03-22-2009, 07:09 PM
Orion was dead.
Piper and Kaden had watched the one-eyed warrior walk away from the kill. They watched him spare a life, something neither of them thought the seemingly cruel man was capable of. They watched him turn his cheek and be the better man.
And then they watched as he was gunned down right in front of their eyes.
The last thing Piper remembered before being bludgeoned in the back of the head was the sight of that man’s bloody smirk as he collapsed.
Amidst the darkness of her unconscious, rough images began to take shape—swirling and churning like murky water until the redhead found herself sitting on an old bench in the middle of a small park. Even as the images grew sharper, the color of the surrounding world remained a drab tone of sepia, akin to an old photograph.
The tiny park that had formed around the mildly startled woman was nothing more than a large stone fountain and a few benches built at the fork of a large, cobblestone road. A few patches of grass peaked up through the dirt, but for the most part, the ground was dry and barren. Looking up, Piper noted the dozens of small, two- or three-story buildings that lined both sides of the street. As she noted the lack of cars and streetlights, the woman felt the familiar feeling of déjà vu befalling her.
Even more bizarre than any of the scenery, however, was the throngs of people casually meandering up and down the sidewalks. The woman all wore long dresses and billowy blouses, and the majority of the men genuinely looked like cowboys, all the way down to the revolvers and spurs.
Rising from the bench, Piper slowly made her way down the center of the cobblestone street. None of the town’s inhabitants paid any notice to the woman, and when the redhead took a moment to look at a nearby building, she realized why.
“Sheriff’s Office,” she mumbled as her eyes scanned the familiar wooden sign that hung over the multi-story structure. Walking—quite literally—through the small group of people hanging outside the wooden building, Piper ascended the front stairs and made her way into the building.
“Beautiful,” she muttered as she surveyed the room. Unlike the present, all the furniture and decorations were in pristine condition. The paintings of former city officials that hung on the walls were clean and coherent, unlike their tattered, torn contemporaries. Unlike the dark, mildly terrifying room of the present, the old Sheriff’s Office was abuzz with life. Everyone was skirting around, busying themselves with paperwork or enjoying some water next what looked like a barrel.
“Water cooler talk’s a lot more antiquated than I thought,” Piper muttered sarcastically as screams suddenly filled the air. Spinning around, the redhead drew her pistol from the backside of her jeans. By the time she could discern what was going on, a trio of men in dark hats pushed their way through a frightened crowd of civilians. Drawing six shooters from their waists, the men began to mow down the numerous deputies and secretarial staff. One of the bullets passed through Piper’s forehead, and just like that, she was someplace new.
With a faint yelp of shock, the woman was suddenly in the foyer of the Olde Town Hotel. Taking a few steps forward, she put a hand to her head and tapped her forehead, as if she was expecting there to be a bullet hole. Letting her hand fall back down to her side, she moved toward the massive staircase that dominated the hotel’s grandiose foyer. At the base of the stairs, she turned around and tried to enjoy the majesty that the hotel had fostered during its heyday.
Just like in the Sheriff’s Office, the building was abuzz with life. People were enjoying meals at several small tables positioned next to the large windows that dominated three of the room’s four walls. Like bees in a hive, the members of the hotel staff scurried around, always looking for something to do or someone to help. It was astonishing to see that a place that looked so dead and decayed could have at one point been the nexus of such life.
Unfortunately for Olde Town, most stories don’t have a happy ending.
As Piper looked on, a gang of men in black hats poured into the hotel’s extravagant lobby. It wasn’t until they began to systematically execute everyone in sight that the throng of people panicked. The medic’s eyes went wide as the defenseless civilians began to topple like dominos amidst the flurry of bullets. The redhead clenched her teeth as she moved forward—her face determined to do something to avert this horrible massacre.
“Piper…” a familiar voice called out, prompting the woman to come to a grinding halt. Spinning around, she found herself staring at the young courier, who was—oddly enough—dressed in period garb. He had a confused look on his face as he stared at her. “Piper…wake up!” He shouted as the hotel suddenly began to melt away around Piper.
“No,” she muttered as everything around her started to run together like a beautiful painting doused in turpentine. Turning around, Piper watched as the massacre faded into obscurity and then to blackness.
“No!” Piper screamed as her eyes snapped open. With haggard breaths, the woman lifted her head and found herself still in the Olde Town Hotel. Only this wasn’t the gorgeous building it had been in decades passed. This was the derelict that had nearly been consumed in the fires of the siege Kai’s thugs had brought upon the ghost town.
Groaning softly, the redhead tried to move her hands only to find that they were bound behind her back. For the second time in less than a day, Piper was once again a prisoner of one of Kai Demolic’s cronies.
“Piper,” turning her head, the woman saw her young companion, who was chained just as she was. “Are you okay? It sounded like you were choking or something.”
“I’m fine,” the redhead muttered despondently as she let her head hang forward. It was a complete and utter lie, and part of Piper knew that her lethargic tone made that point rather evident. At this point, the redhead lacked the stoicism to mask the depression. She was used to people dying on the battlefield, but this was... different.
"Orion didn't deserve that," she muttered as she tilted her head to look over at Kaden. "He chose to be the better man, and he paid the ultimate price," she added softly as the courier nodded his head. "We have to finish what Szar began...we need to bring the bastard behind all of this to justice," Piper rasped before falling silent.
Piper and Kaden had watched the one-eyed warrior walk away from the kill. They watched him spare a life, something neither of them thought the seemingly cruel man was capable of. They watched him turn his cheek and be the better man.
And then they watched as he was gunned down right in front of their eyes.
The last thing Piper remembered before being bludgeoned in the back of the head was the sight of that man’s bloody smirk as he collapsed.
***
Amidst the darkness of her unconscious, rough images began to take shape—swirling and churning like murky water until the redhead found herself sitting on an old bench in the middle of a small park. Even as the images grew sharper, the color of the surrounding world remained a drab tone of sepia, akin to an old photograph.
The tiny park that had formed around the mildly startled woman was nothing more than a large stone fountain and a few benches built at the fork of a large, cobblestone road. A few patches of grass peaked up through the dirt, but for the most part, the ground was dry and barren. Looking up, Piper noted the dozens of small, two- or three-story buildings that lined both sides of the street. As she noted the lack of cars and streetlights, the woman felt the familiar feeling of déjà vu befalling her.
Even more bizarre than any of the scenery, however, was the throngs of people casually meandering up and down the sidewalks. The woman all wore long dresses and billowy blouses, and the majority of the men genuinely looked like cowboys, all the way down to the revolvers and spurs.
Rising from the bench, Piper slowly made her way down the center of the cobblestone street. None of the town’s inhabitants paid any notice to the woman, and when the redhead took a moment to look at a nearby building, she realized why.
“Sheriff’s Office,” she mumbled as her eyes scanned the familiar wooden sign that hung over the multi-story structure. Walking—quite literally—through the small group of people hanging outside the wooden building, Piper ascended the front stairs and made her way into the building.
“Beautiful,” she muttered as she surveyed the room. Unlike the present, all the furniture and decorations were in pristine condition. The paintings of former city officials that hung on the walls were clean and coherent, unlike their tattered, torn contemporaries. Unlike the dark, mildly terrifying room of the present, the old Sheriff’s Office was abuzz with life. Everyone was skirting around, busying themselves with paperwork or enjoying some water next what looked like a barrel.
“Water cooler talk’s a lot more antiquated than I thought,” Piper muttered sarcastically as screams suddenly filled the air. Spinning around, the redhead drew her pistol from the backside of her jeans. By the time she could discern what was going on, a trio of men in dark hats pushed their way through a frightened crowd of civilians. Drawing six shooters from their waists, the men began to mow down the numerous deputies and secretarial staff. One of the bullets passed through Piper’s forehead, and just like that, she was someplace new.
With a faint yelp of shock, the woman was suddenly in the foyer of the Olde Town Hotel. Taking a few steps forward, she put a hand to her head and tapped her forehead, as if she was expecting there to be a bullet hole. Letting her hand fall back down to her side, she moved toward the massive staircase that dominated the hotel’s grandiose foyer. At the base of the stairs, she turned around and tried to enjoy the majesty that the hotel had fostered during its heyday.
Just like in the Sheriff’s Office, the building was abuzz with life. People were enjoying meals at several small tables positioned next to the large windows that dominated three of the room’s four walls. Like bees in a hive, the members of the hotel staff scurried around, always looking for something to do or someone to help. It was astonishing to see that a place that looked so dead and decayed could have at one point been the nexus of such life.
Unfortunately for Olde Town, most stories don’t have a happy ending.
As Piper looked on, a gang of men in black hats poured into the hotel’s extravagant lobby. It wasn’t until they began to systematically execute everyone in sight that the throng of people panicked. The medic’s eyes went wide as the defenseless civilians began to topple like dominos amidst the flurry of bullets. The redhead clenched her teeth as she moved forward—her face determined to do something to avert this horrible massacre.
“Piper…” a familiar voice called out, prompting the woman to come to a grinding halt. Spinning around, she found herself staring at the young courier, who was—oddly enough—dressed in period garb. He had a confused look on his face as he stared at her. “Piper…wake up!” He shouted as the hotel suddenly began to melt away around Piper.
“No,” she muttered as everything around her started to run together like a beautiful painting doused in turpentine. Turning around, Piper watched as the massacre faded into obscurity and then to blackness.
***
“No!” Piper screamed as her eyes snapped open. With haggard breaths, the woman lifted her head and found herself still in the Olde Town Hotel. Only this wasn’t the gorgeous building it had been in decades passed. This was the derelict that had nearly been consumed in the fires of the siege Kai’s thugs had brought upon the ghost town.
Groaning softly, the redhead tried to move her hands only to find that they were bound behind her back. For the second time in less than a day, Piper was once again a prisoner of one of Kai Demolic’s cronies.
“Piper,” turning her head, the woman saw her young companion, who was chained just as she was. “Are you okay? It sounded like you were choking or something.”
“I’m fine,” the redhead muttered despondently as she let her head hang forward. It was a complete and utter lie, and part of Piper knew that her lethargic tone made that point rather evident. At this point, the redhead lacked the stoicism to mask the depression. She was used to people dying on the battlefield, but this was... different.
"Orion didn't deserve that," she muttered as she tilted her head to look over at Kaden. "He chose to be the better man, and he paid the ultimate price," she added softly as the courier nodded his head. "We have to finish what Szar began...we need to bring the bastard behind all of this to justice," Piper rasped before falling silent.
Quote:Vad's Whimsical Whimsicalisms: Men. Good stuff there.
![[Image: Viper-Mini-Sig-Piper.png]](http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b318/ThundercatsHO/Viper-Mini-Sig-Piper.png)
Nobody can go back and start a new beginning,
but anyone can start today and make a new ending.