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[Tomasque]

My phone will die soon. You can post here if you want, but don't expect a response.

[Powder Miner]

The writer takes a long, long draw from his glass, but the sudden silence when high noon falls is enough to get him looking out of the corners of his eyes at the rest of the tavern. He just quietly drank and observed as carefully as he could.

[Tomasque]

 Powder Miner:

The writer takes a long, long draw from his glass, but the sudden silence when high noon falls is enough to get him looking out of the corners of his eyes at the rest of the tavern. He just quietly drank and observed as carefully as he could.

[8]+1=9
 Almost immediately, you hear the telltale signs of hoofbeats - 4 horses worth. Everyone in the tavern is pale with fear. The hoofbeats stop just outside the tavern, and you can see the 4 horses through the window. A man gets off the front-most one and addresses the town in a loud voice: "I have me a basket here. (he holds it up) It sure is a nice basket, but I think it's look nicer if it was stuffed with cash. How about it? You have until one o'clock!"

[Powder Miner]

Well, the writer sure wasn't a lawman, or anything exciting like that, he didn't reckon that he was any sort of fellow that could stop this sort of thing. But he sure knew an interesting situation when he saw one, and he reacted to it in an odd way: by unzipping his bag, pulling out a typewriter, and watching the situation unfold further.

[pikachu17]

Well, the writer sure wasn't a lawman, or anything exciting like that, he didn't reckon that he was any sort of fellow that could stop this sort of thing. But he sure knew an interesting situation when he saw one, and he reacted to it in an odd way: by unzipping his bag, pulling out a typewriter, and watching the situation unfold further.

I don't know about you, but if I was trying to rob a place, and someone unzipped a bag, I'd assume it's some kind of weapon, and react accordingly. sorry if this kills your character, but hey, getting shot at is GREAT for writing!

[Powder Miner]

Well, the writer sure wasn't a lawman, or anything exciting like that, he didn't reckon that he was any sort of fellow that could stop this sort of thing. But he sure knew an interesting situation when he saw one, and he reacted to it in an odd way: by unzipping his bag, pulling out a typewriter, and watching the situation unfold further.

I don't know about you, but if I was trying to rob a place, and someone unzipped a bag, I'd assume it's some kind of weapon, and react accordingly. sorry if this kills your character, but hey, getting shot at is GREAT for writing!

He's not robbing the tavern.

[Tomasque]

Who's on tonight?

[Powder Miner]

I'll be here again.

[Tomasque]

 Powder Miner:

Well, the writer sure wasn't a lawman, or anything exciting like that, he didn't reckon that he was any sort of fellow that could stop this sort of thing. But he sure knew an interesting situation when he saw one, and he reacted to it in an odd way: by unzipping his bag, pulling out a typewriter, and watching the situation unfold further.

[4]+2
 You decide to take a few notes while you watch. What unfolds seems strangely frightening, and yet mechanically routine. One by one, the people in the bar get our their wallets and file out of the tavern, joining the lines trickling out of the other buildings on the street. Within moments, the bar is completely empty except for you and the gentleman to your right. Outside,  person after person drops off their meager savings into the basket, while its owner smirks with pride.

[Powder Miner]

As he typed out his notes, the writer remarked, "Do they not have any lawmen out here? Do they not have enough? Hmm. Tragic is what it is." He continued to watch for now; he wasn't going to try to jump in to an active situation like this.

[Tomasque]

 Powder Miner:

As he typed out his notes, the writer remarked, "Do they not have any lawmen out here? Do they not have enough? Hmm. Tragic is what it is." He continued to watch for now; he wasn't going to try to jump in to an active situation like this.

You decide the best thing to do is to wait inside and not get involved. Unfortunately, the stranger notices you sitting at the bar, and calls out to you: "Are you deaf, or what? Get in line!

[Powder Miner]

The writer doesn't look up, though he puts his typewriter back in its bag. "I'm not from 'round here, stranger. You go attacking me, and you ain't just messing with whoever they got to enforce the law 'round here, you're dealing with the California State Po-lice."

[Tomasque]

The writer doesn't look up. "I'm not from 'round here, stranger. You go attacking me, and you ain't just messing with whoever they got to enforce the law 'round here, you're dealing with the California State Po-lice."

"I don't listen to the police kid. I've got a gun, and if they want to arrest me, they'll have to talk to my 45 millimeter buddies, first. The same applies to you." He draws his gun, but you can see from the cocky look on his face that he doesn't think he'll need to use it.

[Powder Miner]

The writer sighed and stood up, taking out his wallet, his bag swinging lightly. "Tch. Well, I've had my drink and it's just money, I'll find some way to make do." Wearing a rather nonplussed expression, he did in fact put his money in the basket.

[Tomasque]

The writer sighed and stood up, taking out his wallet, his bag swinging lightly. "Tch. Well, I've had my drink and it's just money, I'll find some way to make do." Wearing a rather nonplussed expression, he did in fact put his money in the basket.

As you walk outside, you hear a bang.  The stranger whirls around and draws his gun. His eyes grow wide with shock. "The bandits!" he yells in fright, and grabs his basket. He and his posse mount their horses, and begin riding back to where they came from. Moments into their escape, one of them is shot dead, and falls off the saddle while the horse continues in its crazed flight. The townspeople aren't any better. Some hide, others run, and a few scramble around the road in panic.