The year is 1875...

The frontier is being steadily conquered. Settlements are popping up left and right. It's up to the lawmen to tame the land and turn it into proper civilization.

In some areas, such a task is harder than others. Especially in the cattle town of Angel's Peak.

The town is situated on a wide plateau, right under the sun and the sky, hence its name. On the surface, it's an unassuming little place that sustains itself off the buying and selling of cattle.

Dusty paths part in the wake of the many livestock yards throughout town. The buildings are quaint, simply-built and compact. It has all the essentials: a general store, a bank, a sheriff's office, a stable. There's a railroad that runs alongside the outskirts of town.

Angel's Peak is the kind of place where everybody knows everybody, and even strangers get their share of hospitality. But when you look past it all, you'll find this town is not as holy as the name would suggest.

You'll find an underground gambling ring in the saloon's basement, lawmen being paid off with bribes, but other criminals are more blatant. Robberies, gunfights, you name it. Angel's Peak is the worst of the worst.

The problem's gotten so bad, that even the local law enforcement has started to put bounties on any offender, no matter how big or small the crime is.

It's open season, and anyone who can shoot is permitted to pitch in and help bring in criminals, dead or alive.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Noah Primeau

NOH-uh PREE-moh

His last name is of French origin, therefore would be pronounced closer to pree-MOH amongst French speakers, but since he was born and raised in the United States, it is pronounced as PREE-moh by Americans.

Meaning Of Name

Noah — Rest or comfort.

Primeau — First or foremost.

Other Names/Nicknames

Tahatan (tuh-HAH-tan) — His traditional Lakota name which translates to hawk.

Gender + Pronouns

Male | He/him

Sexuality

He's never given much thought to it, but as far as he's aware, he is straight, only having been attracted to women in his lifetime.

Age

23 years old. He actually doesn't know his own age for certain, just knows that he is an adult, but he is for sure 23 years old.

Ethnicity

Mixed. His mother was a Sioux Lakota woman and his father a French-Canadian trapper.

Background

As is stated above, he is the son of a French-Canadian trapper and a Sioux Lakota woman. His parents met through his father's fur trade with his mother's small family band. His parents married (though not formally, but they were wedded in their hearts), and Noah — or Tahatan, as he was referred to at that time — was eventually born.

He lived with his mother and her family, with his father joining them. Life was good, until a settlement was built near their home, wanting to use the land for ranching.

Tensions brewed over who had rights to the plains, until anger on both sides boiled over, and the settlers had raided the camp of the Natives. They pillaged, they killed. Noah's mother and aunts were taken captive, his father went off to rescue them, and that was the last time he ever saw his parents.

Noah and his cousins were taken, eventually being placed into a boarding school at the closest town, which was already well-established.

The boarding school was overcrowded, the "teachers" were cruel. It was here that his name was changed to Noah Primeau, taking his father's surname. The boarding school was unforgettable, in the worst possible way. He was stripped of his identity from his mother's side of the family.

He arrived there when he was 6 years old and ran away when he was 14. From that point on, it's been him on his own. He's been travelling on his own, no clear destination in his mind, doing anything to survive.

Now, his travels have landed him in Angel's Peak.

Appearance

Noah has light, amber-brown skin that is weathered from long days spent outside. His hair is straight, black, and long. It used to be longer, but because that's not practical, he makes sure it doesn't reach his waist. He tames it into a low ponytail on windy days.

His eyes are dark, intelligent. They are almond-shaped, with slightly drooping lids that make him look sensitive. The brows are thick, low-set, with a mild arch, giving him a naturally pensive expression.

His lips are in the middle of being plump and thin, the corners always turned up just a tiny bit in a small, gentle smile. He has a long, straight nose.

His face is masculine yet youthful, and is usually free from facial hair. He has high, prominent cheekbones which taper off into a firm jaw. He would look almost aristocratic, oddly enough, if not for the scars on his left cheek. The scars were both gained from the same incident, and go in the same direction, the only difference being is that the upper one is shorter and the bottom longer.

Noah has broad shoulders that slant off into a lean, athletic frame. He's just strong enough for most manual labor, which is how he's made his living for years. He isn't bulky or broad, though is fairly sturdy, with decent muscle tone in his arms. He would face trouble going up against men who are bigger than him. Most of his strength lies in his legs. He's rather tall and leggy, standing at 6'1.

His attire, since he's on the move, is more or less the same. Jeans, a plain collared shirt, maybe a duster coat depending on the weather, a pair of worn boots. He always wears his father's old cowboy hat, and a beaded necklace that was a gift from his mother.

Personality

When you get to know Noah, the first word that comes to mind upon seeing him is: fortitude. For all that he's been through, he's come out the other side and survived. His experiences have hardened him, not made him mean necessarily, but certainly changed him.

For one thing, he's not as trusting as he used to be. You wouldn't know it, as he's usually warm to most people he comes across — unless they give him a reason not to be right off the bat. He knows the world can be mean, and that doesn't mean he'll be the same, but he always has one eye looking over his shoulder.

Noah has a tendency towards sarcastic humor, not mocking, more so teasing. Almost in an older brother kinda fashion, only more lighthearted. This is especially so in situations where humor is the last thing that's needed, because cracking jokes seems to keep him grounded. To keep him from cracking.

Noah really struggles with a broken sense of identity and feeling as if he lacks purpose. This holds him back from forming relationships with people (other than the fact he is constantly treated like a societal outsider) — believing that he has no connection to who he is, that he is just a shell of a person living an unstable and unsettled life, that he is undeserving of care or even love.

He's the kind of person who has many acquaintances but no close relationships. He has it in his head that when someone gets too close to him, he'll lose them.

Strengths

Endurance — He is both mentally and physically persistant, it takes a lot of get him to give up.

Long-range combat — He's best when he shoots from a distance, it allows him to focus.

Ambushing — Whether the prey is animal or human, he's good at sneaking before making an attack.

Weaknesses

Close-range combat — Getting in a scuffle confuses him. Also, he's better with longarm weapons than a pistol or revolver.

Trust — Or, more accurately, a lack thereof. He doesn't expect to be shown kindness, or to be helped, so when someone wants to, it's all the more challenging.

Commitment — He has difficulty with the idea of settling down in one place, and is just aimless in general.

Occupation

He's worked many jobs, but for the past year he's been a bounty hunter, which seems to be quick and easy money with the presence of lawlessness in surrounding towns.

≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫

Catrìona Fairbairn

ca-TREE-na FAIR-bairn

Meaning of Name

Catrìona— Pure or Clear

Fairbairn— Beautiful Child or Fair Child

Other Names/Nicknames

Cat— Simply a shortened version of her name

Gender + Pronouns

Female | She/Her

Sexuality

Straight, though she has been known to seduce men and women, should it benefit her. However, her sexual and romantic interests do lie in men alone.

Age

21 years old.

Ethnicity

Scottish through and through. Both of her parents were born in the Scottish Highlands, though she was raised in America.

Background

Born of the highlands, Catrìona survived the journey to America along with her parents at a mere ten months old. Her father was a warrior in Scotland, often fighting to protect the clan and the land they resided on. He was a skilled farrier as well, however much of their money was made through his more dangerous side of life. Her mother was raised right along side her father, and from the moment they laid eyes upon each other, they knew they'd marry.

Marry they did, and it wasn't long after that they were expecting Catrìona. However, her father managed to get into quite a bit of trouble with the law in Scotland, so once they had the opportunity, they gathered up their little life and set sail for the States. It had been an easy journey, and upon arriving they had easily set up with their fresh start in one of the nearby settlements.

Life was good for a year or two, but then her mother fell ill. The sickness ravaged her body and mind, swiftly claiming her life. Her father spiraled without the love of his life, and due to the resemblance that Catrìona bore to her mother, he had began to resent his daughter. Their relationship was strained for many years, leading them to fight quite often until Catrìona fled from home at 12 years old.

From there, she found her own way while fighting tooth and nail to become a woman capable of surviving in a world ruled by men. Being every ounce of the rough daughter that her father raised, Catrìona quickly took to a life of lawlessness, as she found something exhilarating about living life on the edge.

Appearance

Despite spending plenty of time beneath the sun, Catrìona retains a soft, porcelain complexion year round. However, she is susceptible to burning if she doesn't have proper shading, so it's not uncommon to see a pink hue tinging the highlights of her body. Her hair, which falls to her waist in a sea of curls, is the shade of molten copper. She refuses to cut her hair even though it's impractical. It's all she has of her mother, and she refuses to lose it.

Her eyes are bright and cunning, and the icy blue color makes it almost seem as though she can stare straight into your soul. Their shape are sharp, framed by long lashes, which give her a fox like look. Her brows are delicately arched and often slightly lowered, giving her a more focused expression.

Her lips are pretty and plump, typically rouged with a hint of red for a stronger pop of color. They're typically a touch pursed into a soft pout or curved into a gentle smile. Her nose is slender and ever so slightly up turned at the end, giving it a button shape.

Her face is delicate and feminine, still retaining some youth despite the hell that she has gone through. Her cheekbones are high and full, sloping down into a soft jawline. Her cheeks and nose even have a soft smattering of copper colored freckles, though she's not particularly fond of them. She's truly rather pretty, but she has her own insecurities beneath her confident demeanor. A plethora of scars litter her body from the neck down from multiple incidents. They make for great stories, if she can be made to talk.

Catrìona has slender shoulders and a slim waist that flare out into feminine, curvy hips and strong, thick thighs. She doesn't have much upper body muscle, but she could be considered decently toned for a woman. She's still no match for the strength of a man, however, which is something she truly detests. She's a touch short at 5'3", giving her a slightly stocky look.

Despite her living on the fly lifestyle, Catrìona still prefers to adorn dresses. The allure of a pretty young thing in light-weighted frilly skirts and busty tops often leads people to underestimate her, and she takes full advantage of this. She pairs such outfits with boots, however, preferring a more reliable footwear when the occasion calls for running.

Personality

With Cat, you never know what you're going to get. She's a wild card, unpredictable and incredibly spontaneous. One never knows what she's thinking, and honestly, she might not either until she just makes choice. She has learned that life is unkind and terribly unpredictable, so she adapted to be the same way to avoid getting hurt.

Catrìona may come off as trusting, but it is almost certainly a ruse to make others feel safe. She's loyal only to herself, having been scorned one too many times to truly place her trust and faith in another person. She's a thief and a liar whenever the situation benefits her, and she rarely has remorse about her ways.

She is extremely flirty, especially in tense or serious situations. She enjoys getting a rise out of people or seeing them squirm. It's a bit sadistic, perhaps, but she does know when to stop. If anything, she flirts just to make herself feel better when she doesn't know what to do. It eases the tension for her and often puts her into a better mood.

Truly, Catrìona is just scared. She's scared of commitment, of connection, and of feelings. She's terrified of being hurt and forgotten or left behind, often causing her to lash out when her emotions get too real. She'll destroy relationships just to save herself from whatever future heartbreak she thinks lies ahead. She has so much love and affection to give, but it lies beneath many layers of stone and fear.

She is the type of person who can make "friends" easy. She is likable and charismatic, but she's never had a connection that she's felt is worth fighting for, though perhaps that is because no one has ever fought for her.

Strengths

Close Combat— She's not the strongest woman, but she is very fast. She can make quick work of a person with a knife or her fists, so long she can get within arms length of them. She's not a terrible shot with a pistol, either.

Persuasion— A silver tongued seductress, Catrìona has perfected the art of convincing others to do what she wants. She'll lie and lead you into temptation with no remorse, so long she comes out on top.

Agile— Swift and light on her feet, Catrìona is able to out maneuver most of anyone. When she can't fight, she'll run. Her feet aren't the only quick things, however. Her mind is just as agile, often making lightning fast choices when the need arises.

Weaknesses

Long-Range Combat— Distance often makes her feel as if she's lost control of the situation. It makes her sloppy and nervous, so she'll always seek to get closer.

Loyalty/Commitment— She's never had anyone be loyal to her. Everyone in her life has either left her or drove her away in the name of someone else, so she chooses to leave first to avoid being hurt further.

Reckless/Impulsive— Catrìona rarely gives any prior thought to the actions she takes. While being sponatenous could be helpful, her impulsive actions have been known to land her in more trouble due to lack of planning. It's gotten her caught more times than she can count, but it's also saved her too.

Occupation

Whatever she so desires, truly, though she admittedly makes much of her money through lies and thievery.

The sun was making its way up the horizon, gradual and slow. Almost reluctant. Tired and drowsy much like the quiet plains on such a morning like this. However, Angel's Peak was racing with activity. The townsfolk were carrying out their chores like worker bees, eager to get done before the sun rose and the day became unbearably hot — not uncommon in the summertime.

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Noah would ride up to the town along a path of cracked dirt. He'd halt his horse, and pushed up the brim of his hat — he had stopped in front of a wooden archway that signified that this was the entrance to the town. A sign on the archway read: Welcome to Angel's Peak in off-white paint, which was peeling from exposure to the elements.

He'd only heard of Angel's Peak in passing, when folk from neighboring towns would describe the place as more or less, a lawless hellscape. He also knew that people talked. A lot. And usually twisted the truth, or told complete lies.

Though, if this town was as bad it was claimed to be, having more crooks to wrangle would benefit him financially. But Noah wasn't the type to hold his breath, wait and see, — nothing was guaranteed.

With a nudge of his legs, he walked his horse under the archway and towards the town, ready to find out what Angel's Peak was like for himself.

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The layout of Angel's Peak was very simplistic. There was one main path, long and wide, going in and out of the town, with all the buildings lined up along it, two rows across from each other. Squares of grass were set aside for livestock yards.

The place was as busy as a big city, and Noah wondered where all the people came from. There were houses interspersed between the businesses, but not enough to sustain the gathering horde.

As he ventured deeper into town, he realized the crowd must've come neighboring ranches to participate in what looked to be a cattle auction. It was something he noticed but observed with a lack of interest.

Though, it did make him more mindful of his surroundings — he had unintentionally blocked a pair of scruffy fellas who'd were driving a herd of cattle they were trying to sell. Noah had apologized, but the men just passed him without so much as a word. Ignored. That's how it usually went.

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Noah approached the livery stable, which sat away from the other buildings, and had room for multiple small pastures on the outside. He was intending to board his horse there and take a look around town.

He stopped his horse nearby and slipped out of the saddle, tying the mare to a hitching post along its outside wall. Then he headed in, hit with the smell of earth and grassy musk of hay. Dust particles floated through the air.

A spindly man popped out from around a stall, his hair shockingly orange, thin on his head and above his mouth in the form of a moustache.

"Can I help you?" the man greeted in a clipped voice, brushing grime off his calloused palms. He had narrow, weasel-like eyes that glared upon Noah, hollow and unfriendly.

Noah couldn't tell if he was like this naturally or whether he was being cold towards him specifically. He didn't want to find out.

"I'm looking for board my horse here..." he estimated about how long he'd have to do this, "For three days." He thought he might be here longer, but he'd worry about that later. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a mixture of gold and silver coins, because the stables usually charged similar prices in this area.

The man's eyes lit up. He accepted the money and said, "You can take that stall over there," then pointed to the one next to Noah, on his right side.

Noah nodded. He exchanged no more words with the man, and went to retrieve his horse. He put her in the stall and started to untack her.

The man, who Noah assumed owned the barn, looked over the horse from a distance with a curious nod. "What breed is she?"

Noah looked up in the process of slipping off her saddle. "A Quarter Horse and draft mix-breed."

It was an odd pairing of breeds. Noah assumed the mare was created from an accident of some kind, because he bought her for less than nothing. Must've been an embarrassment to her old owner because she hadn't even been given a name. Unwanted. Perhaps that's why Noah had been drawn to her.

He had named her Sparrow, because she was brown like the bird of her namesake and well... Noah couldn't think of anything better. He thought it was suitable enough.

The owner of the stable hummed. "That's something you don't see every day."

Noah glanced at him. "Sure is." Then he left the barn, his eyes now cast towards the saloon in the center of town.

Noah slid through the saloon's doors. It had been an intentional move to come at this time of day, there was less chance for trouble. Most of the patrons were tired, older men slumped over their beverages atop barstools or in the company of each other at tables.

Noah went unnoticed until he walked past a group that were playing a card game for fun instead of gambling, by the looks of it. He somehow caught the eye of the man sitting closest to his side, a wiry-haired gent whose beard and brows were whisker-like, shooting up in surprise then furrowing in confusion. His friends followed his gaze and sported similar expressions.

Noah just tipped his hat, modestly, and greeted them with a howdy before walking away. The stares didn't bother him anymore, he got used to them the way you got used to a cold wind.

He approached the bar and plopped down onto the nearest stool. The barkeep moseyed over, looking as beaten-up and worn-out like everyone else here.

"What'll it be, mister?"

"Jus' a beer. Need a good pick-me-up."

The older man let out a heavy snort of laughter, sounding like a horse when he did so. "Don't we all?" he cynically remarked before going to get Noah's drink.

Noah's expression brightened into a short grin. Nice conversation came far and few between, though the idea that the man was being friendly because Noah was a customer with money had popped into his mind.

Either way, he was inspired to try and strike up conversation with whoever may be next to him. He looked to his side only to find a lady, around his age perhaps, propped against the bar and nursing a glass of whiskey.

He couldn't see her face, for it was obscured by her curls, falling down in a red-brown cascade. Like water at sunset. Judging by her attire, Noah almost took her for a working girl — a painted lady — whatever the term was out in these parts.

But he knew those kinds of women only came out at night, when the lonely men filtered into the saloons. Maybe, instead, she was the daughter of a well-endowed rancher who was visiting town for the cattle auction.

Noah supposed he wouldn't find out until he talked to her. He cleared his throat in the hopes of getting her attention.

"Fine day, isn't it, miss?" he greeted. As he started talking, the barkeep had made his way back over and set a bottle of beer in front of him before slipping away, but not without glancing at the woman. A glance that Noah missed.

Catrìona paid no mind to the door as she heard it swinging open, her gaze instead cast lazily upon the scuffed counter. It wasn't uncommon for people to come and go through the day, but regardless she always welcomed the presence of a newcomer. It would give her someone to watch and study, and if they were a stranger, sometimes it would give her a new pocket to pick, if she could distract them well enough.

Surprised but unbothered as he sat next to her, she sipped from her glass again, listening to the exchange between the stranger and old barkeep. Judging by her lack of familiarity, she assumed he was new in town, likely there for the auction like many others.

The man seemed rather friendly, which was a touch uncommon there in Angel's Peak. Most of anyone would look at you with a scowl and speak with a shortness to their words. He sounded... pleasant. It would be a nice change of pace for the time being.

She supposed she wasn't terribly surprised when she heard clearing his throat, actively catching her attention before he spoke directly to her. Cat raised her head, her gaze catching that of Willem as he glanced her way. She returned the look, her lips curving into a soft smile that had the older man shaking his head as he moseyed away.

Turning to look at the man, she gave a polite nod of her head as she swept some of the copper strands behind her ear. "Indeed it is, lovely," she spoke, her voice tinged with the Scottish accent of her heritage. She shifted on her stool to face him better, her legs crossing at the knee.

She studied him, trying to make out what kind of person he was, but she couldn't quite decide. He certainly didn't seem the sort to be like most people that resided in town, but then again, not everyone were exactly as they seemed.

"I haven't seen your face around here before. Are you in town for the auction?" She questioned politely, nails tapping gently against her glass before she rose it to her rosy lips for another swig. She could feel a few sets of eyes passing curiously over them now and again, the men just as curious as to what the newcomer was doing and who he was. If anyone could sweet talk their way to information, it would most certainly be Catrìona.