2017-03-01: An Honest Mistake

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<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.

Adlehyde's town center was it usual bustle of wagon-based commerce and trade, the comings and goings of drifters, merchants, and criminals alike forming a gaggled backdrop to what otherwise struck Captain Kahm Yugh as a rude blotch of land dweller society on the map. Fresh leather boots donned a new coating of dust as the man walked with a slightly rushed pace through the buzzing crowd.

He was not dressed in uniform, but had donned local color in order to avoid stirring up too much trouble with the current fair going on-best not to play Gebler's hand so soon. A black cowboy hat crowned his head with a vest, belt, and pants to match. His sidearm hung loose in a more conventional holster, sword held a bit less conventionally at his other side. The part wasn't quite a natural fit: Everything was too new, too clean. While he may not obviously be a gebler officer in disguise, he certainly looked like a city slicker who was just trying this drifter thing out for the weekend.

Nonetheless he pressed on, scanning the crowd for name and whispers as he went. He tilted down the brim of his hit to a whisper a word to the woman by his side, "Remember, don't use any ranks here. We don't know how may be listening." The purpose of this mission was simply to scout the city out, considering the trail of their target had lead here.

If they happened to find him though...well, opportunity was the mother of fortune. 

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

The woman Kahm whispers to nods her head.

Her coiffed head.

For Elhaym van Houten has also been issued local costume color. In her case it is a vivid red satin-ish dress with black laced ruffled hems and spaghetti straps at the shoulders. It has felt strange, and slightly unnatural, to not be wearing gloves while out and about on the surface - though the red satin fingerless bridal-gauntletty things kind of feel like gloves. Maybe. A white bonnet clashes slightly with everything, especially as all of her red hair has been stuffed, perilously, into a mesh wrap that is approximately egg-shaped behind her neck.

"... Understood," she answers Kahm.

She is also wearing two-inch platform boots which are giving her a slightly better perspective on the crowds. The dress is long enough that this isn't immediately apparent.

On some level, Elly feels as if she can /directly perceive/ tiny melanomas forming on the parts of her skin being touched by the harsh rays of the sun. This is probably from the dust. 

<Pose Tracker> Fei Fong Wong has posed.

Fei Fong Wong made some gella on a dig recently which, in conjunction with a Baskar citizen being a pretty cool dude, has made it so he hasn't starved in the streets. Where is Weltall? Well you might want to ask Doc about that. Fei doesn't know where he is at the moment, anyway--and has been assuming the Doc has just chosen to take it far away from civilization as they talked about.

Orrrrr he could just be waiting until Fei is in too much trouble to NOT jump into a gear. There are many solutions and life has many tumultous turns available to throw at it. Like wolves that bare their fangs at Feis.

For now though he's standing around in the Adelyhde market. He has taken to doing portraits for people and then selling it to them for meager amounts of gil.

He is not disguised at all.

"15 gella for a sketch! 30 for colored paints!" He has set up some example pictures out, including one of what looks like a beaten up fox toy and an adorable 'totally not a kiddo' kid 'totally not named Sephilia'. He doesn't seem to be having much luck today.

Actually he's also looking somewhat bruised up from failing to make jumps and crashing into walls too. Still healing. His plan is to collapse into anonymity, live day to day, and never look at a Gear again!

He's confident in this plan. 

<Pose Tracker> Kent Hauch has posed.

Actual local color is also accompanying the Gebler soldiers - a tall, muscular man in fine ash grey clothes - vest, slacks, and long coat - with a bolo tie, white shirt, and ornate leather boots reaching halfway up his calves. It's a remarkably expensive outfit for such a rough looking man.

Kent Hauch briefly removes his low top hat to swab at his bald head with a handkerchief from his vest pocket. He shifts the large, heavy-looking pack on his back.

Well, technically Kent isn't really local color, but wouldn't all [Lambs] know about [Lamb] places?

Behind the two of them, his eye level easily above Kahm's eye level, he reaches out and bumps the man's shoulder with one fist, grinning harshly. "Well, 'at won't be hard now, will it, mate?" He's looking more at the buildings around them than the people, sucking his teeth. A lot of stone buildings here - must be a fairly rich area. Kent hates stone buildings. 

<Pose Tracker> Gasback has posed.

Where travelers and Drifters roam, there must always be bars.

Where there are bars, there must always be old men, grizzled old men. One of them is almost always missing a eye.

One such, cyclopean fellow od advanced age is sitting on a patio area across the street from Fei's sad, little attempt at making a dishonest living. A ratty, long coat and a battered, hat. He could be any old salt. Any of them! Not notorious at all.

Bandages our poultices can be seen beneath the coat. A shirt should hide these... but the old bastard doesn't seem to care too much for shirts and or the use of their buttons. Scrapes, bruises. In a fit of self-medication, he works away at a tall bottle placed infront of him on a table, pouring measures into a glass and then draining it in time. Beside him rests a heft rucksack. 

<Pose Tracker> Nicholas D. Wolfwood has posed.

Nicholas D. Wolfwood is also in the Adelyhde market, standing on an old crate. "Yes, my friends, the lord's mercy can be yours for just a couple of coin. Confess and find salvation and ease of mind and suffering!" The preacher proclaims from his perch, smiling behind a pair of sunglasses. The man slouches slightly, dressed in a dusty suit that seems to have toughed it out through the heat and harsh terrain. Behind him is an innocent cross shaped bundle, covered in canvas and belts.

Wolfwood immediately spots the people who just entered the square dressed in suspiciously new attire. If nothing else, these suspicious bozos had money so that's why Wolfwood suddenly raises his voice and gestures to Kahn. "YOU, SIR! Yes, you! Come over here and let me hear what troubles you! Let the lord ease your troubles and bring you the good news." He is pouring on the preaching a little thing but that was how you got your money. "Don't be shy! I can tell you are new in town and in need of some advice from the good book." 

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

EARLIER

Spying a wanted poster of a certain dark-haired individual for the second or third time, Gwen leans in for a closer look at the sketch. "... Man, I was *way* off." It's too bad things such as dedicated color printing is still a ways off- lithographs and woodblocks can certainly bridge the gap, but who is going to pay for presumably thousands of wanted posters that need at least four printing stages? "Well, if that guy bought me a drink, he must not've taken it *too* personally..."

Though maybe, if it wasn't a sketch, maybe it'd stick in her head longer.

NOW

Gwen, herself, does not have dark hair. Her hair is a faded auburn red, a color nearly matching the freckles that dot her cheeks. It's the sort of hair that tells a tale of keeping your skin out of the sun for long periods of time. Covering up may mean not feeling the breeze, but, well... she has other reasons for not revealing much more than her face. With a wide-brimmed hat over her head to block out the sun, Gwen provides another sort of local color.

Who has dark hair? Why, this guy, over here, selling sketches. He does look similar to that wanted poster, but Gwen has learned her lesson. She's not making that same mistake again. Besides, why would a wanted criminal be in the streets calling attention to themselves? Wouldn't they be running around proclaiming doom for everyone?

Besides, he *draws*. That makes him the equivalent of a wizard to her. And she recognizes that fox sketch, too! "Sure, I'll take you up on that," Gwen says, looking over her shoulder at Wolfwood. Ah, good, he's doing well, it seems. Looking down at Fei, she grins, digging into her vest for her coin pouch. "Unless you got other engagements." 

<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.

Kahm seemed to take satisfaction in Elhaym's response, nodding his head silently. Kent's overbearing (Probably actually fine, but everything the lamb did was overbearing to Kahm) fistbump on his shoulder was endured more than it was welcome; The Captain simply mmphed and said, "I suppose not. Remember...we stick to finding who we're looking for."

It was right about the last syllable there that Kahm found himself singled out for attention by the man from on high...or his earthly representative, at least. Ugh, Etones he thinks, though there was not as much to suggest Wolfwood was cut from that particular cloth.

Nonetheless, Kahm decided the preacher's proselytizing could provide a good opportunity. "I am troubled by a man. A criminal and murderer at large" He says, producing a crumpled wanted poster from his pocket-the same one others my have have seen hung up in various parts of the town.

"Perhaps you've seen him?" Kahm said, eyes narrowing, "Or maybe you could spread the good word, if you're concerned for your flock." 

<Pose Tracker> Fei Fong Wong has posed.

Fei Fong Wong has clearly not seen the bounty posters yet otherwise he might've...shaved his bangs? No probably not but he would've probably tried to find more subtle work. Adelhyde is a bustling town--he's hoping that will keep people from tracking him down. Like angry former villagers. And Kislev. Yeah. Kislev.

"Oh sure thing." He says to Gwen. "What would you like? Sketch? Painting?" He glances over to Nick Wolfwood.

Oh a priest.

He tunes him out because he's not even the first crazy preacher guy on the streets today. Besides, if there's a god, /he/ certainly isn't in its good graces. Anyway, so far he remains oblivious--and what are the odds that he'll recognize Elly? Why, he'd have to be some kind of person who can't get her out of his mind to remember what she looks like by now even through her disguise! What are the odds of that? Very small, almost certainly. 

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

Part of Elly, that she can't control, starts playing a game. That game is 'count how many Lambs you see with red hair.' Gwen makes Elly a winner; the prize, unfortunately, is depression.

She scans the crowd without enthusiasm in echelon with Kahm, not directly engaging with the priest. She hikes up her dress a little so she doesn't track it in the, you know, filth, and turns her head--

Which would give Fei a sketch-perfect view of her face in profile, making it 100% undeniable that it is in fact that purple-eyed redhead from the woods who looks about as vicious as a hamster. 

<Pose Tracker> Nicholas D. Wolfwood has posed.

Wolfwood eyes scan Kahm as he comes closer, noting his posture seems very disciplined and stiff. Considering his tone and what he is looking for, Wolfwood is going to assume this guy is military or some form of law enforcement. He doesn't lose at smile on his face, responding to the man's problems. "Ah I see. You are a man of justice and seek someone who violated civil order. That is something I can help with." He is about to break out the confessional when he is stopped by a poster, scanning the person on it. He considers for a moment, trying to figure out if he knows this person. He recalls Gwen almost shooting him for a man with black hair.

Just then, his eyes move under his dark sunglasses to see Fei looking at him. The man on the poster. A few feet away from Kahm.

"Of course. We must remain vigilant to protect the people from such a man. You said he murdered someone? Could you tell me more? I am a man of the cloth and therefore have talked to many people so I might be of help to you good sir. All I ask is for a donation so I can find my daily bread." Wolfwood smiles and nods a couple of times. Basically, he's trying to get this guy to pay him for information. 

<Pose Tracker> Gasback has posed.

The word o'god drew Gasback's idle leer away from Fei... at least the jumping bean had finally gotten what looked like a customer.

His gaze found the man in black on his precarious pulpit. His lips quirk with a sort of humor... Ah well, not like a preacher ever hurt anyone.

His flock, however...

The man looks just dandy, pistol and sword at his side, all done up in clothes that ain't never needed a bullet hole stitched together. His woman's a fine one too... but the pet at their heels. Oh, that's trouble.

A bushy brow arches beneath the ratty brim of his battered hat. He's a iold man and his eyes arn't the best... but after a moment of narrow-eyed scrutiny, he spots a face he could remember from a few posters. Posters were important, might as well be work for hire ads in a certain line of work...

His lips thin... and he works a cork into the end of his bottle. Finish the glass but save the rest. They were looking forsomeone. 

<Pose Tracker> Kent Hauch has posed.

Kent swaggers up behind Kahm as he approaches Wolfwood, looking the priest over. His posture is totally apart from the other man's - for one, he looks comfortable in his clothes. For another, there's nothing stiff about him. Kent walks and stands like a big shot completely unintimidated by anything around him.

He leans down toward Kahm, voice pitched low, but not so low that the priest can't hear. In fact, it's almost certainly intentional. "Careful with these types, mate. Standin' out here being loud as day? Like as not he's soakin' marks left and right." At no point does he break eye contact with Wolfwood. The sneer on his face... Kent doesn't give a shit what the man does to get a meal, but he certainly seems to take some pleasure with interfering.

--

Another man, looking to be on the grungy side of fifty, lowers himself into a seat near Gasback. The old bandit can smell the chemicals and alcohol coming off him before the ugly man actually shows up. "Evenin' friend," he says, flashing a giant-toothed smile at him. "You don't mind if I set a spell, of course."

He's likewise dressed well in dark greys, but rumpled and stained with an incongruously shabby leather bag hanging across his chest, glass clinking inside it. He has his own bottle, unlabelled and dirty, filled with a clear liquid that doesn't smell necessarily potable. 

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

Digging into her coin purse, Gwen frowns. "... Damn, I think I'll just have to settle for a sketch." Taking out the necessary gella, she gives her money to Fei, then looks around. "I suppose I should take off my hat," she comments idly, slipping it off her head to reveal a head of curly light auburn hair. Hardly the sort that the young woman sports not too far away from her, dressed in her finery. "Oh man, look at her," she comments, idly. "If you got a portrait of that lady over there, I bet you could sell it for a thousand gella at least."

You know, that lady over there. The one Fei surely will not recongize. "Oop, at least, she was over there? Should've seen her. They must be from out of town. People like that always have a few extra coins to spend." 

<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.

Kahm Yugh may not be much for subterfuge, but he was nobody's fool. He met Wolfwood's promises and assurances with a stoic face that suggested little passed by this man's notice (As his target sat painting mere meters away from him). "I'm well aware of the deceit this man's profession breeds." He said, quietly, in turn to Kent when the taller man came up on his side.

"He did not just kill a man. He murdered a village." Kahm's voice had none of the priest's tenor and gravitas in it, he spoke as a man merely stating facts, "Neither women nor children were spared. He possesses the means to do so again, and may well do it if he is not stopped." From a pouch he drew a few gella, letting the sun glint off their shiny exterior in Wolfwood's eyes, "If you know something, I could offer this...if that's what the lives of others are worth to you." 

<Pose Tracker> Fei Fong Wong has posed.

He already has. No, not quite. He couldn't finish it. He never could finish it--for a moment, Fei looks like he's not seeing what's before him--but something else. His eyes are not quite focused right--and then they snap into a much sharper focus, hyper-focused. The complete opposite he just was moments before. He takes the money from Gwen and says, "I'll get right on that in a minute. That woman--" He tells her. "I know her."

He pauses and then hands the money back to Gwen. "Um, I'll be irght back but until now you better...hold onto this." Just in case he gets shot this time. It's possible Elly would shoot him, in theory. She threatened to do it before. It's not /impossible/.

There are worse ways to go and worse things that could happen to him.

He walks right up to Elly and says, "Hey! Elly!" He waves his arm to grab her attention. "Hey!" He runs over. "What are you doing here?"

He has no idea that she isn't alone. Though he does--out of the corner of his eyes--spot a crumpled wanted poster.

He tilts his head at it.

Huh. Looks kind of famili-- 

<Pose Tracker> Kent Hauch has posed.

Kent Hauch just starts laughing. 

<Pose Tracker> Nicholas D. Wolfwood has posed.

Wolfwood looks over to Kent, hearing the man clearly thanks to his priestly abilities. He merely smiles at the man, looking the man over under his sunglasses. The priest is already putting some sort of picture together of what is going on here. Whether he is right or not remains to be seen but this is smelling of a posse...the kind that run people out of town. For the moment, Wolfwood doesn't even know if this posse is lying or not. If this murderer was framed or is actually someone Wolfwood is going to have words with later should he decide to get involved.

The priest's gaze returns to Kahm. He listens to the story about the guy who murdered a village. "That sounds like quite the hombre, sir, but can really one man murder a village." He knows better. He has met people who could do just that. He might've been such a person in the past.

And then Fei does something really stupid. "Uhh....Well by golly! He's right over there." Wolfwood seizes the bag of Gella because he isn't letting this muscle head cheat him out of tonight's meal. 

<Pose Tracker> Gasback has posed.

Gasback's attention wheels around to rest that glowering eye on the man that had invited himself to the old robber's table. "Please yourself." he uttered in reply, his voice dry of mirth or civility. He looked the man over, shabby, stinking, hasn't bothered to spend the extra few bits for a bath. He can only imagine where the money went. His features rest into a scowl.

It was disgraceful. Gasback was suspicious. He had become suspicious of life in general. It's a hazard of his line of work. You either take to drinking or become paranoid. Especially talented folks can often do both at once in a terrible sort of juggling act.

he rests his hand near his bottle, keeping a weather eye on the man and his bottle... What was that smell...?

Fei had left, left his customer behind, Gasback looked away from the man across the table, loosing him in his blind side as he turned his head to track Fei and... Oh. 

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

Elly feels someone talking about her. Over the hustle and bustle of the crowd she can't really make out exactly what Gwen is saying; at least she isn't laughing, as far as she can tell. Her head tilts slightly forwards, expression rather somber, especially when Kahm relays the crimes that are being attributed to Fei Fong Wong.

She knows, of course, that it was a horrid misunderstanding. An accident. A stupid accident but one motivated by fear and anger and confusion and a desire to help. It's unfortunate he's their only lead, Elly reflects. But...

'hey! elly!'

Elly's head turns as Fei puts down his sketchpad and jogs on over briskly. She blanches at the fact that he is approaching with the energetic enthusiasm of a surface puppy-dog. At least he's healed from all the wolf bites, Elly thinks, as she raises one hand to the base of her neck and says in sheer astonishment, "Fei!!"

Her head half-turns because Kahm is right behind her, but the bonnet means that angle can't see the sudden contorted expression on her face. 

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

'That woman--' "Oh?" Gwen pauses. 'I know her.' "Ah, really?" It's the sort of response that could be read so many different ways. Incredulous, sarcastic, even demeaning. Her expression and response, as she recollects her money, tell a different tale. She knows that glint in his eye. The way he went from seeming not quite invested in the world, to being fully aware of the moment. "Lucky you~"

In Gwen's world, if she assumes the best, it's easier for her to find the silver lining.

Except when it leads to something very different.

Her smile fades as she sees the interaction between Wolfwood and Kahm, as well as mysterious girl in her bonnet. Something's not... quite right... Her gut churns the way it does when she sees a raging wildfire from miles away.

She reaches out a hand. "H-hey, you sure that's your girl?" 

<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.

"Then you must not be a very worldly priest." Kahm replied evenly to Wolfwood, taking his claimed ignorance at face value. His hand remained outstretched while several events conspired all at once to steal his attention. The sound of a man he didn't know calling the Lieutenant, but not by her proper name. Kent's boisterous laughter. But above all, the half-shocked voice of the Lieutenant herself was what jolted his head around.

Fei!!!

Right at that moment, Wolfwood snatches the gella right out of his hand.

"Hey!!" Pure instinct forced Kahm to turn back, but it was immediately fought back. Not when their actual target had, unbelievable, walked right up to them and said hi.

The priest could keep the coin. He had no need for it.

The Captain was at Elhaym's side in an instant, his hardened, blue-eyed gaze staring Fei down with all the ferocious intensity of another wolf from Blackmoon Forest. "Is this him, Elhaym?" He spoke without looking at her, refusing to take his eyes off the ponytailed youth for even a second. 

<Pose Tracker> Vash the Stampede has posed.

As Kahm and his entourage make themselves more and more noticeable by the people of Adlehyde, there seems to be a commotion going on within a nearby saloon. The commotion seems to be rising in concert the greater the attention the posse draws. Just what could be going on in there??

LET'S FIND OUT

"Look! I'm tired of your crap!"

A fist slams on the countertop of the saloon's wooden bar as its owner, an older, surly-looking woman, glares daggers at a man just in front of her. A very tall man. A very tall, blonde man. A very tall, blonde man with spiky hair and a very red coat.

A very tall, blonde man with spiky hair and a very red coat who's currently on his knees on said countertop, hands clenched in begging prayer.

"You gotta listen to me! I'm a man in need!"

His lower lip might be wibbling. It's pathetic.

"I just journeyed for seven straight days without water through the barren desert! I can feel my tastebuds crumbling away into dust! Please, take pity on this desert mariner!"

"You said it was ten days just a second ago."

"Erk."

The man pauses like a statue for two whole seconds before adamantly waving his arms around.

"It's delirium from spending thirteen days out in the pounding heat! Nevermind that! I'm telling you, I need a drink to survive!"

"And I'm telling YOU, I'm not giving you a drink without some gella! Pay up first and then we'll talk!"

The man's lip quivers all the more. His blue eyes grow so big. They might even start to water. The woman just stares at him so flatly his body deflates into a helpless slump on the counter. He might knock over a glass or two. Whoops.

"Fine. -Fine-. You won. I'll give you what you want. But tell me, will you accept payment..."

Suddenly, the man is up on his knees again. His expression deathly serious. All the gravity in the world falls upon his broad shoulders as he slowly leans in with such severity that even the bar owner shirks back a bit. His eyes twinkle.

"... With a kiss??"

And this is when his lips pucker like a suction cup, his eyes shine like diamonds, and he slowly leans in.

It's hard to say why his arms are whipping around like pool noodles, though.

"MWAH MWAH MWAH MWAH MWAAAAAUUUGHHH?!"

...

... "MWAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUGHHH!"

And this is the sound as that pitiable desert mariner who is definitely not Vash the Stampede is chucked out of the saloon by an old woman easily half his height, flying like a ragdoll through the air. Flying through the air, eyes sparkling with tears of defeat.

On a collision course right for Kahm E. Yugh, hands outstretched like a maiden in need of salvation.

Why he's still making the kissy face, however, is anyone's guess. 

<Pose Tracker> Kent Hauch has posed.

The older man does nothing to take advantage of the situation except take a drink of the horrifying liquid in his bottle - so at least there's that, it's not like he's planning on poisoning the other bandit. He turns toward Gasback, giving him another tombstone smile, leaning a little to try and stay in his view.

"Good to see you don't look as washed up as I heard you might be, Mister Getaway. Always good to see a legend staying legendary." He chuckles.

--

Even not paying much attention to the crowd as he was, Kent had spotted Fei and recognized him as the man on the wanted poster Kahm was passing around almost immediately. But, to Kent's reckoning, the longer Gebler had to spend looking around for him, the longer he could count on getting interesting jobs and easy paychecks.

But with Fei literally running directly into the arms of his hunters, Kent can't help but laugh. The big man puts a hand on his hat as he almost doubles over, an absolutely unseemly display. His laugh turns to a cough as he pounds a fist onto his thigh.

He gamely starts recovering, pulling his handkerchief to blot the corners of his eyes. "Bloody hell," he remarks, "thass the stupidest move I've ever seen, innit? Remind me, is this a dead or alive situation?" He hasn't seen the VERY incoming tall man yet.

--

A sharp man in a white suit with narrow eyes and a bowler hat calmly steps out of the saloon a few moments after, dropping the gella for his meal wordlessly into the old woman's hand. Smoke from his handrolled cigarette curls arond the brim of his hat as he unobtrusively moves through the crowd slowing to observe the absurd situation.

Awful lot of well-dressed people around here, aren't there? 

<Pose Tracker> Nicholas D. Wolfwood has posed.

Wolfwood shrugs and pockets the gella, nodding his head toward Fei. I mean if the artist was going to out himself like that it was no hair off Wolfwood's head. Plus he wasn't even sure if the guy was a murderer or not yet. "Ask and the lord will provide"

For the moment, the priest remains an innocent observer, who witnesses the blonde man crashing toward the man he just grifted money from. The priest tries to keep stone faced despite his desire to fall over laughing at how this whole situation is playing out.

Still, the blonde guy looked familiar somehow. Another outlaw? Another drifter who caught the priest's attention before? For the moment, the answer eludes him. Still, sensing trouble, he takes a step back next to the giant cross behind him. 

<Pose Tracker> Gasback has posed.

Gasback turns a weather eye to the man with the smile like grave a graveyard. The scrutiny is momentary but critical. He grunts his acknowledgment. That was a compliment. One he felt wasn't undeserved! Even so, he had gotten a few manners etched into him one way or another. Few.

"Old robbers either retire or die." he noted, working up some sort of leathery axiom that would elude to the thought of one being prefered over the other.

His gaze shifts forward... and that leathery face of his goes stark. His jaw is left slack. A blonde idiot with a long, red coat...

Could be anybody. That was a style that a few had adapted...

Even so, he shifts in his seat, reaching down for the rucksack beside his chair. 

<Pose Tracker> Fei Fong Wong has posed.

Fei Fong Wong is still somewhat bruised up though he doesn't seem to have BITE wounds at least.

"Huh?" He asks of Gwen. "Sorry, she just uh--helped me out of a jam--" He looks towards Kent, who is laughing, then towards that poster.

Oh fuck, he thinks. Why does he have a bounty on his head???

ELSEWHERE

Dan Hibiki sits in Solaran custody wondering when he gets to hit Fei in the face. Those guys better not be trying to get revenge on Fei without him!!!!

HERE

"Uh." He says. "So--I know what it looks like...but it's actually one huge misunderstanding." He slides one foot backwards and says, "Right uh--" He looks towards Elly for a moment. "--person I've never seen before in my life?" There, he thinks, now Elly will be free of suspicion. That's good.

What's even better is that some blond guy in a red coat is flying towards Kahm's lips. "And it looks like you've got a suitor so I'll just skedaddle!"

He turns and runs off--moving past Gwen who--OH SHIT HE HAS TO DO HER SKETCH--he takes her hand and intends to drag her along with him.

"For the inconvenience I'll do the sketch for ten gella instead!!" 

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

Elly does not flinch when Kahm comes up next to her. "... It... is," she says, with some effort. Kahm might interpret it as 'she does not want Fei to instantly slay her for perfidy.'

Swallowing, she gives Fei what is probably the most apologetic look imaginable. When he slides back a pace, Elly reaches out as if to say something, maybe about how they can clear this up and perhaps just find out where the Gear went, or something like that, EXCEPT THAT VASH THE STAMPEDE FLIES OUT OF A BUILDING.

Elly is slightly ahead of Kahm so she has no idea exactly what happens to him. SOMETHING ends up smashing her in the back and sends her staggering forwards. Her skirts flutter and those previously-established platform boots send her staggering forwards more than the Gebler-issue chunky heels would have.

The long and the short of it is that Elly ends up reaching out and getting an arm forwards as if she's trying to hook onto Fei from behind. In actual fact this is desperation to avoid having her face hit whatever horrible garbage they use for streets around here; to the charitable, it's an attempt at silent takedown; to Kent Hauch it is probably a continuation of his imminent death from overlaughter. 

<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.

"Don't move a muscle."

The quiet, militant steel in Kahm's voice cut through Fei's quibbling like the sword that, for now, remained clutched at his side. His stance lowered, as if anticipating that the man's next several actions, "You're coming with us, after you lead us to the ge-"

Kahm new with keen experience at a missile sounded like. The rush of air, the sense of overwhelming speed combined with the overwhelming certainty that, if you did not react quickly, you were doomed.

However, he was pretty sure they did not sound like 'MWAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUGGGHH!!!!"

The Captain's own reactions forced him to turn around more than Fei's opportunistic warning. Just in time to see an abnormally tall, red-coated, blonde man streaking towards him with one of the more horrifying expressions Kahm had ever seen in his time on the surface. And, just to be clear, Kahm had been at Elru. There is time for him to do only one thing: Grimace.

"!!"

The jolt of crash took the Captain right off his feet and flung forward, bowling over someone else (Elhaym, probably) as he dealt with the foreign, terrible experience of Vash the Stampede's lips /somewhere/ he definitely didn't want them to be. He hit the ground with a hard thud that tore the wind from his lungs and set some of his previously healing injuries from Lahan burning any, all amidst getting tangled up with the lankier man's awkward limbs.

Kahm's reaction was instant, violently thrashing to extricate himself from Vash and get up to the ground. He didn't know who this vagrant was or why he'd just crashed into him, but he also didn't care.

"Get off me!" He demanded, reaching for whatever weapon he had closest at hand, "That man must not escape!" 

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

Elly. Of course this girl is the girl this random artist is calling for. She called his name back, didn't she?

Fei. Gwen knows that name. She *swears* it's familiar. Her eyes look past the reuniting 'couple'(?) towards the authorative Kahm, as well as the dark-haired Wolfwood. Oh.

OH. THAT GUY.

Auntie Frea never did claim Gwen was all that quick on the draw. Sure, she had a memory for faces (when they're not black and white wanted posters), and she was great at finding people, but by god she wasn't here to find *criminals*. That's dangerous work. But, c'mon. this guy's an artist. He even drew that nice girl's little fox doll. Sephilia, was it?

That's when the blonde man comes sailing in, like some strange red-garbed... angel... guy. Gwen just stares at the spectacle with a gazed look on her face, allowing Fei to very easily take her hand and drag her along. Her left hand. The non-ARM one, to be exact.

"... O-okay." Not that Gwen's exactly keen on using it. This guy can't the sort to murder a village. Clearly, if it did happen, it's got to be some mistake. Maybe he *was* framed. "Uh-" She's managing to keep up with him, at least. Thank god for ARM-powered hearts. "You got... any idea what's... going on?" 

<Pose Tracker> Vash the Stampede has posed.

He is naught much more that a smear of red and blonde and black flying like a bird of heaven. An awkwardly, gangly bird. Shrieking like a banshee. Being compelled to fall by gravity.

So maybe the bird metaphor doesn't really work after all.

SMACK

And this is the sound of that ungainly, not-very-much-of-a-bird crashing lips-first into Kahm Yugh, the resultant high velocity collision bowling the both of them over lip so many pins. Limbs become a tangled, rubbery splay from which there is no escape. The Humanoid Typhoon is upon Kahm Yugh. And sobbing the whole way down.

The exaggerated smack of his lips is just gratis, really, ignore that.

"NO!!" cries the blonde man in dismay as he collapses; that his face is cleverly and conveniently concealed from the exact angle that Gasback is facing is obviously a perfectly bizarre coincidence. Of course. "MY FIRST KIIIISS! My heart is as aflame as your hair!! I'm so terribly sorry ma'am, but this must be destin--" Slowly, Vash pulls himself up, to oblige Kahm. He pauses. Looks down. Peers.

"Wait."

...

His lips purse. And, unless stopped, he's going to grab Kahm by the face, turn it about to face him -directly-, lean in in a way uncomfortably close... and stare. Stare with ALL THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD upon Kahm. He stares. He squints. He pinches Kahm's cheeks. Smooshes them. Tugs at his hair a bit.

"...y." A frown settles on his lips. "Ugh. Seriously? -Damn- it! I thought for -sure- I was going to run into the redhead--"

It's only then that he notices Kahm bucking underneath him like a wild bronco, and only then that he suddenly starts whipping about with a quivering "WH-WH-WHOA S-S-SORRY IT WAS AN HON-HON-HONEST MISTAKE--!!"

Which doesn't seem to stop him from clinging onto Kahm for dear life for a good, vital handful of seconds before he's finally knocked free, tumbling to the side as he cries out, "WAIT, WOMAN OF MY DREAMS--!" for poor, collapsing Elly. Which just -might- give Fei a serendipitous amount of time to run for his life. Or finish his sketch. Whatever. 

<Pose Tracker> Kent Hauch has posed.

Kent Hauch is like a rock in the brook as a bunch of absolutely bonkers shit starts happening all around him, none of it touching him. "This town's amazin'!" he yells, sidestepping Vash colliding into Kahm without really looking down, focusing on the task at hand for the moment.

Kent reaches over his shoulder, hand digging into the pack at his side, pulling a gun without respect for the laws of man or God. Well, we say 'gun', but there is no mistaking this for anything less than an advanced ARM, a chunky-looking dark grey pistol with a few dials and buttons for his thumb. A hose extends from the back of the gun, vanishing into the pack.

The hose - and the gun's chamber and barrel - glow an angry red-hot.

Kent sights down along Red River, sneering as he tries to get a bead on Fei - but Elly's in the way. A bad target. So, pragmatically, he shifts his aim and pulls the trigger. The gun makes wet, heavy thumping sounds as it fires several globs of angrily glowing lava. The molten rock is already starting to cool as the globs arc for Gwen's legs, the first one streaking past her to splash along the path and promptly harden into stone. Should any of the globs land, the heat from them is uncomfortable, but not enough to cause a burn - they likewise harden almost immediately into tephra, Kent trying to weigh her down to likewise slow down Fei.

--

The white suited man continues to move through the crowd and survey the situation, while the older man takes note of Gasback's reaction to Vash. "Ho-oh," he says, taking another nip of his foul fluids, looking generally red in the face. He pushes his wiry grey hair back with one hand, pulling a long match from it. "Not the only ones after that big red paycheck, are we." He reaches into his sack and produces another bottle, which he places on the table. It looks identical to the one he's drinking from, save for the rag stuffed into it.

"Y'wanna talk about shares before or after we gettem?" 

<Pose Tracker> Gasback has posed.

Yhere's no way, there just isn't. He saw that Red Devil himself some twenty years ago... To look the same now, he'd have had to be one of those damned knife-eared bastards. Even so...

Hell breaks loose. Just a whole lot of it.

Fei was running and they were about to give chase while the Dandy wrestled with the wanna be. "Save it. He's gotta be a fake." how loong had tales of the Humanoid Typhoon been circulating? He might have been fresh-faced then... but no, that was impossible. His attention shifted to Hauch. A man of the Badlands working for the likes of those, Military? It left a bitter taste in his mouth. He scooted back from his table, chair-legs scraping dryly as he rose and reached his left arm over to his right thigh. The strap gave with the flick of his thumb and he pulled it free. A blocky gun that ended in a squared muzzle, four holes.

He stepped to the edge of the patio and extended his arm, tracking a few of the globs as they arced through the air...

It was like skeet shooting, shotgun blasts ringing out as he tried to blast the globules from the air before they reached their target. 

<Pose Tracker> Fei Fong Wong has posed.

Fei's plan WAS to run off with Gwen as a fake hostage. They don't shoot the hostages, right? Oh maybe they do. nggghh but he hadn't sold anything all day and he needs to eat food in order to not die. Maybe he could live in the wilderness? Why are inns so expensive in the city??

And why is he thinking about inns when holy shit there's lava. He pulls back sharply because when you can't even punch out a bunch of wolves you don't want to try running into lava even if you are wearing shoes.

this causes him to nearly half collide into Elly who was pushed forward and--

--is now ALSO about to step in lava. Fei throws the paintbrush in his hand for Kent's gun, trying to knock it loose--he has no interest in actually fighting someone with a FREAKING LAVA GUN and who also knows how to USE THE FREAKING LAVA GUN--but more importantly-- he lashes out with that very hand and wraps an arm around Elly's waist to keep her from stumbling in.

"Sorry..." He mutters to her--and frankly to Gwen too--as he ends up just pulling her along his fleeing path--slowed down successfully--as well.

Fei now has 2x redheads.

"It's a long story!" He tells Gwen. "Ten gella is a steal right? Look I'd give it to you for free because of all this but I haven't eaten all day!"

He doesn't have time to thank Gasback for the help--but he'll remember it. 

<Pose Tracker> Nicholas D. Wolfwood has posed.

Nothing seems to bother the priest....until the possible genocide criminal grabs Gwen's hand and starts to drag her away. The priest frowns knowing that while Fei hasn't proven to be dangerous, he shouldn't let the postal girl run off with him just incase he is good at hiding his murder aura.

Wolfwood scratches the back of his head, looking back to Vash and Kahm's romantic moment. "I guess there's no helping it now."

Especially when Kent starts shooting lava at Gwen's leg.

The priest hoists up his cross and begins moving after Fei. 

<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.

Later, these events will comprise the most hated report Kahm will ever have to now. Currently, they're just the most hated events ever happening to him right the hell now. Each one of Vash's probes and prods seems to invoke a new level of anger in the Captain's psyche-some might notice a strange tingle in the atmosphere as things as ionization slowly creeps to the air, and streetlamps spark and flicker haphazardly. Elhaym in particular might get that bad, bad feeling ether users were particular accustomed to knowing.

For now, however, the Captain manages to keep his control by glaring pure murder at Vash. If he didn't know better, he would swear this man knew exactly what the hell he was doing, but no-he was just another lamb, drunk on the wares of the nearby saloon or his own sense of idiocy. "Fool of a Lamb." He spits the word out in frustration when he finally managed to knock the lanky man aside, "Stay out of this, if you know what's good for you."

It's at this point, of course, that people have started shooting. Panic spreads like a wildfire through crowd-people crowd and trip, women scream, and spooked horses rear mightily as their owners tried to get control over them. One stagecoach breaks loose from a passing caravan and begins tumbling down the street, the owner helplessly bearing down on Fei, Elly, and Gwen with panic in his eyes.

"Lieu..!" Kahm almost breaks his own rule, biting back his voice as the report of gunfire and Kent's intercepted tephra rounds speak to another danger. "He has an accomplice!" The Captain shouts, whirling around and thinking of the 'Doc' individual the Lieutenant's report had mentioned, chiding himself for sloppiness.

"Houch, get her out of there!" He asks/orders of the Black Tie leader, trying to focus past the fleeing press of the crowd, producing his sidearm and firing several shots in Gasback's direction, what with the old man holding a literal smoking gun. 

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

Elly finds herself twisted round even as Vash bemoans his fate at having to kiss Kahm's probably-beardy ol' mouth. The bonnet, which was under significant pressure, comes loose, the knot at her chin untying and the hair net giving way as all of that vast mane of red spills out, probably buoyed somewhat and gently air-dried by the side radiation from Kent's lava gun.

It's really scenic. Elly's remark as she gets dragged along, stumbling but not successfully breaking the iron thews of Fei Fong Wong, Slayer of Villages, is, "!!!!"

She starts speaking with stumbling haste. Literally stumbling; though she does not fall greatly out of pace with Fei, Gwen is a complicating factor. "Fei - they're after the Gear - the Kislev Gear, that's what this is all about," Elly says, keeping her voice sort of low-ish, not thinking that she's going to get asked to repeat herself more loudly over GUNSHOTS

And Fei's saying he hasn't eaten?? He's been... drawing pictures for money? Where is that doctor, Elly thinks to herself, even as a loose plan forms.

"I'm sorry for the disturbance ma'am," Elly says to Gwen as she raises that hand and shoves it /right down/ the front of her fancy dress - her own, that is, not Gwen's, that's not where she's hidden things. Something tears and Elly's hand comes back out as she twists momentarily closer to Fei and shoves something against his chest.

It is a pouch of 500 gella. It smells vaguely of crime and kerosene (but the money's still good). Hopefully Fei (or Gwen!) are quick enough to grab it. It clinks like money.

The other thing in her hand is a collapsable combat baton. "Fei, just --" Elly says as she snaps OUT that baton with a rattling click of metal, putting it right across Gwen's field of vision, raising it up as if she's about to strike Fei upside the head--

And there's a runaway stagecoach bearing down right on a course with the small gaggle of semi-involuntary fugitives. "-- Look out!! The horse!!" 

<Pose Tracker> Nicholas D. Wolfwood has posed.

Suddenly, Wolfwood is running pace with Fei and his ladies. This is notable for two reasons. One, Wolfwood appears to be a skinny guy whose muscle tone seems to mostly be in his upper arms and yet those skinny legs are pumping. Two, he is carrying a very large cross shaped bundle by a leather strap behind him with one hand. His other hand very quickly attempts to go for the Gella Elly just produced from an eden all it's own. "Hey there! Nicholas D. Wolfwood! Hey Gwen!" The priest either holds up an empty hand or the one clutching the Gella. Once his introduction is established, Wolfwood quickly pushes the trio away with the cross on his back from the incoming horse blockade, possibly taking the full force of the horse in the way of his course. If you hate this joke, consider the source. 

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

The brief envy of an eight year old girl flexes in Gwen's gut as she sights the released head of hair falling from Elly's bonnet. Just what is her secret? Some sort of special cream, or does she use a light vinegar wash, or-

Oh yeah, Gwen is in the middle of being kidnapped. Possibly. Is it kidnapping if she's not exactly resisting? "Ah, hi," Gwen states to the fellow redhead with an apologetic smile. "Don't think anything of it, ma'am." Wait, is that cooling lava coming for her legs?

MEANWHILE.... Gulliver the horse neatly munches on his meal. His horsey ears flick upwards, swiveling around. He's certain he heard a commotion someplace. His person is gone, but she went after she gave him fud. She is a very good person. She gives him fud. He likes his person. The idea of 'commotion' and 'possible danger' flees from his mind into the oblivion of his well-rested, easy-going horse brain. He continues munching.

NOW, Gwen's throat feels scratching from the startled scream she let out seconds earlier. At-at least it's not... lava... lava. Right. Yes.

Time to focus. The other redhead is talking. A gear. Kislev. Storm blue eyes widen. "... D-damn... That's some bad luck there..." It may even be strange how quickly the Lamb follows along. "I nearly got after that priest guy over this...?" There's no real explanation as to what 'priest', of course. Not that priest back behind them certainly, right?

"Look, uh, I think I believe you," Gwen says between breaths, "but being he's a wanted criminal that's wanted alive, not sure if..." God, how does she say this? "People may want him alive, but there's nothing that keeps us from being-"

Someone just might try to murder them, if panicking wayward stagecoaches don't do it first.

"Damn!" Gwen grips at Fei's wrist with her right, just about to use the weight of her ARM and the cooling tephra still on her right leg to divert their path, but Wolfwood manages to take things into his own hands, with his own brand of mercy. "H-hey, you're gonna get-" 

<Pose Tracker> Vash the Stampede has posed.

Clunk. Definitely-not-Vash's head hits ground ungracefully sprawled with one hand outstretched pleadingly in Elly's direction. Or Gwen's. Or both. It's really kind of hair to tell.

"Wait... my soulmate... you haven't even offered me a drink...!"

'Fool of a Lamb.'

"Huh?" Big blue eyes shutter in a blink as he peers up at Kahm. "--what's lambchops got to do with my soulmate--?" His brows furrow inward; in the chaos of the moment, the brief flicker of his gaze tracking the all too familiar bullet fire of a man with one eye. He hears the firing pattern. His brows furrow just a bit more towards the center of his brow.

"... I understand now," he suddenly declares, voice full of weight as he rises, shakily, to his feet. A stagecoach is loosed, barreling down towards Fei and his accomplices (?).

"You're saying I have to be more brave, like the wily lamb--!" the blonde declares, a quiver in his voice as he clenches a fist. The other is making a move to clap Kahm on the shoulder -right- as he starts shooting his gun. "THANK YOU, BRAVE, SUSPICIOUSLY PRETTY YOUNG MAN, FOR YOUR INSPIRING WORDS! IN EXCHANGE, I SHALL HELP YOU GET YOUR MAN! I SWEAR IT, OR MY NAME ISN'T sumfinrhubarbrassafrassa...tat."

And with that, the man who is not Vash the Stampede bolts, ducking low to produce his mighty weapon -- a rock he just kind of picks up off the ground. And then hurls. "TAKE THIS, YOU VILE FIEND!!" he declares angrily. That the rock goes flying to hit the backside of the poor horse just hard enough to veer it barely off course from any other civilians is probably just testament to how bad he is at this.

With that, he lunges, arms held out and eyes sparkling, truly brave...

"I'LL SAVE YOU FROM THAT EVIL MAN, BEAUTIFUL VIXENS"

... only to widen in horror as he sees Nicholas D. Damn Wolfwood tackling Fei and company out of the way of that veering horse, leaving him - completely by accident of course - on a collision course to potentially tackle that helpless driver off of his stage coach before the horse can manage to do worse. Truly, truly brave.

"-- OH GOD NO WAIT YOU'RE NOT A BEAUTIFUL VIXEN THIS IS BAD I DON'T WANT TO DIIIEEEEE--"

Or just completely thick-headed. It's hard to say. 

<Pose Tracker> Kent Hauch has posed.

Kent hollers back at Kahm, "It's Hoacchh!" with a hard Yiddish 'ch'. Steam rises from the barrel of Red River, one last drop of molten rock dripping from the barrel as he starts moving after Fei in an unhurried fashion. He glances over in the direction of the bullets that scattered most of his lava, and his eyebrows shoot up. "Huh! Well, that'd be an unlikely accomplice, innit." He looks at the old-looking man next to him and nods.

Red River starts heating up again, but with the absolute chaos of the stagecoach and the horse and all the people running all over the place, he can't take any shots that'll help the situation. Grumbling curses, he starts jogging forward, plowing right through any hapless bystanders that don't get out of his way fast enough.

--

Gasback starts shooting. The older man squints, tracking his fire. "Ahh, hell," he curses, sighing again when Kent nods to him. "We coulda had a nice conversation, and then you went and got in the boss's way." He calmly strikes the match on his leg and sticks it behind his ear, the flame protruding forward, matter-of-factly touching the rag of the molotov to it. The soaked rag ignites.

"Name's Samuelh the Molotov, from down El Pazzo way." He grins at Gasback with no real malice as he knocks the bottle he was drinking from over with the bottom of the one in his hand. "Shame about this, but now I have to tie you up so we can get our dang job done." With agility one certainly not expect from someone who looks so old, Samuelh bunches up onto his chair and springs away, flinging the molotov at the table. It's not going to do much to Gasback, but the pillar of blue-yellow flame the patio tabletop becomes is distracting and damn unpleasant to be near.

--

The man in white has finally caught up with the core of the action. He insinuates himself into the corner of Vash the Stampede's vision, looking him up and down. He produces what is likely a wanted poster from within his vest (it has the signature burned edges and single bullet hole), looking from it to Vash for a few moments before appearing satisfied and sliding it away.

He steps up to Vash, expression reserved, and tries to reach out and seize his collar like one would a dog's. "Pardon me, sir, if I could have a moment of your time." It may be difficult for Vash to hear him over his own maniac screaming. 

<Pose Tracker> Fei Fong Wong has posed.

"Well--I mean--it's my fault but--but I didn't MEAN to--it just sort of...happened." Ok Gwen maybe you should dump this guy that's probably the lamest excuse you've ever heard and you know what kind of theme this is. There is no shortage for lame excuses.

Wow that guy just called Elly 'Lou'. Is that an alias?? No just kidding Fei is really not listening to that sort of nonsense because he is dodging lava. IT MIGHT BE FAKE LAVA--but the key thing to remember in your life is that there's a big valley of possibility between 'actual lava' and 'not lava' that 'fake lava' can occupy that you still don't want to step in.

"They can have it!" Fei says. "Though uh-- I think nobody should have it really? But I don't even have it anymore! Doc's taking it far away from here! There's a lot of deserts, maybe he'll build a giant gear sand castle or something--"

MEANWHILE

Citan wonders how he can trick Fei to get into the gear again so he can confront his inner demons or some shit.

HERE

Suddenly a pouch of money is shoved into his chest. "Wait I--"

He looks towards the horse. "HORSE!?"

Fei...can't...stop!!

But he doesn't need to. GOD intervenes.

Through Wolfwood.

Specifically Through Wolfwood's Cross.

Specifically Through Wolfwood's Cross smashing him through the air and down an alleyway which, coincidentally, a bunch of people start passing through along with. Elly and Gwen may be along for the ride--or not!

God always was kind of 'tough love' with Fei. 

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

Elly knew that doctor prick was no good. She remembers this detail - a desert - before starting to say to Fei, "If you can't satisfy their --" and then halting because there are three people in this conversation.

Elly gives Gwen another look as if she just now realized that Gwen has ears and a functioning language center, and as such, is now aware about the Kislev Gear about which they're all arguing. She has no real time to even feel bad about this, before -

They're saved.

Elly is struck indirectly through Fei, getting mooshed against him momentarily as they are all gathered and pressed. Her grip is not strong and in all of the resulting complex motion vectors she ends up separating from Fei, managing to smash into a pressed-metal garbage container with a loud "CLANG," a pained "KYAH!" and the rattling release of her fighting rod.

It rolls out into the street. That thing has resale value.

Later, Elly will likely look up what, exactly, a vixen is. 

<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.

Kahm was already having a hell of a time trying to aim for Gasback without hitting someone in the crowd-his shots were already liable to miss the mark, so they definitely do when Vash waltzes up and slips him on the shoulder just as he squeezes the trigger. "What?!" Kahm shouted at the man with open-faced fury, only to be met with such verbal insanity that, frankly, defies all attempts to be angry. Instead, the Gebler Captain just stares at Vash with increasing disbelief, "...who are you?!"

The question was so earnest it even surprised Kahm.

No matter, however, because the situation down the road wasn't getting any better for the Captain's plans. Through a combination of cunning albeit unwitting teamwork, Vash and Wolfwood manage to respectively reroute the stagecoach's deadly path while also knocking Fei, Elly, and Gwen out of harm's way. The horse veers hard to the right with the impact of Vash's curiously lucky throw, and so Wolfwood winds up getting sideswiped by the carriage rather than trampled beneath the hooves of the panicky beast.

The turn, however, is quite a bit too sharp, putting the entire stagecoach over it's edge. The panicking coachman was narrowly intercepted by Vash, knocked to safety with a thud and a roll just as the stagecoach topples over with a shuddering crash of splintering wood and breaking barrels. Goods and more spill out into the roadway, creating blockage, kicking up dirt, and generally causing enough disarray to provide effective cover for Fei's escape; even Kahm's eyes can't track him through all that chaos.

"Damn!" He cursed, leaping over a bouncing, spoked wheel and pressing into the crowd, eyes searching for Kent, "We've got to find them, they can't have gotten far!" Vash, Wolfwood, and anyone else who's managed to interfere with them would be a problem for another day.

Hopefully, the Lieutenant will be able to subdue or slow him enough for them to catch the trail-and there she is in the street KOed by a garbage can.

Kahm sighed, in spite of himself. 

<Pose Tracker> Gasback has posed.

Pain, sharp and hot, stitched across Gasback's right arm. The sleeve just below his bolted shoulder left with a rip. This is how you know it was just a graze. In moments, blood would trickle down from his fingers, beading at his fingertips and then falling free, pearls of crimson scattered on the dry earth.

Gasback hissed his complaints through bared teeth. His arm came around to grip at his ripped arm and torn sleeve, the pressure staining the coat red. He stepped back, a supporting beam of wood caught a bullet or two meant for Gasback as he took a moment to heck himself before he leaned forward, angling that Shotgun to return fire back at Mr. Yugh.

His temporary companion shows his true colors. The Bandit had a crew... Good Man. He admired that in a working man, keeping his bases covered. He'd prefer he wasn't about to catch the rougher end of it but still, Good Man.

"You just come one and try!"

This was moments before the flash of heat washed over Gasback, searing at his good eye and leaving spots dancing in his sight. He spat a curse... and then stooped down towards his feet. A flap was pulled away on the rucksack and Gasback jammed his right arm into it's depths. There came a hiss of pneumatics and a whine of mechanisms and then Gasback rose, his right arm sheathed from the elbow down in a large, formidable gauntlet.

Pain burned in his right bicep, the graze alive and throbbing. Still he snarled his displeasure and brought the glove up under the surface of the burning table, knocking it up and into the air, the flames writhing across the surface as it tumbled upwards, end over end.

The glove lowered, a relief. His left came up, extending towards the man. All four barrels levveled in his direction. The table came down, a blind between them.

Thunder!

Wood splintered as buckshot kicked into it four times over, sending the table hurtling towards the newly introduced man, flames and all. With this as a momentary blind, Gasback abruptly darted into their own saloon, crashing through and away by a back door. 

<Pose Tracker> Nicholas D. Wolfwood has posed.

With the money in hand, Wolfwood is glad to take a stagecoach to the face. The priest goes flying, crashing into a wall. The cross' weight keeps him from going too far. The cross' weight also causes the wall to collapse in and temporarily bury the priest.

The scene is complete as the cross sticks out of the rubble like a tombstone marker.

Here lies Wolfwood. A priest. A man who liked women and hard booze.

After a few moments, Wolfwood erupts from the rubble breathing heavily with a trail of blood going down his forehead. He laughs uneasily as he wonders why the hell he is involved with this mess. With nothing to do for the moment, he reaches into his jacket to light up a smoke, frowning as the cigarette tastes of adobe and plaster. "I guess I should go look for them later." 

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

Really. Really. Gwen makes a skeptical face. "I'm going to... accept this. For now. But if you're lying, I'm gonna..." It's good that Gwen is managing that grim deadpan stare, because her next threat, which was going to involve 'punching him in the face' because that was certain to scare a man who destroyed a village irregardless of whether or not he knew that she had a ARM for an-

There was a point where Wolfwood's cross slamming her, Fei, and Elly managed to dislodge Fei's grip on her wrist. Gwen's not sure exactly what point that is, because she is the object that somehow, artfully, slams and dislodges the trash can, in just the right way, that rolls Elly into the street for Kahm to find. Maybe. That or the wall of the alleyway. It was something that hurt.

".... gh...."

This is the story of how a man managed to gain two redheads, some money, and his freedom, only to lose the first two to a priest and a blonde battling a horse. Will he keep the third? 

<Pose Tracker> Kent Hauch has posed.

The fire makes it hard to tell exactly where Samuelh the Molotov has gone - until another flaming bottle spirals out from behind one support beam, whangs its sturdy bottom against another, and shatters on the patio floor near Gasback. Fortunately the stone won't catch, but the fuel burns hot and hard.

Gasback fires into the table and hears a gratifying, "Yikes!" as the flame shatters against the support beam, flushing him out - he takes a few steps /up/ the beam before springing toward another, kicking yet again off that one, getting some more distance.

"One thing y'all should know about me is that I hate trying," he calls out from behind cover, not seeing Gasback take off. He's sweating - Samuelh didn't live so long getting in direct fights with enormous men. This is the best he could've hoped for.

--

Kent really... really didn't want any part of the rapidly developing fracas. With each component that adds itself to the nightmare, he walks just a little slower. He's already ruined one suit in that damn mud river, he's not about to lose another to horsecapades.

As such, it's not until it's all over but the crying that he steps down onto Elly's rolling combat rod with a fine boot, bending over to pluck it off the ground. He's fiddling with it when he moves into Elly's field of vision, trying to figure out how to make it go back in.

"You arright, luv?" He doesn't move to pull her off the garbage unless she holds out a hand, which he'll then grab and yank begrudgingly.

-- 

<Pose Tracker> Vash the Stampede has posed.

"IS THIS THE END OF THE LOVABLE whazzishnames--OOF"

And for the second time today, the blonde man with the red coat and the spiky hair who is conspicuously tall but definitely probably not Vash the Stampede faceplants on the ground. That he lands oriented such that the man he saves can use him as a cushion is probably just lucky coincidence for the stage coach owner.

"... owwwww... I think I bruised my spine..."

Eventually, the blue-eyed man releases his captive, who probably goes scrambling off as quick as he can. It's timed, coincidentally, with the very moment that white-suited man eyes him. Hidden from sight, those blue eyes narrow just a bit, lips tugging into a subtle, tense frown. "... dammit," he murmurs, half to himself.

"... WHY DID THAT GUY GET ALL THE GIRLS?! Is it because he's an artist?! ... hmmm..."

The man in white approaches. Reaches.

"... DAMMIT!"

And this lamentation is punctuated as he suddenly spins about -just- as that white-suited man tries to grab him, hands held helplessly up to the heavens.

"I just remembered I don't know how to draw! ARGH! --huh?"

He blinks. Hears that voice. Slowly, he turns.

... or more like rolls. He rolls, on the ground, until he's facing the man in white. His face is deathly serious. Serious as the grave. Serious as -beyond- the grave.

"... sure," he begins, slowly. "If you can answer me one thing. Would you...

"... ever consider buying a portrait from me if you were a beautiful woman?"

A second passes in tense silence as the winds whip past the man in white and the man in red, rolling dust and sand into the air. The man in red stares, stoically.

And then his cheeks puff out like a squirrel's. His skin rapidly starts turning blue.

"Oh god all the motion sickness I think I'm gonna--"

And that's about when the man who is definitely not Vash the Stampede gets up, looking like he's liable to hurl over the man in white's nice white suit in at any moment before he tries to bolt at speeds that are simply uncanny. Road runner-esque.

"I got the mouth sweats-- aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa---!!"

And so brave Sir Vash the Stampede bravely ran away. 

<Pose Tracker> Kent Hauch has posed.

The Man in White uses every inch of his martial prowess to flash step away from Vash the moment it looks like he's about to vomit, which means he blurs from sight and reappears on top of an awning. His hat lands at the halfway point between where he was and where he is.

He looks the sort of alarmed you look when you reach out to pet a dog and it... well, it vomits, this is a vomit and vomit-promise-heavy interaction all around. 

<Pose Tracker> Fei Fong Wong has posed.

Fei says, "Elly!" in horror as she crashe into a metal garbage container. What even happened--he wasn't hit by the horse. Was he...was he hit by God? God dammit God! One day he'll bare his fangs at you!

He takes in a deep breath, looking relieved as Elly returns to her companions. They're just doing their jobs, he reminds himself. They aren't bad. Why did he even run? Why did he do that? He should have surrendered. "Thanks Elly." He says. "I'll try to stay outta the way."

He looks towards Gwen. "Are you okay? I'll try to get you a sketch. On the house." He has money to eat right now thanks to secret moves Elly. He'll have to figure out a way to pay her back. It always feels like she's saving him. Why is that? He doesn't really deserve--

"I didn't want to." Fei says. "I wanted to help them. But the Gear--I saw my friend Timothy get shot and I just--I blacked out. Next thing I know... Doc says the Gear went out of control... I know it's my fault. But I didn't want to hurt anyone."

He sighs. "Oh who am I kidding? No matter where I'll go they'll be after me. I can't stay here. I'm going to have to ... be a drifter."

He sighs. "...So I might never see you again. Sorry. I will keep the sketch until we run into each other again and--you can do what you want."

He then rushes off to continue his escape--all the chaos didn't buy him INFINITE time after all. 

<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.

Kahm is still standing there when Gasback's buckshot manages to glance him in the shoulder. Even at range, it was enough to spin him around and send him down to the ground, clutching at a bloody flesh wound with a hissed curse, "Damn!"

He rises cautiously, but his assailant already seems to have fled. A second glance puts the pieces of their situation together: Panicking civilians, injuries to himself and Elhaym, and something over there seemed to on fire which he's sure Kent had nothing to do with. People would start to take notice after chaos died down, and it wouldn't do to make further showing of force per the Commander's orders.

The Captain grunted in frustration at how nearly their target had slipped out of their fingers. "We're pulling back." He said, with an eye to the Lieutenant, "The situation is too chaotic now, and we've injuries to attend to.

At the very least, the knew he was here now. He wouldn't elude them for long. 

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

When Kent swings on by the alley, Elly is already pushing herself upright, and when Kent "arson" Hauch comes up near her, she answers him, tightly. "It's... trivial; I was used to wearing something thicker..."

With difficulty Elly regains her feet /without help/. She has to lean against the wall again in the process. But she does it! Up to her feet. Intact and whole. She holds her wrist against her chest, but this sure looks like a sprain rather than a critical wound. "Thank you... Mr. Ha--"

BLAM

Kahm is shot and blood streaks out, a thin line of it crossing Elly's face, starting at the edge of her lips and crossing over them.

Elly stares... 'at' Kent, but not really /at/ Kent, which at least he's probably seen before. Fortunately she is mobile and will snap out of it in a minute or two, and in the mean time can easily be steered around. 

<Pose Tracker> Kent Hauch has posed.

Kent looks over at Elly.

"You've got red on you." 

<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.

Kahm snaps his fingers in front of Elly's face a few times, wincing as he does so. Hm.

"Do you have a handkerchief." He asks, looking at Kent. 

<Pose Tracker> Kent Hauch has posed.

"Thass a ridiculous-like question, innit," responds Kent, pulling a handkerchief out of his vest pocket, transferring it to a pocket in his slacks, and pulling out a different, cream-colored handkerchief from his vest pocket.

Kent's an asshole, but he's not a barbarian who's about to wire his sweatkerchief onto a lady's face. He steps closer to Elly, tilting her chin up with one hand and dabbing the blood away. It would look like a gentlemanly, potentially tender moment if there wasn't a fire in the background, a man carefully dropping down from an awning, and a lava gun shoved in his armpit. 

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

Elly resists none of this. Fortunately it wasn't a lot of blood. For some reason she looks at her hands afterwards.

/mystery/ 

<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.

Kahm notes the Lieutenant's reaction, but that's all he does.

"Alright." He says, appling one of those fancy solarian seal bandages to his shoulder in the meantime, "Let's make tracks before people start to ask questions. Keep an eye on her, if you could." It might've been too soon to bring the Lieutenant back into the field...he supposed that was the Adjunct's call, though.

Kahm took one last look at the chaos left in their wake before sighing inwardly. Surface dwellers. 

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

'I didn't want to.' It's probably a lie. He's a complete monster who destroyed everyone in that village- men, women, children. People who have sent packages. Letters. There's going to be things that'll never reach their final destination.

'I wanted to help them.' Return to sender.

'Doc says the Gear went out of control.' No one wants parcel from the dead, either. Might as well bring the chill of the grave with it, to see the writing of someone who has been reduced to dust.

'I know it's my fault.' It makes it worse when you think of it in terms like that. That's what's running through the so-called 'Super Courier' Gwen's mind right now.

But it's not the only thing.

"Gimme a second." Shifting from her prone position, Gwen's normally cheery eyes grow tired as she reaches her left hand into her vest.

An object is tossed in the darkness of the alleyway, hopefully landing in Fei's hands. "Here. A courier's pay isn't much, but it'll help. And don't tell anyone. Consider it an advance payment." She half-smiles at him. "Sounds like you got a lot to make up for. You better survive."

This, of course, just means Fei has even *more* money, right?

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