Story No. 2
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Story No. 2
Getting another story ready it will work the same way.
Enter your name in and you will be added to a loop of authors, when the person above you writes in a entry you can have your turn.
We just need a new theme. the Ulu saga (science fiction) went well. Any one have a good idea? I was thinking of a old western type would be neat.
Enter your name in and you will be added to a loop of authors, when the person above you writes in a entry you can have your turn.
We just need a new theme. the Ulu saga (science fiction) went well. Any one have a good idea? I was thinking of a old western type would be neat.
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Re: Story No. 2
I'll ride that horse, pardner.
Can't do any durn thing 'til Friday, tho'. Gotta lotta wranglin' to do a-fore then ...
Can't do any durn thing 'til Friday, tho'. Gotta lotta wranglin' to do a-fore then ...
Spoiler:
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Re: Story No. 2
I suppose I'll join this rodeo.
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Re: Story No. 2
Clarence Applewood Gang now appearing as the villains.
Story title "One Bad Applewood Spoiled the Bunch"
errrgh....im in
Story title "One Bad Applewood Spoiled the Bunch"
errrgh....im in
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Re: Story No. 2
How much do you have to write.
I'm in.
I'm in.
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Re: Story No. 2
It just loops through the list and you can post as little or as much as you want, as long as it continues the story.
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Re: Story No. 2
Since i started it off lasttime i would like someone else to start it this time. Redwill since you were the first to join you can start it.
1. Redwill
2. The wicked child
3. canaan
4. Newarenanow
5. No name
Loop
We are still accepting authors feel free to join in.
1. Redwill
2. The wicked child
3. canaan
4. Newarenanow
5. No name
Loop
We are still accepting authors feel free to join in.
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Re: Story No. 2
So it goes
With a western vibe
With a western vibe
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Re: Story No. 2
I'll have something up later tonight.
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Re: Story No. 2
It was late morning, getting on toward noon, when the company rode into Dodge City behind nine-hundred-fifty head of cattle. They had been on the trail for six weeks or more, driving the cattle north from central Texas, through the Indian territory, and into Kansas. Jim Sutton rode at the side of the herd, working them toward the pens on the east side of town. The drive had gone smoothly, but he was glad to be nearly done with it. He had that feeling at the end of every drive, of course. Then, after a couple of weeks spending the money he earned, he always had the itch to get going again. Back to Texas. Back on the trail.
He wondered about some of the crew on this trip. Some of the fourteen men he had ridden with before. The trail boss, Sam "Baldy" Cruickshank, was respected by most for his knowledge of the trail but also his quick, ferocious temper. Then there were Dusty and "Lefty" Garritt, two brothers who didn't have much in the way of sense. They were the wild ones. If they weren't dead by morning -- face down on the floor of some whorehouse as a result of a drunken fight over some women -- it would only be through a kind act on the part of the Almighty. Others on the crew he had ridden with for the first time this trip. Charlie Smith and Dickey Ballou, for instance. They always were together. At camp at night they always slept apart from the others, but always at each other's side -- so much so that it was a common joke among the crew. On the other hand, one character he couldn't read at all was Jeb Applewood. He never said much, other than that his pa had a spread near Dodge. Sutton didn't much care for him, but never really gave him a second thought.
The cow hand he had been most intrigued with this trip was the youngest. Sutton guessed that Danny Richmond wasn't more than twenty, though he hadn't said his age. He was tall and lanky with a chiseled face and a sharp nose. He had claimed, in his soft-spoken voice, that he had been on drives before, but Sutton doubted it. What had drawn Sutton's attention were the habits Richmond had showed on the drive. He had never once pulled his Colt Peacemaker, not even to use in driving the cattle. That was doing it the hard way, Sutton had thought at the time. Oddly, though, when he was not in the saddle, Richmond never used his right hand for camp tasks. He always kept it free, at his side, near his revolver. He was always calm and his eyes seem to take in everything. Sutton had watched this for a couple of weeks until one night, as he was watching Richmond gather water using only his left hand, it struck him.
Danny Richmond was a gunfighter.
What he meant by signing on as a cow hand Sutton could only guess. Maybe he was looking for something in Dodge. Maybe he was running from something in Texas. In any case, Sutton decided to keep an eye on him for a while. He liked Danny and hoped the boy wasn't going to get himself into trouble. Trouble was easy enough to find in Dodge. It was usually a lot tougher to avoid.
As the crew reached the cattle pens, Old "Baldy" collected the note of transfer from the boss and they headed out to the company offices to collect their pay. As Sutton rode along, he thought again of the young kid, and also of his own business in Dodge City. Danny Richmond wasn't the only one with secrets to hide. He had plenty himself. And then, for the hundredth time in the past two days, he wondered if she would still be there.
He wondered about some of the crew on this trip. Some of the fourteen men he had ridden with before. The trail boss, Sam "Baldy" Cruickshank, was respected by most for his knowledge of the trail but also his quick, ferocious temper. Then there were Dusty and "Lefty" Garritt, two brothers who didn't have much in the way of sense. They were the wild ones. If they weren't dead by morning -- face down on the floor of some whorehouse as a result of a drunken fight over some women -- it would only be through a kind act on the part of the Almighty. Others on the crew he had ridden with for the first time this trip. Charlie Smith and Dickey Ballou, for instance. They always were together. At camp at night they always slept apart from the others, but always at each other's side -- so much so that it was a common joke among the crew. On the other hand, one character he couldn't read at all was Jeb Applewood. He never said much, other than that his pa had a spread near Dodge. Sutton didn't much care for him, but never really gave him a second thought.
The cow hand he had been most intrigued with this trip was the youngest. Sutton guessed that Danny Richmond wasn't more than twenty, though he hadn't said his age. He was tall and lanky with a chiseled face and a sharp nose. He had claimed, in his soft-spoken voice, that he had been on drives before, but Sutton doubted it. What had drawn Sutton's attention were the habits Richmond had showed on the drive. He had never once pulled his Colt Peacemaker, not even to use in driving the cattle. That was doing it the hard way, Sutton had thought at the time. Oddly, though, when he was not in the saddle, Richmond never used his right hand for camp tasks. He always kept it free, at his side, near his revolver. He was always calm and his eyes seem to take in everything. Sutton had watched this for a couple of weeks until one night, as he was watching Richmond gather water using only his left hand, it struck him.
Danny Richmond was a gunfighter.
What he meant by signing on as a cow hand Sutton could only guess. Maybe he was looking for something in Dodge. Maybe he was running from something in Texas. In any case, Sutton decided to keep an eye on him for a while. He liked Danny and hoped the boy wasn't going to get himself into trouble. Trouble was easy enough to find in Dodge. It was usually a lot tougher to avoid.
As the crew reached the cattle pens, Old "Baldy" collected the note of transfer from the boss and they headed out to the company offices to collect their pay. As Sutton rode along, he thought again of the young kid, and also of his own business in Dodge City. Danny Richmond wasn't the only one with secrets to hide. He had plenty himself. And then, for the hundredth time in the past two days, he wondered if she would still be there.
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Re: Story No. 2
As a note, I won't be continuing until sometime tomorrow night, so if y'all get restless, feel free to skip me for now.
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Re: Story No. 2
George Cruikshank reference?
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Re: Story No. 2
Nah. I once had a friend in Youngstown named Sam Cruikshank, that's all. But how about the Dusty and Lefty reference?columbia wrote:George Cruikshank reference?
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Re: Story No. 2
Well done....I was obviously reading too deeply into the other part.redwill wrote:Nah. I once had a friend in Youngstown named Sam Cruikshank, that's all. But how about the Dusty and Lefty reference?columbia wrote:George Cruikshank reference?
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Re: Story No. 2
Upon collecting their pay, meager as it was, the men decided to hit the saloon. Jim winced at the notion, but had no choice as it would look really bad if he declined. On the way, Dusty kept saying "We should get out of Dodge" and Lefty would laugh hysterically each time.
Eventually, Danny grew tired of their antics and drew his gun. Jim was shocked, as this was so out of character. He urged Danny to settle down, but Danny shook his head. As Lefty begged for Mercy, Jim finally realized why Danny had drawn his weapon... "Deuce" McCullough emerged from the shadows with a crew of his most threatening bandits in tow.
Old "Deuce" was infamous in these parts, not just for his willingness to take whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted by force; no, he had a penchant for doing his business on his victims before he left... a sort of poo de grace, if you will.
Whatever his intentions, Jim knew they were not good.
Eventually, Danny grew tired of their antics and drew his gun. Jim was shocked, as this was so out of character. He urged Danny to settle down, but Danny shook his head. As Lefty begged for Mercy, Jim finally realized why Danny had drawn his weapon... "Deuce" McCullough emerged from the shadows with a crew of his most threatening bandits in tow.
Old "Deuce" was infamous in these parts, not just for his willingness to take whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted by force; no, he had a penchant for doing his business on his victims before he left... a sort of poo de grace, if you will.
Whatever his intentions, Jim knew they were not good.
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Re: Story No. 2
So I killed the story again? 

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Re: Story No. 2
You should have gone for sex instead of poop, IMO.
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Re: Story No. 2
I've been afk for the last bit. You guys can skip me this go about
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Re: Story No. 2
So nan is up?
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Re: Story No. 2
Hey, can you skip me this round. I found out last night I have to go to one of the plants and won't be in the office, then I'm heading out to Iowa tomorrow and won't be back until Sunday night.
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Re: Story No. 2
It seemed like forever until Danny said something, "Good to see you alive Deuce, ...unfortually. You got no business hear we are just on our way into town." I was watching the other memebers in the group while Danny and Deuce insulted each other. One of the masked guys looked very familiar but i couldn't make him out.
Danny and Deuce were still talking, "Danny i feel bad how we felt things befor, i still think there is room in our outfit for you, we could always use another good gunman."
"Duece i told you i am done with that, i got a job moving cattle and got some other work lined up"
"Your meek wages are not going to get you anywhere. I figure it wouldn't hurt to ask, its only a matter of time til you come back to work for me. Get out of hear you yellow belly"
You could see Danny didn't like being talked to like that, but we started to move out. "Danny i never knew you used to work for Deuce, well i never would of expected it either"
"Jim that was a long time ago i don't want to talk about it, did you notice who was working with Deuce"
"Yeah that one guy looked familiar but i wasn't sure."
"That was Jeb Applewood, Jim"
Danny and Deuce were still talking, "Danny i feel bad how we felt things befor, i still think there is room in our outfit for you, we could always use another good gunman."
"Duece i told you i am done with that, i got a job moving cattle and got some other work lined up"
"Your meek wages are not going to get you anywhere. I figure it wouldn't hurt to ask, its only a matter of time til you come back to work for me. Get out of hear you yellow belly"
You could see Danny didn't like being talked to like that, but we started to move out. "Danny i never knew you used to work for Deuce, well i never would of expected it either"
"Jim that was a long time ago i don't want to talk about it, did you notice who was working with Deuce"
"Yeah that one guy looked familiar but i wasn't sure."
"That was Jeb Applewood, Jim"
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Re: Story No. 2
lol, I'm not laughing because the story is stupid, you guys are doing great. It's just funny for some reason
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Re: Story No. 2
[I'll switch to first person.
]
"Applewood. Yeah," I said. "What game is he playing?" Danny just shook his head.
We decided to have a meal at the saloon. The Bolinos de Bacalhau appetizer was too greasy and the Spicy Thai Beef Salad was lacking papaya, but I didn't worry too much about it. My mind was on other matters. So was Danny's, apparently, as he didn't say a word during the meal. Finally I made to leave. "Listen, Danny, you be careful. I don't know what you're involved in -- and I don't want to know. Just take care of yourself." He didn't say anything and I got up and left the saloon.
I stopped for an hour or so at the barber shop next door. Two bits for a shave and a hair cut. I left the shop with a single purpose in my mind. To the main street, alight with people and rapidly-moving traffic, I gave only a passing thought. I knew where I was headed. Turning down a side street, I saw the building that I could have described in my sleep. The Carriage House Hotel. As I entered, I flittingly took in the surroundings: a would-be oasis of civilization in this wasteland. An overdose of back-East fashion in the architecture contrasted with an overdose of pure Western scum in the clientele. Perhaps a half-dozen or more men occupied that common room. But that was the last thing on my mind. I went directly to the front desk. I had a name on my lips.
But I was stopped cold.
She came out of the adjoining game room.
Lydia.
She was there: in my presence. In my world again.
She crossed the room toward the fireplace. I once again admired the lines of her face. That jawline that I would have given my life to stroke once more. That neck with its aroma I could smell even across the room -- across the years. I could feel the smooth curve of the small of her back. Jesus. Here was my life presented before me.
I was frozen.
Then, she turned and slowly took in the room. Finally, after an eon, her eyes met mine. Shock registered in her. Shock registered between us. God! It was as if lightning flew across the space, crackling and distorting the air. I never expected it, but then she smiled. So simple. She smiled a bewildered, delirious smile. It was a smile of recognition -- of acceptance -- of fire -- of love.
She was mine. Again. She was mine. My life was not wasted. Here she was. Mine.
I was only contemplating moving toward her. It was as if my life had shifted into slow-motion. She started to move toward me. Me.
And then, he emerged from the room. Stupid. Barbarous. He moved with an obvious, ostentatious air of ownership and approached her. He touched her. Familiar. Too familiar. That familiar. It was a moment before I could properly take in this bastard. Then a dozen lines came together in my consciousness.
Jeb Applewood.
I couldn't react. His eyes followed hers and settled on me. He laughed. "Sutton!" he said. "Well, well. I see you think something of this fine girl!" I couldn't say anything. "Oh? No? Well, I don't blame you. She's not worth that much." He laughed again. Then he started to pull her back toward the game room. Back toward the stairs I knew were there. Back to the rooms upstairs. He had already forgotten about me.
"S-S-Stop," I pitifully stammered. "Don't. Don't."
He flicked an angry glance at me. Then he flew into a contemptuous rage. "WHAT?!" he bellowed. "Go away, little flea! There's man's work to be done here!"
"No," I said. "No, please." He glared at me. He paused for a moment and then pushed her aside. I suddenly became very aware of the revolver at his hip. I could read his intention. I was not a master of the quick draw. I had never seen Applewood draw before. I didn't know much about him, but I knew I would be no match for him. Still, I was not going to let him take my Lydia away. I would die trying to stop that.
Jeb Applewood squared up against me and took a slow breath. It was happening too quickly. He was going to kill me. It was too quick.
And then -- softly -- a voice came from beyond my vision.
"Hey."
I hesitated, and then chanced a quick glance over my shoulder.
Great God Almighty!
Danny Richmond was standing nonchalantly in the doorway, facing Jeb Applewood from across the room.

"Applewood. Yeah," I said. "What game is he playing?" Danny just shook his head.
We decided to have a meal at the saloon. The Bolinos de Bacalhau appetizer was too greasy and the Spicy Thai Beef Salad was lacking papaya, but I didn't worry too much about it. My mind was on other matters. So was Danny's, apparently, as he didn't say a word during the meal. Finally I made to leave. "Listen, Danny, you be careful. I don't know what you're involved in -- and I don't want to know. Just take care of yourself." He didn't say anything and I got up and left the saloon.
I stopped for an hour or so at the barber shop next door. Two bits for a shave and a hair cut. I left the shop with a single purpose in my mind. To the main street, alight with people and rapidly-moving traffic, I gave only a passing thought. I knew where I was headed. Turning down a side street, I saw the building that I could have described in my sleep. The Carriage House Hotel. As I entered, I flittingly took in the surroundings: a would-be oasis of civilization in this wasteland. An overdose of back-East fashion in the architecture contrasted with an overdose of pure Western scum in the clientele. Perhaps a half-dozen or more men occupied that common room. But that was the last thing on my mind. I went directly to the front desk. I had a name on my lips.
But I was stopped cold.
She came out of the adjoining game room.
Lydia.
She was there: in my presence. In my world again.
She crossed the room toward the fireplace. I once again admired the lines of her face. That jawline that I would have given my life to stroke once more. That neck with its aroma I could smell even across the room -- across the years. I could feel the smooth curve of the small of her back. Jesus. Here was my life presented before me.
I was frozen.
Then, she turned and slowly took in the room. Finally, after an eon, her eyes met mine. Shock registered in her. Shock registered between us. God! It was as if lightning flew across the space, crackling and distorting the air. I never expected it, but then she smiled. So simple. She smiled a bewildered, delirious smile. It was a smile of recognition -- of acceptance -- of fire -- of love.
She was mine. Again. She was mine. My life was not wasted. Here she was. Mine.
I was only contemplating moving toward her. It was as if my life had shifted into slow-motion. She started to move toward me. Me.
And then, he emerged from the room. Stupid. Barbarous. He moved with an obvious, ostentatious air of ownership and approached her. He touched her. Familiar. Too familiar. That familiar. It was a moment before I could properly take in this bastard. Then a dozen lines came together in my consciousness.
Jeb Applewood.
I couldn't react. His eyes followed hers and settled on me. He laughed. "Sutton!" he said. "Well, well. I see you think something of this fine girl!" I couldn't say anything. "Oh? No? Well, I don't blame you. She's not worth that much." He laughed again. Then he started to pull her back toward the game room. Back toward the stairs I knew were there. Back to the rooms upstairs. He had already forgotten about me.
"S-S-Stop," I pitifully stammered. "Don't. Don't."
He flicked an angry glance at me. Then he flew into a contemptuous rage. "WHAT?!" he bellowed. "Go away, little flea! There's man's work to be done here!"
"No," I said. "No, please." He glared at me. He paused for a moment and then pushed her aside. I suddenly became very aware of the revolver at his hip. I could read his intention. I was not a master of the quick draw. I had never seen Applewood draw before. I didn't know much about him, but I knew I would be no match for him. Still, I was not going to let him take my Lydia away. I would die trying to stop that.
Jeb Applewood squared up against me and took a slow breath. It was happening too quickly. He was going to kill me. It was too quick.
And then -- softly -- a voice came from beyond my vision.
"Hey."
I hesitated, and then chanced a quick glance over my shoulder.
Great God Almighty!
Danny Richmond was standing nonchalantly in the doorway, facing Jeb Applewood from across the room.
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Re: Story No. 2
I know what ya mean, i really like the story so far, but there is a funny vibe to it, i think the wording no matter how hard we try sounds "modern" and not totally like "old west language."shafnutz05 wrote:lol, I'm not laughing because the story is stupid, you guys are doing great. It's just funny for some reason
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Re: Story No. 2
I've probably made it worse by going for almost a romance-novel tone...