frogerus

[frogerus]

Field of flowers the colour of the species blood. Legend says that a war was fought there and the blood soaked into the ground and stained the petals [colour].

Or just generally were misfortune grows

A: “Its beautiful”

B: “Yellow is the colour of our blood”

B: “old warzone, to commemorate the loss”

A: you….i'm sorry you bleed yellow

[frogerus]

i always just find it so funny whenever theres some great being/deity/monarch and every time someone says their name they have to honour them, and its just:

A: *talking* [monarch of country] GLORY TO [COUNTRY]! 

B: GLORY TO [COUNTRY]

A: *talking*

[frogerus]

A: you…you mean you aren't using me?

B: (raucous laughter) HEAVENS NO. What would I even use you for? What can you do?

B: As a stretch a delivery boy, but..hmmm, actually that would be quite nice, do you want to be my delivery boy?

A: NO!

[frogerus]

“Actions speak louder than words”

A single gunshot sounded

However she was shortly proved wrong as his shrieks immediately followed after, which were very much louder than her actions.

[frogerus]

Cowboys n' Britlands

Chapter 1

Tak tak tak tak tak tak. The wheels sped over the tracks, creating a consistent noise that might have been soothing to some, but only heightened his nervousness. Delancy Klavier gripped his suitcase tighter, fiddling with the already frayed blue edge. A source to project his jitters onto. It had only stayed in the overhead compartments for a matter of minutes

Sparing a glance out the window, orange and yellow whizzed past. Cacti, sand, and the occasional rock formation were the only things in sight. It stretched on for what seemed like eternity. Delancy swore he heard an eagle caw. The sun beat down through the window, the corners dusted with cobwebs. If he was being frank he was surprised that they hadn’t caught alight in the sweltering heat. Speaking of heat, the man was currently deeply regretting his choice of clothing. Dressed in typical London attire, the many layers, coats and excessive need to look wealthy was completely useless out here. 

The blue-green walling of the cabin was starting to get dull after seeing it for the past 4 hours. His gaze went back to the window, his leg bounced. A small dust cloud hung on the horizon. There weren’t any clouds in the sky, it was strange, he was so used to cold weather and rainy skies it was...well he was torn between beautiful and appalling. 

The train shuddered and he almost jumped out of his seat. Calm down…calm down...He was fine, there was nothing wrong with the train, it was just his own jittery thoughts. 

Absent-mindedly Delancy started to fray the edge of his suitcase again. Despite his tendency to fray the case, it actually meant a lot to him, so many memories all held in such an insignificant looking box. He smiled fondly at it, from his trips to africa and australia, but those weren;t the real reason why he treasured it so dearly. His late mother had given it to him, knowing of his love for wanting to see the world. She had always been so supportive, even on her deathbed. Oh bloody, this was getting sad. Shaking his head to clear his depressing thoughts. He sighed. No more sad thoughts Delancy said to himself. He would try and enjoy his work trip as hard as it seemed.  

The steady sound of….was that hooves? Surely not, why would there be a horse even remotely near him? It was the Ariznoian desert. Looking around the train carriage he couldn’t see anything. Rising on stiff legs, he stumbled his way to the oak door. Sliding it open he looked up and down the corridor. Like his cabin, the walls were a blue-ish sea green, however the floor was carpeted in a red intricate persian design. No sign of anything that could make a noise akin to a horse. Frowning he looked one last time and went back into his cabin, picking up his case and sitting on his lap again. Delancy’s eyes strayed back the window, the dust cloud on the horizon was gone…strange. Deciding not to think much of it he looked back down. The noise got louder, and he could swear he heard a person cheering in delight. Cheering? No that wasn’t right it was more of a -

“YEEEEHAAAAW!” The exclamation shocked him so bad that he fell out of his seat. Whipping his head towards the sound his eyes briefly met blue, a blue that looked like windex left out in the sun too long.  Wait, the heck is windex? Anyway, he stared at the figure, riding a chestnut horse, cracking his honey brown hip. It took him a moment to make sense of what he was seeing. 

The cowboy rode past, leaving the man in a sense of confusion. I mean it wasn’t totally uncalled for, it was the Arizona desert after all, yet right next to the train line in the middle of nowhere? That seemed strange….Deciding that it was america, and america was weird, he was just going to ignore it. That was his first mistake. Slowly he pulled himself back into his leather seat. It wasn't long before a loud bang erupted from the front of the train, once again knocking Delancy out of the chair. He lay there for what felt like a while, staring up up the ceiling. Some work trip this was. He thought back to the wishful days when he was first given this assignment. 

He worked at a weapon manufacturing company, nothing illegal, as all their work went towards government personnel, armies and whatnot. Delancy was head of engineering. He enjoyed his job, he got to tinker with bits and pieces all day, use new material. He had been sent out to meet with a fellow gunsmith, who was placed way out in arizona. Word had spread of his creations, and the company had managed to get a hand on one of his works. They claimed it had the longest range anyone had ever made. Of course, such large companies wouldn’t just invest in a rumour, after thoroughly testing it out it was, in fact, deemed to have the longest range. Being given to Delancy to take apart and figure out how it worked. Yet….at as much as it shamed him to admit he couldn't even manage to take off the shell, let alone really get into its mechanisms.

After giving in the report he was promptly set off to find the man himself. Which is how he ended up here. Staring. At the ceiling. Regretting all of his life choices. 

Groaning, and rolling onto his side, Delancy threw out his arm, flopping like a detached tentacle, he managed to grab his case. He loved his case. Did he mention that? It’s deep blue case, and gold edges, and the way it smelt like home and -

Another BANG interrupted his thoughts. Grumbling under his breath, he grabbed the seat to pull himself up. Standing, albeit a little shaken, he reached for his hat and trench. Throwing it over his shoulders, he rummaged for his cane. 

Unsure why he was acting as if we wouldn;t return immediately, he opened the door peeking his head out. And was immediately met with whizzing projectiles, only missing his skin by a hair breadth. Rearing back in fright, he, almost, fell right back down. 

Stunned for a few seconds, he blinked a couple of times. Where those…bullets?

Oh no, no no no. He didn’t sign up for this. Nuh uh. Slowly retreating he slides the door shut as quietly as he can. Not today, not today. He sat back down. Sweat beaded on his back, whether from nervousness or just plain heat he wasn’t sure. What he did know, however, was that someone was hijacking the train. Delancy glanced at the window, the train was moving too fast to jump out. Gosh darn. The luggage racks looked too flimsy to hide in, not that he was very heavy, but the thin wiring looked like it couldn't even hold a dog. His eyes darted from left to right. What to do…what to do…his frantic thoughts were interrupted. The door slid open, to reveal the train robber. Green eyes met blue. A tall lanky silhouette of man stood in the door frame. He was leaning backward, a hand on his hip, the other holding a gun. Strangely, he could’ve sworn he heard a background whistle, and the tang of a guitar. His eyes widened with recognition. It was the cowboy he had seen earlier. Now he could see him closer it was obvious he was quite the looker. Longish ruffled blonde hair fell to about shoulder length, topped by his cattleman hat. His lips twisted into a wild grin. He looked well muscled, donned in what looked like the most stereotypical cowboy outfit he’d ever seen in his life. The pants were adorned in tassels, and a red handkerchief hanging from his neck. A single gold earring dangled from his left earlobe.

Delancy opened his mouth to speak only to be cut off by a very southern accent.

 “Howdy partner,” the man looked Delancy up and down, “well don’t you look well off. So if ya don’t mind, why don’t you hand over yur valuables.” Spinning his gun - what model was that? - he thrust it into his personal space. 

Delancy blinked, his brain trying to catch up to the offront on his ears.  His mouth opened and closed a couple of times. “Um…no thank you?” His own crisp accent seemed stark against the Arizonaans. He held his suitcase closer to his chest, gripping his cane with his other hand. It was starting to shake a little.

Taken aback, the cowboy lowered his gun a little. “Ya see that's not usually how this works fella,” His hands moved as he talked, he tried not to be too distracted by it. “I point a gun at your head,” he waved his gun at Delancy. “Yer beg for your life and then- like the very above broad person I am, take ya stuff, and I skedaddle on down.” he looked Delancy up and down again, giving him a sceptical look. “Not…whatever in tarnation this is.” He waved his gun at him again.

It made him worry, it really was a safety hazard. He was holding a weapon of mass destruction for heaven's sake. 

A click - clack, sounded, Delancy’s eyes were immediately drawn to the sound and motion. He had just cocked his gun. He cleared his throat, and pulled at his jabot. Laughing nervously, he started to make his way past him. “Uh-well, it was nice to meet you? But I’ll…I'll be going now.” he gulped and quickly rushed out the door. “Hold your horses Belvidere, where do you think going?” The cowboy said, grabbing his shoulder.

He tried to flinch. “O-out.” Delancy stuttered. He looked longingly back at the door. 

The blonde doubled over. His whole body was shaking with mirth. “That's an apple pie ordered joke ya got there partner.” he let out a bark of laughter. “By ginger you’re a real knee slapper.” 

Delancy frowned in confusion. What was the bloke on about? He was looney clearly. Unfortunately he was a looney with a gun. He looked longingly at the door once more. 

The cowboy must have followed his gaze, as a smirk twisted his lips. “Don’t you even think on leavin’. Now hand over yer valuables and maybe I'll let you live.” He spun the gun in his hand, brandishing the weapon with a flourish. 

Panic was starting to well up in Delancy, there was no escape. Unless…”I…alright sir-”

“None of this ‘sir’ business, do I look like one of you tea drinking high nobles?” His voice filled with pride. “The names Dakota, Dakota Westwood. You’d do your best to remember it.” 

Delancy, restraining the urge to roll his eyes at Dakota's arrogance, started to reach for his briefcase. His face perked up, it was cute if Delancy was being honest. Not that he was, obviously. Slowly, he tentative stepped forward, pulling the briefcase up as if going to open it. Before Delancy could talk himself out of it, he brought the briefcase down on the blonde's head. 

There was a dull thud, and Dakota could only stare at him for a second, before his body crumpled to the floor. Shoving open the half open door, he sprinted into the foyer. From what he could remember he was in cart 4. There was a back exit, but he was pretty sure it was locked from the inside. Quickly deciding that he would manually have to stop the train he ran down the corridor. His brain was working over time. He couldn't hear or see any other people, either meaning they were dead or already found a way out of the train. It was still speeding down the tracks, but there was no security whatsoever. That ruled out the conductor. 

Delancy had already made it through three more carts, almost there, almost…

His hand outstretched for the hand, he threw himself at it. Before his hand could make contact with the metal handle of the door his entire body was wrenched back. 

His mind clouded with confusion, but one thing was clear. He couldn't breathe. A meaty arm was pressed against his neck, cutting off his air ways. His legs thrashed as he tried to get out of the man's grasp. He hated it, he hated being touched by people he didn’t know. His main concern though, was the lack of air. Because, as one knows, breathing is nice. Unfortunately, Delancy wouldn’t exactly describe himself as the strongest….or strong in any sense of the word. 

Ever since he was small, he hadn’t been very powerful. He was often picked on by other kids. For most of his school life he was beat up and bullied, until he moved out of Russia and into England. It was shortly after his mother had died, and his father had been called away for work. He had always wondered what it would be like if his mother were still alive. Wondered if he would still be back in Russia. Sometimes he misses his mum. She had left him before she had died. Only the occasional weekend visit. Delancy never knew what her profession was, only that she was always busy, away from home. Most of his memories were pretty blurry. As Delancy grew he started to see her less and less until she had completely vanished from his life. When she initially died, Delancy couldn’t help but wonder if it was his fault she left. It's Delancy's fault why she died alone. 

Soon he would die too. His lungs were screaming for air, and he wanted to throw up at the other man's contact with him. His feet stopped kicking, and he could feel his briefcase slipping out of his fingers. The world was fading to black, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

Delancy caught sight of blond hair and green eyes. Maybe he wouldn't help him. Unlikely but hey he was dying he was allowed to have delusional thoughts. Using the last of his strength, Delancy wheezed out a “Please…” 

Suddenly he could breathe again, the meaty arm had let go. He didn't feel his body thumping to the floor, only heard it. His vision swam. But he could breathe. Breathing had never felt this good. Golly gee oxygen was such a blessing. Dragging in ragged gasps of hair, he started to regain consciousness of his surroundings.

A face came into his vision. Not the face he wanted to see but at least he could see now. He weakly raised a hand, going to shove the person out of the way. It came off as a light slap. 

“Move…” The word came out warbled and raw. He coughed and cleared his throat. “Move.” This time he was able to properly shove the man's face out of his field of view. 

Clambering to his feet he surveyed what was happening. On one end of the train was Dakota, his gun cocked and pointed at three men. Two of them were tall, almost 2 metres, and the other one was an absolute midget, barely scraping the 150cm mark. The two meaty men each have a shotgun each. It could have been comical if I wasn’t wedged in between the opposing sides. I tried not to let out a whimper. Why was this happening to me?

Delancy couldn't do much in a fight but he could negotiate. “Now gentlemen, why don’t we settle this like civilised humans.” AS soon as the words left my mouth, regret bloomed in his stomach. It was a perfectly normal plan that would work right? Wrong. These people were not perfect or normal in any sense of the word. Unfortunately Dakotas perfectly toned arms couldn’t make up for his lack of normalness if almost did though.

All four turned to him “Shut your pan.” 

Delancey promptly shut his mouth. Their showdown continued. 

“Alrighty partner,” Dakota’s usual grin was nowhere to be seen. “I found this train first, finders keepers.”

“Didya now?” The midget replied sarcastically. “We only need you, the rat doesn’t need to live now do they?” A twisted smile spread across the man's face. The two goons pointed their guns at Delancey. He stared down the barrel of the gun. Oh. I’m the rat. 

“NO!” The sound came from behind Delancy. Whipping his head back towards the sound, he was surprised it was the cowboy. Blush tinted the blondes cheeks. He cleared his throat. “Hold ya horses.” The midget raised his eyebrows. “Ya see, this man may look like a rat, but he comes from some top dogs back in the old country. Catch ya a hefty price.” he nodded, and spared a glance at the brit. 

What is he doing? Delancy frantically thought. 

Panicked, Delancy turned back to the midget. He could see the man thinking it over in his head. He motioned to the goons, and the three engaged in a fierce whispering match. It seemed they came to an agreement, as the hulking men started to walk closer towards them. Before he could move the man was looming above him, his shotgun raised. Cold metal swung down, bringing the world to black.

Tell me what you think, first time posting my writing, and feedback is appreciated.