Whiskey Slim and Coyote
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Name Mica Wahkan Ohanzee
AKA Whiskey Slim
Nationality Sioux
Metatype Troll
Archetype Shaman
Birthdate March 8, 2045
rating: 0+x

"Why ju yellin at Smoke, Miss An ja wee. Me already clean up all da blood in ju back seat, an after me take out seat to get blood udder neath me is only missin' two bolts…An me is purty sure dat Coyote ran off wit' does…Coyote say we trade bolts for hotcakes and bacons."

Appearance

Typically Whiskey Slim looks like a tall Native American, very pleasant to look at for a troll with well proportioned features. He has a thin frame for a troll. He keeps very good care of himself and has well manicured hair and nails. His dermal deposits are smoothed down and his horns are usually filed and polished. Noone who knows him has ever seen him with any facial hair his Sioux blood may run strong enough that it doesn't grow.

Distinguishing Features

Whiskey Slim has a tendency to dress to fit most occasions his only real affectation is that he prefers boots and will often have some sort of wide brimmed hat. Whiskey is fanatical about his hair which is always well taken care of and many times has feathers and/or beads braided into it unless the situation warrants other wise. He also has numerous scars on his chest and back some look self inflicted from being a Sun dancer, one looks like a trio of close range shot gun blasts and his back has numerous scars from some sort of heavy ordinance if asked he will tell you it was a close call with a howitzer.

Mannerisms and Habits

Whiskey Slim has a very close relationship with his totem; he has been known to talk to Coyote all the time. Maybe he does talk directly to Coyote or maybe he just talks to himself after taking one too many shots to the head. He also has a very hard time turning down a drink all though rarely really drunk because of how much money it costs to get a troll smashed. Whiskey Slim and Coyote spend a lot of their down time frequenting various bar in the Denver area so don't be surprised if you run into him wandering the streets

Associations

Coyote, Alice, Smoke, Simone, Cannonball, and anyone else who is fun to hang out with or will buy him drinks…

Capabilities

Whiskey can draw pretty good, does tattoos for a living (Come by Coyote Station and talk for a second if you are looking for some ink), drinks like a champ, decent story teller and is working on learning how to dance. He speaks Sioux and is working on this English thing. He is the best friend a Coyote could have, and you can usually con him it to being a pretty good distraction when he is not following Alice around. He talks to alot of spirits some of them may even be nice to him. Oh and he can give one hell of a haircut, does great makeovers and can accessorize very well.

Background

Grey skies threaten snow as the wind bites through clothes all the way to the bone. A tall thin (well tall and thin for a troll) form separates its self from a door way and moves haltingly down the street. Somewhere a coyote howls, and for a moment the figure stops. It stops to listen like it is trying to pick out something between the coyote howls and the howling wind, then continues stumbling forward. Closer it gets till a swirl of snow and trash obscures sight for a second then it is there looming on the outskirts of a burned out building. "Hey, Mister! You the one who is here for Weasel?" says the shivering street kid watching the enormous figure standing at the edge of the building. Large gnarled hands rub themselves together trying to get some warmth back into them. He pushes the brim of his cowboy hat back to look at the small child thru slit eyes. Pulling a cigar out from under the Indian blanket that he is wearing over his coat in some attempt to stay warm, "Mmmm" he mumbles as he lights a match holding it for a second till the sulfur smell is gone then lights his cigar. "This way Mister!" the child runs off towards the interior of the building. The troll stumbles after the child ducking thru doorways.

"Whiskey Slim is that you?" says a woman bundled in blankets holding a young girl near the fire that is made in the remainder of a steel drum,"Oh thank the spirits it is you!" "Mmmm" mumbles the troll in the doorway. He moves swaying back and forth towards the woman then slops himself onto the floor near her feet. "Mica come to see…what seems… to be the matter…with da Wihakayda" The woman moves the blanket off the child's leg showing a bone poking thru her shin, the child whimpers slightly. "Mmmm, you got…what you were asked…to get" says Whiskey Slim as he sways back and forth. He takes a very long pull on his cigar and blows smoke onto the girl's leg. For a moment the woman thinks his eyes reflect funny in the fire light like an animal's not like a humans, but then again he is a troll she has not been around many of them and never this close. "Yes, Yes I got what you asked for" she says and motions for the boy, who rummages under a blanket and pulls out two fifths of Whiskey and hands them to Whiskey Slim. "Mmmm, good" he takes one and places it in a satchel bag that he is wearing and opens the other. He sniffs the bottle and nods at the woman, "You hold…her now." He pours some of the dark liquor over the child's leg, and sets the bottle to the side. There is a sickening crunching sound as he yanks on her leg and sets the bone back into place. The girl moans loudly and he sees her grimace and her jaw clench. Whiskey Slim places both of his large hands on the girls leg and hold them there for a minute. This time the woman swears that his facial features change slightly and his nose elongates and hints of fur appear, but then it is gone. When he pulls back his hands the bone is no longer sticking out of the girls shin and the wound was closed. There is only a little dried blood on her leg and a very tired girl to even tell that anything was wrong. "Now… we wait to see" Whiskey Slim moves to the edge of the room puts his back to the wall and sits back down.

As the family huddles around the fire for warmth Whiskey Slim takes a pull off of the bottle for his own warmth. He stares off into the darkness and he hears brother coyote calling to him on this moonless night somewhere out in the city. It is almost like he is lost and his brother is searching for him, and maybe in a sense he was lost. It was strange for Mica being close to a family again watching as they took care of each other. Mother warming some cans of soup by the fire while the little boy helped pull more blankets together for his sister. The girl was worn out by the whole ordeal of having a compound fracture to the leg. He took another pull on the bottle. The family ate dinner of soup, and stuffer shack out of date products. The young girl started moving enough to sit up and eat dinner. She giggles at her brother who is showing off by balancing an empty bottle on his forehead. Coyote howls again but it is mixed with the howling wind and only he seems to be able to hear the song. He takes another pull; maybe just maybe he could find an answer. He takes another pull off the bottle. Watching the fire light flicker, listening to coyote, he drifts off into a drunken sleep wondering if he will ever be warm again.

Dreaming a dream of warmth and the dreaming takes over the dreamer waking into the world of the past and seeing the sun….

Mica sits alone again, sitting on a rock in the sun. Nose and elbows bloody from being beaten on by a group of older boys and thrown on the ground. Fourteen and an outcast with-in the tribe he is the only one to go thru the changing, and a Troll at that, he couldn't even slouch to hide. Not standing at over a meter taller than anyone else. There were not only the beating by the older boys and the name calling by everyone Troll, Trog, and the worst Ve'ho'e (Outsider, white-man). Not for the first time Mica thought of running away but where to. There would not be anywhere that accepted him. Mica wiped his tears away and promised himself that he would be strong he would make his father proud of him he would be a warrior one day. Mica hears a rattle of rock to his side and looks quickly, expecting it to be more boys who want to beat on him for being different. Readying to run or fight, he sees instead a coyote staring at him from the rock next to him. Mica thinks to himself strange that a coyote should come this close to him. Mica jumps out of his skin when he hears a voice behind him. "What you doing sitting on my sitting rock boy" says an old Indian man behind Mica. Mica turns and looks at the old man. "You look like you have had better days there boy." "Well, let us have a look at you" the old man says, "My name is Shaw." Mica responds "I am Mica." "Well Mica," Shaw says "It looks like you will live." "Hmmm strange Mai seems to like you" Mica turns and comes nose to nose with the coyote. She licks his face and then lays her head on his knee. A warm feeling of acceptance floods thru Micas body and he knows coyote has accepted him. He will live to be tough, smart, and willful, he will be a survivor and coyote will walk with him always. Shaw cocks his head like he is listening to someone speak and then says, "Well I suppose you should come here after school and I will help you learn to gather the things you will need for magic, and how to talk to spirits." Mica nods an affirmative at Shaw. "Do I need to bring anything with me" Mica says. Shaw raises an eyebrow "Some of your mothers cooking would be excellent payment" While Shaw is looking at Mica he notes that it is strange but Mia has curled up inside of Micas shadow and laid down. "Hmmm" says Shaw I think from now on we will call you Mica Wahkan Ohanzee (Coyotes Sacred Shadow)." "Now off with you, dinner will be waiting for you and your mother will be worried" Mica took off for home.

On his way home he sees three boys dancing around a tree. A girl from his class is up in the tree. The boys are yelling at her "Come down out of the tree Katie Bluefox, give us kisses like your mother does for the men of the village." Katie is crying and yells back at them "Let me down, let me go home." But the boys continued to dance around the tree and taunt her. Mica hides himself behind a rock and calls out in a man's voice "Son it is time to come home for dinner." The first boy looks at his friends and says "keep her in the tree I will be right back after dinner" and takes off for home. Mica changes his voice to that of a woman and yells "Son it is time to come home for dinner." The second boy looks at his friend and says "keep her in the tree I will be right back after dinner" and takes off for home. Mica walks out from behind the rock and yells at the third boy "Hey your grandmother is looking for you, and says to come home for dinner" The third boy looks at Mica and says "keep her in the tree, or I will pound your ugly face in, and keep her there till I get back from dinner." and takes off for home. As soon as the boy is gone Mica calls up to Bluefox "Come on down I will walk you home" Once Mica and Bluefox get to her home she hugs him and gives him the kiss that the other boys were trying to steal from her and runs inside. The warmth of the summer night swirls into darkness.

The dreamer dreams a dream and the dreaming takes over and becomes a memory… a nightmare.

Flares pop into existence in the night sky lighting the bottom of overhanging clouds. Rain falls steadily and lightning courses across the bottom of the clouds. Static crackles over the radio. *target incoming*on radar sir*moving fast*Gunfire erupts and the sound of a heavy machine gun *Oh shit, Yellowtail is down*Oh, shit there is blood everywhere* THERE HE IS* fragging elf get him *Calm down, remember your training* God he is quick* Elemental Elemental * static*Oh Jesus Yellowtail is down, Spotted Elk is down, White Rabbit is down, Smoking Bear is down, Oh FRAG *Pistol report*BANG*BANG*BANG*static*static*There is an explosion to the east. *static*sit rep*static*Report Black Bear*static*There is another explosion to the east. Rain beats down from the sky, the clouds glow blood red.*team report*Where the frag is everyone*Red team, no contact,*Black team, no contact*Blue team, no contact* Sir, I think we are FUBAR*Machine gun fire erupts into the cab of the hummer*Explosion rocks the left side of the hummer * COVER * Enemy on three * static *BLUEFOX WHERE THE FRAG ARE THEY*static* The lightning flashes and Mica sees nothing but the bodies of his team laying on the ground fire flickers from burning pieces of vehicle parts he hears moans of the dying over the pounding rain. The lightning flashes again and he sees an elf standing in the wreckage holding a katana that glows strangely. Mica pulls himself up out of the mud draws his pistol and his knife. Mica calls to Coyote to attack this elf that would lay waste to his team the spirits answer his call and begin assaulting the elf who banishes Micas spirits with a wave of his hand. Mica charges across the rough ground firing his pistol at the elf whom simply turns to face him with a cold blank soulless stare. One round hits the elf in the shoulder but he does not even flinch. Mica closes on the elf. Melee ensues. It is quickly apparent to Mica that the elf is just playing with him. Small nicks and cuts quickly appear all over Micas body. Bleeding from a dozen small wounds the elf finally runs his katana through Micas shoulder. Mica pulls his pistol around and shoves it in the elf's face who for the first time looks surprised. Mica through the pain in his shoulder pulls the trigger and …Click…empty. Mica falls to the ground on his knees. The elf laughs softly "well proud warrior have you no more in you? I thought Sioux never surrendered?" Mica plays his last card *FIRE ON MY QUARDANANTS*I REPEAT FIRE ON MY QUARDANANTS*EXPLOSIONS ROCK THE WORLD* Coyote licks Micas face. He stares up into Hell. Rain falls, lightning and flares cover the sky sparks from artillery leaving tracers on his eyes. Blood mixes with rain and mud. And the last thing Mica hears before the darkness swallows him is ***come in Coyote this is Bluefox reinforcements in route, med evac is coming just hold on…

Mica…Wahkan…Ohanzee…Coyotes…Sacred…Shadow…awakes.

Hell is not hot. It is cold, it freezes you to the bone and no matter what you do you can't get warm again. No matter how much you drink, no matter what you do. It is just so cold and all you can hear are the screams of the men you were suppose to watch after and protect, dying around you. You can't do a fragging thing about it not till you make him pay. You follow the spirits to Denver. Watching waiting, this is the way that the elf went. Six months behind the elf, the trail is old and hard to follow. Somewhere in this hellhole is where you will find the elf that killed your whole platoon, your brothers.
One of Micas eyes opens, the fire has gone out. The family is asleep. He rises from his spot by the wall. Mica checks the girl's leg one last time. She will fine and probably running again soon enough. Mica stares down at his new tribe, the poor and cast aside of the Denver sprawl. Mica wonders not for the last time, will I ever be warm again. He takes his first morning pull off the remnants of last night's whiskey and looks towards the door.

Coyote stands waiting for him and he follows , out into the pre-dawn light. Coyote…is…a…Survivor.

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