Read on, happy bandits!
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Charlene's Tavern -- 12 iles East of AugustaMidvalley sat hunched over the bar emptying the last few drops from a bottle of whiskey. The sound of his band running through a few riffs, and the drunken banter found in every bar, tavern, and saloon across Gunsmoke pounded his eardrums.
He slammed the empty bottle down and ran a hand through his slicked back hair, tuning out the noise as best he could.
He hadn't been feeling like himself lately. Under normal circumstances, he'd be tweaking his favorite number with his band, joining in the drunken banter, or flirting with the local ladies and propositioners.
But not tonight.
Tonight, and the night before... and the night before that, and every night since he'd gotten to this run-down town, he had felt as though he was being consumed by worry, guilt... and liquor.
He let the hand in his hair slide down and work a kink out of his neck.
What on Gunsmoke should he have to worry about? He was Legato's right-hand man.... One of Knives top henchmen... which undoubtedly meant he didn't have much time left on this planet. He'd seen what had happened to those who hadn't taken down Vash. It wasn't likely that he'd do much better.
He could always back out. Go back to his wild nights filled with jazz, liquor, and women... But that wasn't much different than what he was doing now, and it wasn't his style to give up like that. Not to mention he knew what would happen to him if he backed out on Knives now. Hell, he'd be lucky if they didn't punish him for just thinking about it.
The Hornfreak didn't feel he had much to claim guilty for as of yet. He'd taken the lives of only a handful of men before he'd met Legato, and hadn't taken too many more, since. He didn't feel but a single pang of guilt for those he'd killed. All of the dirty bastards had deserved to be filled with lead.
The child, however, did not deserve such a fate.
He didn't feel guilt for what he did. It was his job. Simple as that. What he felt guilt for was just the opposite. The act of creating life.
Ever since he'd met that short gal in December, he'd felt guilty for even flirting with other women. Sometimes for even looking at other women.
He cursed himself for becoming so infatuated with a woman he hardly even knew. She had taken over his mind, inhibiting from going about his normal activities... Even Sylvia couldn't make things right.
He wanted to play for her, not the countless women the music attracted.
Every time he stepped off a bandstand or stage, women would flock to him like Thomases to a waterspout. Buying him drinks, offering cheap words of flattery, and what they hoped to be seduction. Running their dirty hands over his face, and marring Sylvia's beautiful bronze finish with their greasy fingerprints.
They would press themselves against him, and blow in his ears, hoping to warrant a night in his hotel room, to no avail.
He didn't want the sleazy women he attracted night after countless night in the bars. He wanted a real woman. One with a head on her shoulders... not just a cheap girl who'd spend a couple of nights in bed with him, and then be on her way. He wanted someone with a touch of class... one who would stay by his side.
But what was he thinking? He'd never find a girl like that... at least, not one who would even consider giving him the time of day. He was stuck with the prostitutes of Gunsmoke for life.
Filled with the brutal sense of defeat, Midvalley decided it was time to leave.
Tossing some money on the bar, he rose to retrieve his horn, and seek refuge from the ear-splitting noise of Charlene's Tavern.
He faintly heard a few members of his band call out to him as he pushed his way through the swinging doors of the tavern, but chose to ignore them, turning up the dusty road to his hotel, instead.
A dim light was shining through the window of his room; meaning Legato was still up. He really didn't feel like dealing with that man tonight. Legato would undoubtedly ask innumerable questions about where he had been, and what he'd been doing. Questions he didn't feel like answering.
"Where were you?"
"At the tavern, drownin' myself in booze. What's it to you?"
"You know we have plans to go over. You should have been here, Midvalley."
"Yeah, well, I had betta' things to do..."
"Such as the women downtown? ...Or that one back in December?"
He'd smirk, knowing just which buttons to push, and when, to get the biggest rise in Midvalley's temper. Knowing all the while there was nothing the Hornfreak could do about it.
He'd smile that infuriatingly sagacious smile of his, chuckle from deep within his throat, and tell Midvalley not to lose his temper... reminding him that the part of the violent, brutish monster, with the rage of a rabid dog that had been teased and starved all its life was not in his job description. Knives forbid the Hornfreak ever lose his cool, as a jazzman.
Midvalley sighed, and continued his walk past the hotel. He made his way through town, out into open desert. Nothing ahead of him but rock, sand, and the steep drop-off of a cliff to his right.
He paced outside of the small town for a while, thinking of everything he shouldn't have been... and then, to take his mind off his troubles, big and small alike, he tried to think of a good excuse to give Legato for his absence that night.
Unable to think of anything better than, "I didn't feel like having you invade my thoughts all night," he sat at the edge of the cliff and played his emotions out, loud, and as fast as possible one moment, quiet, and sensual the next, with no in-between.
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"That's some beautiful music you have playing, Millie." Meryl commented as she walked into the girls' hotel room.
"Oh, I'm not playing any music, Sempai. That's coming from outside!" Millie smiled at Meryl, as the petite woman removed her coat.
"Hmm... really? It's amazing." She walked over to the open window and leaned on the sill, staring up into the night sky. She closed her violet eyes for a moment, letting the wonderful feeling good music always brought to her, course through her veins.
"That's a saxophone, right?"
"Yes... Tenor... My favorite...." She opened her eyes, and their gaze rested at the top of a cliff just outside the city where she and Millie were temporarily lodged.
She could just make out the silhouette of a man upon the cliff, when she squinted...
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