Eastern Encounters of the Third Kind [CVU Closed RPG IC]

Texas: 1895

Fletch was laughing the whole way through the prairies, tugging on that rope tight which was bound to his bounty. Floyd Johnson, wanted murderer and thief was tied to the end of the dead man's rope. His horse clopped into town, firing off a bullet to announce his presence.

"Ahahaaaa! You stupid son of a bitch. Caught takin' a massive shit everyone! Outhouse and all!" Fletch could barely stay on his black horse from laughing so much. His chameleon arc remained off in this time, using his looks for fear as "The Burnt Man". A bedtime story.

"Son of a thousand whores, burnt man! I spit on your grave!" Floyd shouted as he was dragged to the Sheriff's office. Fletch merely smirked, kicking the piece of shit right in the teeth. "Shush shush shuuuuush Floyd! Save your strength. They don't feed smeg's like you well in the cells!"

The burnt man strutted over to Sheriff Wilson, clapping his hands. "That would be three hundred dollars, copper..." Fletch had a grin as big as the border on his horrid face.

Wilson with a staunch face slapped the money in Fletch's hands. Which he promptly kicked open the saloon doors open. "Drinks are on me, ya smeg eaters!" Fletch cheered along with the patrons, chucking the money on the counter.

"The treaty of Versailles!"

The joyful Time Keeper shouted loudly towards Fletch, the professional time criminal companion who often bumped into him or vice versa. "Have we done that one yet?" Raising a glass the Herculean time traveller smashed it back down, spilling a literal jug full of whiskey back onto the table as it mysteriously refilled itself - a virtue of his time distortion abilities.

Kicking the seat opposite him open the traveller gestured for the undead companion to sit, they would have matters to discuss. Many matters indeed. The Wild West was about to encounter a different kind of alien than the Time Keeper, one far less heroic or joyful. If unchecked they could spell the end of the United States as history new it. But of course, the Time Keeper and Commander Harvey Fletcher were on scene to stop it.

Waiting for his ally to take a seat, he leaned back and folded his arms, feet raising and resting upon the table.

"Playtime is over my friend. I have detected an anomaly radiating from this place." He quietly looked around and then dropped his feet to the ground, leaning in, resting upon his elbows. "I fear they are not from this world."

The ancient man squint. "And this time I'm certain that it isn't just an alien fairy."

A waitress came over, offering Fletcher a choice of multiple drinks who the Time Keeper had already pre-purchased. The Norse looking alien turned to her with a smile, "have you seen anything strange?" His eyes drift to Fletch, but then back to her. "Aside from him..."

@pyrogram:

Fletch was cackling like a hyena after a few shots, his companion providing constant humor to laugh at. "Versailles was a dog's age ago ya smeg head!" He grinned while kicking back in his seat. The dead man had his longcoat draped open, presenting his cavalry sword for everyone to see as a warning not to mess with him, or his good friend.

He double took the Keeper, his mood changing from boisterous to serious at the snap of a finger. "Hm. I have seen plenty of missing posters nailed up against the saloon. Maybe whatever it is, it's hostile." Fletch whipped out his temporal compass, flipping it open to detect any other time distortions that weren't the duo.

@thepuzzler:

The waitress walked off as soon as she saw Fletcher's face, knowing it was pretty weird even for the Wild West. The Time Keeper himself kept his arms folded, leaning back again and humming to himself in thought. "...Maybe," hostile was an overused term in the travellers books. Maybe they were kidnapping people to... Have a party? Ask how to make cakes? Or some other non-cynical or evil scheme. Oh, how he hoped. The Wanderer gestured for Fletch to let him use the compass for a second, wanting to extrapolate his own data using it's abilities. "Did I ever ask where you got that thing?"

@pyrogram:

Fletch had a rather different outlook on their adventures. Instead of optimism, his was the promise of violence and action, filling in the void that their lives were truly meaningless. Also being alive for over 300 years tends to make the need for thrills greater and greater.

He chucked his compass into the Keeper's hands, refilling his glass. "Worked with a crew of space pirates for a while there. After I got bored I finally just chose to take their tracking tech and split before the coppers put their spree to an end. I mean, could you blame me? Look at it! It's an old timey, high tech temporal compass! Doesn't get better than that shit right there." Fletch laughed, downing another shot.

"Whatever it is, better have it's share of loot.." The time rogue winked, having a knack for plundering gadgets and goods from exotic times.

"Remind me why I ever agreed to travel with you again?"

The Time Keeper looked up and winked sarcastically, before looking down at the compass and giving it a little shake.

"It's a nice piece of tech, if I can just..." the compass suddenly started going haywire, metal inside spinning 360° again and again as though it was broken. Once again, he shook it. This time the dials going dead still and pointing directly west, the compass itself almost trying to drag the Time Keeper there too like a slight magnetic attraction. He looked up at Fletch with a smile.

"A nice bit of Time Keeper Turbo-Boost. Last time I amplified technology I think I was on the titanic..." he didn't say anything else, merely biting his tongue and coming to stand up, throwing the compass back towards Fletch. "After you. I'm pretty sure it'll lock onto the nearest non-human lifeforms who isn't us."

Unknown to the Time Keeper, it would lead them to a race even older than humanity...