704 replies to this topic

[Thore]

I'm looking forward to reading about Tex and the Sheriff being hella drunk in the next installment.

I think alot of us agree, I know I do.

[JimmyxxCindy4EVER]

@Mary: As am I!

[underwater]

The truth waited, sad and small and expectant, like a caged songbird watching the world from behind a parlor windowpane. Though it might sing, or flutter its tiny wings, or pull out its feathers one by one in lonely agony, it would stay there forever. Safe. Trapped. Apart. Only she could open the door and set it free.

 

love this part!

 

Can't wait to hear Tex's sob story lol

 

 

Corinne

[TheKingInTheNorth]

That was a good chapter. This is seriously well-written. I liked learning more about Neutron's backstory, and look forward to learning more about Tex next chapter (and, of course, to both of them getting drunk ). I liked the tie-ins to real-life events, people, and inventions.

This chapter is also a testament to just how strong both of these characters are. With a scene that is essentially just two characters talking, you need those characters to be pretty damn interesting to keep someone's attention. So, the fact that I was reading this so intently shows how well you've built these characters, and how well you wrote their stories and dialogue here.

[Mara=^.^=]

Why thank you!

 

It took many, many revisions to elevate the dialogue to "interesting"

 

 

~*Mara*~ = ^.^ =

[Pigquet3]

This chapter was definitely everything I wanted it to be. I am loving their interactions so much, and the game, drinking, and questions make it even more engaging.
 

"There’s no rule against asking the same question twice. Or three times. Or all night, until you pass out from intoxication, or give me what I want.” It was at that part where I said, "Ohoho, my god, I love this." I mean, shit. Conniving bastard. That's just devious. He was right, that is a strange question to dodge, which makes the coming answer all the more intriguing.
 

I royally suck at predictions, so I have none as of now for Tex's story, but I am greatly looking forward to it, as well as them both getting super drunk together (Thore is right, I think we all are). 

 

You're still writing the atmosphere and the characters extremely well! Whether they're bantering or honestly communicating, lying or sharing, manipulative or sympathetic, they're a ton of fun to read. And you're a horrible tease for making us wait an entire week for the answers to your evil cliffhangers.
 

 

 

 

  Pigquet

 

P.S. I also like that even in this universe Jimmy wasted his genius talent on a shoebot and burping soda.

[Mara=^.^=]

P.S. I also like that even in this universe Jimmy wasted his genius talent on a shoebot and burping soda.

 

Lololol yes, yes he did.

 

~*Mara*~ = ^.^ =

[Thore]

Lololol yes, yes he did.

 

~*Mara*~ = ^.^ =

So my question is this, why the heck has our universe's Jimmy not given us such amazing oddities... why did we get the boring Jimmy who does nothing with his life and doesn't even have the decency to almost destroy his town and get his name out there for us to hear about.

[Katia11]

NO. YOU CANNOT STOP THERE. I SHALL NOT ALLOW IT. (WEEPS)

 

SEXUAL TENSION. SO MUCH SEXUAL TENSION. MARA. (SCREAMS)

[Mara=^.^=]

Consider yourself lucky that the next chapter is ready to go, and that you won't have to wait another 4 friggin months like last time I am a terrible updater

 

~*Mara*~ = ^.^ =

[Katia11]

I am lucky! Thank you, Mara for all your hard work. Really. This story is just so wonderful and I adore it to pieces.

[JimmyxxCindy4EVER]

Two words concerning this fic, Mara: TOTALLY AWESOME!!!

[Mara=^.^=]

Finally colored that pic:

 

 

 

~*Mara*~ = ^.^ =

[JimmyxxCindy4EVER]

Officially faved on DA and saved to my phone! Sheer brilliance, my friend!

[Mara=^.^=]

Well, I'm out of the hospital, so I guess I'll go ahead and post the next section. Writing this chapter took foreverrrrrrr

 

***********************************************************************************************************

 

“We were going to lose everything,” she whispered.

 

“What? I can't hear you over all this racket. You'll have to speak up.”

 

It was too much, and something inside her snapped. “I said, we were going to lose everything, all right?!” The strength of her outburst surprised her, and she fell back against the seat, hands clasped over her mouth. After a moment she let them drop, and she looked away, cheeks burning. It was a good thing Libby was playing the piano, or the entire saloon might have heard.

 

“Go on.”

 

“I don’t want to go on.”

 

“Do it anyway.”

 

Tex didn’t know where to start, so she closed her eyes and let her memories take her by the hand. They led her back, back to that dusty little town from yesteryear, and for a moment she was home again. There it all was, in living color: the sturdy whitewashed house, gleaming bright in the summer sun...the porch with its rocking chair, slanted with light...the vegetable garden out back, the sun-baked grass, the winding path to the old oak tree...

 

Tex searched for the right words. Improbably, Mr. Neutron's tale supplied them.

 

“You were right before,” she began. “When you said that brilliance in a child is a dangerous thing.” She toyed with the hem of her blouse; it had started to fray along the bottom. “Growing up, I was the smartest kid in school. I was the best at spelling. The best at sums. The best at recitation. I could memorize a book and repeat it back, line for line, without a single mistake. I could outrun all the other children, outplay all the boys at stick-ball, and spit watermelon seeds farther than anyone else I knew. As you might imagine, I was completely full of myself.”

 

He gave a half-smile. “It’s too bad we didn’t grow up in the same town. I would’ve knocked you down a peg or two.”

 

“Heh, yeah. Too bad.”

 

Her brow furrowed as another memory surfaced. There she was, at eleven, standing behind the old millpond, surrounded by a group of jeering boys. She'd gotten too uppity, and they wanted payback. They pinched her and pulled her hair, and three of them held her down while the others kicked sand in her face. Pain. Humiliation. Anger. After that, she went home, stole her father's revolver out of his dresser, and practiced until she could shoot 30 crabapples off a fence without missing a single one. The boys didn’t mess with her again after that.

 

“When I was eleven years old, I learned to use a gun,” she said. “By God was I good. I used to swagger around town like an idiot, challenging passersby to shooting contests. I won every match. Started getting quite the reputation for myself, but I didn't care. I enjoyed feeling like I was bigger and better than everyone else.”

 

“Did your parents…approve of these antics?”

 

“My mother worried about my ‘coarse behavior’, but my father reassured her that greatness often comes from the unorthodox. And nothing pleased my mother quite so much as having a daughter who aspired to greatness.”

 

“So you kept shooting.”

 

“And more. I started reading my father’s law books, and before long I decided that I was going to become America’s first lady lawyer. I knew it would be difficult, but I was young and proud, and I longed for fame. I didn’t think anything could stop me.”

 

“What happened?”

 

What happened, indeed. The sheer banality of it still galled her, even now, all these years later.

 

“The weather happened, Neutron. The summer I turned fifteen, there was a drought. The town I'd lived in my whole life just…dried up. Overnight, the land became worthless. My father's wealth was tied to that land – to our property, and to the courthouse – and as the town died, our livelihood died with it. We weren’t destitute, but we were close.”

 

Tex turned her gaze upward, toward the rafters. Another memory: sorrow, and the salty taste of tears. The sticky warmth of her own breath as she cried into her pillowcase, mourning the loss of the only home she'd ever known. The knowledge that she would never sleep another night in her childhood bedroom, never pass another day reading in the parlor chair, never spend another afternoon with her schoolyard friends. So many nevers.

 

“We had to leave,” she continued, “but no one would buy our house or our acreage, and we couldn’t take all our belongings with us. We packed up the good silver and jewelry to sell elsewhere. We took some clothes…food…a few legal documents…whatever we could fit into the wagon. My father tried to put a good face on it, but I knew the truth. He was heartbroken, and my mother was terrified.”

 

Tex let out a long, wistful sigh. Her gaze moved down the wall and settled upon the pack of cards, and the Sheriff's own gaze followed.

 

“Shall I deal another hand?” he asked. “It's only fair. I should have to earn your story.”

 

“No. Don’t bother.”

 

At this point, the game was nothing more than a pretext, and they both knew it. She'd gone too far to stop. He leaned back and waited for her to continue, and after a pause, she did.

 

“It shames me to admit that my ambition ruled me, even during our greatest crisis. I wanted to go East and pursue higher education. I had lofty dreams, and if I was going to achieve them, I would need money, power, influence – all things in short supply when you’re a young woman from a dried-up town in Texas. I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

 

“So…what? You ran away?”

 

“Mm, not exactly. Remember those prison visits I told you about? How I used to go to the jailhouse to blow off steam? Well, the night before we were supposed to leave, I went there. The place was deserted, save for the one prisoner still awaiting transfer. He saw me standing in front of the Wanted Posters. I kept thinking...life would be so easy, if only I could get my hands on some of that reward money. Evidently my countenance betrayed my greed, because he called me over.”

 

Tex saw herself in hindsight, standing there outside the prison cell, all blonde and fair-skinned and rosy-cheeked. How deceptively innocent she must have looked in her peach gingham dress, moments before discussing murder with a sun-leathered con.

 

“We talked for almost an hour. He was a bitter old cuss who seemed to burn with hatred – and he especially hated the O’Healy gang. They'd betrayed him during a recent bank heist, or so he told me. He wanted vengeance. I wanted money. In exchange for my help, he offered to tell me where O'Healy was hiding out. He said the bounty was mine, as long as I killed the son of a bitch.”

 

“And you took him up on that offer?”

 

She exhaled. “Look, I know what you're thinking, but you have to understand – when you're that desperate, every mirage looks like an oasis.”

 

“You pursued O’Healy, then.”

 

“I did. I stole one of our horses in the dead of night and rode out, my father’s revolver strapped to my hip. Seamus was in a neighboring town. I thought I could find him, finish him off, and be back in a couple of days, laden with enough cash for a fresh start.” She shook her head. “Such hubris. It nauseates me.”

 

“What went wrong?”

 

“I didn’t think things through, that's what went wrong. Seamus was a drunkard and a hothead. If I'd had a lick of sense, I would’ve plied him with alcohol, gotten him alone, and slit his throat. Instead, I challenged him to a duel. I gunned him down in the street, in broad daylight, while half the town watched on.”

 

Tex clutched at her shot glass. The Ace of Spades lay on the table, forgotten, as she strayed deeper into the labyrinth.

 

“I killed him. It's funny...I don't even remember pulling the trigger.” All she could remember was the gunsmoke, and how it parted as she'd walked toward the body, yielding like the Red Sea before Moses. “I was shaking like a leaf when I pried the Emerald Ire from his fingers. The handle was still warm. It was...I don't know. I threw up right there on the road. Then I went to the jailhouse to collect my reward.”

 

Mr. Neutron winced. Tex fought to maintain her composure. She poured herself another drink and knocked it back, but it didn't help.

 

“Trouble is,” she went on, “the town was a two-bit mud hole, and there wasn't enough money in the bank to pay out the full bounty. The local lawman told me I'd have to wait two days for the shipment of cash to arrive. So, like an idiot, I took what funds they could offer and rented myself a room above the saloon. I was so brash, so accustomed to primacy...I never stopped to think about the rest of O'Healy's gang, and how they might react to the death of their leader.”

 

“That's right,” he realized. “I almost forgot. The gang...they were O'Healy's younger brothers.”

 

“Precisely. Big Irish family...eight brothers in total. They found out where I was staying, and three of them broke into my room in the middle of the night. They were carrying a rope and butcher knives, and they would've trussed me up and tortured me if I hadn't jumped out the window.”

 

“You jumped out a second-story window?”

 

It was Tex's turn to wince. In her memories, she felt the sting of the shattering glass, followed by the lurch of free fall. She remembered lying, stunned, in a pile of hay, blood seeping from her sliced-up forearms. Then shouts from upstairs. Panic. The all-consuming need to run.

 

“It's a miracle I didn't break anything,” she said dully. “When I landed, I didn’t have time to think – I had to get out of there. I leapt atop the nearest horse and sped out into the desert. No food, no water, no money. I wasn’t even fully dressed. The only thing I had was O'Healy's gun.”

 

Tex reached for the pitcher. Her hand trembled slightly as she poured herself another shot.

 

“A couple of them pursued, but it was pitch black outside, and I had a head start. For two days I wandered that godforsaken wasteland, sunsick and delirious, until I stumbled upon a frontier town. A doxie took pity on me and nursed me back to health. She should've left me to die. The O’Healy brothers shot her in the head when they caught up with me.”

 

The Sheriff grimaced. Tex drank.

 

“I ran. Three months, Neutron – that's how long they hunted me. They pushed me westward toward Indian territory. Day after day, week after week, month after month, I ran. The bastards even hired an Apache guide to help track me down. Every time I tried to circle back, to head for civilization and safety, they cut me off. I subsisted however I could, stealing from settlers, sleeping in barns, hiking through creek beds to hide my tracks. I lived like a savage.”

 

She could still feel the gnawing hunger in her gut, still hear the eerie cries of the coyotes that stalked her path. During that hellish summer, Tex's aspirations had fallen away like cracked plaster. Her talents were worthless. Fame, fortune, a better life – meaningless. She would've sold her soul for a hot meal and a warm bed.

 

“How'd you finally get away?” he asked.

 

“You don't understand, Neutron. I didn't get away.”

 

Tex poured herself another drink. It scalded her throat on the way down, bitter and acrid, like liquid brimstone. Her body felt heavy.

 

“I killed them,” she said. “All of them. In hunting me down, the O’Healy brothers signed their own death warrants. I turned the tables on them, picked 'em off one by one.”

 

Tex pantomimed pulling her gun from its holster, then aimed the phantom pistol at the Sheriff. She tilted her head to the side, closed her left eye, and squeezed the trigger.

 

“Bang,” she said. “Oldest brother, dead. Crushed after I shot his horse out from under him.”

 

She let her arm fall – then, without warning, swung it through the air, backhanding an imaginary foe. The lawman jumped, even though he was in no danger of being hit.

 

“Second brother, dead,” she continued. “Bashed over the head with a kerosene lamp. Third brother –” she stabbed at the table with her fist “– stick through the eye. That one was messy.”

 

“And the others?” Curiosity and revulsion mingled in his voice.

 

Tex raised her gun hand again and fired three more times. “Four, five, six. All in a row, quick and clean. By then I knew what I was doing. I set up an ambush, and they walked right into it.”

 

She blew fake smoke away from her fingertip, then let her arm drop once and for all.

 

“That’s only six,” pointed out the Sheriff. “I thought you said Seamus had seven siblings.”

 

Tex couldn't focus. She was standing over the fallen bodies, gold hair streaming in the wind like some avenging angel from the Old World. She slumped forward and rested her head in the crook of her elbow.

 

“The last one...” she murmured. Her thoughts were slower now. Hazy. “The last brother. He was just a little kid. Those...animals inducted a 12-year-old boy into their gang. I didn't want to kill him. I swear I didn't. He was shaking when he approached. I tried to talk him down, but he pulled a gun on me. I remembering thinking...the gun. It was too big for his hands. I shot him.”

 

“Jesus, Vortex. I'm sorry.”

 

“It doesn't matter. Not really. In the end, I won. Those sons of bitches tried to get me, but I made it out alive.”

 

For a moment, Tex was content to lay there like a dead thing. Face down, she extended her hand and felt around for her cup. Mr. Neutron slid it into her grasp, and she sat up, bleary-eyed. He stared at her for several seconds, then waved to get Libby's attention.

 

“Miss Folfax!” he called. “Could you come here a moment?”

 

The room was starting to swim, but Tex kept her expression neutral as Libby walked over.

 

“I apologize for the imposition,” he said, “but do you think my deputy could rest her heels with you tonight? She's imbibed a fair amount of alcohol, and I feel it would be inappropriate to bring her back to my home in her current state.”

 

“Oh?” Miss Folfax's voice went up in surprise. “All right then. That won't be a problem. Just, uh...let me know when you want to turn in, Miss Deputy.”

 

The outlaw managed a nod, and Libby hurried away. Tex heard the sound of burbling liquid, and she looked over to find the Sheriff pouring himself another glass. He downed it in a single gulp.

 

“I won't let you drink alone,” he said, reaching for the pitcher. “Look. I'll have another.”

 

Tex smiled through the haze. He was being so kind. For some reason, she found herself giggling.

 

“Hey,” she whispered, tugging at his sleeve. “Hey Neutron. Let's get drunk. Absolutely, positively smashed. Both of us. Together.”

 

Amusement crossed his face. “That is...a robust change in attitude.”

 

She held her cup aloft. “Caution, meet wind,” she toasted.

 

“I'll drink to that.”

 

They emptied their cups in unison. Tex removed her hat and dragged her fingers through her hair. She was speaking again. She was laughing.

 

“I tried, you know, to go back home after,” she slurred. Was she still laughing? Why? She shook her head violently.

 

“Easy, Vortex,” he said. “Take it slow.”

 

Tex tried to concentrate. “I went back. It took ages, but I did it. All that blood on my hands, but I still tried to go back home. Can you believe it? Hey. Hey, take another drink.”

 

He complied.

 

“I met the undertaker,” she continued. “He was the only one still in town. He told me that my parents had stayed there all summer, awaiting my return. There wasn't much water, he said. The supply got tainted. Cholera. My father didn't make it.”

 

Tex trailed off. It was her fault. Her Daddy had died because he was waiting for her. Because she'd run off like a fool. She wanted to throw something.

 

“My mother left town after my father died. She went looking for me. And she just...vanished. I searched high and low. Nothing. Almost starved to death, trying to find her.” Tex rubbed the bridge of her nose. “That Apache tracker, the one the O'Healy's hired – 'member him? – he found me. Saw firsthand what I was capable of, he said. Offered me a job killin' cattle rustlers.” She shrugged. “Had to feed myself somehow.”

 

“Your mother...do you think she's still alive?”

 

“Doubt it. But I could never bring myself to leave Texas, just in case she's still out there somewhere.”

 

Tex's head lolled forward. There was so much more she wanted to tell him. How she'd gone from wanderer to bounty hunter to paid assassin. But wasn't there something else? Something she was supposed to be doing?

 

“The Ace...” she murmured, then started laughing.

 

He raised the glass to his lips again, and suddenly he was laughing too. How many was that? She'd lost track. There were beads of sweat on his face, and he took off his hat to wipe his brow.

 

“Wasn't always a...a gun-for-hire, y'know,” she managed. “Tried to go on the straight 'n narrow for awhile, but I'd got myself a reputation, see. Almost turned harlot, too, 'til I saw what that did to the girls. So I hunted outlaws. Dangerous men.” She pointed to her pelvis. “I got shot. Here. After that I decided it was safer to just...I 'unno, kill reg'lar people. Folks who weren't doing their damnedest to kill me back.”

 

She tried to take a sip from her glass, but there was nothing in it. She held it upside and shook it a few times to make sure.

 

“Anyways. Y'kill enough people for money, and it all starts to seem the same. Bounty. No bounty. Outlaw. Homesteader. Only thing't matters is hey, they're dead, and you're not. Say. Say, would ya pour me another one, Neutron?”

 

He ignored her request. “You could've settled down. Turned respectable.”

 

“Coulda. Would've been hard, though. Women like me? Men want us for a night...a week...month, tops. Not for...for the long haul. Not for marriage.”

 

Tex looked down at her boots. One of them had come unlaced. She bent down to tie it and wound up smacking her head against the table.

 

“Oww....” she moaned.

 

“There's a table there, Vortex,” he said, and for a brief instant she hated his guts. Then she saw his comically mussed-up hair, his unfocused gaze, and she wanted nothing more than to tease him. She picked up his hat and donned it; it was too big for her, and it hung on her head like a bucket.

 

“Look at me, everybody!” she said, blindly flailing about. “I'm Sheriff Neutron. I keep a cactus in my kitchen for some reason, and my dog has a metal leg.”

 

From beneath her chair, Goddard emitted a whine. Mr. Neutron only needed seconds to get in on the game. He snatched up her hat, brushed dirt from the brim, and placed it atop his own head.

 

“I have fleas,” he said.

 

“What? I do not!” she protested.

 

“Do too.”

 

“You're drunk!”

 

“So are you!”

 

The exchange required a lot of energy. Mr. Neutron slumped back against the booth, and Tex collapsed forward into the curve of her arm. The darkness she encountered there was pleasant.

 

“Mmm,” she murmured. “This feels nice. I'm glad I did this.”

 

He didn't reply, and she didn't sit up. Glasses clinked. Cutlery scraped. Piano keys fell through her mind as Libby played some sprightly chords. The world faded.

 

Blackness.

 

 

********************************************************************************

 

Welp, there you have it. I wanted to show how someone like Tex could've fallen into her current profession, without necessarily being a terrible person. In constructing AU!Cindy's backstory, I didn't have much to work with, since we don't have the same amount of material about her family as we do for Jimmy's. I decided that I'd focus on what kind of person she'd be if, in her youth, she'd always been the smartest kid in class, the best at sports, etc. - essentially, how she wouldn't turned out if Jimmy hadn't been around to force-feed her humble pie.

 

P.S. Please leave a review! I am very sick and hankerin' for some attention

P.P.S. Don't binge drink, kids! lol

 

 

HISTORICAL SHIT AND BULLSHIT SHIT

-The O'Healy gang is, of course, entirely fictional - but I did draw inspiration from the Dalton gang, a group of bank robbers from the 1890s whose members included 3 brothers. The Eagles wrote a pretty boss song about them if you're interested.

-In real life, lone bounty hunters like the kind you see in Western films were uncommon. Most wanted criminals were hunted down by lawmen or by private detectives, including those employed by the infamous Pinkerton Detective Agency, which was founded in 1850. It wasn't just the state that furnished bounties, either - private companies or persons were known to have offered rewards for the capture of ne'er-do-wells and/or the return of their stolen property. That's not to say bounty hunters like Tex didn't exist - in fact, in 1872, the Supreme Court ruled that bounty hunters were a part of the U.S. law enforcement system in Taylor v. Taintor. Assassin-for-hire, on the other hand, has never been a legal profession, and Tex would be hanged if she were caught and convicted. 

-Tex mentions that the O'Healy brothers hired an Apache tracker to help hunt her down. IRL, Apache scouts scouts underwent years of training that made them masters of wilderness survival. Traditionally, the Lipan, Chiricahua, and Mescaleros had scout societies; their original purpose was to protect their clanspeople from enemies and to locate game and new campsites. During the Indian Wars (1860s onward), the United States Government hired what they called "Apache Scouts" (which were actually disparate groups, but were lumped together by outsiders). They acted as the eyes and ears of the U.S. military and often doubled as cultural translators. Many received commendations for bravery, despite the racism of the era.

 

Next part >

 

~*Mara*~ = ^.^ =

[Thore]

Well written as always Mara. I chuckled quite a bit at their drunken antics towards the end and I can only imagine how much of a ruckus those two will make in the future once Tex has gotten past the whole trying to kill him thing.

[SweeneyxxTodd]

Loooove it!

 

I really like the image of kid Cindy without Jimmy around to force her to be humble. Swaggering around the town showing everyone who's boss.

[TheKingInTheNorth]

Great chapter. Tex's backstory was really cool, and the drunken banter was adorable and hilarious! I liked the descriptions of how she killed each of the seven brothers. That poor kid at the end... I look forward to seeing Tex staying at Libby's, and more interactions between the two of them.

[underwater]

Tex saw herself in hindsight, standing there outside the prison cell, all blonde and fair-skinned and rosy-cheeked. How deceptively innocent she must have looked in her peach gingham dress, moments before discussing murder with a sun-leathered con.

 

i really like this imagery

 

“Bang,” she said. “Oldest brother, dead. Crushed after I shot his horse out from under him.”

She let her arm fall – then, without warning, swung it through the air, backhanding an imaginary foe. The lawman jumped, even though he was in no danger of being hit.

“Second brother, dead,” she continued. “Bashed over the head with a kerosene lamp. Third brother –” she stabbed at the table with her fist “– stick through the eye. That one was messy.”

“And the others?” Curiosity and revulsion mingled in his voice.

Tex raised her gun hand again and fired three more times. “Four, five, six. All in a row, quick and clean. By then I knew what I was doing. I set up an ambush, and they walked right into it.”

She blew fake smoke away from her fingertip, then let her arm drop once and for all.

 

The way this was laid out was just fantastic. Great storytelling

 

Corinne

[Pigquet3]

I decided to read this a second time even though I beta read, just in case there were any small (or big) changes.

 

And because its really good, of course.

 

I love how their childhood personalities are still pretty intact no matter what alternate universe or timeline they're in. The bit about how she was always the best at school and sports and super competitive about it. The "It’s too bad we didn’t grow up in the same town" was a nice touch.
 

I think the evolution of Tex gradually telling her story, feeling more comfortable telling her story, almost enjoying how much she's sharing with him and not wanting to stop, was written really well. That and her eventually drinking for her own need in order to keep going, changing from sad drunk to giddy drunk. Their interactions by the end are so endearing, probably more so than as kids in the show. After revealing so much dark stuff to each other, both just thinking "Screw it! Let's drink and have fun 'til we can't any more."

 

It was very believable how Tex fell into her line of work over time. The part about her killing the youngest, 12-year-old brother was especially heart-breaking. You really enjoy going in depth about how a character can end up in a life of crime while still making them sympathetic. And you succeed.

 

The only thing I'm disappointed about now is that I don't have the next chapter to look forward to any time soon they way I looked forward to this one the past week. I want MORE! (I mean, ya know, when you're up to it. )

 

 

 

 

 

  Pigquet