The Cowboy rode through time and was spat out three miles away from the monastery where St. Benedict was. His mission was to infiltrate the monastery and change history. To kill St. Benedict. He hopped off his cougar and took his gear off it. He walked up to a tree and buried it in the grass. He was dressed in monk like clothing, a brown plain robe, moccasins, and a cap. Just what he needed to fit in.
He made his way towards the monastery on foot, to avoid calling attention to himself. It took him twenty minutes to reach the monastery. He knocked on the wooden gates. They cracked open slightly, and a man poked his head out. "Yes?" he said. "I wish to kill St. Benedict." The Cowboy said. The man smiled and said "Welcome"
It had been a four days since The Cowboy had been accepted into the monastery. He planned to stay no longer. Tonight was the night for St. Benedict to die. After dinner The Cowboy the cowboy went to his bunk and prayed, as was customary for monks, and pretended to go to sleep. He waited patiently for five hours until he was sure everyone was asleep, then snuck into the St.'s chambers.
The chambers were elaborately decorated and furnished, with a blazing fireplace, carpets and paintings. The cowboy grunted. So much for the simple life of a monk. Getting back to business, the cowboy whipped out a thin but sharp filleting knife he had stolen from the kitchen. He tiptoed up to the side of the bed and pulled down the covers. Benedict lay silent, breathing softly. The Cowboy clamped a firm hand over his mouth, and slit his throat. Benedict's eyes went wide and he gurgled. The Cowboy smiled and walked away.
The Cowboy made his way to his ally, Gerth, and woke him. "Tis' done. You need to worry no more. I must leave now. Good luck in life my good friend." "Goodbye, nameless savior." The Cowboy left with a smile on his face. He had committed his first righteous homicide. He found his cougar and rode through time. The lights flashed, and he was spat out back in his office. This time he didn't puke. He was finally getting the hang of this.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Monday, November 7, 2011
M1 Observe
The History Cowboy rode his cougar through time for the first time. Lights flashed and there was a whooshing sound, like water filling a small room. He rode to medieval Europe, and the second he got off his steed he saw something terrible. A pile of bodies lay on the side of the road. They were in a late stage of decay, with open sores covering their bodies. The Cowboy merely grimaced and looked at his boots, swallowing hard. The phrase 'black death' came to mind, but he brushed it off.
Walking up to the pile, he knelt down and examined the the bodies. There were open sores, cuts and rashes all over them. There was a thin layer of bile surrounding the pile.
The smell was awful. The cowboy covered his face with a spare bandanna. It smelled fittingly like death. Like rotten meat. The cowboy threw up, unable to hold it back any longer. His cougar ran over and growled at the pile. The cowboy stumbled back a few yards.
Looking around, he saw three abandoned cottages. They were very old, crumbling from dry mud. Walking up to one, he took out his pistol and shot it in the west wall. It fell to the ground with a faint puff.
The cowboy pulled out a cigarillo and lit it. The smoke made him feel better. Looking back towards his cougar, he nodded. Throwing the cigarette to the ground, he hopped onto it's back and charged forward. Lights began to flash and he was spat out into his headquarters at the TTI building.
Walking up to the pile, he knelt down and examined the the bodies. There were open sores, cuts and rashes all over them. There was a thin layer of bile surrounding the pile.
The smell was awful. The cowboy covered his face with a spare bandanna. It smelled fittingly like death. Like rotten meat. The cowboy threw up, unable to hold it back any longer. His cougar ran over and growled at the pile. The cowboy stumbled back a few yards.
Looking around, he saw three abandoned cottages. They were very old, crumbling from dry mud. Walking up to one, he took out his pistol and shot it in the west wall. It fell to the ground with a faint puff.
The cowboy pulled out a cigarillo and lit it. The smoke made him feel better. Looking back towards his cougar, he nodded. Throwing the cigarette to the ground, he hopped onto it's back and charged forward. Lights began to flash and he was spat out into his headquarters at the TTI building.
M2 The Black Death
The History Cowboy rode through time and got of his cougar. Looking around, he saw nothing unusual. No bodies, no threats. The Cowboy walked towards the treeline in front of him. It was about thirty yards away. His cougar lay down in the grass.
The Cowboy was fifteen feet away when a man came running out of the forest. He was breathing heavily and had a gash across his chest. The man slowed down, dropped to the ground, and died. The cowboy drew both his pistols and crouched down. The bushes rustled and five huge men came charging out. They wielded evil looking weapons, crude and bent. The Cowboy fired six shots, three from each revolver, and killed them all in one easy, familiar motion. The cougar was now by his side.
The Cowboy walked up to the man who was running. He had black and blue splotches all over his body. Open sores covered his face. The Cowboy leaped back and covered his face. The Black Death was in the air. He called his cougar and jumped onto it. They road off into the east.
The cowboy had reached a town and gotten a room in the tavern. He slept and ate and cleaned his pistols. He also cleaned his rifle, a Winchester Repeater, and loaded it. But on his third night there, he noticed a blue mark on his arm. Looking more closely, it resembled the ones he had seen on the man before. He slowly took off his shirt, and to his horror, his body was covered with similar marks. He yelped and shoved all of his belongings into his bag, ran out to the stables for his cougar and was off in five minutes.
He rode as fast as the cougar could carry him. Lights started to flash. A tunnel opened up fifty feet away. The cowboy road through it and was spat out Amsterdam Blvd. The hospital was one mile away. He urged his cougar forward, kicking it in the ribs (a thing he rarely does). He reached the hospital in three minutes. He ran to the front desk, showed the receptionist his TTI i.d card, and was put into intensive care. He was saved within the hour. His cougar was also treated for a cracked rib recieved during the run.
The Cowboy was fifteen feet away when a man came running out of the forest. He was breathing heavily and had a gash across his chest. The man slowed down, dropped to the ground, and died. The cowboy drew both his pistols and crouched down. The bushes rustled and five huge men came charging out. They wielded evil looking weapons, crude and bent. The Cowboy fired six shots, three from each revolver, and killed them all in one easy, familiar motion. The cougar was now by his side.
The Cowboy walked up to the man who was running. He had black and blue splotches all over his body. Open sores covered his face. The Cowboy leaped back and covered his face. The Black Death was in the air. He called his cougar and jumped onto it. They road off into the east.
The cowboy had reached a town and gotten a room in the tavern. He slept and ate and cleaned his pistols. He also cleaned his rifle, a Winchester Repeater, and loaded it. But on his third night there, he noticed a blue mark on his arm. Looking more closely, it resembled the ones he had seen on the man before. He slowly took off his shirt, and to his horror, his body was covered with similar marks. He yelped and shoved all of his belongings into his bag, ran out to the stables for his cougar and was off in five minutes.
He rode as fast as the cougar could carry him. Lights started to flash. A tunnel opened up fifty feet away. The cowboy road through it and was spat out Amsterdam Blvd. The hospital was one mile away. He urged his cougar forward, kicking it in the ribs (a thing he rarely does). He reached the hospital in three minutes. He ran to the front desk, showed the receptionist his TTI i.d card, and was put into intensive care. He was saved within the hour. His cougar was also treated for a cracked rib recieved during the run.
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