Post by Stormm on Oct 29, 2015 22:47:14 GMT -5
Shoed hooves clicked and clacked against the pebbles underneath them as the creaking and cracking of turning wheels on a hay filled wagon neared. The full moon of a night gone by was mostly cloud covered, and Justin found himself staring into the abyss overhead as he huddled in the bushes just off the beaten path. Despite the gloomy sky there was enough of a glow to make out the face of the sinister farmer at the reins.
On a night such as that, what had brought the Force of Nature back to Hangtown?
The approaching coach's cries had almost begun to drown out the cawing off in the distance. It was feeding time for the murder, and the flesh they tore at would be just three of the many reasons why Justin shouldn't have stepped foot back in the Hillbilly Haven. Never mind the fact that the Dillingers seemed to be in league with Damian Sorrow after what Justin had found while snooping a few weeks previously.
He could only hope Billy, Phinehas, or even Ruth hadn't caught him skulking about during his last holiday to their sanctum.
"Whoa!" The farmer at the bridle howled before splattering the bushes near Justin with blackened drivel as the wagon came to a halt. An impressive black stallion at the end of the reins grunted as its tail whipped back and forth and it stomped its front right hoof to the dirt. "Such a shame these clouds on a night such as this." His words, used to signal, could be seen in the air from the light of the moon.
Justin popped out of the bush he had been crouched in for what had felt like the last hour. He had corralled the farmer on his way to the twisted fir with a proposition, and the two shook on it; he was ready to collect. "Alright McGregor, what do we know?"
"I reckon you're not going to like it."
The farmer had been a handful for the Force of Nature upon their first meeting, and not just because the smell he hauled into town with him. Justin had spent some time haggling with the man just to come to an agreement. "Something is better than nothing." He affirmed as he tossed a brown leather pouch towards the buggy.
Jiggling the purse close to his ear he seemed satisfied with what he heard and he dropped the bag into his coat pocket. He didn't remove his hand right away, toying with something else that occupied the same space as the currency he had just accepted. "Crisis averted from what I can tell. Once them crows are finished and the worms have their fill, there's no finding those three. Phinehas seemed pretty confident." Not that there was much to worry about in the first place. The Saints could have picked better marks if they really wanted to frame the Black Hand.
"Where's his head at?" The Force of Nature wondered.
Moving his chew from one cheek to the other, Mr. McGregor spat out some more tobacco nectar, further away from Justin than the first time. "Perdition seems a likely destination for Judge and Jury."
Justin nodded. The Saints had been staring down the proverbial barrel for some time, since before he had even joined the Hand. Their hatred obviously stemming from Jury's failed attempts to be a part of something bigger than anyone could fathom. If you can't beat them, join them; and when you can't join them, whine about it and try to get their attention as much as possible. Jury might have a partner in crime now with Judge, but Revelation would prove why he and The Saints would never be Black Hand material.
"So what's the bad news, then?"
The crash from the feeding grounds just over the horizon echoed even louder for just a moment before all went silent. Both had turned their attention in that direction before the farmer prevented the conversation from derailing. "Grimm knows what you're up to."
"I already figured as much, but what does he know?"
"Hard to tell, he has a way of saying a lot without saying much at all."
Justin let out a heavy sigh that lit up in the moonlight in front of his face like smoke off the pyre. "Well, there weren't four ropes dangling from that tree, so I'll take that as a sign that he still doesn't know about me rummaging through his house."
"Maybe he doesn't care. It almost sounded like he expected those kind of actions from you right now. Your way of focusing on the task at hand seemed to impress him."
The Force of Nature had a hard time not letting a comment such as that go straight to his head. The Lord of Misrule, impressed? But why would he expect such actions out of Justin right now? There was nothing The Black Hand wouldn't do, within the realm of reason, so they could very well be behind it all. It just felt too much like Dr. Sorrow's calling card for Justin to point fingers at the Dillingers or the Hand, though. "So he's either a part of it all, or knows exactly what's going on, any indications on which one?"
"Mayhap a little of both, I figure.
"Well that doesn't do me a damn bit of good, now does it?"
"I said you weren't going to like it."
If anything could be taken away from what little information he got out of the simple farmer, it was that Grimm was focused on the battle to come. Judge could spew his venom and Jury could follow the leader, they could try to pin homicide on the Black Hand, and we would not falter. It was a mess that needed cleaned up, and Grimm made that happen. The Saints themselves would just be another mess that Revelation would need to deal with at Trauma One Eighty-One for the Black Hand, and at the end of the night, they'll just be another stain on that rag.
"Alright McGregor, if there's nothing else..."
"Not that I'd care to offer. It's getting dark, and I'd rather these whispers not be heard by anyone else." Skipping the pleasantries, he cracked the leather straps and the stallion reared up and whinnied before darting off into the black, almost leaving the wagon behind. As quickly as the horse had vanished out of sight, so too did the wagon and the farmer up top. The smell of decaying flesh had been left behind, however.
Another sigh followed, almost reverberating in the cooling night air outside of Hangtown, and the Force of Nature looked both ways down the dirt and gravel path before stepping out of the bush he had been in for some time. Another insignificant trip to Hangtown.
Justin kicked the dirt at his feet and turned towards the outskirts, but before he could take another step, the rustling of the bushes startled him. He paused and waiting for the sound again, but heard nothing. As we took another step, though, the brambles rustled once more. "Who's there?!"
Silence.
His mind was surely getting the best of him, as it did often in his trips to the backwoods. He started off down the path one last time before something else stopped him dead in his tracks. "You honestly didn't think you were leaving Hangtown without speaking to me first, did you?"
There was no mistaking the feeling of his heart beating in his throat as the female voice called out to him, and her figure appear from the thicket. "Ru... Ruth?" Justin queried.
The Force of Nature couldn't move, he was temporarily paralyzed, his feet stuck in cement that was not there. His eyes locked, facing forward, as the woman approached him. It wasn't the time to freeze, especially in Hangtown, even more so when a stranger pops out of the bushes and approaches you.
"We meet at last."
On a night such as that, what had brought the Force of Nature back to Hangtown?
The approaching coach's cries had almost begun to drown out the cawing off in the distance. It was feeding time for the murder, and the flesh they tore at would be just three of the many reasons why Justin shouldn't have stepped foot back in the Hillbilly Haven. Never mind the fact that the Dillingers seemed to be in league with Damian Sorrow after what Justin had found while snooping a few weeks previously.
He could only hope Billy, Phinehas, or even Ruth hadn't caught him skulking about during his last holiday to their sanctum.
"Whoa!" The farmer at the bridle howled before splattering the bushes near Justin with blackened drivel as the wagon came to a halt. An impressive black stallion at the end of the reins grunted as its tail whipped back and forth and it stomped its front right hoof to the dirt. "Such a shame these clouds on a night such as this." His words, used to signal, could be seen in the air from the light of the moon.
Justin popped out of the bush he had been crouched in for what had felt like the last hour. He had corralled the farmer on his way to the twisted fir with a proposition, and the two shook on it; he was ready to collect. "Alright McGregor, what do we know?"
"I reckon you're not going to like it."
The farmer had been a handful for the Force of Nature upon their first meeting, and not just because the smell he hauled into town with him. Justin had spent some time haggling with the man just to come to an agreement. "Something is better than nothing." He affirmed as he tossed a brown leather pouch towards the buggy.
Jiggling the purse close to his ear he seemed satisfied with what he heard and he dropped the bag into his coat pocket. He didn't remove his hand right away, toying with something else that occupied the same space as the currency he had just accepted. "Crisis averted from what I can tell. Once them crows are finished and the worms have their fill, there's no finding those three. Phinehas seemed pretty confident." Not that there was much to worry about in the first place. The Saints could have picked better marks if they really wanted to frame the Black Hand.
"Where's his head at?" The Force of Nature wondered.
Moving his chew from one cheek to the other, Mr. McGregor spat out some more tobacco nectar, further away from Justin than the first time. "Perdition seems a likely destination for Judge and Jury."
Justin nodded. The Saints had been staring down the proverbial barrel for some time, since before he had even joined the Hand. Their hatred obviously stemming from Jury's failed attempts to be a part of something bigger than anyone could fathom. If you can't beat them, join them; and when you can't join them, whine about it and try to get their attention as much as possible. Jury might have a partner in crime now with Judge, but Revelation would prove why he and The Saints would never be Black Hand material.
"So what's the bad news, then?"
The crash from the feeding grounds just over the horizon echoed even louder for just a moment before all went silent. Both had turned their attention in that direction before the farmer prevented the conversation from derailing. "Grimm knows what you're up to."
"I already figured as much, but what does he know?"
"Hard to tell, he has a way of saying a lot without saying much at all."
Justin let out a heavy sigh that lit up in the moonlight in front of his face like smoke off the pyre. "Well, there weren't four ropes dangling from that tree, so I'll take that as a sign that he still doesn't know about me rummaging through his house."
"Maybe he doesn't care. It almost sounded like he expected those kind of actions from you right now. Your way of focusing on the task at hand seemed to impress him."
The Force of Nature had a hard time not letting a comment such as that go straight to his head. The Lord of Misrule, impressed? But why would he expect such actions out of Justin right now? There was nothing The Black Hand wouldn't do, within the realm of reason, so they could very well be behind it all. It just felt too much like Dr. Sorrow's calling card for Justin to point fingers at the Dillingers or the Hand, though. "So he's either a part of it all, or knows exactly what's going on, any indications on which one?"
"Mayhap a little of both, I figure.
"Well that doesn't do me a damn bit of good, now does it?"
"I said you weren't going to like it."
If anything could be taken away from what little information he got out of the simple farmer, it was that Grimm was focused on the battle to come. Judge could spew his venom and Jury could follow the leader, they could try to pin homicide on the Black Hand, and we would not falter. It was a mess that needed cleaned up, and Grimm made that happen. The Saints themselves would just be another mess that Revelation would need to deal with at Trauma One Eighty-One for the Black Hand, and at the end of the night, they'll just be another stain on that rag.
"Alright McGregor, if there's nothing else..."
"Not that I'd care to offer. It's getting dark, and I'd rather these whispers not be heard by anyone else." Skipping the pleasantries, he cracked the leather straps and the stallion reared up and whinnied before darting off into the black, almost leaving the wagon behind. As quickly as the horse had vanished out of sight, so too did the wagon and the farmer up top. The smell of decaying flesh had been left behind, however.
Another sigh followed, almost reverberating in the cooling night air outside of Hangtown, and the Force of Nature looked both ways down the dirt and gravel path before stepping out of the bush he had been in for some time. Another insignificant trip to Hangtown.
Justin kicked the dirt at his feet and turned towards the outskirts, but before he could take another step, the rustling of the bushes startled him. He paused and waiting for the sound again, but heard nothing. As we took another step, though, the brambles rustled once more. "Who's there?!"
Silence.
His mind was surely getting the best of him, as it did often in his trips to the backwoods. He started off down the path one last time before something else stopped him dead in his tracks. "You honestly didn't think you were leaving Hangtown without speaking to me first, did you?"
There was no mistaking the feeling of his heart beating in his throat as the female voice called out to him, and her figure appear from the thicket. "Ru... Ruth?" Justin queried.
The Force of Nature couldn't move, he was temporarily paralyzed, his feet stuck in cement that was not there. His eyes locked, facing forward, as the woman approached him. It wasn't the time to freeze, especially in Hangtown, even more so when a stranger pops out of the bushes and approaches you.
"We meet at last."
