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It was early sundown in Townsville.
Despite the name, Townsville wasn’t much of a popular place to begin with. Just a small desert town located in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere, surrounded by cacti and sand as far as the eye could see. The occasional chatter in town made the place seem much more pleasant in comparison to the harsh land around it.
It was a home to the townsfolk, an Oasis to the average traveler.
To Butch however…
This was the spot he loved most.
His figure stalked across the town, the setting sun only highlighting his broad shadow across buildings. He tipped his hat lower, letting it shade over his eyes, a sort of protection from the light still peaking above the horizon. His wandering figure passed by a wall covered head to toe in wanted posters. Flyers ranking from common bandits to high class thieves, each having a handsome reward to their name that only went up with each passing poster.
That included four posters. The most noticeable carrying a sketch of an ape like creature that carried a calculated stare. The drawing itself was made quickly, almost half hazardly. Under it rested three separate posters. Three bandits that carried almost bug-eyed expressions, a rather uncanny detail to have if you ignored the humanoid ape.
In bold letters each poster carried the words
Brick, Butch, Boomer
Wanted Dead or Alive
With an astonishingly large number for each individual bandit, including their leader Mojo the Kid.
Butch grinned once he spotted the poster with his face, the artist barely even managed to get a clear view of his face yet he could still tell who it was supposed to be. It only made him tip his hat further, covering his face from anyone’s view.
Brick had warned him about going into town. Especially when the law was still on their tail. But truthfully, he knew that was just Brick projecting Mojo’s words onto him. For a reckless leader it was clear he didn’t truly believe what he was spewing out. Besides, he needed a drink.
Bursting through the saloon doors he was quickly greeted by a rather rowdy sight. Nightfall meant that the local saloon would be much more crowded than usual, perfect for him if anything. Men drank and laughed together, Townsfolk talked about tales of recent bandits while newcomers listened in awe at the town’s surprising crime rate. Butch made himself at home, finding a free spot near the bar before taking a seat.
The saloon itself seemed old and dingy, clear it had gotten a bit rough over the years. Oil lamps were cracked, a few flickering in poor attempts to stay lit. Floorboards had holes that waitresses dodged with ease while a few drunk men were unlucky to fall into them. What caught his eye the most was a small notice board with events the saloon held.
A few posters carrying criminal sketches littered the board, but a small poster mentioned a performance this night. It wasn’t something he’d be all too interested in though. The posters only reinforced his need to keep hidden, tilting his hat slighlty before flagging a waiter down for a glass.
The night wore on and Butch had begun to get a bit more tipsy than when he first entered. His gaze occasionally followed the waitresses working around the saloon. The ruff bandit could be charming — especially much more confident than usual when drunk — but he wasn’t exactly a professional when it came to the average dame. Only managing to flash any (un)lucky waitress his way his best attempt at a wink. Even then it only turned out to be more of an awkward blink accompanied by a lopsided grimace.
It was going wonderfully. If he did say so himself.
Blinking half hazardly, Butch managed to get a quick glimpse around the room. A lopsided grin decorated his face as he did.
Patrons around him seemed to be loosening up as time went by as well. Rowdiness simmered down to a casual chatter between men and personal attempts at swooning the other girls working around. A few seemed to be flattered at the very least. That was much more than Butch could really achieve.
Amongst the men and strangers he could barely make out a figure hidden away at a table far in the saloon’s corner. She had dark raven hair and a dull green dress, her back was turned to him which made it hard to really make her out. It wasn’t like his vision was helping him all that much etiher. He squinted, something about her seemed odd in a way he couldn’t quite grasp.
But he was barely allowed any time to think when he suddenly felt a mass hit him from behind. A drunken patron had bumped into him, causing his delicately set up glasses of whiskey to topple over the bar, spilling the addictively harsh flavor over the old wooden surface.
It wasn’t all that important, really. He could always just order another drink to replace the toppled glasses. But letting some rando off the hook wasn’t his kind of style.
Besides, it served as a mighty fine excuse to start a brawl.
”aye!” He called out, standing up fast enough to push his chair back with a scraping sound. “You bastards spilled my whiskey over the table!”
“I’ll get you another round.” The man called back, waving him off with a dismissive turn of his hand.
”Another round ain’t gonna cut it, buddy!” Butch stepped forward, a surge of strength hitting him as he pushed the much larger man. “For your information, I was drinking that! And I ain’t gonna let you just toss it out like nothing!” He jabbed his mitt forward, poking the other man’s chest.
“Are you threatening me, kid?”
The man stood taller. Despite Butch’s size he was still considerably shorter than this stranger, a bit of a downside if he was just any other man.
”maybe.” He spat back, “and don’t call me ‘kid’ you bastard!”
He stood closer nearly causing the other to stumble back. A few patrons around the bar seemed to notice the commotion, quieting down to listen in on the drama. A few others, mostly the intoxicated bunch, merely continued on their chatter in blissful ignorance.
The stranger clenched his fist. Butch followed the motion with his eyes, his own mitt reaching down to the holster of his gun.
Surely Brick wouldn't mind if he played dirty just this night.
His mitt grabbed hold of the polished wooden handle of his revolver.
he could certainly handle a scolding from Mojo.
Just as he was about to act a dazzling beauty stood beside him, she held a wooden tray of drinks. Her baby blue eyes being a rather captivating sight in a desert like this. It caught his attention much faster than he’d like to admit. His hold on his weapon wavering significantly.
The dame herself had long blonde hair. The majority of it was curled in a way that framed her fair skin, the other half was tied back into a neat ponytail with a quail feather sticking out the tie. Her gold hair was about shoulder length.
Not that he was paying attention.
She wore a blue corset over a thin black dress that covered most of her well upholstered body down to the ankle, soft cotton outlined the hem of the dress. Part of it opened on the side to expose the length of her leg which was covered by a matching black pantyhose. It was a sight for sure, it matched the rest of the waitresses, but that particular feather in her hair made her all the more different.
That was excluding the rest of her.
He pulled his hand away from his gun, “Can I help you?” He stammered out, suddenly feeling a bit skeptical of his original plan.
The blonde looked over at him and the man he was close to brawling, “I couldn’t help but notice the commotion.” She chirped, her voice high pitched yet still rather charming. “I just wanted to make sure nothin’ drastic was goin’ on.”
Butch’s eyes wandered over to the girl, suddenly realizing how many people were really in the saloon. Somehow, she helped him get a sense of reason back for just a second. Pulling a gun out and starting a brawl might’ve gotten him more than just a scolding from Mojo.
“Nothing was going on.” He huffed reluctantly. “Suppose I got a bit carried away.”
He humorlessly chuckled, shrugging at the man he’d just been ready to beat for little aggravation whatsoever. The man merely huffed, pushing past Butch with a harsh collision to his shoulder. The bandit merely sneered, stepping back from the situation.
”fella knocked my glass over a second ago.” He explained to the waitress that still stood next to him. Much to his surprise.
The lady nodded along, holding up her tray of drinks. “Could I offer you a refill?”
His eyes darted to the glasses. Silence overcame him as he flickered from her face back to the tempting collection of drinks.
“I’ll take you on that offer.” He smirked, tipping his hat, “if only you could get me a drink.”
She smiled, less of a wooed smile and more like an attempt to hold back a laugh.
”I mean.” He winced, leaning back in his seat. “Only if you’d join me for a drink?”
Butch flashed his best attempt at a smile, which only came out as an awkward grimace once more.
“I appreciate the offer.” The blonde answered back her mitt coming out to pour him a new glass of whiskey. “But I’m not supposed to drink on the job.”
His brows furrowed at the words. He never heard of saloon girls turning down a drink, but he was far too captivated to question it at the moment. Maybe it was just something this saloon did. “I see.” Was all he managed to sputter out, quickly reaching for his glass to take one large gulp.
The glass in his mitt hit the table with a thud. A silent signal for another refill. The blonde hovered over him, tipping the bottle over the rim of the glass for a neat fill. Butch watched her silently, his eyes roaming her figure. Something about her felt strange as well. Something he couldn’t make out without his head throbbing from the alcohol.
”What’s your name?”
He tilted his head back, almost testing to see if a new angle helped his thinking. “And I don’t mean your stage name.” He clarified before she could answer his first version of the question.
She went quiet for a second. A second Butch couldn't help but notice.
”Bubbles.” She answered, the cheeriness in her voice reluctant. Yet it didn't seem all too odd for him at least not for his currently fuzzy mind. “What about you?”
It was an equivalent exchange, he thought, her name for his.
“Butch Morningstar.” He smirked, tilting his hat back to give her a better view of him. His body further slumped back into his chair, unknowing of his current mistake.
He watched as Bubbles turned her gaze to the wall beside him. His own gaze turned back to the bulletin board settled with various wanted posters he spotted earlier. His eyes barely managed to make out a certain poster with a certain familiar face on it.
“That ain’t me.” He pointed at the poster, shaking his head with little fervor. “Just some other… numbskull.”
Butch followed her gaze toward the wall again. “I don’t look like that.” Was all he managed to mutter under his breath, squinting at the flyer again.
The blonde’s eyes focused back onto his tossed over glasses. She reached out and took some of the cups back onto her tray, neatly stacking them. “A crazy coincidence then” she chirped, her smile coming back onto her pretty face.
”Yurp!” he hummed, raising his new filled glass. “Coincidence!”
Just as she was about to turn around and leave he quickly reached out and tapped the table to get her attention. Once her baby blue eyes were back on him he smiled. “This one’s for you since you can’t accept a drink.” He lifted the cup in his hand and drank it down in one gulp, earning himself a giggle from the lady.
“I’m honored.” She giggled, placing her mitt to her chest.
Butch held up the glass to her again for another refill, which she complied to. The glass of the bottle and miniature cup clinked, letting the cup fill with the auburn drink once more. He flashed her a lopsided grin which she returned with her own pretty smile before walking off.
He watched her go, smacking his lips together in an unconscious motion. His eyes followed her as she left for the saloon’s staff door, momentarily catching on the figure he spotted in the corner earlier.
The lady in green’s gaze also followed Bubbles her hat tipping lower.
Something about this place was calling out to him in a way he didn’t quite understand. Yet the fuzziness in his mind was far too pleasant to dig into it now.
It was about midnight now, or at least he assumed so?
Butch was hunched over the bar with his face resting on the old wood and sticky residue of the tossed over whiskey from earlier. It wasn’t that he was drunk. Okay, maybe he was. But he was significantly tired than drunk. More like tipsy if you asked him.
The saloon itself had also calmed down. Many men from before had left for home, a few of the drunker folk stayed behind.
Even the saloon girls stood around chatting about now that there were less customers waiting for them. The few that were still present were too caught up in their own drunken world.
He couldn’t help but look over at the saloon girl’s section, hoping to catch a glimpse of that blonde beauty from earlier.
A soft creak of old wood sounded from behind him, followed by the quiet ring of metal spurs emanated ominously.
It came up slow at first before the sound progressively got louder and closer. Butch barely had any time to register what was happening before a mitt clamped down on his shoulder, whirling him around in his seat before finding him face to face with a masked man.
”Aye!” He called out, swatting the man away, “back up you—“
The masked man slapped Butch across the face, warranting a harsh hiss but still snapping some sense into his foggy mind. “Butch, what on god’s green earth are you doing here!?” Brick scolded, keeping his voice at a low whisper. His bright red eyes being the only thing Butch could make out behind the bandana.
“Im having a drink!” Butch responded, sitting up to the best of his capabilities. “And no need to smack me across the face!”
“I specifically told you to stay away from this place!”
“So what?” He shrugged in return, leaning back to play with his empty whiskey glass. “You never really care, you go against Mojo’s wishes almost most of the time.”
Brick facepalmed, “You don’t understand, you numb-nut! We have to get out of here, you’re lucky you weren’t caught.”
”hold on.” The green eyed bandit lifted his mitt, silencing his brother. “Let me say goodbye to Bubbles.” He hummed, standing up and waltzing to the back.
”There’s no time to say goodbye to whatever lady you met!” His brother hissed, gripping his arm tighter, causing Butch to stumble slightly. “I said we have to leave now!—“
A whizzing bullet rushed past them, barely missing its mark by barely an inch.
A clear warning shot.
The sound seemed to bring Butch to his senses significantly more than the slap. His and Brick’s head whirled around to catch the figure who shot at them.
The lady that Butch had noticed sitting in the corner just hours earlier stood up her hair curled around her face, hat tipped just low enough to catch the color of her lime green eyes. A wide smirk decorated her face, lowering the gun down. “Well, well if it isn’t my favorite pair of bandits!”
Brick scowled, “Buttercup.”
Her hand cocked the rifle once more, a soft clicking sounding from the weapon. “You know the drill, surrender or—“
Brick whipped out his own gun, a sawed off shotgun that rested on the holster near side back. With little hesitation he pulled the trigger, firing its bullets almost immediately.
The lady seems to dodge almost instantly, a super human speed that Butch almost couldn’t believe. An energetic grin crossed her face. “Good enough.”
Her rifle lifted once more, prompting Brick to yank a large circular table from its place before turning it on its side. A makeshift shield to the bullets.
Butch was still a bit dazed, standing there for a second like a sitting duck until Brick pulled him behind the table.
“Keep your head in the game, Butch!” Brick snapped, flinching slightly as a bullet penetrated the wooden surface of the table.
“right, right.” Butch nodded, his hands fumbling to his own holster to retrieve two identical revolvers.
The perks of being a rowdy bandit.
he flicked open the chambers. Each gun had a full house of bullets inside. perfect. He clicked the gun’s closed once more.
a soft white glow emanated from engravings on each gun. It was something special to their individual weapons, they were created by unconventional means anyway.
Butch peaked from over the table, both revolvers spinning in his mitts before ultimately stopping once the handle accommodated in his hand. He smirked, pulling the trigger as he shot multiple bullets at Buttercup.
The sheriff herself quickly kicked her heel into the rickety saloon floorboards. The worn wood shot up, blocking most bullets from hitting her on impact. She poked out from behind the board, lifting her rifle to aim directly at Butch.
She pulled the trigger, the bullet rapidly approaching the bandit. He yelped, ducking down far too fast. His hat was left in the dust, taking a bullet that pierced a hole straight through the leather.
“HEY!” Butch called out from the table. “That was a good quality hat, woman!” He reached out from the table, firing more shots at the sheriff.
Brick finished reloading, cocking his gun as he peaked from out the table. His eyes caught onto the beam Buttercup was hiding against, a smirk crossing his face. With a pull of his trigger a bullet sounded, breaking off the wood from the side of the beam. Splinters fell everywhere, a wince coming from the raven haired girl.
She fixed her own gun, shooting quickly and briefly grazing Brick’s arm with a bloodied shot.
Bullets weren’t usually a danger, unless it was from their own overpowered weapons.
“Gah! Dammit!” Brick cried out form the shock, his hand reached out to touch the wound. It was barely a scratch, but it still hurt like hell.
Butch ducked down to reload, his eyes scanning around he room for any means of an escape.
from afar he could barely make out some of the other patrons backing away from the fight, saloon girls hiding in the saloon’s backrooms with only a brave few peaking out from inside. One of them being the pretty blonde girl from earlier, Bubbles.
He swallowed nervously, his eyes suddenly catching on the lady. Despite already reloading he still didn’t get back into battle. Instead he turned over to his brother. “Cover for me, will ya?”
“Cover for you!?”
Butch barely gave his brother any time to stop him before he sprinted away from their hiding spot. Buttercup was quick to notice, aiming her rifle at Butch.
Brick quickly intervened, aiming her way and shooting a round of bullets from his gun. The sound altered her, causing her to dodge the attack and return fire while Brick hurried to refill his ammunition.
Butch stumbled toward the Saloon’s backroom, nearly bumping into the blonde beauty herself. She stepped back in surprise.
“Hey.” Butch chirped, a wonky smile on his face. “Apologies for the saloon.”
a gunshot rang out, accompanied by the sound of wood splintering behind him.
”and for the furniture.” He added. “I didn’t expect to brawl on my day off.” Butch tipped his hat to her, leaning against the doorframe in his best attempts to be charming despite the sounds of gunfire behind him.
“It’s fine?” She muttered, her words being less of a statement and more confusion.
“Say, If you’re free in the next few days…” he trailed on, keeping his gaze on her as if testing the waters. “I invite you to a drink. Maybe?”
Bubbles blinked, a vacant expression on her face.
”Maybe when the saloon doesn’t look to have been gunned down?” He added, hoping she’d accept the offer.
She couldn’t help but let out an exasperated chuckle, the situation was a bit unbelievable, but she had to admit he was charming.
”Maybe?” She shrugged. Unsure of what to say besides agreeing.
His eyes instantly lit up, a smug smile on his face. “I’d say we should get a drink somewhere outta town then,” he stood up straighter, still leaning on the doorframe. “This sherif might have it out for me.”
“BUBBLES!” Buttercup yelled out, snapping her sister out of her daze as she looked behind Butch. Her sister gesture to her dress, signaling Bubbles to join in the firing. She looked down at the strap on her thigh, a small pocket knife and a pistol rested there. It was clear he was a bandit, an outlaw she needed to imprison, but in the moment…
She seemed to forgot about it.
“BUTCH!” Brick called out as well, almost at the same time as Buttercup. His head snapped toward the sheriff, noticing her distraction from the battle. He quickly darted out, pushing Butch out of the doorway and further into the saloon’s backroom.
Bubbles stepped aside, her hand reaching out to the holster around her thigh. She had a clear shot at subduing them. Yet she couldn’t help but hesitate for a second.
“Enough harassing the lady!” Brick called out, tugging Butch by the scruff of his bandana, “window, now!”
“I’ll be seeing you later!” Was all Butch managed to sneak out despite his brother’s grip. He waved goodbye to the blonde beauty one last time before dashing out the saloon’s window, not too far behind from Brick.
Bubbles stood at the doorframe for a moment, quickly lifting her dress and running to the window. Just afar she managed to notice Brick and Butch running for the hills, an auburn stallion waiting just outside. Brick jumped onto the horse’s back saddle, grabbing his brother’s mitt and hoisting him up before signaling the horse to move.
she couldn’t help, but watch from the window. The sound of footsteps emanated from behind. Buttercup had finally caught up, stopping by the window to see the same scene as Bubbles. “Dammit! What’s the matter with you? Why didn't you stop them!?”
”I—“ Bubbles paused, still looking out. “I don't know.”
Her sister sighed, tucking her firearm back into its holster. “Blossom’s gonna be awful mad at me after this.”
”I’ll cover for you.” She smiled, her eyes still caught in the direction the two bandits ran in. “I let them get away after all.”
“Eh..” she shrugged, cracking her neck after such a hassle. “They’ll probably be back. We’ll get ‘em then.”
She tucked her hat on, turning away to walk out of the saloon.
Bubbles nodded mindlessly, “yeah. I think they’ll be back.”