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Red Dead Despair
Topic Started: Mar 17 2012, 04:06 PM (551 Views)
RainingBlades
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River Town wasn't exactly the most interesting places from what David had gathered. He probably should have seen it coming since this place was several decades behind others as far as technology was concerned; maybe the occasional Den Den Mushi throughout the whole island in case of emergencies, but that was it. Everything else was, "Like how our ancestors did things," or something like that. Not that David really cared; he was simply here to relax.

It had been about a month since he left Couture Island, but it feels like it was just yesterday that he was modeling for his parents. He still had no idea why they had him model even when he became a young adult if there stuff was supposed to be made for children; it was probably just to get under his skin. That's why he needed to get away, and he did just that. He wish he could have stayed in the Grand Line, but if there was one thing he knew about his parents, it was that they were persistent; David didn't know how far they would go to try and get him back. So the Blues was only the option, and this one appealed to him the most for some reason. He couldn't explain why, nor did it matter; the point he was away from his parents and the whole fashion industry.

Still, he guessed it could be said that his parents got one final laugh in the end; here he was, getting away from fashion yet wearing a suit tailored by only the best tailors (not his parents, people who actually made clothes for people his age). The clothing just seemed to stick with him, and he felt like he didn't have to refuse it just because he was getting away from the industry. It was, in a sense, apart of who he was, so there was no reason to get rid of that part.

David stretched his arms out as he let out a yawn. The only reason he got on this island in the first place was to lay low for awhile, in case his parents decided to go super crazy over his disappearance and track him down to even the Blues. It's not like they were special and could enlist the help of the Marines or something, but they were certainly rich enough to hire some guys to get him back if they so wished. Though to be honest, why would they want him? He was nothing but a troublemaker, and he wasn't afraid to admit it. Sure, he had his reasons, but that didn't mean what he did was any better.

David took a sip of his beer before setting it back down. That was another plus side to the island; they didn't bother to check whether you were 18 or not. If you could pick up a glass of beer and drink it, all the power to you. His parents never let him drink; said it'd corrupt him or some stupid excuse like that. So over the last day or two he decided to drink just for the sake of drinking. He was pacing himself of course; didn't want to get drunk and pass out. But hopefully he'd eventually develop a toleration to alcohol, so one day he could drink without having to worry about that. But until then, he had to drink in moderation.

As for money, well that was a bit more of an issue. He hadn't really thought about money being an issue yet, since the inn he was staying at just charged you every 10 days or when you decided to check out, whichever came first. David had only been here for 3 or so days, so he still had some time. He didn't have much to pay for besides his room, food, and his drinks at the inn's bar, but he still should still think about gaining some money. He only had 500,000 beli, and while that was a nice amount of beli, it would only last so long. He could always get a job, but doing what though?

David's eye caught sight of another table in the bar with 7 people. It looked like they were getting ready to play a game of poker as they all put some beli on the table and took out two decks of cards. Now, that would be a way to get his hands on some dough; might even be a bit fun too. Maybe it'd even manage to make him smile a bit if he won (and he emphasized if).

So the man grabbed his beer and got up from his chair. He then proceeded to grab said chair as well; he might need it if things get a bit too rough. He then walked over to the table and placed the chair down at the table. "Room for one more?" he said while looking at the man with the cards, a guy in his late twenties. He responded as coolly as David had asked: "Takes 500,000 to play. You got that kind of money, kid?"

David gulped a bit; that was all the money he had. Still, with 8 players total, that meant there was up to 4 million beli that he could win. Thats 3,500,000 more than he started with, and even if he didn't win it all, he could still get some kind of money out of it. Worse case scenario, he loses all his money and has to go get a job, plus begging to the inn to let him wait till his paycheck to pay. But David had confident that it wouldn't come to that; he had quite the poker face. He pulled out all 500,000 beli from his pocket and placed it on the table before sitting down in his chair. "Yeah, I'm in." The man nodded and then began to shuffle the cards, explaining the rules for any new-comers to the game:

"Alright guys, Wild-West Hold ' Em. Two cards each, burn one, 3 cards are dealt on the table, burn, another dealt, burn, dealt. Standard poker rules apply. Dealer moves clockwise and the person to shuffle the next deck is the guy to his right. Guy to the left gets small blind, starting at 50,000. The guy to his left gets big blind, starting at 100,000. Blind goes up every time a person goes out till there are four left. Then it's every 10 or so minutes. Any questions?"

Everybody just remained silent and a few nodded to say that they understood. The man smiled a bit before dealing out everyone's cards. Time to see if today was David's lucky day...
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About an hour had passed and 4 of the original 8 players were now out of the game. Two tried to buy back in, so the pot was now 5 million instead of 4, but they got out again and didn't want to test their luck a third time. David was still in of course, though he actually had the least amount of beli out of the remaining people. He had been playing a conservative game up to this point, and therefore only had .75 million beli, a fifth of the total pot. While it wasn't necessarily a bad thing since he started by putting in 500,000, he could still be doing better.

The next person with the least amount of cash was this guy who went by the name of Jonny with 1 million. He was a rash fellow who made the strangest bets and was completely unpredictable. It was a mystery how he was still in the game by this point. The one with the third least / second most was a woman by the name of Samantha with 1.25 million. She was a bit more level-headed, though she didn't have that good of a poker face, so it was easy to tell when she was bluffing or not. Still, by the time she got a good hand and people realized it, they all folded or stayed in and lost anyways, so she still had a considerable amount of money.

The guy with the most, 2 million beli, was the guy who was running the table and had recited the rules at the beginning. He was very much like David in the sense that he didn't reveal his name and was obviously no stranger to the game, perhaps being better than David himself. But it's not as if David needed to beat the guy out; he just was in for more money than he had come with, and right now he was doing just that. Perhaps he'll get enough money from Jonny and maybe even Samantha dropping out that he'll just leave the table altogether. Only time would tell.

"Alright guys, small blind is 50,000, big is 1 million. Time to really make some progress..." The man's words were discouraging to David since he had the small blind right now, which was 2/3 of his current beli; even if he didn't call the big blind he'd still eventually have to go all in anyways. He crossed his fingers a bit as he slid forward 500,000 beli to the center of the table,, hoping for a good pocket hand. Jonny had the big blind, which was the exact same amount as his total beli, but even so he grinned a bit though as he slid his money forward; he didn't even have his hand yet, but he seemed to feel confident about his luck.

The "nameless" man (for the sake of discussion David decided to call him No-Name from now on) dealt out the cards to everyone. David got stuck with a 2 of clubs and a 3 of hearts.... damn it! Only thing he could hope for with these would be a terrible pair or greater, or maybe a straight but that was highly unlikely. There was no way he could play this. After everyone else called the big blind, he simply folded. Luck was against him in this hand, and he wasn't about to try and push it.

Turns out he made the right decision; the river revealed that the only cards of use to him were another 2, and in the end No-name won with a pocket pair of Kings. There were no raises, so he ended up with 3,500,000, 2.5 million more than what he put in, putting him in at a whopping 4.5 million. It also meant that Jonny was now out for good, since it was clarified that nobody would be able to buy back in once it hit the final four, and Samantha was now at 250,000 left as was David. David was now dealer so he didn't have to put in any beli if he didn't want to (Samantha would have to go all in with the small blind and No-name would have to put in 1 million), but he'd have to the next time around. Though he'd only be able to earn up to 1.5 million in this hand and still lose most of it the next round, he might as well try if he can. And if it doesn't work out, then to work he goes. As the others pushed forward their beli, David dealed out the cards before putting them down. His hands now moved towards his own cards, ready to see the pocket hand that would make or break him....
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Only the most skilled players could consistently keep a good poker face. Even the most serious people who would rather die than smile can possibly slip a grin if they get the perfect hand right when they need it. It takes experience playing the game to develop the ideal poker face, even if it isn't that much. Sometimes just a little experience in controlling your emotions during games like this could make all the difference when it came to perfecting your poker face.

David was one of these people who had accomplished this task; them man had pocket Aces yet no one else would be any the wiser. With him and the last dealer both getting pocket high cards in a row, eyebrows would be raised for sure, but David knew he didn't cheat. Maybe No-name did, even if he didn't seem like the cheating type, but at least he knew he didn't, which would be good for the conscious that he did not always have. David pushed his beli forward, the expression on his face still as blank as always.

After burning a card, David proceeded to reveal the first three of the five cards the players could use to get the best possible hand; 4 of Diamonds, 10 of Hearts, and 10 of Spades. It was a little discomforting to see the two Tens since if someone was carrying a third, even his pocket Aces would be in trouble. Now, in this situation they could have just laid down there cards since nobody could raise and therefore there was no reason to hide them, but it had already been established earlier in the game that keeping cards hidden made things much more interesting, so they all agreed to keep their hands hidden until they would normally have to reveal them. Either way, it meant poker faces meant nothing by now, but that didn't mean David would let his fail.

Another card burned, another flipped up, this time a 4 of Clubs. This further discomforted David; now even someone with a 4 in their hand could take him out. On the other hand, if nobody had a 10 nor a 4, he had all but won; a flush or a straight was now impossible, and unless somebody had a pocket pair of some number and that number appeared as the fifth card. But it was still unlikely, though the fact that he was holding pocket Aces reinforced the idea that anything could happen.

The last card to be burned was put off to the side, and the next card was flipped up; 7 of Hearts. Samantha flipped over her cards to reveal pocket 5's, and No-name revealed an Ace of Clubs and a Jack of Clubs. Whether Samantha or David remained in the game was up to what was in David's hand, which was revealed to the rest without even forcing a smile out of the man. Samantha sighed a bit and pushed her chair back. To his surprise, No-name did the same; "I'm not going to test my luck any further; I'm just going to walk with what I-"

It was then that the sound of a revolver echoed throughout the bar.
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"Howdy, mothafuckas! What's happenin'?"

At the entrance of the bar was a tall man with a large, western trench coat on. He has dirty blond hair and a short beard that traveled up his jaw to his sideburns. His eyes were a dark blue and had a hint of drunkenness to them, supported by the fact that he has a beer bottle in his left hand and was leaning on someone for support. That someone was one of the 6 or so ruffians around him, all smirking and, like the man, had a gun in one hand and a bottle in the other, though they didn't seem to be as drunk.

"Dilan Border," No-name whispered towards David. "He's the biggest trouble maker in town and has a bounty of 3 million. He wouldn't really be a trouble though if it wasn't for that gang of his, plus the fact that he always catches everyone by surprise." The man named Border suddenly swung his gun around to No-name, finger on the trigger. "Hey.... the fuck you whis-whis-whispering o'r thar?" No-name just stayed silent and didn't move. David took notice of a revolver holstered on his belt, but he assumed that he didn't want to draw it and cause trouble. Besides, Mr. Border decided to point his gun else where, this time towards the bartender. He took some steps forward and addressed the man mentioned: "Hey man! Why don't you give me some of dat beer ya have lying around thar for me an' my friends?" This wasn't the first person that David had encountered who spoke this way (it was Wild Wild West after all) but most of them had spoken somewhere between that and normal. Speaking of which, No-name over here seemed to be a resident, yet he spoke without an accent. Well, that was odd, but whatever.

The bartender brought over three six packs of beer in his arms and Mr. Border's lackies took them from him. The leader himself grinned a bit and, after seeing that he had his cargo, proceeded to smash his empty bottle against the bartenders head. The glass shattered as the man collapsed to the ground, yet nobody did anything. David could see several people, including No-name, moving around their fingers near their guns (or at least where he presumed them to be), tempted to take them out and start shooting. The answer to why they didn't was soon whispered to David from No-name: "Dilan's got some powerful allies outside of River Town; even if we could take him down, it would mean trouble for not just us, but the entire town." As is such, they all watched the gang leave, one by one.

Mr. Border was the last to go and was about to push open the door to leave himself when he suddenly stopped. He slowly turned around and his eyes locked right onto David. "Hey..... why *hic* are ya lookin' at me funneh?" This situation would puzzle most people; David was just looking at him like everyone else, though unlike others, you couldn't even see his eyes because of his shades, so it was near impossible to give him "a funny look". Yet David knew what this was about: Mr. Border here wanted something interesting to happen. He wanted to cause trouble yet nobody had given him a reason to. So he simply picked a guy to blame, and it looks like he was that guy. Either that or he was so drunk he was seeing things. That could be it too.

Now, in this situation, there was one of three things David could do in response. The first, and most obvious, was to deny that he was giving him "a funny look" with the possibility of explaining how he couldn't give him one or trying to calm him down if need be. But that wouldn't do anything since the guy would still want to cause trouble anyways, and if it was just the drunk thing, he'd think Dave was being a smartass and want to beat him up even more now. The second option was to pretend like he did give him "a funny look" and admit it, possibly adding in an actual smartass comment. But that would, unfortunately, yield the same results, as did the third option which was simply saying nothing at all. Now, the advantage of the last option was that he wouldn't have to think of what to say and David wasn't a fan of talking to begin with, so he decided to go for that option.

But like he predicted, Mr. Border came towards David despite his decision. "Mothafucka I said why are ya lookin' at me funneh?!?" Most of his gang opted to stay outside and drink until he came back out, but one of them came back in to try and get him to do so.
Hey boss, let's just get out of here. Dis guy aint worth the bullets."
"Shu' the fuck up!" Mr. Border snapped back, his gun now pointed at his own subordinate, who then proceeded to raise his arms and backed out to rejoin the others. The man then put his gun back towards David, who had now stood up and was busy folding up his chair. Mr. Border just looked at him strangely before asking him a third time: "I said why the fuck are ya lookin' at me funneh?!?!?" David, chair in hand, just stared at the man. It was time to use plan B.

"Because your face pisses me off."

And with that the iron chair was swung over and nailed Mr. Border in the side, sending him crashing to the floor.

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Edited by RainingBlades, Apr 4 2012, 06:54 PM.
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Dilan Border had powerful connections. There were bigger fish in the bond on Wild Wild West, and one or two of them had become good aquatints with Mr. Border. Said allies would hunt down somebody who killed or even just hurt him unless they felt that he deserved it, and right now, it didn't seem like that was how they'd see it. Now, David was told about these friends, yet he simply didn't care. He did what he wanted to, and that was to knock this drunkard down to the ground onto his ass.

Maybe he would have been shot down in the process if some of Mr. Border's friends were still around, but they couldn't hear much going on since they were chilling across the dirt road, waiting for their boss. Even if they heard some crashing, they'd assume it was Mr. Border who was doing the beating up, not the other way around. Yet there he was, lying on the ground. Now, maybe he himself could shoot David, but it wasn't as if the latter was an idiot; when Mr. Border dropped his gun after being hit, the blonde haired man simply knocked it across the bar. Nobody thought to pick it up to prevent Mr. Border from potentially getting it back, but even if they did think about it, they still didn't want to get involved.

Nobody cheered on David, though nobody cheered against him. All were silent and simply stayed still. The only movement in the bar was Mr. Border beginning to stand up, though said movement was soon met with more movement, this time from David as he brought his chair up into the air and proceeded to crash it down on Mr. Border's head. Such a collision forced him back to the ground and probably left a nasty bump, though it wasn't as if either cared at the moment. The "victim" was simply baffled by how easily he, Dilan Border, was being bested by some random guy. The aggressor in question simply turned around and took some steps back to the poker table. He folded up his earning and put them in his pocket before downing the rest of his beer, or at least the small amount that was left. He was still getting accustomed to the taste, but you couldn't tell it by looking at him.

He placed the bottle back on the table and turned back towards Mr. Border, who had now successfully gotten onto his feet. He eyed his gun across the room, but even a complete idiot would be able to tell that if he just went for it, he would be struck down by the chair-wielding man. No, he would have to fight his way over to it, though without the weapon he was at a severe disadvantage against his opponent. But if David could use a chair as a weapon, why couldn't he? Therefore, he picked up a wooden stool and held it with both hands by two of the three legs, similar to how David held his when actually attacking. Though for the moment, the latter just held it in one hand, grabbing it by the underside of the backrest. He tilted his head down a bit pushed his sunglasses up to make sure they were on securely. He then looked back at Mr. Border and opened his mouth.

"Strife."

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Edited by RainingBlades, Apr 5 2012, 06:12 PM.
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Mr. Border thought that anybody could swing around a chair and break stuff. And in that regard, he would be absolutely right; using a chair as a weapon didn't make you special. What was special however was the way David could use it like nobody else. People like Mr. Border would think that all you do is basically use the chair to bash heads in, but David had perfected his Strife Specibus and the use of a chair as a weapon. From how he held it with perfect balance to the way he swung it in just the right way, David could make a chair much more than a simple weapon used to bash heads in. It was an art, and he was the greatest artist there was.

So when Mr. Border simply swung his chair at him live he was some caveman or something, David couldn't help but feel sorry for the man. Perhaps if he actually new a thing or to about using a chair for a weapon he could prove a worth opponent. But alas, he didn't, so David would have an easy time with this guy. He slammed his chair into Mr. Border's, stopping the pathetic excuse for an attack with ease before he brought in out to his side again and rotated his upper torso back some. He then swung his chair back around and once again to Mr. Border's left side, though this time the man began to spin around a full 360 degrees before he fell once again to the ground.

Anybody who truly appreciated Chair-kind as a Strife Specibus would have been in awe at the precision of the blow against Mr. Border, the weapon connecting with him in just the right way to cause him to spin around like that. But, as if it wasn't obvious by now, nobody here did recognize fighting with a chair as an art and, as a result, simply thought that David got lucky or that Mr. Border was just prone to falling down, perhaps by his drunkenness. And perhaps the latter was a factor, but it was still mostly due to David's skill at wielding a chair. Or at least that's what he told himself; whether it's actually true or not is irrelevant.

Anyways, Mr. Border placed the chair onto the floor and used it as a leverage to help get up. Or at least he would have gotten up if David hadn't swung his chair right between the man's legs, delivering a critical hit to the nads. The unfortunate man fell back to the ground, this time his hands letting go of the chair and clutching his nether region, the pain simply antagonizing. David simply took a few steps back, unfolded his chair, and sat down in it, watching Mr. Border get up in the same fashion as before. Perhaps he didn't learn his lesson, or maybe he knew David wasn't going to knock him down the same way again. But either way, he now left his chair and was now running to what seemed to be the exit. Though unfortunately for David, he had forgotten one small detail; that's where he kicked the gun off to, and soon it was back in Mr. Border's hands. David jumped off of his chair and to the side, narrowly escaping the bullet that ended up breaking a glass behind him on a table.

But now David was on the floor and the gun was once again pointed at him, Mr. Border's trigger finger about ready to pull if it wasn't for a man who spoke up: "Dilan, there's no fairness in bringing a gun to a chair fight." Mr. Border's attention was now drawn towards No-name over there, and although his gun didn't follow in suit, David was still able to grab his chair and bring it in front of him to use as a bullet shield if necessary. No-name then began to speak again: "Where's your honor if you shoot and kill a man simply because he wiped your ass in a fight? You'll be the mockery of everyone: the town, your gang and those friends of yours."

Mr. Border looked back at David, still covering himself up with his chair in the manliest and not coward like way possible, and back again at No-name. He then sheathed his revolver and turned his attention back again to David. "Tomorrow. High Noon. To the Death." He then walked out of the bar as if he would never forget this day for as long as he lived.

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David got up and knocked some dust and dirt off from his jacket, acting as if he didn't almost die right there. Everybody went back to their business the same way, as if they forgot the fight even happened. But it was obvious No-name didn't; he approached David and spoke in a depressing tone: "Well, it was nice knowing ya kid." David just tilted his head a bit to show his confusion since his eyes couldn't. "Don't ya understand? Dilan Border is one of the best sharpshooters around; you can't hope to beat him in a standoff."

David was equally confused by this statement. Standoff? What, was that a competition where people try to stand as long as possible? "Look, I don't even know what you're talking about," he replied to No-name, whose face grew more depressed by said response. "Ok, at the very least tell me that you've used a gun before." It was times like these that David was compelled to lower his sunglasses in a cool manner and just stare at the person talking to him. But he thought keeping the sunglasses on was cooler, so he instead just shook his head slightly.

No-names palm connected with his face as he let out a small groan. He looked all over the room as if he was hoping to magically find a solution to the problem. The knocked-out bartender that everybody forgot about didn't seem to yield anything, nor did the other poker players leaving the table for good. Not even the ceiling had an angel descending from it or something. No-name sighed and then lowered his hand, looking back at David. "Alright, a stand-off is where two people stand back to back and walk ten paces in the opposite direction," he began to explain. "They then draw their guns and shoot at each other, aiming to kill most of the time. Guy who doesn't die protects his honor; the one that does loses his. It's the only way somebody could kill Dilan Border and actually get away with it despite his friends, but to think that he'd actually accept, no, challenge somebody to a stand-off..."

David just kept staring at No-name, though the latter wouldn't be able to tell. It was obvious that he man knew he had never used a gun before, so it as absurd to think that he'd actually stick around to get killed. No-name, however, seemed to be reading his thoughts. "But don't think about running away or anything; as soon as they catch wind of it, they'll take you down before you can get off the island. River Town is still a good distance from the sea, so even with water or horse transportation, you couldn't make it." David just sneered at this comment: "Ok so I just die no matter what? Sounds like a plan to me!" "Will you be quiet for just a little more?" No-name snapped back. David continued the staring, and even though his sunglasses still hid his eyes, it's as if No-name still knew he was glaring at him. "Now, the solution is simple; I teach you how to at least somewhat use a gun by tomorrow at high noon. You might get lucky or something, but even if it's a slight chance, it's better than none at all."

David looked over at the door leading outside. He could always take the blue pill and leave, forcing himself to believe that he could get of the island anyways in time or take them down if they came after him even if he knew he wouldn't last. Or, he could take the red pill and stay with No-name here and learn how to shoot a gun, if only for this "stand-off". It was either death by many guns in shame or by one in bloody glory, and the last just seemed more appealing.

"I'm in."
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River Town was an average sized town with it's main source of water, irrigation and transportation stemming from the river that flowed directly between the town, from North to South. The largest bridge connecting the two sides was in the dead center of town, and it was here that the stand-off would take place, No-name explained. For now, though, they would be going to the outskirts of town for Sharpshooting 101. It took them probably 10 minutes to get to the ideal training spot; in the shade with plenty of things to aim and shoot at.

"Alright," No-name began, gun in hand, "this is your standard revolver. It has six shots before you need to reload it, though you won't have to worry about that. The importance is simply firing it." He then pointed the gun out towards one of the trees about 15 feet away. "In order to simply fire it, you do the most obvious thing: you pull the trigger." He did so and a shot fired, though it didn't seem to hit anything. "It's the aiming that gets you. You need to point the gun at what you're aiming for, accounting for the difference in view that you have with where the barrel is actually facing. While it might seem like you are aiming at an object, you might be off if you don't do this. But if you do..." No-name pulled the trigger again, only this time the branch of the tree suddenly broke and fell off, the bullet causing it to split.

Perhaps if old 80's montages existed then the two would have opted for that instead, but instead David had to go throw all the steps necessary. He went over and got the gun from No-name and pointed it at the same tree, this time a different limb though. After pointing it to what he thought was just the right place, he pulled the trigger. However, he wasn't expecting the strong kick back that such a small gun possessed, and his arm moved back a bit (ok, more like a lot), and the gun ended up pointing way too high, causing the bullet to miss the tree by far. "Not as easy as it looks, eh?" David just stared at No-name for a second before resuming with his target shooting.

David once again pointed the gun, again at the same branch he was aiming for. He adjusted it slightly to make up for his difference in point of view and, after taking a deep breath, fired the gun. His arm was prepared this time, so even though he still felt the same kick back, his arm didn't move in such a wild fashion as before. However, the bullet still didn't hit the branch like intended but rather ran into a tree just behind it. "Takes some getting used to, huh? Alright, let's try again."
Edited by RainingBlades, Apr 8 2012, 10:08 AM.
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Learning to use a gun properly wasn't really a hard thing, even for someone who never had before. After about 30 minutes of practicing and receiving tips, David was finally able to at least hit in the close vicinity of the spot he was aiming for. Since you just needed to kill the opponent to win a stand-off, No-name explained to him, it wasn't necessary to have perfect accuracy. If it was, he wouldn't have bothered training David in the first place; he'd tell him to run because there would be no way in hell he could beat Dilan Border.

However, there was more to a stand-off then shooting a gun; it required speed. Since both people would be drawing their weapons and turning at the same time (it was considered dishonorable to go early), you needed to be the fastest at pulling your gun out and firing. "That's the only chance you have at beating him," No-name told him. "Dilan Border could probably hit a pimple on your face dead on from a mile away, but he isn't the fastest to get the gun out to do it. Not to say he's a slowpoke, but.... well, you get the picture."

David wasn't exactly fast either, but it seemed like he would have to be. He now began to work on pulling out his gun as fast as he could while still having a firm grasp on it, and following that he practiced actually aiming and firing it. This proved to be the most dificult part by far; anyone could learn how to fire a gun and get somewhat accurate, sure, but that was with time to aim and fire. Here, it was all in a matter of a few, short seconds. And if you messed up, you died. Plain and simple.

David practiced this for the next few hours. He was wasting tons of bullets and No-name had to keep fetching them, but he said it wasn't a problem. David wondered why, but it wasn't in his right to ask and there was no reason to complain, so he just kept on going. Eventually though, it started to get dark, and No-name decided to stop David here, asking for his gun back. "Alright, no reason to keep going and miss out on a good night's sleep, plus I bet you still need dinner..." His own stomach growled afterwards, leading him to chuckle a bit. "Anyways, I'll be down at the same bar after breakfeast tomorrow; if you want to do any more practicing before the real deal, just give me a shout. If not, then I guess we'll just talk at the bridge before it starts. Till then." With that, No-name, gun in hand, walked off, leaving David still in the training ground with nothing but a chair and an empty stomach.

David headed back to the hotel and got him something to eat there before heading to his room. He got undressed and put on some athletic shorts before crawling into his bed. Tomorrow was a big day; he'd either live or die, be a killer or be killed. He hoped that all this training had turned out to be helpful; didn't want to regret not trying to make a break for it, now would he? With those final thoughts, David's eyes closed and he drifted off into sleep...
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The following morning was fairly uneventful; David slept in a bit, ate a nice breakfeast, and simply sat back and relaxed for a bit, drinking a bit though not enough to impair his thinking or actions. He pondered during this time what might happen; would his training pay off? Would he actually be fast enough? What if he was but messed up, or what if he wasn't but Mr. Border messed up? What if his gun was jammed, or what if Mr. Border didn't even show up? All of these possibilities were going through his head. He didn't want to practice some more because he didn't feel like he was going to get any better by doing so in such a short time; it was less than half an hour until high noon. Maybe if he woke up earlier or was more motivated to do so.... well, it was too late now. He just had to have faith in what he's learned and put those skills to the test.

David noticed No-name at the bar but didn't say anything. Though when the latter got up to go to the bridge in the middle of town, David followed, chair in hand, still remaining silent. There wasn't much left to be said, or at least not until they actually go there. So they walked in silence, the only sound coming from people talking around them and the sound of their shoes hitting the ground one after another. It was like this for awhile until they got to the bridge, where David set his chair down, leaning against a wall, and No-name handed him his revolver and holster and spoke to him. "Alright, remember your training. Strike first, and strike in the right place. If you don't..... it was nice knowing you." David nodded and placed his revolver in his holster and placed that on his belt. "Nice knowing you too."

David looked around at the scene; several people had come to see the event, from simple residents who had heard about it to people who were in the bar at the time. There were two of the poker players, Jonny and Samantha to be exact, and the bartender from yesterday was there as well (though he had a bag of ice on his head). He looked towards the bridge that they would have their stand-off. It was about 18 feet long and 10 feet wide, made out of wood and was a flat surface. They were on the West side of town while Dilan Border would be coming from the East. In fact, there he was on his horse in the distance, riding towards the bridge with his 6 friends coming along with them. All the spectators were on David's side since they were supporting him, so if Mr. Border was expecting fans besides his own posy, then he would be disappointed.

Mr. Border got off his his horse and began to walk towards the center of the bridge, and David and No-name did the same. Once they got to the center, the two adversaries stared each other down as No-name recited the rules, cept this time they weren't for a poker game. "Alright, I'm going to be the caller for the stand-off. Make sure you're guns are in their holsters and then turn opposite ways of each other. I'll count up to ten, each number you'll take another step away from each other. After that, I'll shout 'Draw' and..... well I think you both no what to do."

No-name then stepped back to where the rest of the spectators were as David and Mr. Border kept staring at each other. "Ready to die, punk?" the latter said, to which no response was given from the former. He simply turned around to face the other way, as did Mr. Border. They were back to back, ready to begin. It was time to end this.
Edited by RainingBlades, Apr 12 2012, 04:00 PM.
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"One." David took the first step forward. "Two." It was finally time for the stand-off. "Three." David stretched his fingers out a bit and moved them around, making sure they were nice and loose. "Four." Both covering about a foot with each step, they would both be off of the bridge when they turned around. "Five." At least this way the body of the loser wouldn't fill the river with their blood. "Six." David took a deep breath as he took yet another step. "Seven." As the moment to turn around approached he had to make sure his nerves didn't get the best of him. "Eight." Only two more-

"Poker-Guy, look out!"
David looked back right as he heard the shout; he guessed it was from Jonny by the voice, but that wasn't the biggest of his worries. What was, though, was the fact that Mr. Border was just now finishing his turn-around and was pulling his gun out. That bastard... as if it was instinct, David ran and jumped off the bridge into the river below. It was deep water, so it would serve his purpose of getting out of there via the flow. Plus the water wasn't exactly clear, so he could keep himself underwater and hopefully avoid getting shot; no bullet's came his way, so he supposed that was a good thing. It was depressing that his clothes would now be all wet and, more importantly, he would now be cold until he got out and dried off, but those were worries that could be overcome easily.

After not too long he swam to land and pulled himself out of the river. He was probably 50 feet downstream of the bridge, the gun-fire ringing through his ears. Apparently he wasn't the only one who didn't appreciate Mr. Border's cheating tactics. David ran about 30 feet from the river before dashing back North to where everyone was. Upon arriving, he noticed that there was a full shoot-out going on; Mr. Border's gang vs everyone else. Fortunately for the former group nobody who wanted to get involved was on the East side of the river. David wondered if that was intentional or not. Either way, he ran over to where No-name was, taking cover behind a building, his spare revolver in hand, and took cover as well. Well, look who it is."

No-name gave David the run-down: After David jumped into the river, he had pulled out his spare gun and was looking to gun Mr. Border down, but one of his gang members already had their gun out as well and was going to take him out if he didn't take cover. It was now a full out gun fight, 7 on there side and what was 6 on theirs: No-Name, Jonny, Samantha, the barkeeper and two other bystanders (the rest of which ran away). Since then, however, one of those bystanders was already dead, though they took out one of Mr. Border's gang members as well. So now with David on the scene, it was 6 on 6.

Only problem was, the gun powder in his pistol was wet, so it's not like it could do anything. David took off the holster and lightly tossed it and the gun to the ground next to No-name. "Please tell me there's another bridge further up north." No-name nodded his head and responded: "Yeah, about 75 feet away. What are you planning on doing?" David actually cracked a smile for once. "Gonna make Mr. Border and his gang pay." With that he ran over to where his chair was, grabbed it, and started to run up North.

Mr. Border was going to regret messing with David Temple.
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Wind blowing against his wet skin and suit, cold was seemingly forced onto David's body. Yet he kept on going north, up to the smaller bridge where he could cross the river without risking going in the river again. This way he wouldn't need to swim while lugging around his chair (unless he managed to throw his chair over the river and onto the other side) but also wouldn't have to worry about catching his leg on something or anything bad like that. Truth be told, it probably didn't matter in the end, but since he was trying to flank Mr. Border's gang without being noticed and, therefore, had to travel some distance from the combat anyways, it just seemed like the better option.

Upon reaching it, David crossed the bridge quickly before heading back South again towards the battle grounds. However, it seemed that he had underestimated his opponents: by the look of things, they had noticed he had come and gone and were expecting a flank of some sorts, hence why he was soon confronted by one of the gang members. David had to once again dive to the side to avoid being shot, though this time it was diving behind a building instead of into a river. He leaned against the brick wall as he started to think about his options. On one hand, he could try using his chair as a shield, but that was stupid because if the guy was a decent sharpshooter, then he could still shoot him down since the chair wasn't large enough to completely shield David by far. Plus even if it did work, it would leave bullets imbedded in his chair, and that was just not cool.

Second option was to try and move around and flank the man, but that also wouldn't work because the fact that they had noticed his attempted flank of the entire group meant that they would expect a similar tactic again. Now, assuming this, he could possibly try a direct assault similar to the first option but under the presumption that the man wouldn't see him coming; rather he'd be looking/checking down the sides. But there was still chance that he'd see him coming anyways and take him down, and David didn't want to try and test his luck at dodging a gun shot a third time.

So that led the third option: wait. Given the situation, Mr. Border probably wanted this guy to kill him, meaning that if David didn't reveal himself in one way or another, the goon would come looking for him. And if he was at least somewhat smart, he would assume that David had moved by now and thus wouldn't hesitate starting at his current location and trying to pick up a trail of water or something. If he wasn't that smart, then he'd probably check the same place and just not consider whether he'd still be there or not. Either way, it seemed that David's best bet was to stay put and pull off an ambush (if you can call it that). He began to stand up, still pressed against the wall as much as possible, and then stood there for about 10 more seconds. Then, as if on cue, the man walked past the building and turned to face the direction where David still was.

Surprised, he quickly tried to raise his gun and fire, but David wasn't going down so easily. He slammed his chair horizontally into the man's head, causing him to let go and send the gun flying away from the building. He then raised his chair in the air and slammed it down on his aggressor's head, sending him down to the ground unconscious. David lowered his chair back to the ground and then continued down his original path. He considered picking up the gun, but he decided against it; he wasn't going to take down Mr. Border with a bullet. No, he'd feel his bones break under the cold iron that was his chair.

One down. Five to go.
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After some more running, David was back near at the site of the gun-fight again; Mr. Border and his gang about 20-25 feet away from him. One of them saw him in his peripheral vision and turned his full attention to him. "Hey, it's tha-" He was cut off as a bullet entered his head and he fell down to the ground dead. Number one rule in a fight was to never lower your guard, whether guns were involved or not. It wasn't a hard rule to follow unless you were extremely stupid, and it seemed that this guy was stupid indeed.

His warning, however, was acknowledged and David now saw two more of the gang members make their way towards David. Coming from the right, David decided to counter-flank them by moving towards the right behind a building. As his opponents moved towards where he was, the same mistake that the first guy to try and take down David had made, the man they were searching for moved around the building and came back out into the same open street that he was on. Only this time he was further down and it was he who was now chasing down the gang members, their backs now turned away from David.

David swiftly ran towards the closest one to him who, upon hearing the sound of footsteps, began to turn back around. But it was too late; before he even knew what was happening, David had sent his chair swinging towards the man's side and sent him crashing to the ground. Upon hearing this sound the grunt about five feet further down turned around to face David, gun in hand and pointing straight at David's heart. As he was getting ready to dart towards the side again, the trigger was pulled and......... nothing happened. The man looked at his gun in disbelief before realizing that he was out of ammo, a mistake that would cost him the "fight". David stopped what was going to be a dodge (and probably a failed one) and raised pulled his arm, and chair, back. He then threw it forward, the chair spinning around as it came towards the goon's head at an angle. As it slammed into the man's head, he did a complete 360 before falling down to the ground, stars spinning around in his head.

David retrieved his chair and began walking back to where the real show was before stopping to look at the guy he took out just before. He was starting to get up and making a move for his gun, which was on the ground a few feet from him. It was pitiful, really, and David just kicked the gun away before bringing his foot to the man's torso, kicking the wind out of him as he fell down to the ground again. David had a feeling he wouldn't get up again, but just in case, he raised his chair and "stabbed" his back with the legs of his chair, just to inflict more pain. It didn't seem like it was cruel to David or anything; it was just business.

David made his way towards the site of the gun-fight again and was pleased to see that, like his calculations would suggest, only two people left: Mr. Border and his last goon. Upon seeing him, Mr. Border took proper cover from the rest and raised his gun to shoot at David. Yet, ironically, it seemed that he was also out of ammo, and unlike his friend, he was able to search his body for more but still came up empty handed regardless. The last goon just looked around a bit before realizing how much at a disadvantage they were at. All three people sent to finish off David failed (four if you count his boss in the initial showdown), so it was only logical that he'd fail too. This meant that he could only do one thing: run. David saw the goon run off and get on his horse before riding away. David wouldn't know it, but he'd be running off to one of Mr. Border's friends, though he probably wouldn't find any luck there. But even if he did know it, it didn't matter; his attention was now completely focused on the last opponent reamaining.

"Well Mr. Border," David began, "shall we resume our fight from yesterday?"

Guess what these are~
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All gun-fire from David's side stopped as they heard David speak, perhaps because they felt like they shouldn't interfere if not some other reason. Mr. Border, on the other hand, simply sneered at his adversary. "Ya just think you're all that, don't ya? So ya beat sum o' my comrades; so what? That don't make ya hot shit er anything!" He dropped his gun to the ground and reached to his belt where he had a sheathe attached. From it, he pulled out an iron machete about 6 inches long and pointed it right at David. "Say ya pra'rs, boy."



Mr. Border began running towards David, blade now off to the side, and David returned the gesture by running towards him at all, his chair also out to the side. They stared right into each others eyes as they got closer and closer to one another. This was it: the final showdown. No guns, no cheap tricks, no absconding. As they entered close combat range, Mr. Border rose his machete in the air and began to swing it down at David. The latter brought up his chair towards the machete and the two weapons collided. Mr. Border's arm bounced back a bit and, much to his dismay, slipped out of his hand, which wasn't that surprising since it was slightly slippery and difficult to hold onto to begin with. "Cheap piece of-"

Mr. Border was cut off as the cold metal of David's chair bashed into his right side. After blocking the attack, he had pulled the chair back to his left, rotating his body counter-clockwise a considerable amount. He then swung the chair back and it collided with Mr. Border's side, hence the reaction already stated. The gang leader spun around 720 degrees counter-clockwise and started to stumble backwards, almost completely losing his balance.. It was now that David pulled his chair back and, with the same cold expression as ever, threw his chair at Mr. Border. There was no spin like before, it was simply a flying projectile, one that, upon colliding with its target's chest, sent Mr. Border to the ground. David walked over to the man and picked his chair off the body before staring down at Mr. Border, who was seemingly trying to get back up. "Looks like you're no better than you're cronies," David said and, with a final kick to the head, knocked Mr. Border unconscious.

Those remaining on David's side walked over the bridge and approached him. It seems that the two by-standers had been killed, but No-name, the two poker players and the barkeeper were still alive, though the latter had a bullet in his side. "I'll get it checked soon," he insisted, implying that David was going to tell him he should get it looked at (which he wasn't going to do). No-name picked up Mr. Border's unconscious body by the collar and, after a glare, dropped it back down before turning his attention back towards David. "Well it didn't turn out as planned, but you actually beat him. Way to go, kid." David just nodded before responding: You sure that Mr. Border's "friends" won't come looking for revenge?" To that, No-name just shook his head. "He'll figure out what really happened one way or another, and then he'll wish he never had anything to do with the man. Many believe you've lost your honor after losing a stand-off, but when you try and cheat at one to achieve victory.... that's just unacceptable by anybody's standards here."

Well it seemed like that was all there was to it. Pushing up his sunglasses, David proceeded to walk right past his group of friends (if you would call them that) and began to cross the bridge. "Hey, where are you going?" No-name called out. "Away," was the only word he got back. That was until David reached the end of the bridge and stopped, looking back over his shoulders. "Say, I never caught your name." No-name seemed a bit startled at the question before realizing that he had never told him his name. "Victor Harris." The smallest smile could be seen on David's face before he turned his head back.

"Temple. David Temple."

And then the man began walking again and didn't stop, off into the horizon until he was completely out of sight. He had no more reason to be on this island, and perhaps he'd be better off somewhere else. No goodbyes, no celebrations; he left Victor and the rest with the feeling that they'd never see him again, and they were probably right. But no matter what either party felt, it was probably for the better...


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Thank you for your patience. Your storyline has been reviewed.

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