2020-04-19 - Saddle Up

One moment, two people are just going about their day, or falling asleep, or perhaps deep asleep. The next moment, the air is dry and warm. There is nose - hoofbeats, chatter, a churchbell. And the smell. Leather, manure, human stink.

Tor was taking the garbage out. One minute he's chucking a bag into a dumpster behind Pizza Corner, the next, he's stumbling forward through an iconic set of swinging doors into the very picture of an Old West saloon. He stumbles, straightens himself, then turns and steps into a big goon who shoves him back and glowers - but fortunately, that's the end of it for the moment.

The saloon is a hive of activity. A cluster of men play cards in the corner. Others drink. A man plays piano. Saloon girls in colourful outfits lean over balconies. And Tor? He looks like he fits right in. He's wearing leather pants, a tea-coloured suit, a waistcoat with faded and fraying embroidery, a cowboy hat and boots, a long duster that looks like it's seen better days. His hair's the same - scraggly and past his jaw. The heavy weight of a pistol rests against his hip and a shotgun strapped to his back.

"Yee haw," he mutters.

Justin had been sitting at his desk, working on some bit of code or another, puzzling out another bug that he'd just begun to fully unravel. There'd been a cold cup of coffee sitting next to him on the desk and Caleb had been asleep near his feet, dreaming doggie dreams.

Then, he was sitting at a table in a saloon, with a half-empty pint of beer in front of him, and cards in his hand, while others at the table were looking at him, expectantly.

"Waitin' on you," one of the other men at the table said to him, to remind him that it was his turn.

Justin looked at the cards in his hand, up and around the room, and then back to those men seated across from him before his gaze dropped to the table. He pushed his bet into the center of the table after another moment, and the game continued on. It gave him another few moments to sort out his situation.

The hand ends, and he collects his winnings, excusing himself from the table, but not before taking a deep swallow from the beer to fortify himself.

"Deputy! Hey, Deputy." Justin would be forgiven for not realizing he's the one being addressed. A portly older gent with an impressive moustache shoulders through the crowd towards Justin. "Deputy, Sheriff wants to talk to you over to the office." And if he checks his person, he'll find, yes, there's a star shaped badge pinned to his lapel.

Meanwhile, Tor is sidling up to the bar, hefting up his belt and taking a long look at one of the saloon girls as she passes. He's just about to order a drink, when the same mustacioed gentleman barks, "Lockhart! Sheriff wants to see you too, boy. You're still working off that debt don't forget."

Tor looks over, and then mutters, "How could I forget?" After all, how could he forget something he can't remember in the first place? He looks past the man with the moustache to Justin, eyebrows raising. "Howdy, pardner."

Justin doesn't seem to recognize that he's the one being spoken to until he does glance down and notice the star. He reaches up to scratch the back of his neck a little bit and there's a puzzled furrow to his brow, but then a little bit of acceptance. It's a Dream. And he's been given a role. He decides to go ahead and play it, blowing out a breath and saying, "Alright. I'm on my way over."

Then his gaze follows Moustache's look toward Tor and he studies the man at the bar, looking him over to see if it's someone he recognizes, or just another construct of the Dream. Not recognizing him, he gives a nod of his head and says, "Evenin'." With a nod of his head, he turns and heads out the doors, hoping that the Sheriff's station will be obvious once he gets out onto the street, because he has no idea where he's going.

It's not a big town, but there is a lot of activity. The streets are full of people moving back and forth, on foot, on horseback or in a coach. The Sheriff's station is helpfully marked and just kitty-corner to the saloon.

Tor follows out behind, falling into step beside Justin. "I know you. Richy-rich programmer, right?" The word 'programmer' should help Justin sort out whether or not he's a construct of the Dream or a real person. He hops over a pile of manure and makes a face.

There's a faint look of relief that crosses Justin's face when he sees that the Sheriff station is so close to the saloon, because of course it is. Though it's Tor's comment that draws his attention, and he looks a little bit surprised, both because Tor isn't a construct of the Dream, or at least isn't likely one, and because he recognizes him -- not that being recognized isn't something that he's used to -- but most folks in Gray Harbor don't seem to mention it even if they do.

"Oh, uh.. yeah. Justin Cooper. Hi. And you are?" he asks Tor, studying him a little more closely now that they are out of the saloon and standing on the wooden planks in front of the door, though not so close that people can't get by them to come and go without them having to move.

"Tor Lockhart." Which is a name that would only be familiar if one pays attention to the disreputible types with a long, long history in Gray Harbor. Or those who might remember an unusual name from their Uber driver. "So it looks like we get to play cowboy, huh? Could be worse." Whether Justin follows or not, he starts to cross the street towards the Sheriff's office.

Justin has been coming to Gray Harbor every summer for most of his life, so he does know many of the names in town, but that is one that he doesn't know well enough to register as anything more than vaguely familiar. "Guess so," he answers, regarding them getting to play cowboy. "Definitely could be worse." And he follows along, seeming content to play along with the role handed to him for the time being. He follows Tor on into the Sheriff's office and looks around, seeking out someone with a Sheriff's star, hoping it's just hat easy. "You wanted to see me," he says when he locates the man in question.

It is in fact, the woman in question. She's tall and strong, with a shock of white hair and a scar along one side of her throat from where it looks like someone tried to slit it. She looks to be mid-40s, but someone who has lived a hard 40. "Cooper. Good. And I see Jonsey wrangled up Lockhart, too. Guess that's what happens when there's only two drinking joints in town. Mickey Delaney and his pricks have been seen just outside town in Sweetwater Gulch. I want you two to bring 'em in. I know you used to run with Delaney," she nods towards Tor, "Which is why I'm calling in the marker you owe me for not throwing your ass in prison or putting a noose around your neck."

Tor just stands there, hands on his belt all cowboy-like. He glances sidelong to Justin and grins wryly. "Looks like I've been typecast," he murmurs under his breath, and then to the Sheriff, he goes, "Yes ma'am." Never mind he actually doesn't know anything about said gang.

There's a bit of a smile when Justin sees the Sheriff. Well, it's nice to see that not everything is a stereotype in this Western town. But there isn't too long to appreciate that, before the business at hand is being discussed. He gives a nod of his head and a tip up of his hat, before glancing over at Tor. He can't help the faintest twitch of a grin in return before he says to the Sheriff, "Yes ma'am." He tips his hat to her, and then he is heading for the door. Does he have any idea where Sweetwater Gulch is or who Mickey Delaney is? Nope, not a clue, but he figures that'll be a problem to solve once they're outside again.

"So, how much experience you have with these things?" Justin asks, glancing over Tor once they're outside. "Because mine's been.. kind of limited, and I'm not really sure whether we're supposed to play along, or if we can just ride on out of town and keep going.. because I don't know about you, but I'm definitely not law enforcement trained."

"It doesn't seem to matter. This place tends to give you what you need to do the thing. Unless it's trying to fuck with you, in which case you're totally screwed." Tor isn't trying to walk like a cowboy, but the heavy belt and layers of leather seem to be making him do it.

And then there's Jonesy, walking up leading a pair of horses - a piebald and a bay, both quarter horses. The bay has a newer-looking saddle and the horse is cleaner, while the piebald looks like she's got a few miles on her and has a well-loved saddle. Jonesey passes the reins of the bay to Justin. "Here you are, gents. Thought I'd expedite things a bit. Safe journey east."

Tor takes the reins of the piebald, then lifts his brows. "So we're going east." And the Dream has also provided them with the ability to ride a horse, because both are able to mount like they've spent their lives in the saddle.

"I suppose you're right," Justin says with a faint smile as he sees Jonesy approaching with the horses. He shakes his head just a little bit, but takes the reigns of the Bay and pats its neck and nose in greeting. "Alright, I guess you're taking me east, huh? Let's go see what there is to see, shall we?" He pulls himself up into the saddle. Justin's ridden horses a few times, and so he's not entirely unfamiliar with it, but he definitely has more skill than he would normally in the Dream.

Turning toward the east, he lifts a hand in a silent farewell to Jonesy before the horse heads off at a walk out of town. He's in no particular hurry, at least not for the moment. They're going to get where they're going eventually, it seems. "I ended up underwater once," he tells Tor. "We could breathe underwater, though. It was kind of surreal, but we helped return some statues to a mermaid, and were able to ride sea creatures." He tips his hat down to shade his eyes a little bit as they ride.

"If it wasn't for the mortal danger, it'd be kinda fun, right?" says Tor. He sort of marvels at the fact that the horse feels as natural as driving a car does in the waking world. "D'ya know how to shoot a gun? I mean, like, for real? The Dream'll probably provide for that when we get into a firefight." Because it's not really an 'if' in this scenario.

Once they're out of town, things get a lot quieter quite quickly. The path they're taking is not one of the main routes. It leads along a riverbed, towards the mountains. Tor squints up at them. "Kinda crazy that none of this is real, huh? Or I mean, it can kill you, so maybe it is real? Or it doesn't matter? Shit, I don't know."

Justin can't help but laugh a little bit at that and says, "Yeah the whole, I could actually get shot and die out here trying to capture some banditos that I don't actually have any stake in capturing, portion of the program is kind of a damper on the whole -- hey I get to ride around on a horse bit." He lets out a little bit of a sigh, but it is kind of cool, riding out of town and along the trail to the east, and he finds himself enjoying it despite the impending likelihood of a firefight. "Yeah," he says after a moment or two. "I've got some firearms training, and I know how to shoot a hunting rifle. Used to go shooting with Easton from time to time." He doesn't know if Tor knows Easton or not, but most people have been to Two if by Sea at some point or another.

"It's as real as anything else while we're here," he says, "At least, that's what I've been told. We can actually legitimately die out here, and I'd really rather not, if I can avoid it."

"Yeah, I mean. I don't want to think about what would happen if you died in a Dream. Would you just get stuck here? In this wild west land? Or somewhere much worse?" Easy to think of places worse than where they're at right now. Away from the noise and the smell of the town, it's actually pretty stunning. Nothing but the soft light on the rugged landscape and the sound of the horses beneath them. Tor goes quiet for a moment as he rides easily up the trail. "So uh. Any ideas for strategy? I feel like riding in to a bandito camp, guns blazing with two of us would be a bad idea."

"No idea," Justin says as he considers it, one hand resting on the pommel of the saddle in front of of him, the other lightly holding the reins against his thigh as the horse ambles on, apparently knowing where they are going without needing any guidance from him, and that seems just fine with him. "I guess that depends on what you believe happens after death."

He considers the question regarding strategy and says, "Well, I was thinking we probably want to come around and see if we can find a rise over wherever they are so we can scout out how many there are, if they've got a patrol going, and how often and where. Probably want to wait until some of them are out of camp depending on how many there are. The fewer we need to take on at once, the better. May want to see if we can ambush a couple and just tie them up first. I'm all for reducing the number of guys we need to take head on."

"Hah," Tor barks laughter. "All that and you've never fired a gun off a shooting range before? Shee-yit." The trail gets a bit more rugged but the horses are surefooted and calm. "Uh so...weird. This is starting to look familiar to me. There's a riverbed just around this bend. That's where the camp is. There'll be a lookout posted at the edge of the bend. It's pretty well-protected." A beat, then, his nose wrinkles. "I...get a feeling that I may be able to talk myself in? Maybe? Like, they know me so they might not shoot on sight?" There's a lot of question marks in that.

"I'm guessing that uh, some of that is from watching movies, and some of it from the Deputy brain," Justin admits with a bit of a helpless shrug of his shoulders. He seems content to follow Tor's lead as they make their way closer toward the encampment. One brow arches as the guy starts to seem more familiar with the area. "Oh, well, if you can just talk your way in, that's a whole lot easier. Let's go with that. Though that doesn't really reduce the number of people we need to deal with once we're in. And I probably shouldn't be with you, if we go that route.." Because he's very obviously the Deputy, he recalls, a moment or two later.

Tor stops his horse just ahead of where they'll have to make a decision. The horse steps in place and Tor frowns up ahead. "We're really after the gang leader. If I can get Delaney to come out, then we just need to...hog-tie him or something and then high tail it out of here. We're close enough to town that they won't risk charging in guns blazing. Or..." he shrugs. "...you could just try and sharpshoot Delaney from up on the ridge just beyond the bend. The Sheriff didn't say we needed to bring 'em in alive. Just...in."

Justin's horse comes to a stop next to Tor's and he glances over at him, studying him and looking thoughtful as he lays out the possible plans. "Why don't you try to get him to come out. We can try just subduing him. I don't really want to kill anyone unless there's no choice." Even in a Dream, Justin is not the sort who would just shoot somebody, even if that's the part that he's been given to play.

"Dude, he's a Dream construct. I'd rather shoot a make-believe person than get my own ass shot. Cause I'm real." Tor shifts his horse around so he can look the other man in the eye. "So I'm not goin' in there, prettyboy, unless you got my back and you'll headshot this motherfucker if I get into trouble." Apparently this particular Dream has a Deadwood filter, because there's no shift in the way he talks.

"You were the one who suggested riding in there," Justin points out to Tor, "Not me." But then he sighs, "I'm not going to just let someone shoot you, Tor. I said I'd rather not kill someone unless there's no choice. There's a difference." Apparently, someone trying to kill Tor is that difference. He then raises a brow and waits to see what Tor wants to do next.

Tor sighs and then kicks at the sides of his horse. "Whatever, man. If I die in this place, I'm fucking haunting your ass." And then the delinquent is riding into the bandito camp.

Then Justin is subjected to a good twentyish minutes or so of tense silence. He'll be able to find a spot up on the ridge to get a view of the protected curve of the riverbank that leads to the campsite. But it is well-protected. Tor's horse is tied up just beyond and there's a man with a rifle guarding the bend. Eventually though, figures appear from around said bend. It's Tor, followed by an unusually tall man with long scraggly hair. Deputy Brain tells him this is Delaney. He's flanked by two of his men. They're talking, and Tor makes towards his horse like he's going to gather something from his saddlebags.

Justin takes up his position on the ridge and he makes to wait. He has his rifle, and it is set up and propped so that he can sight the area around the bend, where Tor's horse is tied up, and so he can keep an eye out for those who might come and go from the area. Twenty minutes is a long time when one is just sitting and waiting, but he hasn't heard any gunshots, so he presumes that Tor's not dead. When he sees him come walking back out, he takes sights on Delaney, keeping a close eye on what they do next.

They're too far away to hear anything, but it's clear that Tor is trying to use his persuasive skills to calm the situation and get Delaney further away from his men. But it seems that he's not doing such a good job. Delaney pulls his pistol on Tor, whose hands go up. The two men who came out with Delaney draw their weapons as well.

As soon as Delaney pulls his pistol on Tor, there's a shot that rings out from the ridge, and Delaney takes a hit from the Deputy's rifle. He's readying another shot even as he mutters under his breath, "Guess that silver-tongue didn't quite work out for you." He takes aim for one of the other men that Delaney had with him, all the while aware that the guy guarding the bend definitely heard that shot.

Tor may not have won the day with a silver tongue, but he's got fast hands in or out of the Dream. The firearm is in his hand in a blur, and he's firing off a shot at someone out of Justin's line of sight. The good thing about the bend is that there's a bottleneck that Justin can look out for and pick off the men as they come around.

Delaney staggers and goes for his weapon, levelling it at Tor. He manages to dodge behind a rock, bullets ricocheting.

A shot skips off the rock just in front of Justin from a man using the bend as cover.

The shot that pings off the rock in front of him gives away the shooter's position, however, and Justin changes targets, aiming for just a hint of a flicker of movement from the shooter in the bend and takes aim. He fires off a shot and hits, a muffled curse that he can't hear at that distance, but that Tor likely can, indicates that the shooter'd been hit. Then Justin looks around again for Delaney, the rock giving the man pretty good cover, but with Tor on one side and Justin on the other, he's somewhat sandwiched between them. It's not the ideal place to be.

"My man in the hills has eyes on you, Delaney," shouts Tor, clearly meaning to be loud enough to carry up to Justin's position. "And he'll take the heads off any of your men who come around that corner. Come with us. Only way you have to keep your head."

"Fuck you, Lockhart! They just gonna hang me if I go back to town. And if I'm goin' down, I'm takin' you with me!"

"And the rest of your gang too? That what you want? There'll be a posse heading back this way if you and me both end up in the ground. You come back with me and they have time to high tail it out of here before the Sheriff has a chance to get the men together."

The men around the corner listen in, clearly waiting tohear their boss' response.

Delaney gets up, bleeding from the wound, weapon in his hand. He emerges, one hand up in the air, holding his pistol. He drops it and walks towards Tor. But then there's a flash that Justin can see as the hand over his wound starts to go for a hidden pistol.

As soon as the hand starts to go for the hidden pistol, Justin takes another shot at Delaney, since he's out from behind the rock, and this one hits as well. He tries to keep an eye out for movement down below, anyone else coming out from behind cover, but for the moment, his focus seems to be on keeping Tor from getting shot. He says nothing in reply, not wanting to give away his position any more than he already does each time he takes a shot.

Thwok. Delaney goes down in a hail of blood and drops to the ground. The man around the corner comes out around and levels his weapon at Tor. Tor dodges behind a stump of a tree, then slides his rifle off his back and returns fire. The man goes down in another mess of blood and gore. There's more shouting around the corner, but it's telling that the other gang members don't come rushing around the bend.

"Delaney's dead!" calls out Tor. Or at least...he's badly injured. "We didn't come for the rest of you. You can head clear up the river. Even if the Sheriff does decide to follow you, you're gonna have a hell of a head start."

There's a long pause, then a sharp, short whistle. Unless it's a ruse, that seems like an agreement of terms.

Justin watches from the rise as Delaney goes down and keeps an eye on him, just to make sure that he's staying down and not going for that pistol again. He's aware of Tor firing on the other guy and that guy going down, but he's keeping his eye on the gang leader. When it doesn't seem that he's getting up or taking another shot, Justin begins to move from the rise, backing up away from the edge before standing so that he's not just a big old target. Then he makes his way back to his horse and begins the descent, making a careful and slow approach up the road back to where Tor and Delaney are.

But it doesn't appear that the guard in the bend is there anymore, likely having fled with the others as soon as that sharp whistle sounded. Once he sees Delaney, he approaches and hops down off his horse, walking over to the man to see if he's still breathing or if he's gone. He looks over in Tor's direction and asks, "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. Think so. Yeah." There's a lot of gore. This Dream is definitely not a sanitized Hollywood western. Tor has blood spatter on him, and a skid across his arm that might be a graze from a ricocheting bullet. Hard to tell. He nudges Delaney with his boot, but the man isn't moving. "So uh. Hey. We didn't die. Hooraaay." He holds a hand up for a high-five, though it's a little bit of lacklustre enthusiasm.

Justin looks at Delaney somewhat grimly, studying the man's body where it lays on the ground and he shakes his head just a bit. Then he looks over at Tor's arm and studies it, assessing the damage, but it looks to be minor and so he lets out a slow breath, some of the adrenaline of the situation gradually wearing off. The high five gets a faint half-smile and he doesn't leave Tor hanging, slapping his palm just a bit and then nodding toward the horses. "Guess we should get him back to town." He then says, "Told you I wouldn't let you die."

"Yes, I'm glad you were willing to kill the pretend people for a real person. Now help me get him up on my horse, will ya?" Tor leans over to heft up Delaney and what's left of his skull. Fortunately, the Dream isn't going to make them ride all the way back to town with an oozing corpse, because the world goes hazy, then they find themselves back where they were - with the addition of some dirt, and in Tor's case, blood.

Tor sighs heavily, finishes chucking the garbage into the dumpster, then heads towards his own non-horsey mount. Though he does drive a Mustang.

Justin rolls his eyes. "Jesus, you know what I meant," he mutters as he climbs back up onto his own horse and they begin to ride back to town..

Only for him to find himself still seated at his desk, though now with a fine layer of dust on his clothing and the scent of the rifle and the trail still on him. Caleb whines a little in his sleep and rolls over, and Justin says "Hope you're having less weird dreams than I am, boy." He gives the dog a scritch, and then shuts everything down for the night. Time for a shower and some actual sleep.