Featured RP: Sagebrush Crossing

[Bookwyrm]

"Fine, I'll toss it," Caldwell grumbled as he threw the jacket over to the cot. "What's next, my pants? It's against my religion to get naked in front of strangers."

[Lady Arwen]

"You're not helping your cause any, Caldwell. Boots next. Same drill. One boot at a time and remain standing."

[Bookwyrm]

"I have blisters. Taking these boots off is going to tear them open. I'm going to get a horrible infection and my feet are going to rot off and you're going to have to carry me everywhere. Though that last bit doesn't sound too bad now that I think about it."

[MountainFireflower]

Charlotte snorted at Caldwell's first comment. "That will not be necessary. Taking your boots off, however, will." She cocked her rifle. "Do it. Now."

[Bookwyrm]

"Are you sure you're even old enough or big enough for that gun?" Caldwell said while taking off the boots. "I'm pretty sure I've seen lion-hares bigger than you."

[Lady Arwen]

"Just...shut up and do it," the Marshal growled, her eyes dark and mean.

[MountainFireflower]

"I made this gun out of what people thought was trash, which I'm sure is more than you can say. Because of this, it's highly advanced and suited to my needs. It isn't called Thunderstick for nothing." Charlotte watched and waited until Caldwell's boots were completely off his feet, then nodded. "Thank you for your cooperation."

[Bookwyrm]

"Thunderstick? So what, it passes gas around the campfire or something?" Caldwell fired back. He picked his boots off and wiggled them in the air so that the contents fell out on the floor. "There! My boots are off! See! Noooooothing inside of them, but bad stinks, sand, and maybe a few dead scorpions. Oh, and five aces, but I was playing cards last Tuesday in a right nice gambling hall."

[Lady Arwen]

The Marshal chuckled softly.

"Base of the bed," she said, and waited until he did so. "Turn around slowly, Caldwell, and keep those hands high."

[MountainFireflower]

Charlotte withheld a grin. "No, no gas around the campfire. Turn around, please."

[Bookwyrm]

Caldwell turned around with his hands still in the air, but turned his head so he could continue complaining over his shoulder.

"Now you're just tryin' to see my bee-hind. It ain't anything special, I'm tellin' you."

[MountainFireflower]

"Trust me, that is the absolute last thing I want to see." Charlotte turned to the Marshal and gave her an exaggerated smile, hoping to add a bit of comic relief to ease the tension. "Marshal, you're up. What shall our honored guest do next? Dance, perhaps?"

[Lady Arwen]

"That would be quite amusing, I must say," the Marshal said, smiling. "However, I think he's tired from his journey."

Keeping her gun trained on Caldwell, the Marshal reached forward and flipped the cell door open, then took a few steps back.

"Take a seat by the heater, Caldwell."

[Bookwyrm]

"Oh, good. For a second there, I thought you all were goin' to make me do one of them fancy lady dances like in the saloons and that would be plum embarrassin'," Caldwell said as he hurried over to the heater.

[Lady Arwen]

"Good. Charlotte, if he even looks like he is thinking about getting up, shoot him."

[MountainFireflower]

Charlotte nodded, doing a mock-salute with two fingers. "Got it."