dust bowl dance.

JESSE REYNOLDS I placed all my trust at the foot of this hill And now I am sure my HEART can never be still So collect your courage and collect your horse And pray you never feel this same kind of remorse

[lcnerider]

stitchedsantiago:

“Well.” She starts strong, sounding like her mother and grandmother before her as she prepares her little speech. “If you’d like dinner first, I would be glad to make it- but.” She smirks, fussing with her hair to get it to stay up. 

“But, you have’t bring your own liquor if you want it, Jesse.” She looked him over, “And you can drop by any time you feel like it.” She added on, hoping to accommodate him to the best of her abilities. 

Jesse watched as a lock of hair slipped her grasp, falling delicately to her face. Since occasionally playing as a gentleman was a practice of his, he brought a hand up to gently brush it back. The tips of his fingers just grazed her warm skin.  “Missed some.”

Slipping his hand back to his side. “I’m not a drinker, but a good man never turns down a meal.” He’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t flattered to get this sort of attention once more. Admitedly, a life of self-imposed isolation was... Well, exactly what he had expected it to be. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

[lcnerider]

temperancecarlyle:

For you were made from dust, and to dust you will return. Genesis 3:19. 

Curled up in the living quarters of her new home with a book and a hot coffee seldom took precedence over working on the church grounds. After so long of being able to grow wild and free, vines and shrubbery reacted poorly to even the tenderest of hands. Nonetheless, Temperance was resilient; the morning marked her third of this week alone where she had been up and outside long before the sun even dared to shine. Cleaning and scraping away at tombstones of those who had come before her did little intellectually, but it kept her busy and when she watched the town of Tombstone come to life, it was certainly an interesting view.

Sunlight had barely begun to peak over the desert-like horizon; it bathed the ground she worked on in a golden glow that promised another day of hot sun. Yet, a figure casted its shadow across her current masterpiece and it immediately caught the attention of the pastor. “Say, you’re up awful early.” She commented. The voice that trickled out didn’t dare to go much above a forced whisper, somewhat out of fear that anything more would wake the entire town from its slumber. “Can’t sleep? Or are you just doin’ a mighty fine impression of the sun an’ risin’ with it?” A playful grin teased on her lips as she stood, only now deciding that eye-contact was best appropriate to her new companion.

    The crystallizing sprinkles of dew drops on the slm blades of grass clung to the cuffs of his pants as he wandered through the holied grounds. For a reason he scarcely ever lingered on, he found a level of comfort in the stillness of graveyards. It’d become a habit of his to pay at least one visit to the final resting place of people he’d hadn’t met, and the future cradle of those he would forget. A relatively sleepless night game him plenty of excuse to roll from the rented bed of the town’s hotel and amble around. The sun was sneaking up past the crest of the horizon as he came across a woman, plucking and pulling a tombstone free from mother nature’s grasp. 

    Curiously, he scrutinized the graves around them. Some had been liberated, and their prominent stones caught the early morning light. Her soft voice was light in the hush of the morning, which he found soothing. She seemed to be of the kind sort. A personality rarely found these days. “I don’t like wastin’ a sunrise.” His own voice was a rasp, sleep and one too many cigarettes making his version of a whisper rough. He stepped back for her to have ample room to stand. “I ain’t botherin’ you, am I? Looks like you’ve been busy this mornin’.” Again, his gaze meandered to the tombstones around them. He could imagine the time spent here, gently caring for the old headstones. “Real busy.” 

[lcnerider]

stitchedsantiago:

Oh, this? This she could handle. 

“Well, unless you drop by Stitches, nothin’- nothin’ but stitchin.” Raven says, stumbling on her words momentarily. Her hands, covered in tiny scars from needle pokes pull her hair up and back, cooling her neck, and slyly showing off smooth skin. “You seen where the clinic is, right? Right next door.” She tells him, before eyeing him, remembering she should tell this fine gentleman her name in turn.

 “Raven Santiago.” 

   The subtleties of her actions didn’t allude him. The ghost of a smile passed across his face, mouth twitching and betraying the fact that he was once a younger man. Not always so lost in his thoughts, and aimless in his ambitions. “You’re an interestin’ woman, Raven Santiago,” he said, his voice the slightest bit warmer. 

    “Did you want dinner an’ company or just some company?” 

[lcnerider]

stitchedsantiago:

So far, he hadn’t done anything to scare her further, and she relaxed, letting her shoulders drop from their tense position, and she exhales some of her anxiety. 

“I personally don’t do either of those, too much, at leas’.” Raven says, before speaking, though, this is much quieter, and more of a mumble. “Wouldn’t mind doin’ you for fun.” Her already warm cheeks warm further with what she’s mumbled, praying this man doesn’t hear what she just spit out- so she throws out something else in hopes to cover up what she said. “I sew, for fun, personally.” 

    He blinked. Smoke leisurely slipped into the sky from his mouth. Now, he wasn’t old enough to be hearing things just yet, and he hadn’t been in the sun long enough to justify madness. She was young, undoubtedly. Mouse-ish, but bold. There was a curious polarity to her, he found it intriguing. Jesse shifted, taking one last drag of his cigarette before dropping it to grind beneath his boot. 

    “Sewin’, huh?” He wasn’t a young man anymore-- not as old as he felt most days either, but he wasn’t young. After so long of simply being direct, the intricacies of flirting were lost to time. Solemnly, he felt  pang of ache of the days of dancing and joy he briefly stole from others. While older, wiser, and less inclined to give a damn, he supposed he could indulge in something other than reflection. 

    He looped his thumbs in his belt loops, looking out once more to the landscape. “My manners ain’t what they used to be-- my name’s Jesse. What’re you doin’ for fun tonight?”

[lcnerider]

regan--lee:

    while the sight of someone smoking and talking to the empty air wouldn’t normally be cause for lee to pause, they’d gotten a rock in their boot and had to stop anyway. at the comment, lee followed where the stranger’s gaze tracked… the rising slopes that edged smaller canyons to the east, the brush catching the sun’s rays in twisted brambles, the rocks burnished red and gold in the light. 

    they frowned and lifted a shoulder only to drop it again a moment later. maybe he meant the landscape, maybe something else entirely. there was fondness for the place, sure, but they weren’t about to admit that to some lookie loo. ❝ it’s alright. but if you think this place is strange, think I know someone with a horse to sell ya. ❞

    Though not expecting a response, he found it amusing. Funny how he could be so aware and unaware of others at the same time. Maybe that was the result of being a tourist in other people’s lives. “Strange might not of been the right word,” he confessed, his regard switching to them rather than the landscape. 

    “S’more...” He caught the word on his tongue quickly, but mulled it over for a moment. Reflected on what he was feeling in his bones. “Haunted.” Looking back to the scenery he had been taking in. Yeah. Haunted suited it just fine, like an old glove. It was the air, really, the ambience of this podunk little township. Made him feel like he was wading through an older time, taking a trek through a stranger’s memory. Could just be the heat thinking for him. 

    “Y’all are sittin’ on a well of somethin’.” 

[lcnerider]

billiemccall:

“And you enjoy that type of work?” The question could possibly have been phrased better, but Billie didn’t mean any direct offense by it. They had encountered some people who had worked for the Pony Express a handful of times, and numerous times they had not been planning on staying quite long.

“Can’t blame anyone. You allow places to live free enough… people will take advantage.” The blond stated with a slight shrug. It was just a fact of life in the west. People would try to hurt other people. “Decided my time was up in my last place. Decided to look for a new town.”

    “I enjoy the road,” he replied, easily. The Express offered steady work, moreso than picking up random odd jobs. And that was all he needed. There was a calming simplicity in the work-- keep going. 

    He nodded his agreement. “Hard to tell the desperate from the greedy these days, and frankly I don’t care for the distinction.“ The West was pure in a lot of ways like that. People were boiled down in this ungovernable hellstate. No politics, no niceties. There were still liars and crooks, but most people expected that now. “Good a reason as any. Every town starts blendin’ together after a while.” 

[mental-ch-illness]

shoutout to my favorite coping mechanism, isolation

[lcnerider]

stitchedsantiago:

She looks away as quickly as she can naturally manage. He was new and new was scary, when it came to men, at least. 

“…..Good thing I don’ have a thing for bitin’ then.” The words slip out faster than she can think, and her cheeks heat up just as fast as she’s spoken. She flirted here and there with locals, those she knew well enough to not be nervous of, but this here was a stranger, and she wasn’t sure how to gauge how he would react. 

    The suggestiveness of the comment caught him off guard, and he was pleasantly surprised. Not to judge a book by it’s cover, but the little lady seemed to be skittish-- and he got the feeling he was the cause of that.  “I reckon town like has a rather limited pool of interest. Lotta folks don’t know how to do it right,” he responded, bringing his cigarette to his lips again. 

    As he inhaled, he mused about the social atmosphere here in Tombstone, Arizona. He figured it was a like the people-- direct and lively. Fiery, probably. He’d seen the likes of the town’s night life afterall, and what he saw was life. He wondered, idly, if he managed to swing into town close to an event of sorts. They must have festivals and holidays. “What do y’all do for fun around here?” He had to make an amendment: “’Sides get drunk and go cow tippin’.” 

[lcnerider]

cecyflint:

Another laugh. “That doesn’t surprise me. Honest with each other we may be, but this is a town of survivors. You don’t get to a long life trusting strangers just because they tell you to, and very few people blow into this town on accident. So you’ll, uh, forgive our stares and whispers while you walk. We’re no stranger to newcomers, just ones who don’t mean us trouble.”

Cecily eyed him over her cigarette, nearly two-thirds down to the filter now. He looked strong, a little rugged maybe. Dusty. But, hell, that described half the men in Tombstone. She didn’t say it, but if whoever this stranger was decided to make a stay of it she had little doubt he’d find any trouble after a few weeks, when some fresher face rolled into town and the folk around Main Street had something better to ogle at. 

“A word of advice: stop looking over your shoulder like you expect one of us to be brandishing a knife. Makes you look guiltier than you are.”

     “All fine by me, odds are I’ll be out of your hair by the end of this week, maybe next week by the latest.” Despite the initial turbulence, he’s relieved he met her. Though fiery, Jesse always did enjoy the temporary company of those who were frank about their motives and actions. He didn’t care too much for the delicacies of exploring and testing boundaries and sensibilities in conversation, or when entering into a new place. 

    Mildly affronted by her advice, he frowned. More so than he normally does. 

    Sounds like something someone with a knife would say. “It’s my disposition. I just have a shifty mug.” Apparently a sad one as well, considering the comments from the girl he met earlier in the week. This town may just not like how he looked. And there wasn’t much he could do about that. “I’ll try to be less... guilty lookin’. Anythin’ else? Should I not drink the water?” 

[lcnerider]

silascardinal:

   looking up at the man, silas almost imperceptibly squinted his eyes at the new face. but no—it wasn’t new. plenty of people tended to come through tombstone, most of which just wanting a quick little break from the rough and ragged trails they traveled on. so a lot of the faces blended together. from father’s buying candy for their children, to women cooing over the fabrics he kept along the walls to the left once you enter. right about where this stranger—jesse—was in that moment.

   with narrowed eyes, the older male let out a long, slow breath that could almost sound like a sigh if you tilt your head just right. the only comfort in this situation was at least the younger one seemed as uncomfortable as silas felt. that was something, at least. then finally, after staring at jesse in silence for god knows what was probably too long, silas spoke up.

      ❝ in the back. i learned my lesson a while back about keeping it in the front. assholes tend to cut the bags open and stealing it little by little. ❞ he spoke slowly and deliberately, almost as if he thought ignoring who this was would make him go away quicker.

                        it wouldn’t.

   sighing again, silas drummed his fingers against the counter as he straightened up.  ❝ how much do you need? ❞

    The silence stretched on and on, for what felt like hours. Enough time that Jesse could consider some other, implausible options besides going through with this interaction. There was even enough time to muse on this being some sort of cosmic punishment for a past wrong. Most certainly the wrong of confiding in any person, other than his own conscience. 

    Even when Silas spoke, he didn’t do much besides nod. A single, slight nod. There was nothing preventing him from simply... walking out. Silas surely wouldn’t stop him, seeing how he seemed just as thrown by this as Jesse was. The older man didn’t strike him as the type to seek out uncomfortable situations. It was unfortunate that just up and leaving was also a cowardly thing to do. 

    He watched Silas’s fingers for a moment, the scenario playing out before him slipping his mind long enough to make his response a second too late to be casual. “A bag is all.” The door didn’t signal any distractions, no intruders into this stilted encouncer. 

    His mouth moved before his brain could process. “So, you--” he aborted the sentence, uneasy with it’s direction. Finally, he sighed; like a dead man’s last breath. Accepting his fate, he bit the bullet. 

    “Been a while.” 

[lcnerider]

billiemccall:

They hadn’t taken particular offense at the miscue from the man in front of them, but they had found that being direct about their gender to those who had made the mistake had been the most effective way of handling that situation when it came up.

“It’s alright.” They responded with a slight smile. The crossing of their arms wasn’t meant to be a gesture of closing themselves off, it had just always been something that kept them feeling more protected. “This town definitely don’t seem much like the welcome wagon type,”

Allowing their gaze to slide back to the man they were speaking to, the blond raised their eyebrows quizzically. “I’m wondering. What brings you into this particular patch of land?”

   “The Pony Express,” he responded. Knowing full well he was more... mature than the usual crowd they rounded up. The boys they usually hired were just that, BOYS. Young, cocky kids who needed a few bucks. They’d outrun him, yeah, but none seemed to outlast him. Maybe it was something about the hare and the tortoise. Or just the fact that, inevitably, they would fall in love. Either with a person, an idea, or a place. Young and idealistic, ready to give everything to their ambitions. 

    It was almost admirable. Jesse spared them a glance, then let his gaze drift back to the few townsfolk mulling about as they walked. “Can’t say I’m shocked, most ain’t too hospitable these days.” And to his memory, they never had been. Only a fool wouldn’t understand why. “An’ yourself?” 

[preciousjonathanbyers]

[lcnerider]

stitchedsantiago:

Was he- oh he was, wasn’t he? Shit.   “…It’s home.” She countered after a moments hesitation, wringing her hands nervously. The presence of a man that she didn’t know was unsettling, but she had little choice but to talk to him and be polite. “I take it this ain’t your home though, is it?”

    “Far from it,” Jesse replied, eyes distant as he basked in this odd place. Home was no where, now, he reckoned. The road, perhaps. Where he was reared hadn’t been home in decades. “Home is a peculiar word. Or maybe I’m just a little off.” He chuckled; a single, mirthless huff. Turning to her, he noted her nervous disposition. Reminded him of someone he hadn’t thought of in years. “I don’t bite, darlin’. M’all bark.” 

[lcnerider]

lixmatthews:

“The wisest I’ve known.” The old woman would have surely joined the ranks of her ancestors by now. Nostalgia was a dangerous feeling, and Li turned her eyes towards the smoke filled sunset with a strange feeling in her heart. She gave the man a brief, wary smile, before her features fell back into their normal state of placidity. “You can’t spend time in a place like this and not. I’ve seen much of the world - Tombstone seems to stand alone.” 

    “I ain’t educated enough to describe it,” he said, closing his eyes. Ma always told him spirits and devils were abound, and as a boy he’d feared them. As a man, he now suspected she was plagued by her own uncertainty and strife. However, that didn’t mean she was completely wrong. Opening them, he directed his gaze back to nothing, bringing the cigarette to his lips and again taking in the poison that placated him. He let the silence settle before he spoke again, wisps of smoke drifting from his mouth in an exhale. “What brought you here?”

[lcnerider]

silascardinal:

    ❝ been waiting long? ❞ 

  were the first words out of silas’ mouth as he stepped up the small steps leading to his store, a strong brow raised as he took in the appearance of the person standing there. usually he kept the doors unlocked and wide open during the day so people could come and go as they pleased, but considering he was the only one manning the store that day, he decided to lock up for a little bit. he just didn’t trust anyone in this town enough to leave it unlocked and empty, even for fifteen minutes while he went to see to something at the bank.

     ❝ unless you’re not wanting in here, in which case i’d have to ask you to stop loitering in front of my shop. ❞ he requested as he unlocked the tall doors, making a mental note  to clean the panes of glass as he pushed them open and walked in, not bothering to listen too closely to figure out if the figure had followed in or not. 

    Unfortunately for Jesse, he recognized the voice vaguely. A faded husk of a memory came to his mind, and the more he thought, the more he remembered the man who was currently opening the shop doors. By some miracle, maybe the shade that obscured his face, or memories lost to time, or even other’s preoccupation with unlocking the tall doors, he wasn’t immediately recognized. He coughed, voice scratchy when he replied, “Ah, it’s... Not long.” 

    He didn’t respond to the question, his answer instead was his hesitant footsteps after Silas. Silas. Well, he can’t say he expected this. In fact, he was sure of the opposite of this happening. He stared after him, confused, then casually made his way to the farthest corner of the store, hoping the distance would impede the other’s ability to identify him. 

    While he didn’t not wish to see Silas, he didn’t plan on meeting Silas here. Or ever again. Actually, to be frank, he hoped he wouldn’t run into him ever again. Not due to any animosity, but because... that’s how it was. That was normal and how he liked it. But now, his chances of getting out of this interaction were slim to none, he figured as he dawdled at the back of the store, not to mention he didn’t look like an upstanding character. The growing discomfort of this situation was irritating, and he did need to buy things. Bracing himself to buy then get the hell out of dodge, he sought out the horse feed he needed. 

    .... And couldn’t see it. He stepped into a slightly more visible area. 

   “Where do y’all keep the horse feed?” 

[lcnerider]

syniisms:

     it was silent for a while as she, too, stared out at the sprawling land before them. it was truly unlike anything she’d ever seen before, a far cry from the city she’d come from. but she supposed that was what she liked about it, things were different. and different was good. 

     ‘ it sure is, ‘ she replied softly, never taking her eyes off the land for a moment. ‘ nothing like anywhere i’ve ever been, ‘ she then added. of course, sydney had traveled to places beyond the city she came from, though never for long and never anywhere even remotely similar to tombstone. ‘ what about you ? ‘ she questioned, finally tearing her eyes away from the land to look over at him. she was curious, realizing now that she’d never bothered to ask where he had come from in any of their previous interactions.

   “Haven’t seen a place like it,” he responded, eyes distant as they stared off into nothing in particular. The bright sun overheard washed out most of the small details of the land, but he still marveled at the unexpected beauty of it. “Been to a lot of dusty shitholes, but none of them were beautiful. Not this kind of beauty.” An indescriable beauty, an untamed and desperate wonder of land and spirit. 

    Jesse looked to the woman at his side. He knew little to nothing about Sydney, but felt kindred in some fashion to her spirit. He didn’t know why, and didn’t care to figure out why, but there was something unspoken but shared between them. Sometimes you just meet people like that, he supposes. People who you see and simply think, ‘yes, I know’. “You plannin’ on stayin’ here?” 

[sobeef-suchtaco]

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