Booker D'witt's page

Hopefully things turn out for the best for you. And I can't take the piss out of anyone for not posting regularly. I need to pay more attention.

After 4 days Booker was ready to get moving again. Sitting still for too long just wasn’t his thing.

He followed the others to the sheriff’s office again and listened quietly, only sighing slightly at the ‘he said, she said’ nature of the accusations.
“Well, if there’s gonna be a fight, we don’t wanna miss the fun.”
Booker adds with more then a hint of sarcasm.
”I ain’t been shot at nearly enough this week.

When the others are ready, Booker light a cigarette and mounts up to follow.

Booker doesn’t have enough to buy a horse of his own yet, so he’s gonna have to keep using the one he’s been borrowing from the sheriff. So I can’t think of anything else he would need to purchase, except a pack of smokes and a bottle of good whiskey for the road. :p

Booker glances up from his drink.
”I don’t really trust anyone, but a few day rest sounds like a fine thing. Though if you want to talk to those jail birds at least wait until after breakfast.”
He waves his glass.

Okay, so I’m good with the extra pistol, ammo and $50

Booker straps on the second gunbelt. He double checks the pistol before holstering it again. He makes sure to grab some extra ammo to accommodate the extra pistol.
Minus the gun Booker keeps, that leaves 3 pistols and belts. I didn’t see any mention of other firearms. How many rounds can we guess were recovered?
The only reason I had him keep a pistol is so I can learn dual wielding pistols. And buying a second pistol would be expensive. :p
”Morning sounds good. I could go with a hot bath and clean bed for the night.”
Booker follows Angel example and heads back to the hotel for the night.

Also, am I the only one playing Red Dead 2 now? :D

”Deputy work, even if it’s just for a bit, sounds like it might pay well.”
Booker grumbles. ”And we seem to be doing a fine job running into trouble here of late. May as well get paid for it.”

”Don’t suppose you mind if I keep this?”
Booker pulls the pistol that looked the most well kept and it’s gunbelt out of one of the bags. He regards the sheriff.
”Didn’t want to just claim it if you wanted to keep’em with the corpses.”

Booker watched with some curiosity as the doctor mixed up the berry based concoction.
When Curly looks to begin stiring Booker looks relieved, even when the doctor says he can’t supply them with more.
”You've done a lot already. Thanks for all the help doc.

Once everyone seems to be up and moving under their own power Booker heads back to the saloon to help move the bodies.
”Well, they aren’t gonna need these.”
Booker removes their gunbelts and collects their weapons. Tucking them into one of the bags he gets Angel to help gather bags and secure them until they’re ready to head back to town.

Booker stood to the back, out of the way, but listening as the doctor talked.
He had been in the Army not long all that long ago. He'd seen how bad white men had treated the native tribes. He bit his lip though and said nothing. Only nodding when the doctor finished.
He didn't feel and responsibility for him getting shot. After all, one takes their chances and suffer the consequences. But he was a traveling companion right now and hadn't done wrong by him. So, if he could help a little he didn't seem the harm in it.
"Fair is all anyone can ask for."

Booker swung the rifle back to the door and waited. Listening. He heard the accented voice of the foreigner, Antonio, calling for Doc. It sounded like something had happened to Curly.
The ex-solider cursed.
Slinging the rifle onto his back, Booker drew his revolver and moved at a ducking run. He quickly crosses over to the door of the bar.
I guess it’s still hanging open from the gunman running out.
Licking his lips he peeks around the frame and ducks back. When no one shoots at him he calls out.
”Angel? Toni? Is it clear?”

Sorry for the disappearing act, I'll try to keep up.

Booker could hear the shouting start inside the bar, quickly followed by several gunshots. He cursed himself for hesitating, but he couldn’t bring himself to run into the building blindly.
Licking his lips nervously stayed crouched behind a half empty trough, his rifle leveled at the bar’s door.
As a gunman bursts from the door, pistol in hand, Booker only takes a moment to come to a decision. He trains his rifle on the runner and pulls the trigger.

1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14
(if he's within the 80' +1 = 15)
(if he's past the first 80' -2 = 12 vs touch, if it misses I would like to use Booker's Black Powder Bravado to reroll the attack if it's okay)
1d10 ⇒ 9 (if he's within 80' +1 = 10)

Can those still outside on the street see what's happening inside?
Could I get a clear shot with the rifle?

Booker had continued on with the smaller group. As Angel had said, a smaller group the larger the cut. And frankly, he wasn’t in a position to walk away from the bounty. Not if he wanted hot meals and a warm bed when he got back to town.

He rode in silence, watching the others as they continue searching for the trial, finally finding it hours later. As the group approached the small, abandoned looking town he eyed it suspiciously.

"Smells like an ambush. Think we'll be better off riding in together. And keep a sharp eye out."

”Too right.” He agreed and pulled his pistol, checked it and reholstered it. Pulling the rifle off his back he checked the chamber and laid it across his lap, one hand on it, the other holding the reigns.

Sorry for not posting sooner. Had some computer issues.

Still here.

"Guns are more then enough to get'cha killed." Booker says plainly as he pokes the fire.
After eating something that could possibly pass as a meal while on the trail Booker stretches. "I'm gonna hit the hay. Wake me for my watch." He rolls his shoulder as he rises and moves to his bedroll.

Booker dismounts and pulls his rifle off his back. He holds it out at the snake slowly and gently waves the muzzle back and forth in an attempt to draw the snake’s attention away from the doctor. Hopefully not aggravating it further.

Handle Animal: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16

”Okay Doc, move real slow.” He Says calmly.

Booker nodded to Curly then looked back at the doctor as he spoke up and seemed to take the initiative. He looks back at Curly and shrugs at he mounts the borrowed horse.

D’witt keeps his eyes moving as he follows the doctor.

SUrvival: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15

He feels the horse tense under him as everyone goes quiet. The sound of the rattles carrying in the early day. ”Easy boy.” Booker pats the horse’s neck attempting to keep it calm and tries to back it away from the nest slowly.

Handle Animal: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16

Booker raises his hand slightly. ”I got a little experience, but if I’ve learned anything, a second set of eyes always helps.” He says then glances around at the others gathered.

What’s left of the small group talks into the late evening before retiring to their rooms. Booker crawls into bed, knowing it’s possibly his night in the room if he can’t find paying work. With a grunt he lays his head and closes his eyes.

Gun shots ring out and Booker’s revolver is in hand and cocked before he’s even fully awake. He aims into the darkness. His heavy breaths coming quickly. As he looks around Booker shakes his head, throwing off the ghosts of the past. Climbing out of bed he grabs the gunbelt on the nightstand and hurries down stairs to the shouts of the bank being robbed.

”I think it might be a bit too earlier to even call it morning.” He says with a hint of sarcasm as he steps up next to Curly and nods to the doctor respectfully, but eyes him cautiously. ”Always good to have a doctor around I suppose.”
With a sigh he holsters the pistol and strap on the gunbelt as he follows after the other two towards the sheriff’s office.

Booker yawned and stretched as he sat on the bed. He had felt lucky to find a room, he had been sure the hotel would have been full given the crowd gathered in the saloon. He was grateful for the bed, having been sleeping on the ground the last few nights. Getting up he crossed to the small mirror over the wash basin.
"Maybe I should clean myself up a little." He thought to himself as he tilted his head to one side then the other.
On the stand beside the bed rested his old Calvary pistol, within easy reach if he had needed it in the night. His rifle rested with his back in the corner behind the door. Out of sight of first glance around the room from the door.
After washing up and a little trimming with his knife Booker nodded to his reflection. "Now to find a little work so I can make a little money." A glance out the window told him he had slept later then he had wanted to. Setting his hat he strapped his gun belt on and headed down stairs to the bar.
His gaze sweeps those at the tables before he turns his attention to down the bar.
With a casual stride he approaches the bar and takes a stool. ”Miss Dottie, ma’am.” He smiles and addresses Dottie politely. ”A beer and some of whatever’s making that wonderful smell would be appreciated.”

After getting his beer and nods in thanks and takes a short draw from the bottle. ”Ah, thank you.” Setting the bottle down again he waits for Dottie to have a moment before catching her attention again. ”You hear everything going on in town.” He says with a knowing smile. ”Don’t suppose you heard of anyone needing a bit of a hand around these parts?”

Just let me know how much to deduct from his money.

Booker yawned and stretched as he sat on the bed. He had felt lucky to find a room, he had been sure the hotel would have been full given the crowd gathered in the saloon. He was grateful for the bed, having been sleeping on the ground the last few nights. Getting up he crossed to the small mirror over the wash basin.
"Maybe I should clean myself up a little." He thought to himself as he tilted his head to one side then the other.
On the stand beside the bed rested his old Calvary pistol, within easy reach if he had needed it in the night. His rifle rested with his back in the corner behind the door. Out of sight of first glance around the room from the door.
After washing up and a little trimming with his knife Booker nodded to hi reflection. "Now to find a little work so I can make a little money."

Checking in. Backstory wise I was thinking he use to be a soldier in the cavalry, now he's freelance gun for hire.

Thank you so much. I hope I don't disappoint.

Okay, here is Booker D'witt for consideration.
Sorry for the lateness of it.