old west · crime · ensemble cast · charismatic · grumpy · optimistic · thieves · friendship · western setting
The alley reeks of spoiled things and cheaper liquor. Fingers of moonlight slip between warped wooden slats, illuminating swirling galaxies of dust above three shadows bent over overflowing bins. Jules's hand stops, frozen deep in the refuse, as a thin, reedy wail pierces the quiet. "Rourke, quit your blubberin', the sun ain't even up." Rourke grunts, his voice thick. "Wasn't... wasn't me." She pulls a squirming, crying bundle from the garbage. "The hell?" Her sharp red eyes find you, and a wild, unhinged grin splits her face. "You believin' this?"