Post by thorn! on Aug 26, 2010 17:08:10 GMT -8
NAME:
Samuel Walker AKA "Stagecoach Sam"
AGE:
37 years old
GENDER:
Male
HERITAGE:
African ( fante ) .x. Mexican
JOB POSITION:
Position: A jack of all trades both good and bad; Sam's as likely to help you with your livestock as he is to steal them.
A professional hitman and an experienced gunslinger, if you've got the money he's more than capable of doing durn near anything.
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:
Standing tall at a height of 6' 3" and weighing no less than 180-something pounds, Sam is a pretty imposing figure to behold. His body is lean and well-toned and those massive hands of his are perfectly suited for lashing together his pair of prized Percherons, slinging a shotgun over his shoulder or for something as gentle as holding a child. His well-toned figure can be attributed to a being forced to work a harsh life on a plantation until he was enlisted for the war. At the time, Sam's rich mahogany skin was marred by deep scarring to his back, while he was among the few cooperative slaves, it still didn't seem good enough for the foreman. When he entered the war, numerous scars appeared ranging from a nasty horse bite to his left arm to a massive raised on his chest and abdomen from when a gang of enraged Confederates dumped a pot of boiling water on him. The scars lay out like a map of his past, visible to everyone whenever he decides to take his shirt off.
Which come to think of it, he rarely does. In his mind, he's still a gentleman and dresses as such. From head to toe, he's dressed in formal wear to attract high-ranking "customers" to his well-kept stagecoach. The man is often adorned in a black or grey waistcoat with a white dress shirt and he doesn't go anywhere without his black trilby hat and a bow tie tied securely around his neck.
If he's in a rich folk area, he's been known to don a tall top-hat and add a long frock-coat to his attire.
Sam's handsome and his way of dress only accents his sharply angled features and impish looks. His black hair is often cropped short, if it's there at all. Clean-shaven from head to toe, it's clear Sam takes great pride in the way he looks. In spite of his good-looks, he can't hide the sad quality to his brown eyes. It's if they've seen far too many tragedies to truly be happy again.
PERSONALITY:
It's said when they killed his daughter, they killed Sam too. No longer is he the friendly man who would lend a helping hand whenever a neighbor called. Or the playful, town prankster... No, Sam's a changed man. Like a northern winter, he's grown harsh and cold. The warmth of a smile rarely plays across his face anymore. Why would it? After all, the two most important people in his life have been taken from him.
These days, Sam's taken a narrow-minded approach to strangers. Judging them as they do him, taking in their skin color and how they carry themselves. If you've got little money, don't come to Sam. He's a businessman and won't take a job for just scraps and a bed; You gotta have cold, hard cash if you want him to work for you and pay at least half of it upfront.
He's ruthless and not afraid to take on a difficult job, any obstacle that dares to stand in his way are quickly knocked to the side. His determination and fearlessness makes him a wonderful hitman, but a terrifying enemy.
Beneath his cold exterior still lies a soft, but broken heart. His gentleness can occasionally be seen when he greets a lady or decides to buy a couple of children some sweets from the general store. His mix of seriousness and sensitivity makes Sam a charming man when he allows it.
If there's one thing he still loves, it's his prized Percheron who pull his posh, black stagecoach. The pair are groomed to a glossy white on a daily basis and he makes sure they've got only the best feed; More than often putting their care before his own. He's well educated and enjoys the finer things, sitting down in a cabin with a good book and a glass of whiskey seem to be the only the only thing he truly finds joy in anymore.
Sam is careful not to let emotions get the better of him. His usual disposition is unnaturally calm, even when chaos erupts.
PAST:
{warning; long history is looong. xx; }
Born to slaves on the western edge of Louisiana, Sam honestly can't remember who his parents were. His mother was the only woman in the house and she died during his birth. His father was sold up river before he was even a year old. Raised off of goat's milk by an all-male slave team (with occasional help from the plantation owner's wife) he was put to work on the sugar plantation by the age of four and at eleven he had his first real trouble with the foreman. The foreman had caught young Sam butchering one of the chickens for a feast with the other slaves. By doing so, he'd earned himself and the planner of the event a whipping. From then on, he tried to stay out of the foreman's way, but trouble always had a way of finding him. Be it accused of stealing or simply the scapegoat because he was the youngest, Sam was acquainted with a good verbal lashing. After the whipping incident the owner's wife had taken matters into her own hands and banned the idea of whipping her workers.
Sam tended the sugar cane until he was thirteen, by then he'd grown into quite the strapping young man and the owners quite liked his refined build and quiet nature. He was handpicked by the master to be the house's servant boy and animal caretaker. It was easy for Sam to fall into the routine and he relished not having to work the fields. The hours were significantly shorter and the master's wife would even teach him to read and write once he'd finished chores.
When Sam was fifteen, his life was turned upside-down again. The Civil war had started and before he knew it, the southern army was pounding on the door. Demanding the slaves fight alongside them to preserve the Confederacy. Within days, he was marched with very little training to the battlefield. He had to learn quick or die trying and on his first day, he'd managed to escape with a bloody nose, missing tooth and a black eye.
Sam was somehow able to survive into the next year, by then earning a tiny bit of respect from the other men. Though when he followed behind a white soldier during a intelligence mission, misfortune found him again. The man was gunned down in front of him by enemy snipers, the Union boys took one look at him and told him to run. To Sam, that meant go back to the captain and report the death of one of their own instead of heading for the hills. As punishment upon returning without the other soldier, he was tied to a stake and had boiling hot water dumped on his chest by furious friends of the dead man.
That took him out of the war, the second-degree burns that ravaged his chest and torso kept him from going back. Luckily after being left for dead, a stagecoach rumbled through with a sympathetic family.
While they tended to his wounds, Sam made sure to do what he could to pay them back as soon as he was allowed to do so. When he was seventeen years of age, he was employed by the family as their coach driver and stablehand. A job he took with pride and since the war had ended and he was now considered a free man, he couldn't be happier. Their eldest daughter Eleanor took quite a fancy to young Sam. Her parent's didn't approve at all, but didn't really do anything to stop it either.
The two eloped on horseback, hoping to head west to seek a sleepy town where nobody would really care if her husband was black and she was white.
Within several years the two had built a small cabin on the outskirts of a Colorado town. That's when things got tricky for them... for a while, the townfolk believed Sam to be nothing but a hired-hand for the delicate woman. Nothing strange about that... but when a pretty little mulatto baby appeared a year later, people began to get suspicious.
Without warning, Eleanor fell ill. Sam stayed by her side as she took her dying breath, singing a quiet hymn as she passed. He was forced to raise their daughter Ruth without her. A terrifying thought that had never crossed his mind until she was buried. Within days the town's atmosphere towards him had changed and once more, he was considered worthless
To support himself and Ruth, he began working in the silver mines. He'd leave her in the care of the local church while he left for work, never once did he leave without cradling her tiny body in his massive arms and giving her a kiss on her forehead.
The work was tough, but Sam was not one to complain. Even in the dark, damp caves and through the long hours he'd be cheerfully singing a working tune. The miners were among the few who respected him. He was an excellent worker and when the need arose to use the horses, nobody could get a team organized and ready to go faster than he.
Once again after working years in the mines, trouble found him. Sam was twenty years old, his daughter was just old enough to walk when he'd heard news through the minister that trouble was headed their way. A guy named Thomas Sutton was seeking to rid the west of blacks and half-breeds, something he was terrifyingly good at... The fact he was the father of the soldier who died during the intelligence mission, well lets just say that poor ol' Sam had to skip town again.
But Tom was already on his heels.
Sam had been gifted one of the mining horses by his coworkers. A old, white horse named Clover. The mare carried Sam and his daughter to the middle of the desert. There, the three had stopped in an abandoned town before Tom had caught up with them.
While Sam was sleeping, Sutton had snuck into their camp and caught him off guard. Once he had wrestled Sam to the ground, another man was able to sneak Ruth away from the campsite. When she wailed, her father came charging through the chaos. He was met with a large piece of firewood to the head and was knocked out cold while the trio of beastly men lynched the child.
When Sam awoke... he wasn't Sam anymore.
His daughter and wife gone, Sam retrieved Clover (whom they'd try to set free, but the old mare had only gone as far as the end of the street) and set out in search for them. Though he felt empty. A ghost of himself as he traveled through various towns, looking for anyone with information about Sutton.
The best place to look for rumors is either the local bar or the brothel. Since the bar didn't want him and the brothel was in dire need of a cook, they tentatively hired him. Telling Sam that this was only temporary.
Well, 'temporary' turned out to be twelve years. During that time, he'd taken up residence and other jobs for them. He was particularly useful to the madam due to his background as a servant and since he was a large man, he was used as both a guardian of the house and girls as well as the man who'd fetch money from non-paying customers.
When the madam died, he was thrown out. Just like that. Her son didn't want neither black nor native to taint the house any longer and anyone with blood that even traced back to it was kicked out of the brothel.
It was just Sam and a young Apache girl, the two made an agreement to steal the carriage and supplies... some 'necessities' if they were to get to the next town.
After searching the mostly empty house for clothes and basic supplies, he went to the stables. Sam found a young stallion and hitched him to the stagecoach beside Clover. The three pulled away with barely a sound, retrieving Dyani and heading for any town that would take them. For years they traveled and he took up a older brother approach to keeping her safe and calm. As crazy as she was, he loved that little girl as if she was one of his own. Perhaps that was why he was so desperate to find her work and it wasn't until he was well into his early thirties when he finally found a job for his "sister." He was forced to leave her there, though made a promise to return. After all, Sam still had a mission to finish...
Nowadays, he's known by his dark stagecoach and even darker personality. If anyone is foolish enough to board his wagon, they can expect him to travel deep into the desert before getting kicked out and being asked about the whereabouts of a man named Thomas Sutton. If they've no answers for him, he'll leave them stranded after taking their goods.
Or he'll kill you if your among the lucky ones.
