(Canon is Tombstone film I Homeless)

[imyourhuckleberry]

I must confess, I am curious as to what your intentions may be for waking me from my death bed. Ah yes, my sincerest apologies for not addressing you properly Mun, but I believe you may have thrown this together with nothing more then a lick and a promise. While I may be a might grateful for the resurrection from the bone orchard it would seem that you are balled up with what you would do with me now that I have arrived centre stage.

[With a faint smile the pale man removes a blood stained handkerchief from his vest pocket and coughs for a moment. When the fit passes he carefully wipes away the blood on his lips and places the folded fabric away again.]

Forgive me if I don't shake hands, but it would seem that my affliction remains despite your intentions. While I hate to ruin this enchanted moment we seem to be sharing perhaps you could answer a few simple questions before this lunger Peter's out. I can stand the gaff with the best of men but to throw me into a world hundreds of years ahead of my own, while still feeling dragged out...you sir, are trying to bilk me!

[His slender fingers came to rest against the ivory handle of his pistol and taps it for a moment as he considers his course of action.]

I am game for most things but I would rather be made Gospel sharp then to find myself dying on a strange world. So if you wish to make an acord with a person of my good standing then I will consider it. Should the setting prove familiar and grand then I'm your huckleberry, but cross me Mun and my consumption will not slow me for even a moment when I draw down on you. Remember, we both know that you're no daisy!

[With the tip of his hat Doc turns and walks away.]

Comments

Young!Wyatt's Mun Promptly Freaks the Fuck OUT.

[the_marshal]

[It's been a long few days, but when this man appears, Wyatt finds in it him to sit up and pay attention. The bourbon would hold.

He blinks. He rubs at his eyes with his thumb. He's not sure he dares believe... But there's only one man he knows that uses so many flowers when he speaks.]

Holliday?

[imyourhuckleberry]

[The Doc froze in place when his eyes fell upon his not so old friend and finally offered a small smile and an outstretched hand.]

As I live and breath! Why Wyatt, you are the very image of youth and vitality, how ever did you manage such a thing?

[the_marshal]

[Holy hell... No, this fella didn't much look like the young buck he remembered at first glance, but as the seconds passed, he recognized more and more simliarities. It was him! Wyatt's first smile in weeks cracked across his face and he stood, slinging his hand into Doc's and shaking it fiercely.]

1878, friend. Dodge City, that's where she snatched me up from. [He leaned, lookin' the man over with an appraising eye.] Wish I could say the same for you, yer startin' to look a bit long in tooth there.

[imyourhuckleberry]

[It felt strange to see the younger version of his dearest friend, but Wyatt was Wyatt, and the Doc wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.]

November 1887, Hotel Glenwood in Glenwood Springs Colorado. He had the nerve to pluck me from my death bed, but at least my boots are on my feet!

[the_marshal]

[10 years. And on his deathbed.

It was a hard sock to the gut to be reminded that life was carryin' on without him, that so much was happenin' without him there... all the things he was missin'. That if it weren't for this mun grabbin' him up, Doc would be dead, just like everyone else he'd ever known.]

At least there's that. [His smile took on a worn edge. Tired... a might sad.] So. Where's he sendin' those boots a yers? Or hasn't he said yet?

[imyourhuckleberry]

[Doc nodded and frowned slightly as he noticed the look in his friends eyes.]

No need to get worry old friend, life was good before we parted and you honored me by going on to live for us both. It's true, he is sending me out into the world to walk a spell. I doubt he has more the notion himself, but I hear tale of a New Dodge.

[the_marshal]

[If ya could call what he was doin' livin'. Fightin' and dyin' over and over again, for the amusement of folks who didn't have the common decency the good Lord gave a snake.

He gave himself a mental shake, and tried to put it off for now. Doc was here, he aught to enjoy this while it lasted.]

A New Dodge, huh? Don't reckon I've heard'ah that one... but, here's hopin' yers is better than mine.

[imyourhuckleberry]

[His eyes lit up at the thought of the settlement he had heard mentioned by his Mun, and with a grin Doc removed his flask from his jacket and poured himself a small cup full before handing the flask over to his companion.]

I have yet to hear a full account of the place but from what I could piece together it's a new frontier settlement...beyond the stars. I swear Wyatt, I thought him mad or a fool but this place could be a fresh start and the doctors there could cure me of my affliction!

[the_marshal]

[Wyatt took the offered flask, and toasted the blond with it.]

These Muns have all sorts of strange places I never would have believed existed had I not seen 'em for myself. ...[A pause. That same sad, worn look flashing across his face before he chases it off again.] But some 'er better than'others and I'm mightly glad to hear it that yers has found a good one.

[imyourhuckleberry]

[He was not sure how the rules to this uncharted world worked but if there was a chance to save his closest friend some pain the Doc had no choice but to attempt it.]

Wyatt, my friend, forgive the burden I may place upon you but I would give you warning of events to come. Three years from now in the town of Tombstone Virgil will be accosted by some unsavory characters and be maimed and shortly after Morgan will fall to the same men. I wish there was more I could say but if you value our friendship at all you will keep a close eye on the ones wearing red sashes.

[Doc sighed a moment after finishing his drink and looked back with a sad demeanor.]

And Wyatt, should you see my darlin' Kate, tell her that she is in my thoughts.

[the_marshal]

[Wyatt stared. For several long moment he might have carved out of stone for all that he moved.

So that was it. That was the mysterious Tombstone the other tributes had so often mentioned. That was the truth they'd tried to keep from him.

His brothers were to be maimed and killed.

His knuckles whitened on the flask.

There wasn't a thing he could do to stop it.]

I'm sorry to say, friend, but as it happens, things that occur or are said here in this place, do not cross over with us. Some magic or another keeps us from remembering.

Even... even if I could get home to my brothers, or if I were to see Kate, I wouldn't recall the things you have told me just now.

[imyourhuckleberry]

[The weight of his friend's words struck him like a hammer to an anvil, and Doc shakily held out his empty cup as he nodded towards the flask.]

My...please accept my sincerest apologies Wyatt. Had I known such a thing, I would never have burdened you with that weight. These bewitching rules leave me vexed for words...

[As troubled as he was at the news, it was the thought that he would never see his beloved Kate again that bothered him more.]

[akingalways]

...What the hell is 'consumption'?

[imyourhuckleberry]

[The question caught him off guard, as did the man's outfit, but the Doc smiled faintly as he kept his fingers close to the ivory handle strapped to his chest.]

Consumption my boy is the onset of Tuberculosis, an ailment that afflicts the lungs and ravages the body. I fear it shall soon take me but I have already lived longer then the physicians predicted.

[akingalways]

Tuberculosis?

[Yeah, he's heard of it. But that is a weird name for it.]

Why don't you get it cured!? They've got pills you can take to get rid of that crap, you know!

[imyourhuckleberry]

[The Doc stared at him for a moment as if the man had grown a second head.]

My Mun mentioned a cure of some sort but I fear that no such thing exists in my present day and age. At best I have aspired to live among the drier climate of the West but that has only slowed the progress of my condition.

[akingalways]

Well, if that's the case, why not come to where I live? They could fix that, no problem!

[imyourhuckleberry]

I appreciate the kindness you have shown a stranger such as myself. You sir, are a man of character! Would it be so simple as simply leaving the luggage, I would make a speedy journey to this home of yours, but sadly it seems the impish fellow claiming to be my Mun, has already set out to ship me off to a home.

[akingalways]

[Was he really a man of--what is he saying!? HE IS THE KING! Of COURSE he is a man of character! He has enough character to...make more characters just like him until they could fill a whole room's worth of JACK ATLASES!]

Where?

[imyourhuckleberry]

There is a place called New Dodge out there, somewhere beyond the star. I thought him mad or a fool, but my Mun spoke highly of it, and has given me assurances that it will feel down right like home!

[akingalways]

...But if its like home wouldn't it be...not with a cure for your stuff?

[imyourhuckleberry]

It is a frontier settlement of a sort, but the good folk running the place are from a different time and place. I wish I could expand upon the particulars but alas it is beyond my very comprehension.

[moveyourdeadfros]

It seems wasteful to me, to send a man of such wit and charm to a far-off world only to have him perish as soon as he arrives.

[and the prize for "things one did not expect a well-over-eight-foot tall skeleton to tell you" goes to... well, most likely anything coming from the jawbone of this tall fellow.]

[imyourhuckleberry]

[Doc turned to face the man who had spoken so eloquently but when he saw what clearly must have been the specter of death, or a ghoulish creature sent to fetch his wretched soul to Hell itself, his guns flew from their holsters and drew down upon the skeletal figure.]

Foul spirit, return to your master be he Lucifer or Death himself and tell him that Doc Holliday's time has not yet come!

[The tall man's voice had a tremble to it's tone but the nickel plated pistols aim never faltered or veered from their intended target.]

[moveyourdeadfros]

[And the skeletons reaction... was to raise his hands to the sky as his voice hit a pitch most sopranos would envy, and a speed which had his jawbones clatter so much the almost drowned out his plea.]

Please aim a little lower good sir I can mend my clothes but not my hair!