Chapter 1: And the circle begins again…
Zackary Comstock ran through the vision the angel gave him again and again. It had been weeks since he had made his deal with Rosalind Lutece to help him build his Utopia.
Letuce was a prodigy of time, her theories on how to keep the city afloat were spot on and had allowed Comstock's vision to become a reality.
"Are you satisfied with the effectiveness of the particles in the balloons Mister Comstock?" Asked Rosalind in response to Comstock's intrigued glare towards the floating platform.
Comstock's train of thought stopped as he responded, "Wha-? Yes they are perfect for the city."
"What do you propose we do now?"
Comstock rubbed his beard with his hand, "We need to make this city easy on people, some sort of selling point in a manner of speaking."
"Other than being closer to your lord?" said Rosalind smugly.
Comstock turned and waved his index finger at her, "I will not tolerate your heresy and neglect of God as long as I am present!" One of the annoyances in Comstock's mind was Lutece being an arrogant atheist. She dint share his newfound faith, and to him, never fully comprehend his vision.
"I apologize Mister Comstock, but perhaps we could enlist the help of Professor Jessica Grendale?"
"The mad mechanist?"
"I wouldn't exactly call her mad, but her automatons have been revered by Mister Fink as well."
"Well Fink shares my dream, and he is a righteous man, so his word caries weight when it comes to people."
"Indeed." Responded Rosalind putting her arms behind her back in an intelligent pose.
"Fink suggested another to me earlier today," said Comstock with an interested and suspicious tone.
"Really?" replied Rosalin, raising an eyebrow and placing her hand on her chin, "Who would he recommend and why?"
"He said that in addition to the regulated law to be in the city, I may enlist the help of a personal contractor to guard some assets."
"So an employee of sorts, willing to do some dirty work?"
"Quite, but I have heard of this man before." Comstock leaned on the railing in front of him and looked into the slowly darkening clouds. "He is an honored fighter, and does not ask questions."
"Perhaps we should see him after enlisting the good professor?"
Several weeks later… a dingy saloon in Southern Utah…
Comstock and Lutece entered the saloon and Comstock wiped the sweat from his brow. It was now the midst of July, and the Heat was almost unbearable. Hopefully they could find the man they were looking for and return to the stagecoach where Professor Grendale was remaining due to their dislike of 'bacchanalian actions of testosterone and perspiration' as they had put it.
Comstock scanned the room. In the back right corner was a pianist playing cheerful and gay music (I mean this in the happy definition you homophobes) whilst four men in the back left were playing poker. To the right of the room were tables with men tired, trail worn, and thirsty. Hookers where walking around, offering their services for any who had an ear. Comstock shifted his gaze towards the left side of the room, examining the men sitting at bar the. The bar was surprisingly the quiet side of the room, especially considering the figures that sat at it. The closest one to Comstock was a young deputy, wearing a flannel shirt and dirty dress pants. He was, at greatest, 17 years old. He had the back of his hand on his forehead holding an empty shot glass with his thumb and index finger. Clearly not a drinker, he was probably just hired to replace a recently deceased predecessor and was gaining some liquid courage in the saloon for his new responsibilities. The second stool empty, third at the bar was an emaciated unkept man, he sat with a slant, his dirty grey jacket wrinkled and half buttoned up, his dirty top hat slanted in drunken attempt to hide his hungry gaze at the women of the saloon. Furthest away from Lutece and Comstock, at the end of the bar, sat a man in a worn bistre ( dark brown) duster, a right-handed holster resting on the left side of his gun belt. His boots were covered in trail dust, but in relatively good condition, with only his right boot having a spur. He held a shot in his left hand which rested on the bar, which he stared into seemingly in a trance. Comstock squinted and widened his eyes, trying to get a better view of the man's face that was shrouded by the darkness of the saloon.
Comstock, unable to see the man's face, turned to Lutece, "I believe that that is our man." He said nodding his head in the direction of the man at the end of the bar.
Lutece grunted softly, "Huh, and I thought he was going to be a man of character."
Comstock and Lutece walked across the saloon, ignoring the glares from its patrons. As they approached, the man leaned back and drank his shot clumsily then placing the empty glass down upside down next to a dozen more before putting his head down on his left arm. Comstock looked at Rosalind out of the corner of his eye and caught a glance of her disgusted demeanor towards their potential employee.
Comstock cleared his throat, "Ahem, excuse me sir?" no response, "Sir?" Comstock reached for the man's shoulder.
The man lifted his head, his gaze focused towards the alcohol just out of his reach, "If you wish to keep your fingers straight stranger, I suggest you don't touch me."
"Well then." Said Rosalind smugly.
The man shifted his shoulder and looked back at Lutece, "Lady, when you have been through what I have, you have no patience for manners."
An amused grin shot across Comstock's face for a moment, "Are you Mister Pliskin?"
The man tapped on the bar with his knuckle, gesturing to the bartender, then turning back towards Comstock, "Depends on who is asking."
"I'm Zachary Comstock," said Comstock raising his arm for handshake with no reply from Pliskin, "And this is Doctor Rosalind Lutece."
"Never heard of ya." Replied Pliskin relaxing his shoulders.
"I have of you however, you served in the civil war under the confederacy, and then defected to the north."
"Get your facts straight Mister."
"Well that's what some say, my contacts in the army say that you did defect, but worked for the north as a gun for hire."
"Has a better ring to it." Replied Pliskin sitting up as the bartender poured him another shot, "Now what do ya'll want with me?"
"We would like to hire you long term for your services and opinions of protection." Said Rosalind stepping towards the bar and away from the saloon's riff raff.
Pliskin leaned leaned on the bar, "Call the Pinkertons, those fuck ups do this sorta escort mission bull shit."
"We would rather keep it in a more private position." Replied Rosalind.
"Meaning?"
Comstock leaned on the bar with his left elbow, "Meaning we want only one person with no current affiliation to anyone, and someone who will serve diligently without pause."
"I would accept your offer Comstock, but" Pliskin turned toward him on the barstool. Pliskin had an eye patch over his left eye, his face was angled and tired, he had clearly seen battle. He had two small scars meeting each other to make a sort of upside-down shaped y scar on his right cheek, his hair was black and at medium length, a few strands in front of his face poking out from his hat, which was a worn confederate hat. Comstock looked over him completely, and then noticed… "My right arm had to be amputated below the elbow due to a serious infection." He said raising up his "nub" (he ha nub :p) to show him.
"My god." Exclaimed Lutece.
"Yeah, so I'm going to be very little use to ya'll with my lead spitten hand gone."
"I believe I can remedy that predicament." Said a feminine voice from behind Comstock and Lutece. They moved apart and turned towards the voice.
"I thought you said you would stay in the stagecoach Professor?"
Professor Grendale stood, the light from the door behind her slowly fading as it closed. She had a relatively small physique, standing at 5' 8" with her shoes on. She had long curly blonde hair tied in a loose bun. Her eyes, peering over her glasses on the edge of her nose, were a light auburn that complemented her tattered tan jacket. She had a bag in her hands, which were in front of her. She had a carpenter's apron on over her jacket, which also covered her white dress that went to her ankles, partially covering her black shoes. Her stance and demeanor gave off a sense of intelligence and quiet nature. "I came to see why it was taking you two so long to recruit one man."
Comstock cleared his throat, "Mister Pliskin allow me to introduce you to-"
"First off, call me John, or Pliskin, No mister." Pliskin leaned back in his stool, "And second, I have heard of Professor Grendale before."
Grendale cocked her head to the side, "Oh have you?" she replied sarcastically.
Pliskin shrugged, "At least of your work and reputation."
"Well what have you heard?" questioned Grendale, convinced Pliskin was full of shit.
"Well I know you're a mechanist, and funded by fink industries as a private contractor, produced several designs for animatronic machines. Your advances in helpful machines are known in many circles. I also heard that before the Union dismissed your services after the war you were working on advances in medical applications of your work."
"Well well, you must certainly be in some interesting circles to know all that about lil' ol me." She said with an unimpressed tone.
Pliskin pushed his hat up with his left hand, "it ain't who you know, it's how ya know em."
ABRUPT ENDING! Hello readers! Hopefully you all can become a part of Street Cone Studios' fan base, The Subby Revolution! You see, once you follow SCS (Street Cone Studios), This story or any other story, The writer Lynch (me) on twitter LynchVideos, Or subscribe to the SCS YouTube channel (KBoom x Hangman), you become a Subby a loyal member of the SCS fan community! This chapter that you have just read is not even a finished product! I put out partials or general ideas of chapters a lot of times to get reactions from ya'll. I'm sorry that this is just an idea and not the real thing, but 2 writers with different styles make it hard to agree on things (Especially if one is a guy and the other is a girl!). SO write a review and say what you think, so we here at SCS can make this the best story you have read yet! Also, check out Lynch's primary Fanfic, Borderlands: Before the Dust Settles, if you're a fan of Borderlands or just want to see what you have in store for yourself here. SCS x Lynch, saying welcome and I hope to see more of you all!