An amazing four-character illustration by tanukibomb!
===
"Is that... is that him?"
It would only have been possible to see the color draining from Sully's face if the ferret had been shaved.
Up until the moment he and Emmet set foot inside the saloon, the wombat's assistant had been all smiles and swagger, as if this was all one big vacation, an opportunity to play cowboy in a real wild west town. The gravity of what they were doing—the natural laws that had been twisted to near breaking even to get here—didn't make an impact.
But everyone has the same reaction to recognizing a living paradox. The locals here must not have been up on their paleontology, or they'd likely have something to say about a saber tooth tiger sitting in their midst.
"An extinct species." Emmet muttered under his breath. "If he's not the interloper, I'd bet the NECESSITY he knows who is."
"Not him. Him." Sully pointed in what he hoped what was a furtive movement.
Emmet saw it too, at least he thought he did. His wombat eyes had adjusted quickly to the low light of the saloon, but something about the shadows in this place must have been playing tricks on them.
Was that the same caribou who had dropped off the doll?
He was seated at a table next to the prime suspect. The two of them were locked in a game of poker with two canines who didn't have the sense of being temporal anomalies. Judging from a heated argument that was erupting, the saber cat was wiping the floor with them. One of them shouted a few choice curses before both got up and stormed off, the spurs on their boots clinking as they brushed past the two "travelers" and towards the exit.
While this happened, the gears in Emmet's head turned.
"Crooked horns," he blurted out.
Sully peered at his employer quizzically.
"Our client had crooked antlers." He gestured surreptitiously at the reindeer. "This one doesn't. It's a coincidence."
Breathing a sigh of relief, seeing as contending with one time traveler was complicated enough, Emmet screwed up his face the way he always did when he was on the verge of coming to a firm decision. "Is the phasgun ready?"
Sully patted the butt of the gun holstered on his hip. "Charged and primed," he whispered.
The "phasgun" being the key to this mission: their wildcard. Emmet didn't exactly have the ability to conduct a lot of testing, but he designed it, so he was confident enough it would do its job.
When fired, the device would project a sheath-decoherence field, the effect being immediate paralysis—if not an outright tau-hold—on any living being not native to this time period. While Emmet perfected its mechanisms, Sully had fitted it into a "period" chassis. As long as the gun wasn't activated, no one would guess that it wasn't just a simple pistol.
Emmet brought two phasguns along with them, and concealed the spare near the NECESSITY's hiding space. While he had some misgivings about handing the other one to Sully, he felt it would be less fitting for his "character" to carry a revolver than his partner's.
"Good. Remember what I told you."
"Only for emergencies." Sully solemnly repeated the instructions.
"Well then. We can't assume we'll get anywhere just standing around," the inventor grunted. "We may never have a better chance to get what we came here for. Follow my lead."
"But—"
But the old wombat was already straightening his hat and sauntering over to the table. Sully tugged at his neckerchief and followed, distinctly swaggerless.
The first test passed quickly. The anomaly did not appear to recognize them (and neither did the caribou). Both seemed perfectly accommodating of a pair of "foreigners" joining their game.
"Foreigner" being Emmet's cover story specifically. As he couldn't imitate a western twang to save his life, he instead affected an English accent and claimed to be a professor of Paleontology from London, here to study the region's unique fossils (all the while he tried gauging the cat's reactions to his choices of terminology. Nothing significant was noted). Sully's natural accent was far closer to the local variety, so the ferret was simply a guide: hired help who knew the area and wasn't afraid of a little digging.
As the game got underfoot, Emmet quickly saw that he and his partner were giving far more information than they were getting.
The "extinct" card player deflected every attempt to discover his identity ("Victor" was the only name he gave), or what his business was ("cooling his heels" was the most he'd admit). He had the vague look of an outlaw about him, prompting Emmet to remind himself that this wasn't a movie. A lot of people out here looked like that.
Meanwhile, the familiar-looking cervid had little of anything to say. Judging from some of Victor's passing remarks, he worked at a nearby bank or financial institution. But he rarely spoke unless he was spoken to first, and he never spoke over Victor.
They're in league, Emmet thought to himself. Curious.
Hadn't Bryce mentioned something about a white cat?
Question after question arose in his mind, but no answers were forthcoming. Was the smilodon working alone? Where was his time machine?
Did he already know the future? Because he sure seemed to be winning hand after hand. They were rapidly losing what little funds (counterfeit though they had to be) they'd thought to bring along.
Sully had noticed this too. The whole time Emmet was struggling with his fact finding, and struggling even more in the damned oppressive heat, shot after shot of whiskey was landing in the poor ferret's stomach and leaving the line between his mission and his character increasingly blurred.
It was only a matter of time before he snapped.
"Well," the big cat drawled, pulling a considerable pile of poker chips in his direction, "I reckon you two must be just about cleaned out."
Sully leapt to his feet, wobbling only a bit before he drew and charged the phasgun.
"Well, I reckon yer cheatin'!"
Emmet rolled his eyes. Evidently Sully was not aware that this wasn't a movie.
If Victor hadn't already guessed that their covers were false, all his doubts were now dispelled.
===
"Is that... is that him?"
It would only have been possible to see the color draining from Sully's face if the ferret had been shaved.
Up until the moment he and Emmet set foot inside the saloon, the wombat's assistant had been all smiles and swagger, as if this was all one big vacation, an opportunity to play cowboy in a real wild west town. The gravity of what they were doing—the natural laws that had been twisted to near breaking even to get here—didn't make an impact.
But everyone has the same reaction to recognizing a living paradox. The locals here must not have been up on their paleontology, or they'd likely have something to say about a saber tooth tiger sitting in their midst.
"An extinct species." Emmet muttered under his breath. "If he's not the interloper, I'd bet the NECESSITY he knows who is."
"Not him. Him." Sully pointed in what he hoped what was a furtive movement.
Emmet saw it too, at least he thought he did. His wombat eyes had adjusted quickly to the low light of the saloon, but something about the shadows in this place must have been playing tricks on them.
Was that the same caribou who had dropped off the doll?
He was seated at a table next to the prime suspect. The two of them were locked in a game of poker with two canines who didn't have the sense of being temporal anomalies. Judging from a heated argument that was erupting, the saber cat was wiping the floor with them. One of them shouted a few choice curses before both got up and stormed off, the spurs on their boots clinking as they brushed past the two "travelers" and towards the exit.
While this happened, the gears in Emmet's head turned.
"Crooked horns," he blurted out.
Sully peered at his employer quizzically.
"Our client had crooked antlers." He gestured surreptitiously at the reindeer. "This one doesn't. It's a coincidence."
Breathing a sigh of relief, seeing as contending with one time traveler was complicated enough, Emmet screwed up his face the way he always did when he was on the verge of coming to a firm decision. "Is the phasgun ready?"
Sully patted the butt of the gun holstered on his hip. "Charged and primed," he whispered.
The "phasgun" being the key to this mission: their wildcard. Emmet didn't exactly have the ability to conduct a lot of testing, but he designed it, so he was confident enough it would do its job.
When fired, the device would project a sheath-decoherence field, the effect being immediate paralysis—if not an outright tau-hold—on any living being not native to this time period. While Emmet perfected its mechanisms, Sully had fitted it into a "period" chassis. As long as the gun wasn't activated, no one would guess that it wasn't just a simple pistol.
Emmet brought two phasguns along with them, and concealed the spare near the NECESSITY's hiding space. While he had some misgivings about handing the other one to Sully, he felt it would be less fitting for his "character" to carry a revolver than his partner's.
"Good. Remember what I told you."
"Only for emergencies." Sully solemnly repeated the instructions.
"Well then. We can't assume we'll get anywhere just standing around," the inventor grunted. "We may never have a better chance to get what we came here for. Follow my lead."
"But—"
But the old wombat was already straightening his hat and sauntering over to the table. Sully tugged at his neckerchief and followed, distinctly swaggerless.
The first test passed quickly. The anomaly did not appear to recognize them (and neither did the caribou). Both seemed perfectly accommodating of a pair of "foreigners" joining their game.
"Foreigner" being Emmet's cover story specifically. As he couldn't imitate a western twang to save his life, he instead affected an English accent and claimed to be a professor of Paleontology from London, here to study the region's unique fossils (all the while he tried gauging the cat's reactions to his choices of terminology. Nothing significant was noted). Sully's natural accent was far closer to the local variety, so the ferret was simply a guide: hired help who knew the area and wasn't afraid of a little digging.
As the game got underfoot, Emmet quickly saw that he and his partner were giving far more information than they were getting.
The "extinct" card player deflected every attempt to discover his identity ("Victor" was the only name he gave), or what his business was ("cooling his heels" was the most he'd admit). He had the vague look of an outlaw about him, prompting Emmet to remind himself that this wasn't a movie. A lot of people out here looked like that.
Meanwhile, the familiar-looking cervid had little of anything to say. Judging from some of Victor's passing remarks, he worked at a nearby bank or financial institution. But he rarely spoke unless he was spoken to first, and he never spoke over Victor.
They're in league, Emmet thought to himself. Curious.
Hadn't Bryce mentioned something about a white cat?
Question after question arose in his mind, but no answers were forthcoming. Was the smilodon working alone? Where was his time machine?
Did he already know the future? Because he sure seemed to be winning hand after hand. They were rapidly losing what little funds (counterfeit though they had to be) they'd thought to bring along.
Sully had noticed this too. The whole time Emmet was struggling with his fact finding, and struggling even more in the damned oppressive heat, shot after shot of whiskey was landing in the poor ferret's stomach and leaving the line between his mission and his character increasingly blurred.
It was only a matter of time before he snapped.
"Well," the big cat drawled, pulling a considerable pile of poker chips in his direction, "I reckon you two must be just about cleaned out."
Sully leapt to his feet, wobbling only a bit before he drew and charged the phasgun.
"Well, I reckon yer cheatin'!"
Emmet rolled his eyes. Evidently Sully was not aware that this wasn't a movie.
If Victor hadn't already guessed that their covers were false, all his doubts were now dispelled.
Category All / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Male
Size 2250 x 1237px
>.> climax moment developing, awesome!!
Shame he is not real Bryce...I would have liked them four to be good pals :3
Ok so....the distorter can....paralyze folks that are outside their time lines....just like...Sully and Emmet right now....noticing the detail that Victor in the bottom left corner is about to draw....AND...you said those distorter are just camouflage like regular guns while unactive...so...Sully might be one on the real disadvantage, depending on how many -time- had Victor had to play around in his character...also...even by keeping the looking, Emmet had had way the most practice on aiming and shooting at his private section in burrow prime..why to go with that risky decision???
Shame he is not real Bryce...I would have liked them four to be good pals :3
Ok so....the distorter can....paralyze folks that are outside their time lines....just like...Sully and Emmet right now....noticing the detail that Victor in the bottom left corner is about to draw....AND...you said those distorter are just camouflage like regular guns while unactive...so...Sully might be one on the real disadvantage, depending on how many -time- had Victor had to play around in his character...also...even by keeping the looking, Emmet had had way the most practice on aiming and shooting at his private section in burrow prime..why to go with that risky decision???
Three out of the four characters here are time travelers (Bryce's ancestor has no clue), but Victor is much better at playing his "character" than Emmet & Sully are.
Note that Victor still has a lazy posture. Sully's outburst didn't surprise him, and he's not about to straighten his back just because some young punk pulled a gun on him. His hand is still drifting towards his weapon just in case, but he's keeping his eye on Sully's pistol. He's 90% sure the ferret doesn't have it in him—it's what the gun is that intrigues him.
As to why Sully has the gun, this is the first time Emmet has done a "mission." I'm sure he was just having Sully hold onto it for him, and really had in mind an "okay, let's sneak up behind him" kind of scenario.
Lesson learned: Sully has a temper when he thinks he's being cheated, and he can't tolerate alcohol.
Note that Victor still has a lazy posture. Sully's outburst didn't surprise him, and he's not about to straighten his back just because some young punk pulled a gun on him. His hand is still drifting towards his weapon just in case, but he's keeping his eye on Sully's pistol. He's 90% sure the ferret doesn't have it in him—it's what the gun is that intrigues him.
As to why Sully has the gun, this is the first time Emmet has done a "mission." I'm sure he was just having Sully hold onto it for him, and really had in mind an "okay, let's sneak up behind him" kind of scenario.
Lesson learned: Sully has a temper when he thinks he's being cheated, and he can't tolerate alcohol.
OOOOOOOOOOOHHHH, he knows he doesn't have killer's eyes, just like rattlesnake Jake, how cool is that!!!
You got it on the nose. Emmet knows that Sully can be a wildcard, but he's never seen this side of him before. Sully can be fierce when he thinks he's being cheated.
If Emmet is wise, he'll take this into consideration. If Sully ever came to believe that Emmet was cheating him, things might get very ugly.
If Emmet is wise, he'll take this into consideration. If Sully ever came to believe that Emmet was cheating him, things might get very ugly.
The face you make when everything can go wrong, does go wrong, and continues to go wrong.
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