Paths of Gold

[C H E Y E N N E]

ooc;; And here the roleplay begins.
Please try to keep things historically accurate. Not sure how? Ask (:

Starting Point:

Date: May 3rd, 1850; noon
Weather: Sweltering hot; humid by the river
Town Description: It's your basic Wild West town, and sort of based off of the town of Tombstone, at least by appearance. There is a forest a couple miles away, and a treeless river close by where the forty-niners/prospectors work, sifting the sands of the river bed in hopes of finding nuggets of gold.
There are three saloons, two hotels, a sheriff's office, a jail, multiple temporary shelters, and some more permanent homes--some fancy and some not. The basics. There are other small businesses and establishments, but I'll leave that to you guys.
There are approximately 1,000 people in Shaleman.

[Rogue of Night]

"Aye, another drink Clai?"
The black haired Umbra woman lifted her placid gaze, nodding once. "Just one more," she muttered, shifting uncomfortably on the stool at the bar. The saloon was unusually quiet today, which could mean one of two reasons; something had happened, or someone had happened.
"Here you are."
Clai, or more appropriately known as Syclaine, shifted her purple gaze to the bartender; Robin. She smiled a little before taking up her drink; pure, delightful whiskey. It was downed within minutes. She was known as one to hold her liquor.
"Any idea what's going on?" inquired the black-haired man, Robin, who was now wiping down the bar's surface.
Syclaine shook her head. "No. I was just asking myself the very same thing, though."
Robin seemed to frown with contemplation. "Perhaps a new bandito?"
The woman just shrugged, setting her mug on the counter. She pushed away, slipping off her stool with grace that was easily unheard of, and began softly toward the doorway, which only happened to be a set of swinging wooden things which shielded the middle of the doorframe.
"Where you off to now?" Robin called after her.
"I have some business to attend to," Syclaine replied cooly, slipping out into the open without another word.
The sun shone brightly, and the head was intense, just as always, but today, a new aura filled the air. She couldn't quite place it, but something was going to happen. Whether it would be good or bad, she couldn't be sure.

~~

The arrow whizzed through the air, plummeting until it became lodged in the flesh of a deer. The stunned animal shrieked as it attempted to run, but the piece lodged in its leg was slowing it down. It reached over to try and pick it out with its teeth.
"Not this time," rasped the voice of a young woman as she slipped out of the tree where she was perched. With stealthy, silent steps, she ran forward, upon the creature in no time. By this point, it had fallen, and she crouched over it, withdrawing a dagger made of animal bone. She stuck the sharpened weapon into the creature's throat, watching it writhe once more before lying still.
"We'll be feasting tonight," she announced with arrogant pride as she stood, lifting the deer up with her.

[C H E Y E N N E]

The sun could be a person’s most hated enemy or most trusted friend, depending on the outlook of the actual person. It could provide welcome warmth in a cold winter tundra, or death in a blazing desert gulch. Of course, for Gabriel Raphime, it proved to be a pleasant discomfort as he lay on the sparse patches of grass at the side of the church, which cast a cool aura of shade over him.
Eyelids closed, hiding light lavender irises, the youth looked no older than seventeen. That would change soon enough, however - Lucents didn't stop growing until they reached the physical appearance of someone in their twenties. If they so chose, they would grow older, of course, and those who weren't born Lucent would eventually die as well.
Stretching languidly, Gabriel opened one eye and turned slightly, arms still above his head and back slightly arched, to look over at the other figure who had accompanied him.
Zacharias Qellic was leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his tight suspenders. If the seventeen-year-old zombie could still derive pleasure from smoking, Gabriel knew a pipe would be sticking out of his mouth and he would be languidly exhaling.
As it stood, however, zombies needed no air, and thus perhaps a comparison to a statue was a better thing.
As if sensing his gaze, Zach turned slightly, his movements only slightly slower than that of a normal human. "You're staring. What is it this time?"
"I only happened to notice an unsightly spot above your neck, Zach. I think it's your head."
Zach gave his best imitation of a scowl. "You used that one last week, moron. Have you been hanging around that idiot vampire who runs the hotel?"
"'Course not," Gabriel said, shifting so he was flat on his back again and gazing up at the painfully blue sky.
After all, what else was there to do in a town such as this?

-x-

Hidden in the forest that lay a mile or three away from Shaleman lay the Nomlaki village. There couldn't have been more than two-hundred and fifty people, and no less than one hundred. It was a spacious enough village, with a smokehouse or two set up. Fish was drying from the racks, but as the village elders often preached, they were getting fewer.
The white man was winning.
"Kiche! Kiche!" Came an exuberant voice from the direction of one of the shelters as a girl of about twelve came racing out, her long black braids swinging as she launched herself into her non-blood brother's personal space.
"Kiche, the hunting party went out! Why did you not go?"
The response came in the form of an irritated frown as a man with short brown hair lightly stirred one of the fires.
"Oh, I see," the girl said. "Pampata says it isn't right, and she should mind her place if she wants to stay here. Buuuut I overheard Bear Claw telling Rushing Wolf that they didn't care so long as we ended up with enough food."
The girl sat down next to the man, Kiche, who was watching her so that she knew he was paying attention.
No one talked about it much, but one time, when Kiche had asked her mother, Pampata had said that Kiche had arrived in the village starved and exhausted. However, because of his hair they couldn't tell what he was, and would have let him die out of suspicion until she (Mem), then only four, had come up, embraced him, and exclaimed on how she could feel his ribs. Then, as children went, she was told she had demanded he be fed, and just like that the ice was broken enough.
Eight years later, well...

[Rogue of Night]

Syclaine poised herself beside a support beam, which upheld the roof shielding the saloon, more affectionately known as the Dusty Road - Robin was an odd one when it came to names. Her narrowed eyes were glaring directly at the church, before shifting to the dirt streets surrounding her. She was quite impartial to the faith which seemed to plague her current place of residence, but until the times shifted and she could return home to be with the man she loved, her existence was to be spent here, in the searing heat belonging to Shaleman.
Her huff of a sigh drew some attention, not as much as her chosen attire however, though most knew not to mess with her. She was avoided like a viral disease. As soon as she arrived all those years ago, no one but Robin spoke to her; they all thought she was a witch or some other dark entity. Which, that notion was partially true, but a witch she could never be.
"What are you thinking?"
She shifted her powdered gaze to the man who came up beside her; obviously Robin did not care much for tending to his own establishment at this moment.
Robin was most probably her closest ally and companion. They had become friends almost immediately. His reasoning? No one else liked her, so he thought it would be in both their best interests if they were acquaintances. She effortlessly rendered him unconscious soon thereafter, figuring he was just speaking to her in attempts to woo her. She found herself pleasantly mistaken when he apologized formidably. They had been companions ever since.
"I am thinking nothing, and everything."
"You speak in riddles again," Robin said smoothly.
Syclaine just sighed, her hostile gaze switching to the church yet again. And yet, she said not a word as her gaze picked up two characters lounging about in the steeple's yard.

~~

She returned to the small village, dragging the large brown beast behind her. Light hair was pushed behind her ear, while her eyes flickered from black to gray. Her surveying gaze found what she was looking for, and without a word, she moved toward the small hut, dropping her kill at the foot. A few cries of excitement greeted her, but she was not interested in being praised for killing the creature; she didn't care much for it.
With smooth steps, she came to lean against a tree, resting her crossbow - which she had made herself from the bark of a sacred tree she had found in the forest - against her leg while she contemplated her next move. She didn't know what she'd do, or when she'd do it, but she knew that when the time came, she'd be completely acknowledged with it.
Her attention shifted to the few near the fire, and in some regard, she strained her ears to listen to their conversation. There wasn't much left for her to do.

[C H E Y E N N E]

Zach would have raised his eyebrows as he saw the sudden frown crease Gabriel's face as the Lucent once again forced his eyes open, but since such an action was unneeded (he only did it when Gabriel was able to witness the full impact of the Look), he refrained from doing anything.
When Gabriel sat up, however, rubbing his head lightly, Zach permitted himself to ask: "And the problem now is...?"
"An Umbra."
"Ah."
"It's even worse than having all these vampires around," Gabriel groused.
"But they don't generally come near the church, and Father Beckett doesn't like them much, though it's for an entirely different reason." The zombie stretched listlessly and pointlessly, as such an action benefited him not, slowly tilting his head to look at the lavender-eyed Lucent on the ground.
Gabriel hadn't replied in favour of standing up, stretching his shoulder blades.

-x-

Officially Kyp Russell on the English/Spanish papers (and sometime entirely different i the French listings, but that was in another country and therefore irrelevant), Kiche had slid into the Nomlaki village silently and effectively. Some say he even manipulated things a bit, but not knowing the language at the time, that theory was discarded.
Shame, because it was the closest thing to the truth.
"Think they'll go away, Kiche?" Mem asked him after a few moments of silence, though she hardly needed an answer. The way her the man's faced closed up and darkened was enough for her.
"Think she'll go away?"
Still no answer.
"Yeah, that's what mom said, too."

[Rogue of Night]

"The church?" Robin muttered with confusion. "What's so special about it this time? You never go up there."
Syclaine turned away from the place, moving back into the saloon smoothly. Robin followed at her heels like her own personal lackey.
"There is no reason why I was looking at it," she quipped guardedly as she sat back on her stool. She motioned to her glass, which Robin quickly refilled with whiskey. Syclaine began to swirl it around with her finger, her eyes everso darkening.
"What is on your mind this time? Eager about this evening?"
Syclaine lifted her brooding gaze, curious as to the man's words.
"The festival, remember?" She seemed to have no recollection. Robin sighed. "You were going to cause havoc, and something to do with seeing the man you love."
The umbra nodded slowly. "Right...because that can really happen." She rolled her eyes, taking a swig of her liquor. "You get the oddest thoughts in that thick skull of yours, Robin."
The bartender rolled his eyes. "Just finish your drink already, and get lost."
Syclaine smirked, chuckling a little as she glanced toward the saloon entrance, half expecting the Lucent and his companion to walk in. She hoped they didn't. That would mean she'd have to leave. She exhaled. Oh well.

~~

Who was this she they kept talking about? She was frowning deeply while she eavesdropped, wanting so badly to know. It was in her nature to be curious; call it, the curiosity which killed the cat.
Her fingers tapped against her arms as she folded them across her body, and her eyes fell closed while she continued to pry.
"Whoa! Swift Hawk, did you catch that?"
The woman opened her eyes once again, eyeing the small child below her. She hesitated before nodding.
"Whoa! It's huge!"
Swift Hawk rolled her eyes. "No bigger than what the others will catch."
"But you caught it by yourself!"
"So could anyone," Swift Hawk reminded with no gentleness in her voice.
The child pouted, and turned to go back to the smokehouse. Swift Hawk just watched her dilly-dally off, shaking her head. The sooner she was out of here, the better.

[C H E Y E N N E]

ooc;; I have to go now, so I'll reply in this post tomorrow. Night!

[Rogue of Night]

ooc;; Alrighty. Night Yami! -hugs-

[C H E Y E N N E]

"Actually, come to think of it, Father Beckett doesn't like me much, either." Zacharias' eyes were still dead, but Gabriel knew they would have sparked with satisfaction if it were still possible.
He liked to think of Zach as frozen as opposed to dead. For while Gabe himself was by no means human, and therefore not technically alive, per se, as he was Immortal and... it was complicated. Still, Zach was dead - the final dead, almost. He had talked to the teen, and he said he didn't know what had happened - what had brought him back. Zach said he had been in a battle when he was stabbed brutally in the side... or slightly above. He said his lung was pierced, but since he was dead now he didn't need to breath.
The zombie said he only remembered great pain, then nothing, then waking up to feel nothing again. No feeling in his body, where he wound still was (he could see it through the gaping hole in his skirt), or anything. He had stood up then, removing the war spear from his side to the horror of the others, and shambled away.
Gabe had seen Zach without his shirt one. Zombies didn't heal, so the black-haired undead had tightly bandaged his chest to prevent anyone from seeing. To those who managed to catch a glimpse he merely said he broke a few ribs, or something that would require the wrappings.
Because of the way he died, Zach was a bit slower, but he still managed to function well enough to give the impression of a living being upon first glance.
Gabe sat back down, reaching out to pull a lone weed from the dusty, grass-patched ground. Zach slowly turned his head towards him, blinking only because he forced himself to.
"How is your group?"
"My what?"
Zach grimaced and moved his hands in a small flapping motion. "Your group. The others like you."
"Oh." Gabe shifted slightly, frowning. "Fine. Liam's settling into his role, and the Realms are quiet, I guess. I have to take Ophion's word for it."
Zach would have snorted, but he settled for a belittling look instead. Gabe chuckled, knowing exactly what the zombie thought of both Liam and Ophion.

-x-

Mem suddenly stood up, tugging lightly on Kiche's arm. "Come on. Men in this village are supposed to help around here," she said with a grin. "I still can't believe you opted to stay behind, you know." Mem frowned as she said that. "This is why..."
"This is why we're dying," Kiche said, blinking as he stood. "I know. When I lived back in Canada, the was a nearby band of Natives called the Iroquois. They were fierce warriors, much like my own tribe, and they fought for many years against the French settlers in Fort Quebec." Kiche shrugged then. "They lost eventually, though not without a fight. That's what we should be doing, not - not letting them stay here and slowly destroy us from the inside."
Mem blinked. "Come on, Kiche."

[Rogue of Night]

Tenphyss blinked expressionless red eyes as she watched the exchange between the Umbra and the two figures on the hill. She was sitting atop a roof with mild boredom, though her thoughts remained fixated on the untimely arrival of her death. How she had managed to come back afterwards, was an entirely different phenomenon on its own. How did she come to deserve to live on as immortal, while her kin, the others whom had died from the same disease, were gone from existence? That was something she would never even begin to understand.

--

Swift Hawk crossed the village to her own place of dwelling, depositing her hunting gear, though her crossbow remained everclose.
She had the strangest of desires to fly, but to do so, would require leaving yet again where she would be away from any other. It was to her best advantage that none knew she was Umbra; Syclaine, her dearest and closest friend, was the only other who knew of her true colours. But she most probably told Robin, the human Syclaine had befriended upon arrival. Swift Hawk couldn't help but think how unimpressed Clai's lover would be, should he find out of her cavorting about in town.
She sat herself down in the dirt, withdrawing a dagger from a pouch at her side while simultaneously lifting a stray branch, which she wasted no time in her attempts to carve.

[C H E Y E N N E]

Gabe stood up this time, for once looking as if he wasn't going to reverse that action, and moved over to Zach. "Come on, my undead friend - we're going cavorting!"
Zach deadpanned. "I can see you in almost two-hundred years, Gabe. You're going to be an ass."
Gabe frowned, but he shrugged, grin still in place. "Whatever," the blonde said, shaking his short, wheat-gold hair.
The black-haired zombie turned and lightly peered around the side of the church, like a covert agent. "We going, then?"

[Rogue of Night]

Tenphyss sighed as she ran clammy fingers through her dark brown hair, which surprisingly had survived the disease. The rest of her family had lost it all, but she seemed to hold favour in someone's eyes.
She stood, climbing down the roof without effort, before crossing the road and heading into the saloon.
She took notice of the pale-skinned, dark-haired woman there; Syclaine was the woman's name, if she recalled correctly. And the bartender was Robin, who turned to look at her with annoyance.
"Tenphyss, how many times must I tell you, you're not allowed in here!"
Tenphyss cast him an unassuming gaze before situating herself at a table near the window. She never drank anything, just sat and observed. She was different.

[C H E Y E N N E]

ooc;; Sorry for the poof.

bic;; Across from the saloon, Gabe stopped. "The Umbra's in there - I can't go in!" He told Zach, would would have scowled under living conditions.
"And why the hell not?"
"Don't say that!" Gabe hissed. "It's... it's a bad place!"
"Hell is what I live. Why not, then?"
"Because she's an Umbra," came the firm reply. "Lucents don't associate with their lot."
He knew Zach wouldn't say anymore. Gabe was the only Lucent or Umbra he liked, after all, and to speak now would mean defending the black-winged demons. This, for Zach, was a strict no.
"I'll go, then," Zach said, shrugging. "Ta?" He then moved forward, trying to force his movements to look normal instead of slower and slightly jerky. Since he and Gabe had been practicing, it was easier than it normally was, and the black-haired undead was in the building before he knew it.

[Rogue of Night]

Robin nodded once to Zach, while Syclaine ignored him completely.
"What can I get for you?" Robin inquired pleasantly.
"Robin, I'm going to go," Syclaine announced as she finished her whiskey. She knew the Lucent was just outside, and although she would've liked nothing more than to let him remain there while his friend was inside, she knew she would be condemned for it.
Robin waved once to her. "See you around then, Clai."
Syclaine slipped off her stool, moving fluidly toward the doorway. Once outside on the veranda, she glared at the Lucent, before lifting her chin and making her way down the road.

Tenphyss watched Zach a moment before returning her gaze out the window. She hadn't yet spoken to any of her kind, so she had no desire or will to now.

[C H E Y E N N E]

Gabe glared back, lavender eyes narrowing as he tilted his chin up slightly. "You're a liability to our species - both of ares. You parade around like a futuristic whore. I hope your offspring don't do the same, though I could probably predict what it would be like."

Zach looked up at the bartender, black hair falling in his eyes a little. "Something light for my friend. For me it doesn't matter. See how much it takes of knock me out."