Fjord - 7:20 to Appleloosa (unfinished)

>The evening sun shines through the windows, cutting streaks of light through the haze in the saloon
>You sit back in the low sofa and look at the scene before you, again
>The dusty saloon of Appleloosa is much like any other bar this side of Ghastly Gorge. The liquor is watered down, the beds full of lice, and the whores too cheap for comfort
>Not that it bothers you much, a real bed is always appreciated
>It’s a marked improvement over the heat and dust of the road you've spent most of your life on
>Whilst the Eastern counties of Canterlot and Fillydelphia preach their lessons of friendship and ‘magic’, this region is still very much untamed
>Farm work never really suited you, so you packed up everything you owned into a saddlebag and rode out of the family ranch on your 20th birthday without looking back
>In this new world, it’s quite a common thing for young men to do, seeking fame and fortune on their own
>The uncommon thing about you, is that you've lasted longer than a year
>You’re a decent shot, nothing to write home about but you put survival down to the fact that you can barely hold a conversation. People around here seem to find that threatening
>The cold, calculated, gunslinger vibe you give off isn't genuine, but it definitely helps smooth out dangerous situations
>Hell, no one’s perfect
>Focus Anon, you've got a job to do
>You've been here for about 2 weeks now, waiting for her to arrive

>At first the locals were suspicious of a solitary ranch-hand waltzing into town. Hell, the bar pianist even struck the wrong chord when you arrived. But after you did a few odd jobs around town and rented one the rooms above bar they relaxed to your presence
>You can’t blame them for being careful though. Armed gangs pretty much own this region now
>The civil war in Canterlot is draining resources from all over the country leaving little in the way of money and men to keep order elsewhere
>Although officially, the uprising is being played as a ‘Civil war’ anyone with reading skills know it’s a holy war by the Nocturne Church
>They always seemed a bit shady to you
>You take a sip of your beer and resume your vigil on the door
>The only things you know about this girl is that she’s rich and has purple hair. Apparently, a photo would’ve been too risky
>Chances are the people who want her don’t even know what she looks like
>You’ll be glad to get them off your back and out of your life
>Anyway, she should be here soon. The stage coaches usually arrive en-mass at 7:20pm
>The faded grandfather clock by the stairs reads 07:10pm. Time enough for another drink
>You haul yourself out of your seat and walk over to the bar
>”Hey there Mister, another beer?”
“Yeah another one please Miss”
>As the barkeep, Apple Fritter pulls a bottle out of the ice chest she asks “So how long do you reckon you’ll be stickin’ around Appleloosa?”
>Internal panic rises as she hands you your drink. Fuck, does she know why you’re really here?
>”Not meanin’ to pry, just if you’re thinking of staying for a while I can probably hook you up with a regular job, if you like. The sheriff could always use another man with a gun”
>You smile out of relief and pay the girl
“Thanks for the offer Miss Fritter, but I think I’ll be moving on tonight”

>This isn’t a lie. If the girl doesn't show up tonight you’re cutting your loses and getting out of Equestria
>She lightly scuffs the bar with a fist
>”Shoot, well if ya ever change your mind you know where we are. You know, the townsfolk have actually taken a liking to you”
>This is news to you
“Seriously?”
>”Yep, there’s no way in hell anyone would say it to yer face, but it sure is nice havin’ someone who can handle himself around town. Sheriff Braeburn and his deputies jus’ sit in that office and drink themselves silly”
“Sign of the times really. Still, I appreciate the offer Miss. But, you know…”
>She pulls another another beer out of the chest
>”I get ya Mister. Anyway here, have another one on the house…Well damn, lookie here”
>She motions to a large shadow by the entrance to the saloon, a stately dress combined with an excessively large hat blots out the sun for a moment
>The woman moves out of the sunlight and looks around the building for a second before pulling off her hat and hanging it on a coat stand. Styled purple hair tumbles out over her shoulders
>You and Apple Fritter give each other a look as the bar goes quiet in awe of the refined beauty before them
>Her clean, classy dress shows that she doesn’t work for a living and holy shit, that’s a big hat
>The house whores sneer at her as she walks over to you and Apple Fritter at the bar
>”Hello there, could I get a gin and tonic and a larger for my driver please?”
>You didn’t even see the skinny guy following behind her. He’s wearing an oversized Stetson and has thin wisps of hair on his lip. He’s also carrying about 5 trunks on a trolley behind him
>Apple Fritter gives her a searching look before smiling to the girl “Sure thing Ma’am”
>As Apple Fritter goes to get the girls drink you muster up some courage and turn to her
“Haven’t seen you around these parts before Miss, mind if I get your name?”

>She turns to you with barely concealed distain. She hides it quickly before giving a thin lipped smile
>”I'm sorry Sir, but I don’t just give out my name to strangers I meet at a bar anymore. You know how it is”
>Sign of the times again. You try a different approach
“Understandable. But hey, you can’t go your whole life as the woman with the big hat”
>You take another swig at your beer
“For what it’s worth, I'm Anonymous, Anon to friends”
>Apple Fritter comes back with the drinks for the girl
>”Anyway Anon, do you have an idea of where you’re off to next, I… Oh sorry, here’re your drinks, Miss?”
>The girl sighs slightly before taking a sip of her G&T. “Rarity, Miss Rarity. Thank you”
>Rarity? Suits her
>Come to think of it, everyone’s name around here suits them, so this isn’t really a surprise
>Rarity’s driver pipes up “So Mr Anonymous, do you live around these parts?”
“Not really, although I’ve covered pretty much every road within 100 miles. Why?”
>“I was just wonderin’ how far it is to the mountains? Yer see, we’re headin-“
>The driver is silenced by a death gaze from Rarity
>”W-we’re jus’ headed that way”
>For all her splendour, it seems that she’s got a brain
>“*Ahem* Yes, just up that way. In any case, it’s been a long day and I was wondering if you had two rooms that I could hire for the night?”
>Apple Fritter perks up at the prospect of new customers “Sure thing Miss! We’ve got two, oh”
>”Is something that matter?”
>”No, it’s jus’… We HAVE got two rooms, but one is taken by Anonymous here at the moment”

>Everyone looks at you. Even the pianist
“I uh… Yeah sure, go ahead and take it. I'm leaving here tonight anyway”
>”Ah! A gentleman as well as a gunslinger! That’s very kind of you Sir, thank you”
“No worries, I’ll just go and get my stuff out of it. Would you mind if I left my saddle in the barn?”
>Apple Fritter smiles and walks out from behind the bar “Sure thing Anon, I’ll go get it now, save your drink gettin’ warm”
>If you didn’t have to go through with tonight you’d stay here a while longer and get to know Apple Fritter better. She seems like a genuinely nice girl, something rare in these parts
“’preciate it”
>Apple Fritter looks at you one more time with a small smile, before ushering Rarity and her driver to their rooms
>You grab your bottles and retire back to the sofa
>Discreetly checking that the chambers of your pistol are full, you settle back down and wait till nightfall

>”M-M-Mr Anonymous? Wh-what’s going on?”
>Rarity walks in from the balcony in her nightgown. Seeing you she freezes with a look of terror on her face
>1am and the town is silent
>Apple Fritter kindly let you sleep on the sofa in exchange for an hour cleaning glasses so you’re feeling rested and ready
>Apart from the way your hands are shaking and the way that sweat is beading on your forehead
>You told Apple Fritter that you would be leaving before midnight. No doubt she’ll suspect you but it covers your ass a little
>You take a deep breath before standing up and unbuttoning your holster
“This is it Anon. Just go in there, get the girl, get out, and get on your way”
>What could go wrong?
>The floorboards sing you the song of their people as you climb the stairs. After a few steps you get sick of their shit and just walk normally up the rest
>As you reach the top, you turn the oil lamps on the wall down a few notches
>It probably won’t stop them noticing you, but it makes you feel slightly more stealthy
>Your hand slides down to the butt of your gun as you turn the handle to the first room
>The saloon did have locks on the doors until armed gangs blew them out whilst looking for someone. Apple Fritter didn’t bother replacing them after the 5th time
>Slowing peaking in, you see a pile of trunks by the window with a Stetson on top. Wrong room
>Not wanting to wake the driver, you pull the door shut and creep over to the next room
>Pulling the same trick with the oil lamp, you turn the handle and walk into Rarity’s room
>You hear the clunk of a rifle being loaded
>A shaky male voice calls out from the darkness “Hands where I can see ‘em buddy. I-I don’t want no trouble”
>Fuck, you didn’t think about this. That fucking Stetson decoy worked perfectly
>Putting on the manliest voice you can, you stare at the driver
“Put that rifle down son and there’ll be no trouble. I ain’t after you”
>You almost cut yourself on your edge

>”Spike? What’s going on?”
>Rarity walks in from the balcony in her nightgown. Seeing you she freezes with a look of terror on her face
>”M-M-Mr Anonymous? Wh-what’s going on?”
>Fuck everything, you need to get out before she wakes up the whole fucking town
>You pull out your gun and point it at Rarity
“Give me that rifle or I shoot her”


>Simple, yet effective
>”HOLY SHIT, I-I-I, okay… here take it”
>Spike slides the gun along the ground. You pick it up and holster your pistol. It takes a second longer than normal due to the way your hands are trembling
“Good. Now, me and Miss Rarity here are going on a little walk. If I hear any shouting, she dies. Any screaming whores, she dies. Any gunshots, she’s dead. Got it?”
>You’re amazed that your voice hasn’t given out yet from being cut up from the edge leaving your mouth
>Once this is over you’ll seriously give settling down another go. Perhaps you could get a ranch going with a hundred head of cattle, or maybe…
>The sound of Rarity crying snaps you back to reality
>You grab her by the arm and drag her towards the stairs
>Seeing the bar downstairs makes you think about Apple Fritter again. She would definitely make a good wife and bear many healthy children for you
>If she saw you like this, it would shatter any illusions she had about you. For the sake you of moral compass, she better not see you then
>To make yourself feel better, you grab the hem on Rarity’s stupidly long nightdress and tear a bit off the bottom
>She goes to shout at you but you silence her by pushing the rifle into her back
>You wrap the sweet smelling black silk around your face and tie it off at the back
>At least she wears nice perfume
>Walking down the stairs you catch a sight of yourself in the glass of the grandfather clock
>To be fair, you do rock the rugged outlaw look. Even if you have been trying to avoid it

>Shit, how did you get into this in the first place? Your old teacher Cheerliee even had classes about how to avoid getting into these situations
>Man, going to school at Canterlot High seems an age ago now. Your parents scraped up enough money to send you to a decent school in another county
>The schools around here mostly taught kids how to trap and skin animals
>Fuck, you need to stop losing focus
>You push Rarity down the rest of the stairs
>She takes this opportunity to scream bloody murder
>You shout back in a desperate voice
“Shut the fuck up!”
>”Damn you to hell!”
>Spike bursts out of the door followed by two blasts of shotgun fire
>The shots miss you but succeed in waking up the entire saloon
>You grab Rarity and throw her over the bar, accidentally knocking her out in the process
>Shouldering Spike’s stolen rifle you fire several shots through the floor above you to try and scare him off
>Your chances of a stealthy getaway have been blown away. You throw away the empty rifle and draw your pistol
>Spike vaults the stairs and fires another blast above you head
>”Let her go, now!”
“Why? So you can ride her into the mountains?”
>That was bad Anon, and you should feel bad
>”Fuck you, Ano-
>You silence him with a bullet
>Spike falls to the floor clutching his shoulder. Killing teenagers is another thing you seriously don’t want on your conscious
>You throw Rarity over your shoulder and make a dash for the door
>Kicking it open, you sprint to the barn around the back of the saloon and kick that door open as well
>God-damn you love kicking doors down
>You find your horse saddled and ready to go. You push away thought of Apple Fritter saddling it for you and unceremoniously toss Rarity over the saddle before opening the doors
>Several shots punch through the wood of the barn as you mount the horse
>You pat the horse on its neck and ride out into the street

>The Sheriff and his deputies have spilled out onto the road and are shooting wildly in your direction
>True to Apple Fritters words, Braeburn and his men must’ve been on the hard cider as all their shots fall wide
>You point your pistol down the street
>You aim at the ground before them in hope they’ll dive for cover and fire
>Unfortunately, the lawmen are all fuelled with dutch courage and they continue shooting at you
>The noise of the shootout has put your horse on edge and she refuses to co-operate with you
“Come on girl, get a grip”
>You dig your spurs into your horse and gallop down the street and into the desert
>Eventually the sound of gunfire quietens, leaving you with the sound of your horse in the desert night