Sign Up Find Ezra Black(M-VSL)

[Guest Ezra Black]

[quote][b]Dear friend,[/b]

You know, there's an old redman teacher who says that you can't hunt a buffalo without dressing like a wolf. That's because buffalo are so big and stupid they ain't too much afraid of a pack of wolves near their herd. Once the Indian hunters have made their choice, the men in wolves' clothing bring down their prey with relative ease.
Are you a wolf? If you are, then you won't make it. Take a little time to learn from ole' Black, and I'll teach you about the patience of God, the power of nature, and the measure of a man.
Your best way to start learning is to stand up; you've been lying down far too long.

Your friend with love,
[b][i]Ezra Black[/i][/b][/quote]


You have in your hand a letter written in black ink on general store paper. When you finish reading it, you fold it up, unsure of what to do next. You survey your surroundings.
Your choices in life haven't always been agreeable with the world at large: You're a thief, a killer, a lawyer, a harlot, a pimp, a drunk, a foreigner, an undertaker, or maybe even a jack preacher. What's all that got to do with anything? Those are the people Ezra Black goes for, that's why.
Everyone knows about "the justice of Ezra Black." Some call him the only real American hero; right up there with Paul Bunyan. But that's because those 'some' ain't you--yet. After all, Ezra Black goes for people with vices--which means he goes for everyone, right?
You've heard the same people in saloons all over the West call him the messenger of God and a son of Satan in the same breath. He's the Law, and the Lawless, so they say. He tracks 'em down, but he don't bring much justice. But it don't really matter what 'they' say anymore. After all, you've got a better chance than anyone else of finding out exactly who Ezra Black is. He's got you, and all you've got is your wits, the piss in your veins, and the clothes on your back, for now. Don't fret, though. Ezra Black don't leave 'em hangin' without goading them with a stick for too long. You'll hear from him. Just one thing to do: Find Ezra Black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Name:
Gender:
Age:
Occupation:
Vices:
Describe your surroundings:

Unless your sign-up is just dumb, I'll let most anyone in. However, the quality of your sign-up and your introduction into the story will determine the difficulty of your circumstances.

Oh, I almost forgot the rules: You're alone, for now, in the wilderness of the US Midwest. Your immediate surroundings are, in fact, determined by you, but you're precise location on the map is known only to Ezra Black.
This is basically a quality-based game of which there will be a definate winner. If none of you win, I do. The quality/originality of your character developement within the set boundaries are key in determining what clues will be given to you, and what items/secrets you do or do not recieve.

The aforementioned boundaries are these:
1) No killing fellow competitors without permission from Ezra Black. This permission will be worked into gameplay, but use it (and each other) wisely.
2) Though, the name of the game is "Find Ezra Black" it's a little misleading. You see, you don't find Ezra Black, so much as he reveals himself to you gradually. It is through, as mentioned, your own creativity (and some more blatant measures such as puzzles and riddles) that you will come to a final confrontation with your captor. So no finding Ezra Black on your own.
3) As mentioned, you begin alone, with no weapons. Only you're own wiles, and the enviroment around you. I repeat: "The enviroment around you." Rest assured, weapons will come.
4) On beginning alone: As you progress, it would be beneficial to you to locate other competitors. Do this in good taste, though.
5) There is no such thing as civilization to you at this time. When you do find it, make note that this is set in the 1850s-1900s timeframe.

"No redman knows buffalo like me."

[thezerosystem]

[COLOR=DarkGreen][SIZE=1][B]Name:[/B] Kisecawchuck (Cree, Meaning "daystar") Harley
[B]Gender:[/B]Male
[B]Age:[/B]20
[B]Occupation:[/B] Harlot
[B]Vices:[/B] Besides the obvious? Kie's pride tends to get in the way of his sense, he's prone to starting fights reguardless of whether or not he can win, and when he's upset he tends to drink to much.

[B]Describe your surroundings: [/B] November stained the sky red. The sun rode low in it's morning arc, lighting the trees afire from below. The ground was cold with the last night's rain, Kie didn't mind in the least. It was a welcome distraction from the pain in his...everywhere. His back, his shoulders, his neck... He pressed his cheek to the earth, letting the chill dull the throbbing in his head.

He closed his eyes and breathed in the morning, tasting the river and the trees and the sunlight... A bird landed on his outstretched hand, he didn't move to startle it. There were few things in life that kept him from the certainty that God hated him, animals trust in him was one of them. He peeked out from beneath his hair and tried to place the bird. A finch, tiny, yellow checked, and usually not very friendly; this one only pecked at the paper crumpled in his hand and chicked at him.

Paper? Kie sat up suddenly, which proved to be a mistake. The light turned hostile and the trees swam. the strength evaporated from Kie's limbs and for a moment the world flickered black. He came back to himself leaning over the old tree's roots, choking up bile and whatever it was he'd eaten the night before. He couldn't really remember...

He was in a clearing, he recognized it, barely, from making camp yesterday evening. The trees were bare, their leaves brittle beneath every movement. It was another reason he'd chosen to make camp here, at least, when he crawled back into his own bed for the night, he didn't have to worry about any surprises. The horses had been tied...there, beneath the tree opposite the still smoldering campfire...

Oddly, it was the absence of the horses Kie noted first. He was used to waking up alone, he [I]preferred[/I] waking up alone... He preferred going to bed alone too, but that rarely got you a full stomach...

He was gone. That [I]bastard[/I] hadn't lured him all the way out here for [I]privacy[/I] dammit it wasn't like everyone didn't [I]know[/I] he was feeding Kie [I]anyway[/I]- That degenerate scumbag had taken Kie out here to get him sloshed off his *** and rob him!

The thought that perhaps Kie should consider himself lucky he'd woken up at all didn't occure to him. He was too angry. He slammed his fist into the tree, splintering the bark (for which he muttered a silent apology to the spirit), and collapsed back onto his back. That was when he finally noticed the note clutched in his hand this whole time.

He frowned and unfolded it, knowing better than to assume it was some sort of explanation. Life had been kicking him in the gut and running off with his horse for as long as he could remember, really, he didn't expect what he found... [/SIZE] [/COLOR]

And now that I've rambled on for way longer than I should have- In the immortal words of The Lost Skeleton of Cadavera: "I sleep now."

[Justin]

Name: Dog Johnson
Gender: Male
Age: 37
Occupation: Deputy
Vices: Lechery, gambling, and murder.
Describe your surroundings: Dog never felt so hungover in his life. He opened his eyes ever so slightly, and they were greeted by the cool desert night. "No problem." Dog said to himself, "Not like I've never woke up in unfamiliar places before. I ain't never been too far from some place."
But as he began to take in the enviroment around him, he became aware that he'd never seen some of the landmarks he was seeing now. He, however, knew his stomping grounds around Rushton, Arizona like the back of his gun hand. It was then he noticed the letter in his hand.
....
"Ezra Black." Dog mused aloud. "Didn't think you were real." Dog had heard things about Ezra Black, same as everyone else. He, like most intelligent people, thought they were just old cowboy tales used to pass the time and scare city-folk. He would've thought this was a joke, until he looked down on his chest and saw a bloody rag. It was then that he tasted that iron-like taste in his own mouth. It had been a gag.
"I don't know about finding you, sir." he said out loud. "But I don't need to lay here all day, that's sure."

-Justin