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Zorolo · #12 [ ] 02-13-2008, 05:21 PM

OoC: I say I concur, madam. Also, I can't wait to see what occurs in LEA's new thread that we are both a part of. Shall be interesting to have Amaranth and Zorlo meet, methinks.

BiC: If Monroe were a strong man, he wouldn't have stood as if he knew he could win. He would know very well that victory was the only chance to survive. That was it, even if it meant helping these fools out, despite how much the two may not have wanted to. The dark clad man knew he wasn't strong, even if he was brave, but he would have to appear strong to these people. That was how the world worked, after all. Appearance meant everything to getting a job or winning a fight. Well, that and actually being strong.

If Monroe were a cunning man, he wouldn't have questioned if this choice he were making was truly an intelligent one. He would know what he was doing was ingenious. In this case, not knowing if your choices were bad or not wasn't a good thing. Certainty was the only strength that people had, mostly in times of great danger. For that, Monroe would throw on a smile and be confident and not second guess himself.

For now, the dark clad man crossed his arms again and tapped his foot. He was strong and he was clever. He wouldn't let himself say otherwise right now. Mostly since no one here seemed to have any super natural qualities, aside from Amy, but even she didn't seem to do anything too out of the ordinary. Vossler spun his gun out of its holster and spun the weapon quickly around his finger; his keen ears were ever watchful of approaching people. And, naturally, the bounty hunter heard them.

A mass of people began to pour out through the narrow alleyways of the city towards where the group was. "Well, looks like they elected to follow us. Time to get going," Monroe said as he clicked the hammer of his gun back and pulled the trigger, blowing a hole clean through his target's head. Too easy. "Time to go," the mercenary noted as he ran and lifted Amy up by her waist and over his shoulder, running quickly. With a powerful push, he moved them atop of the vehicle and smiled as he placed her down.

Monroe put his foot down, literally, just hard enough to cause the carriage shake but not break. "Get this heap moving!" the bounty hunter whispered as he drew his gun again and laid bullets into five more of the drunkards, the rest retreating as they watched the simplicity of their friends, or possibly foes, deaths. The chamber clicked and the cartridges dumped from the gun as the dark clad man reloaded his revolver.

a strong whip of the reigns set the horses in motion. The gun's chamber clicked closed, and the group was on their way. However, an unnerving noises entered the air as the horses began to run. A loud howling echoed through the empty air.

"That's not good," Monroe stated as he sat down. "So, what's your story?" he asked, keeping his keen eyes on the lookout. "I'll keep lookout for the dogs, but I think I might have gotten us off on the wrong foot," he told her, partially smiling. "Let's try to be something close to friends, as well as associates. It'll make the rich people more bearable, right?" he asked her, chuckling a bit.