[center][img]https://i.giphy.com/media/EK64aUD6RLqfu/giphy.gif[/img]

[hr]
Interacting with [@spooner][@Kitty][@TootsiePop]

As the shot of good old fashioned whiskey burned his throat like a round of bad toast, Dusty felt someone sit next to him, yet it wasn’t just any someone. He knew this presence, even in his semi permanent drunken haze he knew what was going on around him. This was a talent he had mastered during his hard partying days as a Gatling superstar. Dusty took off his ten gallon and placed it on the bar, causing his chestnut coloured bangs to fall and frame his devilishly handsome face. He exalted through his nose before sliding the second beer he had ordered over to Elias. [color=AF986D]”Hey hoss, yeah it’s been a while”[/color]

Elias Hellqvist; Dustin’s high school therapist and the closest thing he had during those days to a best friend. To the untrained eye, Dusty was of course a jock. He was the star running back of the football team, he was unfathomably good looking, he could sing better than Bieber and he just had that IT factor. What most didn’t realise was that Dusty Rockhold was a lonely son of a bitch (Mrs Rockhold was actually a saint but I digress). In their many many talks over the years, Elias had made no secret of the fact that Dusty was the son that his father had always wanted and in hindsight it made the cowboy feel awful. Eli was a good person who didn’t deserve to be made to feel second best. Dusty raised his glass to his old friend before downing the amber ale in three seconds flat. [color=AF986D]”Another”[/color]

As Dolores, whose apparent immortality was one of Gatlings greatest ghost stories, poured the former RB1 his next drink, a familiar voice pierced its way through the hustle and bustle of the wake. Glancing to his right side, Dusty saw the all too familiar porcelain features of one Hana Cheong. It had been a little while since he’d seen her in person. She had definitely blossomed since high school, most everybody does. The last time he saw her was probably at her wedding. He had decided to surprise her with the gift of learning Korean so he could sing her and her new husband a song. It went off like a house on fire that night. In the split second he had seen her, deep in her eye still sat the look of a stranger in a strange land that had no idea what she was doing. [color=AF986D]”Hey little sis”[/color], he said placing a comforting hand on her demure shoulder.

Mere seconds passed before even more of there once merry group of misfits landed in the Tavern. Finally succumbing to social norms, Dusty turned on the ancient, rusty stool to face the gathering of what the beautiful dead considered her best friends. What a mess they were. None of them spoke or kept in touch, if they did it was barely more than a general catch up, any meaningful conversations ended on that first Stampede weekend the year after graduation when only Roxanne turned up and the rest of them gave a smorgasbord of excuses. Bless her she always continues to try but high school friends are high school friends, when the big bad world comes calling, it was every man and woman for themselves.

Cyrus and Diana, a couple no one could have foreseen. Cy had always been a great friend, a good guy so when he and Diana started hooking up he made a point to let Dusty know. At the time he was in Iraq, so the idea brushed off of his broad shoulders with little problem. It wasn’t until after he got home and the weight of his reality began to set in that the thought of Diana, a girl he loved so intently falling for someone else and that someone else being a close friend, that stung, like a punch in the gut. It also didn’t help when he watched Diana’s Dreamhomes on repeat for nights on end. She still looked amazing and her scent was exactly the same. Her waves of blonde hair framing her face like a portrait. He tightened his already firm grip on his glass just a little bit more. [color=AF986D]”Ain’t you two looking nice? Welcome back”[/color]

[hr]

[img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/f6406f5d769e58721a96f1362bd417c9/tumblr_pqfunxXNKn1s9rgfpo1_250.gif[/img]

From the shit stained back room that Dolores had decided to clean for the first time in ten years, Jack emerged into the crowded Tavern. Damn, his ex wife sure was popular. They had been separated for about a year, divorced only a month when he found her body. Half of the town didn’t even know that so to some he was a widowed father and damned he would be if he didn’t play up to that. The image of her sitting there, like a Madam Tussaud waxwork was seared into his memory. Every time he closed his eyes she was there, staring at him with that literally dead stare. He wasn’t staying; a move some would consider to be dickish but Jackie Palminteri had an epiphany a long time ago; someone was always going to be the dick, it didn’t matter if it was him or not, he was always going to be about number one.

Jack looked up at the large picture of Roxanne that they had placed over the back wall and sighed. What a waste. With those teasing hazel eyes, that shock of red hair and a jawline that could shave ice she was beauty personified; a man was a liar if he didn’t say he fell in love with her just a little bit when he saw her. He glanced over at a group that had amassed at the bar whilst he was in the other room; it was a whose who of Roxy’s friends from high school, no doubt they would play the dutiful friend roles now but where were they the past ten years whilst she struggled? Things may have gone sour but at least Jackie was always there. He scowled lightly for a second before switching back to his usual lackadaisical shit eating grin. He had to go, it was game day after all and not even death could stop football. Leaving the Tavern, Jack caught the glimpse of Helene Perfect; yeah maybe not then but now? Yeah now she wasn’t too far from Perfect. He gave her wink before brushing past to climb into his car.

[hr]

As Jackie left, the high pitched wine of a broken old tannoy system stabbed through the bustling noise of the bar. The picture of Roxy shot upwards to reveal a screen with another image of the grateful dead, only this one was moving.

[img]http://66.media.tumblr.com/1577e1cac1ddde413293b7fde6f86352/tumblr_mvjt65l9y71qd7fc3o5_250.gif[/img]

[color=red]”Hey y’all! Don’t adjust your tv screens, it is I, Foxy Roxy Williams coming at you live from, well I guess the afterlife! If this video is being played for you then I’m dead, very dead. Don’t cry for me Argentina, I had a good life, a short one but a good gone. If all has gone to plan, this is the first of a fair amount of videos of the recently deceased me. Their purpose is simple; you’re about to hear the story of my good life and the days I recall being wonderful but you know me, I can’t make it that easy for you, got to make it a little bit dramatic. So scattered around Gatling are some mementos and memories of what came before, each clue will lead you to my next vid and my next memory. Fun right? I totally stole this idea from a book. Anyway, Rhea, babe, if your watching this, mommy loves you and she always will. To the island of misfit toys, this is as much your story as it is mine. We made a promise and maybe my being gone will finally make you fulfil it. I’m not perfect, I never was but you know who was? You Nellie and this first clue is for you. I left my journal for you, it’s yours to carry on the story but if I were you, where would I hide it? Start where we finished. I love you all, see you in the next one”[/color][/center]