Sep. 18th, 2008

[identity profile] shake-bad-guys.livejournal.com
Ray had a problem. Mickey'd told him he was edgy so he was supposed to go to Frontierland, which was fine, okay, and when he checked it out on one of the maps he found it was also where the Shooting Gallery was. He had an appointment to go yell at a time-travelling English chick about the way she defined "safe" in terms of people having guns.

Trouble was, he also had a whole damn dogsled loaded with gear to look after, and only one free hand to carry with. The other one he needed for his own gun. After swearing vociferously, Ray finally decided to load up a pack with the really essential stuff (his favorite leather jacket, all the weapons, Fraser's hat and uniform) and leave the other crap behind for now. If someone wanted to steal and eat his pemmican supply, let them. It would serve them right.

He stomped his way off to the Gallery, where he found a note.

He hadn't been here more than a few hours, and already women were messing with his head.

((He's got a destination in mind, but you're welcome to stop him on the way there or back. Posted now so as to avoid Ray having to do his yelling with intermittent "yarr!"s. Not that that would stop him.))

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December 2016

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