped from his tribe at a young age, he was already a man by the tribes standards, and tracking and hunting were already ingrained into his being, so watching the new Sheriff was no different from stalking game in the wilderness… except this time his prey was much more canny. He regarded the other man with building curiosity as he watched him walk down the street and towards the public stables.

 

He was curious to see the beast that the Sheriff rode; he liked to think that he had a bit of an eye for horseflesh, often hanging around the traders when the local Indian tribe brought down their horses for trading. He carefully eyed Jeb as he left the stables and made his way to the General Store, his gaze lingering to make sure that the man wasn’t going anywhere else soon and ducked into the stables. He made small talk with the stable boys, they themselves in awe of the black stallion and glad to sneak him through for a gawk.

 

The black beast snorted and pawed the ground as he approached and he couldn’t help the grin that grew on his face. The beast was exactly as he remembered all those years ago; still magnificent looking and apparently still full of attitude according to the stable boys. He reached his hand out to the horse, holding out an apple that he’d brought just for his acquaintance with the horse, remembering that the beast had a particular fondness for the crunchy fruit. He rubbed the velvety nose as the horse happily crunched down his treat, nuzzling his hand for more. He gave the horse a final pat on his strong neck before sneaking back out of the stables and taking up a position opposite the General Store, somewhat relieved to see that Jeb was still there.

 

Lalawethika could see that the women of the town hadn’t taken long to warm up to the new Sheriff, coquettish looks and blushes seemed to be the order of the day, and the sight of the man fawning over the women filled him with apprehension. Whilst some of the women were actually his clients at the brothel, it wasn’t the fear of losing his income; he’d already made enough money to last him and he technically didn’t need to work any longer, rather he was doing it because he liked to think that he was helping them out, and the ladies in turn were rather generous with their affection. He shook his head to dispel the unfamiliar feeling and continued to watch the Sheriff until he left, arms full of packages and woman with him.

 

He chewed his lip, thinking that he’d already been absent from the brother long enough and that he would have to get back soon in order to start cooking for the evening, as well as getting himself ready for the clients he would be seeing later on; just because there was the welcoming party for the new Sheriff didn’t mean that people like the Mayor would give up their standing appointment with Lala . He hurried into the store to pick up the items that he knew would be waiting for him, making the obligatory small talk with the others before hurrying back to the brothel.

[InkompleteWish]

It hadn't been long before John went on his way again. The Indian man, he was able to identify, had told him everything that is important about the town. Where the shop or the barber is, where he can put Valentine into care and where he would be able to rest for his stay. Along the way to the stables, he picked up some gossips, mostly of himself he frowned. The ladies in this town where really talkative.....but nobody dared getting closer to help him around. Bunch of city people, the Indians he was staying with the last time he stopped where really friendly. John was actually tempted to not just stay with them. But alas, his circumstances were just to dangerous. If the Wharton family would have found him while staying with them.....they would surely kill them or take the Indians hostage for 'stealing' a slave. What irony. No it was far better to travel the land but it surely wasn't something John wished for. He longed for a place he could call home but his destiny has been sealed from the start. A peaceful life won't be granted to him; running away was all he could do.

 

Valentine snorted where John almost carelessly walked into a wooden pillar of the stable they wanted to reach. Thankfully that snapped him out of his own little world and he concentrated on the matter of hand. "Good day Sir. One day?" the stable boy ran up to him and asked the foreigner. That got John thinking. He didn't want to just stay for one night but he wouldn't want to stay longer than necessary either. But maybe, a little rest would be in order. "A week.....Paying more when I decide to stay longer." he spoke in his slightly broken english and handed the stable boy the money that was expected from him. John got no gold through taking out outlaws since he wasn't a clean person either but he did take some of the valuables the bandits or the like possessed and sold them in the towns shop to get money. It was enough to accommodate him and Valentine and to buy food. Of course he couldn't pay for luxury but what can you expect. Actually a bed was already luxury to John, who was used to sleeping on the hard ground in the wilds.

 

Valentine was soon tucked into a box, next to big black stallion that seemed to have his own little personality. The horse sniffed at Valentine, not even bothering with John. Valentine only neighed back. //At least they seem to like each other. Valentine won't be alone then.// John thought and stroked his friend once and nodded to the other horse before leaving the stable. Only to stop short at the wall of females that stood before him. They were watching from afar as another man walked out of the general store, also John's next step. Obviously the other was popular with the female folks around since as soon as the man left, so did his wall of fans. John only sighed and made his way inside. He made his way towards the 'can' food or more commonly known to him as the 'at least it doesn't get bad that fast' food. It wasn't much and it didn't really taste good but it would be able to survive the harsh weather in the desert and feed him for a few weeks at most. Soon the chime of the store bell rang and another Indian stepped into the store. His gaze briefly wandered over the other. It was unusual to see that many Indians in a town so something would happen soon he guessed. The rumours he picked up had been due to the new sheriff it seemed so maybe the Indian’s were here to greet him? Could be a possibility but not something John was interested. But it wouldn't hurt to look at the face he will have to avoid for the next few days or weeks.

 

The Indian soon left and thus John was able to buy and sell his stuff. His loot this time was some watches, some jewellery and other stuff. He pocketed the left over money that he got and stuffed the food and water into his large bag. John reminded himself to stuff them into the saddlebag. So without waiting he made his way to the stable again. After successfully packing everything neatly into it, he petted Valentine again and gave his friend a carrot. Now it would be time to go to the barbers. The slave still remembered the others attend to tell him where to go. So he walked off. It didn't take long for him to reach he barbers. Now a nice little trim and shaving his beard and he would feel nearly clean again. Hopefully the inn he would be staying in will have a bath or something.

 

-(OoC: skipping the barbers since i am too lazy) -

 

Stretching and yawning he made his way out of the shop and looked around. It was slowly getting darker, he sun also started to set. Now would be as good a time as any to find his 'home' for the next few weeks. After having being shaved and tidied up a bit, the other town's people were slightly more trusting towards the stranger. Since John didn't do anything yet of course. He got some directions to inns but they were all to far away from the stable to John. He liked being near his companion in case of emergencies so he couldn't stay at an in farther away. The only inn next to the stables was a bit run down but with an old lady running it. Lady Sarah was her name and she was happy to take care of a good looking male like John....those were just her words though. John could almost feel that the old lady was lonely. Of course it didn't take long for John to befriend the old lady and to get to know her better. Apparently she lost her husband in a fight outside the town, near the mines. Bandits had attacked the rails where the coal had been transported. The end wasn't a nice one but at least no bandit survived either. John found his place to stay for the night and he was more that willingly happy to help the old lady around the inn. Being a slave did have some strong points. John knew a bit about repairing things and his strong build was a big help to the old lady.

[Wolfenone]

The town was even busier on the inside once he was walking the streets. The folk seemed to stay a couple of paces away from him, or rather his companion at his side and the four beasts following him, the three he was to try and sell were lead tied to his personal mount which followed him around like the wolf did and didn’t seemed bothered by the people watching. The stables were in good enough condition and the stable hand ran up to him quickly. Asking him questions about the horses. Looking down Honiahaka pulled out a couple of cents, the pale skins form of trade, and dropped them in the lad’s hands before he moved to pick his stable boxes. Placing them each in a stall he started to rub down his personal mount. A horse was more than just a riding tool and it rather sickened him to think that people rode them and then stashed them away for a time. Just like the ones that ride them they get dirty and they like to be clean just as much if not more so. He spoke not of it, as he cared for each one of the horses that were with him before he even considered looking or lodgings for himself. It took time, as all things do and when he actually left the stables it was becoming dark and lanterns were going to be lit soon.

 

Walking down the street he shifted the weight of his packs on his shoulders as he watched the town gather. He had heard from the stable hands as they shoveled the used hay out of some empty boxes that the party was going to be for the new Sheriff. Lucky for him he wouldn’t have to hunt for the pale man. Going to an inn, not really caring which one, paid again with the pale man’s trade, and shown a room, he guessed he had to make himself presentable. Giving himself a quick wash off with the water provided and a cloth he changed into clean clothes from his packs. Dawning the wolf pet once more he left the room to make his way to the celebration.

 

His wolf on his heels once more, he followed the gathering noise of music and people talking. The only thing that he would have to do is find the Sheriff, new and old. He knew Sheriff Murphy, he traveled with his father’s convoy enough and the man had come to the tribe once or twice before. A quick scan of the gathering and he found the man easily enough. Moving his way over to him he stood behind and to the right of the man, his wolf walking up and brushing against the other’s right leg as the beast sat down and looked around at the crowd.

 

“My father sends his apologizes of not attending himself,” Honiahaka spoke, his English heavily accented with his own native tongue.

[ravenwyck]

Torches and oil lamps lit the street softening the effects of the sun’s dying light. From inside the town’s church, which also doubled as a meeting hall, a fiddle and piano matched each other in a lively tune. Jeb resisted the urge to dance just yet, there was business to be done first, after all. The church’s hall had been set up with refreshments and tables of food but most of the people had gathered outside and stood about in small groups talking amongst themselves.

 

Jeb noted each group and who was included in it. It was an open affair and he was pretty sure a good portion of the town had shown up. He pinned his badge on before wandering casually among the scattered people, greeting those he knew and introducing himself to those he didn't. Jeb had always liked the community feel of Deserts Reach as well as its accepting nature. No one looked sideways at the fact that the new sheriff had taken up residence in a brothel. They considered even native peoples among their friends and neighbors and Jeb was still elated to be asked to be part of it.

 

Too often Jeb had been called in to bring peace. Maintaining it would be a nice change, for a while. He and Sheriff Murphy had discussed his plan to take on a deputy or two. While the sheriff thought it was a great idea, he told Jeb that his own attempts to find someone in town who was both willing and able had ended in failure. It was something to consider at any rate and Jeb decided to keep his eyes and his options open in that regard. As he walked around the gathering, he began to see the truth of the man’s statement. The people of town were nice folk, and good people, but pacifists at their core. The problems he would face would likely come from the many travelers that passed through, rather than from within the town’s own population.

 

Looking around for the sheriff once more, Jebediah spotted Aunty Ann, her emerald dress was lovely in the growing twilight and he paused his search to greet her. He’d noticed a few of her girls around and those belonging to other house. Prostitution was given a fair amount of leeway in the town and while it occasionally surprised him, it had helped in his decision to settle here. As Jeb left the Madame’s side he wondered if he would see Lala tonight. He hadn't asked Ann. She’d already tried to warn him off. Before he could think of looking for her, an entirely different indian caught his eye. Beside the sheriff stood a tall indian man wearing a wolf pelt with what appeared to be a living wolf sitting at his feet. There was nothing of the town’s peaceful ways in the man’s look. Judging from the conversational tone, Jeb guessed it was the representative from the nearby tribe that he had been told he would meet. From the sheriff’s earlier words, he’d been expecting something entirely different, but there was no mistaking that this must be the man he had been waiting to meet.

[SqueezeBabe]

He’d just finished cleaning the kitchen when Aunty Ann stuck her head in to remind him to get ready for the night’s gathering. She clucked her tongue at him when he made a face and half-heartedly chased him out of the kitchen and towards his room, admonishing him to make sure that he cleaned himself up and dressed appropriately for the occasion. A tub of steaming hot water greeted him as he opened the door to his room; it seemed that Aunty Ann was doubly making sure of his attendance and nipping any excuses he might come up for not attending in the bud.

 

He chose to escort one of the girls to the town hall even though he knew she was going to ditch him as soon as they arrived. She was looking to pick up a client or two for the evening, whereas he was just along because Aunty Ann expected him to be there. None of the ladies would be looking to use his services for the night, as it would most likely attract too much attention, most of the women painfully discreet about using his services. It irked him just a little to know that they probably wouldn’t be as discreet when inviting the new Sheriff around for a home-cooked meal.

 

His long black hair was done up in a braid at the back of his head, keeping it neat and out of the way, but still an errant strand escaped to frame his face. He smiled politely at the men folk and was on his best behaviour around the women all the while keeping an eye on the new Sheriff as he made his way slowly through the hall. The tall warrior from the nearby tribe had made an appearance, making them the only two natives in the room full of townsfolk. As a rule he avoided the other natives in the area as much as possible as they reminded him too much of the family he had left behind.

 

The differences between the warrior and himself made him feel self-conscious. He wasn’t as tall as most of the men, and his slight build was only an advantage whilst he was Lala, however, he wasn’t lacking in strength despite his size, his body well-toned from the labour he did, but despite this he still felt scrawny next to the warrior. He half hoped that the warrior would distract Jebediah enough that he would escape the new Sheriff’s notice for the night.

[InkompleteWish]

It wasn't until evening when John and the old lady ate for dinner. It was nothing fancy but the slave could care less. It was a warm meal, home cooked from a lady that could very well be his grandma considering the age. The meal lifted his spirits and he soon felt comfortable in the small rundown inn. As thanks for letting some shady stranger stay with her, John promised Lady Sarah to help around the inn in exchange for the lovely meals he would eat in the days to come. Around the time when both finished eating, the old lady started chatting a bit. About the party for the new sheriff as well as the ongoings in Deserts Reach. Some rumours, the possible shops John could visit and the problems at the moment. But the only thing that interested John right now was the party later on. It was a good time to collect more information about this town and the connections they kept with the indians or other towns, for example Desert Falls. It would do him good to know if Deserts Reach knew of the Wharton Family or if they had any ties. Since if they did, his stay would be shortned considerably.

 

So after dinner and washing himself up as well as changing, he made his way to the town square and town hall. John was wearing normal clothing, brown trousers and a white shirt. The scarf he had worn earlier was safely over his collar to hide it. His black clothing would make him stand out more than he already was anyway. So he went with casual clothing to fit the party. Before he arrived he swiftly attended Valentine once more. It wouldn't do good if his friend would be cooped up in the stall the whole week without him. The horse was a worryward but John was okay with it. After brushing his friend and feeding him an apple that the old lady gave him, the slave made his way out again but not before glancing at four new horses. It seemed today would be a busy night.

 

After arriving at the packed town square John did good work in staying undetected. It wasn't like he hated crowds but he was rather careful when interacting with them. The larger the crowd, the more dangerous it was. Not to long and John noticed the indian he saw at the store and not to far ahead was another indian with a large wolf sitting at his feet. The beast was intimidating but John was sure that the indian took good care of it so it won't attack randomly. It wouldn't surprise the slave if the wolf had his own personality, just like Valentine did. But that wasn't the point, John was here to listen to the town people. There wasn't a better place to listen to gossip than in a packed party for the new sheriff ater all. So John made his way back into the crowd and was attentive to the chatter around him. The slave even bought a alcoholic drink to appear more normal. He also saw Lady Sarah in the crowd.

[Wolfenone]

Sharp dark eyes scanned the area around him and the old Sheriff. His eyes traveled from person to person as he stood, the joyous celebration seeming to just pass him by. He was here for negotiations, and then he may celebrate. His eyes paused first on another Indian not from his tribe, he didn’t linger too long on him before his eyes moved on to the women in colorful gowns talking to many men, their hair done up prettily and their faces painted to attract the male folk into their beds. Finally his eyes landed on one that was looking at him. The other guests were a bit busy with the dancing, the food, and the women.

 

Honiahaka bowed his head slightly in greeting to the man still a distance away inviting him over to them. His attention shifted for a moment to someone else that had graced him with their eyes, the man seemed to try and become invisible in the crowd of people, to fit in and mingle, he did a good job at it and soon the eyes were scanning the other people of the town just as his own had. Shifting his attention back to the old Sheriff he spoke, “It is time I meet this man, come or stay,” his lips turned up in a slight smile as he thought about other contexts to that statement. He started to walk towards the new Sheriff.

 

When he was a few steps away from the man he looked him over, his companion paused by his side. He lowered the wolf’s head from his face as he looked at the man before him; he stood there for a long moment before he worked the words from his mouth, “a man that commands this celebration on the day of arrival must have done much for these people. Yet the name and the reason eludes me. I am Honiahaka.” He ignored everyone else, to him the music, the chattering, thee laughing and childish noise all died down into a low hum. All that was important was this person, this man before him.

[ravenwyck]

Jebediah wore his own wolfish grin as the feral looking native and his companion approached. His posture was relaxed without being too casual. He studied the man’s face more closely as he waited for him to speak. Without the wolf head, he looked no less a wild creature. The words he spoke seemed to ring with challenge, but Jeb wasn't offended and his smile spread to genuine amusement. This man was a warrior, not a diplomat. But Jeb found he didn't mind over much.

 

“This party may be about me in name, but it is actually for them that it is happening.” Jeb spread his arms and smiled as he looked around, his motions encompassing the people around them, each with their own smiles as they chatted and danced and generally caroused. “On the surface, it is a ‘meet and greet.’ This is a chance for the town to get know me and me them. The truth is, I could do that in the course of my job. In truth, this is a celebration of life for these people, a chance to step back from the hardships and tribulations of their daily lives and simply enjoy one another’s company. It is about community and togetherness and taking pleasure in the small joys.”

 

Tactically, Jeb thought to himself, it was also a chance to observe the social hierarchy, interactions, and behaviors of the community and hear their concerns in a neutral setting. He could no longer count the amount of times that having that knowledge before an actual problem arose had aided him or even saved his ass over the years..

 

With a rueful grin, Jeb turned his attention back to the warrior. “But that doesn't really answer your question, does it? I’m Jebediah Jones.It is a pleasure to meet you, Honiahaka.” He pronounced the man’s name with slow, but fluid care. Indian names had once given and gotten him into a fair amount of trouble. But a lot had happened since those first fumbling attempts and he rarely made mistakes any more. “As for what I have done that deserves celebrating, that would depend on who you ask. Among other things, I have been a US Marshal and a bounty hunter. I have worked with the Army and against it. I have always tried to do what I believe is right. Occasionally, I've had the good fortune of being able to do that here. As to whether that is to be celebrated?” Jeb shrugged. “I would say that doing what is right is merely what should be done.”

 

Jeb knew that while he tried to be a ‘good’ one he was not a selfless man. He had been offered celebrations and rewards in the past by those who felt grateful for his help. It had never been the reason for his deeds, but as long as what was offered was reasonable to what they had to give, he rarely refused. Even his precious Maria had been a gift; one that had been invaluable to him for years. Some men thought it somehow made you a better to deny such gifts. Perhaps it was even true. But Jeb had realized that beyond the help that the rewards provided him, it also gave people a sense of closure. To say there is no debt owed is a fine thing, but most of the time it did not actually alleviate anyone’s actual inner sense of obligation.

 

After a short pause to allow the man to process what he’d said, Jeb spoke again. “If that satisfies your question, I hope you will be willing to answer one of mine. Am I wrong in assuming you are the tribal representative I have been hoping to meet?”

[SqueezeBabe]

The town hall was starting to fill up as townsfolk from all corners of Deserts Reach were putting in an appearance to meet the new Sheriff. Lalawethika hadn't seen so many people in one space before; the only time the numbers had even come close was when the train arrived with a new flood of people looking to make their fortunes in the silver mines. The station would swarm with people for the few moments that people took to disembark and board before leaving the station eerily quiet by comparison.

 

He preferred the silence of the wilderness over the throng of humanity and before long the hum of a multitude of conversations had brought on a headache. He made his way to a relatively quiet corner of the hall, nursing a tumbler of whisky; still finding that even after five years that he still couldn't handle the taste of the strong liquor, making his one glass seemingly last well beyond what it should have. As he took tiny sips from the glass, he allowed himself to get lost in his thoughts, not noticing his companion until he was standing in front of him, breathing heavily, the face reddened by drink.

 

Lalawethika stiffened slightly. The man was one of Lala's clients, so obviously recognised him as such. Despite Aunt Anne's reassurances, he never quite trusted the man to keep his secret, the more he drank, the more he felt the need to brag about his exploits, but being ridiculously wealthy, he was able to get away with a few indiscretions. It didn't stop Lalawethika from feeling uncomfortable in his presence; without the dress and makeup of Lala, he felt exposed and unsure of himself.

 

He nearly dropped his glass as the man's hand snaked around his waist in a familiar manner. He tried stepping away without attracting any attention but the man just followed him, backing him into a corner. "Are you free tonight?" The man leered drunkenly at him, a little too loudly for Lalawethika's comfort; the Indian looking around to see who else may have overheard the comment. "You'll have to go see Anne, I'm sure she'll be open after this" he responded, his voice low and placating.

 

The hand around his waist dropped lower, giving his arse a squeeze. Lalawethika squirmed uncomfortably, a mixture of loathing and lust; it had been a while since Lala had taken any clients, Mojak too for that matter. It was hard to deny the feeling that rose up within him, but at the same time the disgust he felt for having that feeling in the first place; he avoided drunk clients as much as he possibly could... He certainly wasn't going to sleep with the man for "free" either, no matter what the circumstances were.

 

The man drunkenly leaned in for a kiss, which was artfully sidestepped. Lalawethika put a hand on the man's chest to stop him from trying again, resisting against the pull of the arm around his waist. "Come now, there's no rush," he said softly, still looking about to see who may be watching, "If you really want this, then let's go back to the brothel; I'm sure you want to be much more comfortable..." he said the words as soothingly as possible, channelling some of his Lala persona to make them as seductive as possible. It wouldn't do to be forced down in a barn somewhere, and at least if it was in one of the rooms, then there was a better chance of getting payment out of him after It was done.

 

He led the man out of the hall, periodically looking over his shoulder to see if he could catch the eye of one of the girls or even Aunt Anne, simultaneously fighting off the drunken groping and still managing to talk in the same soothing seductive tones. He'd make sure the man paid extra for the inconvenience, and after Lalawethika would talk to Aunt Anne about taking a holiday of sorts until things died down and the novelty of the new Sheriff wore off.

[InkompleteWish]

John relaxed after he was able to find a nice corner to relax in. He had been mingling with the town folks and asked around for a few rumours and the connections to other towns as well as some information’s about the Wharton Family. It had been exhausting to try and understand even a word they spoke. Crowds were a pain for John, not only did he have to be extremely careful on what he says and does but also the possibility is bigger that he meets someone he doesn't want to meet. So he was happy when he finally found a little spot to relax in and drink his beverage without the fuss. He had noticed the Indian male look at him for a minute or two before shifting his gaze to another man, probably the new sheriff. John studied him and made sure to remember that face for the future. But now that he was done with the questioning of the town's folk and also the registering of important faces here, he truly began enjoying the party.

 

The slave didn't visit many parties in his live; the ones he did visit were in the form of a slave a 'thing' to brag about and nothing more. They weren't nice and John would rather not call them parties so he was joyful to finally join a real party. Sure thing that John wasn't used to alcohol but even though he wasn't used to it, he didn't get drunk easily. It was an advantage and thus the slave ordered another glass from a passing waiter. There was even free food! After loading some food on a small plate he wanted to return to his quite corner but saw that it was occupied already, sadly enough. The other Indian man that he saw in the shop was now standing in the spot John was in earlier. For a second he watched the Indian while eating some of his bread.

 

According to the way the drunkard touched the Indian as well as the 'acceptance' of the other, John could conclude that the Indian male was working in the brothel or was just really.....interested in male on male sex.......Either way, John wasn't one to pry into business since he didn't like others doing so either so he turned around and searched for a new place to sit down maybe and eat the remains of his food.

 

But he didn’t get far; soon enough some women started talking to him. It seemed that the shaving and washing of his body as well as the casual clothing made him more attractive. The slave was never interested in a romantic relationship and since his master died he wasn’t interested in pure sex either. But now he began to think. It would be a great time as any to let out some sexual frustration. And John was sure that he could get a woman to have sex with him on this party. Especially if there are woman of the brothels here. Though he still had to pay. But he wasn’t sure yet so he excused himself from the ladies and continued his search for a nice place.

[Wolfenone]

Honiahaka nodded his head as he looked around the celebration; his gaze went back to the man. “Small joys,” he agreed. Watching the man he shook his head to his question. “Ask as many,” he watched around he would have rather had done this somewhere else however it seems that here was needed. His wolf stood up and walked away into the crowd, the Indian didn’t bother trying to stop him as the creature went to one of the tables and pulled off some of the meat snacks. The wolf walked back to them, Honiahaka knelt down and ran his hands over the course fur.

 

“If I must be,” he answered the question, “a younger brother was to be the representative.”

 

He looked up and nodded his head down. “Not afraid of a wolf are you?” he asked. The creature bit onto the Indian’s arm as he ran his hands through the fur. The canine didn’t actually break any skin; it was like the wild creature was a pet, a friendly house pet.

 

He looked around again and smiled some before he stood back up. “I won’t keep you at your celebration.”

[ravenwyck]

Jeb sighed inwardly as Honiahaka answered. He hoped the still unmet younger brother was actually more representative of the tribe than this man. There was nothing of the friendliness and tolerance these people had been touted for in the warrior standing before him. Based on the sheriff's word and that of the townspeople he'd spoken to, Jeb was willing to put aside the dismissive comments of one man. He probably hadn't been the ideal choice for a diplomat, but he seemed a good sort, despite his gruff demeanor and Jeb tended to trust his gut in such matters.

 

Jeb turned his friendliest smile on Honiahaka and his wolf. "It's a fine beast and fear would serve no function in this situation." He shrugged. It would take more than a single non-hostile wolf to upset his balance but he was not immune to fear. Few men truly were, no matter what they said. But fear, treated properly, was just another tool, like any other part of his body. "As to whether you must be the representative, if the position is so onerous to you, I would ask only that you pass along the message that I am honored that your tribe ensured that someone was here to meet me and that I hope to do your people the same honor myself at the end of the week. You can reassure them that I have no interest in destroying the peace that has allowed both our peoples to prosper. Sheriff Murphy has been to your village before and has agreed to act my guide. I wont keep you any longer. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me."

 

With nothing more to say to Honiahaka, Jebediah tipped his hat and excused himself from the man and his wolf. As he stepped away, he scanned the crowd. For a moment Jeb was convinced he'd seen Lala making her way out of the party with a man who was obviously too impatient to wait until they were alone. A second glance told him that the person who'd caught his eye was actually a man. With a shake of his head, Jeb chided himself and his overactive imagination as he stopped himself in the process of already following the two out of the party. At least he hadn't tried to mistake Honiahaka for her as well. That really would have been a disaster. Jeb was willing to admit he might not be nearly as obsessed if she hadn't so carefully and sucessfully avoided meeting him again for years. He just couldn't understand it. He'd never experienced its like. Perhaps she really had been sweet for that McGillicuddy bounty he'd saved her from all those years ago. It fit with what Anne had said. He'd seen ladies sore at him in the past when he'd busted their boyfriends. She hadn't seemed the type. Perhaps she feared he'd be disappointed that she carried a pointless torch for such a worthless piece of scum. She had to know there was nothing he would hold against her. She was as beautiful and gentle a creature as he'd ever met.

 

Regathering his senses, Jeb paused in his circuit next to a man wearing a scarf. He'd noticed the man a few times during the party, usually at its edges. He never seemed to pause among any of the groups and he seemed almost uncomfortable when he was too far immersed in the crowd. It had drawn Jeb's attention and his curiosity. Turning his attention to the lone wallflower, Jeb's smile was once again in place as he drew the stranger's attention. He was supposed to be meeting people after all. "You seem new 'round these parts. My name's Jebediah Jones. I'm a bit new myself. It'd be a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Like his smile, the handshake he offered the man was assertive but friendly.

[SqueezeBabe]

The journey back to the brothel took longer than it should have, the steps disjointed and broken up with bouts of heavy kissing now that they were out of the view of those still inside the Town Hall. As drunk as the man was, it didn’t seem to affect his ardour nor the apparent skill in which he pursued the Indian. The passionate kisses were far from sloppy and already beginning to have an effect on Lalawethika, so that by the time they had managed to reach the brothel, the young man was beginning to forget why he questioned his judgement in the first place.

 

Small, appreciative noises were already being coaxed from lips made dewy and dark from the attention, his eyelids becoming hooded with a desire he couldn’t keep ignoring. He blamed the stresses of avoiding Jebidiah for the sudden buildup and subsequent need for some sort of release. He pulled himself out of particularly ardent embrace to fumble with the back door of the brothel, his hands shaking slightly and his knees feeling unsteady, feeling the man’s hot lips against the back of his neck and the subsequent smirk as the nipping of sensitive flesh elicited a louder moan.

 

They managed to make it inside, and to one of the rooms, not caring which one it was, only that it was empty, Lalawethika having enough time and presence of mind to hang the sign outside saying that the room was occupied, before being pushed down onto the bed, the man straddling his chest, his fingers already working to undo the zipper of his jeans. Lalawethika closed his eyes, even surprised at himself; his eagerness to please evident as he swallowed the cock that was thrust at him.

 

It didn’t seem very long after that, that his trademark cries were echoing off the walls around them as he gripped the bedsheets. It seemed the man was insatiable, continuing long into the night before finally collapsing next to the wrung out Indian. Lalawethika felt exhausted, but pleasantly so, despite his throat feeling hoarse from all the noise he undoubtedly had made. He cringed slightly at the thought that he’d probably kept most of the brothel awake, but despite his attempts to muffle himself, he couldn’t quite prevent the sounds from escaping. Aunty Ann had told him not to worry about his moans of pleasure, hinting that they only served to drive those who heard them to new heights themselves.

 

It was too late, or too early depending on perspective for a washtub to be brought into the room, so he made his way down the dimly lit hallways to where the bathroom was, stepping gingerly as he felt the warm dampness run down the inside of his thighs. Once inside, he washed himself thoroughly with the cold water that was there, and headed back to his own room, shivering slightly, his flesh covered with goosebumps. As he changed to to fresh clean clothes, he realised that it was close to the time when he would normally be awake; having an unscheduled client was no excuse to shirk his normal duties.

 

Stifling a yawn he headed into the kitchen. He would need coffee and breakfast before heading out to the farm. He hoped he’d get a chance to speak to Aunty Ann at some point, explain to her what had happened, and see if he could get some much needed rest later on in the day. He shrugged to himself, if he was sleeping, then he wouldn’t be avoiding Jebediah…

[InkompleteWish]

John didn't mind to be excluded from the party at least at this part of the evening. The buffet was surely impressive and the cowboy couldn't help himself from taking some food. The bread he was eating at the moment was delicious and the meat was tender. It wasn't often that John got good food; travelling around and all. The most he got were canned food and maybe some sort of animal that he fried on the bonfire at night. Now he was certain that he choose the right choice. After listening to many rumours and chitchat during the party it was apparent that this city didn't have much contact with the cities in the east or at least to Desert Falls. The Wharton Family wasn't operating in this city or its nearby mines so the chance that John would be seen by one of their men was rather low. The good thing was however that the train that stopped in the town now and then was bringing a lot of new information with it. Since John wanted to stay a week or more it was benefitting him. Though there were things that he didn't need to know it was an advantage when you travelled weeks without human contact. Staying inside a town or the like was like a living newspaper for John, he could stock up on information on the feud as well as the Indian tribes or some sort of outlaws and killers.

 

After having finished his plate of food he was thinking about getting another. At least until he finally noticed the new sheriff that stopped near him and got closer with a smile. Instantly his body stiffened since it probably wasn't pure coincidence that the other started to talk to him. Though John did try his best to fit in, he was still an outsider and attracting to much attention wasn't good. Especially if it’s by the new sheriff of the town. Though his body was a bit stiff and he eyed the others offered hand; John tried his best to act as normal as possible. The cowboy placed the plate he was holding on a nearby table and took the offered hand into a handshake. His own hands were rough from the hard labour he had to endure during his life and the days he spend riding through the deserts. "John is fine. I am a traveller." he replied with as much easy words as possible. He couldn't get rid of his accent but at least he could try to talk as normal as possible. His English was okay but he did forget some harder words now and then in his sentences. He soon retracted his hand and looked towards the other Indian male with the large wolf. One moment that he let them leave his eyesight and soon enough the new sheriff was talking to him. What luck. Hopefully the other would soon be snatched away by some girls or something. Though he did enjoy company now and then, he was still on the run and a bit seclusive. He rather has some of the locals talk to him or even a girl from the brothel or something. At least he didn't really have to interact with someone important. But just walking away would make him seem even more suspicious so he waited for the other’s reply. Not all important humans can be assholes after all, right? Not everyone was like Walter Wharton and his family. His old master was at least different so he guessed he could try talking with this sheriff.