Jedediah couldn’t bring himself to admit (aloud) any romantic feelings for his pretty looking second in command. It was true she was likely the only woman he knew who wasn’t a stay-at-home girl, and was excellent with her guns. Annie’s smirk told Jedediah she was likely seeing through his little act, which he knew she’d see through. 

The reason he had an act was so that his men bought into it. Leaders had their secrets, and had their own little gig to upkeep. Jedediah the cow-boy was no exception toe this rule. He followed his friend to the spot where she had in mind for the little friendly competition shoot off. Upon hearing Annie’s advice, Jedediah grinned like the veteran gunman he was, 
“Ain’t that the truth.” He thought about his own guns. It was so weird, he’d known them to work when he’d first ‘woken up’. It had been so annoying to discover everyone pretty much had duds. How the heck Annie had functional guns was beyond him. It must have been the cause of being shifted around to so many places before this museum. 

Otherwise Jedediah would’ve gladly shown off his two beauts’ of pistols. Maybe he could somehow look into getting a deal on some customized little weapons. How someone his size would achieve this was beyond him. That was further up the road anyways. 

“Fine shootin’ ya got there Annie. Now, if ya don’t mind-“ Jedediah straightened his arm, half shutting his left eye as he assumed his classic aiming position. One shot echoed down the wild west stand, as another can was whipped out of view. Jedediah grinned. After all these years, without guns, he still had it in him. He’d made sure to keep his face not doubtful in the least, although it was likely his aim was being brought into question in the first place. It didn’t matter now though, he’d just answered it with a ‘bang’. 

--


Markus sucked in his breath upon approaching Octavious’s tent. He was going to his superior, the most powerful man in (display)Rome. Markus couldn’t help but feel a small chill zipping down his back like one of his arrows, a little thrill humming in his chest as well. Octavious wasn’t someone to be trifled with, but respected. 

The roman dusted off his garments, giving himself a last second check up on the condition of his armor before marching into Octavious’s tent. He gave the messanger a nod, likely the man knew the feel of looking his most important superior dead in the eye. The second in which Markus ducked into Octavious’s tent passed like a year, but at last, Markus had come to hear the bidding of his leader. 

The Athenian kept his back straight, sending a silent prayer to Athena for this to be nothing too negative. 
	“You called for me my liege?” Markus asked respectfully, directing his voice at his superior, giving a roman solute as an act of good will.