scarlett barlow } { district ten | fin

A legend among the streets of the cattle drawn district.
Scarlett and her girls, Adrielle and Sugar, live a life walked on the wild side. In a wild west antique wagon that remained in a barren location, was where long, hot days were spent. Filling the air with carnal tension and sweet, succulent laughter. A polygamy wasn't the word that could ever come to touch the bond shared between the three, but more that of a partnership. 


A crossed path and the shots of a gun ring out through the dry heat and silence. An antique revolver with only four loaded chambers remaining, two shells spat out and hit the dusty ground beside her foot. A kickback that was controlled with complete skill, it showed just how long she has done this before. A bandit with the whispered name of "Sweet Scar" that surfaced the tongue whenever her cowgirl boots would click against the rocky road in the town square. An attention grabber was an understatement, for Scarlett has the capability to draw much, much more.


A liking is a blessing in the eyes of a ranger who strides on a path on her lonesome. Only a fatal few have grown to exceed her expectations of human's and for that, have been graced with her rare, kind nature. However, only two have made it worth while, receiving her as a token of appreciation to staying so loyal and true. For loyalty is an important attribute in her search for partners in crime, literally.


A despicable girl in the sore eyes of those who have broken each and every string of loyalty that keeps a bond together. Strewn betrayal by many and an unforgiving temperamental, she draws her revolver. In a barren wasteland, where the sun shines harshly, the surface unscathed by any form of life, with the exception of tumbleweeds. Sweet Scar ponders back and forth with nothing on her mind, but to come to meet the singed ends of charred trust.

"I dun told you now, didn't I-"

Sweet giggles escape her parted, plush, pink lips as she wanders back and forth along the dry, cracked ground. Tipping her long, black rimmed hat to cover her crystal blue eyes from the sunlight, she can't bare to take even a slight look at the bandages boy. A philosophy of scripture jotted down from ink to paper, crumpled up in the back pocket of her skin tight shorts. "14. The faulty don't deserve a second chance."

"-don't fuck with my shit." 

Turning her black cowgirl hat with her finger tips along the rim, she tipped it upward. Her iced over eyes met with the boy's black and blue, crafted into a shade of deep purple. Hints of red and yellow painted like water color in an array along even the most swollen parts of his body. Washed away by the salty trail of tears that released from his grasp.

"And now you've gone-

you've gone and disrespected that,

and you've disrespected me."

Lips curling upward across her porcelain dipped skin. Her subtly freckled complexion shines brightly in the sunlight, however the fact that they weren't visible without the radiating sun is what she hated the most about her. She walks closer and closer to the boy rested up against the old wagon. A smile of genuinity, only used as a mask of deceit and lies. Her lips purse together, and her knee's crack as she comes to a squat in front of the bruised boy.

"But don't you worry,

young child."

Stroking the sweat droplets, mixed with blood and tears, from the surface of his jawline. Moving a soft, steady pointer and middle finger along the defined edges of his face. Her ring and pinkie tucked away securely as her thumb flicks up, while her eyes set on the prize. Continually tracing her features, she comes to a halt in the center of his forehead, just above his furrowed eyebrows. Pressing her nail deep enough to create a mark, she whispers under her breath a "bingo", before stepping away.

"I can make it all-

disappear."

Turning and stepping away from the boy, Scarlett marks her footsteps in ten counts. One- Two- Three- reaching to her side she unlatches the pocket that holds at her wait. Four- Five- Six- wrapping her right, dominate hand around the handle. Seven- Eight- Nine- pulling the revolver, five empty chambers with only one bullet remaining, held hidden in her waistband. Ten- she sharply on the heel of her boots to face the boy, her revolver aimed steady to him, finger on the trigger.

"I don't give second chances.

If I did,

then I'd ought-a be in your position."

A smile kept across her face, her finger holds tight upon the trigger of the family antique revolver. Carved with intricate designs and detail, plated with gold trimming. Passed throughout hundreds of family generations, it was forever kept locked away in a glass case, residing in the home of the eldest born child of the generation. Stolen in the middle of the night, Scarlett ran from home to live a life on her own.


Money taken from her wealthy parents, those who own a giant expanse of farmland, she plays smart and has enough to get her by for years. A true outlaw in pickpocketing, theft, and uncaught murder. She has yet to be caught by peacekeeper's for the disappearances of those who she'd refuse to see in broad daylight, only in the company of the darling moonlight.

"Did you have time to say your prayers?"

Without a second hesitation, a trigger is pulled and the deafening sound of a loud bang fills the dry, silent atmosphere. The bullet meets its marked target, embedded in the center of the boys forehead. A mark engraved into the shell of a boy who once was and is no longer. Smoke rises and fades from the revolver and she gently blows the end.


Growing up, a strict life was forced on the second oldest girl. Held at high expectations, she was the perfect golden child. Obedient, always took things seriously, she was the rock that held everything around her down, a hammer held steady above the rest. A darling that would kill for her siblings, expecting nothing in return. Until all her strings had finally snapped.


Forever living as a nomad who travels throughout the district, she lives alongside Adrielle and Sugar. The only two who had kept their loyalty. "3. Keep those who hold loyalty, trust, and promise true, for they deserve a liking."