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[The Sweet Irony]

...now we have to hang out in a ghost town guild.

Private 1x1 between The Sweet Irony and Camomatt.

 

[The Sweet Irony]

The air was hot within that bank, and it wasn't just because it was summer in the middle of Nevada. One cannot help feeling the hot sensation of their hearts beating like that of jackrabbit when a revolver is to their temple and the silent request of the vault being opened was delivered to their ear. But why would someone make such a request after many heists before? They had the money, they had the fame, what was it they truly wanted? For Roderick, it was for fun. Seeing people fear him was always an enjoyable experience with Wayne at his side, who was keeping his eyes on everyone as Roderick was led toward the back of the bank. Of course, all of those questions of why, when, how, where would all remain unspoken as the teller was sweating bullets without a chance of speaking anytime soon. *"I'll be back soon, Wayne, just oughta make a withdrawal. Ya keep em nice and quiet."*
"Just makin' a withdraaawal," Wayne repeated. Silly, but charming, as was his way, he tipped an imaginary hat and straightened an imaginary bowtie. "Quiet as a mouse!"
Wayne grinned under his mask. This was going to be a sweet pull. Two more stops, and they'd be at the legendary Paradise City--and rich, to boot. The money itself interested Wayne only slightly more than it did his partner, but as thrilling as it was to hop from town to town, the City was the big prize. And like the ladies took fainting, anything called "paradise" took cash.
He checked his watch.
According to their usual routine, he and Roderick would soon be on their way. Their sins were as deep as their desires, but with these two, hardly anything went wrong.

That's the enthusiasm Roderick would never get tired of. It was just as important to him that Wayne be as enthusiastic about it all as Roderick was attentive. Without it, Roderick may have taken an early retirement to live in some lowly city with nothing in his life except beer, ladies, and a combination of the two. A boring lifestyle, to say the least. It didn't compare to the life he was living now, a vault being opened in front of his very eyes and revealing a cache of... well... cash.

Roderick instructed the tellers to begin bagging it up in the flower sacks he and Wayne emptied prior to their robberies until there was nothing left to fill them with. It was at that point Roderick tied their hands together, sat them in the vault, and went back to Wayne so they could get all of the hostages into the vault. It would slow down anyone who may try to catch them. What they didn't know was that they were in fact being pursued.

In the pub next door, Rosalie arched her back, stretching carelessly, and smiled at her companion. "It should be any moment now, shouldn't it?" Jane had a rule about ordering drinks before the fight, and Rosalie agreed, though it certainly made the wait go slower. If all went according to plan, there wouldn't even be a fight, but she knew Jane had just as many weapons as she did hidden in her petticoats just in case. She paused. They had reviewed the plan over and over and over again--after the robbery, the two men would rush past this hole-in-the-wall without even thinking, intent on getting out. Jane, with the sharper eye, would shoot their sacks as they rode. Rosalie usually preferred to be right up in the action, but she had a soft spot for animals most of the time, and would easily give her role to Jane if it meant lower chances of accidentally hitting a horse. As soon as Jane's part was successful, Rosalie would run out the back door to go assess the situation of the bank, and bring first aid if needed. Jane would stay at her post, acting as necessary. Neither of the women were particularly looking forward to the last part, and Rosalie squeezed Jane's hand lightly as she waited for reply.

Jane pondered on this, but only for a few moments. She had been thinking all day that this was it. That this wass the day they finally ended the crusade of those two. They had been pursuing the duo for some time now, both men managing to get away with these two tailing shortly behind. This time, however, the hunters were ahead of them. They would wait until the robbery is over to catch them while their heads were up their asses for the grand heist they pulled off. "Should be. Haven't heard a peep, which means things are working according to plan for them. I imagine they'll either come in here for their celebratory drink, or leave the town to get a head start on the next heist. Most likely leave town, if for no reason more than to get away from the smell." Rosalie was given a light squeeze of the hand in response. They were working pretty well together and she felt they had an almost-friends relationship. Half business, half friends, and drinks in between being served at this very moment. Jane's would be shot down so she could get up, noticing something change about the bank next door. She heard the footsteps of horses. "Time to move."

Wayne tipped his hat at a lady as they passed, relishing the ride out. "Ro," he called to Roderick gaily, "shall we stop for some drinks or go on home to our darlin' mama?" Of course they were nowhere near either of their parents, but it was a cute cover and always gave the two some subconscious sympathy from passers by. Before the taller man could answer, an ominous rumble shook the dirt, and the air near the ground started to get foggy.

Roderick was surprised to some extent how easily they got that heist done and over with, even if it was to be expected that they were to be met with minimal resistance. The duo were infamous for being quick, clean, and ruthless if the situation called for it. And funnily enough, despite such a reputation, Wayne still managed to have ladies' heads turning at the sound of his voice and the smirk on his face. In silent response, Roderick nodded, mostly because he felt a storm coming about. Seeing the sand stirring some, at this time of day and with so few signs of it coming earlier, he felt it was better to get some drinks and feed the paranoia of a sandstorm than to ride out and figure it wasn't anything dangerous.

At the same time, however, one particular lady looked at them rather oddly and that made him uncomfortable. When he got a better look, it seemed she was already heading back inside as though even she was uncomfortable with being outdoors at this time. He would later find out this was Jane, who was beginning to unsling the shotgun from her back but had instead felt it best to get back inside since the two criminals were already turning around to get themselves into the little bar. Roderick led the two of them to a stable where they could leave their horses and, feeling the wind pick up some, nudged them along into the bar. There were some bedrooms on the second floor, so if somehow this storm stayed for too long, they could stay for the night.  

[The Sweet Irony]

Rosalie crossed back quickly, unperturbed by the weather. The idiots, as she was beginning to call them in her mind, had left a huge broken bench behind, and with a little maneuvering, she was able to free the captives in her best time yet. She reasoned that if anything had gone south with Jane, she was close enough to have heard the gunshots, but that didn't stop her from being a little anxious. She'd grown to care for Jane, even knowing that her slightly older and taller companion was so, so much more capable.

Stopping outside of the back door, she looked around and then made a very unladylike movement with her skirts, drawing a gun, and came back in to the bar after a cursory check that her clothing was all back in place and her weapon was moderately concealed. As soon as she was done adjusting herself, she accidentally barreled into a server and caused three trays of drinks to fly.

Jane silently muttered to herself as she stepped back into the bar/inn, shotgun slung over her shoulder as always. Killing them wasn't the hard part, not even close. The hard part was either killing them without getting herself hurt as well, or taking them back alive without ending up dead herself. That was the hard part. She sighed with some frustration, still getting glances from some of the people within the bar simply for having a gun in the first place. Rosalie didn't seem to have that issue, considering hers was concealed, but surely you don't expect Jane to wear a dress and hide the damn shotgun under her skirts, right? She felt herself cringe a bit when her friend crashed into a server, knowing that no doubt got the attention of the two outlaws they were after, and went to help her get up.

Roderick walked into this bar alongside Wayne after the two dropped off their horses into the stable. The weather wasn't improving so it'd be best to just lay low for a little while. Hell, even if the authorities wanted to come after them, what were they going to do? Ride through this blizzard of sand? Roderick knew they were just as vulnerable to these storms as he was, so there was no fear in staying at the inn for a little while. His eyes glanced over the people within it, some seeming like criminals themselves and others just wanderers. And some crashing into servers. "Think I found you a pretty little lady, Wayne," Roderick smirked, walking past the mess of spilled alcohol.

Apologizing, cursing and struggling to clean up, Rosalie noticed their targets from the side. Frantically, she tried to gesture to Jane. Shoot them! Carefully! Where's my gun??? To her horror, the short woman realized that her main weapon had slid right behind the two robbers. They had not noticed...yet.

Jane could tell that Rosalie wanted those two dead. But there were two things stopping her: bringing them back alive was much more rewarding than killing them. After all, only they knew where their stashes of money were. And second, in a bar full of would be or could be criminals, killing some of their fellow criminal brotheren could mean bad news. So Jane instead kept her hands off of the shotgun that remained slung over her shoulder and began to help her comrade up to her feet, not realizing the pistol had slid toward the two targets. At least not immediately, she saw how Rosalie's eyes were glancing in a certain direction and followed her gaze, spotting the metal lightly shining from whatever light sources kept this bar lit. Her eyes returned to Rosalie, as though asking how to get the weapon back considering the two criminals were nearly sitting on it as they had seated at a table.

Wayne waved at the women causing the spectacle. "Fancy a drink, darlin?" he asked. Having just robbed a bank, cash was not an issue for him. They followed Roderick back to the table, surprisingly, without needing much convincing, and sat down opposite the two men once situated.

"Smith," he introduced himself with the first name that came to mind, "Danny Smith." He extended a hand to shake with the woman who had had the collision, but her hands were busy holding her hat as she flounced fervently in her seat. Women. He graciously turned to the other instead.

Jane felt herself inwardly sigh that her friend hadn't taken the fall on this one, so she decided to take it for herself. She gave Wayne a smile and shook his hand, not too ladylike as it wasn't exactly the kind of environment she was raised in anyway. "Well it is a pleasure. I am Bella and this is Mary. What are you two gents doing all the way out here in tha middle ah' nowhere?" She stretched her neck a bit as though to let out a slight knot in her muscles but it was more to just try getting a better reach at the pistol. She could have sworn the thing was right around there...

"You trying to play footsies with me? Maybe ya had a few drinks too many, perfect for joining us upstairs if ya like." Roderick said this to none other than Rosalie, of course. He had his feet propped outward so that he could stretch and instead he was greeted by someone tapping his feet. It wasn't Jane, since she was wearing something a bit more wide and hard than the slimmer footwear of the other lady. "In fact, let's get a few drinks. Waiter, get us some drinks, we're dying of thirst here!"

Rosalie turned beet red. She'd have to apologize to Jane later. "Now now, my mutha warned me 'bout strange men," she cocked her head at the two, trying to determine how she and Jane should split them up, both for conversation and in a fight. The rude one was obviously the leader, real name unknown, but she couldn't say how that would affect a brawl.
She considered herself and Jane. Both were decent and, in Rosalie's easily biased opinion, also decent-looking, Jane with slightly better aim and Rosalie slightly faster. Now that she could see them, "Smith's" green eyes looked almost identical to her own, though aside from that, his features were a sandy blend of forgettable averageness that Rosalie's elf-like visage would never allow. He was the kind of man, she thought, who would only need a beard or a hat to pass off a completely new identity.

Although Jane was certainly quite uncomfortable with their situation, as these two men were showing very strong signs of wanting to bring them away from the bar to a place more secluded, she also recognized just how valuable of a position the two women were in. They were seated just feet away from the very men whom they had been pursuing for the past who knows how long. Men that, if captured and brought back alive, would result in a hefty reward. So while she certainly would love to break out the shotgun and shoot their guts out, she was far too aware of both the risks and the rewards that come with all the surrounding scenarios. "Well gents, my ma and pa told me it ain't polite to decline a drink without having taken a taste." The server had arrived with the drinks Roderick demanded and she took a good taste of it. It was bitter on her tongue, but to fit into the scene, it was a necessary sacrifice. Her eyes shifted briefly to Rosalie to see how she was reacting to all of this, but ended up returning to Wayne as she requested with the beginning of a song from the record player "hey, how about a dance huh? The two of you boys and me, I love this song. Mary, ya mind sittin back a little bit?"  

[The Sweet Irony]

Rosalie's relief was almost palpable. She located the gun with her foot and slowly, deftly got it into her hand beneath the table. Fortunately, neither of their targets noticed. Now, what to do? Get their targets to the sheriff? How?

However, Jane's offer had only provided a momentary distraction. Wayne was displeased. "Now that's no way to treat a lady," he pouted. "If yer little friend's to shy to dance," he motioned to Rosalie, "it is my moral obligation to treat us to another round of drinks."

Jane didn't want to show hesitance since she was trying to play a facade of someone who knew exactly what it is they wanted from a situation like this, but she couldn't help making a brief 'hm' sound a she seemed conflicted. If her sight served her well, she'd caught the sight of a Rosalie once again armed as she should be. That made it quite pointless to even bother with dancing with the two men. However, to back out now would break their cover, so what else could they do? Hopefully something that would stop things from entering an area where they really had no option but to pull out.

"I reckon if she wants ta dance she'll say so, but Mary and I ought to get some sleep soon so I'm settlin with one dance for now."

Rosalie was frantically blinking. The men, hopefully, would merely think her nervous. Jane, however much it annoyed her, was well aware of Rosalie's stout opinion that it was a viable communication method to blink at each other in Morse code. Do I shoot? She was loaded and ready.

No. The other woman responded in the few blinks it took, looking between the men and her companion. Unfortunately they couldn't kill them right now. Jane could really use the reward money of catching the two alive, and even if they decided to kill these criminals, it'd be better without the presence of two dozen could be or had been criminals. With that in mind, Jane avoided letting her friend shoot the two in their asses as she was likely desiring to do quite heavily and, instead, rose to her feet and leaned against the table. "Now are we gonna dance, Mister, or am I just gonna have to leave you two gents to your drinks?" The one she spoke to, of course, was Wayne. The other male seemed to be uninterested in dancing and even if he was, she didn't feel comfortable with the idea of dancing with Roderick. The man's hooked nose bothered the hell out of her, really.

Rosalie sighed and downed her drink, then stood up and grabbed the hand of the hook-nosed man. Her gun had been re-fastened under her skirt, and her hat was still soaking from her clumsiness, so she left it on the seat. Maybe that was normal behavior anyway. "Nah don't you forget I'm a laydy," she said as she pulled him off to dance. It was unlikely, but perhaps there was some law enforcement amongst the crowd. Perhaps she and Jane could convince their targets to "walk them home" to the sheriff's house. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

"So, what brings you to town?"

Roderick let her take his hand and rose to his feet. He almost expected that she would have waited until he himself offered his hand, but at this point, it looked like the two ladies were a tad tipsy with the drinks they've had so he assumed they were just a little uppity. So that brought the question of what brought him to town. Roderick, one who was never so good with the ladies like his companion, merely explained in few words as possible "the same reason any other fella would be out here, I reckon." Not much of a dancer, not much of a talker. A gunslinger at heart with the desire to steal what he can. "And why would a pretty lil thing like you be out here in the dangerous country with your friend?"

Well, this wasn't going to be easy. Pouting slightly, Rosalie let out an inadvertent hmph, and replied "aw, what's so dangerous 'bout a little fun?"

She tried to keep an eye on Jane and the short guy, but the room was crowded and if the sounds of the wind were any indication, the weather wasn't improving. Her heels clicked unceremoniously as she followed the criminal's clumsy lead across the floor.

"Nothin dangerous 'bout it I suppose," the man shrugged, not letting much come out. He was a little wary of these two, they acted kind of out of the norm, but he figured they were probably just a little influenced by the alcoholic beverages that they had consumed. With a slight smirk, he'd ask her a similarly themed question, "if you want a little fun, I'm sure we can arrange something. Depending on your idea of fun, of course." Implications were easy to read with this one.  

[The Sweet Irony]

Wayne, meanwhile, was busy doing his best to chat up Miss Bella. The vibe he got from her was polished and hospitable, but her friendliness did not seem personal in the slightest. If anything, she seemed like she was trying to babysit Mary, and was constantly glancing over at their companions. Perhaps Mary was a single younger sister, or a friend with a limp. It mattered little. Trying to engage Bella in conversation was tiresome, but her feet were kinder, at least with music. "You've the skill of a sinner," he remarked as he dipped her.

Jane was doing her best to play hospitable and kind, but Lord knew she was trying so hard not to bust some buckshot into his chest. She continued to dance along with him, surprised at how he actually knew a thing or two with dance, and kept up easily enough. Little family parties with music and everything were not obscure in her life, making dance a regular part of the routine. "Ah but I assure you, Mister Smith, I am no sinner. Or so I try," she smiled, continuing the movements to keep their dance flowing, "and what about you? A man like you seems like he's had his days."

Wayne considered for a moment, then delivered a charmer's grin. "Define sin."

Jane couldn't believe she was giving this man a serious response. "I'd say sin is to do something that hurts, destroys, or impedes on the life of another unjustly." She wondered, what he would think of such a response, but at least she was truthful. "Can't say I'm no sinner. I can certainly say I try not to."  

[The Sweet Irony]

Wayne raised an eyebrow. This would certainly be interesting. "Where I come from," he began, "sin is defined as the act of violating God's will." He didn't miss a beat with the dance, though what kind of woman would be interested in talking about morality in a pub, he had no idea. It was suspicious, but with his career, Wayne had to be suspicious of everyone. That had never prevented him from having fun.

"Nahw, in the east, humans are considered naturally good, because we were created in the image of God with God's love, so there ain't no room for bad 'nless we turn away from the holy light on purpose. But in the west," his eyes flashed cheekily as he spun her, "they believe that all humans 'r born with sin, cause we ain't in heaven, so we gotta pray 'n appraise Him to absolve ourselves of sin to get there." He monitored her reaction to the turn in conversation, quite hoping she'd want to continue, but giving away nothing.  

[camomatt]

"Except God's will was written by man. And man is flawed, so I figure God would be happy with us just keepin peace with one another." Why was Jane talking with this criminal about religion. This just made no sense. But, he seemed to insist it, so she figured she'd might as well go on. As they continued with the dance, her spinning just briefly, she'd give him a short response "there ain't one reason to believe we're without sin when we're born. Original Sin, all tha way back to Adam and Eve. We're footin the bill." Stopping, she returned to merely almost waltzing with the man before figuring a bit of background can't hurt "back at home at tha ranch, always had a pastor passin by with a crowd to go get themselves baptized. Bunch o' babies and young kids goin down to the river. He'd pass by and say 'Miss Jane, ya gonna anger the Lord if ya keep workin Sundays' and I told 'im 'ya'll getting baptized and I done had that taken care of already, and He'll forgive workin Sundays since it's tha food that goes on your plates ain't it?' Tha old man laughed and ain't said a word about it since."  

[The Sweet Irony]

Wayne's smile shifted, almost imperceptibly. "Well, you said yourself that we're already footin' the bill, so why not?" He hardly breathed as he waited for her reaction. This, this was the fun part. True seduction was not a deal in lust, but in absolution. Reflection. And what an interesting woman this "Bella-Jane" was.

camomatt