S𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 O𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖺 T𝗁𝖾 W𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗌

The Cowboy ripped straight out of time, the Immortal Wayward Wanderer Crook McCaba! An OC for #MVRP Brought forth from the Twisted Mind of a #Caulrophile .

Well she's a mighty nice boss. Promised to help me find the fates who cursed me, in exchange fer my services as a bartender. Pays good. Place is nice. Though it aint exactly the easiest to get to. Gotta be given access, what with it being between worlds n'all.

Well, Jackal, ah can't go guarantee'n erryone one else is like me. But ah can guarantee ah'll always be 'round when ya wanna find me." [Crook tipped his hat back with a toothy grin, bandaged eye hidden behind the angle of the hat.] S'a right guarantee.

My ass did not accidentally say his name was Noah. Damn autocorrect.

Puts his hat atop @blossomsummit head.

"Seems to be the case. A right shame. But, a journey is a journey. S'pose means ah was meant to run into ya at some point."

"Ultimate this. Ultimate that. Where's th'ultimate employee ah need staff."

Name's Crook. Noah do tend to. . . (Proceeds to vanish in a cloud of brown dust, despite there being none present. Only to reappear two feet away out of a different cloud of unexplainable brown dust.) . . . Come n'go. N'what do ah got the pleasure of callin' the handsome devil?

Here's hopin' it ain't a southern wind.

Carving a piece of soap with a hunting knife. Slowly but surely molding it into... something.

"Fran eh? Simple 'nuff." The hat was lifted off his head, placed against his chest and a short bow was given. "Names Crook. Crook McCaba."

Pats her head.

True.

"Don't go thinkin' ah'm just a softie cuz ah don't shoot first. Its called havin' a value fer life."