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Showdown, TBOS R2 Part 1

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Luka couldn't have taken two steps outside the village before the world shifted. The tall trees shrunk and merged together to form old-style houses. The road bent into a straight line with several offshoots that were equally straight, and the earth cracked beneath the tree spirit's feet as the water evaporated faster than it should've been able to. All the animals the duo could see morphed into snakes or buzzards or horses, some with riders.

Rupert slid out of Luka's horns to sit on her back, jaw dropped as low as it could. In only a matter of moments, they'd gone from an isolated medieval village to an old, mid-west town… complete with tumbleweeds.

"Hey! Nice horse! Where'd ya get it? The dollar store?" an old man shouted from his rocking chair outside a saloon. Luka didn't reply; she was still wrapping her head around the fact that the entire world had changed around them.

Rupert, on the other hand, was shaken out of his reverie by the heckling and promptly stuck out his worm-like tongue at the man. "Where'd ya get that beard? Your cat hack it up or something?"

The old man shouted back something obscene, which Luka deigned to ignore. Rupert just flicked out his tongue once more. Slipping into a side-street, the tree spirit turned to face the goblin.

"Uh, what…"

"… just happened?" Rupert finished for her. He shrugged. "Why're you asking me? All I can do with magic is make things explode. Quite spectacularly, too."

Luka grimaced. She knew the capabilities of the goblin's single spell… the consequences of which resulted in several citations, property damage, and a noise violation. It wasn't an experience she was eager to repeat.

Instead, she pondered… on what had occurred, why it could've occurred, and – most importantly – how it had occurred. Rupert quickly lost interest in this silent contemplation, opting to jump down and root around in what appeared to be a pile of trash.

"Do you think…" Luka said after a few minutes, "that this is what Mudd was talking about? That the… story… needs maintenance."

Rupert shrugged as he pulled a shredded piece of cowhide from the pile. "How should I know? Stories're your area of expertise."

"And yet you do such a wonderful job of sabotaging them."

"I never changed the entire story before. What do you take me for? A hijacker?"

"I take you for a prankster. And not a very good one." To herself, just low enough so he couldn't hear, she added, "Sometimes."

The goblin threw his find over one shoulder. "Thanks for the vote of no confidence, milady." Luka rolled her eyes as he addressed her so melodramatically, but stopped when she saw something on the other side of the street.

It was a shadow within a shadow, someone sneaking through the darkness. Then it moved into the light so quickly, the tree spirit jerked back. The shadow was a person, a cowboy with his bandana over his face. It was something one did during a dust storm or to hide one's face… and there was no dust in the air yet.

"It's only been one day, but I'm really getting tired of people attacking us. Aren't you, Luka?"

The tree spirit didn't respond as she nearly backed into another (presumably) bandit, who was now one of four men aiming revolvers at the duo.

"Yer comin' with us," the first bandit declared with a heavy, Western accent. "The Boss wants ta see ya."

"And if we don't want to see him?" Luka locked eyes with him, hoping that he'd be scared – at least a little – by the slight glow of her purple eyes.

She would be disappointed. "Ya ain't got a choice." The man snapped his fingers and the other bandits tossed a net up and over the tree spirit.

Luka could barely manage a squeak of surprise before the woven hemp fell over her and the bandits tightened it by drawing back on lines connected to the edges of the net, knocking her off her feet. With her breath knocked out of her for the moment, she was helpless to prevent Rupert from doing something stupid.

"You bastards! That's no way to go about askin' a lady to go somewhere." The goblin waved his long fingers at one of the net-throwers, and a series of firecrackers went off between his feet. The man dropped the line he was holding and charged the goblin, who smiled broadly and motioned for him to "bring it on." Rupert never stood a chance. The man tackled him, forcing him to the ground, and began punching his face until lines of crimson flowed from his mouth.

Luka wanted to protest, but the only sounds that came from her mouth were strangled sobs. She closed her eyes just so she wouldn't have to look at the goblin's glazed eyes. If it hadn't been apparent before, it was now…

She was truly in great danger.

"Wha' should I do with this sorry excuse for a jackalope?" the man said, his voice several pitches higher than the other men, like he was a mouse when they were all rats.

The first bandit – whom Luka took to be the leader of the gang – holstered his gun and crinkled his nose at the sight. "Throw 'im in the manure pile. Let it be those stupid farmers' problem."

The squeaky man smiled and hurried off, carrying Rupert by his thin neck and hurling him onto an indistinct, brown pile. Everyone else took hold of the net and dragged Luka across the dry ground towards a fine mansion that seemed at odds with the poor town surrounding it.

She was going to meet their Boss.

* * * * *

Inside the mansion, a lavish attempt to recreate the luxury found in the Southeast USA, a man sat in the drawing room, drinking fine wine from an intricately sculpted glass cup. He was surrounded by everything exquisite and unique to the wild frontier – from mounted animal heads to stolen Indian weaponry – although the suit the man wore hinted that he wasn't the one who had collected those items. It was a tailor-made suit made like those that gentlemen in the South wore during special occasions, but this man wore it like he did so all the time… which, technically, he did.

Magpie swirled the red liquid in his cup, feeling utterly satisfied and proud. When the church suddenly shifted into this mansion, and the survivors of the W01F apocalypse changed into bandits, the demon had been ready to teleport away so that his clothing wouldn't be made into Swiss cheese by a barrage of bullets. However, the men had smiled genuinely and called him "Boss," asking if he needed anything. Magpie was quick to begin ordering them around, glad that their black hearts meant that he still had their souls.

And from what Thomas, his second-in-command, told him about the town he currently "ran," everyone living there was so corrupt he could easily take their souls, too.

His job was getting easier every minute.

The sound of a bell signaled that Thomas and his gang had returned from their errand. While Magpie did want to relax and enjoy his luxuries, he was ecstatic that his people had gotten another person who didn't belong. Putting his glass down on an oak wood table, the demon straightened his tie and went down to meet this newcomer.
For the second round of :icontbos-oct:

Next [link]

Luka and Rupert belong to me
Magpie belongs to :iconelliejae:

(For the purposes of this round, I’m assuming that time can flow differently in different stories. In this round, Magpie’s been in the Western for nearly a week when Rupert and Luka arrive.)
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