[Burt] Thin, rawboned, with sandy brown hair, watery hazel eyes, a hooked nose, thin lips and what looks like a perpetual sunburn from being out on the sun all the time. Burt is rangy of build and tends to slouch a lot. He is dressed in a dirty white cotton shirt, the sleeves of which are a bit on the short side, tight fitting brown canvas trousers, a brown leather vest worn open, and heavily scuffed cowboy boots. Buckled about his waist is a worn gunbelt with a battered Colt revolver that's probably seen better days.
Harry grunts, "Yeah, you got somethin' to do?" Harry doesn't and he's bored. He's dangerous when he's bored. It's why he does things like hauling dummies over to the Chinaman's house to be burned.
Burt slouches along, taking a moment to spit to the side, before he nods to his brothers. "Harry, Wade."
Wade is bored too, after all the season's over and the brothers just got their last pay. He glances conspiringly between the two and says, "Well now.. Can't say as I do." He jumps down and motions for them to follow around the side of the Trading Post, "But that Marcel kid just went inside and it might be quite a bit of fun to have a little play with him when he comes out." He laughs, "Get it .. play... just like all that Sherkespeah he's spouting."
Harry spits, "Damned snotty kid, actin' all smart and stuff." Of course, to Harry, a bale of hay has more smarts, just the bale of hay isn't arrogant about it. "So, whaddaya want to do to him?"
Burt sniffs, rubbing his nose on his sleeve. "Oughta kick the shit out of him." Burt's bored too. "That'd teach him t'talk regular like."
Wade laughs aloud at his brother's comment and grins. "Yeah. Yeah, we outta do that." Then Theo exits the Trading Post. The three men are standing along the edge of the building and Wade lifts a hand to quiet the others as he hears the door and points. He whispers, "When he walks on by, Harry you reach out and haul him over here." Harry being the biggest of the three.
Harry suggests easily, "We could break his jaw or something." Acts of wanton violence! Yes, just point him in the right direction. Uh, oh, yeah, that's him. The muscle.
[Theo] Cutting a trim figure, this youth stands about 5'7 inches, with an unruly mop of blond hair draping over green eyes and curling around ears and brushing the collar of whatever shirt is worn. Theo is fine-featured, fine-boned, lean and trim and athletic and without facial hair of any real distinction. Perhaps somewhere between 15 and 18, the youth walks with a cocky confidence, though there's no gunbelt on the youth's hips and only the hilt of a knife pokes out of the right boot. Atop Theo's thatch of hair sits squarely a quality hat of dusty grey, not particularly matching the white poet's shirt, the camel-hued vest and dark Levis.
Burt grins at Harry. That'd be something to ease the boredom wouldn't it. He eyes the kid with an amused expression.
Theo does exit the trading post, a parcel tucked into his gunbelt (which hangs loose on him), and his admiration and attention mostly on a new knife he's evidently purchased. Clean-bladed, the the thing is more attractive for the handle -- appears to be elk-horn, smoothed and carved. If Theo paid for it with the money he had, it was steal, but judging by the
self-satisfied smirk the youth wears, Theo probably won it through a challenge or bet or some such match of wits. The knife is hefted, then flipped and caught again by the handle. Necessarily, Theo doesn't spare the three much
attention.
Wade whispers to Harry, "I want that knife..." He gives him a little nudge in the side, "Just don't run into it getting him over here."
Harry gives Wade a sour look to go along with his sour aroma, before he steps out into Theo's path and revealing lightning speed for someone so large. The next time the knife goes up, he snatches out of the air, and flips it to Wade, "Here."
Burt sees Harry pull that move and jumps to the side when he sees his brother toss the knife, just in case his aim ain't as good as he thinks it is.
Predictably, Theo's head shoots up and his eyes narrow on Harry for a split second before he glances at Wade and then Burt, assessing the situation. "Jackass. That's mine." Was for about five minutes, anyway. Theo steps back, though, and away from this too-quick and large man. He'll head over toward Wade.
Wade catches the knife, though not adeptly and gets a nick in his hand because of it. Angered he turns and buries the blade into the side of the building before standing in front of it and smirking at the approaching Theo. "Well now, boys, lookie here. We got ourselves a Sherksespeahan Boy." He snerks, the laughter coming through his nose as he feigns a rub at his eyes, "What's the matter Leo... want your knife back?"
Burt shakes his head, walking towards the big man with a chuckle. "Damn, Harry, watch what you're doin'. Ya wanna stick us or somethin'?" He doesn't seem to be paying any attention to Theo but that won't stop him from sticking out a foot and trying to trip the kid as he goes past.
Harry gives Theo a strong shove, "Don't be like that, we're just bein' friendly." He stands behind the kid, arms crossed. Chances of the kid getting away? Not good. He doesn't appear to be bothered though, the injury done to Wade. Not his fault if the kid ain't learned how to catch knives.
"Not Leo, sirrah," Theo considers and would have stopped a few feet from Wade, but is shoved forward by Harry. Credit to him, the youth has splendid balance and he merely aims himself, then, letting his body be propelled those few feet into Wade. Can't feel good for Wade, to get slammed into the hilt of the knife he stands in front of. "Sirrah!" Theo cries out, rather theatrically as he straightens and clears his throat, "You've recognized my worth, though I've so diabolically disguised it. And to name me after Leo, the splendid lion? Color me flattered." Theo would try, if he can, to swing around and get his back to the wall -- if space allows. He's got a smile on, and
adrenaline flushes his cheek, sparkles his eyes.
Wade curses aloud as he gets that hilt in his shoulder, too stunned to really do more then help Theo regain his balance by shoving him away. He looks at Burt and rubs at his shoulder, "What the hell did he just say?" He looks back at Theo, "Yer a pansy aren't ya?" He rubs his hands against his pants in disgust.
"God dammit," swears Burt. "Why can't you talk like a normal person." He glances at Harry. "What do you think. Can we teach him to talk right?"
Harry reaches out a meaty paw to put on Theo's shoulder, squeezing slightly, "Apologize." He orders this again, "Apologize to Wade for doin' that." He's not going to let this snot-nosed kid get away with this.
Very well. Theo, caught still in too small a space to be able to dodge much that might be done to him, reaches slowly to touch his hat as he studies Wade
solemnly: "I apologize for your brother, for shoving me into you, noble sir." That said, Theo tries to drop, to shrug off that hand on his shoulder and roll away from Burt and between Harry and Wade in his first bid for an escape.
"Noble Sir?" Wade is too close to stop Theo from trying to roll away, but he's going to be right after him once he realizes what is up. Maybe he'll catch an ankle or something especially of the other two manage to slow him down.
Burt glowers as Theo tries to makes his break for it. "That ain't gonna cut it, not by a long shot." He's not going to risk getting in between Harry and Theo though so he starts circling around the big man to get in position to go after Theo if he gets away from Wade and Harry.
Harry squeezes tighter, enough to make it painful, as he says says conversationally to Burt, "Well, now I think that we could teach him to talk right. Of course, I'm going to beat the shit out of him for his wise mouth. Wade, why don't you get his gun, eh?"
That didn't work. Theo's really not wanting to get in close quarters with anyone he doesn't know well, on general principal. Harry's odor really adds motivation to common sense. And the big man was too quick again, having caught Theo against the wall with his bulk, but at least (mercifully for Wade) away from Wade. "You've --" Theo hisses out, trying now to raise a leg to use as leverage to unbalance Harry, "Got something against the Bard, you ignorant goat?" On the other hand, Theo's gun is there also trapped up against Theo and the wall and Harry. Unfortunately, it's not peace-tied; Theo's disregarded that particular regulation recently, when he's on the outskirts of town. Little it's helped him. He tries to raise his arm up and pull Harry's hat down over his face.
Wade catches his balance realizing a little belatedly that he doesn't have to lunge. Tottering there for a moment he looks from Harry to Theo's
waist and says, "I would if I..." Well the holster's there, the gun must be there too. Skirting around Theo's attempt to dislodge Harry, Wade will be brave and reach right in the fray, groping around till his hand catches the handle. With any luck, he'll pull it free without shooting off someone's foot. "Ahright, but only if I can pistol whip him with it."
Ah hell, Burt is tired of screwing around and this isn't as much fun as he was expecting. At least not yet. As he comes around Harry he steps in swinging a punch from the hip aimed at Theo's side.
Harry grunts as the lights go out in Maddock, no wait, that was just his hat. He releases his grip on the kid to get the hat screwed back into place, just so. He has an image to present, you know. Besides, apparently, Burt's bored. He steps back to let the smaller two have a go. They deserve to have some fun as well.
Up until now, Harry's been Theo's main concern. But now, he's stepped back in coordinated effort of Wade and Burt. Theo's hit, unable to move fast enough to evade the fist (as is his usual practice in these sorts of situations). Burt cannot help but realize in that impact, that Theo's much lighter than he looks; those loose clothes, carefully padded, are like a Persian's fur -- all fluff and little substance. Theo's entire breath snaps from him in an unintentional grunt as he's slammed again into Wade. Momentarily stunned, he seems to hold still for Wade to take his gun. Then Theo's hat comes back up and he reaches for Wade's gun. Fair's fair.
Thierry strides over from western outskirts.
A group of men are having a brawl in front of the Trading Post.
Wade gets the gun, and likely Theo get's his as well. Thing is, Theo's in for a bit of a surprise should he try to fire it since Wade's been a bit broke and hasn't bought any ammunition for it in a while. It's about as loaded as a preacher on Sunday morning. Well, most preachers anyway. He backs off with it, not lightning fast or anything since he's not really much with a gun, but he will raise it and he will point it at Theo.
Now this is what Burt was talkin' about. Fun. As he pulls back his right fist from hitting Theo, he launches his left from his hip, driving another punch towards the thespian's middle.
Thierry strides towards the trading post, with purpose, a basket on his arm, to meet Theo, who is apparently getting the crap kicked out of him. "Theo?" Down goes the basket, and up comes the gun. "What's going on?"
Harry smirks at Theo, getting pummeled by Burt. "We'll teach ya, boy." However at Thierry's entrance, he moves to block the scene, "Move along, old man, ain't nuthin' to see here."
Evidently Theo's not willing to either trust his aim, this gun or kill a man. The weapon is good and solid and heavy and Theo's hand curls around it tightly as he's doubled over by Burt's fist. Count one. Count two. And it's pure willpower that lets Theo -- without air -- swing up from that bent-over position to catch the gun in his other hand too. Like the brutal upswing of a bat, Theo straightens (crookedly) and sails that heavy weapon at the side of Burt's head. All the youth's lean strength that he can muster is put behind that, in addition to the energy of the arc of motion.
Burt staggers to the side as his head snapped to the side by the blow. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs he puts a hand up and it comes away sticky with blood. "God dammit I'm gonna kill you, you sonuvabitch." Apparently he only likes kicking other people's asses. He doesn't care for it when they actually fight back.
Wade ignores the old man as well, at least initially as Theo moves to strike back against Burt. As his older brother steps back, Wade steps forward the gun half heartedly trained on Theo. That wasn't a nice thing to do, not to my brother.. not with my gun." He lunges, careful not to point the barrel of his gun away from Theo as he intends to wrestle for his own piece back.
Clearly this is a shoot first, ask questions later situation, as Thierry trains his gun on Wade and cocks the hammer. Still, some warning is required, in some etiquette book, "Hold on there, partner, you step away from the kid, and I won't have to shoot you."
Harry smirks at Burt, "What have I told you about fallin' for them sorts of tricks." Still, he reaches around Burt and delivers a meaty paw backhand to Theo, "Behave yourself." He doesn't seem to concerned about Thierry right now.
Gagging, still, from a basic lack of air, Theo completes the swing so that the gun thuds solidly against the wall opposite Wade from Theo. Wade's job is made easier, though, because Theo's fingers also hit the wall and there's a strangled yelp as they spasm and Wade's gun falls free. Theo sags back, turning to assess the greatest risk here, again, with bleary eyes. He doesn't see Thierry, doesn't hear anything but his heart and ragged breath roaring in his ears. Between Burt's expression and Wade's intent, Theo decides that Burt's the worry. He swallows, scratchy and weak voice muttering, "It's not nice to insult the Bard." Theo's head drops back for a moment against the wall so his next swallow is more visible, then he shoulders himself away from the wall to try to catch his balance and maybe dodge Burt's advance. Wade. Get the gun. Maybe Theo can get a kick in there, while you're down. Don't think he won't try it.
That was the idea, then. But Theo's slammed right back into the wall once more, courtesy of Harry. That little air he'd fought for sails out of him again.
At the sound of the click, a death sentence to be any man in the west, Wade diverts his attention from Theo and turns to train the gun towards the sound. He's confused, why's the old man getting involved? Is it the old man? Hard to know, since the four are in close proximity, but somebody just cocked a hammer. It is Harry who does the most damage to the situation backhanding Theo and causing him to bump against the unsettled Wade. *BANG*
Burt takes another couple of staggering steps to the side, still a bit dazed as he paws at his holster. Theo wants to pistol whip him, he'll show him a thing or two about pistol whipping. Too bad his gone is peace tied according to the law since he hadn't actually intended to shoot anyone when they started this. In his present state he's having a bit of trouble getting it loose. A steady stream of profanity pours from his mouth. He must have been hanging around some miners because, amazingly enough, he manages not to repeat any words.
Now either it's sheer dumb luck on Wade's part or maybe he's smarter than he looks because when the gun fires, seconds later there's a red blossom appearing at Thierry's shoulder, and he looks startled that it's happened, and despite the fact that Theo's in there somewhere, his instinct is to fire back.
Harry grunts, "Shit, Wade, you shot him. We should take this show on the road." Maybe he learned something from his abortive attempt to lynch Kei. Then he adds, "Shoot him again though, make sure he's dead."
Guns now. That gets through Theo's temporary, panic-induced deafness. He looks up, past, to see another man -- pieces of him -- past Harry's bulk. Maybe this is his chance; Theo jerks himself off the wall and turns to bolt away from Harry and Wade, who has his gun out, and past Burt who's in the process.
*Ptwing* Thierry's own shot is too close for comfort, ricocheting off the boards. This is of course the only reason why Wade fires back, not really thinking about the fact that Harry said to make sure he's dead. It's instinct, it's self defense! Once the shot is fired, it's too late to take it back. He curses, "Oh man, Oh man, Oh man. This is bad, we need to get out of here. Grab that one, we can't have him running to the Sheriff. Oh man, oh man." He hasn't even checked to see if the shot hit Thierry, he tosses the gun aside.
Burt turns slowly, trying to get his gun free when the sudden shot makes him jump and his gun shoots out of the holster, straight up into the air. He makes a fumbling grab for it and bobbles it a moment before finally getting a good grip on it and just then it bucks in his hand, spitting fire and smoke. Burt begins patting himself down, his heart racing. Did he shoot himself? He doesn't think he shot himself. He might have shot himself. Wait, no, he doesn't seem to have shot himself. Thank God. Wait, where did the bullet go then? Who the hell cares, its time to go!
Dang, Wade's two for two today, probably for the first time in his life. This one is about as aimed as the other one was. This time, another bloom of red, this time in Thierry's side. Blinking once, twice, wonderingly, "Teodora?" Then it's face first into the street. He doesn't move, but the blood begins to seep into the ground.
Harry takes two long steps, then scoops up Theo in a simple gesture around waist. Another movement, and the boy's been thrown over his shoulder. "Let's git, boys." He doesn't spare a glance for Thierry except to clap Wade on the shoulder, "Good shootin'." Then it's away.
A wolf's howl pierces the silence.
Caught again, the back of Theo's brain registers the dim thought that this huge man is unfairly fast. The youth's tumbled over a shoulder, and this time the air's knocked out of him, he sags over for a moment. The jouncing foils his vision, so he can't quite focus on the man that dropped, and Theo's hat falls off as well, dropping to roll on its rim and come to lay near Thierry. Long blond hair, raggedy in the fashion of a ranging cowboy, now drapes down over Harry's back. Theo rouses himself enough to make a grab for the man's gun. Under the best of circumstances, that'd be tough. This is not the best.
Burt runs like hell, shoving his gun back into his holster before following after Harry. Crap crap crap.
Harry shakes his victim, making sure Theo's stomach is poised over his shoulder. With each jog, it's shoved at him. "Be good or I'll slap you again." Then he begins striding north. Of course, the trade off for the quickness is that his stamina is for shit. So, he starts huffing and puffing for too long.
By the time they're wherever they're going, Theo's blacked out several times and come to once again and has seriously considered vomiting down Harry's back, though he's not quite even had the strength to manage that, either. Finally, finally, he's pleaded, "Set me down -- I'm going to be sick."
Harry huffs and puffs as he comes to their 'hideout' as it were. Theo gets dumped, rather unceremoniously in a corner. "Shit, Burt, that damn near tuckered me out. Where's Wade?" He sits there and breathes heavily, trying to get his wind back.
Burt is doing a bit of huffing and puffing himself and he's got a splitting headache. Putting a hand to his head reminds him why and his face turns uglier than it already is as he glares at Theo. If he wasn't out of breath he'd teach Theo a thing or two. He shakes his head at Harry's question and oh was that a mistake. When the pretty lights ease up a little he says, "Hell if I know." He jerks his chin at Theo. "What in damnation are we going to do with him now."
Theo is dropped, barely buffering his fall with trembling limbs. He curls into himself, somewhat, and tries to find a fairly defensible position -- facing the other two and with his knees bent in front of him as he sits. One of those rare
occasions, Theo doesn't have any suggestions. His hair flops like a mop, and his head is tilted somewhat down, to let it obscure most of his features except those large green eyes.
Harry shrugs slightly, "Well, we could kill him." He's probably been hanging out with Mason or something too long. Either that or he's that pissed off. More panting. "SHIT. I wish we had something to drink." He mumbles, "I only hope Wade's doin' something smart." Like Harry'd know what that was.
Burt nods, gingerly probing the side of his head with one hand while he eyes Theo. He hopes it's not too bad 'cause he'll be damned if he goes to some damn chu to have it looked at. "Hell, I didn't want t'kill anyone. Just wanted to have some fun," he grumbles. "But we can't just let him go. Not now."
Really, Theo doesn't like the way this is going. Whoever Wade is -- the other guy probably -- is going to be his salvation? Or maybe he'd just as soon not have Wade show up. THese two might not make independent decisions. "What is it that you two have against Shakespeare?" This has really been bugging him.
Harry squints at Theo, "No one's talkin' to you. Shut the hell up." He stands up and notes to Burt, "If he stays here, well, we are gonna hafta to." He grumps, "Don't have rations or anythin' like that."
Burt grimaces. It'd be easier to think if his head didn't hurt so much. "We could get some. Just enough t'keep him here while we figure this thing out. Maybe see if Wade shows up."
"Where the hell is this place?" Theo asks, quieter though still asking. "Look. I'm not inclined to die. I don't know who the hell you are. I don't know why the hell you went after me. You want the knife that bad, you can damn well have it. I don't much want to stay here either. What say we all just shake hands and walk away." Who'd you kill, anyway? Theo doesn't ask that, doesn't even suggest he saw that.
Harry bobs his head in agreement, "Yeah, or Mason." He sighs, "Well, I should probably go, since you've been done hit in the head. You gonna be able to watch over him with that head?" He waves a hand, "Shut up, kid, ain't none of your business if the old man got it. He done got what folks oughta get for stickin' their nose into other folks business."
Burt nods, pulling his gun from it's holster and looking for something he can sit on. "Yeah, I can watch him. Get me some whiskey or something while you're at it? I could really use a drink." He fishes money for a bottle of the cheap stuff out of his pocket and offers it to Harry.
Theo exhales then, looking at both Harry and Burt, and then falling silent. This is bad, whatever this is that's fallen upon him. And Theo doesn't know what, really, or who it was who died trying to help out. What he does know is that these two are with a killer, and Theo's fate depends on the killer's decision. Theo glances toward the mouth of the mine and he murmurs, "I'll be backing up now, here, to lean against this wall."
Harry grabs for the money, shoves it in a hidden pocket. Well, hidden from his eyes, as the flab of his stomach hides much. "Damn well better." He remarks to Burt, "Think I'll bring back a gag and some rope to. Don't want him spouting all that flowery, pansy talk. Might infect a man."
"He damn well better not," grumbles Burt. "My head hurts too much already." He waves his pistol at Theo. "You just make sure you keep your hands where I can see 'em and don't make any sudden moves. And shut the hell up."
Alright. Theo remains pretty much where he is, not making any sudden moves and really not going for his knives that he still has. He'll be the picture of a contented prisoner, except for his longing study of the mine cave entrance. His hands, obligingly, come out to rest in the floor's rubble by either side of him.
Harry ambles his way to that cave entrance, with ducked head, leaving. He calls back, "I'll be back in a while. See if I can't see who Wade shot. Probably nobody important."
Burt nods, leaning back against a wall while he keeps an eye on Theo. One good thing about this headache, he doesn't have to worry about nodding off anytime soon. Unless maybe he's got a concussion but he's not feeling sleepy so probably not. "I reckon it weren't. Still, it'll be good to know who it was just in case."
Theo stares back at Burt, now and then, but his features don't harbor any particular malice. They are, in fact, mostly unreadable. Theo now and the lets his own eyes half shut, then lower completely. Within about an hour, the day's events have taken their toll. The youth falls asleep, sagging over and curling into himself in a loose fetal position. One hand finds and curls around the hilt of the knives on his gunbelt, but it'll likely lose that strategic position in slumber's movements.