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A Wrangler's Tale

Bull Run

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OOC: PM me if you'd like to join this RP

Over the years Mexican lands have become known as a fugitives escape & haven for the lawless. Passing hands from Presidents to Emperors, & Cheiftans to Kings, always falling to anarchic wind that blow heavily apon the hot Mexican deserts, & deep into its misty jungles; few corners of Mexico have known lasting order. Thousands who seek a second chance, usually criminals, have fled into Mexico to make a new life. The unique climate and culture has evolved into a Wild & often troublesome state resembling the Old American West. Here small towns are subject to daily shoot outs, & bank roberies while bandits & motorcycle gangs plague the desert roads & mountain paths between civilization.

Jonah Hex's story mirrors that of most who have fled to protectorate Mexico. He has fallen into bad sights with the law up north & wanders south with nothing more than a long coat & his trusty 625 Revolver. Fighting an uphill battle with alcoholism eventually led Hex into several confrontations with the law, eventually blowing off a bartender's ear in a drunken rage begining his adventure as he traveled extensively throughout Northern Mexico...


Hex stumbled drunkenly out from behind the large garbage container he had slept by, his clumsy steps leaving a cloud of dirt as he walked. Finally he reached pavement, it was a road. [i]"$%*#!..Im gonna get run over."[/i] He heard a crash; it starteled him. He looked down to see the bottle of Tequila had slipped out of his grip & onto the street. He hadn't even noticed it was in his hand, & although it was nearly empty he cursed at the waste. [i]"Duermete boracho!"[/i] yelled an elderly woman from her small house. Hex had picked up some spanish & knew she said something about sleeping..and a drunk. It wasn't until then that Hex realised it was the dead of night..

At 4 in the morning Hex walked steadly into El Canton, a popular Saloon-like bar in the town. The owner/bartender, who was wiping down the counter looked up surprisingly at Hex. [i]"Well, your up early."[/i] [i]"Earlier than you think."[/i] Hex replies as he pulls his revolver on the bartender. The bartend ducks under the counter and searches for his stached firearm; it was gone. Hex reveals a second gun [i]"Lookin for this?..Get up! Gimmie a bottle of your best liquor & whatver's in yer pockets, now!"[/i] Hex was experienced. He knew that in Saloons like these, owners kept the real money on them at all times. He also knew they were usually armed & he had snuck in earlier to find the bartender's weapon.

$357. Pesos where at some point the official currency, but dollars had become more popular & widely circulated. All together Hex had accumulated nearly $800, still not enough for a motorcycle, but mabey a down payment. He made his way down the road until he caught sight of a decent motorcycle for sale by one of the locals. Its seat was worn but overall the motorcycle was fairly new. It was a powerful one, branded with a well-known name: [b]Hardly Davidson[/b]. Hex didn't hesitate to make an offer. He turned to a dark skinned old man sitting on a chair on his porch. [i]"Is this yer bike..eh..senor?"[/i] The old man glared at Hex, then stood up quickly. Hex continued [i]"How much fer it."[/i]
The old man began [i]"You got money, gringo? Its $2400. No pesos." "I got enough fer a down payment.. $800..(under his breath Hex muttered 'well almost 800')."[/i] The old man quickly approched Hex [i]"I know you got more than that. $2000 thats all. Right now."[/i] Hex gritted his teeth & looked around. Could he take the bike without attracting too much attention? He wondered how loudly the old man would yell [i]"Theif! Theif!"[/i] then he realised he would obviously need the key. He turned to the old man & began [i]"Let me see the key. I wanna make sure you ain't pullin a fast one on me."[/i] The old man hezitated, then went inside. After a hot & grueling 5 minutes he returned with a key. By this time Hex was annoyed, [i]"About time you senile..." "What?"[/i] asked the old man. [i]"Ok, put the key in the motorcycle, lets see if its even the right one."[/i] It was. Hex pulled the crumbled wad of money out of his pocket, gambling the old man coudln't tell the difference. He practically threw the money at the old man, allowing some of it to fall on the floor. [i]"There, $2000 hard cash."[/i] Hex was slightly nervous to see the old man's reaction. [i]"No I said $2400!"[/i] Hex was shocked, his plan had nearly worked but the old mans greed foiled it.

Hex smiled as he made his way out of town on his new motorcycle. He pulled out his revolver, smiled again and kissed it. One more old man with a whole in his foot wouldn't cause too much trouble. In his coat pocket was every last dollar of Hex's money. He followed rumors of wealth in the south of Mexico, & so he rode off...

(OOC: To Be Continued..)


Edited by Bull Run
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[i]"$*&@!! No gas!!"[/i] Hex had rode on for several hours & it haden't occured to him that he might not make it to another town to refuel. He was in the middle of the desert. All hope seemed lost. He pulled his bike over to the side of the rode & contemplated. It wasn't long before he waws sweating perfusely & suffering from heat exhaustion. He sat & slowly closed his eyes. They darted open apon a light rumbling. [i]"The hell??"[/i] Hex looked down the empty road to catch eye of what seemed to be a convoy. He had nothing to do but wait for it to arrive. Leading the convoy was a tan camoflauged truck, which pulled over, releasing a grey uniformed man. The man approached Hex, who struggled to speak, [i]"Look I tried to pay him but he woudln't take my money. I really neded a motorcycle...the guy was an $@!." "Do you need some water, fella?" [/i]the man interupted. [i]"Huh? Oh yea sure yea yea. Lemmie have some water." [/i]As the man returned to the truck, several vehicles caught up, & similarly uniformed men..soldiers exited their vehicles. A delusional Hex pulled his revolver on them, [i]"I didn't steal nothin!!"[/i] The soldiers yelled & at once aimed rifles at Hex. The first man yelled [i]"Are you stupid?!! Put your gun down, idiot." "I aint going back to jail!"[/i] screamed Hex as he fiered a round into the truck windshield.

He awoke, finding himself layed across the backseat of a truck. Appearently, the moment he fired his revolver he passed out on his back on the road. [i]"Where am I?...$&*# Im arrested again.."[/i] The driver looked at Hex through his mirror & began, [i]"We're taking you to town. Your obviously crazy & need some help, but besides that we saw the badge sewed into your coat. What relations did you have with the Confederacy?"[/i] Hex opened his coat, a worn & dirty Confederate badge hung losely. [i]"I was a soldier. Faught three battles in the Confederate Civil War...who are you?"[/i] The driver looked out his window then back to his mirror. [i]"We're Confederates. Officially considered "rogue Ex Confederates" hired to aid in a revolution & hopefully get a foothold for a new confederacy in Southern Mexico. They need troops..we need our country."[/i]

Hex thaught his days of wondering aimlessly where over. He would join up with this mercenary squadron of ex Confederates & make a name & life for himself in the deep south. But suddenly he lept up, [i]"Where's my bike?!" "Its in the back of the truck."[/i] After a moment Hex proposed his thaught to the driver, [i]"I'll join you." [/i]the drivers response was blunt[i],"Your a bit too..wild. I'm surprised, to say the least, that you were a soldier at some point. If you want to help the Confederacy I'm sure you'll find your own way to do so. I don't think this is the job for you."[/i]

Hex was crushed. The truck broke away from the rest of the convoy & stopped at village. Much smaller & run down than the town that Hex had just escaped. [i]"You gotta be kidding me." [/i]said Hex as the driver lowered the motorcycle down from the back of the truck. [i]"Here you are. Good luck soldier." [/i]said the driver who stopped & turned to Hex [i]"Oh, yea here's your revolver."[/i] Frustration within Hex mounted, [i]"Nobody puts their hands on my gun."[/i] He grabbed the driver by his collar & slammed him into the door. The driver landed a clean punch to the side of Hex's face. Hex fell & then felt a kick in his back. The truck door slammed & the vehicle rushed to catch up with the rest of the convoy. Hex fired once, shattering the back windshield & grazing the drivers arm. He heard the driver yell, [i]"OOOOOWWW!!!"[/i] Hex laughed & considered the fight won.


He continued into the town, wheeling his motorcycle beside him & found shade beside a large faded sign....

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After a month Hex had grouped together a small gang robbing banks, local extortion & planned ambushes along the main road. The local Sheriff was a loyal member of the gang & half the town knew it, but it made no difference. Sheriff was little more than a title & badge & he had a family to feed. Hex stockpiled weapons, a large collection of motorcycles, as well as aquiring nearly $23,000. It wasn't easy to hide these stockpiles for long in a town so small. One day Vancho Pilla & his small army of rebels came to town demanding food & water for his troops. Innitially, the town resisted. 3 days of figthing came to a swift end with the burning of several buildings & the death of nearly 16 residents, many of which once filled the ranks of Hex's Troublesome Band. Once this information reached Hex he offered his survices to Vancho Pilla, who at first threatened to hang Hex for his hand in the resistance, but later reconsidered once he knew what Hex had to offer. Nearly 1,000 firearms, 22 motorcycles, & (according to Hex) $2,000. Vancho Pilla slobbered over these resources to arm his men, & accepted Hex as an ally after swearing him in as an honorary Mexican soldier in his rebel army, despite the fact that Hex was mostly Irish. When Hex asked what exactly Vancho was leading an army for, he claimed a "Savior of the South" was awaiting the moment to rise & Vancho's job was to aid this "Savior" on the battlefield. Whom Vancho referred to, would soon be the most famous woman in Mexico, Alexi Silva. But, Hex understood it to perhaps be himself. Fantasizing on establishing a nation that would include Mexico & reach into North America as a new Confederacy.

Hex honed his skills as a dead accurate gunslinger as a soldier in Vancho Pilla's roaming army, acting more as a destructive horde than anything else. Hex's talent with a gun was noted & it wasn't long before he rose in rank, eventually riding as Vancho's right hand man. He became known in hundreds of towns, acting as the "good cop" to counter Vancho's hard-handed tactics. Hex gained first hand experience on how to do business, manage an armies resources, strategize, & utilize the terrain. Finally, the day came for Vancho's Great battle. Hex would serve as a successful mercenary for the Obsidian Guard during the rise of the Coatl Party in Mexico City. During the short conflict Hex would recieve a hideous burn to the side of his face, driving him to roam the central territories as a gun for hire, returning only briefly to recieve his recognition as a hero of the revolution...

Vancho Pilla died shortly after the battle from his wounds, but not before throwing his support behind Jonah Hex to be named General for the Aztec Army. Unfortunatly, Porfirio Diaz II had a higher social standing despite holding considerably less acheivement & skill in comparison to Hex. The decision was not up for a vote. Hex's politcal weight was from that point turned against the new government, being little more than Alexi & high party figures. Eventually, it paid off, but while Hex planned his campaign for Presidency, Diaz again foiled his plans after being named 1st President of the new nation by Alexi. Hex continues to be a thorn in the government's side, putting his gunslinging aside to enter politics.

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