#western! Ezra | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mx-lamour · 3 months

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"CoS is actually a Western."

Hang on. I have something for this. (I was going to reblog this, but things got out of hand fast, so here's an entirely separate post instead. Be warned... it's long.)

I usually like to share just some of the most dramatic/cinematic moments from our game, and Ezra's perspective in particular, but hoo boy. Hopefully this will give you some insight into the utter weirdness that also went on through most of our campaign.

The party was traveling south, toward the ruin of Berez.

We notice a bizarre row of thin wooden walls on either side of the road ahead, propped up from the behind by long angled beams. Only a couple of small one-room structures jut out from the back of them.

The wheels of Ezmerelda's wagon creak lightly, crunching along the dirt road as we approach the anomaly. We can see that the front of the walls are painted to look like buildings. Amongst them are a few figures. A man wipes his brow with a handkerchief. Jaunty piano music wafts through the scene.

In a sudden shattering of glass, something crashes through the window of a building labeled "saloon". Ezra approaches the object now lying in the road. It's a thin wooden cutout, painted on one side to look like a man.

We look around. All the figures in this theatrical setpiece are painted cutouts, animated by a series of ropes and pullies. Dulan spies a zombie or two through the gaps between facades, operating the mechanisms.

This is undoubtedly one of Strahd's works.

For context, we were aware of two separate personifications of Strahd von Zarovich, but were still not entirely sure why the duality existed or what to do about it.

Our first was one we dubbed "Strahd von Strahd", an unhinged caricature with a deep and thoroughly exaggerated Dracula voice, who had encouraged us on other occasions to participate in small theatrical scenes (this wild west town was an escalation of a sort we had not yet encountered).

The other, we labeled "Business Strahd", who we had begun to speculate the existence of only after meeting Ezmerelda, and had only recently confirmed/witnessed at Yesterhill.

Ezra lights one of his shoddy cigarettes.

We peer through the busted saloon window. It's set up with a few tables and chairs, some of which are occupied by more ambient cutout figures. Off to one side, a zombie sits at a harpsichord. There's a man behind the bar, wiping the inside of a glass with a rag.

"Do we want to start placing bets that's Strahd in disguise?" Ezra mutters warily.

After some hesitation, we steel ourselves—Ezra casting a protection on himself—and bust dramatically through the swinging doors.

As we enter, we're startled by a tray lowering jerkily down to us on ropes from the ceiling above. Presented on it are a stack of black cowboy hats, and a pile of metal brooches shaped like stars, the word 'deputy' etched on each of them. A sign suspended between the ropes of the apparatus reads: Choose your role.

Kreig scoops up one of the shiny metal stars. Dulan, who acts like an elder brother around Kreig, joins him, and pins a star to his vest. There's a silly moment where Krieg sees this and goes to mimick Dulan, but then we remember the barbarian isn't wearing a shirt, so he kind of just stabs it into his pec instead.

Ezra dons a black hat. The tray raises back up into the makeshift rafters.

"What can I get you?" The line is flat and stilted. The human bartender is sporting a thousand-yard stare.

Kreig asks for water, since we've been traveling a while.

"Good choice. Three sasparillas."

Ezra sniffs at the substance this the poor man hands us, which was described as essentially a brownish watered-down apple vinegar. Kreig tries to drink some of it and resists the urge to make a sour face, in an effort to be polite.

While Dulan tries to chat with the barkeep, Ezra wanders away with his cup of swill to survey the rest of the setup. There are more zombies, dressed in western outfits, suspended from the ceiling. For now, the corpses hang inert.

The saloon doors swing open again, and Rahadin stands in the doorway. He's decked out in classy outlaw attire: black leather jacket, black boots adorned with shiny silver spurs, and atop his head is a black cowboy hat. But he still wears a sword on his hip.

He catches Ezra's eye and nods to him. "I don't know how you can stand to drink in here, ol' Dynamite McCoy." The background music and other ambient sounds abruptly cease.

Ezra lifts his glass slightly. "Ale's ale," he says blandly.

"I know what you mean, but I wish they would serve a better class of folk in this establishment."

"What do you mean?" Dulan chimes in.

"I mean that you two," says outlaw Rahadin, addressing deputies Dulan and Kreig, "are scum of the earth."

Dulan plays into it, puffing up his stocky dwarven chest. "I'm the long arm of the law in this town!"

"You won't talk so high and mighty when Gravedigger Jim comes into town." We naturally assume that this is in reference to Strahd.

"Them's fightin' words," Dulan declares, trying to figure out what the end goal of this playacting is supposed to be.

"Gravedigger Jim sent me to tell you, you've got one last chance to leave this town. If you want to see another sunrise, you'd best be gone by high noon."

"The junior deputy and I ain't goin' nowhere," Dulan retorts. "Go find yourself a new town to harrass."

The human bartender interjects lamely, "Now now. I don't want any trouble in here. Take it outside or be done with it."

Rahadin fixes the deputies with a look. "You've been warned."

He's about to leave. But Kreig pipes up. "Well, wait. Why don't we put aside our quarrels and you have a drink with us?" He plops a coin down on the bar. "A round for this... gentleman."

The barkeep pours another drink. Rahadin strides up to the bar and levels Kreig with a look. "You're not going to win me over with a drink, so what's your game, junior deputy?"

"No game, just trying to enjoy my day. It's mighty hot out there, so I figured you could use something to quench your thirst," Kreig says. Rahadin reaches for the glass, but then Kreig adds, "Unless you ain't up for it," in some unfathomable challenge.

At that, Rahadin takes the drink, throws its contents on Kreig, and sets the glass back down on the bar with a decisive thunk.

"Thank you," Kreig says. "I needed that." And pours his own drink over Rahadin's head.

Rahadin steps back, pausing to let the liquid drip off of him. "Thanks," he says dryly, and picks up a chair from a nearby table.

Dulan raises a hand. "Now, the barkeep asked us to take it outside," he says loudly. "This is a civilized place."

With incredible mid-swing restraint, Rahadin merely lays the chair down on its back atop the bar. He tells Dulan, "Your junior deputy would have preferred the chair," and walks out.

"As far as I can tell, you've just invited yourself to a duel," Ezra observes from his place far on the sideline.

"Get your kind out of my town!" Dulan grumbles emphatically, gesturing at Ezra's black hat.

With a pointed look, Ezra sets his own glass down on a table, turns, and walks out after Rahadin.

Outside, wagons have been moved into the road at either end of the set. A couple new cutouts, depicting gangs of tough-looking outlaws, have come into play. And Strahd is there, standing in the middle of it all, dressed in his usual Count attire, but with the addition of a black cowboy hat.

Rahadin reaches into a barrel on the side of the road and starts pulling out hand crossbows. He offers one to Ezra.

Strahd also acknowledges him pleasantly. In his most outlandish Dracula voice, he says, "Good evening, Ezra. You have chosen an interesting part to play today. Welcome to the other side."

Ezra plays it cool. He tips his hat in reply.

Back inside the saloon, the piano music resumes. The zombies in the rafters are lowered down and become vaguely animate. They seem to follow Dulan and Kreig, but do not attack. So Dulan continues to play the game. "You were born in this town," he says, rallying the mock townsfolk. "We will defend this town. No low-down cattle rustlers are going to take it from us!" The zombies grumble and groan in raucous agreement. There are ambient cartoon sounds of bullets loading into chambers, and cylinders spinning, despite a distinct lack of weaponry. A table is flipped on its side and hefted up by zombie arms. Dulan, Kreig, and the unlikely crew huddle behind it like a massive shield.

A hawk cries in the distance.

"Come on out of there, you yellow-bellied cowards!" Strahd calls richly from outside the saloon. "Face Gravedigger Jim!"

Dulan, privately reeling at the absurdity of all this, somehow plays that classic Western sound [wa wa waaa... wheeooo-oo...] to inspire Kreig, who rages as they stomp through the doorway with a gaggle of zombies and a table in front of them.

"Howdy pilgr—Oh no, they're rushing it!" Strahd yells. "Next cue! Next cue!"

Strahd throws his cape aside, and draws out not a crossbow, but an actual, literal hand gun. Something none of our characters have ever seen before. He aims, and just obliterates the head of one of Dulan and Kreig's loaner zombies. The other zombies keep moving, treading over the now mostly-headless corpse.

Kreig advances toward Rahadin, slapping the crossbow from his hand with the flat of his blade. "We can still settle this calmly," he says.

"You should have let me keep the crossbow," Radahin replies coolly. He draws his sword. "And, by the way... this is calm." The man makes three melee attacks.

"Gravedigger Jim!" Dulan improvises, "Unlike your name, you'll be hangin' from that tree, like your father before you!"

As an aside to Rahadin, Strahd comments, "He's totally off-script, but I love the energy."

Ezra takes another puff of his dwindling cigarette, playing the cool observer, letting the bosses handle it. He keeps his eyes trained on the barrel of Strahd's gun.

"You keep my papa out of this," Strahd banters, leveling it at Dulan.

Ezra's eyes flash when he sees the spark. The revolver backfires in a gout of flame that billows back at Strahd's face, igniting his clothing.

Strahd blinks. "Son of a bitch," he remarks. "Rahadin, you warned me, but I really wanted to give it a try."

Kreig attacks Rahadin, who vanishes in a puff of smoke. A molotov cocktail hurtles at Kreig from above, smashing to the ground by his feet. Kreig dives out of the way, glancing up at the trajectory to see Rahadin standing on a makeshift balcony.

Dulan pulls a rope from his pack and ties a lasso. He makes himself invisible.

"Why don't you let me give it a whirl," Ezra offers, extending his hand to Strahd and nodding toward the gun. "Those things can be a bit finicky."

In a miracle of dice rolls, Strahd practically shrugs as he relinquishes the revolver. The fire consuming his sleeve licks Ezra's hand in the exchange. Ezra doesn't flinch. With a breath like blowing out a candle, he extinguishes the flames.

Relieved of the gun, Strahd draws his sword instead. He and Rahadin converge against Kreig, Rahadin flinging a terrifyingly dark rusty dagger at the barbarian from aloft. Together, they take him down. Rahadin remarks, "I told you he would have preferred the chair."

Dulan catches Strahd with the lasso. He pulls on the rope, calling the remaining zombies to help him. "Pull!" he yells.

Strahd topples over. He rolls on the ground a bit, palms up in mock despair. "No! You have captured me! How can this be? I, the great Gravedigger Jim, will go out the same way as my pappy."

"This is why one shouldn't get tangled up in the wrong side of the law," Dulan declares.

Ezra makes his way over to Kreig. Goes to remove the nasty-looking dagger from him, but it falls apart in his hands, disintigrating into nothingness and leaving behind an infectious-looking oozing black wound in Kreig's hide. Ezra carefully burns it away, sparing him his descent into death.

Dulan and Ezra spare a glance at each other, trying to figure out where to go from here.

Rahadin watches the conclusion of the little episode with his elbows propped on the balcony railing, chin resting on a closed fist.

"Oh no, you won," Ezra says lamely.

Dulan leans down to Strahd, still wriggling on the ground. "You have to hang me," Strahd insists.

With aid of the zombies, Dulan sets out to hoist the rope up somewhere nearby. He avoids moving the lasso from Strahd's arms, so Strahd does it for him, positioning it around his own neck like he's adjusting a bowtie.

And then he hangs. He makes a dramatic show of gurgling and going limp.

"And, cut!" he announces, slashing easily through the rope and dropping gracefully back to the ground. "Good work everybody. You really studied the material this time. A marked improvement on your last show. Great work. Get some water, stay hydrated, and... we will move onto the next scene." And with that, he simply walks away.

Strahd makes his exit between two of the building facades. Rahadin turns, too, leaving through a doorway behind him on the balcony. The zombies de-animate and crumple to the ground.

Ezra hurries after Strahd, still intent on gleaning some additional insight. Throughout this encounter, the man has been wholly committed to his act, completely devoid of caution or care, never once breaking character. There's been no trace whatsoever of the Strahd von Zarovich from his own journal, nor their encounter at Yesterhill, nor even Vasili von Holtz. He would truly have to be the most talented actor in the world, or this is a completely different entity. So, who is he really? And why is he wearing Strahd's face?

Strahd is standing with Rahadin by his black carriage, giving him notes. "I think we need to do better next time. They seemed to be a tad confused. Maybe a bit more stagecraft. But they seem to be taking hold, starting to dig into their parts. Fantastic." Rahadin opens the carriage door for him and Strahd steps inside.

Ezra approaches them as Rahadin climbs up to the coachman's place. "Good evening, Ezra," Strahd greets him again. "You made an interesting choice today. I think perhaps you need more practice, but I like this new direction you are taking your character."

Ezra takes off his black hat and sets it on the carriage seat next to Strahd. He touches Strahd's arm. "I said I was here to help," Ezra reminds him, and surreptitiously casts Remove Curse, just to see what it will do.

It does nothing. He can't feel any difference, can see no change in Strahd at all.

Strahd pats Ezra's glowing hand amiably. "Oh, but you seem so hot and clammy. Perhaps you should see a doctor." He settles into the carriage, then, closing the door.

Before they depart, Rahadin leans toward Ezra, regarding him over his shoulder. "There are always more black hats available, should you decide it suits you, Ezra." He flicks the reins, and they're off. The ominous black carriage rolls north, back up the road.

In the background, Dulan had the spirit of the wizard Emari [it's a magic item situation] trail after Ezra. When Ezra returns, Dulan regails the group with the information Emari gleaned from the interaction [Dulan is the only one who can see/hear the wizard's spirit].

When Ezra was speaking with Strahd, Emari said, Strahd's mind was a minefield of incessant cacouphanous screams and wails. And Rahadin's thoughts were shielded completely from detection.

A direct reversal of a previous encounter we'd had with both of them.

#so we concluded that rahadin (this time) was in fact strahd in disguise but what the fuck actually was possibly-rahadin-as-strahd-von-strahd #ezra's shell game theory was well and truly confirmed but we still had no real answers as to how many beans were in play and where #check my pinned post for other campaign tales #cos is actually a western #ezra sunstar #campaign notes #curse of strahd #there's basically no spoilers in this despite its length #this had effectively nothing to do with the module #my dm is insane #i was reeling #this was session 11 #wild wild west #ravenloft #strahd von zarovich #rahadin

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humanfucker · 11 months

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@backonmybullshit91 sent: there’s something very wrong with you. - Ezra ► from this meme.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," Orion says, carrying bound papers on his shoulder to set in a cart not too far away. From here he'll be bringing the new publications off to the distributor to be delivered to the folks of Four Corners in the morning.

Usually this is work that, in the wee hours of the night, nobody interrupts him in doing. But he supposes those seven protectors of the town do have habits of staying late at the saloon. He just never expected one of them to stop him directly.

Affording the man (and his colourful red coat) a glance, Orion's shoulders shrug up. "I'm as much a law-abiding citizen as you are, sir."

Then he goes to retrieve the next bundle to add to the cart.

#[ i'm thinkinggggg he gives them the name Orion Pax for his nice fake humansona #which is arguably his real name but it feels a bit more human-y than optimus prime LMAO ]#backonmybullshit91 #thread.#backonmybullshit91: ezra.#[ also he speaks totally without accent On God. LMAO ]#au: western.

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soggycardboardbox · 1 year

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One of the bounty hunters from our cowboy campaign.

#dnd #dnd npc #cleric #cowboy #western #desolation campaign #Ezra Amastacia

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sytycdinternational · 2 years

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SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE USA SEASON 17 // Top 6 & All-Stars / “The Chain" - Fleetwood Mac / Contemporary / Choreography by Mandy Korpinen & Elizabeth Petrin / Top 6 Perform

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riflerhymeswithtrifle · 1 year

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I LITERALLY DON'T KNOW BECAUSE EVERY SINGLE CONFORT CHARACTER OF MINE IS DEAD.

Here's a list of my confort characters:

Paul Bäumer (AQOTWF)

Stanislaus Katczinsky (AQOTWF)

Thorin Oakenshield (The Hobbit)

Charles Xavier (X-Men)

Sean Cassidy (X-Men First Class)

Kanan Jarrus (Star Wars Rebels)

Ezra Bridger (Star Wars Rebels)

Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars)

David Joseph Katz (The Umbrella Academy)

Like seriously, what is my obsession with dead characters?

#all quiet on the western front #paul bäumer #stanislaus katczinsky #sean cassidy #charles xavier #thorin oakenshield #kanan jarrus #ezra bridger #obi wan kenobi #dave katz #star wars #confort characters #confort character

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artemiseamoon · 2 years

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No heroes or villains

A Westworld x sort of Western-Prospect AU x my mind doing stuff

Candice ’Ruby’ Mason & Ezra ‘Gunslinger’ James & Logan ‘Maverick’ Delos | ft Charles ‘Hoodoo’ Leon

Words: 2,060

Warnings: a few, guns, a hostage, sexual innuendo, drinking at a sex club

An: Not me with new characters and scenarios always in my mind even though I have a million x 10 wips. I’ve been thinking about this pair a lot lately. They won’t leave me alone. I literally have one wip and 2 requests planned for this week - these three need to let me breathe lol. As i sort the wips to focus on this summer, and pick the last Pedro characters I’ll write before taking a break from his characters, this will likely be in that last batch.

Earlier that day

Dust kicked up in the air as the small unassuming carriage came to a full stop. Ruby reaches behind her, without looking, and rests a hand against Ezra’s chest. She hated spooking horses, humans she didn’t care so much.

They’ve been tracking this carriage for days, the impatience radiating off of Ezra made it clear he was ready to end this job, collect the pay, and pick a place to rest for a while. Without a respite or a pleasure den to bask in between jobs, Ezra’s becomes tetchy.

Ruby feels Ezra’s chest rise and fall as he takes a breath. The lone rider in the carriage exits and steps aside to take a piss.

Taking quiet measured steps, Ruby creeps up behind the man just as he closes his trousers and presses the barrel of her pistol into the center of his back.

“You stay put right there if you know what’s good for ya.” Ruby presses harded, the man stills and slowly turns his head to view her.

“W-what the hell is this?”

Ezra steps infront of the man, careful to avoid the wet spot on the ground and flashes a menacing grin, “oh, it’s elementary. You see, my partner and I intend to relieve you of your load.”

The man’s eyes jump from Ezra, to Ruby. “I intend to surrender nothing.”

Ruby shakes her head, with one quick movement she takes his pistol from his belt holster.

Ezra howls, he has his double colts trained on the man.

“You gotta watch that one, she’s quick.”

Ruby holsters his weapon and stands next to Ezra.

“Risky move,” Ruby steps away from Ezra, and circles the man like a vulture, “Comin’ out this way by your lonesome. Didn’t your mamma teach you better than that?”

“I gather it’s safe to assume otherwise, little bird,” Ezra takes a step closer to him and shoots him a warning look as the man starts to make a run for it. The man stops, feeling Rubys run against his back again, “carrying such precious cargo. You really should have some company.”

“Saftey in numbers and all that,” Ruby adds, she nudges him in the back with the barrel of her gun oncemore.

Ezra clears his throat, holsters one of his weapons and looks the man over.

“I’m gonna be straight with you. No one has to die, amigo. You can hand that cargo over to my charming yet dangerous companion and walk away with your life. Or, put up a fight and lose your life.”

The man frowns, he glances nervously at Ruby, then returns his eyes to Ezra.

“The choice is yours, Blondie.” Ruby stands next to Ezra once more, she grins at the man.

The man swallows, looks around, then back at them. He forces the words, but they finally come.

“I won’t resist.”

Ruby moves closer, looking up at the tall man, still grinning. “Attaboy. It would be a shame to destroy such a pretty face. Now, you help us transfer those sacs to our carriage. One step closer to freedom. I promise.” She lightly slaps his left cheek before stepping away. The man jerks his head back.

Ezra chuckles, amused by the whole scene.

Holding the man hostage, Ruby watches him as Ezra retrieves their carriage. Once it’s there, they keep the man at gunpoint as he does the heavy lifting. They also checked his carriage for hidden weapons, there are none.

Ruby leans against a tree, watching as the man transfers another sac, “Poor thing, this must be your first run. Sorry for the rough lesson sweetheart, but it's tough out here. Next time, be prepared.”

Ezra circles the scene, eyeing how many sacs are left to transfer, “Oh my Ruby. Sweet as pie and as deadly as a viper.” The man’s eyes meet Ezra’s. “She’s a special one - “ Ezra pauses, waits until the man puts the last two inside then continues talking, “ah, you forgot something,” Ezra signals for him to roll down the canvas securing the back. “Tie it now. We wouldn’t want any losses along our journey.”

“No. We sure wouldn't’. I’d be a waste of your hard work.”

The man finishes the task before glancing at Ruby.

“There , see, that wasn’t hard.” Ezra takes off his hat and bows to the man. “Much obliged.”

The man starts to say something but is cut off as Ezra roughly grabs him by the collar and shoves him against a nearby tree. The man pushes back until he feels a colt pressing against his gut.

Ezra is close, real close, his nose pressing against the mans as he stares daggers into his eyes, “dont make this more difficult than it has to be, friend. Sit.”

The man sit down. His eyes float to Ruby who watches over Ezra’s shoulder.

“Don’t mind him, his mood shifts.” She said with a shrug.

Ezra kneels down, grabs a fist full of the man's shirt again, “Ruby, the rope. Now.”

Any patience Ezra had left is long gone. She sighs and undoes the length of rope from her belt. She walks over to them and kneels down behind the tree.

“It’s an easy knot, by time you get out of it, we'll be long gone and you can continue on your way.” Ruby grabs hold of the man's wrist and ties them.

Ezra holsters his last colt and leads the way to the carriage. “Let’s get out of here.”

Ruby winks at the man tied to the tree, pets his horse, then joins Ezra on their carraige before taking off.

Two days later

Ezra reclines against the building, observing the small town at the peak of day. A market, people coming and going, goods stores receiving orders.

“Who is this friend of yours anyhow? What’s his name?” Ezra asked.

“You wanted a prospecting job next, so here you go,” Ruby sips some water from the canteen before handing it to him, “ he has many names.”

Ezra grins, continuing to watch her as he holds the bottle. “What’s his name?”

“Call him Hoodoo. He’s our ticket.”

Ezra nods, then takes a sip of water. “Quite the moniker.”

“This place is supposed to have generous deposits. Gems, metal. We gotta pass through Pariah, and drop something off for him in exchange for the information. Two nights til the next train passes thru.”

“You know the last time I spent two nights in Paraiah I got arrested.” Ezra smirks, reliving the memory.

Ruby smiled, “I did too.”

“Hell, it takes a lot to get arrested in Pariah,” Ezra pulls her closer and locks one arm around her shoulders, “look at us.”

Ruby scratches the scruff of his patchy beard with her nails. Ezra grabs her chin, his brown eyes fixed on hers.

“Pariah watch out.” Ezra leans forward to kiss her, Ruby stands on her tipy toes to meet his lips with hers.

“He’s ready to see you now.” A voice from behind them said.

Ruby breaks away from the kiss first and follows the guy inside the house, Ezra follows.

Once they enter, Ruby finds Hoodoo in the back of the Casino, a cigar between his lips and the rim of his hat casting a shadow over his eyes.

“Spitfire, is that you,” his deep voice reaches out before he raises his head.

“The one and only.” Ruby stands infront of the table, her hands resting on her hips.

He’s a big man, one of the biggest Ezra has seen in a while. His hat continues to conceal his eyes.

“Thought you were dead.”

“Almost.” She replied with a grin. He chuckles in response.

Hoodoo raises his head and lifts the rim of his hat, setting it at normal level. His dark brown eyes focus on Ezra, his expression is hard to read.

“I see you found yourself another one.”

Ezra quirks a brow, then looks at Ruby.

“He as crazy as the last one?”

“No,” Ruby shakes her head and affectionately pats Ezra on the shoulder.

When Hoodoo rises from the chair, he towers over both of them. He steps around the table and places his large hands on Rubys shoulders. She’s already shorter and smaller than Ezra, she appears tiny before Hoodoo.

“Look at you,” the serious man cracks a smile, like a proud father, “come on, let’s talk. Bring your boyfriend.” He wraps an arm around her, leading her to a back room.

Ezra shrugs and follows along.

…

Pariah, night one

The Golden Kingdom (brothel)

Ruby sips her drink and drapes her legs over Ezra’s as they lounge on the red velvet couch, watching everything before them. With her free hand, she massages the back of his head.

“Would you like to partake in any of the activities tonight, gem?” Ezra kisses the length of her arm closest to him.

“Not sure yet. I’m content just watching, and drinking. We can’t get too wild, we have an early meeting in the mornin’, unload that cargo.”

“I’m aware, “ Ezra nuzzles his face in the space between her neck and shoulder, whispering against her skin, “when was the last time first light stopped us from having a wild night?”

“True.” Ruby turns her head, offering him more of her neck to kiss.

Ezra slips his hand under her shirt, “I propose we take a look around, see what visual delights entice our senses and head back to the room.”

“I like that plan.” Ruby grabs his hand and slides it out of her shirt. “Come on cowboy.”

The two of them walk the massive room, red curtains drape from the walls, bowls of fruit and chalices of wine spread out on countless tables, music playing, lit candles, incense, faintly in the background the sounds of pleasure and boisterous conversation.

When Ezra takes a step away to piss, Ruby continues to explore until a familair figure catches her eye. She can identify this tall, lean, dark haired figure with ease.

Feeling someone behind him, Logan assumes it’s his partner, “I didn’t know the body could bend like that,” he titls his head and chuckles, “That’s what I need tonight, to fuck like that - “Logan glances over his shoulder and does a double take.

“Well, “ he lowers his glass as he turns to view her, “look at you.” Logan smiles fliratiously at her. “Last time I saw you, you shot me.”

“I did. I’d do it again.” Ruby’s eyes moved over him, she still hated him, but he looked delicious as usual. “Still a vile piece of shit?”

“You know it.” Logan responds proudy.

Logan steps away from the sideroom, giving her his full attention. Standing too close, he arches a brow and wets his lips.

“You look good Ruby.”

“I know.” Ruby flips him off and continues walking, heading back to where she last stood with Ezra. Logan follows.

“What’s it been? A year?”

“About.” She reponds shortly.

Logan chucks the rest of his drink, and places it on the tray of a passing server.

“What do you say to an adventure? Like old times? The person I came with..a real bore. But you,” Logan walks backwards infront of her, forcing her to look at him, “we - we know how to have fun. I like this gold paint, you would look delicious painted gold.”

Ruby rolls her eyes, “I’m not alone.”

“You know I don’t mind group action.” The diabolical grin Logan flashes sends a wave of heat through her body. Ruby resists, putting more space between them.

She takes a few steps then notices Ezra coming her way.

“Ready for that room Gem, I’ve had all the voyeriusm a man can take,” Ezra draws her into his arms, “you and me, we need to -” he stops, noticing the tall man watching them with a perverse half grin.

“Over me so quickly,” Logan rests a hand over his heart, “I have to say, it hurts, just a little.”

“I take it this is the other one Hoodoo was referrin’ to?” Ezra continues to hold her, his eyes on Logan.

“Moving fast you two, you met Hoodoo? That’s like meeting the dad,” he whispers that part, “ I’m impressed, or jealous.” Billy grins. “what's the secret? Big cock?”

Ruby turns and grabs Ezra by the arm and pulls him backward. She doesnt mind Ezra laughing at Logan’s comment, “Goodbye Logan!” She calls back as her and Ezra head toward the entrance.

…

Now that I got some of this out of me, I’m gonna try to work on my actual planned wip 😁

#Ezra prospect #logan delos #Westworld au #western au

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viva-la-whump · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 28

@febuwhump

Another alt prompt!

KILLING GAME

It was the first time Kallus had let Ezra go on a hunting trip by himself, and, well, it wasn’t exactly going as planned. He’d had some success catching smaller game – birds, rabbits, even a fox – but he’d need a larger kill if he hoped to get them enough meat for the lean months of winter. Unfortunately, the wolf that stalked towards him had the same idea.

Ezra stared at the large creature, bow and arrow trembling uselessly in his hands. There was no way he’d be able to kill this thing before it killed him, but he wasn’t just going to give up.

Steeling himself, Ezra took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, aimed, and, right as the beast lunged at him, he fired.

Ezra didn’t even look to see where, or if, his arrow struck it; he was too busy staring at the shape that came hurtling towards him, growing larger and larger until it was the only thing he could see. He raised one arm to defend himself before the animal was on top of him, pinning him to the ground and sending him crashing into sudden darkness

---

Ezra woke with a start, his mind filled with the images of fangs and claws and hungry eyes. He tried to breathe, but it was painful, and his head was pounding. That…that was a good thing, though. Right? It meant he wasn’t dead. But he was still surrounded by darkness, only it wasn’t as dark as it had been. He thought he could see stars above him and…was that firelight?

Turning his head with a groan, he saw a small campfire and a man sitting on the other side. He groaned again and closed his eyes, placing a hand on his head to feel bandages wrapped around it. He must have hit his head pretty hard. But that was the least of his worries.

“I guess this means I failed the test, right?”

“I’d say surviving is the ultimate test and so far you're managing that well enough.”

Ezra bolted straight up to his feet, ignoring his pounding head and protesting ribs. That had not been the voice he’d been expecting!

“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice more firm than he felt. He reached over to a nearby tree to steady himself as a wave of dizziness threatened to sweep him off his feet. The man stayed seated, unperturbed by Ezra’s outburst.

He looked to be about the same age as Kallus, maybe a little bit younger, and instead of blond sideburns, this man had a dark patch of beard on his chin while the long hair on his head was pulled back into a tight ponytail.

“Just someone passing by,” he answered. “I saw you lying underneath that wolf over there and figured you probably needed some help.

Ezra looked to where the man pointed and saw the wolf that had attacked him lying dead, an arrow sticking out of its mouth. His arrow. His eyes widened in shock. The man smiled.

“That was one helluva shot you made, kid,” he said, his green eyes studying Ezra’s face, his dissecting gaze making the teen feel decidedly unnerved.

“I have a good teacher.” He knew it was true, even if Kallus wasn’t the nicest person to live with, but the admission still made him rankle.

“The same teacher who leaves his student alone in the wilderness with only a bow and arrow to face down wolves as a test?”

“He didn’t know about the wolf,” Ezra shot back, not sure why he was defending the man he hated to this stranger.

The man held up his hands in surrender. “No need to get worked up. You’re in no condition for it anyway. Why don’t you sit down before you fall down, alright?”

He must look as terrible as he felt, Ezra realized. But he didn’t know who this man was or what he wanted, so he had every intention of staying on his feet in case he had to run.

The man smiled again. “You don’t need to be afraid of me,” he said, and Ezra briefly wondered if he could read minds. “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have patched you up. So please sit down before you waste my hard work.”

He guessed it made sense, Ezra had to admit, slowly sitting back down and trying not to wince as his ribs ached. He felt a tugging on his left cheek and reached up to feel two thin, parallel cuts starting to scab over. Looked like wolf had given him a parting gift.

“Alright, so why did you help me? What do you want?”

“Who says I want anything?”

“No one helps others ‘just because’,” Ezra said firmly. “Everyone wants something.”

“Did your teacher tell you that?” Ezra didn’t answer. The stranger smirked. “So tell me,” he continued. “What is it you want?”

“What?”

The stranger shrugged. “You said everyone wants something.”

Thoughts of running away and being free of Kallus, free to do whatever he wanted swam around his head. But he wasn’t about to tell this man that.

“I want you to leave me alone,” Ezra spat, feeling a tugging in his gut that very much did not want that. He didn’t know what it was, but something about this stranger pulled at him, intrigued him. Not that he would admit that, of course.

The stranger sighed, but that smile still lingered around his lips. “Tell you what – I’ll stay through the night, make sure no other wolves come and decide you’d make a tasty midnight snack, and then in the morning, I’ll leave. Do we have a deal?”

Ezra stared at the man and couldn’t help seeing the sincerity in his face. That same feeling in his gut also said he could trust him, but his brain was telling him the opposite. Or maybe that was just Kallus’ teachings.

“Fine,” Ezra agreed, trying to ignore the relief he felt that the stranger wasn’t going to disappear just yet. “But aren’t you at least going to tell me your name?”

“Ah, so there are two things you want, huh?” he chuckled. Ezra glared at him. “It’s Kanan. Kanan Jarrus.”

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cryptotheism · 1 month

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have you seen zionists calling you antisemitic for posting about kabbalah. i don't take em seriously on account of them hating you for being anti-zionist, but i do wonder what your take on their cultural appropriation claims is?

I will defer to this incredible Zine by my acquaintance Ezra Rose.

Ezra is a Jewish occultist and a dedicated antizionist. Because of this Zine, I actually tracked them down on Twitter so I could discuss antisemitism in western occultism in the DMs with them, and we've had many a wonderful conversation.

Because that's really the long and short of it. Too many folks will read some thirdhand occult commentary on kabbalah and call themselves an expert without ever speaking to an actual Jewish person about it. (I wouldn't call myself an expert on kabbalah, neither would ezra, but their zine is good and you should read it.)

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mx-lamour · 3 months

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I was going to read more of my book, but I accidentally did seven hours of work instead.

#curse of strahd #i strahd: the war against azalin #lamour dms cos #oop #this is my calling #also what happened when i wrote up ezra's western cos story #interrupting strahd content for more other strahd content

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morallyinept · 8 months

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Pedro Boys & Cocktails 🍹

More Pedro Boy fun! I've not included measurements because we all like our drinks at varying strengths, so you can tailor make them to your liking.

Drink responsibily folks! 🥴

Also, check out Drinkingpedro on IG for some amazing original drinks, inspired by Pedro & his characters. The account is super fun! Give them a follow. (This was some of my inspiration for this Pedro Boys Cocktail ramble.) Cheers! 🖤

Francisco Morales - 'The Morales Muff Diving Experience' - Crown Royal whiskey, peach schnapps, peach puree, sour mix, lemonade. Open your legs, hermosa. Standard Heating Oil cap optional.

Oberyn Martell - 'The Skull Crusher' - Freshly squeezed blood oranges from Dorne (or your local grocery store if you're unable to sail to Westeros), vodka, lime juice, cointreau, blood orange pulp to top. You know, crushed brain chunks.

Ezra - 'The Wordy Birdie' - Vodka, tequila, white rum, gin, cointreau, lemon juice, simple syrup, Midori, soda water. Served with a case of looted Aurelac gems. Tastes even better with one arm - tingly. Loquacious rambling guaranteed.

Joel Miller - 'Molotov Cocktail' - Empy bottle, handkerchief doused in flammable liquid of choice, or whatever is avaliable when the world has gone to shit. Ignite. Launch at clickers. Watch them go boom. Instant mushroom soup. Nom.

Dieter Bravo - 'The Bola Hair Hold' - Brandy, vodka, absinthe, gin, whiskey, blackberry liqueur. Shake it all up and hope for the fucking best, although you will probably die. Make sure Bola is avaliable to hold your haaaaair as you weep into the fetid toilet bowl.

Javier Peña - 'The Loredo Legspreader' - Gin, lemongrass, lemongrass syrup, fresh lime juice, red Thai chilli to garnish. Serve with a cigarette and a sour resting bitch face. Sweaty pink shirt optional.

Marcus Moreno - 'The Upstaged Father' - Cherry vodka, lemonade, blue curaçao, coconut vodka, mango rum, grenadine, simple syrup, crushed ice, orange slices to garnish. Drink alone in a corner, daydreaming about your heyday as leader of The Heroics, before your 11 year old daughter stole your limelight. Bitters optional.

Pero Tovar - 'Black Powder' - Dark rum, dry vermouth, blackberry liqueur, splash of lime juice, blackberries to garnish. Serve on dry ice for that smokey effect. Then betray your closest friend.

Max Phillips - 'The Bloodsucking Bastard' - Chambord raspberry liqueur, cranberry juice, Prosecco or sparkling wine. Don't worry, these vamps don't sparkle. Vodka. Splash of lime juice. Place on a post-it note and serve to your boss. Brace yourself for imminent fangs.

Marcus Pike - 'The Boyfriend Cardigan' - Vanilla vodka, passion fruit liqueur, passion fruit puree, lime juice, vanilla simple syrup, Prosecco or sparkling wine. Serve to your sweetheart FBI boyfriend, the, very, very goody cop. Although, give him a few of these and then play some good cop/bad cop. It's cuffin' season afterall.

Comandante Veracruz - 'The Guerilla Freestyle' - Dark rum, Campari, orange curaçao, simple syrup, pineapple juice, freshly squeezed lime juice, pineapple wedges and leaves to serve. Use to barter for your freedom. Or not, whatever.

Din Djarin - 'The Space Daddy' - Gin, maraschino liqueur, Crème De Violette, fresh lemon juice, crushed ice and edible glitter for the swirly galaxy look. Might need to remove your helmet when consuming. Keep away from The Kid. This is the - hic! - way.

Silva - 'The Ol' Western BJ' - Irish cream liqueur, Kahlúa, Amaretto, whipped cream to top. Serve in a red bandana covered shot glass. Drink naked from the waist down.

Agent Whiskey - 'The Unfortunate Cowboy' - Bourbon whiskey, Southern Comfort, lemon and lime juice, watermelon juice. Do not operate mincing machinery whilst under the influence. Tuck your lasso in. Watch your step there, cowboy.

Dave York - 'The Suburban Murder Daddy' - Mezcal, sweet vermouth, Campari, soda water, splash of lime juice, orange peel twist to garnish. Drink quickly to tie up your loose ends. Try not to lose an eye in the process.

Javi G - 'The Paddington' - Fresh, warmed milk served in a glass. Marmalade sandwich on the side. Alcohol free. It's past Javi's bedtime. Sssh.

Maxwell Lord - 'The Booty Clap' - Amaretto almond liqueur, Alizé Gold Passion liqueur, Hennessey Cognac. Shaking your booty like this whilst drinking is compulsory:

BONUS!!

Pedro Pascal - 'Purple Rain, d'uh' - Vodka, gin, blue curaçao, splash of cherry sourz, grenadine, lemonade, lemon juice. Try not to blub whilst dancing in the purple rain.

🖤

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