imma vote for tia

I think Torqez is still dodgy, claiming confirmed townie from dead ppl. and posting logs that cant be confirmed.

In the interests of what ER has told me in his defense in PM, I trust him more so.

Voting Tia

I vote EvilRunt for lynching

We are now in tie-breaker voting!

You have 1 hour to decide to switch your votes. If you elect to not vote/switch then your previous votes will stay the same.

xara is not allowed to vote due to missing main voting phase.

*yawn*

voting evilrunt

It was getting dark but Nathaniel Brunson knew he needed to find that last cow and get it back to the ranch before he could go home. The wolves had been especially ravenous as of late and the last thing they needed in these tough times was to lose another hide of money to them. He spurred their horse onwards peering into the dark and trying to locate any movement in the thick brush. Nathaniel’s eyes played tricks on him with the sun going down and he thought he might have seen something. Quickly, he set off in the direction where he thought the movement came from only to find out it was a deer that quickly scampered off.

Frustrated he continued to search and decided that to follow the river in hopes that it would stay close to water. As his search continued he caught himself nodding off at times. “Aww hell, why do I have to be out chasin one darn cow when I could be at town hittin up the saloon?” Nathaniel exclaimed, getting angrier by the minute. Suddenly he heard a sound and turned in the direction just to see a wolf slowly creeping on the forest edge watching him. He was not worried about one wolf as he could easily handle it with his pistol or rifle but he knew that where one was, there would be more; possibly many more. He spurred a little faster hoping to find the cow and get it to safety before the beasts could find it and make it their dinner. In the distance he heard a gunshot that completely startled him awake. He kicked his horse into a run and headed off the where the sound came from. It could be someone else in trouble from these wolves.

Billy Claiborne had been out all day doing what he normally does, looking to steal cattle. But now it was getting dark and he wanted to go ahead and cut himself off some beef for the evening before he headed home. He had been rustling cattle for a few years now and had some contacts where he sold them to some easterners in order to keep it quiet as to who was doing the rustling. He knew the cattle tended to wander all over this area due to the lack of fences on the properties so he decided to head out and find one more and get himself a nice steak. He came up on one drinking near the river bed and deemed her to be the perfect one for the night. He would be able to kill her, cut off whatever he wanted and then he knew the wolves would finish it off making it look like they were the culprits. He pulled out his pistol and put it up against the cows head squeezing the trigger. Instantly the cow dropped over dead from the shot to the brain. Quickly holstering his pistol he jumped down and grabbed his knife out of its sheath. Cows were always tough animals to cut up because their hide was so thick, but he had kept his knife sharp at all times just in case he needed it for something like this. He thrust the knife into the belly of the cow and started ripping it open from the udder to the chest. Blood and organs spilled out onto the ground leaving a warm stench that filled his nostrils. Grinning he dipped his finger into the blood and put it to his mouth. He enjoyed the taste of warm blood everyone once in a while because it had a very earthly flavor.

He continued to cut away on the cow getting some pieces off that would feed him for the night never noticing the rider coming up on him from his right. Suddenly he heard a click of a hammer and he turned to see Nathaniel on his horse just a few yards away with Nathaniel holding his pistol on him. Slowly, he raised his hands upwards, “Look mister, this here cow was already dying when I got here. All I did was put it out of its misery and then decide to take a couple steaks rather than let it waste all its meat.” He said assuringly. Nathaniel was unsure if what he said was the truth but he didn’t see any way for the cow to have been hurt and dying already. “If that is so, then how was it injured?” he asked, “Why should I believe you are not out here rustling cattle! We have been having some disappear lately.” Billy nervously replied, “The cow had a broken leg and we both know the wolves were gonna get her. They been crazy the past month or so! Come on down and check her out yourself mister, you will see I am tellin tha truth!”

Nathaniel dismounted, visibly annoyed that all his time had been wasted but wanting to see if this guy was in fact being honest or not. If he wasn’t he would probably shoot him and be done with it. He walked over to the cow and started to inspect it while trying to keep Billy covered with his pistol. Suddenly, he heard a noise from across the river and turned to see what it was. It was just another stupid deer. He turned back to look at Billy only to see a knife coming towards his face. He tried to adjust aim and hit him before he could get any closer but was not fast enough. Billy’s first strike landed on his arm severing the tendons in the bicep and forcing him to drop the pistol. Screaming in pain, Nathaniel tried to push Billy away to get to his horse. As he turned to run he felt a slash across his back and the knife ripped across his muscles. His legs seized up and he fell to the ground from the pain. He struggled to get back to his feet but was knocked down by a boot shoving him in the back. As he fell, face first into the ground, his head hit a rock knocking him senseless.

Suddenly, Nathaniel felt hands grasping the back of his neck pulling him up onto his knees. Billy walked around to the front of him with a disgusted look, grabbed his chin and forced him to look at him. “You made a real mistake coming out here all alone boy. Now make your prayers before I send ya to meet your maker.” He took his knife and put it up against Nathaniel’s throat slowly sliding it from the left side to the right cutting him open and watching the blood pour out. Nathaniel gurgled as he tried to breathe but even he knew that it was useless. With a last gasp he pulled a small pistol from his waist band, aimed it at Billy’s head and pulled the trigger. Both men slumped over on top of each other. They would be found stripped of flesh by the wolves the next day.

Nathaniel Brunson (AKA Torqez) the loyal townie was dead.
Billy Claiborne (AKA EvilRunt) the Mob Special was dead.

It is now Night Phase: You have until 14gmt to get in your actions to SSL and I

i enjoyed my time in the town

Phase 1 was success!

Phase 2 is complete!

Don't lose it in the home stretch!

FU ER! I trusted you

Sissy, the cat, was in a good mood this morning.  She'd been out all night hunting and had gotten quite the catch:  several mice, an adolescent mole and a nest of baby sparrows.  At one point she'd even hooked up with the neighboring tom, a skinny little wretch named Gin.  He was mangy and reeked of rotten blood and urine, but hey...he was the only one around for the moment.  She padded softly along the walk to her home and sat back to wait patiently for the screen door to open.

The driver of the post coach stepped up to the door of the Sheriff's office and rapped on the frame sharply. 

"Come in." called Behan.

The driver opened the door and entered, almost tripping over a dark blur that raced inside between his legs.  "Dammit!" he cried.

Behan looked over and watched as the cat made its way to the back. "Sorry about that."

"Got any mail today Sheriff?", the driver asked as he warily eyed the pistol in Behan's hand.

"Actually I do, give me just a minute please.", asked Behan.  "You know, they really should make these things better.  With all of the precision to their machines, surely they could line up the levers and mounting pin with the cylinders.", he complained.

The driver watched for several minutes as Behan removed the cylinder and pumped the lever again and again trying to get things to properly line up.  "Dammit", Behan swore.  He set the partially disassemble pistol on the desk and stood up.  "Sorry to keep you waiting, I'll get that post for you.", he said as he made his way into the tiny kitchen in back.  He reached for the bundle of mail on the counter and stopped as he saw the cat sitting patiently at his feet, her tail twitching softly.  "Hey, Sissy," he smiled "one second I'll get you some milk."  He walked to the back door and opened it, reaching for the small glass jar of milk on the steps.  "Now this is civilization", he thought to himself, " fresh milk delivered daily to your door".  Behan pulled a saucer down from the cabinet above him, poured Sissy a tiny amount of the creamy goodness, and set it on the floor in front of her.  "There you go girl.", he smiled.

Behan grabbed the mail and walked back to the front where he saw the wizened old postal driver peering over his desk examining the pistol.  "Is that a uh...'58 Remington?, the driver asked.

"Why yes it is," smiled Behan warmly "It's a souvenir from my days in Carleton's Column during the war."

"I was in Paulson's Independent out of Ohio.  Say I thought you said you was from Missoura'" the driver asked.

"Well I was raised in Missouri", Behan began "but I left and..."

Sissy finished lapping up the last of the milk as she listened to the men in front murmuring to themselves.  She couldn't understand a word of course but she knew from the tone of her master's voice that he was in a good mood.  There had been so many days of late where he was always angry and yelling at people, and she welcomed this fresh burst of happiness.  She silently walked toward the front, hoping that he might play with her this morning.

The conversation between the driver and Behan had reverted to its original topic...the pistol on his desk.

The driver expertly assembled the pistol, partially cocking the hammer to line the internals up correctly.  "You see?  It's as simple as that.  Just be very careful not to let go of that hammer!"  The two men laughed.

"Thanks again, Bob.  This will make things alot easier.", said Behan.

"Have a good day Sheriff." the driver returned, as he slipped the mail bundle into his bag.

Sissy crouched low to the floor, her tail twitching as she watched her master playing with the shiny object in front of him, grunting as his sweaty hands worked the lever and hammer.

Bob turned toward the front door and pushed at the screen preparing to cross the threshold onto the boardwalk outside.

Behan was almost there...he knew it.  He carefully cocked the hammer halfway back and slid the mounting pin into place.  The driver had been very specific with his instructions.  His hands shaking, he pushed the lever back to the closed position.

Sissy sprang at Behan's ankle that was tucked underneath his chair.

Behan's concentration was intense and he wasn't paying attention to where the barrel was pointed. He felt a sharp pain in his ankle and he jerked in surprise, his thumb slipping off of the hammer allowing it to drop down onto the fully loaded cylinder. The pistol discharged, taking off the back of the postman's head...pitching his body forward onto the walk.

He sat in his chair, stunned and deaf.  "Aw hell...more paperwork."

Outside, the stray tomcat Gin lapped the dead man's blood off of the wooden planks where he lay.

Walking Corpse, the loyal town citizen, is now dead.

***  Day Phase.  You have until 0200 to cast your votes. ***

ok cool so I didnt die!! YAY