AN: Okay so I had the idea of a western Jori and decided to pursue it. I'm only going to do one chapter right now and I'll decide of I should continue it or not based on the feedback I get from you guys, so please feel free to leave a review if you have any constructive criticism or if you like the story. Also, I should mention that in this story, Tori is g!p. If you have any ideas for future chapters that you'd like to suggest, please PM them to me or simply drop them in the reviews. Thanks guys! I don't own Victorious or anything else mentioned here, just the ideas.

Song of the chapter: Diamond Eyes - Shinedown

- Line Break -

The dust was violent, choking, swirling in a savage and relentless storm that never seemed to end. The Arizona sun beat down on her in a single endless ray that could melt the diamonds off a rattlesnake. She hadn't seen a soul in four days and five nights, but then again, few were stupid enough to be outside when it was this hot.

Her hat had long since faded from it's original black to a brown that seemed lighter than it was due to the dust she could never keep off of it. The duster coat that covered her vest was much the same way, always covered in the thin film she couldn't stop.

She pulled her horse up in the shade of a lone tree, dismounting and letting him groundtie as she dug through her saddlebags for some jerky she'd bought in the last town. Finding it she bit off a chunk and began untacking the big stallion. She had decided to sleep the day away and ride at night in an attempt to stay cool enough to continue, even though there were more dangers that way. The risks of day riding in this heat were greater than the risks of sleeping during daylight hours.

She pulled out a rag and began to wipe the foam off his great sides, taking time to admire his beautiful buckskin coat. This horse was her greatest ally, and she had many. She had seem him with his heard when he was only a yearling, riding with a posse of cowboys to capture the gorgeous wild creatures. She had taken this stallion and trained him herself instead of asking for money. That was two years ago, and even with the miles she'd put on him, he was as fast, steady, and reliable as always.

Victoria Vega was a hitman for hire, riding from place to place and picking off the men the lawmen couldn't touch, using her looks as war assets and getting close to the men she 'handled' in ways regular deputies couldn't. She was one of the few women found out here with a .45 on her hip and a .22 tucked inside her duster coat, always loaded, always ready. There was a cross on her saddle horn for every man she'd put a bullet in and a few scars on her horse's flank from a couple of close encounters where she almost became the mark.

She spat into the dirt, watching the dry dust absorb the liquid greedily. Turning, she grabbed her canteen and took a sib before pouring some out into her hat and letting her horse drink. She called him Lakota, after the tribe she met members of in the process of acquiring him. She pulled the bridle from his head gently, caressing his nose in the process. He was a good horse and she held him as her most prized possestion. Without Lakota, Tori meant nothing here.

"We should break town by morning, my friend," she spoke to the horse, who twitched his ears in a way of acknowledgement. "I know you're tired, me too. Once more and we'll be somewhere with meaning and substance, Lakota." The horse seemed to understand and simply relaxed, dozing in the desert heat. She layed out her blanket and, using her saddle to prop her head up, set her hat over her face and slept soundly, dreaming of a real bed and a woman she could hold for the night, something she hadn't had in a very long time.

- Line Break -

The raven haired beauty smiled and ordered another round of drinks. She was already half drunk, but she didn't care. She was ready to have a good time, she'd been working all week on the Mack's ranch, just south of Ronson. She was in the podunk town's only saloon right now, and she'd never felt better than she did right now. She had money for once, and she was nearly ready to buy the horse the livery had been saving all month and head the hell out to the next town. She was nineteen and had been doing this since she was six, moving wherever the world took her. Once her worthless father had died she simply floated around, shooting whatever she felt like eating and stealing horses when she was ready to ove on.

She still had a bounty on her in three states, but here she was safe. At least she thought so.

She had her first denet shirt on since she was born and she was actually clean. She had a bed tonight, so she drank, and celebrated. She was making something from the nothing she'd been dealt and she was damn proud.

Jade West was a woman of rags who was climbing the ladder from a teenage criminal into a talented woman who would be someone given enough time. Her true plan was to ride back to the east a little at a time and become an actress in New York. If only she could get that last twenty dollars..

A thought crossed her mind and she desperately fought off the urge to pick a drunk cowboy's pocket. She was clean now, dammit. She would not go back when she was so close..

She sighed and finished her whiskey, climbing the stairs to her room in the saloon and flopping onto the bed, making sure the revolver under her pillow was ready to fire before she went to sleep, dreaming of the trail to her true place in this godforsaken land.

- Line Break -

Leave a review if you liked it or have any ideas to suggest! Thanks for reading!